#who’s eating spaghetti for breakfast

[dan-crimes]

I gotta complain abt being a picky eater here for a sec cuz I'm lookin @ all this stuff on the breakfast menu and there's always the SAME ingredients in all these SAME food items and it would be SO much easier if I could just order food without having to think of all the stuff I DON'T want on my food cuz I always gotta put in so much effort to look into every single ingredient in every since food item that I order bcuz I DON'T LIKE MOST FOODS !!! SMHH !!

[froody]

in my hometown, which has a population around 1,000 people, there is only one restaurant that has managed to stay open for more than 10 years. every once in a while somebody will try to open another restaurant, there was a pretty good breakfast joint in the old general store for about 2 years, a bakery in the old gas station, a Mexican restaurant in the former wig store, these places never stay open. the culinary scene is so abominable in town that we even lost our McDonalds.

but anyway the only restaurant that stays open is the nastiest Italian restaurant in the state. it serves the worst, wettest, soggiest “New York style” pizza. the spaghetti sauce is like red water. the salads are bagged, the cannolis are freezer burnt and not thawed when served. and yet this place does not close and will not close. it is the only place to eat in town. I do not know if it’s a money laundering type thing or what. it’s the quintessential hometown Italian restaurant but nasty and founded, owned and operated by people who have absolutely no Italian heritage or idea of how to make the most simple of Italian American comfort dishes. BUT IT IS THE ONLY PLACE YOU CAN EAT!!!!! my dad has brought strangers home off the interstate to make them sandwiches so they don’t have to be subjected to it

[bellyasks]

menu for a restaurant that specializes in overstuffing its customers (aka a silly prompt list)

Ask your server about dietary accommodations. Each meal is made to order, substitutions and alternative ingredients are available! All meats may be replaced with plant-based alternatives upon request. (And pick a meal to feed your favorite character--if they can finish it, they get one dessert on the house!)

Breakfast (all orders come with a side of home fries, fresh fruit, or your choice of meat)

Full Stack of Pancakes - Emphasis on "full." Lucky seven big fluffy pancakes, each with a different additive of your choice.

Big Ol' Bagel - A hefty bagel the size of your plate, toasted to order and topped with whatever you'd like.

Ostrich Egg Omelette - Okay, not really, but this omelette is made with two dozen eggs--the equivalent of one ostrich egg--and filled with your choice of meat and veggies.

Loaf of French Toast - A dozen thick slices of French toast topped with whipped cream and fresh berries.

Plus Size Pork Roll - A classic pork roll egg & cheese on our signature giant bagel.

Lunch (all orders come with a side of chips or fries)

Peanut Butter & Jelly Belly - The biggest PB&J you've ever seen, slathered generously on a buttery toasted baguette.

Quadruple Decker Club Sandwich - Your choice of meat with mayo, lettuce, tomato, and bacon, heaped on between four slices of bread.

Piece-A Pizza - This slice is equivalent in size to an entire large pizza and covered with your choice of toppings. Perfect for people who are lying to themselves when they say they'll just have one piece.

Double Footlong - Two feet of classic Italian hoagie on a fresh-baked roll.

Stomach Stretcher - They say eating a head of lettuce is a great way to stretch your stomach out, and that's exactly what this giant salad will do. We bring you the lettuce, you take it to the salad bar and add the rest.

Dinner (all orders come with a side of rice, fries, baked or mashed potato, or a fresh vegetable medley unless marked *)

Sushi Bloat Boat - A sushi boat big enough for a full table, pricey to share but free for any one person who manages to finish it alone.

Box of Pasta - A full 16oz box of pasta (your choice of spaghetti, penne, or linguine) tossed in Alfredo, marinara, or a white wine sauce. Add your choice of meat for an extra $2.

Full Size Fish & Chips* - An entire 10-20lb cod (ask your server about choosing a fish) cleaned, battered, fried, and served with steak fries.

The Whole Farm* - A barbecue variety platter. Pulled pork, brisket, ribs, and chicken breast slathered in our signature sauce, with an ear of corn, baked beans, and coleslaw on the side.

Raised Steak - A 48oz grilled ribeye. Also available as an equivalent weight of seasoned and grilled portobello mushrooms.

Dessert

Paint Can - A creamy and colorful milkshake served in a one gallon paint can. See the ice cream counter for today's available flavors.

Loaf of Bread Pudding - Warm bread pudding made with an entire loaf of bread, topped with an optional scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Root Beer Bloat - A classic float with your choice of ice cream. The twist is that this dessert holds two liters of root beer and a portion of ice cream to match.

Burp-day Cake - A seven-layer slice of chocolate cake guaranteed to be the size of your head or it's free, topped with a thick crust of fizzy Pop Rocks.

Gobbler Cobbler - A pie-sized dish of peach, blueberry, or apple cobbler, topped with three optional scoops of vanilla ice cream.

[zilabee]

Tony Bramwell, on Yoko

- gradually, inch by inch she intruded into our lives

- It was hardly surprising that John felt some kind of electricity; but it was probably the air crackling with Yoko’s desperation

- If I were standing about with him, Yoko would come up to me and say something in her high little girl’s voice, perhaps hoping to get John to notice her [...]. John would walk off to talk to someone else, while she stared after him. In those days, Yoko was always staring after John.

- She wanted to possess John and she was the one who was exceptionally jealous. She could not cope with the fact that John could love three other guys.

- her piece de resistance, the much-reprised performance of “Cut Piece.”  The scissors were wired for sound, so every cut had a horrific, almost animal sound, like a beast crunching into its human prey.

- did Yoko do her hypnotism thing, as some of John’s friends thought she had, or did she have a powerful new drug in her arsenal? Nobody really believed that John fell in love overnight, because why hadn’t he done so before? He’d been kicking Yoko in and out of his life for over a year. Mostly, he had given the impression that he resented and despised her. [...] Perhaps it was that he really was mentally ill and like many schizoid personalities, got religious mania.

- Overnight, he no longer had a will of his own.

- ...an attempt to use Primal Scream Therapy under Arthur Janov by telephone, to free him from his heroin addiction...

- Sir Joe said he didn’t think the pictures were obscene, he had seen much worse, an opinion which confused John and Yoko. They wanted to be seen as avant-garde and enfants terribles.

- Yoko had no sense of humour at all and she loathed Phil as much as Phil hated her. Each of them was implacable and paranoid.

- I used to dread taking John and Yoko’s arty stuff into radio stations and asking them to play it. For me, it was a bad experience because it was unplayable and unlistenable. [...] The reaction was a bored, “Why are you bringing this crap to us?” At first I argued with radio producers about it, though not on a very artistic level. I even heard myself saying, “Because he pays my wages. That’s why!” It was so embarrassing.

- As far as Yoko was concerned, if you spout all this magical, healing, antiwar, be kind to everybody, all-seeing, all-caring, all-macrobiotic stuff, being pregnant on heroin would seem to be the last thing she would need. And how does all that stuff equate with shooting up smack? How does all that spiritual pontificating gel with the teaspoon and the needle, unless you’re a fraud?

- According to John, Yoko snorted [heroin], but I had no doubt that if she had used a needle, she would probably have said it was acupuncture.

- John used to like life. He used to like to get on a roll. Laugh, eat and drink. [...] proper breakfasts, an old-fashioned fry-up, pie and chips, fish and chips, fried chicken, a roast dinner on a Sunday, Chinese food, curry, spaghetti Bolognese. Everything. Then he met Yoko, grew his beard, and [...] from Irish navvy’s food, he went to heroin and macrobiotics. I think if Yoko had said it was spiritual to snort bean curd instead of eat it John would have done it.

- She and John used to whisper away in their corner, with a completely different, us-against-the-world perspective to everyone. I know they did, because filming quietly on the sidelines, I heard.

- Having discussed life and its ins and outs and meanings, and worked out that it all means nothing, John and Yoko didn’t want to, couldn’t possibly, give the edifice of the Beatles any credit, or indeed any respect.

- doubt set in because some critics and reviewers gave her favourable reviews in the press and on TV. You’d find yourself wondering if you were an intellectual failure, unable to spot the hidden value in Yoko’s art and music. [...] somehow it became important to judge Yoko as impartially as possible, mostly out of regard for John. The problem was we couldn’t accept that he could be so blinded.

- [Dan Richter] was a close confidant of [Yoko and Tony Cox]. He said he heard all their hopes and schemes to hook John, at first as a financial “angel,” then, with dawning excitement, as a lover.

- According to Dan, Tony Cox actively encouraged the affair between John and Yoko as a means of survival. He said that Cox would tell Yoko to “go get Lennon.” When John proved elusive, as he was at first, Cox told Yoko she wasn’t trying hard enough. For her part, when she saw how close she was to capturing their prey, Yoko told Dan that they’d soon be rich beyond their wildest dreams.

- Cox began to feel fragile, thinking he might get cut out. In all seriousness, he drew up an agreement that he insisted Yoko sign. This single-page document—which was drawn up and signed at Dan’s kitchen table—stated that when Yoko hooked John, they would split any cash she got from the endeavour.

[screaminglygay]

Kate Bishop headcanons

pairing: kate bishop x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: possibly bad grammar, swearing

an: here is little something, i´m kinda having hard time to write a full fic at the moment, but i hope i will get there eventually!

Kate Bishop hates mornings as much as you do, but she will wake up before you to make you your favorite breakfast.

Sometimes you argue about that, since she is still the one recovering from the mission. And you should be the one taking care of her.

She always chooses and buys some take out for you, since she knows you´re the worst at chosing what to eat and in return you always chose the movie or a show to watch later together.

"We´re both indecisive, but you chosing a movie and me chosing a food, sounds like the best compromise we could ever think off." She proudly states.

Kate who always makes sure you drink plenty of water during the day, because there was one time you almost passed out from not drinking a single glass.

"Ugh…" you sigh.

Kate´s eyes move from her phone to you, "you okay?"

You nod slowly, while closing your eyes, "my head just hurts."

She knows the answer to her question, but she still asks, "how many glasses of water did you drink today?" Her head tilting slightly, already knowing you will try to lie your way out of this. Like you always do.

"A few-" you open your eyes, the archer already looking at you with her eyebrow raised, "would be nice, if I had, but uh none. I didn´t drink any, but that´s not the caus-"

Kate is so used to your little water issue, so she just stand up and goes to the kitchen, pouring you a glass of water and then coming back. "Drink it and no buts."

If you didn´t know Kate, you would be imitaded, but you´re not, already planning some smart remark, but the headache starts to be real pain in the ass. So with defeat you take the glass and drink it.

"Good, you can thank me later." Kate smiles and goes to pour you some more.

"I don´t see the point, the only thing it makes me do is to go pee, not a better skin, not making the headache go away, I don´t feel fresh at all…" You mumble under your breath, while Kate just chuckles at your words.

After some time you feel better and you hate to admit it, but Kate notices, she always notice the small things about you.

"Feeling better?"

Teaching Lucky to find you, just so she can have an excuse to talk to you.

"Where is (Y/N)?" Kate asks looking at Lucky.

"Miss (Y/L/N) is in her own room at the moment." The A.I. voice speak up.

Kate just sighs, "thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y."

Sometimes Lucky is just full of Kate being a 'subtle' attention seeker.

When you two are cooking, it is always a disaster, not that you can´t cook, Wanda taught you something, but it is just too chaotic with Kate, that you are kinda banned to be in the kitchen together making something other than cereals.

"Wanda are you for real?" You look at the readhead putting a photo of you and Kate on the fridge with a big 'X' on it.

"It needs to be done, you two are horrible!" She looks at you.

"It was not my fault-" you try to argue, but there is no way you´re winning this fight.

Wanda cuts you off, "how do you start a fire, while making spaghetti?!"

You throw your hands up in a surrender, "I don´t know, ask Kate!"

Kate who is always taking your side, no matter what Pietro is arguying with you about.

"Pineapple is not bad on pizza," Pietro looks at you, annoyed.

"It is a crime. You don´t put blueberries on pizza either." You state your own thoughts.

"Oh my god, really?" Pietro throw his hands around.

"What do you think, Kate?" You look at her.

"I think (Y/N) is right, it is not the pizza I would choose." Kate chuckles.

"We ate pineapple pizza together, Bishop!" Pietro argues and you just look at Kate.

"I- yeah we did, but I still thinks there are way better pizzas in the world." Kate shrugs.

"See?" You look at Pietro.

"She said that there are better pizzas, not that it is a crime!" You don´t talk about pinaaapple pizza in the household anymore.

She insists that you walk Lucky with her because she's worried he might see a deer and run off. She definitely can't walk him alone since she's still 'recovering'.

You´re laying on the couch, watching whatever show is playing on the TV, you´re kinda existing, just taking a break on the Sunday afternoon. Not really planing on doing anything more than lay and relax.

Until Kate rushes in with Lucky, who jumps on you and licks your face.

You giggle, "hey buddy, hi, hi, hi," you pet his head.

"Come on," Kate says as Lucky jumps down from the couch, "you too, sleepyhead."

"Hm? Why?" You yawn.

"We´re going out, on a walk."

"Do we have to?" You groan.

Kate shrugs, "I was thinking you would join us, since Lucky is just hyperactive and I´m not really sure if I can hold him." And just like that, you´re up. Sometimes you´re listening better than Lucky does.

"I´ll just get my jacket," Kate gives you the jacket you were mentioning, "oh, thanks," you smile.

The whole time you we´re making sure Kate is feeling okay, in fact she was feeling just amazing and Lucky was happy that two of his favorite people are walking with him.

Kate who is always appearing in your room, because Yelena taught her so, when she´s bored.

After a long day of training with Natasha you finally come to your room, throwing your stuff on the chair, but missing.

"That was a shitty throw," you hear Kate says.

"Oh my god!" You jump at the sudden voice, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

"Jesus christ…" you shake your head.

"Nope, just me," she smiles.

You look at her, rolling your eyes.

"That´s all the exitement I will get from you?"

"I saw you this morning," you take the workout clothes that are on the ground and put them on the chair.

"Yeah, that was twelve hours ago…" Kate pouts.

You look at her once more, "weren´t you supposed to do some paperwork?"

"All done," she smiles proudly, "but then I got bored so I went to see you."

"And how long ago that was?"

"4 hours ago…"

"You were waiting here for four hours? Wouldn´t be easier to go to the gym and find me?" You´re trying to understand the achers thought proces.

"Maybe, but I wanted to see if I can use what Yelena taught me… sneak in and attack, both worked." She says while moving her hands, probably to gesture the attack.

You nod, still not really understadning what´s going on right now, "well I keep my doors unlocked all the time, so that was not that hard, Katie. And I would never in my dreams thought about you waiting here for me for four hours, so yeah, the 'attack' worked." You admit to her.

"Not even in your dreams? Damn." Ugh, how you hated when she did that, this friendly flirting, it was kinda killing you, but it was on the daily basis for her.

You and her both are always rambling about something you are passionate about and the other one is always listening, no matter how obscure the topic is.

"So I dowlanded this app, and it tracks your steps and it shows you how long it would take you to go to the Mordor. And it is really cool, like it shows you all this achivements and you have your own character." You open your phone to show Kate the app.

"Wow, that is really nice. So how long will it take you?" Kate asks looking back at you.

"Well, since this week I was just walking Lucky or laying on my ass it says…" you look at the date, "I´ll be there in July 17th"

Kate hums, "that´s good."

"2025," you add.

"Oh… is it that far away?"

"I think Frodo was there in 183 days, but he was walking all day everyday, or running and since I don´t really have to save the world I´m not in a big rush." You giggle, "did you know that even though Frodo was the hero who saved the Middle-Earth, Hobbits were actually hunted for fun?"

"I didn´t know that, no." Kate shakes her head.

"It is so fascinating to me that this world has sooo much to offer like, few weeks ago I read a book about all the battles and wars there´s been." And there goes your ramble.

"You never told me your favorite character." Kate smiles as she notices your eyes sparkling with exitement.

"That is a tough one, I can´t really say the top one, because that is just impossible, but I really do like the whole trio of Aragon, Gimli and Legolas…" as you start to ramble Kate obviously gets lost a bit, but it is nice to see you talk about stuff you love.

And the same goes all the other way around.

"(Y/N)! Look!" Kate shows you the new arrows she made with Clint.

"Oh, that is very nice!" You smile as you take on in your hand, "and it´s light, how did you make it so light?"

"It is! First, I started with high-quality carbon shafts because they're super strong and lightweight. Then, I carefully attached the fletchings – those are the feathers at the back to ensure they stabilize the arrow in flight. Then I used a jig to make sure they're perfectly aligned. For the tips, I have a variety of arrowheads, depending on what I need broadheads for hunting, blunted tips for practice, and even some trick arrows with special gadgets."

"So what´s the difference between this one and the one you showed me last week?"

"Oh, good question!" Kate nods. "Last week's arrow was designed for target practice, so it had a simple field point tip and plastic fletchings for durability. This one, though, is a trick arrow… I've added a grappling hook mechanism inside the shaft! The fletchings are a bit more aerodynamic too, made from real feathers for smoother flight. Plus, the nock has a small LED light that activates when it's shot, making it perfect for night missions."

She is always suportive of you, until the whole team is having a game night. Kate can turn into someone sooo competitive and it is just someone else.

"UNO baby!" Pietro yells as he places red one on the table.

That didn´t last long, Wanda put +2 and then Kate did, you did, Yelena did and Pietro had to take 8 cards, which made Pietro almost lose it.

Now it is your turn, "UNO, thank you very much," you put down blue seven. No one has another blue, which is just perfect for you, since your last card is blue six, you are already preparing some winning speech, but then Kate steps in and places +4.

Kate smiles at you, "thank you very much," she mocks you.

And then another round comes and she gives you another +4.

"Can you stop?" You look at her, being slightly frustrated.

"Game is a game, (Y/N)." She shrugs.

The game night ends with Wanda and Yelena laughing, Pietro almost crying, you having 26 cards and Kate winning.

Doing silly quizzes together, you found on the internet. Are you a spoon or a fork?

"You are a definetly a spoon." Kate mumbles as she clicks on some answer on her phone.

"What makes you say that?" You look at her.

"You´re small, cute and you wouldn´t hurt anyone," she says without missing a beat.

"None of that is true… I´m not that small and I could hurt someone."

"I´m taller than you, so yes, you´re small. And you cannot hurt someone." Her bright eyes finally looks into yours.

"Im an Avenger, I have to hurt someone." You are a bit offended.

"Yeah, but like a spoon, you won´t do much damage. Not because you´re weak, but because you choose not to."

"You can poke someone's eye out with spoon though."

Kate nods, "but you only do it in a case of emergency…"

"Who would choose a fork as a weapon?" Kate chuckles at your words.

"That is not the point, (Y/N)."

It turns out, you are really a spoon and she is a fork, but to this day you still have zero idea what it really means. It is still a stupid quizz online at the end of the day.

Showing eachother things that reminded you of eachother.

"I got something for you…" Kate says as she unclips Lucky´s leash.

"You got something for me?" You smile and close your book.

"Yup, now close your eyes and give me your hand." She was outisde so you can feel how cold her hand is, it sends small shivers down your body.

Kate places something small in your hand, it is also cold, you can´t really guess what it is, "open."

When you open your eyes, you look down on your hand, only to find a tiny coffee mug.

You let out a chuckle, "that is so adorable!"

"Tiny mug for an even tinier person." Kate chuckles, "and look inside."

"No way!" In the bottom of the mug, there is small frog painted, it is so tiny you wouldn´t really noticed it is in there.

Her teaching you how to use bow and you being not so perfect at it.

"I though this would be much easier," you say when you have problem to even draw an arrow.

"You need to just take a deep breath and concetnrate on the red dot over there, okay?" Kate whispers while being really close to you, which is not helping.

And you missed again.

"Not bad, at least you released the arrow," she tries to comfort you.

You sigh, "why does it look so easy, it looks so cool, when Katniss is doing it."

Kate´s eyebrow raise, "like Everdeen?"

"You know any other archer who´s name is Katniss?" You turn to face Kate.

"No, but I know better archer than her… me maybe?" You notice that Kate´s posture straightens. She looks offended.

You chuckle and nod, "right, well… I think that Katniss would teach me how to shoot the arrow properly, or at least hit the target." You tease, knowing what will happen.

"Like I can´t do that? Pfff, turn around." Her hands slides on your waist, making your body face the target. Kate taps on your thigh for you to move your leg slightly. "Be straight," that's easier said than done. "And keep your shoulders and your whole back in one line, don´t be too forward or too backwards," she mumbles and her hands slide on your lower back. "Just like that and when you´re feeling ready, just draw the arrow, take a deep breath, release the arrow and exhale."

You did what she told you to, it turns out that listening orders from women is kinda your strenght, and when you released the arrow, it didn´t really hit the middle, but it defiently did hit the target.

"Oh my god! It went over there!" You jump with happiness, "I did it!"

"Yeah you did, that was a good shot." She smirks, "so is Katniss still better archer than me?"

Thank you for reading! <3

[irisintheafterglow]

Just Wanna Keep Calling Your Name (gojo x you)

summary: you check on megumi and yuuji before they begin their mission to find tengen and unseal the honored one.

wc: 1.8k

cw/tags: angst/comfort with hopeful ending, swearing, mentions of eating and food, just sad separated found family things

note: part 3/4 of my "i don't wanna live forever" little series. yeah writing this made me so sad i just wanna tell them it'll be okay and this shit hasn't even been ANIMATED yet

likes/reblogs/feedback is appreciated <3

In any other circumstance, he’d be pushing you away in exaggerated melodrama because of how tightly you’re constricting him. He’d gently wiggle from your grip, saying something about you embarrassing him or that he wasn’t a kid who needed hugs anymore. You’d frown a little bit, staring at him in disappointment until he huffed in surrender and squeezed you even tighter. After a few moments, Satoru would inevitably come over and create a “Megumi-sandwich,” wrapping his lanky arms around both of your bodies and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Sometimes, Yuuji would catch wind of the affection and race over, tackling all three of you to the ground until you were in one familial heap. Satoru would take your hands and help you off the floor just to pull you to his lips. Yuuji would coo fondly at the show of affection while Megumi made a gagging gesture with his finger. In any other circumstance, it would be a perfectly normal hug. 

But, these were not normal circumstances. 

Because they weren’t normal circumstances, you weren’t able to utter a word before Megumi’s arms were shakily wound around your body, hiding his face in your shoulder and trembling. You catch Yuuji’s ashamed gaze from inside Megumi’s dorm and reach out your hand, which he takes and pulls both you and Megs closer to him. As much as you like to remind yourself that they’re capable of holding their own as sorcerers, you couldn’t ignore the reality that the Shibuya incident was not something that seasoned sorcerers should have experienced, much less two teenagers. With Panda, Inumaki, and Nobara in grave condition and Nanami soulless in the morgue downstairs, you were truly the only family the two boys had left. You never allow your mind to drift to Satoru. 

“Eat, Megs. Please.” You set the bowl of ginger chicken in front of him, his favorite ever since he was little. You silently thanked past you for putting frozen containers of ginger chicken and spaghetti in the teacher’s lounge freezer, which you picked up on your way to check on the boys. The picture in front of you was tragically familiar–Megumi on his bed with a bowl of ginger chicken and his stuffed wolf in his lap. You couldn’t guess the last time the two ate, but it must have been quite a long time from how quickly Yuuji scarfed down the first bowl of spaghetti. The second tub of spaghetti is still warm, thankfully, and you slide the bowl over to him in understanding. Megumi, on the other hand, simply stared off into space, the enticing steam of the food unable to pierce his broken exterior. “I’m gonna take the wolf back if you don’t eat.” His eyes are dark and dangerous when they flick up to you, the same look he gave you for the past however many years you’d been using that threat. Despite its age, you’re surprised to find that it still works as he finally takes a bite of food. “Thank you.”

“When’s the last time you ate?” 

“This morning. I had breakfast with Shoko.” You also tried one of her cigarettes again and hated them just as much as the first time. She’d poured a few shots for you before work to make it up to you.

“Coffee doesn’t count as breakfast,” Megumi deadpans and your first impulse is to laugh. But, you can’t stop the memory that breaks loose and it slams into you like a freight train. 

He was giving you that odd look again, something between the lines of skeptical and adoration. You stick your tongue out at him in defiance and his hand finds yours from the driver’s seat of the car. It was an early morning mission and you argued that you deserved a treat after dragging him out of bed. To Ijichi’s annoyance, Satoru stops at a grocery store, running in to grab you a muffin and scolding you for not having enough fuel for the day. He kissed you so fervently when he returned to the car, like you were going to disappear in his absence. He said he could taste the coffee on your lips and that you didn’t make it right; when you looked at him with an offended expression, he shrugged and said he made you the best coffee. You’d never admit it, but he was right. 

“I-I had a muffin, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice still comes out as a choke and Megumi’s face falls guiltily. He knows exactly what his words had accidentally triggered. “I split it with Shoko.” You take his hand while he avoids your eyes, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles reassuringly. “Eat, Megs. It’s okay.” 

“Did the higher-ups really confine you to the school?” Yuuji asks after he’s finished the second tub of spaghetti. “I heard…some things about you and it made me nervous.”

You hum in assent. “Well, I’m still alive. There’s no way I’d let them kill me before checking on you two.” The words are meant to be reassuring but aren't received that way as their heads both snap to look at you in alarm. “Yeah, no point in lying. We talked about it, before everything happened. I know he didn’t say anything about it because he didn’t want to worry you, but we discussed what would happen in his…absence.” 

“Have they sent anyone yet?” Megumi’s voice is low and threatening but you knew the warning wasn’t directed toward you. 

“No, but I also know they haven’t sent anyone after Yuuji either, right?” They nod but still eye you warily. You give them a weak smile in an attempt to ease their worries. “So, that means the brass is still such a shit-show that they can’t dispatch sorcerers to apprehend Satoru’s associates. We have time, but not a lot of it.” 

“We have a plan. Or, at least, the beginnings of one. To get him back,” Yuuji says carefully, each word delicate like you were a grenade on the verge of exploding. Your walls go up immediately, shutting down to prevent the storm of emotions that welled up at the optimistic hope in his words. “We’re going to unseal him.” The sentence goes in one ear and out of the other; you can tell by their expressions that your eyes have gone empty and blank. It wasn’t anything against them. You just couldn’t handle thinking about him too much, lest you truly break down. 

“Okay. Try your best.” Your smile is pained and forced, but you still nod in weak encouragement. Megumi’s eyebrows suddenly furrow in thought, like he’d remembered something important. “What is it, Megs?”

“Who is Toji?”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru, Satoru please. Satoru, please look at me,” your voice cracks into broken cries while your hands frantically shake his shoulders, willing him to wake up. “Baby, I need you to look at me, please. Satoru, please, baby. Please, I can’t–” You can’t breathe. The words are getting caught in your throat and staying there. Every inhale tastes like blood and every exhale emphasizes your boyfriend’s lack of a pulse. “I can’t get to Suguru, Satoru. I can’t get to Suguru and he needs you. I need you. I need you, please. Please, wake up.” The tiniest bit of movement catches your eye and you stare in amazement at his hand, drenched in a pool of his own blood, twitching and violently blazing Cursed Energy. “There you are, baby. Come back to me.” 

“He was a sorcerer from the Zenin clan. Why do you ask?” 

“Was?” Megumi echoes, and it’s your turn to mirror his confused expression. “Like, he’s dead?”

“Yeah, he’s been dead for over a decade. Again, why do you ask?”

“There was a guy that Naobito called ‘Toji’ in Shibuya with us. He had no Cursed Energy but was stronger than the special-grades we were fighting.” Dread drops into your stomach like a dead weight. Fushiguro Toji coming back from the dead was the last fucking thing you needed. 

“Is the man still alive?”

“No, and that’s what I’m curious about. He asked me what my last name was and then killed himself when I said ‘Fushiguro.’ He could have killed me, but he didn’t. I just want to know if I have any kind of connection to that man.” 

“I see.” You felt guilty for lying to the boy’s face, but you also recognized that it was Satoru’s decision alone if he wanted to tell Megumi about his family history. “I’m not sure, then. I’m sorry.” He nods, face taut in suppressed disappointment and you rush to change the subject. You could feel time passing too quickly, the instinctual feeling that they had to keep moving hanging over your head. “I read about your fight with Awasaka in the report. Thank you for taking care of each other and taking care of yourselves.” You didn’t mean to strike a nerve, but your chest aches when they simultaneously dart their faces away, contorting in quiet agony. 

“He killed thousands using my body,” Yuuji hisses, squeezing his eyes closed to shut out the memory. “I don’t deserve gratitude for my survival–”

“Stop. Don’t tell me that I can’t be grateful you survived,” you state firmly and you feel emotions start to well up in your eyes again for the first time in hours. All three of you have tears quietly streaming down your cheeks; you have no more energy for the hiccuping and gasping-type of sobs that wracked your body days earlier. “You’re alive to keep fighting, so please recognize that as important.” 

“Would you ever marry me, Satoru?”

He looks at you like you’d just suggested cliff diving into sharp rocks. “Of course. Once all this shit is sorted out with Sukuna and I reform Jujutsu Society, we’ll have a rager wedding.”

You scoff in disbelief. “You want to have a rager wedding?”

“Was that not what you had in mind?”

“Mmm…no. I was thinking something small, you know, with Yuuji and Megs and Nanami and Shoko and the rest of your students. Save your strobe lights and fog machines for the bachelor party.” You both know damn well Nanami would never set foot in a club with Satoru, but it was still a funny image for the mind. 

“You want to involve my students in our wedding?”

“I thought that was self-explanatory. You care about them, I care about you, so I automatically care about them. Whatever you would do for your students, I would too.”

“I’d pull down the planets for you, you know.”

“Just the planets? You must not love me that much tonight.” His eyes shine in the moonlight as he rubs his nose against yours. “Break up with me now and put me out of my misery.”

“You underestimate my abilities, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. I’d pull down every planet in the entire universe for you if you asked, not just the ones in this solar system.”

“There’s my sappy Satoru.”

“I’m yours forever.”

“Do your best, okay?” You say before Megumi and Yuuji leave to find Master Tengen, leaving you alone in Megumi’s dorm. Reaching over for his stuffed wolf, you summon a portal and store it in your domain for safe-keeping. You’d give it to him when you were all together again, your boys and your boyfriend. 

I’m yours forever.

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you’re in the hive, the other bees assume you’re supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Chapter 6: Baiting the Trap

Wordcount: 1.8K

~~~~

Virgil is woken by his alarm and has never once in his entire life been less interested in getting out of bed.

He's comfortable. The bed is soft, the blankets are warm, and Virgil is sleepy and wants nothing more than to just lie here forever.

He snoozes the alarm and drifts back off.

Five minutes later, of course, he's dragged back out of sleep by the insistent melody.

Virgil seriously considers quitting his job so he doesn't have to ever leave this bed, but he does actually need money to buy groceries and pay his rent, and also his hosts have been real gracious but even their patience would surely wear thin if Virgil never left.

So, regrettably, Virgil sits up. He yawns. He longingly contemplates lying back down, but forces himself instead to get out of bed.

At some point in the night, someone—Patton, presumably—had returned his cleaned clothes, which are now sitting folded on the floor by the foot of the bed. Virgil dresses. He folds the borrowed pajamas and sets them on the foot of the bed. He doesn't usually fold his pajamas, but it seems like the polite thing to do in this case. After a moment, he makes the bed too.

And then he goes downstairs.

They're all in the dining room again, and they give him breakfast, and this time he's calm enough to appreciate it.

Princey drives him to work, and he has an otherwise normal day. He borrows a clean apron, and he makes a lot of coffee. He eats lunch at the shop, he takes the bus home, he has leftover spaghetti for dinner, and he does that load of laundry.

His bed seems even harder and lumpier than usual, contrasted with the memory of the bed—no, the actual literal cotton candy cloud—he'd slept on last night.

At least it makes it easier to get out of bed in the morning, when staying isn't bliss. If only by a little. Virgil is not and has never been a morning person. Still, he manages to actually catch the bus for the first time this week, so that's good.

Their newbie’s here for her second day of training, which means that Virgil splits his time between his usual duties and showing her the ropes. She's wary of the fancy coffee machines, and looks attentive but intimidated when Virgil walks her through one of the more simple brews.

She does better with the register. Its layout is also unfamiliar, but at least the potential worst-case consequences of pressing the wrong button are much less severe than “breaking an expensive machine” or “third degree burns and coffee everywhere.”

Several hours into Virgil’s shift, his manager joins him in the back while he's on break.

“There's someone out front looking for you,” Morgan tells him.

“Who?” Virgil asks.

“Nobody I recognized,” Morgan says with a bit of a frown. “Said he was a friend of yours though.”

“Did he give you a name?” Virgil asks, and Morgan's frown deepens.

“No, and I asked,” she says. “I said to him, ‘and you are?’ and he said ‘oh I'm roamin’ like that's an answer, so I prompts him, ‘yer name?’ and he just says ‘yeah’. So seeing as he's decided to just be evasive I told him he could order something or he could leave, but he couldn't hold up the line any longer, so he bought a coffee. Paid in cash, too, so I didn't get to see his name on the card neither.”

“He said he was roaming?” Virgil asks, gears turning.

“Yeah, ’cept he ain't, he sat down with his coffee,” Morgan answers.

“Brown hair?” Virgil asks, fighting back a rising laugh. “Maybe bout this tall, looks a bit like Remus if he ever shaved and combed his hair?”

Morgan nods. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”

Virgil pinches his lips together and shakes his head. Morgan squints at him.

“And what exactly is so funny?” she asks.

The laugh spills out of him. “Sor– sorry, Morgue,” he says. “I think you misheard him. His name’s Roman.”

“What, like Greeks and Romans?”

“I think so,” Virgil says, still grinning. “He's Remus’s brother.”

“I see,” Morgan says. “Well, if you don't want me to get rid of him, do you want to talk to him, or stay back here til he leaves? Lexi and I can handle the customers for a while yet if you don't wanna see him.”

“Nah, I'll go see what he wants.”

Roman is sitting in one of the booths, sipping a coffee and staring dramatically out the window. He turns as Virgil approaches, and then perks up. “Finding Emo!” he says. “Your coworkers said they had never heard of you in their lives. I was starting to think I’d gone to the wrong coffee shop.”

“Nah, just being protective,” Virgil says, sliding into the booth across the table from Roman. “We don’t give that kind of information to customers.” They’d had problems with stalkers trying to get information on employees before, and one bewildering man who’d kept coming round looking for someone Virgil had genuinely never heard of, til Morgan banned him from the shop. “What’s up?”

“So we realized your bike is still at our house,” Roman says. “I wanted to see if you’d like a ride over to get it back. Also if you would be interested in watching more Unfortunate Events, because we left off at a really climactic bit, and I know I already know what happens next, but I want to know what happens next, you know?”

“I definitely want my bike back,” Virgil says. He glances at the clock. “I don’t get off for a while yet today, but if you want to come back around five?”

Roman nods. “And movies?” he asks eagerly.

“Maybe just a little bit,” Virgil says. “I don’t want to bike home in the dark.”

“Oh of course,” Roman says. “I'd never force you to do that.”

Virgil glances back toward Morgan and Lexi at the counter. They’re busy with customers, but the line isn’t very long. Lexi catches his glance and grins at him with a little wave.

“Do you need to get back to work?” Roman asks.

“Not yet,” Virgil decides, settling more comfortably into his seat. “I’ve got a few minutes left before my break ends.”

~

Roman returns just before five, as Virgil’s getting ready to hand off the machines to the next shift. He orders three coffees to go “and whatever Virgil would like,” with a wink in Virgil’s direction.

Virgil rolls his eyes and makes himself a hot chocolate, which he sips on the drive back to Roman’s house. The sun is already dipping toward the horizon, so it looks like there isn't going to be time for tv before he has to bike home. It's a shame, because he really was looking forward to it.

“We’re home!” Roman calls as he opens the door from the garage into the rest of the house to lead Virgil in. As they cross the threshold, Virgil is hit with a nearly tangible wall of scent, stopping him in his tracks. The air smells rich and warm and delicious. He can smell fresh bread, and roasted meat, and something sweet, all mingled together into a tantalizing aroma that makes his mouth water and his stomach perk up eagerly.

“Oh good!” someone Virgil can’t see calls back. “Great timing!”

Roman pulls his jacket off and hangs it on a hook by the door. “It smells great in here!” he says brightly, heading deeper into the house. Virgil manages to unglue his feet from the floor and finally closes the door behind himself and follows Roman.

Calico is putting a steaming dish onto the table when they enter the dining room. “Welcome home,” he says fondly. “Dinner's just about ready.”

“Oh good, I'm hungry,” Roman says. “It smells fabulous, darling.”

Calico beams, eyes scrunching up with it. “Thank you,” he says.

“We brought coffee,” Roman adds, and hands Patton one of the to-go cups. “Your Chemical Romance made this just for you.”

“Aww,” Patton says, smiling heart-meltingly at Virgil. “Thank you.”

Virgil finger-guns awkwardly back at him with his free hand. “No problem.” Making coffee is literally his job. Roman was the one who had paid for it, and picked the flavor.

Then Patton notices what Virgil had put on the side of the cup instead of his name. “Aww!” he exclaims. “You drew me a kitty!”

“Yeah, I figured– you like cats, right?”

Patton looks up at him with shining eyes. “That is paws-itively precious. Thank you so much!”

“Please do not keep the empty cup just because there is a cute cat on it,” Logan says. Roman hands him his own coffee, on which Virgil had drawn a robot face and a triangle science beaker. “Thank you. We do not need additional clutter in our home, Patton.”

Patton pouts at him. “But look, it's so sweet!” he says. “Look at this precious little kitten drawn specifically for me and tell me that you want to throw her in the trash!”

Logan sighs. “At least cut the picture out of the cup instead of keeping the entire thing,” he says.

“Deal!” Patton agrees cheerfully.

“Sorry,” Virgil says. He had not expected Calico to appreciate the art to quite that extreme. He might've put more effort into it if he had.

“No need,” Logan replies. “This is hardly the first time something like this has occurred, and I hold no illusions that it will be the last.”

“Sure won't!” Patton agrees shamelessly.

“Um, so where's my bike at?” Virgil asks after a moment.

“By the door still,” Roman says, taking a seat at the table. “Do you wanna sit next to me again?”

Virgil just now notices that the table is set with four plates. “You… want me to stay for dinner?” he asks hesitantly.

“Of course,” Roman says, now looking puzzled himself. “Why would I bring you to dinner and then not want you to stay and eat?”

They hadn't discussed him coming to dinner. They had planned for him to retrieve his bike, and perhaps watch tv with Roman, but the topic of dinner hadn't come up.

Virgil means to say no, that he had better get going, but it does smell so very good, and they did set a spot for him, and he is hungry, and if he goes home now he'll have to figure out some other meal and honestly it's not going to be anything fancier than frozen pizza and fries, or maybe just ramen since that would be faster.

“Okay,” Virgil says, and sits next to Roman.

~~~~

Chapter 7: How They Kept Him Very Well

[aidaronan]

That mug post going around just has me imagining quiet(ish) weekend mornings at the Munson trailer.

During the work/school week, Uncle Wayne stays up after he gets home from the night shift. Like a good chunk of teenagers with ADHD, Eddie stays up too late and, as a result, has never met an alarm he can't sleep through. So Wayne makes sure he gets his boy up so he won't miss school.

Wayne has to eat anyway, so it's nothing for him to also make sure Eddie has a good breakfast, even if it's sometimes a bit non-traditional. Eddie never complains if he's handed a bowl of spaghetti, and Wayne doesn't exactly hate occasionally having bacon and pancakes for "dinner." On the weekends, things are slightly less chaotic. If Eddie is home, Wayne gives him an extra hour or so to sleep in. He knows from trial and error that if Eddie doesn't keep a consistent schedule 90% of the time, things get ugly. Plus, Eddie likes being up for the cartoons.

The result is a routine of its own. On Saturday mornings, Wayne brews a small pot of decaf coffee for himself. It's enough for two cups, so he drinks one from one of his many Garfield mugs, then starts a small pot of regular coffee as soon as he pours the second. Wayne wakes Eddie right when that pot is done, ventures out to get the morning paper, then cracks it open. He reads it from beginning to end while Eddie rummages around, fixing his own coffee in his favorite Star Wars mug, loading it with enough sugar to start a candy factory.

Wayne usually stays quiet until Eddie's fully awake, but he pipes up every now and then to fill Eddie in on something important. "Looks like someone's selling a Marshall amplifier." Wayne doesn't cook on the weekends, so Eddie is halfway into the freezer on the hunt for blueberry waffles when Wayne chuckles. "What?" Eddie yawns, holding a vigil over the toaster, syrup bottle at the ready. "Oh, it's just the funny pages. That Garfield again. Cat's got his whole head stuck in a water glass." Eddie sits down across from him and toasts him with his coffee. In an hour or so, Wayne will go to bed. He'll put in ear plugs so Eddie can watch his favorite cartoons, sitting cross-legged on the floor like he's still the boy who used to visit, like he's still the boy who showed up five years back with buzzed hair and fear in his eyes.

That's later though. For the time being, Wayne folds the newspaper and picks up a pencil. "Hmm. Six letters, home to Norse Gods." Eddie chews and swallows faster than a dog given a pork chop just so he can blurt out, "Asgard! It's Asgard."

Wayne smiles and writes it down with care. He holds no illusions. He knows life could be better. He also knows it could be much worse. After all, he reads the papers. Besides, sitting with his boy on an easy Saturday morning, well...

How could he not think that life is plenty fine?

[five-miles-over]

For All Time, It Was Always You

Chapter 2: Mrs. Laufeyson

A/N: Thank you everyone for all of your positive comments! I really appreciate it, and hope you'll like this little continuation from the suburbs AU inspired partly by Wandavision.

Summary: After Loki leaves for work, you explore your new house and try to fit in with this world that feels too perfect to be real.

Pairing: Loki x Wife!Reader

Warnings: None really. Talk about 'traditional' gender roles. A surprise cameo. And silliness.

You waved goodbye, standing at the doorway as a black Chevrolet Bel Air departed from the house with Loki in the driver's seat. And like the doting wife that he thought you were, you blew a kiss in his direction.

When the car disappeared from your line of sight, you meandered into the sea green kitchen and filled a steel kettle with water, letting it sit on the stove the way a hen sat on her eggs. While the kettle grew hot, you searched the cabinets for tea bags,…and anything else that might help you understand this new, suburban world. A world in which you were the newlywed wife of a TVA employee who shared a name with the Norse God of Mischief. 

Next to a box of Earl Grey Tea was an entire section of the cabinet dedicated to biscuits of various brands and flavors: chocolate Hobnobs, Jaffa cakes, McVitie's digestive biscuits, shortbread, Bourbon cookies, and Oreos. At least three, unopened tubes of Oreo cookies. Were all of these sweet treats for you, or for your - you couldn't believe you were actually using this word - husband?

With a shrug, you grabbed a tube of the Oreo cookies, ripped it open and started eating them one by one. Holding the blue wrapper in one hand, you continued searching through the other kitchen cabinets. 

You found nothing but flour, brown sugar, white sugar, spices, marmite, extra virgin olive oil…, and two jars of strawberry jam from the same brand for some reason. And then, something next to a box of spaghetti caught your eye. A cookbook, with various pages dog-eared, titled Delicious Recipes For All Time, Always.

You blinked, carefully taking the book from the shelf. For All Time, Always? That's a weird title to call a cookbook…, a vague title as well. Inside the cover was a handwritten note, scribbled in blue pen.

The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Congratulations on the wedding, Mrs. Laufeyson! Loki's a lucky guy.

-Mobius M. Mobius

So that's who Loki was talking about at breakfast. He mentioned cancelling plans with someone named 'Mobius'. Someone who was making him watch tedious videos at work today. 

Jumping to the dog-eared pages of the cookbook, you came across various recipes: poached eggs, blueberry pancakes, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti bolognese, green bean casserole, Cumberbatch pie, curried chickpeas in coconut milk, angel food cake with strawberries and cream, chocolate mayonnaise cake…

Whiiiiiiieeee!

You whipped your head over your shoulder and immediately silenced the kettle's whistle, turning off the stove. Damnit, you went looking for tea bags and found yourself exploring everything except tea bags. Shaking your head, you shoved an Oreo into your mouth and opened the box of Earl Grey tea bags. 

Then, you opened a cabinet filled with plates, bowls, and cups, grabbing a white ceramic mug for your tea bag. On the top shelf of the cabinet was a pastel blue gift box. While the tea bag steeped in hot water, you reached for the box using a chair as a makeshift stepping stool. Inside the gift box were two mugs labeled 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.' in gold calligraphy And like the cookbook, there was a handwritten note as well. 

For all the mornings you'll have together. Congratulations to you both, Mr. and Mrs. Laufeyson! May the years ahead be filled with lasting love and happiness.

-Jeremy, Joyce, and Bill Hazeldine

With a gasp, you quickly closed the box and put it back on the shelf…only to open the box, taking another peek at the note. Mrs. Laufeyson...you underlined those words with your fingertip. Taking a deep breath, you put the box back on the shelf for good, promising to never use those mugs unless you were with Loki. 

By this point, the tea was hot enough to be enjoyed but not scalding that it would burn your throat. You took a sip, relaxing in its warmth, holding the mug with both hands. "Mrs. Laufeyson", you repeated to yourself. You looked down at your left hand, the emerald ring still on your middle finger just the same way it was this morning. 

After you finished drinking your tea and scarfing down the rest of the Oreo cookies in the container, you wandered into the living room. It was just across from the kitchen, a pastel yellow room with white bookshelves containing all kinds of hardcover and paper cover works. One would probably need an entire decade just to finish reading all the books kept inside the living room. You tilted your head and wondered which of the books were your husband's choice. But before you could sit down on one of the couches, you heard the doorbell ring.

"Who is it?" You asked, fixing your hair. 

A light, female voice came from outside. "It's Joyce!" As you made your way to the front door, you caught a glimpse of yourself in mirror hanging in the hallway. Your hair was miraculously styled, and you were wearing a cute set of pajamas…It almost made you stand still for a moment just so you could admire how desirable you looked. No wonder your husband was so lovey-dovey this morning.

The doorbell rang again. Putting on your best smile, you dragged your feet towards the door and opened it. 

Standing outside was a thin, middle-aged woman -presumably Joyce - with a bowl cut hairstyle, wearing a light blue shirt and straight-leg jeans. "Oh hello, dear. So good to see you again!" She gave you a warm smile and a hug, rocking you in her arms.

"Good to see you too, Joyce." You politely reciprocated her hug and let out a small laugh. "Thank you again for the mugs, they're lovely."

Joyce placed her hands on your arms for a moment, looking up at you. "I haven't seen you both since you came back from your honeymoon. Oh, look at you…" She marveled, "Married life seems to be treating you well."

"Thank you so much," you looked down, deciding to be as demure as possible, hoping they wouldn't ask too many questions about the honeymoon. "I…I couldn't be happier, Loki is so sweet to me." When your eyes met Joyce's, you touched the back of your neck. "I…He makes me feel like the luckiest lady in the world, Joyce."

Joyce quietly laughed with you. "You remember my son Bill, right?" Towering over Joyce was a lanky teenage boy with golden curls, blue eyes, and the face of an angel. He wore a grey t-shirt, worn-out jeans, and beat-up sneakers. 

You reached out to shake his hand. "Of course I do," you lied. "Hi, Bill."

"Afternoon, Mrs. Laufeyson." Bill greeted you with a smile that could make London light up during a blackout. "Congratulations again."

"Thank you." You placed your left hand on your heart, showing off your wedding ring just a little. "How are you, Bill?"

"I'm alright, thank you." Bill nodded. "I've been working with the church, teaching Sunday school. Thought it'd be a nice way to spend my summer after my first year of college."

"That's very thoughtful of you."

"Thank you. I thought it would be good for my theology course to do something like that," Bill admitted before reaching into one of his jean pockets, procuring a small blue velvet box. "Actually, I have something for you, Mrs. Laufeyson." 

You covered your mouth in disbelief. "Oh, Bill…"

"Please, take it." He extended the box to you. "I bought it for my former-girlfriend Jewel." Blinking, you gingerly accepted it, running your finger along the lid. "Former girlfriend…You broke up with her?"

Joyce intervened, "He had to do it, dear. She was nothing but trouble."

"I'm so sorry."

 "No, I'm sorry." Bill shook his head. "I bought it for her a long time ago, but I suppose it was never meant to last. But, I really want to give it to someone. Please, consider it a belated wedding gift, Mrs. Laufeyson."

You smiled, opening the box to find a sterling silver bracelet. Simple, yet elegant. "Thank you, Bill. I'll treasure it. If you ever want to talk, or just stop by for some tea, the door will always be open for you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Laufeyson," he graciously said. "And I hope Jewel finds someone else who'll make her happy."

The three of you stood quietly outside your house before you spoke up. "Joyce, would you and Bill like to come inside for some tea?"

"Not today, dear. I'm so sorry, Bill's coming with me to do some errands. And I'm sure you might need to catch up on some sleep after such a busy honeymoon." Joyce teased you a little with the last bit. "Might only be a matter of time before you and Loki get a visit from the stork."

You laughed, looking down again. You remembered how Loki hugged you from behind this morning and teased you with the idea of "finishing what you started on the honeymoon". Almost instinctively, your free hand rested on your stomach.

"We should have dinner sometime, Loki and I would love to have you over, we can catch up," you blurted. Joyce enthusiastically agreed and said she and her husband would love that.

"Tomorrow night," Joyce promised. "Would seven-thirty be alright?"

"Absolutely!" You nodded, already imagining how to tell Loki when he came home from work. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"See you tomorrow." Joyce and Bill waved goodbye as they climbed into their car and drove off. 

Something ached inside you as you watched them drive off, maybe because it reminded you of the way that Loki drove off this morning while you stood at the doorway waving goodbye. As you closed the door once again, you pondered over going out tomorrow, even if it was just something as small as a mid-morning stroll while Loki was out. But for now, there were other things that needed to be done.

Tagging: @anukulee @smolvenger @pineappleandro @lotsoflokilove23 @talklokitome @rumin8ting @12-pm-510 @painedfever @iambetterthanbefore @princess-ofthe-pages @thenotoriouserg @lokischambermaid @lokiismineforever @lokidbadguy @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl22 @holdmytesseract @wheredafandomat @wolfsmom1 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @evelyn-kingsley @muddyorbsblr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @huntress-artemiss @itsdoni @gruftiela @ellooo0ooo @ireallyneedtherapy @jennyggggrrr @turniptitaness @lokiforever

[static-kills]

Nerdy Prudes Characters as Filipino food!

The second coming because I couldn’t stay away

Steph - Lumpia

- A popular dish for a popular girl

- Lumpia’s typically filled with meat, veggies, and sometimes fish!

- An absolutely beloved food for anyone who’s tried it

- Steph would immediately put these on her plate if she saw them at a party

Pete - Champorado

- Imagine if hot chocolate was a porridge

- This was the most obvious answer for Pete

- He’d be eating this to get through the day

- I think he’d like evap milk better w/ his champorado, but has condensed milk for his blood sugar

Richie - Tocilog

- Richie gets a nice, full breakfast of sweet cured meat, eggs, and garlic fried rice

- Another beloved food for a beloved character

- I personally believe this man would instantly get hooked on garlic fried rice

- Like suddenly he’s having it with every meal

- Packs it in a bento box for school too

Ruth - Chicken Feet

- It’s not too freaky when you actually try it!

- Just give it a chance!

- Give Ruth a chance :(

- Alternatively, she is Filipino spaghetti in ways I cannot explain

Max - Lechon

- The life of the party

- The center of attention amongst the food

- Yk the party’s gonna hit when they bring Lechon

- Max would think it’d be so fucking cool if he pulled up to a party and saw it at the food table

Grace - Brazo de Mercedes

- Super light, super airy, an almost angelic dessert

- Brazo de Mercedes is a meringue roll typically filled with some kind of custard with powdered sugar on the outside

- A dessert befitting of miss chasity herself

- I can see Grace trying it at a bakery and being astonished at how fluffy it is

- It’s like a cloud in your mouth!!

- Must be what angels eat up in heaven

[chubbycelebs]

Big Fat Boyfriends (pt 3)

“Oh Louis this get away was soo needed. It feels great to relax.”

“I can tell you’re enjoying relaxing there babes.”

”Oi I’m allowed to gain a little weight on holiday.”

“A little weight?! Tell that to the swimming shorts your fat ass can’t fit into.”

Harry and Louis had decided to take a last minute get away trip to a yacht just off the coast of southern Italy. The boys had always wanted to go, picturing themselves lying on the beach from working up a good tan on their fit bodies. What they hadn’t envisioned was their fit bodies melting away and turning into soft fat guts. This didn’t affect their dreams however. The two enjoyed their trip to the maximum, taking advantage of every thing Italy had to offer two budding tourists.

In the mornings they would walk from the docks to the local bakery where they had become quite good friends with the baker that worked there. The baker was a good looking man in his 20s, a tight tanned body that his apron hugged beautifully. They would ask for a loaf of his freshest bread and as a treat the baker would give them a little basket filled with his finest sweet treats. He’d always pass over the basket and wink at the two plump boys, examining their growing bodies. Then they would get back to their yacht and eat the whole basket plus whatever they had planned for breakfast.

The rest of the morning was filled with touching, examining and exploring each other’s bodies, feeling how the other had filled out their clothes. In the early afternoon they would return to the town to get some lunch usually eating more than any of the locals. The two boys had earned a reputation within the town, being known as the greedy British boys. The town didn’t mind it but in fact would help them out. On their way back to the yacht, where they would pass out for the remainder of the evening, the locals would give them food that they had left over. One rather large hairy Italian man had waddled over the pair with large pot of spaghetti. Louis and Harry tried to refuse but he insisted. The two of them found them selves stuffing their selves with whatever gifts they got before falling victim to a food coma till the evenings. The evenings were filled with more eating and chilling out on the boat deck looking out across the hot Italian ocean. One evening Harry was looking out at the ocean. He looked at the moon glistening on the surface of the sea. He then glanced over at his boyfriend who was lying on the deck slowly munching on some bread and olive oil as an after dinner snack. Harry saw how Louis thin summer shirt was stretched right across his soft midsection. Harry envisioned him in the ocean soaking wet with the moon light shining on his round belly. This gave him an idea.

Harry stood on the edge of the boat. He pulled off his shirt and pulled down his trunks leaving him stark naked on the end of the yacht. Louis looked up at his fattened boyfriend. His heart jumped at the sight of his belly sticking out, his soft ass cheeks almost becoming shelves and his hard cock sticking out in the darkness of the late evening. Louis stood up and pulled off his shirt. Harry smirked at him and dropped into the ocean followed by a large splash. Louis walked to the edge of the boat and saw Harry smiling up at him. Louis slipped off his trunks, wriggling to get them over his fattening thighs. He jumped in after Harry and quickly bobbed up to the surface to meet him in the moon lit sea. Harry pulled Louis closer, the guts pressed against each others. Harry slowly kissed his boyfriend’s neck working up to his ear, giving it a little nibble. He pulled away slightly whispering “I like how fucking fat you’ve gotten and I want you fatter.” With this, Harry then pulled Louis up and clothes, Louis wrapping his legs around Harry’s love handles. Louis leaned in and whispered “you have no idea how fat I want you to get. You’re gonna be huge piggy.” Harry smirks at Louis and then lowers him slightly onto his hard cock. Louis moans as Harry’s thick dick goes into him. Harry slowly starts to move Louis up and down his throbbing member whilst Louis chubby dick rubbed between their fat bellies. As Harry got quicker so did Louis. The two boys were moaning as their wet fattened bodies rubbed faster and harder together. Harry couldn’t hold it anymore and cam inside Louis fat ass filling him with hot cum leading Louis to quickly follow, covering both their bellies in his hot sticky cum. The night was filled with more kissing, fucking and feeding. This getaway was exactly what they needed to grow their waist lines.

Once the two boys returned off their getaway they truly realised the damage they had done to their figures. Their guts had ballooned, hanging over the edge of the waistband of all their trousers. The only thing they fit into was joggers. It’s the only item of clothing that can accommodate their large waistlines as well as their fattening asses. The two fat boys would stand next to each other as they got ready, struggling to fit into a single item of clothing. Watching the other barely even fit into size extra large made them so satisfied. “That trip has really done wonders for us” Louis says grabbing Harry’s underbelly and giving it a squeeze.

“It’s worked a little too well. Now we have no clothes that fit our fat assess.”

“Looks like I’ll have to get used to seeing your pig body all the time then huh fatty?” Louis said as he walked out of their bedroom in just his underwear. It cling tightly to his globe like ass cheeks showing every jiggle as he walked out. Harry, who was stuck in a shirt that was oversized just a few months ago, ripped the shirt off and chased after his large boyfriend. The pair now decided they were beyond clothes for huge bodies. Plus it made it easier to fuck after eating a huge meal.

Part 3 of my new story. Really feeling inspired to create stories again which is great!

[strawberryshortcake0413]

One drop

Toxic!leonkennedy x reader

READ THIS CONTANT AT YOUR OWN RISK

MDNI +18

Warnings: out of character toxic Leon, abuse, depression, anxiety, insecurity, abortion, non-consent etc.

You finally thought to let go of your toxic ex, only to realize you were in a situation where he has the most power in your mind.

Ps: if you're dealing with any DV or toxic behavior from your partner, get professional help and advice and report them to the necessary agency.

The jiggling sound of the keys opening the door to his apartment woke Leon up after a nap. He sighed heavily before getting up from the bed and adjusting his shirt in place. 

You entered the room holding a bag of fresh groceries. Leon needed something nutritional for him to eat, not the alcohol or the canned salty spaghetti. He gritted his teeth almost unnoticeable, but you knew him too well. You love him too much, even if it was killing you slowly.

"Hey..." you muttered, smiling at him weakly as he stared. Something in your chest was threatening to lose, almost snapping and breaking down. 

Even though it was not something you would like to admit, you knew something was wrong with you and Leon.

Losing him was your end, and you knew he was itching to leave you. You knew he wanted to flee away to another woman. Just looking at his cold, annoyed eyes that make your knees weak, you wanted to run out of the apartment to not face his judgment. 

He continued to stare at you, not even bothering to say a word before taking a look at the brown bag. 

"What's this?" He said coldly as he lifted a bag of beetroot. You nervously looked down, he didn't like you cooking vegetables. 

"I am not eating this shit." He muttered throwing the bag at the coffee table before looking at you up and down. 

"You should eat it yourself. Take care of yourself more. You gained some fat. Maybe it's better if we take a break. " he snickered before slamming the door to the bathroom.

Standing there, in his apartment being humiliated was even more embarrassing to think about the fact you love him. 

You walked to the couch before sitting down slowly. 

Is this what you get for trying to be a good partner? Is this what you deserve because you fell for him even when you knew what kind of a person Leon was? 

Maybe. 

Maybe he didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve such a woman, who is everything but perfect. Leon deserves the best and he knows it. You were not nearly close to the person he should be with. 

Because you're a loser. Nothing more than a huge rock on his path to his rock star destiny.

Leon listened Intently to your wailing for hours before you locked yourself in his guest room. He knew the way you were being treated daily was shitty behavior from him. But in the end, no matter how much you cried and yelled at him, you always came crawling back to his bed.

The autumn breeze helped Leon to come down to earth before he laid down to sleep for the night.

In the morning, he puts on some boxers quickly before walking to the kitchen, expecting you to cook as an apology. Leon suddenly stopped as the kitchen was empty and cold. No sign of you making his favorite breakfast. 

He searched for you through the small apartment before realizing you were gone. Leon felt complicated. He wasn't sure whether to be happy that the only thing that kept him from his freedom was now gone. But at the same time, he felt offended like he never did before. 

Leon never thought you would leave him. After all, you were the only one who was after him all the time. Why would you leave now?

After a while,  he gave up his worry for you and your actions. Sure, having a cooker and a cleaner for yourself was nice, especially after he went on missions, but it wasn't worth the lack of freedom to go out and not having the privilege to do whatever he wanted.��

You were back in your little house, inherited from your mother. It wasn't big, but enough for you. Since the last time you saw Leon, he had broken your heart. He didn't even bother to call you for 4 weeks. 

Going back to work after quitting your job for him was embarrassing. Your coworkers asked you a bunch of things that you would never want to mention again. 

Why would you tell anyone "love of your life" was just embarrassed by and hated you? 

The doorbell rang soon, indicating it was the pizza delivery. For the last few weeks, trying to cook and eat the dinner you made was too hard. It always reminded you of how you cooked Leon everything. His favorite, to the one he hated the most.

Just thinking about it makes you nauseous. 

 When you were going to eat your third slice, everything came right out. Including the pizza. 

What are you supposed to do when you are fine but not well? It has been like this for the past few weeks. Did you love Leon so much, now that your body was declining to function normally? 

You opened the period app on your phone to track your mood when you finally noticed the big words on the screen.

'PERIOD MISSED FOR 9 DAYS' 

What? It was impossible, right? Why? Why were you missing your period? Was it cancer? Was it even possible?

“L-Leon…” you moaned, almost whining when he pulled out mid session. Sitting up a bit to face him and to see what he was doing before Leon smirked at you. 

“Baby. Only this time. Please? C'mon pretty girl. Only this time, I promise” he cooed, slowly rolling off the condom knowing damn well you can't refuse him.

Maybe you were dumb for believing it was the last time or you were just so horny you can’t resist raw sex. Either way, Leon won.

Slipping his cock inside in your tight walls, letting out a loud whimper. He hasn't gone raw in a few weeks since the party where a whore allowed him to even cum inside. 

He was addicted to this feeling. 

You felt like crying. Either way, it was not something you wanted to happen. Pregnant from your emotionally abusive ex or cancer, for which you had no money for treatment. 

You heard stories about happy couples finding out they're pregnant, and then it being cancer. 

What were you supposed to do if you were pregnant? Abortion? Adoption? Or raising the baby? Alone and miserable? 

If it was cancer, you would simply give up rather than go through that hell.

After crying for a few hours, you finally got the courage to dress up. If Leon saw you like this, he would make fun of you. Cry baby.

Maybe testing with an actual test would be best. Maybe it would be negative. Maybe you don't have cancer. Maybe it's just a way your body was reacting to not eating much. It was weird for you to assume it was cancer. But who knows all the possibilities?

You were having a panic attack. Trying to pay for the test with cash made it even harder. Seeing your handshake as an old washing machine earned you a pitiful look from the cashier. 

You were walking faster than a running person to your car in the parking lot, the box of tests clutched in your hand.

Suddenly you bumped into a person and fell on your butt. "I'm sorry" you muttered quickly before jumping up and running to your car. 

The blonde raised his eyebrows at the sight of you after a month. During the few days, he had the fun that was bothering him for months. Even started dating one of the girls that gave him his head in the bathroom of the bar. She was prettier than most of the other girls, and most importantly you.

He walked slowly to you, watching you struggle to open the door like it's a comedy show. He loved it. He fucking loved watching you suffer without him. 

"So... How's it going?" Leon said, eyeing you up and down to see if you took his advice on glow-up. 

You seem to have lost a few pounds to the point he wondered how you would look now on his bed. A few months ago the dark circles under your eyes were almost unnoticeable. Now it looked like you jumped in the streets.

Leon smiled genuinely seeing your new look. Even though you looked like you were minutes away from passing out, he loved your new look. It makes you look like a model if you just fix those ugly eye bags and dull eyes.

You suddenly trembled to see him after a long time. Especially at this time, when you're in the most vulnerable state of all times. 

You struggled to open the car door with your trembling hands when finally Leon pulled it open. 

"What? You decide to ignore me, sweetheart?" Leon muttered trying to get in the car before you locked it.

"What are you doing?? Get out" you yelled, getting defensive suddenly. You were suffering because of one reason, and that was him.

"Woah. Woah. You're getting real ugly here honey. You didn't miss me?" He said getting in completely. 

"Leon. Get out. Or I'll call the-" you yelled when opened the door and put his hand on top of your mouth from the backseat and quickly kissed your cheek despite the fact you were mumbling and kicking the seats.

"My little baby just needs a dick to calm down. Doesn't she?" Leon cooed before one of his hands crept under your pants, slowly circling your clit.

For the first time in months, the pleasure was surreal. But the way you were getting it was not something you wanted at all. Especially from Leon.

But after a few moments, you gave up. It was not like you could fight a trained government agent off your body. 

"Aw... you seem sensitive. I bet no one would touch you other than me was willing to touch you." Leon barked while kissing your neck, leaving wet trails of saliva. 

Despite the fact you knew this was wrong, it was harder than it should be. You didn't know whether to love him or hate him. Whether to feel ashamed or angry. 

You were getting groped, yet you felt like it was your fault and Leon felt sympathy towards you for even looking at your way, let alone touching you. 

Maybe. Just maybe you should be grateful for it. Maybe you were just as ugly as Leon told you. Maybe he was kind and you were a brat. You didn't appreciate his sympathy for you.

"Leon. Please. No. Stop" you whined as he pulled his hands back and exited the backseat before getting in the driver's one, on top of you. 

"Shut up. Will ya?" He muttered before taking off your shirt quickly, latching onto your bud. Somehow every action he seems to be doing felt more pleasing than ever. 

Then it suddenly clicked in your head. There was a possibility you were pregnant, and the rumors that pregnancy makes the pleasure increase didn't seem to be a lie considering how you were reacting to his touch.

"Leon" you whined, almost pushing him off. 

"What are you doing?" He narrowed his eyes, almost ready to yell at you. 

"I don't want it. Get out. Or I'll call the cops" you yelled. You yelled at him. You fucking yelled. 

For you, it was the bravest thing you ever dared to do while you felt like a horrible person. To him, you were getting out of hand. Out of his control.

"What did you say?" Leon reacted quickly, not wanting any outburst again from you.

"Leave me alone. Please. Leon. I d-don't want it. Please. Just leave me alone" you cried before the blonde let out a heavy sign. 

“Fine. If you don't want a good dick, then i'm not gonna force you”

Leon stared at your face a few seconds before jumping out of the car door easily and disappearing a few moments later. 

He left his car, far away from you.

The only thing that was connecting you both was the baby. 

Inside, you will always love him. This baby, even if it came at the wrong time to the wrong parents, you knew you loved it. More than yourself. But life requires you to make hard decisions for the sake of yourself. At least once. You knew what to do, clearer than water. 

Taking a deep breath coming out of the hospital. It was the first day of winter. Mother nature had decided to decorate herself with snow. Glittery white snow. Cold breeze of the fresh snow made your stomach growl. After all, some hot chocolate with a cinnamon bun was the perfect way to start the new day. A new month. A new year. A new life.

If it wasn't for the accident in the parking lot of a grocery store, you weren't sure if you would have dared to get abortion.

After all, Leon was a horrible person and would have let your child suffer. You loved them so much to the point you have decided having you as a mother would give them nothing but pain, so abortion was the right choice.

It was hard to cope with the reality of losing something that came from someone you loved. Then you realized at least once in your life, making this selfish decision will save you and your baby. 

You were not ready or fit to be a mother yet, bringing a baby in this cruel world while being clueless about everything was too overwhelming for you. 

Leon never knew about it. You knew him too well. Even if he didn't want anything to do with them, he would have gotten mad for your decision. He loved collecting things he couldn't take care of. And Leon knew it himself. 

Looking at the sky, to the soft blue clouds and the sun hiding behind them, you smiled softly. Genuinely for the first time in months.

"I'm sorry... I hope you understand it was the right thing to do. Come to momma when we're both ready" a single drop of tear ran down your soft cheek before you wiped it away with your gloved hand. 

Just because you think it's love, doesn't mean it is love you thought before walking to the Cafe. You will always remember.

[lostwriter--xx3]

Lily

@prongsfoot-microfic

Dedicated to the lovely @shivstar and my own dear Prongs @rosemelodyshah

-------

"And, who's the first?"

It was a casual question, and Lily knew the answer. She turned away with the dish.

Thus, she missed James' sheepish face as he replied, "Sirius."

Lily stopped, her slipper halfway across the tile. She locked eyes with James in the mirror above the basin. "Sirius?"

"Yeah", James sipped his black coffee, glancing at Sirius beside him. He hid a smile behind his own cup.

Lily looked away from the mirror and bent to the basin, washing away the pie crumbs on the plate. "I hadn't expected that. I didn't know you..."

"Could bake?" Sirius smiled. "I can't. But Prongsie was craving apple pie. I snuck into the kitchen and stole what I thought were the ingredients." He laughed, rippling and blue. "Guess what they were?"

"Eggs, flour and apples." James was laughing too. "He mashed and baked it in an open fire...in a cauldron."

Lily smiled weakly, privately horrified. "And that got first place? Better than your mom?" Or me?

"It had Paddy's touch." Jame nudged him with his shoulder affectionately. "He could serve up spaghetti with fish sauce and it would be the baar spaghetti I've ever had."

Lily saw Sirius blush in the mirror. She bent to the cabinet under the sink with last night's leftovers. Some spaghetti was left at the bottom. She dumped it out and washed it.

"I couldn't get a cookbook", Sirius said apologetically.

"That made it special." James shrugged, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he reached over to take his plate. He came to the sink and put it down, smiling at Lily. Lily smiled back, tightly.

"Did you actually eat the apple contraption?"

"I couldn't hurt his feelings", he winked at Sirius over his shoulder, who made a face.

"You guys are so sweet, like an old married couple!" Lily exclaimed, dumping out the leftover pie in the dustbin.

Sirius grinned. "We are."

"Besides, he did all that. He literally stole the ingredients under the Head Elf's watch. And snuck into the Potions classroom. Of course I loved it. Of course I love him." James had left Lily's side, and was chokehold-hugging Sirius from behind the chair.

I got up at 5 today.

"You really need to stop embarrassing me in front of your wife." Sirius wrapped an arm around him fondly.

"James, can you stay in and help remove this mirror?" Lily called out. "It'd look better in the sitting room."

"Tomorrow, dear. I and Paddy have plans today."

Lily slammed down the dish. "Have fun. I need go write a letter."

She left the room. James didn't really notice.

In their bedroom, she found the writing desk. The pad was empty, the ink was at its dregs. James had gone through all the pages writing long, detailed letters to Sirius about every mundane household thing. Lily had seen the replies. Sirius had specifically responded to ever single thing James had gushed about. How sweet. How thoughtful.

There was an unsealed envelope beside the pad. It was the letter James had written last night, planned to post today, before Sirius payed a surprise and definitely unauthorised visit to him. Lily hesitated, then pulled out and unfolded the letter.

Dear Sirius,

I miss you. How I miss you! I sit down for breakfast, lunch, supper (I'm never at home for dinner these days, always some fad at the Order) and I'm always staring out the window at the front wall of the house (have I told you about the new curtains? They are grey with polka dots. Lily didn't like them very much but I insisted on them, they look just like your eyes) hoping you will appear. I'm rambling, of course. I'm not in my right mind, I feel crazy without you. I wish you would come live with us. The guest room isn't ready yet, but we could curl up on the floor with the sleeping bags (the ones we got for Quidditch final in 7th Year) and watch the stars. The window faces the backyard, y'know. It's beautiful. Lily can take the bedroom.

No, honestly, I'm happy with Lily. It feels like a constant adrenaline rush. I finally won her over! But I miss you. I wish you'd visit. I need to feel your arm around my shoulder, I need to hear you laugh, I need to feel your knuckles under my thumb. I need you, love. I wish you'd come. I miss you like a limb. You're always the first thing on my mind when I wake up and my last waking thought before I sleep. Sometimes, I even dream of you (crazy, I know). I hold a pillow pretending its you and that I'm back in the dorm and it's Fifth Year and everything is fine. I wish I could feel that safety again. I can't tell Lily, but I'm so scared, Sirius. I'm scared of dying. I'm scared that one day I will die in a solo mission and I won't see you again. I wish I hadn't joined the Order. Of course, I want to fight. But sometimes, when I think of you and me and how we used to joke about sharing a red-bricked house with a picket fence with a swing in a kitchen garden, I can't help but be selfish. Are ideals worth more than you? I don't know, I honestly don't know...

Well, I'm all out of paper. Seems like writing letters to you is all I do nowadays. Dumbledore is pressuring me to spend more time with Lily. I love her, but I need some space too. He keeps insisting on knowing when we are having kids. It's so odd and uncomfortable, how is it any of his business? And I don't want kids. Who has kids in war? Lily wants a daughter. I want a damn cat and you. I'm starting to detest Order meetings because of all these wrangles now. But I'll always attend them. I get to see you. I'd attend a conference in hell (that's what the meetings are these days) to see you. Don't forget me in your roomie bliss with Peter, okay? I love you.

Always,

Your James.

Lily put back the letter and fetched a new pad of paper from the shelf. She looked at the dregs of the ink. It would be enough. She sat down to write.

Dear Sev—

Lily got up and put on a jacket. She had to go out and buy some ink. She would need it.

[lilac-hecox]

would you write that idea that's been moving around here recently with everybody thinking ian and anthony are exes before actually getting to know them? bonus points if they hear about it and they actually reconsider some things 👀

Actually Exes?- Ian/Anthony - ianthony

--

It’s at lunch when Angela perks up and lets her mouth move faster than her brain, letting her thoughts fall like loose change from her mouth with no one to catch them.

“You know, I was thinking of how progressive it is that our company was not only founded by, but owned, and run successfully by a pair of exes. Gay exes at that.”

Chanse looks at her, arching an eyebrow. “Angela…”

“What?” she asks, taking a bite of her salad. “Don’t you think that’s cool? I mean. You don’t really see that a lot. Imagine buying back your company with your ex-boyfriend and making a big theatrical reunion and all that.”

“Oh, Ang…” Amanda says, as if she were looking at a cat who is struggling to figure out how to get itself out of a box or something.

Angela looks around at her friends and co-workers, and then she looks over at the far table where Ian and Anthony are seated, shoulder-to-shoulder. Anthony is cracking up at something Ian has said, a grin stretched across Ian’s face, as Anthony wheezes and pounds his fist on the table.

When Anthony regains his composure, they keep eating until Ian offers Anthony a bite of his salad from his own fork, which Anthony gladly takes.

“You’re telling me those two salads sharing freaks aren’t ex-boyfriends?” Angela asks.

“They aren’t,” Courtney says, turning away from Shayne next to her to focus on Angela and the conversation that had been going on next to them. “As much as it seems like they are.”

“But…” Angela says, frowning. All of her thoughts of a progressive Smosh being championed by queer owners flying out the window of her mind. “Look at them.”

Courtney smiles at the two men who are lost in a world that seems to be completely their own.

“I know, but I’ve known them a long time and as far as I know they’ve never been together.”

“This is one of those things where you guys are fucking with me, isn’t it?” Angela asks, “like, ha ha, Angela believed that Ian and Anthony never dated.”

“No! I swear!” Courtney says through giggles which isn’t helping her case.

“Bitch, don’t you think I would have said something?” Chanse asks.

“You did! Our half-time song at the funeral! The sexual tension of it all!”

Chanse blinks at Angela and then looks at the group around them.

“She’s got me there.”

“Angela,” Shayne says, smiling but more serious than the rest, “We swear as far as any of us know Ian and Anthony are just friends.”

Angela lets the conversation die down after that, but she keeps her eye on her bosses the rest of lunch in case they do anything that could signify that they ever were a couple.

Over the next few days Angela takes to watching Ian and Anthony. She follows a distance behind them as they walk down the hall together. She notes that Anthony knows the exact way Ian likes his coffee in the mornings. Later on, when they get ready to shoot, Angela overhears Ian reminding Anthony that he needs to grab a snack after the shoot because Anthony had a small breakfast. She watches Anthony smile and nod, reaching out to touch Ian’s arm in thanks.

There’s no way they’ve never dated.

She records a Lunchtime Podcast with them and Erin and during the episode they talk about how they sat together at lunch throughout high school. Ian even feeds Anthony a forkful of vegan spaghetti. Angela has to dig her nails into the palm of her hand to stop herself from asking outright during the podcast about their history and their relationship.

The next day Angela gets an email from Emily that they are looking for cast and crew meme submissions for the upcoming episode of Who Memed It? Angela scans the website Spencer had shown her for making memes, but nothing inspires her. She’s too wrapped up in this Ian and Anthony conspiracy.

The way they look at each other, talk to each other, how close they are, there is no way they aren’t amicable exes!

Things at Smosh get a little busier and Angela can’t keep track of Ian and Anthony as closely as she wants. She does walk by Ian’s office and catches him on his couch, phone in hand, Anthony with his head pillowed on Ian’s shoulder, napping there.

Then, they are set to film the Who Meme’d It? episode. Angela isn’t on the panel, but she sits and watches because those episodes are always a good time and really funny to watch be filmed. Ian and Anthony happen to be on the panel along with Courtney.

They go through the memes and then partway through Shayne presents a meme that is two people making out, bodies tangled together.

“So, this says, uh, how Angela sees Ian and Anthony,” Shayne says, laughing as he explains the meme.

Anthony laughs, his cheeks red, and Ian is grinning.

“Angela has seen us make out?” Anthony asks, glancing at her across the set.

“No, she just thought you two were actual ex-boyfriends,” Shayne says, laughing.

The cast and crew watching break into laughter, Angela too.

“Hey!” she says, standing up to defend herself, “it’s an honest mistake to make!”

The laughter quiets down and the panel make their guesses. The meme was made by Shayne, and he sheepishly grins at Angela as she glares at him.

When the video is over, Angela makes a beeline for Shayne, she is so wrapped up in giving him shit over his meme that she misses the way Ian and Anthony happen to slink off the set together, as usual.

--

“So, Angela thought we actually dated,” Anthony says, “that’s funny.”

“Of course she did,” Ian says, rolling his eyes, “she also thought xylophone was spelt with a ‘Z’.”

“Yeah, true, and she and Chanse wrote that half-time show saying we had sexual tension,” Anthony adds.

Ian looks at Anthony, the two of them in their shared office.  

“Our meddlesome kids,” Ian says with a sigh.

Anthony grins, “Yeah, see, when you say they are our kids, when we’re their dads, they kinda have a point.”

“Oh,” Ian says, “you want to talk to them? Tell them to tone it down?”

Anthony smiles, leaning across the expanse of Ian’s desk and covering Ian’s hand with his own, squeezing gently, affectionately.

“Nah, it’s way more fun this way.”

[graciegoeskrazy]

i can stage a situation

warnings: r has an eating disorder, although it's not defined the symptoms are very similar to anorexia, yelling, lying, idk its lowk rough, i think i hate this? but i dont?

a/n: I have not a single clue who requested this but someone did so0ooooo THANKS ANON❣️❣️❣️

V IMPORTANT NOTE: I am by no means trying to romanticize or promote ed’s or anything of the sort. I’ve been a dancer for 16 years training in many styles, and I have seen firsthand how things like this can hurt people and those around them, but even then I will not claim to know every single thing possible about this subject - because I don’t. However, I did try my best and did research to try and write the best story I could without dishonoring the real-life issues people have to go through. All my love goes out to those going through this. <3

Your dad said he had a late night ahead of him. Something about recording with John or whatever, you didnt really listen. The point was he was going to be gone on a trip for the night, leaving Friday afternoon and returning Saturday morning. He would leave before you got home on Friday so, when Thursday rolled around and you decided you didn't want to spend your Friday night moping around by yourself, you called up your uncle Matty to see if you could spend the night. He, of course, with you being his favorite person, said yes. You told him to pick you up around 6 that night and to be prepared for a movie night.

You just weren't interested in eating. You couldn't exactly pinpoint the reason why. If you thought about it long and hard enough, you could probably figure it out, but thinking about it too much only seemed to make things worse.

When you got in the car the next day, Matty offered to cook you something, you said you weren't hungry and that your Dad fed you before he left. Both of those things were lies.

…

“I’m Home!”

“I’m in here.” You said, letting your voice guide him to the living room. You were scrolling on your phone while something was playing on the TV. He dropped his carry-on and case onto the couch and immediately went to you. Hugging you from behind and dramatically placing kisses all over your forehead and face. You squirmed out of his grasp and he smiled and came around to the other side of the couch to sit next to you. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” He said.

You smiled at him again.“It’s fine, Dad. Really. You don’t have to worry.”

He smiled back before changing the subject, knowing you weren't too worried about his tardiness. “How was your uncle’s?”

You shrugged. “Fine. We just watched a movie and hung out. It was fun.”

“Yeah? What did you have for dinner?”

You thought for a second, caught off guard by the question. “Spaghetti.” You finally said, remembering what Matty cooked for dinner white you sat on the other side of the counter.

Ross hummed. “Really? Was it good?”

“Delicious.” You said with a smile.

“Hm.” He knew you were lying - he knows you too well - but decided to not address it for now. “If it's your uncle’s-cooking then I beg to differ,” he said, getting up from the couch.

You can’t keep a secret from Ross. He can see through everyone, especially you, his daughter for crying out loud. Ross always had suspicions about your diet. He was the one who fed you of course, but he noticed the way you played around with your food during dinner. He also noticed how you always skipped breakfast and how you were always so tired and your energy was so low when you came home from school. He could see right through you when you told him about your endeavor at Matty’s, but he wanted to see for himself.

Ross | Did she eat at your house?

Matty | Wym?

Ross | Y/n. Did she eat when she was at your house?

Matty | No? She said she ate before she came. Y?

Ross | Did she snack on anything?

Matty | No? Not that I saw? What’s going on?

Ross | Nothing. Just wondering.

He sighed and marched up the stairs.

…

His main emotion was anger, but he couldn't tell why. Maybe because you lied to him, or maybe because he thought his baby girl was in danger and couldn't stand the thought of you being in pain. Truthfully, he was angry at himself. It started to become clear thatEither way, he tried to collect himself as he walked upstairs, sighing and shaking his head as he reached your bedroom door. He knocked.

“Come in.” You said.

He opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. You both watched each other for a second, waiting for the other to make a move first. You broke first and laughed. “You just gonna watch me like a creep?”

He walked into your room and sat on the foot of your bed. “Baby, I'm gonna ask you a question and I want you to be honest.”

Your demeanor changed along with his. You could tell this was about something serious but you didn’t know what. And never in a million years did you think he would see this clearly though you.

“Okay?” You said, clearly confused.

He took a breath before answering. “Did you eat dinner last night?”

It took you back. Your thoughts from earlier flooded your brain with the realization you were right…he is onto you. “Ye-yeah…at Matty’s house…”

He sighed. “I don’t like it when you lie, y/n.”

You let out a dry chuckle. “I’m not lying-“

His face remained serious despite your best efforts to keep it light. “Yes, you are. And you just did it again.” You gulped. He knew. “And you didn’t eat breakfast this morning ethier.”

You took a moment to think but came up with nothing. “I was full from dinner.”

“But you didn’t eat dinner.” He answered sharply.

“Of course I ate dinner! Why would I not eat?”

“Because I texted your uncle and asked if you ate or not and he said ‘no’! In fact, he said that I fed you before you left, which I know for a fact I did not.” You had nothing to say after that. There was no use in fighting. He knew everything you’ve been up to and there was no saving you. The room stayed quiet. Ross sighed and slowly opened up. “So, I'm going to ask you again, did you eat dinner at Matty’s last night?”

You hesitantly look him in the eyes. “…No.” You whispered.

Ross continued. “And did you eat breakfast this morning?”

“No.”

“Did you eat at school at all in the past week?”

“No.” A tear fell as you spoke.

“When was the last time you ate something?”

You shrugged slightly. “I don’t know?”

Ross nodded, trying to remain calm, and stood to sit back down closer to you. “Why?” He asked

“I don’t know-”

“Y/n…”

"I don’t know! I don’t!" you burst out, the words tumbling from your lips in a rush. "I just... everything feels off... and I just don’t feel like... eating."

Ross's eyes widen, a mix of concern and desperation. His mind went to the first things he could think of. "Is it because of school? A-are people... pressuring you into this or something? I-"

"Of course not. I’m not that naive," you cut him off, glaring at him, the frustration in your voice evident.

"I never said you were." He takes a step closer, his voice softening. "Where did this start, baby? I need you to tell me." His eyes search yours, pleading. "You’re hurting yourself, Y/N. How could you do this to yourself? I mean... you’re the kind of kid people dream of raising-"

"No, I’m not," you snap back, your voice trembling.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I’m not!" Your voice hit a volume Ross hadn’t heard in a while. "I’m a clueless, lonely, boring 13-year-old who was the product of a one-night stand, trying to figure out what to do with her life."

Ross's face pales, the impact of your words hitting him like a physical blow. "Is that what this is about? Baby, is this about Mom?"

"It doesn't matter-" you begin, rolling your eyes, but he interrupts you, his voice rising.

"Uh, it actually matters more than anything else on the planet right now. My baby girl is hurting. Not only that, but she’s hurting herself, and I will be damned if I just let something like this go."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "She was trying to make her life perfect... And so I thought... she’s trying to make her life perfect and I’m already doing this so what’s the harm if I keep going. I wanted to be perfect for her."

Ross’s eyes fill with tears. "You’re already perfect-"

"Will you cut the crap! I’m not! And you don’t understand it!" You feel the tears welling up, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall.

"You’re right, I don’t understand it." His voice breaks. "I don't understand how you can continuously, for months and months on end, hurt yourself when you are already the definition of perfection to me-"

"Well, I’m not that to Mom. Do you think I would be doing this if she thought that? Do you think I would put myself through this if she thought I was the ‘definition of perfection’?"

"You are the prettiest girl I have ever laid my eyes on-"

"You’re just saying that-"

"No. I’m not." You look away, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak.

Ross sighed. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Because you wouldn’t understand, Dad- you don’t understand."

He reaches out, his hands trembling as they rest on your shoulder. "I can try."

"It’s not that easy," you whisper, your voice barely audible, tears at a level 10.

Ross nods, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly. "We need to get you help, Y/N."

"I know." Your voice is small, but in that moment, you realize it’s the first step towards healing.

[mariacallous]

My father was a short-order cook, a strictly stovetop kind of guy. Israeli salads and scrambled eggs. I never saw him approach the lower half of the oven, except to clean it within an inch of its life. It would take me until my 30s to realize that he did not grow up with anything like the ovens we had in Canada, and that there wasn’t much in his childhood home to place in a stove. 

He was born in Mandatory Palestine in 1936 to Yemenite parents, who themselves were born in Ottoman Palestine. All four of his grandparents left Yemen in 1881 in what was known as the First Yishuv. 

For my father, an oven was a primus — a portable camping stove that uses kerosene or paraffin oil. As a 12-year-old boy during the 1948 War of Independence, he ate grass and weeds (mostly mallow, known as kubezeh) that he had to forage for himself. So, on balance, his short-order cooking made sense. 

When I grew up and moved to Israel and other new immigrants asked me about my background, my father’s lack of culinary skills became a source of repeated disappointment. 

You must have had tons of jachnun and zhug? 

More like zero. 

I thought you said he was Yemenite. 

My father did put an awful lot of Mexican salsa on everything from spaghetti to chicken, and ate onions like apples for breakfast, but Jewish food for me was Ashkenazi all the way. Well, you can’t go back.

Recently, I introduced a new dialogue project with my EFL (English as a Foreign Language) college students (anything to get them talking). Each student had to film herself discussing her favorite family recipe. I teach in Jerusalem and my students come from a range of backgrounds that include Morocco, Algeria, Syria, Ethiopia, Russia and France. 

Occasionally I have a student with a Yemenite background. This particular student, we’ll call her Shira, introduced her recipe by stressing how often she eats it at home, and how delicious and nutritious it was, particularly for keeping on weight. This made sense as Yemen was (and still is) a very poor country, and many of their recipes are inexpensive and calorie dense, something important in an undernourished population. 

Then, to my amazement, Shira described my father’s “hot cereal” recipe, as I had always called it. He used to mention that his mother made it for him year-round, including on Passover, but I took that to mean it was a family recipe, not a Yemenite Jewish one. 

My father made this for me on the rare winter mornings when he was not off to work before I woke up. I remember the satisfied look on his face as he stirred and stirred groats, tossing out tidbits about his mother and his life in pre-state Israel like rare coins while he watched butter melt into the milk. He wasn’t much of a talker when it came to his past, but perhaps the familiar smell loosened his tongue. 

For a few minutes, I would be drawn into his world of a mother who sold her own saluf (Yemenite flatbread) and zhug to passersby for extra money and chatted in both Arabic and Yiddish, rather than my usual stance, which was “Why can’t he be like all of the other fathers in my Jewish school and pull out the AlphaBits and Fruit Loops?” Nowadays, this recipe is a family favorite, particularly on Passover and if we are having sleepover guests on Shabbat. 

I remember Shira’s surprise when I told her I was familiar with this recipe and thanked her for choosing it as her assignment. Turns out my birthright wasn’t entirely lost to me, it just took me longer than most to realize it. Better late than never. 

Cooking notes 

This recipe is endlessly adaptable:

My kids prefer it with half a cup less water and half a cup more milk. Some people omit the milk, just as they would for oatmeal. 

I’ve seen recipes that add a teaspoon of sugar and margarine instead of butter, though I’ve never tried it. 

On Passover, we substitute crushed matzah for groats or wheat. 

On Shabbat, we bake this mix in a jachnun pot on a low heat (225°F or 100°C) overnight in the oven for cold Saturday mornings, which yields a very soft mixture.