Oct 3, 2016
Douggie, go get me some onions or something oniony... I'm craving onion for some reason? Like really bad. The last time I craved something like this I was- oh crap...
BABE.
BABE, WE HAVE FIVE. WE’D NEED ANOTHER HAND TO COUNT THEM.
BABE
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Douggie, go get me some onions or something oniony... I'm craving onion for some reason? Like really bad. The last time I craved something like this I was- oh crap...
BABE.
BABE, WE HAVE FIVE. WE’D NEED ANOTHER HAND TO COUNT THEM.
BABE
DOUGGIE! :D
BBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
*evil snickering and giggling as we drive off*
LET’S GO SEE A DRIVE IN MOVIE AND CANOODLE IN THE CAR OR SOMETHING. OUR ONE NIGHT OF FREEDOM
What's this I hear about you shipping me with Senator Sumner?
whaaaa? wwwwwhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?
Pregnancy Hormones
This story is written by request - from Fauve. Please enjoy! (And, I didn't proofread it yet, so excuse my errors.)
“Stephennnnnnn!”
Groaning, Steven put his book down and got up off the sofa at his wife’s insistent voice. He opened the door separating their bedroom and private sitting room and poked his head around it, pasting a smile on his face. “Yes, darling?”
Adele pouted. “Don’t think I didn’t hear that groan.”
“I think the pregnancy has increased her hearing,” he muttered under his breath.
Her brows drew together. “And if I can hear a groan through a closed door, I certainly can hear that, Stephen A. Douglas.” Adele ran her hands over her baby bump, her face resuming its pout. “The baby is hungry.”
Stephen’s face took on the beaming glow it always did whenever the baby was mentioned. “What does she want, darling?” They’d decided to refer to the child she carried as a girl.
“She wants your mozzarella sticks. And the marinara sauce. And pickles.” She batted her eyelashes and giggled.
“My mozzarella sticks?” His voice faltered, and his mouth drooped. “Er, all of them?”
Adele leaned forward on the bed, her eyes catching fire. “Yes, Stephen! All of the mozzarella sticks; do you want to disappoint the baby?!”
Jumping, he shook his head emphatically, his eyes widening in slight panic. “No, no, no, I don’t want that! I’ll get them right away!” He practically ran from the room and down to the kitchen, only pausing for exactly one minute to stare at himself in the mirror and adjust his second favorite cravat and third most flattering waistcoat. He’d not had to go out today, so he hadn’t made as much as an effort.
In the kitchen, he made the food she’d requested as quickly as he could, stealing one mozzarella stick for himself.
After all, what his wife didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?
Gathering all the food, Stephen tripped up the steps, humming, and, again, stopping only once to admire how handsome he was. He glided through the door, singing out, “I have all the foooood, sweetheart!”
Adele sat up straighter and made grabbing motions with her hands. “Gimmie!” Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
Stephen chortled. He didn’t like giving up his precious mozzarella sticks, but making his wife and the baby happy was much more important. Placing the plates around her, he watched her eat with gusto. He climbed up next to her on the bed, careful not to disturb the food or Adele.
Without turning, Adele discerned his unbroken gaze upon her. “What are you looking at, Stephen?” she mumbled between bites.
“Just the second most gorgeous creature in the world. After yours truly.” He grinned.
Rolling her eyes, she turned to look at him, her expression softening at his wide grin. She knew he was being somewhat facetious in that statement. “Alright. You can have a mozzarella stick.”
He looked hurt. “I can’t believe you would think I said that to get one of these delicious treats!” But he snapped up one of the mozzarella sticks and devoured it, licking his fingers clean.
“Stevie,” Adele said in a breathy voice, having paused in her steady eating.
“Huh?” He glanced up, surprised to see her pupils widened and that she’d leaned toward him as much as her six months pregnant belly would allow. He blinked at her rapidly.
“You’re just so adorable.” Pushing the plates away from her, she reached a hand out to him. “Kiss me.”
“Er – aren’t you still hungry?”
She nodded. “Yes.” Adele clutched his hand and tugged, urging him closer.
Momentarily bewildered, his eyes then widened in understanding. “Oh.” Sidling alongside her, Stephen draped a hand over her belly and smirked. “Oh.”
Adele smirked back and began to kiss him intensely.
After a few moments, they broke apart and grinned at each other. “You know, darling, those hormones aren’t all bad,” Stephen commented.
“Thank goodness you think so. Now hush and kiss me again.”
“Gladly,” he said, pulling her closer and happily doing exactly what she wanted.
Perhaps the third most flattering waistcoat was more flattering than he’d thought. He did always look magnificent in apricot.
*heavy breathing* DRINK. YOUR. WATER. DON'T PISS OFF THE PREGNANT LADY. DON'T DO IT.
BUT I DO NOT WANT TO. I FEEL SO NAUSEOUS.
adele-douglas replied to your post:Charley, I regret to inform you that you do not...
you actually lead a pretty good life…
Except for my father, three brothers, and only son dying prematurely, and my relationship with my mother disintegrates. Also, I am connected with two other presidential assassinations.
Otherwise, it seems good.