saturday night

“What?! Don’t be a fucking liar, alright? Don’t say shit like that,” He reached up, pushing some hair back from his face. “I’ll kill him if you’re serious.”

Anthony had just finished preparing and adding the final touches to his Thanksgiving dinner. The girls hadn’t helped much, instead opting to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. He’d invited Tatum, though he wasn’t sure she’d actually show up - did she have other plans? Would she avoid him just to spite him? He didn’t know. He just wished she’d come. As he started putting things on the dining room table, spreading out each dish down the long stretch of table, he heard the doorbell ring. Amelie had gotten up to get it, but he pushed her aside to run to the door, apron still hanging from his neck and tied around his waist. “Hey!” He grinned as he opened the door. “I was hoping you’d show up.”

tahliablanche‌:

Dare Event: Tahlia, Derek @kinguehara, and Anthony @anthdeluca Location: Room of Mirrors 

The only saving grace about this new hurdle that Prometheus was tossing her way was that she didn’t have to wait all day to figure out what was going to happen to her. Having watched the rounds before her own, Tahlia at least had an idea of what game they’d be playing. Name of the game? Try not to lose your self respect before you can escape the room of horrors. 

Along with two other people, one a young actor and the other an older male that she didn’t recognize, she was shuffled into a room that was floor to ceiling mirrors. It was reminiscent of an old ballet studio, minus the bar and toss in a whole lot of creepy. Counters on the wall held what she guessed was their point totals. There were ornate looking tarot cards spread out on a table near one of the far walls and she walked over to examine them. “Do you have a preference of who goes first or would you like to choose a card and then we can decide who wants the dare?”  

“I can go first,” Derek replied. He was so fucking nervous. He’d hoped that he would be in the room with one of his friends or co-stars. Literally anyone. It’s not that he doesn’t like Anthony, of course he does, but the man isn’t exactly a comforting presence. He doesn’t even know Tahlia.

Whatever assholes got Joseph for their sponsor had no idea how lucky they were.

Derek pulled the card off the table and read off of it. “Lick the feet of someone in the room.” Derek’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Okay, yeah, no. I will give up 40 points, actually. Not that I’m not sure you both have immaculate feet, but, uh–” Derek frowned. “I would rather stab myself.”

Anthony stood in the center of the room, watching his two charges interact. He didn’t know Tahlia, but he did know Derek and he loved the poor kid to death. It was unfortunate that they got stuck together, because he knew he wasn’t exactly the kindest or most comforting person to be around. “Disgusting. No feet.” He shook his head, taking the card from Derek and tossing it across the room, sending the spinning card to land on the floor. 

ew. like she wanted to be covered in a stranger’s blood–who knows what diseases and nasty shit they could’ve had. “yeah, no thanks.” that was really tatum’s only objection to the idea, it wasn’t that she was concerned how anthony may have gotten the blood or anything lame like that. tatum raises a brow once he mentions he doesn’t care for the suit, deciding to take it a step-further than a few sticky red stains. “just about anything, huh?” she repeats, her hands slinking from around his neck to the front of his chest. suddenly she grasps tightly on either side of his shirt, pulling it apart and making a few of the buttons pop. she laughs, leaning forward into him for a kiss, using a hand to un-do the velcro strap that had been keeping her costume secure. she tossed the fabric onto the floor, feeling anthony’s own hands exploring her skin, causing her to shudder slightly into his touch. god, they were going to make such a mess of this place. she should probably mention to him that she hadn’t bothered to lock the door, but the possibility of someone walking in on them only made it funner. 

tatum rolled her eyes, elbowing him gently. “i didn’t even get her name. i was more worried about her banging my cousin than trying to flirt.” she assured him, though sarcastically. after he agreed with her plan, tatum tugged on his sleeve and pulled him through the house with her. they passed a few other party goers, but as long as cooper and ant didn’t catch them tatum figured no one would really care. at the top of the stairs she spotted several closed doors, picking one at random and finding a bedroom that seemed fairly unused. had to be a guest room, which is what she’d been going for. she shut the door behind them, pushing anthony down on the bed and then sitting on his lap with one leg on either side of him. “i may have drank like, just a little bit too much.” she admitted with a laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck. after a moment she frowned a little, “i’m gonna ruin your suit with all this fake blood.” her costume was just a wig and a blood covered towel, considering julia levitt had attempted a hasty drive-way escape. 

oh, but there was a solution to the problem. there wasn’t much blood underneath the towel. or, really, anything, besides the pair of black panties she was wearing. 

At this point, Anthony didn’t really care if one of his suits got messed up from the fake blood. No big deal, it wasn’t like he didn’t have a few others at home, and besides it was kind of hot seeing Tatum covered in all that blood - if he had to get covered in it to see her that way then so be it. As she climbed on top of him, he stretched his legs out and spread them a bit, just enough to keep her trapped there with his legs between hers. “You mean to tell me that, that’s not real blood? We could have solved that problem and got you the real stuff if you’d asked.” He said with a wink, not quite sure whether he wanted her to believe he was serious or not. Hell, he didn’t even know if he was serious. But if she asked him for something, for anything, then her wish was his command. “I don’t care if you ruin my suit - dry cleaning can fix just about anything,” He flashed her a grin. “But I’d like to see you without that towel anyway.”

in response, tatum only gave a coy smile; one that confirmed she was up to no good and enjoying it very much. her expression turned thoughtful at his question, leaning into his chest as she decided on an answer. “mmm, i guess i can play nice for now.” she raised her hand, offering the pen she’d been using out to him as a symbol of her trust. “having fun? i mean, it’s kinda lame, but.. it hasn’t felt like a waste of a night. i found out tomas has a friend. and, she’s pretty hot.” she was still dealing with the strangeness of that revelation. the party had been tame, but tatum had kinda enjoyed it. it was surprisingly nice to just.. slow down for once. between the camming and her job, it was always go, go, go. almost not a minute to catch her fucking breath these days. she pulled herself off of him, instead leaning against the donation table and biting her lip at the very naughty thought that had just crossed her mind. the was a slight blush to her cheeks as she asked the question, her hand fingers playfully crawling over anthony’s chest. “wanna go sneak upstairs?”

Anthony took the pen from her and flashed her a grin before leaning down to set his check on the table. He filled it out, hoping that the amount he’d written in was more than enough to please Tatum, and signed his name before dropping it into the basket. “Oh, really?” His face flashed jealousy, something that wasn’t common for him, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want anyone near Tatum - boy, girl, neither, whatever - he wanted to make it clear that she was his and no one else’s. But that was hard, considering her job, and considering that she didn’t take his gestures of wanting commitment seriously. “I don’t know that I like the idea of hot friends hanging around.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, not wanting to push it any further with comments that shouldn’t be made since Tatum was a free woman and wasn’t his to control. “Do I?” His brows rose, a grin spreading across his lips. “Of course I’d like to sneak upstairs. Lead the way.”

tatum was quick to find a way to entertain herself at the party, standing beside a small table the hosts had set out for guests to drop off their donations–if they chose to do so. she was all smiles and ‘let me help you’s, taking checks and adding a few zeros to them before dropping them in the collection basket. she waited for the latest do-goder to walk away, picking up a check and clicking her tongue. “$100? really? what an asshole.” she took a pen an added two more zeros, folding the check with a smile and putting it in the basket. tatum’s interest had only really taken hold when she realized one of the choice charities was the trevor project–a suicide hotline for queer kids. something that felt pretty fuckin personal to tatum.

Anthony hadn’t particularly wanted to come to this party, but he also didn’t want to lose sight of Tatum for too long. He was on the warpath with her again, not wanting anyone else touching her or bothering her or anything else - she was his and, whether she knew it or not. “What are you doing, little girl?” He walked up behind her, brows raised as he watched her make changes to the check before dropping it in the basket. Not that he cared what kind of shenanigans she was getting into, as long as his check wasn’t going to be tampered with, but he was nosy anyway. Upon hearing about her costume, he’d decided to coordinate - he’d decided to be Cyrus, wearing a suit with a few spots of blood on him, as well as having a pistol holstered at his side. Was it tasteful? No. Did he care? Not particularly. Whatever made Tatum happy. “Are you gonna change my check or trust me enough to give a decent amount?”

tatum was always a little suspicious when anthony asked her on a proper date. she couldn’t help it, she knew him too well. knew he was going to say something stupid at some point or another and make her wish she hadn’t come out in the first place. of course, anthony was a client before anything else, and she couldn’t exactly turn him down. she arrived in a black halterneck dress, a slit up the leg that revealed more than enough skin. most of her clients liked to see her well-dressed, and prometheus was always quick to ensure that happened. maybe her labels weren’t always designer, but no one could say that she didn’t look damn good. the hostess led tatum to anthony’s table and she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. “did i keep you waiting?” not that she really cared. tatum sat down, scooting her chair closer to him. “you look a little glum, sugar plum.”

Anthony knew that Tatum was sure to be suspicious. It had been a hot minute since he’d been out of his house, let alone on a date. He’d gone through a bit of a depression, where he’d focused solely on work and nothing else. That, he was sure, had put a damper on his relationship with Tatum. At this point, he just wanted to make things right and let her know that he wasn’t disappearing on her completely. He’d just... Needed a break. Some alone time to sort his shit out and get it together. Now that he was back to his usual self, he was feeling good and needed to see her. “You look beautiful.” He said simply, a smile on his lips when she kissed his cheek. Times like this were what he loved the most. It wasn’t just about the sex, or the times they spent together at the house - he wanted something like this, something that seemed real, that was real. “No, no, I’m alright,” He shook his head, reaching over to place his hand on her thigh. “Just been missing you, that’s all. I’m glad you came.”

Anthony had taken a break. His children were away with his parents back home and he was extremely grateful that his mom and dad had been willing to take them in for a while. Frankly, they got on his nerves and he felt like they were ruining his life. But he wasn’t going to say that to the kids and make them feel some type of way, he didn’t want to make them feel bad, he just wanted to be rid of them for a while. While he still had a week or two before the kids came back, he decided it was time to see Tatum. It had been a hot minute and he’d tried to text her on and off to keep in touch, but seeing her hadn’t been his top priority until now. Now, though? Now he was ready to see her and keep her with him for a couple of days, or as long as she’d let him. He pulled up to their arranged meeting place, some restaurant he’d been to a million times, and went inside, making sure to inform the hostess that his guest would be arriving soon before being led to a booth near the back where it was quiet, waiting for Tatum to arrive.

at his comment on missing her, tatum raised a brow in suspicion. sure, they had fun. but tatum wasn’t dumb enough to think that anthony actually cared about her. she wasn’t his type–not the kind of girl he’d ever seriously consider shacking up with. that was fine with her. what wasn’t fine with her, though, was when he said things like this; when he tried to convince her that what they did was anything but passing time together. “not enough to text, apparently.” she replied, not bothering to hide the bite in her words. 

she looked up at him, a rare moment of seriousness. “look you don’t have to apologize. you don’t–owe me that, or anything. we have fun. that’s all this is, right?” tatum let him off the hook, burying her face back into his chest to get away from the topic. they had sex, occasionally coupled with take-out and a movie. anthony even took her as his date to prometheus events sometimes ( she assumed, when he couldn’t find anyone else ). but that was about it. they didn’t go to dinner, didn’t mingle with other couples. because they weren’t one. 

Anthony hated how his feelings got to him sometimes. He let himself get too attached to people, let himself get too close, and if they turned him away or cut him off it hurt. He wasn’t in love with Tatum or anything ridiculous like that, but he did have feelings for her. In the past they’d saw each other fairly often, only recently having a dry patch, and he missed that. Spending time with someone, having special moments with them, made it easy for him to muster up some kind of feelings for the girl. Whatever his feelings were, though, he decided it was best to swallow them down for now and keep them at bay. “I just got signed on to a new project, Tatum, I’ve been busy. I haven’t even had time to piss in peace.” He defended, not wanting to make excuses but wanting to get it out there that he was really that busy. 

He looked down at her, shaking his head. “I do owe you that. I owe you an apology for putting you on the back burner. I shouldn’t have done that.” He didn’t want to answer the question, whether all they had was fun between them. There were a million things he could have said but he settled on avoiding the question all together. “I don’t want to make you feel any kind of way because I get busy sometimes, y’know? I mean it, I’m sorry for avoiding you. I won’t do it again, little girl.” Anthony leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and rubbing her back. 

“That’s so nice!” Her enthusiasm was genuine. The touches of home were sparse in her own mother’s life. It just simply wasn’t a part of their relationship, seeing it in other people was so warming. His apron was good as a scrapbook, a sweet little reminder that he came from somewhere and that someone cared about him. Her own recollection of home cooked meals was sparse at best, neither of her parents ever needed to expend the energy when there was a chef a phone call away. Her father wasn’t opposed to throwing in a pan of lasagna in when the mood struck him, but it was never a high priority. 

The scene Anthony set was cozy enough to set the smile on her face; welcoming despite her faux paux. “My friend has a concert. It totally slipped my mind.” Or maybe she hadn’t been told on purpose, some deliberate test. That likely wasn’t the case, Bobby and Madison weren’t the one with the problem. For that alone, she would be happy to move around her schedule. “I promise I’m usually better with deadlines.” Lest her sudden change of plans reflect something about her work, she didn’t want Anthony to think any less of her. “For the next time we see each other.” She nodded along, it seemed to be a given to her, that they’d be spending more and more time together as the project wore on. It was a learning experience, and one that she hoped to come out of with enough to make her next film even better. 

She was already beyond happy that he’d accepted her in to the crew with such open arms, it would have been so easy to dismiss the new writer and send her back home. He was kind, thoughtful, understanding. “I know how important work is, but friends have to be important too—you know?”

Anthony had grown up in a homey environment, even if the people in it weren’t the best. He was the oldest of six kids and had always been expected to help out with the younger ones, even though his father was afraid it would turn him into a sissy. He didn’t mind it, but finding time for himself between helping around the house, school, and sports was difficult. That was probably a part of why he was the way he is now, the lack of a sense of self. He wanted to find himself through other people. His parents, both of them, had been abusive and continued to take their rage out on him and their other children until he’d moved out of state, but his mother was kind and compassionate when she wanted to be. When she wasn’t raging about one thing or another, she was spending time teaching her eldest son how to cook and fold clothes, how to iron and clean house. She wanted him to be self-sufficient. That was the only homey part of his childhood.

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it, Ingrid, really. What kind of concert is it?” He was curious, wanting to know what could possibly be more important than spending time with him. He was self centered in that way - he wanted the focus to be on him, to be the priority, something he’d never gotten as a child. “We can do this again sometime when you won’t be rushed, hmm? Whenever is good for you - if you’d like to go to the beach and have a picnic sometime, we could even do that.” He wanted to play into her interests, do whatever it was she found relaxing and appealing. 

He went to the kitchen and grabbed his corkscrew so he could open the bottle of wine. Going back to the dining room, Anthony set it down before going around the table and pulling out a chair for Ingrid. “Have a seat,” He said with a smile, motioning for her to sit down. “I made a variety of things since I didn’t know what you’d be into. The lasagna is the best, in my opinion, but you’re welcome to try everything if you’d prefer to go that route.”

Anthony had decided to call Audrey up so they could meet for lunch. He was trying to meet all of his cast members and work with them closely, but he did have his concerns about her. Where they were rooted or why he had them, he didn’t know, but he wondered how she would do as a replacement for the late Catherine James. 

Sitting in the restaurant in a corner that was barely lit, he waited for his guest to be escorted to him. When he saw the hostess approaching with Audrey in tow, Anthony stood up and pulled out a chair for her to sit in. “Thank you for meeting with me, Audrey,” He said with a smile, waiting for her to get situated. “I appreciate it.”

anthony liked having his ego stroked–among other things. tatum could play along with ease, nesteling against him and lightly scratching the hair on his beard. she liked his beard–always whined when he inevitably shaved it. “did ya grow that out just for me?” she teased as he leaned down to pepper her neck with kisses, her hand dropping to grip his shirt tightly as she waited for the bite that was surely coming. a genuine moan escaped her lips at the feel of anthony biting down on her neck, her body squirming slightly against him. "well unless you take me home and fuck me, now, i’m gonna be pretty far from happy.” tatum assured him, abandoning any other plans today in lieu of the several-hour fuck session that was now in place.  

leaning forward, tatum got close enough to the front to talk to the driver. “change of plans. we’re both going to his place.” there was no attempt made at hiding what they were going to do, giving the guy a small pat on the head before settling back into the seat.

“your kids aren’t home this time, are they? you know i don’t like having to be quiet.” 

Anthony loved everything Tatum did for him. She stroked his ego, she kept him happy, his needs and desires never seemed to push her limits too much. In return he paid well, took her out to dinner from time to time, cooked for her, whatever she wanted. As much as he hated to admit it, someone actually had him wrapped around their finger. “Mm, sure,” He reached up, scratching his chin where the beard tended to irritate him a bit, but he hadn’t felt like shaving it lately and since fall was coming it was time to grow it out and leave it alone for a while. “Luckily for you, it’s starting to be beard season so the beard stays for a while now. Few months, at least.” Winter and fall saw the rise and fall of the beard, but once spring came it was time for it to be shaved yet again. An endless cycle, he supposed.

Once the change of plans had been told to the driver, Anth leaned back in his seat and pulled Tatum in closer, leaning over to kiss the side of her head. “You know how much I’ve missed you?” He asked, looking down at her with raised brows. “It’s been a minute. I’m sorry for being so busy,” Reaching up, he combed a hand through her hair gently. “No, the girls aren’t home. They’re with the babysitter.”

“Hi!” She held a bottle of wine in her hands, plucked at random from her father’s cellar. It felt like the right, adult, gift to bring to a dinner. She couldn’t show up empty handed, not after she’d demanded that he change his schedule for her. And the note had been so nice; she still wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she was the last one to spit in the face of kindness. “Of course I came, sorry for the last minute request!” Even if her and Tommy weren’t exactly on speaking terms, she couldn’t hold that against a Bobby Cost event.

“The apron is great!” She pointed, as if it wasn’t obvious that he’d had it on. It was a good touch, a little extra dash of home. “And your house is so nice!” Her frame of reference was skewed to say the least, mansion to mansion, each one with its sprawling layouts and modern art. How it compared to a normal house, she could only pretend to understand. Compliments were always the best place to start, she knew that much about dinners. And she so desperately wanted to befriend Anthony, to get along with her director. “I‘m usually not such a bad planner, it means a lot.”

Anthony stepped out of the way to let Ingrid in before shutting the door behind her, making sure to lock it up to avoid any unwelcome guests. Unwelcome guests could be anyone from his children, to Tatum, to friends, to any dumbass he’d met while drunk and had invited them over whenever they wanted. Either way, he didn’t want anyone coming in while he was trying to wine and dine Ingrid. “Oh, no, it’s totally okay! Six is just my usual dinner time, but that’s always flexible for you. So, what came up that made you have to change things up?” He asked lightly, genuinely curious but not wanting to be demanding or start anything over it.

“Pretty sure the apron was my mom’s at some point,” He said with a laugh, turning to walk back into the kitchen and motioning for Ingrid to follow. “She sent me with a million things when I moved out here and I’ve yet to go through it all.” It had been years, but he still had a box in a closet that had shit in it that she’d given him, things Donna was so sure that her son would need. He didn’t like using things of hers, but he also wasn’t going to go out and buy an apron for himself, either. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s totally okay, I understand. You can make up for it by seeing me again.”

Anthony had spent most of his afternoon preparing for dinner that evening. Whether Ingrid would actually show up or not was up for debate, but he had a feeling that she would even if it was just to appease him. Either way, he’d sent the children off to the babysitter and had been cooking for hours now - he wanted to have options available, not knowing what she liked to eat. He’d made a lasagna, chicken parmigiana, caprese salad, and had a freshly cut loaf of Italian bread with a classic olive oil dip. Thanks to his mother, and being the eldest child in his family, he’d grown up learning how to cook and at this moment he was thankful for that. Fuck fast food, home cooking was where it’s at.

With everything set out on the dining room table, he waited for his guest to arrive. He still had his apron on when he heard the doorbell ring, but didn’t bother with taking it off. Instead, he washed his hands, wiped them dry on the apron, and went to the door. “Hey,” He said as he opened the door, a grin spreading across his lips. “I’m glad you came.”