existencemisspent: (that doesn't make sense)
[personal profile] existencemisspent
Eliot stood in the kitchen window, watching the marshmallow snow and enjoying a hot cup of coffee. And a sense of nearly overwhelming deja vu.

"Seriously," he muttered. "I thought these things were meant to change every day."

The oven timer dinged. Eliot frowned at it, then looked over at the stairs.

"Really, Bambi? Leftover pizza for breakfast two days in a row?"

[open!]

(no subject)

Date: 2021-12-18 03:43 pm (UTC)
not_a_goddamn_princess: (eyepatch: quiet certainty)
From: [personal profile] not_a_goddamn_princess
“No?” Margo said, brushing her hair on her way down the stairs. “. . . Oh right, I forgot I left yesterday’s leftovers in there, shit.”
Edited Date: 2021-12-18 03:43 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2021-12-18 03:58 pm (UTC)
not_a_goddamn_princess: (eyepatch: angry shocked)
From: [personal profile] not_a_goddamn_princess
“You don’t get to shame me for leftovers, your own are in the fucking fridge,” Margo said, staring at him as her hand slowed. “And no, of course not.”

(no subject)

Date: 2021-12-18 04:07 pm (UTC)
not_a_goddamn_princess: (eyepatch: you think that's clever)
From: [personal profile] not_a_goddamn_princess
“Jesus christ, how much were you drinking last night?” Margo asked, strolling briskly past him to get her breakfast.

(no subject)

Date: 2021-12-18 04:27 pm (UTC)
not_a_goddamn_princess: (eyepatch: glaring with one eye)
From: [personal profile] not_a_goddamn_princess
Margo opened up the oven door. “Friday, you dick. Sit down, I’ll get you the hangover cure.”

(no subject)

Date: 2021-12-18 04:30 pm (UTC)
not_a_goddamn_princess: (eyes x el: old jaded sophisticates)
From: [personal profile] not_a_goddamn_princess
“What?” Margo retreated from the oven with her plate. “. . . fuck, tell me we haven’t been Chatwinned again.”

(no subject)

Date: 2021-12-18 04:33 pm (UTC)
not_a_goddamn_princess: (eyepatch: sus)
From: [personal profile] not_a_goddamn_princess
“And why the fuck do I think it’s Friday and you don’t?” Margo asked. “. . . no, don’t answer that, I need a bite to eat.”

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existencemisspent: (Default)
Eliot Waugh

September 2025

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