#using rigatoni as a straw

[blu-s0da]

[annoyangle]

Penne is what happens when someone Fucked up making rigatoni and then tried to hide their mistakes by making it slanted and calling it Penne.

It's ridges should Hold onto sauce better, but it's size doesn't always allow for this. It's one good purpose would be as a replacement for Ziti in baked ziti. The cheese slides right off ziti, but will stick a little better to Penne! But that would also involve a tomato sauce which I sense You do not favor.

Personally I think the biggest Pasta crime is long ziti. It's ziti but Longer and is supposed to be used to make lasagna. But you end up with airholes from the ziti, which like, COULD be fixed if you stuffed them like manicotti, but They're too small!! And because its ziti it's all slippery, and if you try and use them in anything else it looks ridiculous! Long Ziti is a crime against God and should be burned at the stake.

Penne Lisce, which is Smooth Penne, should also be burned at the stake. I Hate smooth pasta

Also, I'll let him Know if I see him!!! I run into the Flying Spaghetti Monster pretty often at Pasta functions :) - PS

((HI PERSON BEHIND THE PASTA SURVEYOR HERE. YOURE THE FIRST PERSON TO EVER MATCH MY ENERGY WITH PASTA OPINIONS. I think everyone needs a pasta shape to hate in a funny way and you have got it DOWN))

YOU KNOW WHAT, I TOTALLY AGREE WITH YOU ABOUT THE LONG ZITI. IT ISN'T EVEN A FUN SHAPE OR ANYTHING! IT'S JUST... A PASTA STRAW. BORING! UTILITARIAN! STRAIGHT LINES! I BET YOU CAN'T EVEN SWAP IT FOR AN ACTUAL STRAW IN A CRISIS SITUATION BECAUSE IT'D GO ALL WET AND WHEATY!! EWWW! NOBODY WANTS THAT IN THEIR MOUTH!!

ALSO YES: SMOOTH PASTA IS DEFINITELY AN ABOMINATION. ONE OF HUMANITY'S MANY, MANY MISTAKES, LIKE THE CAN OPENER. IF IT CAN'T HOLD SAUCE, WHY SHOULD IT EXIST? I"M GOING TO PUT IT ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT ARE GOING TO STOP EXISTING WHEN I TAKE OVER. I LIKE YOU. DROP BY ANY TIME, PASTA SURVEYOR! SEE, KIDS, IT'S NOT HARD TO WIN MY FAVOR. JUST SHOW UP AND BE INTERESTING!! //thanks dude(tte?) for a fun ask!!

[omn1sc1entsunset]

what if you take rigatoni noodles, put them in a soup, and then take the noodle and use it like a straw.

[formalpeacaps]

2/14/24 Recap Part One

Good morning, my beautiful, wonderful chickadees, I’m back! We’re all back! We’ve missed some things, haven’t we? Unfortunately all my old recaps are gone, but don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson and now am writing all of them in Google Docs, which means that Paige can delete the entire sub, she can delete videos I’m writing about, but I will always, always have receipts, and I will continue to pop up, like a very persistent little fungus. 

Anyway, I refuse to recap Paige being incoherent in the Bahamas as a birthday gift to her, and as soon as I finished this of course Paige posted another vlog, but let’s start with last week’s vlog and work our way into this week’s, shall we?

A “florida for the winter” vlog

I don’t know “why” this title “needed” “quotations”

Nine seconds in, and 1.75 fonts. It’s all one font technically, but she changes the color and if it’s italic or not three times.

Paige is hosting dinner. Paige is wearing all black in Florida because she’s “a cold person”. I think what she means is that she’s always freezing due to a lack of body fat, but I would accept that she’s also kind of cold emotionally speaking. That seems like an accurate statement as well.

Paige complains about getting a blowout because she “never feels like herself” when she gets her hair done like that, which begs the question why she pays money to get her hair done like that. Also I find it funny that as Paige says, “when my hair looks good it just doesn’t feel right”

We’ve seen your $20 Amazon extensions, Paige, we know.

Paige makes sure to let us all know she’s sending PR slippers from Rao’s tomato sauce, because heaven forbid we don’t know she gets free things in the mail as a very important influencer.

Paige makes dinner for Tommy’s - sorry, their friends. (You can tell it’s actually Tommy’s friends because it’s all guys, they refuse to acknowledge Paige or her camera, and several of them aren’t white.) Dinner is the world’s most basic cheese board, spicy rigatoni, grilled meats, and a salad, because our girl is a one trick pony. Oh, and her single dessert (banana pudding) afterwards.

The dressing recipe takes us up to 2.75 fonts and it’s just multiple types of mustard and multiple types of vinegar.

We also get to see a new DB glassware sample and it looks so weird? It’s shaped like an upside down coke bottle, but it has mason jar threading? This makes no sense

Look, okay, hi. I’ve looked into Paige’s demographic and I know that she could release a literal dog turd but put a white hydrangea next to it and her 2,000 die-hard sorority girl fan squad would buy it and they don’t care. I understand that none of these girls whose frontal lobes have not fully developed grew up watching Antiques Roadshow with their mom. But I did and I am bothered because glassware is made into certain shapes for REASONS, design elements like threading for a lid exist for REASONS, also I can tell just by the weight and clarity of it that glass is probably mostly plastic and it would feel wrong if you clicked your nails against it. Again, I understand, I’m not the target demographic. I know no one else cares, this is a nitpick, blah blah blah. But between you and me, as someone who gets very into nerdy minutiae about material design and history, I’m bothered. Had to just throw that out there.

IT HAS LIKE A RUBBERIZED LID WITH A PLASTIC STRAW IN IT BUT THEN WHY DOES IT HAVE THE THREADING THAT LOOKS SO WEIRD AAAAAAAAAAAAH

If you’re also weird about this stuff you can DM me and we can read Bill Bryson’s At Home together and discuss this in further neurodivergent niche interest detail

After dinner is over and everyone’s gone Paige and Tommy pretend that they’re cute and into each other but as always just come across as middle schoolers trying to prove that they’re very cool and like the opposite gender now

Okay I’m calling it, it’s the same font but now it’s in yet ANOTHER color and italicized so we’re officially up to 3 fonts now. 2.99 fonts? 3 fonts.

The next day, Paige “works” (puts on her AirPod Maxes and does Woman Laughing At Salad at her screen on what we’re led to believe are business calls) and then blathers on about all her brand deals. Two things about this. One: her face is so disconcertingly shiny. Like she looks like an overly waxed cafeteria apple, or like if you touched her face it would make the new sneakers on a gym floor squeak. Why is she so shiny? Second of all, maybe because I don’t follow influencers, but I have never found an influencer who talks so much and so inorganically about their brand deals. Paige never misses an opportunity to be like, hello, I have a BRAND DEAL, did I mention there’s an upcoming BRAND DEAL, soon I’m going to have a BRAND DEAL and yet somehow never legally discloses ads in a very Mikayla Nogueira fashion. The result is both technically illegal and yet deeply inauthentic feeling so it’s like not even worth the FEC violation. My memory is faulty because I simply do not care, but considering how bad Paige is at doing the one thing she’s supposed to do, it doesn’t exactly surprise me that I think the only people Paige has worked with repeatedly over a long span of time are brands that will work with literally anyone (Mejuri, Intermissi, Revolve), Revlon makeup, Frankie’s bikinis, PJ Place, and maaaaaaybe Butcher Box and Thrive Market? Speaking of -

Not legally disclosed Thrive Market sponsorship! Paige eats three entire chips with salsa to prove she’s a girl’s girl who totally eats normal amounts. Paige claims she needs to subscribe to this company to get her Poppi fix in the boonies of “not being outside a major city” in Florida but Poppi had an ad during the Super Bowl and is in my local Shaw’s (that’s New England’s big basic regional grocery store chain, like equivalent to a Roche Brothers or Market Basket or Kroegers or whatever) AND Whole Foods, so that doesn’t strike me as… correct.

Tommy decides he wants stir fry so they go to Whole Foods and Paige makes “Asian-inspired peanut sauce stir fry”, I assume to bait me into screaming at her. [NOTE: there used to be now-deleted rant about Asian cooking that I have edited out in post production because Tumblr says it makes this text block too long and lol who cares] I don’t like being this person because the idea of “authentic” cuisine is bullshit and gatekeeping, and so if you, a normal-ass person, like your Americanized Paige style stir-fry, you can keep your Americanized Paige style stir-fry. But if you’re cosplaying as a food influencer and great chef and claiming to make the food of another culture, it’s just basic respect to actually try and understand what the fuck you’re doing and make clear to your audience where you’re adding your own twists.

Love to play my favorite game, Guess Why Paige’s Followers Are 99.99% White Sorority Girls/Former Sorority Girls Challenge

Paige doesn’t vlog for a fascinating day of filming ads and watching Tommy fish (oh no!!!) and then lays out in the sun and philosophizes on how zen and calm she is in Florida because of the weather and because Tommy’s a “super grounding person”. As she says this Tommy screams and hits her with the hose and she adds in font number four “So grounding <3”. Before Paige and Tommy go to the beach for him to surf and her to film people without consent on her drone, she rhapsodizes about citrus season and how oranges are better than candy.

“It’s eighty degrees at the beach and I’m wearing a sweatshirt. I’m probably the only girl in Florida to do this. I don’t know if you can relate to this but if there’s a slight breeze, the hoodie’s going on” - Yeah weird it’s almost like what happens when you don’t eat enough or have a proper amount of fat on your body????? You’re cold??? Even when you shouldn’t be??? Like that’s not a cute little girly thing it’s a symptom you need to be eating more???? ANYWAY.

Paige pretends to care about manatees and them getting hurt by boats but I would also bet she and Tommy go on the exact type of boats that hurt manatees all the time.

Paige body checks herself in a Free People Movement outfit (undisclosed PR from Australia!) and then they play tennis and eat… Mashed potatoes and gravy? Sure.

New font in the end credits (yellow on a puke-y olive background) which brings this video’s font count up to five.

[EDITOR'S NOTE - the second vlog I recapped is in part two, there's a character limit.]

[c5553]

tumblr needed to know my accomplishment

[memoryheadundefined]

are you made of goo??? can i drink you with a straw? or make you into soup

^1?&RIGATONI?/"; global.msg[4]= "\E0THE TUBE-SHAPED&PASTA./"; global.msg[5]= "IN A PINCH^1, IT&CAN BE USED AS&A STRAW./%%"; if(global.flag[462] > 0) { scr_papface(1, 0); global.msg[2]= "IF YOU NEED TO&DRINK A CUP OF& &Everyone\'s memories./";

[coughloop]

using a rigatoni like the worlds worst straw

[marvel-medigeek-fics]

Marjan walked into the 126, sipping coffee to chase down the four Tylenol she'd taken before locking up her Jeep. She'd woken up with a pounding headache and the telltale signs of the second day of her period. Nothing she couldn't handle. After all, she'd never live down sitting out over something like this. Especially not when she worked with men and worked her ass off to prove herself worthy of walking alongside them.

She'd just avoid overdoing it. Easy enough.

--

The first call of the day had come in hot, with no room for extra pain. A load-bearing beam had been demolished, leaving two construction workers and the couple who lived there trapped under the rubble. All had survived, with only 2 broken legs between the four of them, and a few broken ribs. Could have been a lot worse, but they were all in a fair amount of pain, and Marjan couldn't help but feel guilty about her own pain. She attempted to push it down further and swallowed a few more Tylenol back at the station.

3 draining calls later, her headache was back with a vengeance and her cramps hadn't died down in the slightest. In fact, they seemed to be getting worse. She'd dealt with worse, of course, so this was nothing. At least that is what she kept telling herself. Marjan could smell Paul's cooking from upstairs and without realizing it she had unintentionally not eaten anything all day. And there it was, the source of her problem: hypoglycemia.

Paul was making turkey sausage rigatoni, one of Marjan's favorites. Paul, being the absolute dork he was, was singing along to the radio and using the spoon as a microphone. Mateo was doing the same thing with the salad tongs, and Judd was filming them and laughing. TK was laughing too, but probably because of something Carlos said rather than his hilarious colleagues. Owen was looking at his crew while doing paperwork and chuckling into his pen. Marjan leaned against the doorframe, trying to hold back a reaction to a cramp. Which were only getting worse.

"How much longer until dinner? I'm starved!" Marjan yelled over the country twang, almost making Mateo and Paul drop their utensils.

"10 minutes!" Paul yelled back, still dancing to the radio with his lower half.

Marjan took this opportunity to make herself more coffee. Not only was she hypoglycemic, but she was also exhausted. Not that she usually drank coffee, but she needed the bit of energy it was sure to give her.

"Whoa, Marwani, two cups? Who are you?" TK said, after saying a quick goodbye to Carlos when his radio went off.

"I'm tired, Strand. And can you blame me?" She was referring to one of her earlier saves today where she was the one to cut a hanglider out of a tree.

"Impressive, yes. It's still not like you to drink coffee." TK just raised his eyebrows and went back to chewing on his straw and sipping water.

"Yeah, Marjan, I thought you got your adrenaline from rescues. The natural way, as I believe you said once." Paul said, setting down the skillet of food. Mateo, setting down the salad, and Judd, setting down a roll of paper towels, both sat down after Paul. The whole table dug in. And even though Marjan had thought she was hungry, smelling the pasta almost made her want to throw up. But she took a bite, slowly forcing herself to choke it down. She forced a smile when Paul met her eyes in concern over TK's head. She was fine. She had to be.

--

After dinner and an agonizing hour of Paul watching over her like a hawk, Marjan finally escaped to the bathroom. Nausea from earlier had sort of subsided, but she still had to force down the bile in her throat. She just hoped there would be a call before she couldn't hold it down anymore. It burned a little bit, but not as much as the shame that lit her mind on fire. She breathed a sigh of relief when the Klaxons went off.

She ran downstairs, her abdomen still stinging with pain, but adrenaline was already beginning to dull it. The next call was a fire, which was great for forcing Marjan's mind off of her own selfishness.

"Whoa." The ablaze building lit up the dark sky. Sometimes it was pretty to watch something burn, but not tonight. 14 people were still trapped on the upper floors of the apartment complex, which was skyrocketing Marjan's adrenaline levels. Honestly, she felt great.

"We're going in!" Owen yelled it over the hiss of water pressure and the 6 of them went into the blaze. Usually, in a fire, everything seemed to be overwhelming, but today, the fire seemed dead silent. There was no crackle, just compressing heat.

"Austin FD, anybody in here?" Mateo yelled it through the door, his fist rapping against the wood.

"In here!! Help us!!" was the reply from inside.

"Mateo, Paul," Owen ordered, the two of them already forcing their way inside.

The remaining four trudged on. "Help! Please!! I'm in 654!! Please!!"

"Marjan, TK,"

"Got it, Cap!" TK chirped, "I'm going to kick down the door, back away if you can!!" The door flew open with a startling amount of force.

"Over here!! Under the table!!" The frantic voices called again and the duo moved to the terrified teenager.

"What's your name?" Marjan asked, biting her tongue so hard she could taste iron.

"I'm Mckenna."

"Are you the only one in the apartment?"

"Yes!" Mckenna cried out in pain, clutching her shoulder. There was a piece of glass embedded in her shoulder, and it was no wonder neither of them had noticed the shard. It was caught underneath her shirt, but since Mckenna had moved, so had the glass. Blood soaked the front of her blouse. "TK, gauze. Please." TK pressed the roll into Marjan's palm and she quickly wrapped up the wound with perfect precision.

"Let's get out of here." TK and Marjan carried Mckenna down the stairs. All three were lucky Marjan's legs didn't buckle, no matter how much they felt like they would. They passed Mckenna off to the EMTs and her sobbing parents.

"All good?" Marjan and TK asked each other at the same time.

Both of them nodded, and at least one of them was lying. Which would only become obvious when Marjan threw up into a trashcan immediately after passing the last victim, Alex, from the 8th floor off to the EMTs.

Judd happened to be the only one who noticed, which was lucky for her. "You okay, Marwani?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just shook my stomach around too much." Marjan forced her lips into a smile, to make Judd believe her. He didn't, but he knew better than to question Marjan when she had the 'fight me' glint in her eyes.

"Just take it easy. I don't want to clean up anybody's puke."

"Who says you would have to do it? Probie would." Even in excruciating pain, her quippy mouth was not impacted.

--

Back at the station, Marjan turned in early after convincing herself she didn't need any more Tylenol. She covered herself with every blanket in the fire station to no avail, she was still freezing. She moaned quietly, as to not alarm any more people she probably already had. She finally fell asleep with a dull sheen over her forehead.

"Marjan! Wake up!" TK was standing over Marjan when she woke up shaking violently. Her unwavering cramps had brought friends, but she bit her tongue again until she bled. Iron tastes better than pain.

"What?" Marjan groaned.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Of course! I'm fine!" She threw the covers off of the bed and stood up, blinking away dizziness and letting her eyes focus on her crewmates. Paul and TK were in the front, and Mateo, Owen, and Judd were making up the perimeter. Paul placed his hand on her forehead and shook his head slowly.

"No, you're not. You obviously have a fever. At least 100 degrees, if I'm not mistaken."

"You can stay here and sleep, Marjan, but you're not allowed on any other calls today," Owen said, his eyebrows heavy with worry and concentration.

"You're benching me, Captain?" Marjan looked at Owen with sad eyes. Her face was paler than usual and drenched in sweat. She looked awful.

"If he won't, I will." Mateo, who usually was painfully reserved about being bossy, put steel behind his voice. He looked like he was about to cry from worry, but his voice didn't shake and he stared Marjan down. His arms were crossed, and Marjan mirrored his stance.

"You can't bench me, probie," Marjan scoffed, before swaying and about falling into TK's arms. "I'm fine!"

"No, you are definitely not. Now sit down, before I send you to the ER for fluids." Owen locked eyes with her until she reluctantly sat down on the bed, her defiance waning. It was all gone the next time a wave of pain erupted through her abs causing her to scream. She grabbed the trashcan from the bedside table and puked violently into it.

"Go get Tommy. Now." Judd's voice was steel, and everyone else sprung into action. Leave it to Judd. Marjan groaned gutturally, a sound that broke Paul's heart. Marjan was his best friend and he'd never seen her in so much pain. So much pain that she was crying and moaning. And he had a hunch. McBurney's point.

"Ow, Paul, quit."

"You have appendicitis, girl, why didn't you say anything?" was Paul's reply, just as Tommy checked her out.

--

3 hours later, Marjan was out of surgery, and the entire 126 was sitting in the waiting room. They had done it for TK, and they'd sure as hell do it for Marjan as well. Grace had brought the entire station donuts because, in Judd's words, it was always an appropriate time to have donuts. No one had disagreed, and they all needed a bit of pick me up. Marjan having appendicitis had been a bit of a rollercoaster for all of them. Especially when they had realized her appendix had partially burst, which had caused a bit of perontinitus. Most of the 126 had been afraid she'd die because no one noticed the pain she had been in all day. It had been touch and go for a moment there and they were all a little on edge especially after TK's coma after getting shot. The incident was still fresh in all of their minds, and no one wanted to relive it. But here they were.

TK was pacing so much that he'd probably walked a marathon since they'd got here. Judd and Paul were moving too, both jiggling their legs like the world would end if they stopped. Mateo was completely still, hugging a pillow to his chest. And Owen was talking to Marjan. Her heart rate was good, ditto on blood pressure. She was just sleeping. Which fried everyone's nerves. If only she'd just open her eyes.

"One of the female nurses redid your hijab. Her name is Lily, and she says thank you for saving her sister, Mckenna. Small world, huh?"

She twitched.

"Guys!" Owen hissed and the other four men plus Grace moved quietly into the room. "Marjan?" Paul's voice sounded brittle, but he took her hand softly and squeezed it. Marjan's fingers curled around one of Paul's and she squeezed. Paul's tears shone on his cheeks as Marjan's eyes fluttered open.

"What happened?" She croaked out.

"Your appendix ruptured. We almost didn't catch it in time." Judd said over the deafening silence reverberating around the room.

"So that's why my Tylenol didn't work." She remarked.

"You were taking Tylenol for pain all day, and you didn't think to tell us?" TK said slowly, his fingers tapping on his elbows like he was disappointed. Maybe he was.

"I am female, Tyler Kennedy," Marjan said. "Think about it."

--

Paul stayed the latest with her because everyone else had early mornings. He sat in the chair beside her bed and held her hand. Paul had his appendix out when he was 22, and he knew how lonely it felt to sleep in a hospital room with no one watching over him. So he stayed and held her hand while she rested.

"I'm glad you're okay. You scared me for a while there." Paul whispered to Marjan.

"Me too, Paul. Thank you for staying with me."

"Of course."

"I have one more favor to ask, though."

"Which is?"

"Ice cream? Vegan cookie dough? Please?"

"In the morning." Paul shook his head fondly. "Everything is closed, and you should get some rest."

"Fine. I expect to see you here bright and early tomorrow with ice cream."

"I won't let you down." Marjan was already asleep by the time that he replied, snoring softly in time to her heart rate.

--

And of course, the next morning, Marjan awoke to vegan cookie dough ice cream on the bedside table along with a metal spoon and a giant get well soon card signed by every member of the 126, Carlos, and Grace. Along with a letter from Mckenna, who said Marjan could visit her anytime she wanted to, in room 216. Maybe being benched wasn't so bad.

[smolfangirl]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Julie and The Phantoms (TV) Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Julie Molina & Nick Summary:

It’s only when they have to perform together that they realize they might not hate each other’s guts.

As he wipes the counter, Luke twirls around and sends half of the crumbs flying towards the floor. He keeps dancing. In hindsight, that frat boy doesn’t seem so bad now, Julie thinks. He might’ve not taken the job seriously either, but at least he never used a paper straw as a microphone or thought he could win her over with a wink and yet another toothy grin. No, she definitely hates Luke. And nothing could change her mind about that.

Posted for @jatpdaily‘s Secret Santa 2020 as a gift to @dr-rigatoni. Happy Holidays to you, I hope I could bring you some joy with this fanfic!

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Fucking Hormones {KiriBaku}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! This is pretty much pure crack born from this post I made that kind of blew up? Hopefully this is a good crossover to sate your KiriBaku needs!

Bakugo had a vivid imagination. Growing up as an only child and travelling with his parents kind of necessitated it. When he was a kid he had spent long hours both in his parents’ office and on planes letting his imagination run wild. It was why he had the design of his hero costume six years before he had ever stepped foot onto UA’s campus for the entrance exam and how he already knew what color the walls would be painted when he opened his own agency (Pantone 360 C, thank you very much).

As he grew older though, that particular attribute had evolved from creating future plans to creating fantasy lovers once he hit puberty. Nameless, faceless, and oftentimes sexless, he imagined hands on him and his hands tracing over curves and dips of muscle depending on the night; sometimes they fucked him, sometimes he fucked them. Either way it played out, there was no name to shout or eye color he could manifest to look into.

Until one night in his dorm room when he came so hard with his best friend’s name on his tongue that he thought he’d blackout. He’d had the image of red hair and red eyes and sharp teeth in his head as he concentrated on the idea that his hand wasn’t his own but rather that of the classmate next door.

The initial bliss from release didn’t last long, panic flooding his system as he realized that he was fantasizing about Kirishima. There had never been a specific person in his thoughts before and the fact that he enjoyed it more when he was thinking of that stupid grin on his face? He was fucked. Absolutely fucking fucked.

He grabbed his discarded shirt and wiped himself clean, yanking his sweats back up his legs and trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next because holy shit, this was not what he’d expected when he’d settled into his bed less than half an hour ago to jerk off. There was no doubt that Kirishima was his best friend and kind of the only person he could stand being around voluntarily for more than twenty minutes and that he was tan and muscled and—shit.

“This night can’t possibly get worse,” he murmured, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple.

Then his balcony doors flew open with a deafening crash, shuddering in the sudden wind that swept through his room under the moonlight. He jumped to his feet with his heart hammering in his chest, turning between the balcony and another loud bang from his bathroom door flying open and hitting the wall. Crackling lightening clouded his vision as thunder boomed.

He was under attack literally two minutes removed from cumming, what the fuck—

“Hello, my cheesy little rigatoni,” a sultry voice purred from the bathroom doorway.

“WHO IN THE FUCK ARE YOU?” he shouted, sweatpants slung low on his hips and his palms igniting for the fight that was sure to come.

A feminine chuckle filled his ears as a furry creature emerged from his bathroom, long auburn hair seeming to grow fuller as it shifted in the breeze and pink painted lips smirking devilishly as she grew closer. Cloven hooves clicked on the hardwood floor and yet somehow the one thing that registered to him as disturbing was the ample bust covered in brown fur.

“I’m your hormone monstress, sweetheart. You can call me Connie because you and me?”—she gestured between them— “We’re gonna have a lot of fun together.”

His eye twitched. “I ain’t the fun type and I sure as hell don’t need some…some… whatever the fuck you are giving me shit about jerking off!”

“Now that’s no way to speak to the one who’s going to guide you through these changes.”

“Guide me though…? Newflash, bitch: I’ve gone through puberty. Just listen to my voice, fuck! Do I sound like my balls haven’t dropped yet?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and her blue eyes held indifference. “Honey it’s not my fault breaking into the Japanese market was hard and then caused a backlog. Even if assignments come in late I still gotta do ‘em.”

“Are you absolutely fucking kidding me? I DON’T NEED YOU!”

“If you want help getting in the pants of that boy who’s name you just shouted while shuckin’ corn then I think you do,” she tempted, watching his jaw set. “What’s his name, now? Kirishima?”

“Do not say his name,” he warned with a threatening point of his finger.

“C’mon now honey,” she said, hopping up to sit on his desk and crossing one leg over the other. “We’ve got to get planning because the five-finger shuffle isn’t gonna keep you happy for long when all you want is that boy’s hand down your pants.”

Bakugo stared at her for a long moment before looking down at his hands and then over his shoulder to his open balcony doors. Then, with a nod of conviction, he moved to close the balcony doors and slipped back under his blankets.

“I’ve gone fucking insane,” he murmured as he closed his eyes. He was having a weird as shit lucid dream after blacking out from that orgasm. All he had to do was fall asleep in this dream and he would wake up alone.  And when he woke up this walking pair of furry tits would be gone and cum would be flaking off of his skin.

She was not gone.

At least, not permanently. It was like she just materialized next to him when his dick even so much as twitched when he thought something inappropriate about Kirishima.

The first time it happened was in training the day after she’d first appeared. They had all been rotating sparring partners, and when he was paired with Kirishima and had him pressed against the ground for the five count the redhead smiled excitedly.

“Man, you’re the best even without your quirk! Seriously so manly!”

Bakugo scoffed, waving him off to where his water bottle sat. “And don’t you ever forget it, Shitty Hair.”

As the laughter of his friend faded he felt a soft brush at the base of his neck, whirling around ready to fight whatever classmate decided to touch him. Instead, though, he came face to face with what he thought had been another creation of his imagination.

The monstress who’d introduced herself as Connie the night prior stood before him in a UA training jacket unzipped to show off her cleavage and her hair pulled high in a ponytail atop her head.

“What the fuck—”

“Oh sugar, you may think that hair’s shitty but I bet it’s good enough to pull when he’s between your thighs and those teeth? Mmm, just imagine ‘em givin’ a nice little nibble to your—"

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU HORNED BITCH!”

A jolt of panic ran through him when he realized that his classmates might not be able to see her. They were going to think he was absolutely off his rocker screaming at nothing. But when he surveyed the training grounds he saw that no one was paying him any mind.

“Believe it or not I’m not big on audiences,” she cooed into his ear.

And that’s how he spent his days going forward—paranoid of her popping out of thin air to tease him about Kirishima unknowingly making his heart jump into his throat or making his pants feel tighter. It didn’t happen every time (she would’ve never left his side then, honestly) but it happened enough that he legitimately contemplated labeling her as a villain. She made his life hell just like one with all her antics.

It had been an exam day in Cementoss’ literature class, their task to complete twelve multiple choice questions and two open-ended prompts. He’d read the material and taken plenty of notes to breeze through it with only one multiple choice that he wasn’t entirely sure of. So with nothing better to do he surveyed his classmates, spying Kaminari nervous and breathing heavily with Kirishima sat behind him concentrating on the paper in front of him harder than Bakugo had ever seen. He’d helped him study so it was nice to see he was putting all his effort into doing well.

But when his tongue darted out to wet his lips time slowed to a crawl and suddenly he was feeling very, very warm as that tongue stayed poking out of the corner of his mouth.

“He looks like the type who just knows how to use his tongue, virgin or not,” the monstress whispered from his left, and when he whipped around to face her he saw that she was perched on the windowsill wearing reading glasses and skimming over the text they were being quizzed on. “Do you think he’s the type to be excited and quick or slow and enjoy bein’ a lil tease?”

Bakugo snapped his pen in half.

Then there was the evening in the common room when the entire class had gathered for an ice cream party because sure, a bunch of teenagers definitely needed all that sugar on a Wednesday night. Though it wasn’t terrible to be sat amongst Kirishima, Kaminari, Jiro, Ashido, and Sero as they talked about strategic costume alterations and he savored the cinnamon ice cream in his bowl. It was fairly calm until he heard the grating sound of Kirishima’s straw trying to get every last bit of his milkshake, and he looked up to tell him to knock it off but froze when he saw the redhead’s cheeks slightly puffed out from the treat and a trail of vanilla dripping from his lips and down his chin.

Pressing the cold bowl in his hands against the crotch of his pants didn’t do as much as he hoped, especially when Kirishima swallowed loudly and wiped the drip from his face with two fingers, promptly sucking it off a moment later and declaring with a laugh that he may have brain freeze.

“Hmm,” he heard from beside him, turning to find Connie with her own strawberry cone in hand, “I think we both know that what you’ve got for him wouldn’t give him brain freeze. He looks good with a little something on his face, don’t you think?”

Fuck yes he did but he wasn’t about to tell her that, instead choosing to shovel a spoonful of his own dessert into his mouth. The knock of the metal spoon against his teeth hurt just enough to distract him for all of three seconds from the raging boner he was sporting.

There was also movie night in Sero’s room when halfway through the second movie Kirishima needed a phone charger and crossed in front of his spot in the hammock to bend down and get the spare cord from Sero’s desk drawer. His tshirt lifted slightly as he did to expose the curve of his lower back and the dimples set at his hips which were subtle but defined enough that Bakugo idly wondered…

“…if you could feel ‘em when you wrapped your legs around those delicious hips?”

He hated that she could read him like a fucking book. But he also hated that he had apparently now developed a fetish for best friend’s back.

Even during training when he was watching Kirishima work on his Unbreakable form against Shoji from the sidelines, the class’ task to critique their peers’ moves and assess them for potential counters that villains could utilize, he stared at the hard lines of his back. When he activated his quirk the hardening deepened the definition of his muscles as they raised up in craggy patterns that drew hills and valleys down the length of his spine.

His strength and resilience was hot as shit. Bakugo could train with him until his arms trembled with overuse from his quirk and not a single scorch mark would be left on the redhead, just another wide smile. Even close-range explosions couldn’t crack him, and he could think of situations other than close combat where that would be useful.

“Shame that you can’t scratch those shoulders up, ain’t it?” Connie murmured over his shoulder.

Not quite, he mused to himself. He had great control of himself when it came to his quirk, but where Kirishima was concerned was rapidly becoming a different story.

Say he did try to scratch those shoulders—if his quirk went off because he was in a stupidly dizzy haze due to Kirishima being that close to him, he wouldn’t hurt him. A far bigger blessing in his opinion. Besides, scratches weren’t the only way he could mark him up.

“What’s that smirk for baby?”

“Eat shit and die.”

Bakugo wasn’t a rule breaker. He lived his life on the straight and narrow in every aspect except apparently for his sexuality. Which is how he ended up breaking locker room rule number one: don’t check out your bros when changing.

At least he wasn’t obvious about it though, he justified. A peek from the corner of his eye here, a half-lidded glance there. With a quirk like his he didn’t get the chance to be subtle often but he was damn good at it.

No one around him knew that from his peripheral he was tracing the outline of Kirishima’s body in just his boxer briefs, savoring it for every second he could before his uniform pants slid up his legs.

A soft tickle on his arm let him know that something had noticed and he grimaced at the sound of her voice.

“Ohhh you picked a good one, my tasty little cherry bomb,” she cooed from her position against the lockers, bottom lip bitten between her teeth as she gazed longingly over his shoulder. “I could bounce an American quarter off of that tight little ass.”

“Shut your damn mouth!” he hissed as a furious blush covered his cheeks. Another glance at his friend showed that he was finishing the top button on his shirt before tucking it into his pants. He could even make the uniform look good, it was entirely unfair.

“Even with clothes on that boy has you feeling tingly,” she teased as tendrils of her hair wrapped around his waist. “But honey we gotta get in them pants and find out if those red drapes have a matching carpet!”

Before he could stop it his traitorous mouth revealed, “They don’t.”

She gasped and pulled him closer with her hair, his bare chest pressed against her furry one. “Start talking, motherfucker.”

“Fuck, it’s not a big deal!” he defended, squirming in the tight grip of her hair. “You’ve seen his hero costume—he’s shirtless! His happy trail is pitch black, okay? It’s… just something I noticed. And then that pink bitch told me he started dying and spiking it for high school, in middle school it was still black and he always wore it down.”

Connie narrowed her eyes but unwound her hair to let him finish dressing, crossing her arms as she surveyed the remaining boys. The locker room was almost completely empty save for himself, Kirishima, and Kaminari.

“He doesn’t like her, does he?”

Bakugo paused as he pulled on his blazer. “Raccoon Eyes? No? I mean, shit, I don’t know? I just know they went to the same middle school or whatever.”

She hummed. “Middle school friends, high school sweethearts, hero power couple, lil pink babies with some sharp teeth…”

“Shut. the hell. up,” he warned. “I’d know if he liked her, I’m his best friend. He’d tell me shit like that.”

“When?” she asked sassily. “You haven’t spent a lick of time alone with that boy since my cute ass got here. You’ve only hung out together in your little group so when would he tell you?”

The fact that she had made a damn good point had him wanting to blow up the entire building.

“Fuck you,” he spat, slamming his locker shut. He shoved his bag under his arm and stomped over to his friends, Kirishima spotting him over Kaminari’s shoulder and giving him a grin that should not have been as hot as it was.

“Hey, man!” he greeted, Kaminari turning and doing the same.

Bakugo grabbed the sleeve of his blazer and tugged him towards the door. “Walk with me.”

He stumbled as he followed, a clumsy wave to Kaminari thrown over his shoulder as he gained his bearings enough to walk with his friend once they reached the hallway. He’d since let go of his sleeve, hands shoved into his pockets and a flush to his cheeks.

“Everything good bro?” Kirishima asked with a furrowed brow.

“I gotta go to the shopping district tomorrow.”

“Oh, what do you have to get?”

“Got a bunch of shit I need to grab,” he huffed as they exited the building and started down the path to the dorms. “You said there was a new album you wanted to get, yeah?”

He grinned, surprised but delighted that he’d remembered him mentioning it. “Yeah, it’s a rerelease of my favorite album on vinyl and when I looked at it online it was so cool! Like the actual record is dark blue and then it has—”

“Just come with me tomorrow and show me then, Hair for Brains.”

“O-oh? I mean, yeah. Yeah!” he said excitedly. “What time were you thinking of going?”

“Train leaves at nine.”

The sharp smile was blinding and dammit he wanted to blast the butterflies in his stomach straight to hell where the little beasts belonged. Half of him was desperate to keep the smile on his lips while the other half wondered how hard would be too hard if Kirishima ever bit his neck as he worked a red and purple bruise into his skin, and just imagining it had him quickening his pace to get the fuck to his dorm room and take care of the rapidly growing problem just below his belt.

Kirishima kept up with his longer strides and didn’t leave his side as they got into the elevator to go to their floor. For the time being, Bakugo hated that their rooms were right next door to one another. He was bound to hear him moan his name some night (what if it was that night? or in the next five minutes?) and he was wholly unprepared to try and talk his way out of that particular situation.

“Did you see the group chat?”

Bakugo blinked. “What?”

“Sero’s dad dropped off like eight boxes of dango from Tokyo and he said he was gonna share with us after dinner! Do you want me to get you when it’s time for dinner and then we can find them to eat? Wait, do you think he’s gonna share with the entire class? Because I’d feel bad if we were the only ones—”

“Just knock on my door when you’re ready to eat,” he grunted as he pulled his keycard out of his pocket, strategically angling his hips away from his friend. “I’m starting my essay.”

“Oh yeah, sure!” he agreed as Bakugo entered his room. “I probably should too, I mean the English translations take me forever and that essay’s supposed to be like two thousand words—”

He closed the door on his rambling and dropped his bag to the floor. Like fuck was he starting that essay when he could feel his heartbeat in his underwear.

“You know…”

Shit.

“…even if it takes him a while to translate I’ve got some nice English phrases you can drop on your date tomorrow, baby.”

“It’s not a date, shitty bitch!” he hissed as he threw open his closet door to find comfier clothes to change into. The sound of her voice was an instant boner killer so the great idea of jerking off before dinner was shot down as he’d gone softer with each word that rolled off of her tongue.

“But it could be!” she said, excitedly throwing her hands above her head.

“No.”

“But you heard how excited he was! You two can sit nice and close on the train and if your jacket’s over your laps? Honey!”

“You need to fucking get over the idea that tomorrow is a date because I only did it to hang out and see if he actually does like Pinky. He fucking doesn’t but now I wanna hear him say it,” he grumbled as he slipped his tshirt over his head.

Connie sighed as she slumped down to sit on his bed. “Katsuki, can you just let yourself be honest? You want it to be a date. Since we met I’ve always pegged you as a guy who gets what he wants. Why are you so against this?”

Bakugo paused for several reasons. The first was the use of his given name because really, had she ever even said his name? Given or surname? Not that he could remember; it was always too-sweet pet names with her. Second was the tone which held no sass or sex appeal or teasing. And the last one was the fact that shit, he did go after what he wanted, didn’t he? Except…

“I’ve got him as a friend and a bastard like me can’t wish for much more than that. ‘S already more than I deserve at this point.”

“Baby, punishing yourself ain’t helping anybody.”

“I’m not punishing myself!” he snapped. “I’m stating a fact! I won’t ask for more when it isn’t something that can happen!”

“You mean you can’t be brave enough to take a chance.”

His shoulders tensed and anger sparked both from his palms and throughout his entire being. Him? Not brave? HIM? Katsuki FUCKING Bakugo? Future Number One Pro Hero of Japan?

“Shitty woman I’m braver than half of the extras in this school���in this country!—and don’t you ever fucking question that again! I’ll fucking show you who’s not brave! Stupid fucking bitch with your goddamn furry ass tits coming into my room and calling me a fucking coward..!”

He continued his angry rambling as he stomped to his door and yanked it open as hard as he could.

Turning away from Bakugo, Kirishima entered his room and tossed his blazer aside, one hand raking through the gelled spikes of his hair. His smile dropped; he was ready to lay in his bed with Fleetwood Mac on shuffle and wallow like the sad, gay disaster in love with his best friend that he was.

“Hey there, big boy.”

He nearly jumped out of his hardened skin at the smooth greeting from the monster posed atop his sheets, one leg kicked up behind him with a hoof pointing to the ceiling and his head lazily held by a propped-up arm.

“Maury you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, sorry. Hey, listen, how’d everything go with your blonde boom stick? Did we see his boom stick yet? Tell me I didn’t miss it because I’ve gotta know if that kid’s pubes are as spiky as his hair.”

He frowned as he changed from his uniform into his lounge clothes. “You’re gross, dude. But anyway, Bakugo doesn’t like me like that. You gotta stop pushing it.”

“Kirishima, c’mon, you gotta have a little faith!”

“Faith in what? That he asked me to go to the shopping district with him tomorrow as a date? That’s not likely, man.”

The monster rolled his eyes as he stood up and approached him, arms crossed in front of his chest and an unimpressed look on his impish face. He hadn’t particularly wanted to pull this card but goddammit this kid had to get a fucking grip.

“Super unmanly of you not to act on your feelings, Red,” he goaded. “I thought no regrets meant you’d man up and shoot your shot with that walking stick of dynamite but I guess you’re not as strong in those beliefs as I thought.”

“C’mon man, that’s not fair!” Kirishima said with a pout.

He threw his hands up. “Am I wrong though? One day you’re gonna regret not saying anything and be upset when you realize that you two coulda been together.”

The redhead bit his lip. “I can’t just ruin our friendship like that.”

“Kid, listen. Do you think that Crimson guy you like would keep his feelings for someone a secret like this? Or would he sack up and figure out if those feelings are returned? I’m not sayin’ I’m great at the whole romance part of all this but damn, you gotta try!”

“I can’t!”

“Can’t or won’t? Trying doesn’t mean professing your love straight away! Just go ask him something about tomorrow like why he asked just you and not all your friends. Get a feel for it before you get a feel of him!”

Kirishima bit his lip. “I guess… I guess I could ask why the rest of our friends weren’t invited. Maybe say that Kaminari texted me…”

His voice trailed off as he turned to his door, brows furrowing as he considered the idea of going next door to Bakugo’s room. Without knowing or meaning to his feet carried him across the room and only once he had stepped out into the hallway did he realize what had happened, his lips parting in surprise and then even further when Bakugo’s door flung open and the blonde stepped out of his room. His face was flushed and his teeth were bared but when he realized Kirishima was in the hallway too the snarl dropped into a neutral frown.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Kirishima slowly approached his best friend. “Hey. I was just coming to see you.”

“Yeah? You ready for dinner now?”

“No,” he said. “I wanted to uh…”

He cocked an eyebrow at his friend, not used to the hesitation. It was… fuck, it was cute.

“Bakugo, tomorrow—”

“Is a date,” the blonde finished with conviction. He hoped the anxiety curled in his gut wasn’t visible on his face because shit, he may have just made the biggest mistake of his damn life if this went sideways.

Kirishima’s jaw dropped. “A-A date? We’re going on a date?”

Bakugo rolled his eyes and reached out to fist his hands in the horrendous orange shirt and yank him close, his body warming at the blush that rose on the redhead’s cheeks.

“We’re going on a fucking date,” he said before cupping the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. The muffled noise of surprise quickly turned into kissing him back and holy fucking shit he was kissing Kirishima.

Behind them stood the two hormone monsters, smirks across both their faces at one more first kiss in the books. Maury held his hand out for a low five and without even looking Connie batted his hand away and gave a slap to his ass.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Crackfics aren’t my specialty and I know there were some OOC moments but I hope this at least made y’all laugh lmao 

[undertalethingems]

cyanidelemonade replied to your post “swirlingflight replied to your post “I got a fun question for you....”

@undertalethingems he does WHAT with pasta sauce!?!?

he drinks it, and recommends using rigatoni as a straw

that’s right. sans isn’t the only skeleton who’ll drink tomato-based products

i’m tellin ya, if you don’t do the phone calls you’re missing out on some choice comedy

[emmettsmantiddies]

Hello!!!Can you please tell me about your cats-🐺

Hello Wolf Pal (Every time I see that emoji I think “it’s a wolf thing” lol)

So I have 4 cats! 3 of them are siblings (Junie, Pepper, Wrigley) and one is my baby (Wilbur)

And this turned out super duper long, so below the cut it shall be! (open at ur own risk I’m not kidding it’s long)

Junie is the leader. When we met the three siblings (we call them the babies because when we adopted them we had a senior cat, he has since passed but we still call them that, confusing, I know) she was the first one out. My dad and I were insistent that we get her, my mom and sister wanted the two fluffies. My dad said “get three of them” and we did. Junie is, like most female cats, not the most friendly with everybody. Don’t get me wrong, she’s sweet, but she’s only really bonded to me and my mom, and she only bonded with my mom after I left for college. She likes to play with small plush toys--she’s stolen little milk carton plushies and dumpling plushies from me before. They are now hers. She’s also known for being weird. She scratches around her food when she’s done or if she wants to come back to it later; cats do this in the wild to protect their food. She also tends to clean her brothers--and Wilbur too, on occasion. Her full name is Juniper, but we rarely call her that. Her other nicknames are June, Junebug, BugBug, Buggy, Booba, and Boob (I started calling her Booba for no good reason and it got shortened to Boob lol). She’s a good girl, but a little odd.

Pepper is probably best described as a himbo. He’s very puffy (although to the untrained eye he and Wrigley are practically indistinguishable), and he’s slightly browner than Wrigley and has a longer face and more distinguished nose. He also looks like he’s wearing harem pants. Pepper likes to give love bites. They do not feel like love bites; they hurt. He will try to give you an eyebrow piercing if given the opportunity. Pepper likes to play with balls with bells in them, he also likes strings. Pepper was originally Wrigley because we thought Wrigley was a girl. But, since Pepper was darker at the time, we switched Wrigley to Pepper and Lily to Wrigley (confusing, right?). Pepper is my mom’s cat; although, he’ll settle for me on occasion. He’s very complacent and just loves to sit with my mom and sleep with her at night. He will sometimes “scarf her,” that is, he’ll lay across her neck like a scarf. He likes to watch water coming out of faucets--I say he’s a himbo because he gets surprised by the water every. Darn. Time. He’s the largest in terms of puff, but actually weighs the least. His nicknames include PingPing (I’m not sure where this nickname came from), Pepperoni, and the most notorious nickname he has is PP. I gave him that one, but hear me out! Pepper has two P’s right next to each other in the middle, right? So PP stands for those 2 P’s. 

Wrigley is a grumpy old man trapped in a fat kitty’s body. Wrigley is built like he swallowed a cylinder--a cylinder of fat. He’s stocky, his hair is more gray, and he looks like a frilled lizard in cat form. He has a big belly, but only like the lower half--he has a practically hairless section (it’s always been like this, he’s fine) that’s very pink, and so aptly named (by yours truly) “the pink part.” When he grooms that area, it’s known as “pink part maintenance.” Wrigley is the best at standing on two feet--he looks like a meerkat when he does. He also has a grudge/vendetta/hatred towards my older sister. She left for college when the babies were less than a year old, and when she came back after a while, she brought her cat that she adopted, Salem (also known as Pookie). Salem and (really all of the babies) Wrigley did not get along, and Wrigley started to associate my sister with Pookie and ever since has had a... not so friendly relationship with her. He growls at her, hisses (he has a pathetic hiss, it comes out in spurts), but then he’ll also act like he wants her to pet him. He will also chase people for fun and bite their ankles when they stop (he doesn’t mean any harm when he does this). Wrigley is finnicky. He doesn’t always like to be picked up and will growl/grumble when someone does. But he’s also needy, he will come and demand attention by trying to suffocate me and lay on my chest. He became friends with Wilbur early on--it surprised everyone because of how grumpy he is, we expected he’d hate Wilbur the most, but that title goes to Pepper. Wrigley doesn’t play very often--he’s a watcher. But he likes hairties and milk caps. He’s an odd little guy. His nicknames include Wriggy, Ricky (my sister’s friend misheard us call him Wriggy and now he’s stuck with that name), Richard, Reginald, Rigatoni, Wriggle Piggle, and Rinchy.

Wilbur is my baby. He is actually an ordained minister an emotional support animal. I got permission to bring him with me to college last year, although I adopted him earlier in the summer. He was the runt of the litter and now he’s huge. He doesn’t look like it because he’s muscular, but he’s a whopping 14 pounds! He’s built like a greyhound with a tiny head and lean body. His tail is crazy long and when he runs around the tip of it flops in the air in what I like to call “the flagella tail.” His nose freckle has grown with his nose over time, and my parents (especially my mom) actually didn’t want me to adopt him because of it!! I’m glad I didn’t listen. Wilbur is a momma’s boy, and the only one I will accept in this household. He loves to cuddle me (doesn’t cuddle anyone else), he loves kisses (will seek them out), and he nurses on me. He’s done this since he was a baby, partially because we got him too early (they thought he was 8 weeks, he was six) and it makes him happy and secure. He’s an absolute menace--if he can get into something, he will. We had to put child locks on our drawers in our dorm because Wilbur could open them and would get into everything. He likes paper a lot, so any paper lying around is forfeit to him. He rides on my walker, scooter, and stairlift, and he likes to be near me when I shower. I used to use a shower/bath combo, and he’d sit on the ledge of the tub between two curtains, but now he lays outside the shower. He runs around and chirps a lot, chasing bugs and other things. He also likes straws and will play fetch. He also likes squinkies--those old pencil toppers that came in cute shapes. Junie likes them too. Wilbur is also known to be a thief, he’s stolen my little baggies of gems for diamond paintings and run off with them, determination in his gaze. He’s quite clever and sly, which makes my life very difficult sometimes lol. He runs like a bulldog, with a barrel-like chest, and he has been my rock ever since I got him, as I was dealing with health issues and life issues. I wouldn’t trade him for the world (this extends to the babies as well, but I really feel like I’m Wilbur’s mom). I also call him little man, Wibble, Wilby, Wibby, Wibs, Wilbs, Snoot (there’s a story to this nickname), and one of my faves is Wibby P. Butts, Esquire (no clue where it came from honestly).

Sorry for rambling, but I love my babies! Obligatory pictures below, they’ll be in the same order as I wrote about them:)

[maeelizabethg]

PLANT-BASED BREAKFAST, LUNCH, AND DINNER

Hi guys! Today I’m giving you three super easy plant-based recipes. For those of you who don’t know, my husband is vegan and has been for about five or so years, and I’ve been pescatarian for almost a year. We are no strangers to plant-based food, but I totally understand that it can be really intimidating when you’re first starting out. I’ll be honest, some plant-based options are YUCK, but that’s the case with ANY food, right? I mean even the meat-eaters out there can agree that you’ve had an amazing burger and you’ve also had a really terrible one. The good news is, plant-based brands have come a LONG way and some options out there are IDENTICAL to the “real” thing - it’s crazy!

I’m here to tell you about 3 recipes that you’ll love. Full disclosure, this blog post is NOT sponsored, but I did work with Kroger on some Instagram content. So if you’re in the south you can find all of these ingredients there. I genuinely just want these recipes to be easily available to you guys whether you’re dipping your toes into the plant-based world or just doing meatless Fridays because of lent.

PLANT-BASED BERRY SMOOTHIE:

Serving Size: 1 Smoothie Ingredients:

1 banana

1 cup mixed frozen berries

3/4 cup oat milk

Hand full of spinach

1/2 tbsp cinnamon

2 tbsp PB2 

Blend until smooth and serve with a reusable straw. :)

PLANT-BASED DELI SANDWICH 

Serving Size: 1 Sandwich Ingredients:

Whole wheat bread

Simple Truth Plant Based Ham Deli Slices

Field Roast Chao “cheese” slices

Hand full of spinach 

Half an avocado 

Cucumber slices 

Mustard of your choice

Put it together and enjoy! This one is great for the kids lunches or in our case, we always take sandwiches when we go on the boat in the summer time. The deli “meat” and the “cheese” slices are A+ and if you don’t live in the south, I highly recommend anything you see from the brand “Field Roast” because it’s available all over the country.

Plant-Based Alfredo Pasta with Broccoli and Savory Smoky Crunchies

Serving Size: 2 

Ingredients:

8 oz of pasta (we used rigatoni)

1 head of Broccoli 

1 tbsp or less of Vegetable Oil or Olive Oil

1 cup Coconut

2 tsp Liquid Aminos (Tamari or soy sauce would work as well)

1/2 tsp Liquid Smoke

4 tsp Maple Syrup

Salt and Pepper to taste

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Have large non-stick skillet on stand by. 

Cut head of broccoli into bite size pieces. Toss in olive oil (or vegetable oil), salt, and pepper. Place on baking tray and bake for 8-10min or until lightly browned. 

While broccoli is cooking, add pasta to the boiling water and cook according to the directions on package. Most likely it will be around 8-10 minutes until al dente. When pasta is finished cooking, reserve 1/2 cup of pasta water and put to the side, drain the remaining pasta water, return pasta back to the large pot and keep off heat. 

To make the savory crispy bits, place a large non-stick skillet over low heat. Add coconut flakes, Liquid Aminos, liquid smoke, maple syrup, and a pinch of salt and pepper. Toss consistently until the coconut is evenly coated and the coconut is cooked until slightly browned. This should take 5-7 minutes. Transfer to a plate or bowl when done. 

Add the Alfredo sauce and 1/2 cup of pasta water to the cooked pasta. Reduce over low-medium heat.

Divide the saucy pasta into two dishes. Top with broccoli and crunchies. Salt and pepper if needed. Enjoy!

If you guys have any plant-based brands that you love, please drop them in the comments below. I also love the No Evil Pulled Pork, JUST egg, Miyoko’s Mozzarella, Earth Balance butter, Nasoya Kimcbhi, Field Roast Apple Sage Sausages, FIeld Road Choa slices (used in recipe above), and Treeline French-style nut cheese (SO GOOD with crackers) to name a few!

[drundertalescum]

[1/2] About your angsty pasta post, I actually thought he was mirroring Sans's interests, or at least what he thought Sans might like. Well, with the pastas he talks about in relation to food, at least. Sans likes ketchup, which is made with tomatoes. Papyrus makes spaghetti and used to make lasagna, both of which use tomatoes. He also brings up rigatoni as a straw for drinking sauce, which considering his household, is probably tomato-based.

[2/2] From the QA, Undyne thought Papyrus’s favorite food was spaghetti, which might imply that she teaches him how to fix it because he specifically asked about it. Repeatedly. (If she only taught him that recipe because it was the only thing she knew how to make, she probably wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that it’s his favorite food.) So he probably learned so much about pasta because he wanted to find something to cook for Sans.

Oh that is sweet! I like the idea that Papyrus picked spaghetti because he thought Sans would like it. Maybe he was trying to find a healthy alternative to Sans’s ketchup and grease addiction. 

Another idea I like is that Sans isn’t quiet about how bad Papyrus’s cooking is to him (”NO ONE’S EVER ENJOYED MY COOKING BEFORE!!”), so maybe he keeps making it to try to get it up to Sans’s food critic standards.

And thus the food museum and everyone thinking Papyrus must just love spaghetti since no one else is eating that crap. At first he was a bit hurt, but now it’s a challenge!

Imagine Sans taking a single bite out of every dish Papyrus makes and giving his assessment. 

“still inedible.”

“YOU TOOK TOO SMALL A BITE!”

“that bite size is the only reason i’m alive. you can’t use industrial glue in food.”

“WHY NOT??”

“it’s toxic? listen… just never use it.”

“SANS! THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS ‘NEVER’ IN THE CULINARY ARTS!”

“you get that from cookin with a killer robot?”

“NO THAT ONE WAS FROM UNDYNE.”

“ah.”

“...I’LL FIND A MORE TASTEFUL WAY TO USE THE INDUSTRIAL GLUE, NEXT TIME.”

“alright, bro. i’ll be here.”

Papyrus keeps every tupperware container Sans said something positive about.

[aviationfiction]

XVIII

Dante St. James 

“Vous deux aurais dû avoir une assiette de pâtes au lieu de pizza.”

Autumn slightly lifted her head to eye the gleeful woman and halted the bite she was planning to take of the three cheese pizza. As her eyes panned to mine, I slightly shrugged my shoulders in clear confusion and obliviousness to the woman’s statement, and she glanced back in her direction while trying to decipher the utterance with the limited knowledge of the French language she has. Suddenly the woman’s eyes began to look past the two of us and we both followed her eager expression and landed on the famous portrait of The Lady And The Tramp enjoying a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. The knowing smirk on the pale faced woman was just enough to cause Autumn to erupt into laughter and she playfully bid her a smirk to further feed into whatever suggestive narrative she had going on in her head. Instinctively, a small smirk crept up on my face as Autumn leaned back in the chair and continued to fill my ears with her infectious cackling. The gleam in her eyes and her flawless skin radiated with every second of her laughter and like the magnetic force she is, stares of admiration from those around us came and went as they passed our cozy little table for two. As our random intruder stepped away, her giggle began to subside as she bashfully ran her fingers through her long jet black tresses and she returned to her upright position where a slice of pizza and a bowl of steaming hot Rigatoni Bolognese were waiting for her to consume.

“I didn’t even notice. Maybe because I was so hungry and pizza was on my mind.” Her eyes glanced over the restaurant and she took in the ambiance. The dim lightning kissed her skin and further added to my inevitable drunken enamor of her beauty. The glimmer in her eyes heightened as she began to mumble along with the faint music that was purposefully playing to set the mood and further drown the visitors into the magic of Disney.

“Side by side with your loved one, you’ll find enchantment here. The night will weave its magic spell, when the one you love is near.” I chuckled as she suddenly deepened her voice to match the Italian singers tone and she batted her alluring sage eyes.

“The woman said that we should be eating spaghetti instead of pizza. It’s an ode to the cute little kiss between the pups. This restaurant is named after the song Bella Notte. It’s the song sung while Lady and Tramp were out on a date outside of Tony’s Town Square Restaurant. Here I am thinking we’re just grabbing a quick bite to eat and we ended up swarmed with romance.”

“So you’re saying that you want to order spaghetti?” It was my turn to laugh as hard as she had been doing when she lightly kicked my leg and curved her lips to the left of her face. Her eyes playfully rolled in unison with her facial expression and she finally smiled to conclude the response.

“No, I’m not saying that. It’s just ironic and hilarious. Have you ever seen the movie?”

“No.”

“My God Dante, what have you seen? Do you watch television or films? I feel like you really live in a bubble. You’re so out of the loop when it comes to popular culture outside of business and marketing. I bet I can ask you about the latest iPhone and you can give me a run down about it but if I ask you about A Low Down Dirty Shame, you’re going to be like huh, what’s that.”

“I’ve actually seen that.” She raised an eyebrow in pure surprise and threw her hands up.

“Well excuse me. I’m still going to compile a list of films that you need to see. Well, I’ll do two lists. One will feature classic black films and then the other will feature classic films overall. Don’t get caught up in House Of Cards, because that’s current. You can always catch up. The movies are more important.” She filled her mouth with a spoon full of the pasta and I nodded in approval. It’s become annoying to hear people having small talk about what I haven’t seen or reminiscing on a film from years ago that I’ve barely heard of. I focused my time and interests on enriching my mind and my side hobbies were basketball, a bit of football, and reading. Television is always a last resort because I’ve never had the time or patience to actually sit down and just watch it unless there’s sports on. Seeing movies was always Fredrick’s thing. It still is. He could care less about the film though. A movie outing was his way of suavely getting a girl into a dark theater so he could whisper in her ear to ease her body just enough for her to grant him permission to grope various parts of her and most of all, to give him access to a region he had no business sticking his fingers into in a public establishment. Now, I’ll take Autumn up on her offer to broaden my film knowledge, just as I have done with social media. She’s cultured far more than I am. How can I deny her?

“Sounds good. I’ll check them out on those days when I get off work and want to do nothing more than have a quick meal and chill out.”

“Or on the plane. Instead of taking out your laptop for work; it can be for movies instead. On the way home tomorrow, I’ll put on something. Love Jones or maybe The Best Man. We’ll start there.”

“Love Jones? Starring who?”

“Larenz Tate and Nia Long.”

“Fine ass Nia Long?” She chuckled as she quickly nodded her head.

“Yes sir. Fine ass Nia Long. You have a thing for her? With all the connections that you have, why haven’t you made it happen? I’m one hundred precent sure you can pull Nia Long. She likes them tall and light skinned too.” A smirk danced along her lips and my eyes glanced over her perfect cupid’s bow. Everything’s a tease or rather a banter to draw an answer out of you good enough to satisfy her curiosity. Since being here, we’ve encountered tons of people who had no reluctance about opening themselves and their lives up to her welcoming aura. The elders could barely speak a word of English and yet were willingly struggling to impress this cool mannered and majorly impish woman. Everything plays a part; her body language, facial expressions, tone of voice, and most of all, the eye contact. Her eyes; they blaze a hole through your core and peer straight into your soul. They’re hypnotic and enthralled with an undeniable tempt to submit to her. She’s impossible.

“I said she’s fine. I didn’t say I wanted her.” Our eyes met and I expected to be taken aback by her ever present challenging glare but instead a hint of confusion was meshed in with silent questions as she slightly leaned toward.

“Do you keep that part of yourself tucked away?”

“Which part?”

“The part where you outwardly and verbally express that you’re interested in a woman.”

“No, I don’t.” Her held tilted and the blank expression that followed drew a chuckle from my end.

“I’ve yet to see it.”

“Maybe you haven’t or maybe you’re just not looking hard enough.” She glanced down at plate of pizza and bowl of rigatoni and returned her attention to my face. I’d been the cause of her losing interest in the bit of food she had left. As she wiped her hands with the white cloth napkin and I too, decided to do the same. We’d come to eat as a breather due to a headache creeping up on her after the two of us experienced one too many rides. She refused to take any medication and instead suggested that we eat something. Though she played it off as a hunger headache, I know better, and that’s why we’re not going anywhere near a ride during the rest of our time here. I’d rather take her scolding me for the rest of the day than to risk her being in pain over constant motion and air pressure on her delicate head.

“I can’t even judge you. I’m no expert on anything like that. I was a prude in high school and very socially awkward. I was undeveloped in all the areas that make me a woman and I wasn’t on the radar of any of the boys within the building. I only hung out with Heather and I had a couple of girls I associated with loosely. I was focused on the academics. Heather’s gorgeous ass dated and she’d try to get me out of that shell but it wasn’t working. Even when I went to college, I didn’t date. My family thought I was so above it or rather too cool but that was far from the truth. My brother knew it. He was in tune with my hopeless romantic mentality more than anyone else was.”

“Issac? No offense but you two don’t seem very close. I’m sure you love one another but I don’t get a strong bond from you two.” Her eyes glanced in the direction of the cold glass of water and she nervously swirled the straw around the glass. Her shoulders slumped and the long swallow she took wasn’t a good sign. Silence fell between us for a minute or so before she mustered up the courage to speak again.

“My brother Shane. He’s deceased.”

“I’m sorry.” After a nod of her head, a sigh slipped past my lips as her eyes met mine yet again.

“Car accident. Two years ago. We were together that day. I’d been staying at his apartment ever since I made the decision to run from my problems in Miami. He was more than my brother. He was like a soulmate in a sense. We were so tight that he decided he’d move down to Miami to be with me while I tried to get my marriage as well as my own shit together. Life had other plans though.”

“I can tell from the look in your eyes how close the two of you were. I couldn’t imagine a loss like that. I can’t even sit here and tell you that I understand or feel your pain. What I can say is I admire your strength and ability to speak about him with me.” She finally halted the twirling of the water and ice chips to take a sip of it.

“Therapy and him, honestly. I don’t know. I just feel him. I know it sounds superstitious and even farfetched but I do. There are things that I cannot do just yet because I’m still coming to terms with it but I feel him. You know what’s funny, there are things about you that remind me of him. You’re so kind, just like he was. I know being kind is something so general but there was something about his kindness that stood out and was admirable. You have that. He was an optimist in the same manner that you are. He motivated me. You do too. He’d do it verbally but really, watching him was just enough for me. He accomplished so much in such a short time professionally but most of all the man he became personally was everything that I wanted to parallel in my womanhood. I get those same vibes from watching you.”

“You want to parallel me?” I aloofly dropped the napkin into my plate and eyed her with a sudden mixture of astonishment and honor. I hadn’t expected that and every nerve in my body left ticks and chills scurrying throughout my entire frame as I did my best to grasp it. I’ve heard and accepted praise from many about what I’ve done and accomplished within my career thus far and I’m always appreciative when my personal persona is positively noted but there’s something about a genuine and timorous Autumn granting me such tribute that supersedes all of it. As her fingers toy with the ends of her hair and her watery eyes search my own for some type of acceptance of her comparison of me and the man dearest to her, as well as her admission that I serve as an unexpected motivation, I want to do nothing more than wrap my arms around her timid and saddened frame.

“No. You’re great but most of all you’re a good person like Shane. I’d like to be the same but in my own way.”

“You already are. Don’t let your current circumstances have you believing that you’re anything less than great. To be great isn’t always about grand accomplishments or accolades. Greatness is doing your best no matter what the outcome is. It’s about knowing that you left it all on the table each and every single time and you can rest well knowing that. You can walk away with your dignity knowing that, Autumn.” It’s better said than believed. Her facial expression oozed her doubt and agony though she’d been masking it since we’ve been in this beautiful city. It wasn’t my intention to conclude my response with a direct reference to her divorce but I couldn’t refrain from doing so. It’s what’s eating her alive and constantly tormenting her beautiful soul. I’ve never seen quite a reaction to a divorce like hers. I’m sure heartache and loss is apart of the long stretch of emotional turmoil but for her, failure surpasses both.  She believes she’s failed him rather than it being mutual or Andreas having more liability than she does.

“I’m trying. More than anything, I need to grasp how all the signs were there and I foolishly ignored them. I can pinpoint every moment I received some sort of sign that our fate may not be what I dreamt of and yet I still went full steam ahead. I have no regrets. More than anything, it’s the disappointment and the failure. In this case, I had no room for failure. I really didn’t.”

“There’s always room for failure much like there’s always room for improvement or success. You took a leap of faith on love. You didn’t do anything wrong. If we don’t take leaps, we’ll be stagnant. We can’t always pick apart everything or turn our circumstances into perfection, no matter how much we want to. We’re going to learn tons of lessons in life; some tougher than others. I’ve learned plenty. I used to be very negative because I was angry. I had to come to an understanding that being a pessimist was only making the anger and the pressure worse. Optimism helps. It’s hard to believe that initially, but I swear it does. I’ll never lie to you. Do you feel like you’ve hit rock bottom? Do you feel like you’ve really taken a hard fall?”

“Hell yeah.” She darkly chuckled.

“Then there’s no where to go but up. Get up. The wounds will heal. Try again.”

“You promise?”

“Do I promise that the wounds will heal?”

“No. Do you promise that you’ll never lie to me?” She adamantly searched my eyes looking for the possibility of dishonesty. I can count every lie I’ve told and recall the people I’ve told them to and why. There’s not many; mostly my parents and the lies were all for the sake of mental relief. Though I’ve considered lying to my mother many times to relieve her efforts to soothe the emotional wounds she’s inflicted upon me, I’ve never done it because I’d be giving her the easy way out of acknowledging where she went wrong. I’ll rather face the truth, whether it be pleasant or ugly, than live behind a mask for the rest of my life. Autumn deserves honesty. She needs it. It’s the only way she’s ever going to trust me. It’s the only way she’ll ever trust this.

“I promise. I will never lie to you. You promise the same?”

“I promise.”

“You ready to go and see this night time show? We’ll do that, get out of here, change, and go to that strip club you want to go to so badly.” She fell into a fit of laughter as she playfully rolled her eyes. The waitress who’d been back and forth to our table throughout the hour we’ve been here approached the table with the check and I placed a couple of bills down without ever opening the leather pouch.

“It’s not a strip club. It’s better than the strip club. Also, when are you going to let me pay for something?” It was my turn to roll my eyes at her and she shook her head while smirking at my own reaction. Never.

“A man never makes a lady pay.”

“That’s nice but it’s alright to have a woman treat you sometimes.” I made the move to stand up and she followed. My body slightly froze as she willingly helped me into my jacket and shivers danced along the nape of my neck as she fixed the collar into it’s proper position.

“There are ways to treat your man; well a man without money.” She snickered. As I turned to face her, there she stood with that eyebrow slightly raised and the ever present questioning look in her eyes as she silently probed me into elaborating on that statement.

“Not like that.” Though she tossed her leather jacket over her arm, I grabbed it and opened it up for her to easily get into. It’s not summer here yet and I’m more than sure it’s chillier outside than it was when we decided to walk here for a bite to eat. She didn’t protest. Instead she slipped her arms in, one at a time, and allowed me to pull it up over her shoulders.

“So that’s not apart of it?”

“It can be but it doesn’t always have to be.”

“Yeah, okay complicated man. It’s okay for your mind to go to the gutter. It’s human nature. Save it for Crazy Horse though.”

“My mind isn’t in the gutter.”

“Yeah, okay Dante. I see how you do when you’re romancing women. You take them out and show them the works, so they can give you that work later on in the night.”

Our laughter lasted the entire time we exited the restaurant and even during the walk to Sleeping Beauty’s Castle. She continued to slyly tease me about what she assumes are my potential player ways or suave maneuvers into getting women to physically give themselves to me and she’s far from what’s actually the truth. I don’t do anything. It just happens. The heat of the moment is exactly that and myself and whoever is involved takes advantage of it. I’ve never wined and dined a woman with the hopes of receiving some sexual favor in exchange for it although nights have ended that way. Honestly, I’d like to experience all of the other aspects of intimacy. That’s what I meant in my response to her. The physical is amazing but everything else that enhances it is far more important. That’s what builds the foundation for a long, lasting, and fulfilling connection to someone. I suppose that’s what my parents have. I know that’s what Stacey has. I don’t even know what the hell Matthew and Camille have but I know she’s not as happy as she should be with him though she won’t say it. She’s loyal to him despite that. I’d like her type of loyalty from a woman but I’d return it without ever faltering on it unlike my other brother who only cares to be loyal to himself and Richard. If I’m going to vow myself to someone one of these days, I’m going to do so with the expectation that we’re going to make every single sacrifice possible for our love and the unbreakable bond of our union; speaking only a language that we can understand and basking in a life with ourselves and eventually our children as the most important aspects worth living for.  

“It’s in French and yet it’s still cool as shit. No lie.” Autumn quickly glanced up at my face with a beaming smile on her face and she nudged me with her shoulder as I slightly lost myself into the magic that she’s been raving about since we stepped through the entry gates earlier. The dazzling lights, luminous sparkles, booming pyrotechnics, and world famous Disney tunes were all intricately planned and well crafted into this incredible nighttime display that I’m glad we stuck around to see. As we slowly walked, indulging on chocolate ice cream, Autumn dreamily explained that this is the only place on earth where anything is possible and all dreams do come true…and it’s true. How can you not be carefree here? Every story that this place represents has a happy and fulfilling ending. It is a dream world. I can see it within her. One day she’ll understand that magic goes beyond all of these man made inventions. She doesn’t have to vicariously live through Walt Disney and his predecessors’ depictions of fairy tales. She can have her own, worthy enough to be printed on pages and inspiring enough for hopeless romantics to crave exactly that. If anything, this place should enrich goodness into people’s hearts. I’d like to think that’s what all of this is for and why it’s gear towards children; the purest people on the planet.

“I told you it’s amazing.” I smiled at her delayed response and took two pictures of her with my phone as she continued to immerse herself into the show and all but forgot about my presence. Well, at least I thought she did until she unexpectedly wrapped her petite arm around my own and slightly leaned her body into mine. The fluttering within the pit of my stomach heightened at the warmth of her body and my chest heaved at the feel of her weight. The show became an afterthought for my attention and my eyes wavered over the green eyed beauty through every flicker, flash, song, and transition. Her head swayed from side to side as her heart shaped lips sang along to every lyric from the various films and her grip on my arm tightened as the excitement radiated off of her and onto me. Though children and adults groaned in disappointment as the nostalgic display came to an end, Autumn could only smile in an endless bliss and satisfaction as we walked along to make our exit. She had her fill of this place and didn’t need anything more to enhance it, as did I. The next time I come here, whether it is here or in the states, I’ll be a father. It is then when I’ll be able to feel the magic again; by vicariously living through my son or daughter.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Stacey, shouldn’t you be cradling or feeding the baby right now? I’m hanging up.”

As I balanced the phone between my ear and upper shoulder area, I used both hands to swiftly tie my sneakers. I hadn’t been able to fasten my belt or button up my shirt as I scrambled around the room readying myself for tonight’s festivities. Time had been working against me ever since our arrival to the hotel and Stacey’s purposefully making it no better as she continues to probe into every single detail about this Paris trip. I deleted every single ridiculous comment she left under the photographs I’d chosen to upload on social media and nearly ignored all of her text messages filled with assumptions about the Parisian love affair she crafted in her mind to further feed her exaggerations. Her excitement is amusing but if anyone aside from myself heard or read what she’s been saying, I’d want to combust into billions of dust particles from the embarrassment.

“She took some great shots of you. I screen shot and cropped them since you refuse to send the actual pictures to my phone. Have you two kissed yet? Everyone kisses at the Eiffel Tower.”

“What? No. It’s not like that.” After a failed attempt at buckling the belt with one hand, I grabbed my cologne and sprayed it in all the places I prefer it in and carelessly tossed the bottle onto the bed.

“Bullshit. I saw the pictures that you took of her on her Instagram page and those were taken with the scope of a man who has an eye for her. It’s absolutely like that.”

“Listen to yourself. Since when you are you an expert in photography? Also how in the hell did you find her page? You’re ridiculous.”

“You followed her idiot. You were only following ten people prior to that? How did I know? Because I created the page for you and I followed those people. So of course the eleventh stuck out like a sore thumb and who was it? None other than Mrs. Autumn Dupont Harrington.” I left her with silence as I internally cringed at the sound of her entire name. That was far more unnerving than her easily shutting me up about how she found Autumn’s account.

“You’re making me late, Stace. I barely have my shirt on right now.”

“You know it’s okay to like her right? It’s okay to want her. She’s changing you already and you don’t even realize it. You would have been home already. You wouldn’t have stayed in Paris extra days after already handling your business. Pictures? Not you. Disney Land? Hell no. I can’t even get you to go into the Disney store. You turned your freaking phone off. Richard called me looking for you. He didn’t want anything important but he said that he stopped by your apartment because he figured you’d be back and you weren’t. When he called your phone, he couldn’t get through to you. Since when? If you’re not going to be real with me than be real with yourself.”

“You sure he didn’t want anything important?”

“No and fuck Richard. This isn’t about him. It’s not, because if it was, you’d be home. You took some time out for yourself, thank God. No one else has been able to get you to do that. So this is something. It’s something Tae.” A sigh fell from my lips as I ran my hand over my face. She continued on with her commentary and I stared straight ahead allowing her to speak her truth and somewhat of mine.

“Stacey.”

“Alright. I’ll let you go. Continue being a gentlemen and enjoy your night. Have a safe trip home tomorrow and I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon. Kiss the baby for me.”

“Will do. Kiss Autumn for me.” I wanted to be annoyed by that but I couldn’t refraining from joining in on her loud laughter. I can never not love that woman no matter how much she irks every nerve that I have. She’s one of a kind and she knows it.

“Bye Megaphone.”

I had only five minutes left to finish preparing myself for the night and I’d taken those plus an additional five with the hope that Autumn would be just as fashionably late as she was the other night. Though I didn’t mind picking her up from her suite, she assured me that she’d meet me in the lobby just as she’d done last night so I waited for her there. We’d garnered the curiosity of quite a few residents at this hotel since our arrival and tonight is no different. I’m not sure if it’s because of my ethnic background or because they assume I’m someone of importance. I’ve already gotten the basketball player question at Disney Land.

“Tu attends ta jolie femme?” My face contorted with confusion as I stared at the youthful concierge woman. I couldn’t pick out a single word to make sense of and I’m not sure if she knows it.

“I say are you waiting for you wife. The pretty woman?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer her. As the elevator doors slowly slid open and the operator stepped out, my chest tightened at the sight of the woman of the evening as she stepped forward in a graceful glide. With every movement her painfully perfect frame made, the material of the emerald green short dress effortlessly shifted with her; hugging her in a neediness that my arms could only dream of. Her skin glistened, further enhancing the angelic aura that is constantly exuding from her. We’ve only experienced the beginnings of Spring and yet her caramel skin is selfishly sun kissed and enchanting to those who set their eyes upon it. The clicking of her black pumps served as an additional instrument to the Bach faintly playing throughout the marbled hall and her long tresses swayed with her sauntered waltz. She’d not only captivated me, but she’d stolen the attention of the four people waiting for the elevator, the security guard to the far right, and the curious woman who stopped and questioned me. Autumn’s disarming unawareness of her power over those who see or are within the presence of her further adds to the innocence and appeal of who she is. She is art. I haven’t seen anything within The Lourve or this city quite like her.

“Vous ferez un bébé ce soir.” The woman broke my enamored glare and returned my mind into the state of confusion she had me in just seconds ago. Her giggle and mischievous expression doesn’t help.

“What?” She giggled once more as I waited an answer.

“I’m sorry for the lateness. My mother called.”

“No problem. All is well back home?”

“Yes. All is well.” She turned to look at the woman who was still very much so concerned with the two of us and she bid her a polite smile. “Hello.”

“Bonjour belle.”

“Ready?”

“I am so ready.” Her excitement for Crazy Horse came pouring out as she walked towards the exit; just steps ahead of me. I wish that hadn’t happened. My eyes refused to look anywhere other than below her waistline and I’m damn near ashamed of myself for it.

Pure red with subtle blackness radiated off of the skin of the visitors as we all sat within the spacious and yet slightly airless establishment. Though sensual in display, the entire ambiance reeked of an unspoken influence for sex and everything it further entails. We were seated in a booth within the middle of the place; surrounded by all of the other attendees who indulged on alcohol and allowed it to be the fuel for their flirtation. Autumn and I were nearly a display of everything you shouldn’t be while hanging out here as we sat and waited for the show to begin.

“This looks like a strip club to me.” She scoffed as she turned to look at me and chuckled with the shake of her head.

“How? This is place is elegant. Strip clubs don’t look like this. They don’t even play music like this. No one dresses up to go to the strip club.”

“There are people in here with jeans on.”

“And yet they still dressed their entire looks up. Wait until you see the show. It’s a performance. Strippers don’t perform like that.”

“They don’t?”

“No. They don’t put on shows. They simply dance. There’s no method to what they’re doing and a lot of them don’t even take their pole tricks seriously. I don’t have an issue with what they do, I just believe they can be better at it. I wish I could do what these ladies do here.” I glanced down at her face and stared at her with curiosity. I didn’t expect her to say anything like that.

“You’d work here?”

“No. I don’t want to work here but I’d love to do what they do. You know…for a lover. It’s spicy and fun. Don’t you think?”

“It is.”

“You’ll see. The show should be starting soon.” She took a sip of her cranberry juice and crossed her legs; a move that caused her designer dress to rise even further. Her legs…

“It’s starting. Look.” My eyes followed her hand as it pointed at the stage and fog began to fill the air as the velvet curtains slowly drew back.

I’d given the show ten minutes of my attention but the topless women and their artful display of their sexual and sensuality couldn’t distract me from the woman sitting along side me. As she looked on in awe of their performance and femininity, the masculinity within me created the illusion of her on the stage. I'd shaken my head many times, blinked more than I could count, and stared off at my surroundings and yet I couldn’t rid myself of the visual of only myself being here and her teasing and tormenting me by moving and twisting her body into positions for my eyes and pleasure only. Staring at the floor didn't help because I imagined us on it. Staring down at my lap? That was worse. The ceiling helped. It soothed me enough to be able to pull my lip from in-between my teeth and think of something other than the unattainable being who has unraveled so much about myself within a matter of days. The feel of her hip bumping into mine as she swayed to the heavy bass left a lump in my throat and the cognac in my hand nearly hit the floor as I took in a whiff of her scent.

Ninety minutes. She left me distressed for ninety minutes as she did absolutely nothing.

This is something…

“Thank you for tonight. Thanks for everything, actually.”

We took a visit to the Eiffel Tower a final time and returned to the hotel a half an hour later. We ended up on my terrace once again, with a bottle of wine and macaroons. As we comfortably sat on the couch, shoes off and bodies lazed, we took in the very sight we were just in front of.

“You don’t have to thank me. I enjoyed myself just as much as you did.”

“I needed this.”

Tomorrow when we land, I’ll head straight to my office and return to my routine. Usually, I take the day off after long hours of traveling but I have to go in and prepare for another long meeting with the NBA and finalize the contract to bring on Calvin Harris as another client. Richard will be there, waiting to give me an unnecessary lecture, and then he will drop possibly three folders on my desk filled with what Matthew has yet to handle.

“I needed this too.”

She huffed as she stood to her feet and she gifted me with the sight of the back of her body as she solemnly leaned towards the rail and dropped her head. Her shoulders followed. Her moody dwindled as she lost herself into her thoughts. She remained in that position for minutes before turning to the bedroom. I stayed seated for a few minutes more, drowning in what will become memories, and eventually met Autumn at the foot of my bed. She’d been sitting there for as long as I was outside alone, refolding and packing away my possessions.

“You’re not too good at packing.” Her husky little laugh warmed me more than the glass of wine I’d finished off and she kept her attention concentrated on the task at hand.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” She used her hand to softly push me back and she stood up.

She walked around from room to room gathering every single piece I’d unpacked and plenty of things I know I would have left behind without ever thinking of them until I returned home. She placed each item into place by size, importance, and delicacy. By the time she finished, traveling attire and the charger for my phone were the only necessaries left behind for me to use.

“Don’t forget your charger in the morning.”

“I won’t.”

“And don’t forget to pack what you’re talking off tonight.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, have a goodnight. Okay?” She nervously fiddled with her hands as she neared the suite’s main door and I stood off a few inches away from her. My hands were stuffed into my pockets because I’d be doing the same act she’s doing had they not been. Our eyes sheepishly met and the gleam I’d been relishing in for these past couple of days was no longer there. The pain of her reality crept back in like a thief in the night and stole the joy of this trip.

“Goodnight Autumn.”

The sound of the door closing behind her rang in my ears for hours. It was all I could think of until my body eventually drifted into a light slumber.

She checked out of the hotel nearly two hours before I did and was on the plane by the time I arrived. She prepared coffee, breakfast, and even turned on the film she promised that she’d play to began my journey into the greatest films that I’ve never seen. We didn’t watch it together. She kept a distance, throwing herself into the task of work, and taking a break to bury herself into the paper work of her divorce. My attempt to began a conversation failed at her one worded response and lunch was met with silence between the two of us. She shut me out for seven hours without wavering or folding to my desire for a conversation. For seven hours, I silently wished we never left.

As I returned my laptop to my backpack, I listened to the sound of her heels hitting the steps as she exited the plane. The pilots left within a minute of her and unusually, I was the last person to leave.

“Welcome home.” Issac bid me a smile and immediately shook my hand as he always does when I land here. I could barely look at him. Instead I watched as his baby sister stuffed her phone into her purse.

“How was the trip?”

“It was enlightening.”

Autumn’s eyes met mine and I opened my mouth to speak to her but she slightly shook her head and glanced in the direction of Issac and finally returned her attention to me.

“You need me to drive you to the house?” Issac turned to his sister.

“No. Glen’s coming.” As she turned to walk away, he scoffed, and dismissively waved his hand at her nonchalance towards him.

“Women.” He chuckled with a smug expression on his face. “I’ll see you around Dante. Have a safe trip back to the city man.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

My eyes followed Autumn as she hurriedly walked along and the churning of my stomach halted when she disappeared into the building.

or…maybe it’s nothing.

[darkscaleswriter]

I remember you as the one who wrote "Gotta Run Another Night". My favorite scenes are Galra!Keith choking on a rations bar and the one where he's using rigatoni as a straw. And then the tangent story where he blew something up and says to Red, "Catch!" I hope you write more to this AU because I love it!

Ahh, thank you!  People seem to really like the ration bar scene, haha.  I am still working on the next part of the series, so hopefully that will appear at some point once real life stops getting in the way

Anyway, I’m so glad you liked that fic!  It’s one of the works that I’m actually proud of, so I’m glad people like it.  ^.^

(Ask game is here!)