The good news
Nothing too disturbing on the 6 months oncology appt (6 months already?!?) other than the dissolvable sutures haven't....um, okay should I be concerned (at least parts aren't gonna fall out I guess...) The pain I'm having is a pinched nerve because sure why not.
So I'm doing getyourwordsout's Yahtzee challenge and my first story (unposted) was 3K and I'm lamenting and rolling around weeping but now if I do my favorite challenge (the actual Yahtzee which is 5 stories, all the same character all the same LENGTH)
Me: now they all have to be this long (because I can't see cutting this story
Also Me: Oh, it's Angel Dust's birthday let me write him a story and barf out a nearly 2K story in an hour (so really why am I worrying??)
Speaking of which for Music Monday (so I don't have to think hard today because it was a hot sleepless night and I SO didn't want to go to work today) have Vivziepop's only celebration for her character, a remix of Angel Dust's signature song, Poison. I'm not sure it does a lot to improve it but there are super creepy voice overs by Valentino in it so that makes it interesting.
Have the story I wrote for Angel's birthday
Title: Buon cibo. Buon vino. Buon amici (AO3)
author: cornerofmadness
Summary: After a day of being annoyed by Alastor, Husk goes to the kitchen for a late dinner. He was utterly unprepared for what he finds.
Rating: teen
Notes: Written for Angel’s birthday and for the allbingo prompt onions. Let’s pretend for the sake of the story, Angel was able to gather some of the ingredients he needed to in spite of being in hell. The song Angel is singing is Vivere by Carlo Buti. The English lyrics are Dare to live, until the very last
Dare to live, forget about the past
Dare to live, giving something of yourself to others
Even when it seems there's nothing more left to give
You can give the song a listen here.
Buon cibo. Buon vino. Buon amici (Good Food, Good Wine, Good Friends - Italian saying)
Husk dragged toward the kitchen. It had been a long day with Niffty nearly breaking everything on the bar thanks to her never ending ‘bugs must die’ quest and with Alastor purposely haunting the bar area but never actually saying anything. It had been to get under Husk’s skin and damned if it didn’t work. At least the rest of the crew had been absent. Still, dinner time had come and gone and finally so had Alastor so Husk went in search of food.
His nose twitched and he sniffed the air. What the hell smelled so good? Niffty did a lot of the cooking for the hotel but it rarely smelled like this. Fuck, my mouth is actually watering.
He picked up the pace only to stop dead in the kitchen doorway. What was he actually seeing? Angel Dust the porn star extraordinaire - to hear him tell it, not to mention all the damn movie posters plastered around hell - was wearing a pink frilly apron and was in front of the stove cooking. His stupid pig was snuffling around the kitchen walls, looking for goodies. It was a scene Husk couldn’t have imagined, especially not with all six of Angel’s arms in evidence and being busy. He was singing a song Husk hadn’t heard since he was a young man.
Vivere, nessuno mai ce l'ha insegnato
Vivere, non si può vivere senza passato
Vivere è bello anche se non l'hai chiesto mai
Una canzone ci sarà, qualcuno che la canter
“What are you doing?”
Angel jumped. A wooden spoon went flying and his pig was on it in a heartbeat. Angel narrowed his eyes. “What’s it look like? I’m cooking.”
“That’s why the weirdness is happening in my head. I’ve never seen you do more than drag yourself to my bar and flop down there, bitching about your long day.” And stinking like other men and jizz in spite of Husk knowing Angel had tried to clean up at the studio.
Angel shrugged all his shoulders and went back to work. “I had the day off. I’m treating myself. I can’t get the meal quite right, it being hell and all.”
Husk closed the distance and peered into the pan. Angel was caramelizing onions in one skillet and stirring up what looked like garlic and sausage in another. “Didn’t know you cooked.”
“Like I said, you don’t know me. I’m good at stuff other than sex.” Angel smirked and pointed to the counter. “Hand me those tomatoes.”
Husk turned them over and Angel dumped them into a third, much larger skillet. After they sizzled for a moment, he added the onion pan and the sausage pan, giving it a satisfied nod.
“There, once that comes together, I’ll drop the ravioli.”
“Where the hell did you find ravioli in hell?” Husk widened his eyes.
Angel laughed, gesturing to the table. “I made them. My nonna taught me.”
Husk shook his head. “Nope, can’t imagine it. You’re always such a mess.”
Angel shot him a dirty look. “Leccami il culo.”
He snorted. “You’d enjoy it far too much if I licked your ass.”
Angel’s entire face lit up. “Parli italiano?”
“Sì.” Husk leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Who would have imagined that?”
“I’ll parrot your words right back to you. You don’t know me. I speak several languages. One of the guys I worked when I was young was Italian,” Husk replied.
“A magician?” The canny look in Angel’s eyes suggested he was half sure he was right and half excited to get a little of Husk’s history.
No need to disappoint him so he nodded. “Yeah. Good guy, really. I learned a lot from that old man.”
“Show me some time,” Angel said, doing another double handed stir of his pots.
Husk cocked up his ridiculous feathery eyebrow. Angel rarely showed any real interest in anything beyond tromping all over everyone’s boundaries. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to.” Angel’s shoulders slumped, the wooden spoons stopping their stirs. “Don’t tell the others but today is my birthday. I didn’t want anyone making a big deal, and you know Charlie would.”
Husk gave another snort. “Definitely. So, it’s a birthday feast.”
Angel nodded, lifting one sauce spoon to his lips. He gave it a tentative taste while offering Husk one himself with another spoon. He wasn’t going to disappoint the birthday boy. He braced himself for the potential awfulness. His eyes popped open when he sampled it.
“Damn, this is good. Should put you on kitchen duty.”
Angel smiled. “Only if someone buys out my contract with Valentino. I’m too damn tired most days to cook too. By the way, why did you come to the kitchen?”
“I was too busy doing a stare down with Alastor and missed dinner. I was gonna grab something.”
“Join me.” Angel gestured to the work table in the center of the large kitchen.
“You sure?”
“I made plenty, too much really.” Angel lifted the tray of ravioli off the table and started easing them into the boiling vat of water.
“An Italian overcooking, unheard of.”
“Stronzo!” Angel chuckled.
Wasn’t the first time - even today - he’d been called an asshole. Husk fetched some plates for them. “What’s the sweet thing I smell and if you say you, I’m forgetting it’s your birthday.”
Angel wiggled his hips at Husk with a smirk. “That reminds me. Time to get the torta di mele out of the oven.”
“Where did you find apples?”
“That was easy. I told Charlie I liked fruit and could she maybe get some for the hotel. She asked daddy dearest. You know how our Short King wants his daughter’s approval. But probably the less said about Lucifer’s apples the better.” Angel opened the oven and extracted the torta di mele. Husk nearly drooled.
“We’re already in hell, Angel. I doubt it’ll get worse if we eat those.”
“True. Better question is where I got sausage for the ravioli sauce. Smiles came through on that.”
“Speaking of the less said the better.”
Angel nodded. After a few minutes he spidered up the floating ravioli. He plated them with the sauce and joined Husk at the table. Husk dug in eagerly based just on the sauce he’d tested. He groaned at the burst of flavor from the well filled ravioli.
“Must be my birthday. I got a moan of pleasure out of you at last.” Angel danced his eyebrows at Husk.
“Don’t you fucking start.” He stabbed a fork at Angel, and then decided the better use of it was to shovel more ravioli into his mouth. “This is absolutely fantastic.”
“Grazie.”
“Prego. Your nonna taught you this?”
“Her and Mama. Oh crap, forgot something. Mangia!” Angel swung out of his seat and grabbed a bottle of wine and some glasses.
“Hey, is that from my bar? How did you get it?”
“When you were staring down Alastor earlier. You didn’t even notice me.” Angel poured two glasses.
“And it’s some of my best stuff!” How the hell had he missed a giant spider snaring something from right under his nose? He really must have been deep into his own head, watching Alastor.
“Naturally.” Angel raised his glass toward the ceiling. “Buon compleanno, Molly.”
Husk cocked his head quizzically as he drank.
“Have I mentioned I’m a twin?”
He was so glad he’d downed the drink so he didn’t spit take all over Angel. “There are more of you?”
Angel made a face at him. “Yes, my twin sister, Molly.”
“Have I…seen her?” Husk wondered what the chances were two of them were in hell.
“No, as far as I know, Molly didn’t end up here. My older brother and dad are though. You might have seen my brother, black-grey spider somewhere between Niffty and Vaggie in a total lack of height.” Angel shrugged. “And worse, Arackniss, what my brother is calling himself these days, has learned I’m at the hotel. He sent me a bunch of vibrating vaginas for my birthday. I snuck them into Vaggie’s stuff.”
“She is going to end you for real.” Husk smothered a snicker by stuffing another ravioli into his mouth.
“Only if she knows it was me.”
“Who the hell else would do that?”
“Fair point.” Angel squeezed the filling out of two ravioli.
“What are you doing?”
He flung the two empty shells to his pig. “I know pigs can be cannibalistic but I didn’t want Fat Nuggets eating the sausage because he’s such a good boy.”
“If Alastor hooked you up with the sausages, I think it’s more likely we’re the cannibals at this table.”
“Then we’re damned delicious.” Angel all but inhaled another ravioli. “That was so bad. I deserve to be here.”
“Yeah, well, do you hear me disagreeing? You can cook for me any time you’re in the mood, Angel.”
“No problem. I enjoy it.” He stood and brought over the torta di mele and a knife to cut it. “Dessert?”
“Always.”
“A man after my own heart.” Angel sliced the cake.
“I should do something nice for your birthday.”
“We can always revisit the idea of you licking my ass.” Angel smirked with a suggestive wiggle.
“If you’re going to start with your bullshit, you can spend your birthday alone with your pig,” Husk warned and Angel’s smirk only grew. “It should come as no surprise but I make a mean cocktail. I have something you would probably like.”
“A slow comfortable screw?”
Goddamn, he was such a little shit…long, tall shit, whatever. “And now you’re sharing dessert with Alastor. Let me go get him.”
“Fine, be that way. What did you have in mind?” Angel took the threat seriously.
“A pink squirrel and if you tell anyone I made you a frou-frou pink drink I will drench you in sauce and toss you out in Cannibal Town.”
“Getting even kinkier, Whiskers.” Angel shot him a shit-eating grin and Husk’s eyes twitched as he suppressed the urge to make a spider-rug out of Angel’s hide. “Your secret is safe with me. Pink’s my favorite color and I’d love a cocktail or twenty.”
“Done but not until I finish this apple cake.” Husk savored his first bite. Maybe Angel should gift a slice or two to Lucifer. The king of hell might just break Valentino’s contract on the promise of more of Angel’s food. He reached across the table and patted Angel’s arm. “Happy birthday, Angel.”
The answering smile was warm, genuine, a touch sad too. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”
“Anytime,” he replied, surprised he meant that. He hadn’t come to this hotel intending on finding people he liked to be with but here he was, having cake and soon to be cocktails. It felt like home, like something he had barely ever had. The afterlife was suddenly good.
So I'm doing getyourwordsout's Yahtzee challenge and my first story (unposted) was 3K and I'm lamenting and rolling around weeping but now if I do my favorite challenge (the actual Yahtzee which is 5 stories, all the same character all the same LENGTH)
Me: now they all have to be this long (because I can't see cutting this story
Also Me: Oh, it's Angel Dust's birthday let me write him a story and barf out a nearly 2K story in an hour (so really why am I worrying??)
Speaking of which for Music Monday (so I don't have to think hard today because it was a hot sleepless night and I SO didn't want to go to work today) have Vivziepop's only celebration for her character, a remix of Angel Dust's signature song, Poison. I'm not sure it does a lot to improve it but there are super creepy voice overs by Valentino in it so that makes it interesting.
Click to viewHave the story I wrote for Angel's birthday
Title: Buon cibo. Buon vino. Buon amici (AO3)
author: cornerofmadness
Summary: After a day of being annoyed by Alastor, Husk goes to the kitchen for a late dinner. He was utterly unprepared for what he finds.
Rating: teen
Notes: Written for Angel’s birthday and for the allbingo prompt onions. Let’s pretend for the sake of the story, Angel was able to gather some of the ingredients he needed to in spite of being in hell. The song Angel is singing is Vivere by Carlo Buti. The English lyrics are Dare to live, until the very last
Dare to live, forget about the past
Dare to live, giving something of yourself to others
Even when it seems there's nothing more left to give
You can give the song a listen here.
Buon cibo. Buon vino. Buon amici (Good Food, Good Wine, Good Friends - Italian saying)
Husk dragged toward the kitchen. It had been a long day with Niffty nearly breaking everything on the bar thanks to her never ending ‘bugs must die’ quest and with Alastor purposely haunting the bar area but never actually saying anything. It had been to get under Husk’s skin and damned if it didn’t work. At least the rest of the crew had been absent. Still, dinner time had come and gone and finally so had Alastor so Husk went in search of food.
His nose twitched and he sniffed the air. What the hell smelled so good? Niffty did a lot of the cooking for the hotel but it rarely smelled like this. Fuck, my mouth is actually watering.
He picked up the pace only to stop dead in the kitchen doorway. What was he actually seeing? Angel Dust the porn star extraordinaire - to hear him tell it, not to mention all the damn movie posters plastered around hell - was wearing a pink frilly apron and was in front of the stove cooking. His stupid pig was snuffling around the kitchen walls, looking for goodies. It was a scene Husk couldn’t have imagined, especially not with all six of Angel’s arms in evidence and being busy. He was singing a song Husk hadn’t heard since he was a young man.
Vivere, nessuno mai ce l'ha insegnato
Vivere, non si può vivere senza passato
Vivere è bello anche se non l'hai chiesto mai
Una canzone ci sarà, qualcuno che la canter
“What are you doing?”
Angel jumped. A wooden spoon went flying and his pig was on it in a heartbeat. Angel narrowed his eyes. “What’s it look like? I’m cooking.”
“That’s why the weirdness is happening in my head. I’ve never seen you do more than drag yourself to my bar and flop down there, bitching about your long day.” And stinking like other men and jizz in spite of Husk knowing Angel had tried to clean up at the studio.
Angel shrugged all his shoulders and went back to work. “I had the day off. I’m treating myself. I can’t get the meal quite right, it being hell and all.”
Husk closed the distance and peered into the pan. Angel was caramelizing onions in one skillet and stirring up what looked like garlic and sausage in another. “Didn’t know you cooked.”
“Like I said, you don’t know me. I’m good at stuff other than sex.” Angel smirked and pointed to the counter. “Hand me those tomatoes.”
Husk turned them over and Angel dumped them into a third, much larger skillet. After they sizzled for a moment, he added the onion pan and the sausage pan, giving it a satisfied nod.
“There, once that comes together, I’ll drop the ravioli.”
“Where the hell did you find ravioli in hell?” Husk widened his eyes.
Angel laughed, gesturing to the table. “I made them. My nonna taught me.”
Husk shook his head. “Nope, can’t imagine it. You’re always such a mess.”
Angel shot him a dirty look. “Leccami il culo.”
He snorted. “You’d enjoy it far too much if I licked your ass.”
Angel’s entire face lit up. “Parli italiano?”
“Sì.” Husk leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Who would have imagined that?”
“I’ll parrot your words right back to you. You don’t know me. I speak several languages. One of the guys I worked when I was young was Italian,” Husk replied.
“A magician?” The canny look in Angel’s eyes suggested he was half sure he was right and half excited to get a little of Husk’s history.
No need to disappoint him so he nodded. “Yeah. Good guy, really. I learned a lot from that old man.”
“Show me some time,” Angel said, doing another double handed stir of his pots.
Husk cocked up his ridiculous feathery eyebrow. Angel rarely showed any real interest in anything beyond tromping all over everyone’s boundaries. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to.” Angel’s shoulders slumped, the wooden spoons stopping their stirs. “Don’t tell the others but today is my birthday. I didn’t want anyone making a big deal, and you know Charlie would.”
Husk gave another snort. “Definitely. So, it’s a birthday feast.”
Angel nodded, lifting one sauce spoon to his lips. He gave it a tentative taste while offering Husk one himself with another spoon. He wasn’t going to disappoint the birthday boy. He braced himself for the potential awfulness. His eyes popped open when he sampled it.
“Damn, this is good. Should put you on kitchen duty.”
Angel smiled. “Only if someone buys out my contract with Valentino. I’m too damn tired most days to cook too. By the way, why did you come to the kitchen?”
“I was too busy doing a stare down with Alastor and missed dinner. I was gonna grab something.”
“Join me.” Angel gestured to the work table in the center of the large kitchen.
“You sure?”
“I made plenty, too much really.” Angel lifted the tray of ravioli off the table and started easing them into the boiling vat of water.
“An Italian overcooking, unheard of.”
“Stronzo!” Angel chuckled.
Wasn’t the first time - even today - he’d been called an asshole. Husk fetched some plates for them. “What’s the sweet thing I smell and if you say you, I’m forgetting it’s your birthday.”
Angel wiggled his hips at Husk with a smirk. “That reminds me. Time to get the torta di mele out of the oven.”
“Where did you find apples?”
“That was easy. I told Charlie I liked fruit and could she maybe get some for the hotel. She asked daddy dearest. You know how our Short King wants his daughter’s approval. But probably the less said about Lucifer’s apples the better.” Angel opened the oven and extracted the torta di mele. Husk nearly drooled.
“We’re already in hell, Angel. I doubt it’ll get worse if we eat those.”
“True. Better question is where I got sausage for the ravioli sauce. Smiles came through on that.”
“Speaking of the less said the better.”
Angel nodded. After a few minutes he spidered up the floating ravioli. He plated them with the sauce and joined Husk at the table. Husk dug in eagerly based just on the sauce he’d tested. He groaned at the burst of flavor from the well filled ravioli.
“Must be my birthday. I got a moan of pleasure out of you at last.” Angel danced his eyebrows at Husk.
“Don’t you fucking start.” He stabbed a fork at Angel, and then decided the better use of it was to shovel more ravioli into his mouth. “This is absolutely fantastic.”
“Grazie.”
“Prego. Your nonna taught you this?”
“Her and Mama. Oh crap, forgot something. Mangia!” Angel swung out of his seat and grabbed a bottle of wine and some glasses.
“Hey, is that from my bar? How did you get it?”
“When you were staring down Alastor earlier. You didn’t even notice me.” Angel poured two glasses.
“And it’s some of my best stuff!” How the hell had he missed a giant spider snaring something from right under his nose? He really must have been deep into his own head, watching Alastor.
“Naturally.” Angel raised his glass toward the ceiling. “Buon compleanno, Molly.”
Husk cocked his head quizzically as he drank.
“Have I mentioned I’m a twin?”
He was so glad he’d downed the drink so he didn’t spit take all over Angel. “There are more of you?”
Angel made a face at him. “Yes, my twin sister, Molly.”
“Have I…seen her?” Husk wondered what the chances were two of them were in hell.
“No, as far as I know, Molly didn’t end up here. My older brother and dad are though. You might have seen my brother, black-grey spider somewhere between Niffty and Vaggie in a total lack of height.” Angel shrugged. “And worse, Arackniss, what my brother is calling himself these days, has learned I’m at the hotel. He sent me a bunch of vibrating vaginas for my birthday. I snuck them into Vaggie’s stuff.”
“She is going to end you for real.” Husk smothered a snicker by stuffing another ravioli into his mouth.
“Only if she knows it was me.”
“Who the hell else would do that?”
“Fair point.” Angel squeezed the filling out of two ravioli.
“What are you doing?”
He flung the two empty shells to his pig. “I know pigs can be cannibalistic but I didn’t want Fat Nuggets eating the sausage because he’s such a good boy.”
“If Alastor hooked you up with the sausages, I think it’s more likely we’re the cannibals at this table.”
“Then we’re damned delicious.” Angel all but inhaled another ravioli. “That was so bad. I deserve to be here.”
“Yeah, well, do you hear me disagreeing? You can cook for me any time you’re in the mood, Angel.”
“No problem. I enjoy it.” He stood and brought over the torta di mele and a knife to cut it. “Dessert?”
“Always.”
“A man after my own heart.” Angel sliced the cake.
“I should do something nice for your birthday.”
“We can always revisit the idea of you licking my ass.” Angel smirked with a suggestive wiggle.
“If you’re going to start with your bullshit, you can spend your birthday alone with your pig,” Husk warned and Angel’s smirk only grew. “It should come as no surprise but I make a mean cocktail. I have something you would probably like.”
“A slow comfortable screw?”
Goddamn, he was such a little shit…long, tall shit, whatever. “And now you’re sharing dessert with Alastor. Let me go get him.”
“Fine, be that way. What did you have in mind?” Angel took the threat seriously.
“A pink squirrel and if you tell anyone I made you a frou-frou pink drink I will drench you in sauce and toss you out in Cannibal Town.”
“Getting even kinkier, Whiskers.” Angel shot him a shit-eating grin and Husk’s eyes twitched as he suppressed the urge to make a spider-rug out of Angel’s hide. “Your secret is safe with me. Pink’s my favorite color and I’d love a cocktail or twenty.”
“Done but not until I finish this apple cake.” Husk savored his first bite. Maybe Angel should gift a slice or two to Lucifer. The king of hell might just break Valentino’s contract on the promise of more of Angel’s food. He reached across the table and patted Angel’s arm. “Happy birthday, Angel.”
The answering smile was warm, genuine, a touch sad too. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”
“Anytime,” he replied, surprised he meant that. He hadn’t come to this hotel intending on finding people he liked to be with but here he was, having cake and soon to be cocktails. It felt like home, like something he had barely ever had. The afterlife was suddenly good.