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malina-33 · 9 months

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Single choice

Summary: It’s summer 2022, Nortern Italy, Miles and Alex are on vacation before The Car tour.

And they are happier than ever.

Word count: 3,5k

A/N: I missed the everyday cozy life of their relationship, so I wrote this :) Creative-crisis conversations presented as well, but they don’t take far away from the happy ending. Inspired by "Call me by your name", so for a better atmosphere, I advise you to include this playlist in the background.

Also, English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out to me!

Enjoy these two sweeties💕

The wide shirt's hem fluttered in the warm wind, three buttons at the top were casually undone, and the sleeves were carelessly rolled up to the elbows. Alex, covering his eyes, lay on a soft sun lounger under the shade of the terrace's arches of their small villa in Portofino, stretching out his long legs. His chest rose and fell slowly in sleep, while his hands rested relaxed on the armrests. Silken curls played with the gusts of breeze, but surrendering, they fell onto his face and tickled his nose, causing the man to unconsciously wrinkle it like a child.

Miles couldn't take his eyes off this literally biblical scene. "Taking Al away to the Italian Riviera for two weeks before the tour started was my best decision" the man thought smugly. Only God knew when they would be able to spend such peaceful time alone again, without rushing anywhere and hiding from anyone. And now, leaning against a marble column with his hands folded on his chest, Kane smiled until wrinkles formed around his eyes, unable to believe what he was witnessing. These sprawling palm trees in their backyard, the deafening trills of southern birds, the sweet sea air, and a serene tanned Alex in a milky linen suit, quietly dozing off after lunch - all of this was now accessible only to him, Miles, and he savored every second of this vacation that sometimes seemed surreal, like a calm before the storm. But he persistently pushed away such thoughts, continuing to revel in his own paradise.

They had already spent 10 days here, the first 3 of which they didn't venture beyond their plot on the hill, which offered a breathtaking view of the coast and emerald water. They were lingering in bed for a long time under the biting rays of the sun, plucking mandarins straight from the tree, and listening to vinyl records of Celentano on the veranda in the evenings, intertwining in each other's arms, merging and becoming the one. Then, finally realizing that missing the opportunity to stroll through such picturesque streets would be a crime, they started going out in town under the mountain after the sunset, when the heat subsided and the cicadas began their twilight concert. Every time they ordered a new pasta dish in local restaurants, hoping to try them all, but that was Italy...

In the mornings, they descend to the pebble beach, where Alex could lie for hours, reading books, while Miles were snorkeling in the Ligurian Sea, growing tired of waiting for his lover and retaliating by playfully splashing him with cool droplets. They would play in the water like teenagers, dunking each other or taking turns piggybacking. When the sun would started to scorch their skin, they would go to the local deli for ready-made lasagna with eggplant, always getting a few types of cannoli, new bottle of wine, olives and fruits. They would then retreat to their villa for the rest of the day, either playing the guitar, the only one they brought from their stuffy LA studio, or playing board games (for which Miles constantly called Alex "nonno," while he calmly continued to roll the dice), or falling asleep under the shade of the leafy trees right on the grass.

Miles hadn't laughed so often and so loudly, and more importantly, so genuinely, since their last joint tour. He felt an immense universal joy that was bursting from his chest, causing his cheeks to ache from the ever-present smile on his face. He felt alive next to the dearest and only person who truly understood him, which Alex had been for the past 17 years.

"How have we put up with each other for so long, Milo?" Turner laughed, finishing his glass of semi-sweet red wine.

And Kane replied seriously, capturing his alcohol-glistening gaze: "I no longer know how to live without you, Al."

And it was the absolute truth. They often had conversations like this, but Alex never actually put up with Miles, he did love him. He only put up with being apart from him. And it was always important for both of them to hear this small confession, like a spark of a cricket in the foliage, but a heart-wrenching one, even after a year, or 10, or 20 years of their relationship.

Relationship? Friendship, love, presence by each other's side, support, musical inspirations, passionate desires, care, hurt, forgiveness, kisses, hugs backstage and on stage, touches all over their bodies, eloquent glances, and ending with a single word proposals. That's what their relationship was. And if Miles were offered to never be a musician but to love Alex, he would still agree without any hint of hesitation, somewhere deep inside bitterly realizing that if Alex were faced with such a choice, he would have to think about it.

But at this moment, Miles didn't want to think about it at all, he only wanted to listen to his lover's steady breathing and bask in the fading sunlight with him. Miles walked around the column and silently sat down on the edge of the lounge chair. He lightly ran his hand over Turner's knee, not wanting to disturb, and then traced chiseled fingers slightly higher, along his thigh. However, even these gentle movements made Alex squirm, furrowing his brow and rolling over to the other side.

"Shh, sleep, my dear, I didn't mean to wake you," Miles whispered, soothingly continuing to stroke the man's leg.

"But I'm already awake," mumbled Alex sleepily, opening his eyes and immediately squinting in the bright light.

"What a shame," Kane sang mockingly, secretly delighted by this fact because he had missed Alex during the silence at their villa and mindless wandering through the rooms while he slept in the fresh air, "Will you move over?".

Alex squeezed himself into the corner of the lounge chair, making space as much as the single bed allowed. Miles approached him with a cunning smile, lying on his side, unable to fit his broad shoulders on the mattress even if he was alone, and invitingly opened his palms. Turner simply snorted and muttered something about a smug cat, pressing his back against Miles' contrasting cool chest compared to the scorching heat outside, covering man's hand that rested peacefully on his waist with his own, and intertwining their legs.

"So, you woke me up just to sleep together all cramped up? I don't want to anymore," Alex slowly stroked Miles' wrists, who closed his eyes in pleasure.

"Mmm, I just got bored being alone, you've been sleeping forever!"

"Mi, maybe an hour and a half at most," Turner said in a lecturing tone, turning slightly to give Kane a disapproving look.

"Well, I call that forever. Anyway, since you're already awake, let's think about our plans for the evening," Kane quickly changed the subject, kissing Alex's back of the neck, "I saw a poster for a local concert in the neighboring town. We can rent a scooter to get there, it's just a few kilometers away."

Alex burst out laughing at the last words, turning in his lover's embrace and almost touching noses with him.

"Oh, Kane, you don't even have a driver's license! And the fact that I rode 100 meters on it in a clip means nothing."

"We'll figure it out somehow, it can't be more difficult than tuning a guitar for the first time."

"Well, since I have such an experienced and confident driver, I can't deny myself the pleasure," Turner teased, pouting his lips and furrowing his brows like a college girl.

"Gosh, how cheap that sounds, Al. Those are second-rate tricks from middle school. Did I teach you to flirt like that?" Miles rolled his eyes, hiding a smile in the corners of his mouth.

"No, I think we just fucked right away," Alex retorted, immediately receiving a playful jab in the ribs, "Hey! Am I lying?"

"Do I need to remind you who first put his knee between my legs in the dressing room, huh?" Miles smirked, tucking Alex's overgrown locks behind his ear and stroking his slightly stubbled cheek. He looked angelically peaceful now, despite his unholy words.

"And do you regret it?" Seeing the silent denial, he continued, "Well, neither do I. So you don't need to teach me how to flirt, maestro. If we want to find a free scooter before sunset, we need to start getting ready. I was also planning to take a shower," Alex casually mentioned, slyly avoiding eye contact and running his hand suggestively along Miles' waist.

"Well, that's better already, at least the hints are subtler, but you've lost your touch. I'll have to remind you."

"Oi, you better do it indeed" Turner whispered in his ear. Honestly, he was amused at how they, two grown adults, were behaving as soon as intimacy was mentioned - it was like they were back in 10th grade of the school.

Once he calmed down, he reluctantly slipped out of the warm embrace and gracefully got up from the sun lounger, stretching and rising on tiptoes to better loosen his stiff limbs. Miles settled himself more comfortably, royally occupying the vacant spot and propping his head on his hand, watching Turner's toned body with a hungry gaze. He could do this for hours, knowing every mole, wrinkle, and scar.

"What are you looking at? Trying to find gray hairs?" Unable to withstand his scrutinizing eyes, the frontman softly spoke. Now he had his hands in the pockets, exposing his face to the sun and wind, which cautiously peeked onto the veranda through massive columns. Somewhere far below, the sound of the waves and children's laughter could be heard. Idyllic.

"It's too early for you to worry about that. I just can't get enough of looking at you. Clearly, this lifestyle suits you well, even though I fattened you up a bit, considering you were all skin and bones when you arrived."

"Afraid of breaking me?"

"I am," Miles admitted, not completely sure if he interpreted the question correctly. Turner smiled disarmingingly, the way he only smiled at him, leaned in, still keeping his hands in pockets, and planted a chaste kiss on the man's forehead before disappearing through the door.

"Catch up, or I'll manage without you," Alex said over the shoulder, fully aware that he wouldn't be able to handle anything without Miles. Not in life, not in the shower.

***

Comparing guitar tuning and riding a scooter turned out to be inappropriate, as Miles pointed out rather immodestly, getting behind the wheel, because the second one was elementary. During their short ride along the coast, Alex couldn't stop capturing breathtaking views with his vintage Canon. The peach-colored waves gently licked the shore, competing with each other for ownership of every stone on the beach, while the numerous bushes along the road swayed in the wind.

The neighboring town turned out to be Santa-Margherita-Ligure, welcoming the men with the warm glow of lights strung between each café and the loud Italian laughter that didn't quiet down until late at night. Leaving their mean of transport on the waterfront, they headed towards the main square, where light jazz melodies could already be heard. Ordinary chairs stood right on the historical cobblestones, occupying almost all the space, and a small mobile stage had been set up in the center, where musicians were tuning their instruments.

Taking seats in the corner of the front row, the men waited for the performance to begin.

"Have you forgotten what it's like to be on the other side of the stage?" Miles whispered, his lips almost touching Alex's ear.

"Sometimes I even prefer it here," Turner sadly smiled, "no obligations, masks, rehearsed lines, or unjustified expectations. You just exist in the music without thinking about how to reproduce it. I miss that."

Kane anxiously studied Alex's face from the side, trying to understand if he was speaking in a state of creative melancholy inspired by the upcoming concert or if he was simply revealing his deep pain that had burdened him all this time.

"Hey, I didn't mean to put you into existential ponderings. We can talk about it if it really bothers you, but not now. I purposely brought you here to relax and spend these last days with an empty mind, not to reflect on one careless question"

Miles didn't condemn him, but rather tried to hide his own anxiety behind a feigned admonition. He gently squeezed Alex's hand, caressing his knuckles with his thumb, and warmly smiled, knowing that this was the only support he could offer in public.

"Sorry-sorry-sorry," Alex babbled, running his hands forcefully over his face and organizing his thoughts, "forget about those words, we'll come back to it another time. You can hit me if I utter another sad-philosophical phrase that upsets you tonight."

Miles only laughed at that, patting his friend's knee, and, unable to resist, left an unnoticed kiss on his cheek, indicating that he would never fulfill his request in their lifetime.

Lost in conversations, they hadn't noticed that all the chairs had been taken and the band on stage was counting down seconds until the performance began, tightly gripping their bows in their hands. The increasingly suspenseful sound of the violin filled the entire square, eliciting sudden shivers from the audience and instantly isolating them from the rest of the world. Alex's full attention was now focused on the five people on stage, the sound that seemed to exist right in his head, and the melting night air. Rarely could he simply enjoy the melody without trying to dissect it into notes or analyze the lyrics.

Miles usually smoothed out the crease between his eyebrows that arose from such contemplation with a kiss, and he was ready to do it now, but as his gaze slid across the side of the face, he unexpectedly saw a serene smile on partially open lips. Turner leaned back in his chair, holding his hands between his thighs and slightly covering his eyes, which indicated his complete absence in our reality and his presence in his own, understood only by him and undoubtedly bringing him pleasure.

The concert lasted only an hour, not abundant in a wide repertoire. Towards the end, young men and women, children, and even racy grandmothers and grandfathers stood up from their seats to dance right in the square, laughing loudly at their clumsiness. Alex and Miles only watched this scene with warm smiles, tapping their feet rhythmically on the stone pavement, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention to themselves. The clock on the tower, located on the western side of the square, as was customary in all ancient city planning laws, struck 10 o'clock exactly at the moment when the musicians, in the heat of the final chord, sharply raised their bows towards the pitch-black sky, ending the performance. The square drowned in applause and whistling, evoking familiar motives from men's careers.

The air intoxicated their heads, and not wanting to return back so early, they turned into the depths of the city. Turner continued to photograph the local architecture and Miles against its backdrop with mocking skill, not allowing the camera to hang peacefully on his chest for more than two minutes. And when tourists would disappear from their sight, Kane with the agility of a cheetah would press Alex against the nearest wall of another you-know-who-lived-in-this-house-you-lustful-bastard building, pulling him into a tempting kiss and, despite all protests about his indifference to history, smiled contentedly on his lips, feeling Alex pull him closer by the collar of his leopard-print shirt.

They would laugh drunkenly, without drinking a glass, immediately receiving Italian curses from open balconies in response. They would play tag on narrow streets, after which they breathed heavily, resting their elbows on thr knees and joking about their advanced age. They would eat mango ice cream, licking the sweet drips from each other's fingers, and would never stop thinking for a moment about how lucky they are to be loved here and now.

***

They returned to the villa at midnight, exhausted from their long walk, hastily discarding their sticky clothes as they collapsed onto the unmade bed. Alex, resting his chin on Miles' chest, looked at him with such devoted eyes that Miles' heart skipped a beat at the impossibility of resisting those bottomless depths. In the moonlight, his sharp features softened, Alex's fingers gently tracing along the line of his jaw, while a warm smile lingered beneath his closed eyelids, etching itself into Miles' memory with fiery strokes.

"Mi, are you asleep?" Alex asked in a barely audible voice, listening to the rhythm of Miles' heartbeat beneath his cheek.

"No," Miles replied just as softly, shifting slightly on the crisp sheets to find a more comfortable position.

"Do you remember what I told you today about not feeling freedom in music?" Alex continued, as if afraid to disturb his own thoughts, "well, I realized just now that I'm the one closing myself off from it. But you know when? When you're not here. I'm tired of pretending to be someone else without you, tired of feeling not myself without you. And today, there on the square, when you were holding my hand, it hit me that since we met, no one else has come this close to me. You were and still are the only person who truly knows me. Can you imagine?" His voice broke into a hoarse laughter that, truth be told, sounded hauntingly beautiful in the peaceful silence.

"No one really knows me except for you. And I've been afraid to show my true self to anyone but you. But today, for the first time in a long while, I was able to listen to music without thinking about anything else but your fingers on my hands. And I realized," he paused, unconsciously gripping Miles' shoulder tighter, "I realized that I can perform on stage, just thinking about your hands, and then I won't have to try to hide behind a fabricated image to entertain the audience. Damn it, at 36 years old, I've come to the realization that I can simply sing without pouring my own problems into the songs, but instead, just give people the sound. A sound that resonates in their minds, in their feet and hands, a sound that makes them feel alive. I can make at least one of their days truly happy, just like you make my life happy simply by being with me."

Throughout this entire time, Miles never removed his nimble fingers from Alex's head, combing through his hair and soothing him. He could listen to his voice forever, automatically arranging the words into lines for new songs. The sight of Alex — until it stole the air from his lungs, until it brought tears to his eyes, until his pulse faltered in his veins, until a volcano of warmth erupted in his chest. Until he feels alive again.

"Al, if you haven't realized in 20 years of performing what you do for the lives of everyone who attends your concerts, then I'm going to have to enlighten you now," Miles chuckled softly, continuing to massage his head, "everything you've done for the industry is your way of existing in this world. You don't know any other ways, and that's your strength, not weakness. Your music is literally you, it's not about trends or fan requests. It's about how you communicate with others. You have an incredible gift of conveying intangible values through your lyrics. I have no idea how the gears in your mind work, but damn it, you're exceptional. And I swear, anyone who has ever heard any of your songs has pondered the words, thought about what you wanted to say, and ultimately thought about themselves. Your music has meaning, it's not just a string of letters for the sake of rhyme. It's a dictionary of your life. And since the day we first met, I've been carefully studying all your meanings and embodiments, so my music is about you and for you. You are my only inspiration, and if all you need to write a new song is a notebook and an image in your mind, then all I need is you by my side."

Miles may have wanted to add something more, but unable to bear the weight of such declarations of love, Alex impatiently kissed him, exhaling loudly from the fulfillment of a desire that had been building throughout his entire speech. Kane, quickly finding another activity for his tongue besides talking, trailed it along Alex's lower lip, feeling every crack from the salty water.

Alex smiled like a child, whispering 'I lovelovelove you' into his man's lips, continuously running palms along his cheeks. They continued to gaze at each other for a long time, carrying on a quiet conversation interrupted by occasional kisses, shivers down the spine, and tearful thank yous for everything. Even the stars, cautiously peering through the open windows, blushed at their whispers under the thin blanket. Only with the first rays of sunlight, when words ran out and lips swelled from endless contact, men finally fall asleep in a tangle of intertwined arms and legs.

And if Alex were offered to never be a musician but to love Miles, he would without hesitation write a song about it. Because it would be meaningless to confront the person with a choice who made it 17 years ago.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: I sincerely want to believe that this is how everything really happened for them. All in all, these two deserve a happy ending. I will be incredibly happy if you leave feedback after reading! Everything that was born in my head would very much like to find a response in you💔🥺

#alex turner #miles kane #milex #the car era #milex fic #milex fanfiction #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner imagine #Milex oneshot #alex turner one shot #milex 2023 #alex turner fanfic #am7 era #milex au #tlsp2 #tlsp #last shadow puppets

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bonbonshideout · 4 months

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Hero/Henry headcanons

Pre-Mari's death

♤ Hispanic for sure, probably from Guatemala; I wanna say his parents immigrated to Faraway town when he was ~4 years old. Though, they managed to get legal documents later down the line.

♡ He listens to love songs. Why? he loves Mari, of course. He listens to anything Mari would've like, musicals, love songs, classical songs, etc. Usually, he would take notice that if Mari gets into a new band, he starts listening to them as well. Of course, he has his own taste as well; he himself listens to mostly movie soundtracks that he enjoys. He prefers calming songs, though, usually reminding him of a happy memory of when he was younger.

◇ He dated Mari 100%. They were young, they were dumb, and he made a promise that if they got married, he would cook her special dishes every day and would focus on becoming a chef.

♧ He's a good listener. He likes it when people rant to him about their interests or random theories they might have on something. Mari would usually rant about her favorite composer or her favorite book, Hero? He would absorb all that information and just sit there staring at her with heart eyes.

♤ Hero, of course, is Kel's older brother. Hero has always done his best to be an outstanding role model for Kel. His parents never pressured him, but he would end up burdening himself with such a task. He wanted his little brother to grow up with a kind heart.

♡ Hero is like the big brother of the group, always stopping Aubrey and Kel from arguing over the smallest of things, he'd stress out a bit when everyone would hang out and some kind of bickering would commense.

◇ He's supportive asf. You tell him about your ambitions and dreams? "I bet you can do it! I'll help you every step of the way, too!" With a big smile on his face— he is being told to be a doctor by his folks. Even if he loves cooking— he wants to see his friends pursue their dream careers.

♧ He made his first cookbook during this time, taking down everyone's favorite dish and how they personally liked it and how it was prepared.

Post-Mari's death

♤ At first, Hero would lock himself up in his room, only letting Kel come inside since they shared a room. He barely left to even eat that Kel had to bring him breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

♡ He avoided small talk at all times. He hated it. One way or another, the conversation would lead to how he was dealing with Mari's death, so he chooses to just not speak for the most part.

◇ He moved away for university because he couldn't handle staying in Faraway for much longer. He lived next to Sunny, and his window faced their backyard. He would have moments where he would just see Mari's body swinging in the wind, causing him to have a panic attack.

♧ He still cooks, due to studying and working though he doesn't have much time to do so as much as he'd like. When he does, however, he flips through his first little cookbook (which is just a notebook) and would recreate a dish from there, his personal favorite is his sandwich and Mari's cookies as dessert. Sunny's onigiri if he's not craving too much that say, Aubrey's eggplants if he wants something savory alongside Basil's salad. He hesitates in the orange joe that Kel spoke about back then.

♤ He still listens to songs he thinks Mari would enjoy, loves songs, and classical music. He's also listens to some of her favorite composers. Whenever he hears a love sing out in public, he immediately thinks of the times he shared with Mari.

♡ When he visits Faraway, he doesn't like to go to his house right away, not because he isn't happy to be home, but because he takes his time to mentally prepare himself to see Sunny and Mari's home. His panic attacks have reduced a lot due to this.

◇ In university, he studies hard and is quite an intelligent scholar, top of the class, if you will. He wants to be able to succeed and help his friends and parents back home if ever called.

♧ His time in university is a bit... loveless, he has chosen to identify as cupioromamtic— describes a person who wants a romantic relationship but does not feel romantic attraction— as he feels that a love life would not be the same anymore, he's still attached to Mari somehow and he doesn't want to use another girl to move on that way.

I made playlists for the main omori group. If you'd like to check them out, feel free to! Here is Hero's playlist!

-> ‷тнє ¢нєƒ‴ | A Hero playlist

#bonbonshideout #omori headcanons #omori hero #omori game #omori #hero omori #headcanons

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allie-scstudyabroad · 1 year

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Food in Italy !!

Now this is a long awaited, very exciting blog post because who doesn't love food! I just wanted to share some of my favorite foods I have tried and learned about in Italy, so you can try them one day if you are ever around.

First of all, pasta. This is an obvious one to talk about and for good reason. The Italians are very serious about their pasta dishes, and you can always find pasta at pretty much any restaurant. Some of my favorites that I have tried so far are cacio e pepe, gnocchi, bolognese, truffle sauce pasta, and carbonara. Carbonara is an important one to point out because it is famous in Rome. I also think the best carbonara you will find is in Rome versus other areas of Italy. It is a pasta with a lighter sauce and bacon bits. SO delicious. Some places in Italy even hand roll the pasta that they use in your dish right in front of you.

The next most obvious and important food in Italy is pizza! Italian pizza is so good and I have had my fair share of it all semester long. Something I like about the pizza here is they are all usually served personal size. So no large pizza from Dominos to split with the family, but more choose your own and eat the whole thing off your plate. Pizza here I would say generally has a thinner crust, but it really depends on the place you go. My favorite types of pizza are buffalo mozzarella which is like Margherita with the chunks of cheese and basil or the spicy salami which would be most similar to pepperoni. My favorite pizza I have had is actually from the place my program took us our first night in Rome. Popi Popi is in Trastevere where many good restaurants in Rome are and it never disappoints me.

Next up are paninos or sandwiches. You can find great sandwiches amazing prices all over Italy. It is a very popular item to get at a cafe or from a snack place with pre made choices. Italians make excellent bread and have yummy meats so you can't really go wrong. I usually like ones with mozzarella and prosciutto or salami and arugula. My favorite sandwich ever though is from All'Antico Vinaio. This is a famous sandwich shop that originated in Florence, but they have a Rome location as well (and the line is shorter here). These sandwiches are huge and have delicious focaccia like bread. My new favorite from there is the truffle salami with mozzarella and arugula and honey drizzled on top.

The boys have a whole bite of sandwich in their mouths because they couldn't stop eating it was too good.

Now some of the most exciting food items in Italy to me are the appetizers and desserts. I'll start with appetizers because that's the chronological order when eating. If you travel to Italy you must try a suppli!! This is easily my favorite food I have had all semester and I eat them way too much. They are a fried ball that has rice with red sauce and cheese in the middle. Had one my first night and eat them whenever I can now. My other favorite appetizer would have to be bruschetta. This is the slices of toasted bread usually with tomatoes and olive oil and seasons on top. You can also order different types sometimes though like eggplants topped ones. If you want to sounds like you know Italian when ordering this, the pronunciation is bru-sket-ta in Italian. And last but certainly not least is desserts. Italy has tons of specialty desserts like cannolis, tiramisu, and of course gelato. I can hardly ever turn down a good cone of gelato when I have the chance. There is even a place in the city center that has 150 flavors of gelato! There is also a place with 100 flavors of tiramisu. It is very exciting and the Italian sweet treats never disappoint.

I am excited to eat all of my favorite foods and try some new ones during my last two weeks abroad. It has all been so delicious, and I can't recommend it all enough! I hope this made your mouth water and your stomach grumble.

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on.

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon.

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!”

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous.

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub!

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself.

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him.

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed.

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen.

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N.

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl.

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body.

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

-- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her.

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips.

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing request #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles prompt #harry styles x influencer y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble

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believingispowerfulmagic · 3 years

Text

“Second Chance, Best Chance” Chapter 20: A Happy Beginning

And so this story ends. Thank you for everyone who has followed it to this conclusion – you all have been amazing!

I will happily write any prompts in this verse if you have them and may revisit it from time to time but this story is finished.

Thanks again and have a great weekend!

-Mac

"Have a good weekend, Regina," Tink said, smiling as Regina left her office for the evening.

Regina paused by her desk, knocking on it. "You too. Go home and get some rest."

"I will," Tink promised. "Goodnight."

Nodding, Regina continued to the elevator. She hit the call button and was pleased when the doors opened a few seconds later. Within minutes, she had entered the parking garage and was in her car. She headed toward the gate, waving to the security guard as he let her out and onto the roads of Storybrooke.

Her commute home was a short one and she soon was parked in her driveway, her Mercedes right next to Robin's SUV. She grabbed her bag and headed into the house. "I'm home!" she announced.

Nothing.

There were no shouts of her name and her children didn't come rushing to greet her. All remained quiet and she frowned, wondering what was going on.

"Hello?" she called out. "Robin? Regan? Henry? Anyone?"

"In here, sweetheart," Robin replied, his voice coming from the dining room. She followed it into the room, stopping short as she took in the sight before her.

The lights were dimmed, really letting the candles placed on the dining room table glow brighter. Two China plates were set at two chairs and her good silverware was set out next to them. Wine glasses sat there, waiting to be filled for what was clearly a romantic dinner for two.

Robin stepped out of the kitchen, wearing a blue button-down shirt that brought out his eyes and navy pants. As he approached her, he held out a bouquet of roses. "For you," he said.

"Thank you," she replied, taking the bouquet from him. "What is all this for?"

"Well, in all the excitement, we didn't really get a chance to celebrate two big events - your birthday and Valentine's Day," he said. "So we're going to celebrate both tonight."

Her insides turned to goo and she couldn't help but smile. "You are so sweet. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Do you want to change or are you okay?"

She glanced down at the black dress she had worn to the office. While it was nice, it was business and she wanted to be sexy tonight. After all it was both her birthday and Valentine's Day. Looking back up, she grinned at him. "I'm going to change. I'll be back soon."

"No need to rush," he replied, kissing her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere and we don't have any reservations to make."

"Understood," she said, heading up to her room as she went through her closet in her mind.

Once she got to it, she immediately pulled out a favorite red dress of hers. She laid it on the bed before going to her lingerie drawer to find something for Robin to find later. After all, they had all night and they were celebrating both her birthday and Valentine's Day.

Which meant at least two rounds of sex at the very least.

It gave her a thrill.

Regina found the perfect set for that night and placed them on her bed as well. She then shed her clothes and put some lotion on certain parts of her body to assure her skin wasn't dry from the cold winter air. After that she put on the lacier pants and bra she had pulled out before pulling the dress over them. Completing the look with her favorite pair of ruby studs and red heels, she took off the remains of her lipstick and put on a fresh bright red coat.

She headed back downstairs and posed in the doorway, holding out her arms as she did a little spin for Robin. "What do you think?"

"Bloody gorgeous," he said, awestruck as he took in the dress as it clung to her curves. It also had a lower cut neckline than she would wear for work, giving him a better view of her breasts. And she knew it made her ass look even better, which was a plus since it was Robin's favorite part on her.

"I thought you would like it," she said, sashaying up to him. She smirked as she leaned in, kissing his cheek.

He cleared his throat before pulling away, motioning to the table. "Shall we?"

She let him pull out a chair for her before she sat down. As she placed a napkin on her lap, she looked up at him. "What are we having?"

"Eggplant parmigiana," he replied, "with some angel hair pasta."

Her stomach growled and she gave him a sheepish grin. "I think that was a stamp of approval."

"Sounded like one to me," he agreed with a laugh. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with their plates. "Let me go get the wine and we'll be ready to go."

Regina looked down at the plate and her stomach growled again. She licked her lips just as Robin returned, pouring some red wine into her glass. "This looks amazing," she told him.

"Thank you," he replied, handing her the glass. "I have some free time but not for long."

She perked up when he said that. "Did they offer you the position?"

He nodded as he took his own seat. "You are looking at the new art teacher for Storybrooke Academy."

"Congratulations!" she said, joy surging through her. "We should also be celebrating that as well!"

"We will - tomorrow, with all the children," he said. She nodded - they would have Roland for the weekend and so it would make sense that he would want to wait until they were all together to celebrate.

He raised his glass. "A toast to you. I am so lucky that we found each other again and that I get to spend my days by your side once more. You are a wonderful mother and an amazing partner. I couldn't ask for more. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, clinking her glass against his. They took sips of their wine before digging into their meal. She let out a soft moan as she tasted the eggplant. "This is delicious, Robin."

"Thank you," he said, pleased. "I wanted it to be perfect for you."

She swallowed her second bite before saying: "You did a great job."

They ate a bit more before she paused, sipping her wine. "What else do you have planned for tonight?"

"Some dessert, a bath, and then dessert," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

She chuckled. "Sounds like a good night."

"That's the goal." He winked at her before taking another sip of her wine. "Can I get you seconds?"

"I don't know. I think I should leave room for dessert," she said, glancing at her plate. "But I also get the feeling I'll need plenty of fuel for dessert."

He nodded. "I can see your conundrum."

"Do you have a solution?" she asked him, resting her chin on her hand.

"Yes," he said. "I think dessert will be able to sustain us through dessert. So let's enjoy it."

She nodded. "I defer to your decision."

"Thank you." He chuckled, giving a little bow. Robin then stood and started to gather their dirty dishes. "I'll be right back."

"Do you need any help?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "I'm fine. Besides, this is also supposed to be your birthday. So relax."

"Alright," she said, leaning back in her chair. She held up her wine glass. "Please bring the wine bottle out. I can at least help finish that off."

"Whatever the birthday girl wants," he said, placing the bottle next to her. "Just don't overdo it. I'd rather you be on the sober end of things for dessert."

She chuckled, pouring the rest of the wine into her glass. It barely filled it halfway. "Don't worry. I think I'll be fine."

"Alright," he replied, calling from the kitchen. "I trust your judgment."

Regina smiled as she sipped her wine, waiting for him to come back. He returned a few minutes later, setting down a slice of cheesecake covered with cherries in front of her. "Enjoy," he told her.

"Oh, you do know how to spoil me," she said, using her fork to take off the tip. She placed it in her mouth, enjoying the tastes of the cherry and cheesecake.

It was perfect.

"You look happy," Robin said, taking his seat with his slice of cheesecake. "I made a good decision?"

She nodded as she swallowed another bite. "You made a great decision."

They finished their cheesecake and he cleared away the dishes. Regina followed him into the kitchen this time, leaning against the island. "So, time for our bath?"

"If you want," he said. "I also thought we could enjoy a dance in the living room."

"A dance sounds perfect," she replied, taking his outstretched hand. She leaned against him, smiling. "You're certainly pulling out all the stops."

He kissed the top of her head. "I am. Our first Valentine's Day should be one to remember."

"Even if it's not really Valentine's Day?" she asked.

"Shh, we're pretending it's Valentine's Day, remember?" He stopped as they arrived in the living room, pulling away from her. Robin started some music before approaching her again. "May I have this dance?"

She grinned. "You may."

He took her hand and pulled her close, placing his hand on her waist. She gently gripped his arm as they swayed in time to the soft ballad playing. Regina pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes as she just enjoyed the moment. She felt herself relax as happiness and love flowed through her.

It was the best birthday/Valentine's Day she had ever had.

Continue reading here

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #second chance best chance

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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1010

survey from diggitydoo

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yes, when my mom was pregnant with my brother. What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I’m only wearing a duster gown; no shorts underneath. I just got it last night, actually - my mom wanted to donate clothes to victims of a recent fire incident in Manila and so she asked my sister and I to sort through our closets for clothes we were willing to give away. My sister ended up giving away a comfy-looking duster gown that she never even wore and even smelled brand new to boot. It ended up in my hands, ha. But apart from that we gave away a lot of stuff that aren’t old uniforms or costumes (which is what most people tend to ‘donate’, ugh), so we just hope they end up with people who really need them. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last night I went on our org’s Discord server and we played Jackbox games for around an hour or so. It was my first time to socialize again after around two months and I really, really needed that moment. I even met the org’s newest roster of applicants for this semester, which was neat. :) What was the scariest moment of your life? Men terrorizing me or near-car crashes I’ve had.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? The name is familiar, but that’s the most I know.

Pancakes or flapjacks? I guess pancakes, since I don’t even know what flapjacks are. What kind of computer are you on? It’s a laptop. Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? For sure. Pork buns or minced pork with eggplant. With century egg on the side, yum. What are you usually doing at midnight? Either passed out or desperately trying to sleep because I don’t want to lose any more hours of sleep and risk being cranky for the whole of the next day. Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No. The worst thing that’s happened was being someone’s ball date (and unbeknownst to me, they apparently had feelings for me at the time) while I was already with someone. If so, how did it turn out? He figured it out by himself, which I still feel bad about. But the timing was super off and I just couldn’t find a moment to sit him down and set the record straight...ah well. It was just super complicated at the time. Give me your brief definition of love. My favorite love-related quote is “Love never says ‘I have done enough’” and for the longest time, that has been my guiding principle when it comes to it. Definitely a tad bit cheesy, but telling myself that over and over makes it easier to continue loving the people I care for and be patient with them when they’re being asses. Gab included, then and now. What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? It differs for everyone but I’m a thigh girl through and through. What kind of shoes do you wear? Uh...various ones? I have sneakers, flats, heels, flip-flops, probably a couple more kinds that I can’t place at the moment. What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Resorting to physical violence. I was a kid constantly exposed to violence in my old home, and at the time I genuinely thought that’s how most things were settled or pacified. I still feel like shit about it to this day, and my backstory isn’t an excuse at all; but the past is the past and I’ve been trying to make up for it by being a much more gentle angry person in the last few years. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope. Do you like the smell of coconuts? For some reason I can’t stand anything coconut (which is a damn shame considering I’m Filipino) but I love dishes with heaps of coconut milk in them, like curry. That’s the one coconut-related thing I enjoy, but otherwise I’ve never learned to appreciate the taste and smell of buko juice, coconut shavings, coconut pies, and everything else coconut. What is the heaviest you think you can lift? From what my old PE class showed me, around 70 to 80 lbs. Do you take Tums? Idk what that is so I guess I don’t. Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? I’m not sure if I’ve been to a pier before. I bet it feels wonderful and freeing and I’d love to visit one; but I also can’t keep myself from associating piers with the recurring image of Jennifer Connelly’s character standing on one from Requiem for a Dream. How about under one? No. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? Not sure if it was 11 or 12, but it was definitely one of those years. Do you feel that way around anyone now? Yeah, if they allowed me to see them. But I’m shut out now so I haven’t had that sensation in a while.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No. Do you ever sing to yourself? Sure. I’m sure most people do every once in a while. What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves have never failed. How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? ‘Main goal’ sounds so overwhelming; I make it a point to avoid one overarching goal and instead make little goals and plans here and there depending on where I am in life. Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? Never heard of it. What is your main heritage? Filipino. What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles. What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta are my faves, but I love cheese and am willing to be adventurous when it comes to it. If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? Eh, they can stay in the sea where they can actually survive. I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to keeping fish as pets. How about a farm animal? Probably pig. So, do you have hoes in different area codes? No, and ew. What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? Haven’t been exposed to a lot of new music lately and the songs I do get to hear on the radio whenever I drive are actually pretty good. This totally doesn’t answer your question but my favorites so far have been Birthday by Disclosure, Kehlani, and Syd; and Plain by Benee, Lily Allen, and Flo Milli. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? Any Kanye song I like. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Not wanting to go into another downward spiral. Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Extremely rarely. I only do when there’s a new slang I’m completely unfamiliar with. Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Stupid for the most part. I find them too immature or vulgar, but that’s one of the points of the website so I guess I’m just not in their target audience lol. What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? Uh, the Transformer robots.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? My cousins’ toy soldiers.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Eh, a few times. If so, what did you do? I’ve been pulled to drinking sessions here and there when I really shouldn’t be drinking because I had an important test tomorrow or something else was happening the next day that was just as significant. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? Teeth, I’m pretty sure. I’ve had braces, needed a tooth extracted, gotten a cavity, and gone through a severe toothache.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk I never look around because being aware of it would just freak me out and make me feel like I’m naked. What is a good name for a turtle? Would depend on their personality. And this applies to all kinds of pets, at least for me. I don’t decide on their names until I have a good grasp of their attitude. Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Stereotypical Filipino mom and valley girl. Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Sure. What makes a good kisser a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person so I’m not the best judge for this; but I always like it when my lower lip is tugged or grazed on. How many times a year do you have a family thing? This is a little vague for me. Do you mean get-togethers? Giant-ass reunions? Movie nights? Game nights? What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I only like one kind of smoothie and it’s sold by a local joint – and I think I’ve already shared this before but that smoothie of theirs that I like has “apple, banana, cinnamon, oats, coco sugar, chia seeds, greens, and soy milk,” according to their menu. So I guess those are the best ingredients for me, ha. Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? When I find something extremely delicious, yeah. What do you dislike most about where you live right now? For the most part I can’t wait to get out of suburban residential villages. I’d love to finally experience living in a condo in a super busy and active city. Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yes.

Are you watching your weight? Not really. I’m trying to gain pounds though, if anything. I haven’t eaten much in the last two months. Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? I trust y’all with my life, so that’s one. Apart from Tumblr, the best friends I made were probably the people in the AJ/Punk fandom, back when I had a stan account on Twitter. I don’t remember most of their names now and we fizzled out pretty quickly when both parts of the ship left WWE, but I look back on that period with fondness. Those people made high school a lot easier for me. What makes your best friend your best friend? She doesn’t care whether I’m on top of the world with happiness or completely self-destructive and crying my eyes out; she has always been present. Do you have a drunk uncle? *rolls eyes* We don’t wanna open up that can of worms... Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope. What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Based on personal experience and not to come off as sexist, but it’s liking wrestling. I have never met a girl in real life who has even the most remote interest in pro wrestling or can tell me who Hulk Hogan is. And the ones I’ve had discussions with - from shallow/casual to in-depth - have all been guys. Seeing girls who are into wrestling is like finding a rare Pokemon, at least in real life. What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Idk. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? Probably the spork tattoo of Josh, a crew member from Good Mythical Morning. It’s just a line tattoo. Of a spork. On his arm. But he managed to make it so goddamn fascinating lmao; and apparently, as I learned just now, it has a pretty touching backstory to it too, which makes it a million times cooler. Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? I’ve never finished any of the crafts I bought. Never finished a coloring book page much less an entire coloring book, a painting, a gem painting...it’s something I’ll have to bring my butt to do one of these days. I can’t imagine how fulfilling it would feel. Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? I eat the whole thing but I honestly find Oreos too sweet and I’ve always much rather preferred Oreo-flavored stuff instead of the actual cookies.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? My mom. If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? She’s fed me for 22 years and gave me an education, I guess. Though it’s something I appreciate more so than like. Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Probably as a dumb kid, when historical context wasn’t a thing to me yet. I still wince thinking about it, but I suppose what matters is being better and more responsible moving forward. Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and to some extent Andi.

If so, what about them do you like most? They are both understanding when it comes to me - almost to a fault. What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? When you say ‘hotdogs’ here, it refers to the sausages itself. The sandwich kind of hotdog isn’t super popular here. What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My siblings are still resting in their rooms; my dad is preparing for work, I think. What is the most money you've ever had at one time? Something like P10,000 or P15,000 when my mom needed me to pay for something in cash. How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? Idk, maybe 10 minutes. I won’t be fast, that’s for sure. Look down. What do you see? My legs and the pillow I’m sitting on. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Right now, probably my failed relationship. I haven’t gotten to the sharing stage yet and remotely thinking about it gets my voice all shaky. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? Paramore. What kind of mood were you in most of today? It’s only 7:52 AM. My only mood so far is just woke up. Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Yeah. Because people in this damn house never knock. Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. The word ‘ariba.’ What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Break my trust. So simple but it packs a punch. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk if I’ve ever been that aggressive. When I want to do something destructive towards someone I always end up asking what it would feel like if the action was done to me, and it’s always been enough to sway me away from doing the thing. How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Sad. How about the last person (your last ex)? Same person. What is the best invention ever invented? Air conditioners.

What is something that needs to be invented? Portable air conditioners. What always makes you burp? My burps come randomly. What are you doing tomorrow? It’s my last weekend before my new job, soooooooo...I’ll be bumming around for my last two days of freedom.

#survey #surveys

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ericsonclan · 3 years

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Anyone Can Cook

Summary: Omar has a quiet birthday celebration.

Word Count: 1631

Read on AO3:

Omar was really excited for this evening. He had everything perfectly planned out. All the ingredients were laid out on the counter and ready to be prepped, the TV was playing a beautiful theme as the title screen for Ratatouille stood on the screen. His little Remy plushie stood on the arm of the couch next to a chef’s hat. Omar hummed happily as he began to wash the veggies. He really was looking forward to this quiet, personal birthday night. He knew that Louis had planned a surprise party for him at the diner that would be taking place on Friday when his actual birthday was. But for tonight he wanted to simply enjoy one of his favorite movies and some comforting homemade cooking.

Omar dried off the veggies then began to cut them into thin slices. He made sure they were precise and continued to hum happily as he moved through the kitchen. Once all the prep was done for the ratatouille he could start up the movie then at the perfect time he’d cook up the veggies and put them in the oven. Once all the mise en place was done, Omar made his way back into the living room with a bag of popcorn and some sparkling apple cider. When that was set he jogged back and grabbed a wine glass. Pouring himself a glass of apple cider, he lightly bounced onto his seat as he pressed the play button.

As the movie began, Omar put on his little chef hat and pulled his plushie of Remy close to him. He was immediately pulled into the world of Ratatouille and the dream of this young rat who wanted to be a chef. As the movie continued to play, his hand absentmindedly grabbed some popcorn to eat and every so often he’d take a sip or two of cider. Not long into the movie one of his favorite lines was coming up; he leaned forward and said it with the movie.

“Anyone can cook,” The words caused the hair to stand up on his arms and he hugged the plushie close to him. A little while into the movie he paused it and rose up to cook the sauce for his dinner. Omar continued to hum happily as he placed Remy by the stove and began to cook. He couldn’t wait to return back to watching the film but in order for it to feel like the special birthday movie experience he needed to time this perfectly. So he worked carefully and continued to hum to himself softly as the smells of garlic, tomatoes, onion and basil drifted into the air.

The smell danced around his nose and made a bright smile appear on his face. Any minute now and he could wrap up the cast iron pan and stick it in the oven. Ever so gently he began to place the assortment of squash, eggplant, tomatoes and zucchini in a circle. Slowly but surely he worked his way to the center of the pan until it was full. He then worked to get the special herb mixture of parsley, thyme, basil seasoned with garlic, and salt and pepper and dressed the vegetables with the oil he’d prepared. Once he had generously placed that on top of the veggies he got the cast iron pan foil wrapped and in the oven.

Just as he closed the oven, he heard a knock on his door. Omar’s nose scrunched up in confusion; he wasn’t expecting anyone this evening. Moseying his way over to the front door he glanced through the peephole and was pleasantly surprised at his best friend, Ruby, standing there with her arms behind her back. Unlocking the door, he opened it with a gentle smile. “Good evening, Ruby.”

“Evening, Omar. I hope I’m not bothering you,” Ruby had a warm smile on her face although her eyes looked slightly concerned that her being there was stepping on his toes.

“No bother at all. Just having a quiet pre-birthday celebration.” Omar had a soft expression on his face. “What brings you by?”

“Well, you see I can't make it on Friday at the diner so I’ll be missing your surprise party,” Ruby paused, her blue eyes widening in realization that she had let the secret slip. “Oh, horsefeathers,” The redhead shook her head angrily at herself.

“Ruby, it's okay. I figured Louis was throwing a surprise party. He loves those things.” Omar’s reassurance made his friend’s shoulders relax.

“Glad I didn’t ruin anything, but let’s keep it a secret between the two of us so that the gift of throwing the party isn’t ruined for Louis,” Ruby gave a wink. “Speaking gifts, I came by to give you an early birthday present.”

Omar’s eyes grew large before softening; this was a surprise he wasn’t expecting but that he appreciated nonetheless.

“That’s kind of you. Please, come in,” Omar stepped aside to give room for Ruby to enter. The short redhead bustled in and thanked Omar. As soon as Omar had closed the door, Ruby extended her arms and held out a medium sized rectangular package wrapped in bright, happy birthday wrapping paper. Omar took it and stared at it with curiosity before he began to gently open it. After a few seconds the wrapping paper was off. Inside was a breakfast sandwich maker. Omar’s eyes sparkled with joy.

“You like it?” Ruby looked at her friend, swaying back and forth due to her nerves.

“I love it,” Omar smiled at Ruby then down at the gift. “I’ve actually always wanted one of these.” “Oh, I’m so glad!” Ruby moved forward and gave Omar a hug. “Happy birthday, Omar.”

Omar wrapped his arms around Ruby, extending the hug. “Thank you.”

After a minute the two friends pulled apart and Omar moved towards the kitchen to put his newest kitchen gadget in its rightful place. “It smells wonderful in here,” Ruby stated. The smell of veggies and herbs covered the kitchen.

“I’m making ratatouille,” Omar gave a short nod in approval to the spot he’d chosen for the gift then looked back at Ruby. “I’m also watching Ratatouille . You can join me if you want. Or are you busy tonight?”

“Oh, I have no plans but I don’t wanna impose.” “You’re not imposing at all. I think it would be fun,”

Ruby looked over at Omar and saw how genuinely he meant those words. “Alright,” Ruby smiled and the pair made their way to the back once more after Omar had been sure to get his Remy plushie from the kitchen and another glass for Ruby.

Within minutes the movie was started back up and the pair of friends watched as Omar gushed about all the different details in his favorite movie. It felt as though no time had passed when Omar paused the movie once more to do the final step for the dish. Ruby offered her help and the duo worked seamlessly in the kitchen just as they did at the diner. Once that was done they went back and continued to enjoy the movie’s tale. Just as the movie was reaching the pivotal scene the timer went off in the kitchen.

“Perfect timing,” Omar paused the movie and got up with Ruby. The two went into the kitchen. Omar immediately put on his oven mitts and pulled out the cast iron pan that held the simple yet delicious meal.

“It looks divine,” Ruby’s statement made Omar beam with pride.

“Just wait until I finish plating,” Omar reached up and grabbed two plates. He ever so delicately picked up a serving of ratatouille and began to plate it for Ruby then worked on his own plate. Once the chef was pleased with his work, the pair of friends made their way back and pressed play. It was the iconic scene where the ratatouille was being presented in front of the famous food critic. Omar waited patiently until the critic lifted up the bite of food to his lips. He nodded to Ruby, signalling that it was time to eat.

It was in perfect sync; just as the character on screen ate the food so did the two watching the film. The delicious taste of the roasted vegetables infused with the herb mixture overwhelmed the pairs’ taste buds. It was the perfect comfort food just like what was shown on screen. As the critic was brought back to his childhood so was Omar as he remembered the first time he ever watched the film. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he watched the movie to its conclusion. As the credits rolled Omar brushed his eyes before looking over at Ruby.

“Did you enjoy the movie?”

“Yeah, it’s such a fun and pleasant story,” Ruby smiled warmly over at her friend. “Thanks for the food and letting me watch.” Before Omar could respond Ruby’s phone buzzed with a text. The redhead checked it and got up to her feet. “Oh, I better be getting home.”

“Okay,” Omar walked over to the door and held it open for Ruby. Ruby gave him one final hug then stepped out the door.

“Happy birthday, Omar.” Ruby turned back to look at her friend who gave the softest smile.

“Thank you,” He said one final goodbye then after closing the door returned back to the living room. He immediately pulled his Remy plush close to him and looked up at the ceiling. The evening had been everything he had hoped and he even got to spend it with his best friend.

“Happy birthday, Omar,” he whispered to himself with a gentle smile as he let his happiness wash over him and make his heart all warm and fuzzy. It really had been perfect.

#twdg #twdg omar #twdg ruby #ruby omar brotp #fanfic #ericson's diner au

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nelllraiser · 4 years

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when life gives you lemons | grace & nell

LOCATION: grace’s apartment. PARTIES: @nelllraiser and @silveraccent SUMMARY: nell arrives at grace’s with a house warming meal! unfortunately navigating a witch’s kitchen can be tricky with all sorts of things lying about. grace shares a little more than she intends, as does nell. CONTENT: drug manipulation (accidental), mentions of death

Finding out that Grace lived in the same building as Blanche could only mean one thing. Nell was practically obligated to bring the girl food and essentially force her to be friends with herself and the blonde. She’d never been all that great at making friends, but her sudden uptake of them since coming back to White Crest gave her something of a confident boost, even if a couple of those friendships had hit rocky waters. But she didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, she focused on the warmth under her fingers that came from the hünkâr beğendi that was fresh from the kitchen, magically warmed all the way over to the complex. It was essentially an eggplant puree with spiced and sauteed lamb cubes to top it, and as always— it was her grandmother’s recipe. As Nell raised her hand to knock on the door, the fleeting thought that this was the most normal thing she’d done in a while crossed her mind, and excitement began to fill her, the edges of it tinged with anticipation at meeting a new person.

Grace had been spending the majority of her time, if not at work training with Regan, at home alone. The scent of sandalwood hung in the air-- a mistake made by lighting a candle for too long. After having doused the flame, she busied herself with getting her things ready for the following day, not wanting to be late to work and giving Regan an excuse to be disappointed in her. It had taken her a few moments to get everything organized and set aside, laundry included, and just as she was about to collapse into her bed with her laptop, somebody had knocked on her door. Confusion and curiosity colored Grace’s features. She hadn’t met anybody who would feel the need to come over, aside from Blanche, and that had been a calm and quiet conversation in the hallway. Grace shoved herself off of her bed, wandering to the door. The face on the other side is a face that Grace hadn’t recognized through the peephole, and even after the door is open, Grace is still finding the girl hard to place. “Hello?” She said warily, not sure if she had the wrong apartment or not. “Can I help you?”

Oh shit. Nell had forgotten to actually tell Grace that she was coming over hadn’t she? She was pretty sure she’d mentioned something online about meeting up and having food after finding out that she was Blanche’s neighbor, but perhaps she hadn’t actually asked. Or maybe she’d just assumed. Well— too late now. The brief flicker of uncertainty that wavered in her was quickly replaced by sheer refusal to acknowledge it, rolling with the punches as it were as Nell swiftly recovered, presenting the dish of food. “Shit, sorry. I now realize you didn’t actually say I could come by but...I did bring food. Sort of like an apartment-warming gift or whatever.” Oh, she’d also forgotten to say who the hell she even was. “I’m Nell. We were talking about whales and eating people.” Hmm, maybe she should work on her first conversations with people. But that was in the past now. “This...is pretty creepy, isn’t it?” she asked with a bit of an uncertain chuckle.

The confusion on Grace’s face quickly morphs into understanding as the woman explained herself. Oh, of course! She had been bad with faces all of her life, and the icons were small on the forum, so could she truly be blamed? “Oh, shit! Yeah, sorry.” Grace could feel the nerves rolling off of Nell, and in turn, she began to feel them, too. Her words had been genuine, however, Grace could tell that much. Stepping aside, Grace allowed Nell to walk in. Letting the door close, Grace was quick to kick aside the shoes at the front door, not having wanted her to trip over them. “It’s not creepy, no, sorry--” Grace laughed, “Things have been… a bit wild, sorry-- I just, well you know I just moved here, so…” Finally, Grace took further notice of the pan in Nell’s hands, “Oh, let me get that for you!” Grabbing it, she retreated to the small kitchen that was just adjacent from her bed. There was enough room between her bed and the kitchen to separate themselves as two entirely different spaces, but it had still felt small. Beggars can’t be choosers, Grace reminded herself. “I’m Grace, Grace Huang, but I guess you already knew that, but--” Grace stuck a hand out to Nell, “nice to meet you, and over man-eating whales, no less.”

As Grace seemed to accept Nell’s presence without question, the witch’s nerves settled, replaced with a general sense of being at ease, though the eagerness to get to know the girl in front of her was still present. “No, you’re good! I literally just showed up to your apartment like a freak so- you definitely don’t have to apologize.” Thankfully, it looked like Grace was more than willing to welcome her in, so it looked like she didn’t quite have to worry about that any longer. “No, I mean that makes sense! Moving around can be a lot.” She’d done it herself for five years straight, though she’d enjoyed the picking up and going off to somewhere new, always on to another adventure. “I’m glad it’s not creepy, though,” she finished with a more comfortable laugh. Handing the pan over, she quickly explained, “It’s hünkâr beğendi! Sort of like...eggplant mashed potatoes with meat on top. People call it sultan’s delight here so I figured as long as you’re not anything higher than a sultan you might like it. Hopefully you’re not some secret goddess or something. Then I’m screwed.” Her smile was quick to greet Grace as their conversation continued on. “I’m Nell Vural, but it’s nice to officially meet you without the risk of whales devouring us,” she finished as she shook the offered hand.

Grace had been aware of the fact that she was a walking contradiction. She had faced that fact, spoken by her grandmother multiple times. She could say she wanted one thing, only to show that what she truly wanted was something entirely different. It had shown now in the way that she let Nell into her apartment without question. She couldn’t just work her life away, otherwise she’d end up to be what Regan was, and while Grace was sure that the woman was kind on the outside, the last thing she wanted to be was boring. “No, I’m not a goddess,” Grace laughed. She hadn’t ever heard of the food that Nell mentioned, “I’ve never had it, so I’m sure it’ll be great, I mean, you made it and brought it here, so thanks.” Grace dropped her hand after Nell had shaken it. So Regan had been a one-off, Grace could read Nell like a book. She seemed to be excited about meeting somebody new, and instead of fighting it, Grace mirrored it. She’d deal with the exhaustion later. “Yeah, for sure! Thanks so much for coming over, sorry about-- I forgot.” She laughed again, wandering over to the counter where she had set the food down. “Do you want to join me for dinner? I haven’t eaten yet, so.. If you haven’t either, the more the merrier?”

“Are you sure you aren’t?” Nell teased, perhaps flirting a bit. After all, flattery was never a bad thing, right? Especially when meeting new people. And it wasn’t like Grace wasn’t pretty. Quite the opposite. “I’m glad it can be something new, then.” Her tone was as welcoming as it had been to begin with, but Nell was also beginning to remember why she wasn’t the best at small talk. How did people get by like this? Nevertheless, she waved a hand in Grace’s direction, dismissing the girl’s apology once again. “Don’t worry about it. I genuinely don’t remember if I even told you I was coming. Also, you really don’t have to keep apologizing.” She tried not to linger on the thought of whether or not Grace often let herself take fault for things, deciding that was a bit too heavy of a consideration for having just met the girl. “Are you sure, though? I mean...I never say no to eating.” Nell looked around the kitchen, as if trying to see how she might help with getting the meal ready.

Grace hadn’t quite picked up on Nell’s flirting, and if it hadn’t been for the sudden shift from Nell-- something short of playfulness, Grace wouldn’t have picked up on it at all. “If I were, I’d probably be the goddess of tripping over my own two feet,” she laughed. It had been awhile since her apartment had been filled with laughter-- save for when she had been rewatching The Office for the 50th time. “It’s a habit,” Grace said over the noise of the plates shifting against one another as she set them on the counter. “No, totally, please.” Grace peeled back the tin foil from the pan and marveled at the dish. “I’m excited to try this, I’m sure it’s going to be great.” Grabbing a spatula, before she began to spoon out portions, she laughed again, “some would say we’re moving too fast.” She grinned at her new-proclaimed friend, riding the high from Nell’s elation. God, she was going to pay for this later, Grace thought as she portioned out the hünkâr beğendi. Grabbing both of the plates, Grace set them down and turned towards the fridge, “What would you like to drink? I have water or lemonade?”

Huh. Nell wasn’t entirely certain if Grace had noticed the flirtation or not, or if this was her way of politely denying it. Perhaps just one more little one to try and get a read? “Well, I’m sure you’d look cute doing that, too— tripping and all.” It was so frustrating flirting with girls sometimes, half the time they had no idea it was happening simply because of how women often tended to compliment one another. Though...Nell supposed that was somewhat of a good thing. As someone who probably should apologize more rather than less, Nell couldn’t entirely understand the habit of saying sorry. Wait, was Grace flirting now? Why were girls so confusing? Boys were easy, why couldn’t women be the same? “I mean, I don’t think that’s always a bad thing to move too fast,” she replied with ease, the words smooth as they left her. But the cooking was a rather big distraction from her flirt game. Accepting the plate, Nell’s emotions soared in what might have been an embarrassing amount if she knew the other girl was an empath,as they did every time she was presented with food. “I’m good with whatever you’re having!”

Grace could feel the blush that had risen to her cheeks. Was that her, or was that Nell? It was hard to tell. This was why she had come to White Crest. Wait-- not to flirt with pretty girls, but for the quiet-- God it was hard to focus on the food in front of her, rather than the words that continued to leave Nell. Instead, Grace flashed another smile, eager to please. “You think so?” Grace grabbed the silverware, and two glasses of water, before returning to her seat. Dividing the silverware between them, she took a seat. Nell was loud. Louder than anybody she had met in White Crest. Why was that? Grace bit down onto the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to stay grounded. “Thank you for the meal,” Grace said before diving her fork into the food. The first bite had taken Grace by surprise. She hadn’t expected the food to be bad, but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. “Oh, this is tasty!” Grace said, covering her mouth as she spoke.

Okay, was the blush a good or bad blush? Nell mused over the pinkess of Grace’s face for a minute, trying to decide whether or not to continue the onslaught of flirtation. Nevertheless, Grace asked about Nell’s thoughts on the matter so...that was an invitation, right? “Oh, definitely. I don’t think there’s much you could do without being cute.” That was a bit more of a heavy hitter, and Nell waited somewhat impatiently to watch Grace’s reaction carefully. “Thanks for accepting me into your home when this was essentially a surprise,” Nell said before diving into her own meal in a way that spoke to just how ready she was to devour it. A little sprig of pride sprouted in her along with a flash of joy as Grace praised the food. “Yeah? I’m glad you like it!” It did taste good to Nell, even if something about it seemed a little...different than when she usually made it. Was it missing a bit of lemon juice? But that was impossible, she remembered reaching for it and adding it in. Unless...she’d accidentally reached for the wrong thing.

Grace looked at Nell over her plate, and she could feel the rouge deepen on her cheeks. What was going on? By now, it was hard for Grace to tell if what she had been feeling were her own emotions, or if they were the emotions of the girl sitting across from her. She was sure once she left, she would be able to pinpoint it. Grace didn’t have the energy to fight it, and so she succumbed. Was she really already being run ragged? To be fair, she had made it a point in staying away from people, especially because her own emotions had already been all over the place. “There’s probably something, but I won’t bother trying to find it.” She said after a moment, picking up her napkin to wipe at the corner of her mouth. “It’s really good, thank you. I was probably just going to eat microwave mac ‘n cheese again.” Grace took another bite, then realizing, what was the last vegetable you ate, Grace? As time went on, Grace found herself falling into conversation with Nell easily, something that hadn’t happened in awhile. Though, had she really tried? Glancing down at her empty plate, she leaned back, “I’m so full, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat anything for a week.” she said as she combed her fingers through her hair. “You know,” Grace wiped her mouth with her napkin, “You’re probably the prettiest girl I’ve seen since moving here.” Wait, what?

Nell left the playful flirtation to itself for a moment as Grace’s reply didn’t seem to sway either way on the spectrum of whether she was welcoming to it or not. “Well let me know if you do. I’ll be very surprised.” Okay, maybe not entirely done. That comment was harmless enough, though. A gentle frown came over her lips as Grace mentioned the microwave meal, as if she were disappointed in the girl, though it was meant in good fun. “Well, I’m glad that I could come by, then. Even if the best part of mac and cheese is the way it gets all toasty on the edges.” As she scraped the last of her plate clean, Nell leaned forward in the slightest, a flash of surprise glinting across her as Grace seemed to unabashedly continue down the road of flattery. But she quickly tried to cover it with the beginnings of a smirk. “You know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?” she replied with a tease. “You know I didn’t plan on coming over and here and flirting but that sort of changed when I saw you.” Hold on. That hadn’t been something she meant to say. It had felt like the words just sprung from her unbidden...even if they were the truth.

Grace blinked up at Nell. What had she just said? She didn’t know this girl, so why was she expressing herself like that? Confusion altered Grace’s features, but it flitted away as soon as it had come. Nell’s words had caught her off guard, but instead of ignoring them like she usually would have, Grace nodded, “No, not at all actually. I have no idea how to flirt, but I think you were flirting with me? I’m not sure, that’s what I felt from you.” Grace clasped a hand over her mouth. What the fuck? She grabbed her glass of water and finished it. Why was she so hot all of a sudden? Grace reached up to fan herself with the collar of her shirt. By now, it had been impossible to hide the embarrassment. What in the world was she doing? Before she was able to stop herself, she spoke, “I just moved here, and you’re like, the first person I can feel things from-- not in a Gay way, but in a emotion way, is that weird?” Grace’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Had she just outed herself not only as Gay, but as an Empath, too? “Wait, I didn’t mean that-- no, wait, I totally did.”

Nell’s lips turned into the slightest of frowns as Grace began to babble. Was the other girl nervous now? Had Nell accidentally made her nervous? What did she mean about feeling, though? “What you felt from me?” she said, latching onto that word. Maybe Grace just meant like...her general vibes or something. “But yeah, I was definitely flirting.” Oh. Okay, apparently the words were just gonna keep coming whether she wanted them too or not. “I mean the gay way is a great way,” Nell answered relexively before once again feeling confusion color her. “Emotion way? I’m confused, what do you mean? Cause I mean that could sound pretty gay to some people,” she tried to joke, uncertain as to what the hell was happening. “You didn’t mean the gay thing or the emotion thing?” All she could do was feel hopelessly lost while asking questions.

Grace stared at Nell, not sure what was happening. Why were her thoughts splitting from between poised lips before she could stop them? “Feeling? Like, I can feel, you-- not you, your thoughts, wait, not that..” Grace’s eyebrows pulled together, now in frustration. “Emotions? I can feel what you’re feeling.” She had just outed herself as an Empath. Great. Maybe Nell wouldn’t believe her, think she was talking nonsense. Though, what was happening to her? “And the gay thing? Yeah, I mean, I meant the flirting in the Gay way, but the emotion thing, that’s real too.” Grace bit down on her lip. Could she just stop talking now? She swallowed nervously, picking up her empty glass of water. The emotions that Nell had been feeling were a mix of confusion and nervousness, which hadn’t been making it any easier on Grace to get herself together. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Grace asked her, making eye contact.

Grace could feel what Nell was feeling? “Like an empath?!” she blurted out, that same tidal wave of excitement overtaking her as she realized Grace might know about the supernatural. “Really? That’s awesome! I’ve actually only met a couple, but that’s cool!” That would have been a great place to end that sentence, but instead her mouth seemed to keep going, any sort of filter she might have had suddenly disappearing. “I’m not normal, either! A witch!” Okay. Maybe it was time to reevaluate what the hell was going on. “I...did not mean to say that. But the gay way is a great way. I’m the bi way.” Jesus, was she ever going to stop talking? Nell was more disturbed than anything that all this seemed to be happening, and a prickle of anger began to make itself known, though it wasn’t directed towards anyone in particular, moreso at the general situation. She didn’t like feeling out of control in this particular way. “Well- all I know is I can’t seem to stop talking, and I can’t fucking lie so that’s-” Her sentence stopped fractured off, realization creeping over her. “Oh shit.”

“How did you know that word?” It was often thrown around, people saying that they felt empathetic towards a situation-- with her, when Renee had died. It had always gotten on her nerves, because nobody aside from her Grandmother had known what it felt like. Grace winced at the sudden shift from confusion to excitement, and like before, she didn’t bother to fight it-- whatever was happening now, Grace had not been able to counterbalance what it was Nell was feeling. “A couple?” Grace said, stare blank. Was it normal? She hadn’t thought she was special, not by a landslide, but she certainly hadn’t met more people like her outside of her own family. “A wi--” Grace gripped the edge of the table. “Witch?” Grace laughed, confused. She stared at Nell and waited for her to continue her sentence. “I can’t either, and I don’t think anything is wrong with my water? The heater shouldn’t be on,” Grace started to get up. Just then, she remembered, “what did you say about being a witch?” Nell had to be lying, right? The anger that had flared in Nell nipped at Grace’s heels. “Can you try to relax?” Grace asked, something she would have never had the gaul to. “Sorry, I just-- I can’t focus when you’re flip flopping like that.” Not that she could focus anyways, this girl’s energy was off the charts.

“Because I know supernatural stuff!” Nell exclaimed with the same level of eagerness she’d had before. “Yeah! I traveled a lot to like- help with supernatural things and stuff, so I met lots of people! And a couple were empaths!” As Grace asked for her to calm, Nell reflexively apologized. “Sorry- I didn’t think- well I mean I didn’t know. That makes sense, though.” Nell was certainly not one to police her emotions. In response, she did her best to calm herself, though an underlying current of curiosity tinged with confusion was still present. Was there maybe some way Grace could...protect herself from emotions? But looking at Grace’s grip on the table, a prickle of dread made itself known in her gut. Was she afraid of witches? “Yeah like- magic and all that. But I’m not a bad-” The sentence cut off of its own accord as the truth serum flexed its strength. If she were telling the truth, Nell wasn’t sure what she was anymore in the realm of good or bad. “I’m not a witch who would hurt you.” There. That worked. “Most don’t.” As for things being wrong. “I might have...mixed up my ingredients now that I think about it. I think one of my sisters might have left the truth serum next to the lemon juice.” Guilt was the next thing to wash through her, though she quickly tried to find a way to dull it. How did one quiet their emotions? “I’m so sorry, though. I didn’t mean to.”

Grace’s eyebrows pulled together-- she was going to form a mass of wrinkles at this point. “Supernatural stuff? That isn’t real” She said, the word sounding off as it left her. She, of course, knew all about the supernatural, but it was contained to television shows and books, not real life. She had been told that her gift as an Empath was a blessing, not something supernatural. She thought she had been a one-off, or, rather, one of many-- some kind of miracle. Grace still wasn’t quite sure what was happening, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever quite understand. Nell was talking about witches, and how she was a witch. How did that make sense? Grace had recalled moments that her Grandmother had gotten their cards read, but she hadn’t ever believed in any of it. Grace couldn’t help but tell the truth every time she spoke, but who was to say that Nell wasn’t pretending? Grace glanced up at Nell again, her expression challenging, “thanks, that’s.. A little bit better.” Straightening up, Grace was finally able to feel a bit of clarity, even if it was muddled in things she didn’t quite understand-- perhaps Nell’s confusion, too, molding with her own. “Tell me something you wouldn’t tell anyone else, then, so I know you aren’t lying that you’re like this, like me too, right now.” Grace felt the worry leak into her words, and she hated herself for it-- hated that she was scared. What was happening to her, and who was this girl?

Oh. Oh no. Rather quickly, Nell came to the retaliation that Grace apparently didn’t know anything other than herself when it came to supernatural things. However, it seemed the truth serum had no interest in letting her go about this gently. “No, it’s real! Or well- I guess supernatural is kinda a funny word for it but like- most of the stuff people think is fake is real! Witches included!” Fuck this truth serum right up the ass. That was Nell’s general take on the situation as her annoyance returned, though she tried to remind herself to keep it muted or whatever it was Grace had asked for. She still wasn’t entirely sure how to do that effectively, though. The other girl’s demand caught Nell off guard, and the words were already leaving her lips before she could even think about trying to restrain them. “I’m pretty convinced all my friends are gonna get tired of me at some point, and just not wanna be friends. It’s always just a matter of time. Honestly it might be for the better, though. All I do is get them hurt or hurt them myself.” Instant horror flooded her as the admission was out, self-consciousness gripping her in its clutches as she wished there was some way to get them back. Trying to distract from what she’d said, she quickly asked Grace, “Alright, now your turn to tell me. You shouldn’t have asked me that without warning.”

Still, Grace didn’t believe Nell. She didn’t have a reason to believe her. She had just met her, after all. And now? This was happening, whatever this was. It still confused Grace, leaving her mind to run a mile a minute, to try and piece together every single logical reason that this could be happening. Grace watched Nell in silence, not sure if she wanted to keep opening her mouth, because if she did, what would come out? Grace knew it was a longshot, getting the truth out of Nell, and she could easily lie-- after all, she didn’t know her. It had been stupid to even suggest it as a test, but when Nell speaks, Grace’s jaw slackened. It could be a lie, still, Grace didn’t know what to believe, but her words dug into her heart, as if she could understand and the emotion that Nell felt after speaking those words, they seemed real enough. Grace opened her mouth to speak, but shut it, not knowing exactly what to say. The embarrassment and anxiety that Nell had been feeling was beginning to leak into Grace, and when Nell asked her the same question in return, Grace felt the dread take home in her heart. “I--” Grace began, knuckles turned pale against the table as she gripped it, “I could have saved my best friend, I think-- I felt her die, I felt her die and I didn’t stop it, I felt her, she was scared.” Grace’s voice broke and she reached up to cover her mouth, eyes widening in response to her own words. “What the fuck.”

Nell waited not so patiently for Grace to answer the question, ready to hear whatever it was Grace had to offer, and gloss over what she’d just let loose from her own lips against her will. But she still wasn’t prepared for what Grace said next. Shit. Sympathy filled her, wanting to reach out to Grace. It was mixed with her own flash of pain as she thought of what it had been like to watch her sister die. “I-” Nell hesitated, unsure what to say at a time like this. Was it wrong to comfort someone over something they probably didn’t actually want to admit to? “Did you want to...talk about it?” It was the best she could do. She’d never been the best at dealing with emotional situations, and this was the only thing she could think to say when she was taken by surprise. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should have realized that it wasn’t the fucking lemon. Or taste tested it or something.”

Whatever was happening, Grace hated it. Hated the way that it brought sympathy to Nell’s gaze, hated the way that it filled Grace with her own sense of sympathy, not for herself, but for Nell, because she could feel a wave of fear and discomfort roll over her. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.” At least she could prove now that when somebody asked her what was wrong, she didn’t want to talk about it, and she wasn’t trying to save face. “It was a long time ago,” Grace said quietly, her gaze now leveled with Nell’s. She wasn’t sure what to do or say now, because while it may not have been a secret, it was something painful to Grace’s history that made her who she was today. She looked at Nell, “what do you mean you thought it was lemon?” She wasn’t sure what she was getting at. The pain from her confession still rolled deep in the pit of her belly making it hard to concentrate on anything else. “What’s going on?” Grace asked, confusion further coloring her tone.

“Alright then,” Nell replied patiently, knowing better than to push. When people had tried to make her talk after Bea’s death, and she hadn’t wanted to, she’d been more likely to offer them her fist than her words. By now she’d learned that forcing things out of people was rarely effective, even if she still tried it every now and then. But this wasn’t one of those times. Still, she chewed on the inside of her lip, toying with the thought of saying one last thing on the matter. “Just cause it was a long time ago doesn’t mean it doesn’t still fuck you up.” Maybe she could have said that more gracefully, but it didn’t seem that there was room in the truth serum for that. “The truth serum,” Nell repeated the words from earlier. “It just...makes it so you can’t lie. I accidentally switched it with the lemon juice ingredient in the food.” Certainly this was all a bit much for Grace, though. Especially if she’d only known about empaths before this moment when it came to the world of the supernatural. “Okay so...this is probably a lot. Sorry I sort of just blurted everything out. The truth serum makes it kinda hard not to, though. But if we just chill for like...two seconds, I can explain everything.” Perhaps this would be a longer dinner than she’d anticipated.

Grace hadn’t expected that when she opened the door, she’d be faced with recalling Renee’s death. She didn’t think she’d be forced to say it, either. Though, there she was, sitting across from a girl she had just met, laying her past out before her. It had to be true, what Nell said then, that there was truth serum. “I thought that shit was locked behind the doors of the CIA, or some other weird ass organization,” Grace admitted. Maybe her own conspiracy theories would come to light, too. “I thought it was fake, but--” Grace carded her fingers through her hair. She wasn’t sure what was going on, or if she could believe her, but why else would Grace willingly let her secrets fly? “I--” Grace looked at Nell, and it did seem like she had sincerity in her, and wouldn’t it make sense that if it were a truth serum, and that she had eaten it too, she’d have to tell the truth? Grace wasn’t sure if she could believe her, but instead of fighting it, she shrugged, “fine, yeah, go ahead.”

#drug manipulation tw #ch:grace #chatzy #when life gives you lemons #wickedswriting

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for-fucks-sake-h · 5 years

Text

Smooth Operator: Part One

Word Count: 7.2k // Rated: M, mature // Story Page

*Y/N’s texts are in italics. Harry’s texts are in bold.*

The oc version of this story can be found on Wattpad.

***

She’s exhausted. Exhausted isn’t even the word anymore. What would be the word for being so overworked, lonely, and horny all at the same time? Excruciating? Sure, that works.

Her job was grueling but she loved it. She worked hard for it. After years of schooling and months applying to positions she dreamed of, she was offered the opportunity of a lifetime as a lead forensic anthropologist. All of the blood, sweat, and tears to get her masters so she would be able to work in the field of her dreams paid off. She packed her entire life up in a week’s time and moved across the world to make a home for herself in London.

It’s been eight months and while she has had the time of her life working at a job she put her entire soul into, she can’t help but admit that it’s lonely sometimes. It’s long days of meticulous work that makes her so happy but also completely drains her by the end of it. So, that doesn’t leave her with much energy for a social life. And if she’s being honest with herself, being outgoing doesn’t come naturally for her. She’s adjusting, slower than she would like, but she’s proud of the progress she’s made so far and the life she’s built.

She left a lot of things back home; her family, her friends, a man that she thought she loved but was not as torn up about the departure as she thought he would be. She said goodbye to the only life she knew for the last 26 years to start a completely fresh chapter. A chapter she hoped would be filled with warm memories, success, and happiness.

She’s grateful for the job she gets to do. Beyond happy that she gets to do something she loves and live a comfortable life in one of the best cities in the world. She has met some amazing people in the time she’s been here. She’s gotten to work with some of the top anthropologists in the world, has seen the most amazing research, and has gotten to be involved in the biggest case study her company has done thus far. And she’s been lucky enough to make some friends that she easily considers family now.

El and Bec, short for Elizabeth and Rebecca, have become the closest friends she’s ever had. For not knowing each other that long in the grand scheme of things, they have woven each other into each of their lives as if they were always meant to be there. They work together often on specific cases and to be able to work with people who are brilliant at what they do and also just brilliant people is rare and beautiful.

It was only about a month after she moved there that she would be spending her first Christmas alone. She definitely wasn’t established enough to be able to afford the time off or the travel expenses to go home for the holiday so she resided herself to the idea of a Skype call with her family on Christmas Day and Christmas movies on her couch in her pajamas. However, El and Bec had different plans and invited her to spend the holiday with them.

Bec comes from a big Italian family who graciously makes the trip to her every year and spends nearly a month with her from mid December until after the New Year. El and Bec have spent the last three Christmas’ together, with El having lived in London since she was little but without much close family nearby anymore, they started the tradition together.

When she mentioned her plans of Chinese food and pj's for Christmas, El and Bec shared a look before El sweetly asked - no, begged - her to join them instead. She tried to decline at first but they weren’t hearing it. So she kissed her dog on the head as he snoozed on the couch and trekked herself to the train to arrive at Bec’s flat with a bottle of wine in tow.

With two quiet knocks to the door she was immediately bombarded with the smell of what she could only imagine was homemade sauce and the sound of laughter when an older man, who she would come to know as Bec’s dad, opened the door for her. He welcomed her with a kiss to each cheek and ushered her into the flat, offering to take her coat and wine from her. And as she nervously made her way further into the space she was greeted with a multitude of warm, brown eyes - all matching Bec’s.

“Don’t just stand there bella, get in here! We’re playing Rummy!” A boisterous voice came from the corner of the kitchen. A woman, dressed to the nines with beautiful chocolate brown hair and big, dark eyes smiled at her and waved her over. She should have known it was Bec’s mom. They have the same inviting smile and nurturing persona.

And so she did. She played Rummy and laughed with everyone and even cracked a joke about a hula hoop that wasn’t really funny, but her delivery got everyone into a fit of giggles. She ate Eggplant Parmesan with them, passing full dishes around of all the other food so everyone could get a little bit of everything. She talked about her move and her family over coffee with Bec, her mom, and El as the rest of the family watched Elf in the living room. Later in the evening, when it was starting to get late and things were dying down, she was sat next to Bec’s dad while she played silent night on a keyboard that was situated against the far wall of the flat.

They bonded more that night than friends bond over the course of months. Instantly clicking as if they had known each other for years. And now here they are.

“Rocco, get down! God!” Y/N exaggerated as she pulled the dogs paws from Bec’s shoulders as he tried to sneak one more lick to her face.

“He’s fine babe!” Bec chuckles as she kneels down to hug the big dog.

“This is every time, just let her make out with him for a minute and he’ll be fine,” El chimes in as she tries to step over Bec and Rocco’s display of love currently taking place on the floor.

“I know, I don’t know why I bother,” Y/N says as she takes the bags from El’s arms and pointedly looks at Bec still on the floor with Rocco still licking her face.

“Not my fault your dog loves me more than you,” Bec mumbles followed by a squeak when the dog wet willies her. “You know what Rocco, you always have to take it too far, don’t you buddy? Men!”

The other two girls are giggling at Bec’s exasperated tone as she pushes herself up off the floor. This is nearly every Saturday. The girls come over to Y/N’s flat with some kind of food in hand. Bec immediately falls to the floor to cuddle Rocco while the other girls go straight to the kitchen to pour drinks.

“What are we having?!” Bec asks excitedly and a little breathless when she comes around the corner.

“Peach Bellinis!” Y/N says with a smile as she hands her friend a glass. “I have bagels for us too. Did you guys bring the stuff for the omelettes?”

“Sure did, even went as far to get the really expensive cheese just for you, Y/N.” El talks with her back to the other girls as she empties the bags on the counter.

“Um, I like that cheese too,” Bec chimes in with a pout before taking a sip of her drink. “Fuck! This is really good!”

“Alright, let’s not guzzle it, babe,” Y/N laughs as she pours some oil in the pan to saute the mushrooms El is handing to her.

They fall into easy chatter as Y/N makes their omelettes while El throws a couple bagels in the toaster. Before long she’s plating their omelettes and scooping fresh fruit onto the dish as well. El has the bagels and spreads on a plate in the center of the island as Bec refills their drinks. They get situated around the counter and start to dig in but Y/N doesn’t get further than two bites before there’s a knock on her door.

“Why is this everything fucking weekend?” she rolls her eyes as she chuckles, pushing her stool back from the island.

She basically stomps her way over to her door, pulling it open quickly with a bemused look on her face. “Hello Andrew,” she says flatly.

“Hey babe, you busy?” He smiles.

Andrew, her neighbor, appears at her door almost every weekend, usually perfectly timed while the girls are over.

“You already know I am.”

“I know you have bagels in there too, Y/N. Spare one for your favorite neighbor and I’ll be on my way.”

She huffs as she leaves him in the doorway to go back to the kitchen. Bec and El’s eyes are already on her when she turns the corner.

“Pain in the ass wants a bagel!” She exclaims loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re such a fucking leech, Drew!” Bec calls out to him.

The girls are giggling as Y/N fixes the damn bagel quickly, wrapping it up in a napkin to deliver it to him.

“You’re the best, Y/N.” His smile is huge as she walks over to him with her arm extending the food out to him. “You got plans tonight? I can repay you with dinner at mine.”

“Aw, I can’t Drew, I have a submission due Monday for my case and still have a lot to go over.”

“No biggie, next time.” He says casually with a smile, “Have a great day, ladies!” He calls to the girls in the kitchen as he gives Y/N a wink before turning to go back to his apartment next door.

“Think he’s in love with you,” Bec says as Y/N is coming back into the kitchen.

“I don’t know,” Y/N releases a puff of air before continuing, “He’s really nice but I don’t want to lead him on.”

“Just fuck him already, put him out of his misery.” El chuckles around a bite of food.

“I just said I don’t want to lead him on!” Y/N laughs as she climbs onto her stool again. “You guys know I don’t have time to start that right now.”

“You can just sleep with him Y/N,” Bec interjects, “You don’t have to date him.”

“He’s cute and all but I just don’t see him like that. He’s a friend. Which sucks because it would be convenient with him being next door and all.” Y/N laughs lightly.

“So convenient!” Bec chuckles sarcastically.

“Yeah, if the most enticing thing is the convenience it’s not worth it,” El says before taking an exceptionally large bite of her bagel.

“My thoughts exactly,” Y/N agrees, “It does suck though. I haven’t even been on a date since moving here, let alone had sex. Not that anyone is knocking down my door-”

“Andrew is,” Bec interrupts with a chuckle, “literally.”

“You don’t really put yourself out there either babe,” El says softly.

“I know. You know how I get. I’m nervous meeting new people and honestly I’m too tired most of the time to even go out and try.”

“Yeah, but what are you gonna do, never have sex again?” Bec questions with her eyes wide as saucers.

“Even if I did go out, I can’t do one night stands. I just can’t get into if I don’t know the person. Which blows because my vibrator is seriously lacking lately.”

“Sounds like nothing’s blowing,” Bec mumbles before getting a whack to her arm from El.

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the girls finish their food. El leans back in her chair with her drink in hand, “What about phone sex?”

Y/N chuckles, “What about it?”

“Would you be into it?”

It’s quiet for another moment, all three of the girls eyes flicking back and forth between the others.

“I dunno, sure. I mean, what am I gonna do, just try to find a random guy to call?” Y/N chuckles.

“Alright, don’t shoot me down before you really listen, okay?” El says, eyes intent on her friends. “I have a friend that has used this service that you can call. You pick someone based on their profile.”

“And have phone sex with them? I don’t think so.” Y/N shakes her head, immediately put off with the idea.

“I just said to hear me out!”

“That just doesn’t sound like something I would like.”

“Y/N,” Bec says quietly, both of her friends looking at her with raised eyebrows.

She opens her mouth to speak again, to knock the idea out of their heads, but instead decides to huff and close her mouth again. These girls care about her, she brought up something that’s bothering her and they’re trying to find a solution, like good friends. The least she could do was listen. So she grabs her drink again, takes a big gulp and leans back in her chair as a motion to continue.

El takes another swig of her drink before continuing, “You wouldn’t have to leave your flat. You wouldn’t even have to leave your bed. No getting ready, no going out to sketchy bars meeting sketchier guys.”

“In theory, yes, it sounds like a good idea. But I don’t like one night stands. You think I’ll be able to just call someone and have phone sex with them?” Y/N questions, speaking quickly as she tries to explain to her friends why this isn’t for her. “Where’s the intimacy?”

“That’s the thing though, you could have intimacy,” El argues. “They have very in depth profiles. Everything from physical features, what they’re into sexually, what books they like-”

“The books they like?” Y/N questions with a raised brow.

“Yes, the whole point is for you to build a connection with someone. The workers want to build a connection with you too. It’s not like a sleazy phone service you’re thinking it is. They get off with you.”

“Shit... can I get the number?” Bec chimes in with bright eyes and a raised brow.

They’re all quiet for a few seconds before breaking into laughter, giggling into their drinks as the tenseness in the room dies down. And as the laughter subsides Y/N thinks about how much she trusts her friends. They only want to help.

“Alright, I’ll look at it. No promises!” Y/N points her finger back and forth between her friends.

“Where’s your laptop? I’ll bookmark it for you,” El says as she pushes her chair back while grabbing her plate.

“On the coffee table.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Sounds pretty good to me,” Bec says with an optimistic smile as El puts her dish in the sink and goes to plop down on the sofa. “You might like it.”

“Maybe. It would take the hassle of actually going out to the bar. I hate going to the bar, the men are always shit.” Y/N laughs as Bec raised her glass to clink it against hers and finishes off her drink.

“There!” El says excitedly as she closes the laptop. “Just take a look at it. You never know.”

Y/N agrees that she’ll look at it later, reiterating that if it doesn’t seem like something she can get into they’ll have to squash it. The girls stayed for another few hours, snuggled up on the couch to watch Pretty Woman as they sipped their Bellinis. They helped Y/N straighten up her kitchen before giving cheek kisses and “see you Monday” promises were called from the door.

Later that evening, after spending nearly four hours working on her case, she carried her laptop into her room to toss it on her bed as she went to take a quick shower. It was nearly 11pm when she was finished doing her normal nighttime routine of lathering herself with daisy scented body lotion and face moisturizer.

She climbed into bed with wet hair to scroll through some of her social media but paused as soon as she clicked on the browser, her eyes immediately going to the little bookmark below her search bar that El labeled give me a try. She hovered her mouse over it for a moment before clicking on it.

She was brought to a sign up prompt asking for basic info like her name, email, age, etc. She filled in the fields and accepted the terms, her heart rate picking up a tiny bit before clicking continue only to be prompted with another set of questions. She noticed the bottom of the page was number 2 of 6, making her huff with a shake of her head as she closed her laptop.

She sat there for a minute, fingers tapping on the top of the computer before slowly opening it again. She went through the rest of the questions slowly, asking her what her sexual preferences were, kinks, fantasies; questions that would help narrow down her choices of profiles and suggestions.

The last question was a simple “What are you looking for?” with a four prompt answer just like the others. She clicked the last choice, I don’t know.

She really didn’t know. She was still very skeptical about the whole thing. But she accepted the terms, entered her credit card information, and was met with a list of 50 initial matches.

She started clicking on random profiles, coming across detailed pages of men describing themselves, their nationality, physical features like eye color, hair color, build. There were lists of their favorite food, TV shows they like, books they love, just like El said. There was a section for their sexual interests, each profile listing what they were into both in real life and over the phone. And each profile had a voice memo.

She looked through a few of them, liking certain things from each page but no one really standing out. If she was honest with herself, she was probably taking the profile too seriously. Should she be basing her decision on the books they’re reading and the food they like as much as what they like sexually? Probably not. But she couldn’t help herself. If she was going to do this she wanted to actually be able to talk to him, build some type of connection, just a small one so that it didn’t feel so impersonal.

She scrolled down another page when the user name Smooth Operator caught her eye, making her chuckle lightly. She clicked on his profile and started scanning through his answers to the prompts; green eyes, brown hair, six foot. He was British, 25 years old, and enjoyed playing the guitar in his spare time.

He likes books like Rob Sheffield’s Love is a Mix Tape. Okay, that earned him a point. She went through the rest of his profile, laughing at the little quips he gave as answers. He seemed light and funny, if she could judge him based solely on his profile. She read what he liked during sex, her cheeks going warm at some of the things listed.

They seemed to be on the same page with interests. That was one of the things about Y/N though, she wasn’t into anything hardcore but she also didn’t want to just label herself vanilla either. She just couldn’t express the things she really wanted unless she knew the person, until she felt safe with them. That was one of the main reasons she didn’t like one night stands. She could never bring herself to get comfortable enough to enjoy it. The couple she had were quick, sloppy, missionary fucks that didn’t get her off and left her feeling unsatisfied physically and emotionally. She needed the emotions too.

Smooth Operator seemed like he wanted the same thing, mentioning one of the things he liked about this site was the unique connections he’s able to build with his clients. She read over his profile two times, biting her lip as she paused her cursor over his voice memo before clicking play.

“Hello, ‘m sure it’s probably weird to be on the receiving end of this but… If ya consider me, thank you, it would be an honor to talk with you. If not, I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking fo’. Cheers.”

Her pulse picked up just at the few simple sentences. His voice was deep, so deep and he spoke so slowly. Something that would probably take her 10 seconds to say took him 15, but she liked it. He seemed unhurried, and sweet, and actually keen on conversation - not just having a wank at the sound of someone's voice and being done with it - so she clicked the accept button beside his username before she could talk herself out of it.

Her heart fluttered at the text field immediately popping up.

Thank you for choosing me! -H.

She realized quickly that it was just an automated message but it still made her heart flutter. She was definitely nervous. She sat there staring at her computer screen, not knowing what to do next. How does this work? Can she just message him? How quickly would they talk on the phone? How much time does he really give to talking before he’s moving the conversation to sex. It was the unknown that made her the most nervous.

Her eyes flick over to the glowing “Online” next to his username and just as quickly she notices the three tiny dots that appear in the text box. Shit.

Hi there. Thanks for choosing me. How are you? x

Alright, this is happening. She takes a deep breath before slowly typing her response with slightly shaky hands.

Hey! Of course. I really liked your profile. I’m good, can’t really complain. Nervous if anything. This is my first time on here.

Nothing to be nervous about. I’m a gentleman. Promise. My names Harry.

Of course it is, she thought. Of course he has a cute name.

Y/N. Nice to “meet” you Harry, haha.

A pleasure. What brings you on here?

She pauses for a second, shouldn’t that be pretty obvious? What with the nature of the website and its purpose? But in all honesty, she wasn’t sure what she was doing on there. She watched as the tiny dots appeared again before another message came through.

Share whatever you’re comfortable with.

He was sweet. She was also taking a really long time to answer.

Ha, thanks. I don’t really know. My friend told me about the site. I moved here a little less than a year ago and I work a lot. I’m not really into the bar scene but I guess I’m just looking for some companionship. And I haven’t had sex in a while, to be honest. Not really into one night stands but too busy to really start anything serious. So here I am.

She figured there was no reason to tiptoe around it. They both knew what the site was for, regardless of the connection either of them were looking to make.

Well I hope I can help. Whether you’re looking for someone to talk to or if you want to have an orgasm so you can fall asleep easily, I’m here. What do you do for work?

Her heart was pounding, guessing he didn’t see the point of tiptoeing around either. She liked how blunt he was, how he just laid it out there that he was down for either. And also how he kept the conversation going. She thought about if she should really tell him about her job. But the site was guaranteed 100% anonymous, if that was what you wanted.

That sounds great, Harry. I’m a forensic anthropologist.

What sounds great? The conversation or the orgasm?

She smirked at his reply. Okay, he’s cheeky.

Both? Both.

Good :) Forensic anthropologist? That’s fucking sick.

She smiled as his response, liking him already. He was easy to talk to, their conversation flowing without much effort. She told him a bit about her job and how she moved from the states. He told her how he works from home as an IT Tech and gives guitar lessons on the side, that he has a love for music and smart girls. They flirted, quick banter back and forth that had her smiling and blushing multiple times.

It was getting late and as much as she didn’t want to stop talking to him, she thought it was best to not get too carried away so quickly. As much as she’s enjoyed it, the whole thing still made her a bit leery. Talking to him made it easier, but she didn’t want to admit that yet.

It’s getting late, I should probably go to bed. It was really great talking to you, Harry. Talk to you soon xx

Looking forward to it x

***

He hasn’t been able to get her off his mind. It’s been a little over a week since they initially spoke and he couldn’t help but wonder if she had second thoughts about the whole thing. She seemed like she enjoyed talking to him. She gave him the lol’s at his lame jokes and came back at him with thick sarcasm and quick wit when she could.

He couldn’t remember the last time he really enjoyed a conversation like that, especially with it being their first. He has regular clients now that he’s built relationships with over time. But Y/N? It felt so easy with her. He wanted to know more about her. Things that interested her, what she was passionate about.

He also couldn’t help but wonder what a whimpered moan would sound like coming from her. He felt a little ashamed when the thought crossed his mind when she wrote “mmm” about a piece of chocolate cake that had her name on it for breakfast the next morning. His dick twitched at the thought, reacting without his permission before he even had the chance to think otherwise. That also hardly ever happened anymore. He’s been doing this for a while now and while sometimes he meets people that he clicks with relatively easy, he doesn’t get hard unless the conversation takes an obvious turn there.

He liked her.

He could have messaged her but he really didn’t like doing that, at least until they start to talk semi-regularly. He wants his clients to be comfortable and he definitely never wants them to feel any pressure. He thought about sending her a quick message anyway. Even going as far to type “Still here if you need me” into their text field before changing it to “Still here if you want me” but quickly deciding against it.

He never does this. He usually just follows his instincts and does whatever feels natural to him. She’s clouding his judgement though. He knew she was nervous the first night, understandably. He knows the circumstances are odd, having been doing this for a few years may have made him comfortable but definitely did not make him oblivious to reality. It was definitely odd. But he wanted her to reach out to him again and he wasn’t used to that.

More days passed as he found himself checking his messages to see if one came through from her yet. Once it had been two full weeks and he started to think he should just let it go. She was definitely not into this scenario. Or not into him, but choosing that she just didn’t like the circumstances to preserve his ego.

It was a little after 9pm as he was sprawled out on his couch watching The Notebook when he heard a faint ping come from his computer across the room. His heart dropped, his initial reaction to be hopeful that it was Y/N. He knew it was a message from his site from the sound but just as quickly as he thought maybe it was her he dismissed it, deciding to ignore it and focus his attention back on the film. Until he heard another ping, and another.

His curiosity got the best of him as he paused the movie and went over to open the laptop. He was leaning over the table, clicking to open his messages when his heart dropped into his stomach.

Hi Harry

I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA lately. I’ve been working on a huge case that I just finally wrapped up.

Anyway, didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.

Three messages one after another from Y/N. He smiled at the last one, she “didn’t want him to think she forgot about him”. So she’s been thinking about me, he thought. He pulled out the desk chair to get comfortable before replying.

It’s alright love. Everything turn out okay?

Yes, everything is good. It was just a lot. I’m so exhausted I feel like I could sleep for days haha.

There was nothing about her reply that should have made his heart flutter, but it did. He wanted her to get rest. He wanted her to get rest with him wrapped around her, holding her to his body. He furrowed his eyebrows as soon as he finished his thoughts. What was he doing? He barely knew this girl but the thought of holding her made him feel like a teenage boy the first time he talked to the opposite sex.

You should sleep while you have the time babe

He shook his head at himself as his cheeks burned once he realized he called her babe. He was typing out an apology, an explanation that wasn't really an explanation at all as to why he called her that when she replied before him.

Okay BABE lol I don’t want to sleep though…

His heart was pounding, both from her sarcastic babe in return and waiting for her to continue.

I would rather talk to you.

He took in a deep breath, reminding himself to chill. This was his job, this was what he was suppose to do and he needed to chill the fuck out.

Do you want to call me?

His pulse was racing, pumping blood into his cock at the thought of hearing her. She was all he’s thought about for the last couple weeks and now the thought of being able to hear her had him riled up already.

I was thinking we could text for now? Just not ready to talk on the phone yet. Hope that’s okay with you…

If he was being honest, texting was a lot harder for him. Of course he would do it but it took a lot more effort to try to gauge what she liked through text. On the phone, Harry could listen to her breathing pick up, he could hear a small moan escape her lips at something he says. Tell tale signs that she likes what he’s saying and fueling him to continue. All he has through texts are her words and all he could do is hope that she would be open with him.

Of course love. What are you doing now?

I just took the longest shower and now I’m in bed. I know, 9:30pm on a Saturday. Really living on the edge lol. What about you?

He chuckles at her response. She’s animated through texts. He feels like he can read her smirk and he likes it.

Lol my evening doesn’t look much different. Serious question though… are you a pajama wearer?

I’m more of a big t shirt kinda girl

Okay that’s good

Is it?

He bites his lip, debating what he should say. He wants to tell her that he likes it because then there wouldn’t be much in the way for him to get his hands on her skin. Warm from her shower and extra soft from the lotion she probably uses. But there is a part of him that wants to let her lead the conversation. He’s never been this torn trying to talk to someone.

I think it is.

He shakes his head at himself as he stares at the screen. He’s being weird, he knows he is. The minutes pass as he waits to see the three small dots indicating she’s typing, his pulse picking up the longer he doesn’t see them. Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe she isn’t impressed with his weak conversation. He twists the silver band he always has on his right middle finger as he waits, releasing a breath when he finally sees the dots.

Is it because that’s the only thing you would have to take off?

He blows air through his lips mouthing a thank you that she responded and said exactly what he was too afraid to say. She definitely wants this to happen. She wouldn’t have said that if he she didn’t.

That’s exactly why. Could get my hands on you the way I really want to.

Yeah? Are you in bed too?

He smiles at her reply. She wants them to be in bed at the same time. Hopefully so she can imagine them in bed together. He stands from his desk, unplugs his laptop and walks upstairs to his room to get into his bed.

I am now. And yeah, of course I do. Really want to feel you love

His heart was beating quickly as he typed his response, the beating increasing once he sent it. He didn’t want to come across too forward or make her uncomfortable but he wanted to be honest. He wanted her to know that he wanted her.

I want you to touch me too

Just those words had his lower stomach twisting deliciously and his dick twitching in his sweats. He was leaning back against his headboard with his laptop in his lap, his cock pressing against the bottom of the computer.

Tell me how you like to be touched

No one has ever really asked me that before. Um, my neck is really sensitive

So if I kissed down your neck to your chest, that would turn you on?

Mhm, so much Harry

He was trying to gauge how dirty she wanted to be talked to. Everyone was different, and that was usually something he could tell pretty easily over the phone. If her voice was breathy right now with a sort of whine of his name, she would want more. Something told him she did like it, so he went with instinct for the first time.

What about your clit? Is that sensitive too?

Fuck, yeah so sensitive

Bingo, he thought. All the blood in his body was pulsing to his dick now. He reached down to stroke himself over his sweats, wanting to relieve a little bit of pressure. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had gotten this hard this fast. She’s barely said anything yet he feels like his cock is screaming for attention.

Can you touch it for me? Circle it slow.

Just a little bit of pressure, Y/N. Barely tease yourself until you can’t take anymore.

He told her what to do, what he wanted to do so desperately. His mind was forming a picture of her spread open in front of him, her center dripping as he teased over her clit while she begged for more.

Oh my god Harry

It’s good right? Got you proper soaked?

Yeah I’m really wet. God.

He swallowed back a moan at her words, at the thought of her laying in her bed touching herself, doing exactly what he told her to do.

Fuck. Good, go a little faster yeah? Can you dip a finger into yourself? Bring some of that wetness up to your clit for me

He was squirming more and more as he told her how to touch herself. He wanted to hear her moan for him. To know what she sounded like when she couldn’t handle how much pleasure she was feeling. He was imagining what the noises of her fingers on her wet skin sounded like. God, he hoped she really was soaked right now. Soaked for him.

Shit Harry. I’m close already

His eyes rolled back and he pressed his head back into the headboard, whispering a quiet shit to himself as his hips pushed his cock against the computer more. He was dying to touch himself but not enough to stop typing.

I want you to cum. Please cum love

Fuck

He got that one word from her and then nothing for a couple moments. His breathing was heavy as he waited, his cock pulsing and his skin feeling like it was on fire he was so tingly. All he could think about is Y/N rolling her hips with the rhythm of her fingers until she came. He hoped she came hard.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw the three dots appear at the bottom of their thread again.

Wow

Not what I was expecting

His heart dropped again at her messages. Fuck, she didn’t like it? He was way too forward with her, he thought. He shouldn’t have gone right into it like that so quickly.

Shit, I’m sorry. I thought that was what you wanted..

It won’t happen again. Promise. Fuck

Harry omg I didn’t mean it as a bad thing! Relax. I loved it. I just meant I didn’t expect it to be that good.

I really thought it would be weird. Awkward, you know?

He let out a huge breath at her response. He really thought he fucked up with that one. That his instinct was just him convincing him that was what she wanted because that was what he actually wanted.

Don’t ever do that to me again lol I think we just click really well. I’m happy you enjoyed it.

And I really hope you orgasmed.

He wanted her to know that it wasn’t just talk. He wanted to make her feel good. That was the whole point of his job but for her, he had this extra need deep in his gut to make sure she was taken care of. Completely satisfied.

Oh I did. Don’t you worry about that.

Lol good. I never want you to go along with anything just to do it. The only way this works is if you’re honest with me and let me know what you’re thinking.

He was being honest with her in the hopes that it made her comfortable enough to be honest in return, to hopefully build more of a connection with him so that she could trust him. So that she would believe that he really was focused on making her feel good.

Deal.

That was good. Perfect even.

Are you sure you’re not just a narcissist?

Kidding.. kind of lol

He barked a laugh at her messages. She was playful just in the way she typed, her personality shining through the words like a ray of sunlight he wanted to burn into his skin.

Hahaha maybe a little ;)

What about you? There’s no way you were doing anything and typing at the same time.

Don’t worry about me love. This was about you. Plenty of time for me in the future.

His cock pulsed in annoyance as he typed. It was starting to get uncomfortable. He either needed to take a cold shower or come, leaning towards the first option because he wasn’t even sure he could touch himself without it hurting now.

Maybe next time we could focus on you? Or do it at the same time?

His heart fluttered at her response. That she wanted to make sure he felt good too.

Absolutely x

Just one more question then I’ll let you go

He was breathing deeply through his nose, his mouth dry as he watched the three dots come and go, waiting for her to continue. He didn’t want her to let him go.

Will you get yourself off once we’re done talking?

His lips quirked up in a smile.

Oh you like guys wanking do you?

Lol maybe

I might. It’s starting to… hurt. I’ve been hard for a while now.

I hope you get off Harry. And I hope you think of me when you do..

I would help but honestly I can barely keep my eyes open

His cock twitched again at her words. Fuck, who was this girl and what was she doing to him? He smiled as he typed the same response she gave him not too long ago.

Oh I will love. Don’t you worry about that.

You can help next time

Mm, good. Good night Harry x

Sleep tight Y/N xx

He watched her glowing online turn to grey before he threw his laptop to the side and pushed his sweats down to the middle of his thighs, not even bothering to take them off before he wrapped his hand around his cock.

His head fell back against the headboard with a thump as he stroked himself at a faster pace than he would normally start with. His cock was dripping precum and throbbing as he stroked his thumb over his tip.

He lifted his head up to watch his hand stroke his taut skin, his mouth hanging open in pleasure as he pushed himself closer to his orgasm. It only took four more pumps until he was coming. One, two, three squirts of cum flowing over his tip and down his fingers as he moaned deep from his chest.

His entire body relaxed, slumping against the headboard with his softening cock against his thigh and cum on his hand and pelvis. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath as he came down, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his temple.

There was a part of him that thought he should be embarrassed by how hard he just came but he couldn’t be bothered as he sat in this post orgasm bliss.

Fuck, he thought, this girl is going to kill me.

***

masterlist || ask

(Part Two)

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #smooth operator

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blasfumi · 3 years

Text

I’m going home to Missouri in a few days so here’s some food recs from Seattle after a year here

Dough Zone - It’s a dumpling chain and frankly a nice one. They actually put the correct amount of umami into their pork soup dumplings and Q baos - this is one of the few places in America other than my mother’s dinner table where a soup dumpling has tasted the way it SHOULD. I grew up eating dumplings in Xi-An, and frankly it tastes like my childhood. It’s also a lot less expensive that Din Tai Fung, which I see as kind of a major plus.

Piroshky Piroshky - Unlike what you may suspect, actually not a tourist trap! Actually kind of worth the money - it just happens to be located in a tourist trap location. Their salmon is absolutely delicious and it’s what got them famous. You can call and order some frozen pierogis to go - Larry has like 3 bags of them in our freezer right now hahahaha. Please eat warm - you should not enjoy this cold.

FOB Poke - They have just like. So many options for protein. They even give you a heaping helping of scallop? Everyone knows that’s my favorite go-to. It’s very very nice. Their rice is also made with like jasmine tea or something and I think it makes me feel healthier about eating a ton of carbs. It’s a long trip though so sometimes I just get my scallop poke from Uwajimaya instead but like it’s not the same.

Mama’s Kitchen - Get their rib bibimbap. They actually put like whole ribs in it it’s amazing. They also are one of the few places that actually give you quality vegetables in your bibimbap (kimchi, marinated mushrooms, roots, etc) instead of just like sliced cucumber and carrot sticks.

Milkie Milkies - Bingsoo. Just. Bingsoo.

Kochi Po-Cha - Arguably my favorite korean fried chicken place. The sauces are so good but even the regular flavored chicken gets my mouth watering, and that’s impressive because I usually feel very little towards plain fried chicken.

Mommy’s Kitchen - Not to be confused with Mama’s Kitchen. Actually THE BEST butter chicken I’ve ever had in my life. I didn’t like Indian food until I had them and they have stunningly convinced me to eat EGGPLANT. If you know me, you know I’m not a picky eater but I absolutely HATE eggplant. THEIR EGGPLANT IS GOOD.

Yomies - Asian-style yogurt. I drove Damon there and ever since everyone in my friend group is obsessed with this place. We even considered making a “Yomies Fund” just to make sure we could buy Yomies at least once a week hahaha. I really suggest their Strawberry or Purple Rice with Red Bean flavor. This is a really popular brand from Taiwan and unlike Sharetea I think it deserves any attention it can get.

Musashi - Get their Chirashi bowl. It’s $19 (they’re famous for the inexpensive cost of it) and honestly tastes so good. I hate that sushi costs so much everywhere in America except California and whenever I get a sushi itch I usually default to Musashi because it’s honestly the only sushi that’s worth your buck.

Hong Kong Dim Sum - Honestly it’s embarrassing how much money I spent Uber Eating this place, and the reason it’s on this list isn’t because it’s super delicious but moreso because I gotta acknowledge the restaurant that kept me going through quarantine. Many a lonely night was spent on my bed, eating their take out, listening to Youtube because I needed to hear human voices and eat warm food that I didn’t have to make myself. They got me through a lot of executive dysfunction. Their dim sum is hit or miss but some of the menu items are nice comfort food. Top Suggestions: Seabass Tofu Caly Pot, Baked BBQ Pork Bun, Baked Egg Custard Bun

That’s all I can think of for now. I have a lot of favorite dishes of mine that I want to find in Seattle, and I’ll update this list as I go if I find anything impressive. In terms of my credibility I can say that I did grow up in China so I actually have quite high standards for Chinese cooking, and while I’m not a picky eater I definitely find food oftentimes more unsatisfying than not. I do believe though that an important factor in eating out is cost, so I don’t consider a lot of places that have amazing food but also exorbitant prices. I think that kind of culture is frankly an example of why capitalism fails us sometimes, so I like to keep all my suggestions under $20 if possible. I may make a LA version soon since I miss California!

List of favorite dishes I’ve yet to find quality versions of in Seattle:

Chocolate Souffle Po Mo Gyudon Takoyaki Army Stew or honestly any Korean stew - I ask Esther to cook me those Potstickers - I ask Larry to cook me those lmao Wontons - I’d ask Michelle to cook me - you get the point hahaha Bun Bo Hue Chow Fun or honestly dim sum in general Pasta in general Pumpkin Tempura

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autisticandroids · 4 years

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2, 6, 12, 14, 27, 47.... foods questions

2. Grilled cheese or PB&J?

pbj, always. i like grilled cheese, sometimes. there are some truly delectable grilled cheese sandwiches out there. and it’s hard to beat a grilled cheese with your tomato soup on a cold night.

but peanut butter is the forbidden fruit.

my mother is allergic to a great many things. this has influenced my taste in two ways. some of the foods she can’t eat, i have developed a serious distaste for. shellfish, salmon, most preparations of eggplant, etc. even some things which she dislikes because even though she’s not allergic to, it seems that she ought to be, like coconut, i hate.

but sometimes it went the opposite way. some of these forbidden foods - tamarind, pumpkin seeds, sesame, cherries - i covet. peanut butter is in this second category.

though i must say, i don’t usually go for jam on my peanut butter sandwiches. i tend to go elvis style, banana slices and honey. occasionally i will treat myself to a fluffernutter, a monstrosity which, if you have never lived in new england, i gleefully invite you to google.

6. Top three cuisines?

okay. i’m officially declaring that this will be americanized versions only. i’ve traveled a lot, over the course of my life, and i’ve always eaten like a king, even in countries whose national cuisine is universally reviled. but i feel like it’s unfair to compare that way, you know? so this is gonna be just for stuff i eat in america, or make at home.

- italian food, but only the way they do it in new haven, connecticut, and surrounding areas.

- chinese food because if you told me right now if i could never eat another bao i’d die on the spot, actually. this is also cheating a little because some of the chinese food i cook myself is a lot more like chinese-chinese food than americanized chinese food, since i’ve actually been to china and stuff, but even if i were to never cook my own chinese food again and only ate at american chinese restaurants it would still be on here.

- third is hard. third is hard. thai food? polish food? indian food? vietnamese food? it’s hard. i think i’m going to have to go with japanese food. i would be a hypocrite if i didn’t, because i just spent two hours making a passable imitation of takoyaki, with vegetarian fish chunks.

i feel kind of odd about this, because i’ve always had the sense that americanized japanese food is even further from japanese-japanese food than most americanized cuisines, because it’s so limited in scope. like, american japanese food is pretty limited to either sushi, or trendy street food/ramen places.

i always had the impression that, for example, while american chinese food is very americanized, and really only reflects the cuisine of guangdong, it might at least have something to do with what immigrants from guangdong were eating at home during the early waves of chinese immigration. i have similar impressions with other immigrant cuisines. but i do not have this impression with american japanese food, since it was really limited to sushi and whatever side dishes sushi places sold, and the expansion of things like ramen shops and street food in the last few years seem to be driven less by immigration and more by a rising trend of mainstream western culinary orientalism and weeabooism. so i feel like it’s probably incorrect to claim japanese food is one of my favorite cuisines since the american version of it is so limited.

also, just realized that i would die for a good banh mi right now so i’m changing my answer, vietnamese food.

12. What do you get on your bagels? What WOULD you get if you had access to anything you wanted?

you can’t go wrong with a good egg and cheese. i nearly always get an egg and cheese. they’re unbeatable.

sometimes, in a certain mood, i will get strawberry cream cheese instead. sometimes, in a very certain mood, i might get just plain cream cheese, but that’s unusual.

it really does not matter what you get on a bagel. what makes or breaks a bagel sandwich is not the filling, but the bagel itself. a good bagel could make sawdust and coffee grounds delicious, and no filling on earth can save a bad bagel.

there are, of course, mediocre bagels in the world, but those are best treated with the same respect as ordinary sandwich bread, and filled accordingly.

14. Favorite mug you own

i don’t own a ton of mugs, but since, i’m home with my parents right now, and they have a whole collection, i’ll give me favorite of theirs, which is my mom’s spock mug.

what makes this mug special is that it’s as big in terms of volume as a cappuccino mug without actually being one. instead of being as wide or wider than it is tall like a cappuccino mug, it has the same proportions as a normal mug, just scaled up. this makes it easier to hold, and easier to drink from, while still being fucking huge. plus, the wide mouths of cappuccino mugs when compared to their height mean that anything held in them goes cold in five seconds flat, while this mug has the upright shape of a traditional mug and so holds heat longer.

also, this mug has spock on it.

27. What section do you immediately head for when you walk into a bookstore?

i’m not a huge bookstore person? i’m very hesitant about acquiring new material possession which have a finite term of usefulness, even moreso if i have to actually pay for them, and i am well aware that i will read most books only once, and some not at all. for actual reading material, i tend to prefer libraries or ebooks, to keep from adding more unmanageable clutter to my disastrous living space. libraries especially, since they’re free, and also i have a deadline to either read the damn book or give up on it.

in libraries, i tend to head for either the y.a. or adult genre fiction sections, since that’s what i go for, though usually when i come into a library i already have a book in mind. i also tend to head to audiobooks. i love audiobooks, they’re wonderful, i’ve gotten through so many books that way.

however, when i do go to bookstores, i don’t go to the stuff i would normally actually read. in more chain-y, new-book bookstores, i tend to go to the novelty books, the kind of stuff libraries don’t have. coffee table books with pictures of cats, comic collections, joke books. and i tend to check out the displays, see what’s up.

i’m also way more likely to go to the nonfiction sections of these kinds of bookstores than used bookstores or libraries, for two reasons. first, because i tend to think nonfiction makes for good gifts. if you give someone a book it comes with strings attached, no matter what, but those strings are different for different kinds of books. a novel comes with an obligation to read it cover to cover, and not just read it, but enjoy it, or at least come up with an interesting opinion on its contents. a nonfiction book does not have to be enjoyable, merely informative, and it’s a lot easier to be informed by a book than to like one. plus, most of the time you don’t actually need to read the whole thing, because although they do tend to have overall arcs and maybe overarching arguments, a lot of nonfiction books can be informative even if consumed in small chunks. second, because in chain-y, new book bookstores, the nonfiction section tends to be glutted with the sort of fun, digestible pop-nonfiction that i tend to read if i must go for nonfiction, while libraries and used bookstores run more towards the drier, probably more informative but less enjoyable sort.

in used bookstores, i tend towards a different pattern. what i look for in used bookstores is stuff that’s interesting because it’s old. cookbooks, art books, fifty cent science fiction novels. i especially like very old history and social science books; near my college there was a used bookstore that had an entire shelf of psychoanalysis books, and another of histories of like, medieval european art and design, all written in like the forties. the kind of stuff that’s out of print so wouldn’t be in a new bookstore, but is probably outdated, inaccurate, useless, and unpopular, so it isn’t in too many libraries either.

47. How do you top your ice cream?

i’m not a huge ice cream person? like, ice cream gives me a stomach ache pretty much uhhhh always. if i’m having it in my house, scooped into a bowl, i don’t generally top it with anything, ditto with stuff i get from an ice cream shop, but the most common way i eat ice cream is actually in like, bar form? like you know those dove bars, like a bar of vanilla ice cream dipped in chocolate. does that count?

i definitely like stuff mixed into my ice cream, i’m a fiend for cookie dough and brownie chunks. maybe my favorite ice cream flavor ever came from a local ice cream shop which has tragically since shut down. it was called kettle crunch and it had chocolate covered potato chips mixed in.

i guess i always get toppings at like, those trendy froyo places that go by weight and have a buffet of toppings? but honestly, when i go to those places, i rarely get any actual froyo. usually i just fill my bowl with popping boba because they always have it and i love it. i get some fruit too, and sometimes i get some of the candy, like a few gummy worms or a kit kat. but the popping boba is the star of the show.

ok now i’ve gotten distracted researching buying popping boba online. apparently it’s not hard, but it seems like a lot of the time it comes in seven pound bucket. like i could get a small amount of the common flavors, but i have just now right now discovered that there is such a thing as chocolate popping boba and i’m losing it because it only comes in seven pound buckets but i need it.

also, chilli pepper popping boba, which has the same problem, but also holy fuck.

#food //#asks #jazzypizzaz

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jerahanndikit-blog · 4 years

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LAVENDER PRINCESS CRUISE SHIP

From the moment you step aboard, we want you to feel welcomed and right at home. And with attentive service from a friendly staff that knows what hospitality means, you’ll find your Lavender Princess ship truly is your home away from home.

THE DESTINATION OF LAVENDER PRINCESS CRUISE SHIP

Best Places to Visit in Asia

From mega-metropolises to remote islands, Asia's top travel spots offer a healthy dose of adventure, ancient history and culture. After considering local prices, accessibility and the variety of attractions in each destination, along with traveler feedback, U.S. News ranked the best places to visit in Asia. Contribute to next year's list by casting your vote below.

MALDIVES

This far-flung destination, located miles from civilization in the Indian Ocean, is made up of about 1,200 islands that provide an atmosphere that's pretty much paradise. The islands of the Maldives feature lush tropical landscapes, unparalleled white sand beaches, crystal-clear ocean waters and coral reefs that prompt extensive exploration. The best way to experience this slice of paradise? In one of its many over water bungalows, of course.

The magnificent archipelago of the Maldives is not only home to a myriad of magical tropical islands fringed by white sandy beaches, swaying tropical palms and surrounded by gin-clear waters teeming with marine life – it also offers some of the most delicious cuisine in the region. Traditional Maldivian cuisine, also known as Dhivehi cuisine, provides a wonderful variety of tastes and flavors, ranging from crunchy snacks and street foods accompanied by wood-fired chapati bread to complex and deliciously spicy curries.

DISH IN MALDIVES

CURRIES

Curries are one of the most popular dishes in Maldivian cuisine and vary from fish and chicken curries to vegetable curries, rich with spices and exotic flavors. Top of the curry dishes is Mas Riha, which is made with diced fresh tuna, coconut, peppers, and plenty of fresh chilies, while a chicken curry known as Kukulhu Riha is also a favorite filled with a different mixture of spices. Vegetable curries are also on the menu and include delicious non-meat ingredients such as eggplant (bashi), pumpkin (barabō), tora, chichanda, and muranga, as well as unripe green banana, coconut milk and a curry paste blended with onions, herbs, spices and chili peppers. Curries are usually eaten with steamed rice or with roshi or chapati (unleavened flatbread).

There are a plethora of reasons to visit Thailand. Stunning natural sceneries, glorious golden beaches, legendary parties beneath the full moon, and of course, Thai cuisines are some of the alluring attractions that make tourists travel from far and wide to visit Thailand. The delicacy of Thai dishes results in a blend of freshness and fragrance, and irrespective of your reasons for visiting, an indulgence in the traditional foods in Thailand is something you must never resist. Thai cuisine has a reputation all over the world for being the most delicious and flavorful meal that you will ever have. Though the variety is immense, here is a look at some of the top 12 traditional foods you must never leave Thailand without tasting.

DISH IN BANGKOK

TOM YUM GOONG - SPICY SOUP

Tom Yum is a spicy Thai Soup with shrimp, and it is one of the most famous traditional foods in the country. It is typically made with mushroom, tomatoes, garlic, fish sauce, cilantro, onions, galangal, kaffir lime leaves, and lemongrass together with a lot of lime juice. Due to the composition of the ingredients, it is sour and spicy, but lovely to the taste buds. In a traditional setup, the soup may feature meats such as fish, beef, pork or chicken, and it is generally served in a large clay bowl or an aluminum pot with a charcoal burner.

KYOTO

History lovers will revel in the sites of Kyoto. The city, which used to be Japan's capital during imperial times, is awash with ancient religious sites, including the Fushimi Inari Shrine, which dates back to the eighth century. In addition to shrines and temples, be sure to pencil in time to stroll the famous Philosopher's Walk, preferably during cherry blossom season, and treat yourself to kaiseki, which are multicourse meals native to Kyoto.

DISH IN KYOTO

HAMO (CONGER EEL)

The spikey-toothed hamo (conger eel) is not an easy character to deal with. Small bones run along the length of its slender body. To make it edible, chefs place half-cuts into the filleted flesh – 24 cuts within each three-centimeter span. Hamo can be boiled or grilled, deep fried, even served as shabu-shabu or in a nabe stew. Cold, boiled hamo served with a tart _ume _(plum) sauce is particularly popular in summer The eel’s nature is as fierce as its teeth and hamo have been known to bite the finger of an unwary chef even after it has had its throat cut. It is this strong life force that has made hamo a part of Kyoto’s culture – it was strong enough to last the long, slow journey to the land-locked city back in its heyday.

#brokensplendor-blog

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weaselle · 5 years

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Everything Is True (from the beginning this time)

Chapter 1

Claude was jogging were he shouldn’t have been at that time of night, that was the problem. Wearing a bright yellow and green plaid windbreaker, he was running along John F. Kennedy Drive in the middle of Golden Gate Park, and decided to turn up Chain of Lakes Drive East, toward Fulsome. A couple dozen meters under the trees, he stopped and stepped off the path to take a short breather and look out over the south end of North Lake. Perhaps he would have felt something if he was less removed from his ape ancestry- some lifting of hairs, some tingle of warning. If only his senses were not dulled by centuries of escape from nature, he might have smelled the blood in the air, heard a rustle out of time with the wind, seen the dark shape in the trees above him. Alas, a human being in a familiar environment almost never looks up.

---------------------------------

“Go on fifteen!”

“Thank you!” Twenty-seven-year-old Helix dumped her gnocchi for twelve, cranked the heat on a pan full of Alfredo sauce and dunked the penne in one of the strainers back in the boil. Then she picked the pot of rigatoni back up, finished stirring in the ladleful of Bolognese, plated, put it in the pass next to a steaming lasagna, and called “Out on twenty-one!”

The little printer in the small kitchen of the hotel bistro chattered and hummed, and she snagged the ticket on her way to grab a fresh sautee pan. Table nine, four top, no apps, she winced. No appetizers meant no grace period; she was going to have to move quickly if she was going to get the food for nine started before she had to finish fifteen, especially since she had not managed to get the veggies for the penne down while she was putting out table twenty-one, but at least 2 eggplant parms and two spaghetti marinaras were fast and easy. She slammed her sautee pan down, splashed some olive oil in, and cranked the fire all the way. She dipped almost a tablespoon of diced garlic into it, wiping her fingers on her apron after. She turned the fire down on the alfredo, tossed in some parm for thickening and flavor, gave it a stir and turned the heat to medium low. Then, moving at top speed, she scooped the floating gnocchi out of the small boil into a hanging strainer, grabbed two lasagna dishes, laid a scoop of marinara into each with a breaded slice of eggplant from the fridge unit under the counter, by which time the garlic in the pan behind her was starting to sizzle slightly, so she dropped the other two slices of eggplant on the board. She knocked the small fridge’s door closed with her hip as she turned back to the stove, reaching her left foot back without looking to tap it shut when it bounced open an inch.

Meanwhile, her hands were busy. They darted here and there like a kestrel mating dance, put the fire under the sizzling pan to medium, gave it a flip so the bottom of the garlic wouldn’t burn, upended the steaming strainer of gnocchi into the alfredo sauce, gave it a couple quick flips to fold it in, pulled the penne out of the boil and let it hang in the stainer, pulled the sizzling garlic off the fire before it could burn, and reached over for a big handful of mixed veggies. She popped them into the garlic pan, flipped it to coat them in the oil and garlic, and moved it back onto the fire, which was too high, but she needed it fast. Spinning in place, she lifted a handful of grated mozzarella and split it into her eggplant parmesan dishes, covered the cheese with the two eggplant slices she’d left on the counter, scooped more marinara over that, tossed a bit of parmesan on top of it all, and hooked the oven door open with her foot. The two lasagnas for eleven were almost done. Once the eggplant parms were in, she glanced at the clock (they would need 9 minutes) and hit the veggies with some white wine, a little too early for deglazing and flavor, but she lidded the pan so they would steam fast enough for her to not lose the gnocchi. Briefly her mind emptied, and she suffered a full two seconds of frozen panic. Spaghettis! She jogged two steps to the reach in, killing the fire under the gnocchi alfredo as she passed, pulled two portions of spaghetti, dumped them in the boil, laid hands on a sauce pan, and scooped in four and a half ladles of the spaghetti sauce she’d prepped the day before- on the heat it went. She lifted the lid up off the veggies to it’s home above the stove. In went the penne and a scoop of marinara, flip. She checked the gnocchi, it was holding fine. She separated the spaghetti in the boil just as it started to stick, killed the fire on the penne primavera. Tossed a teaspoon of butter in the spaghetti sauce, gave it a stir.

The printer was chattering at her, two tickets, but it would have to wait a minute. She dashed to the oven and pulled the two lasagnas for eleven out, placing them under the broiler to finish. Snatching three bowls down and glancing at the clock, she turned back to the penne, and plated quickly. Clank! went the empty pan into the bus tub at her feet as she swiveled; the gnocchi was starting to skin, too thick. She needed to revive it before the penne primavera died. She twisted the heat on full, added about an ounce and a half of cream, and reached for a spatula to stir it. She left it on the heat just long enough to garnish the primavera with basil leaves, then plated the gnocchi into the two empty bowls. She reached back with a glance over her shoulder to turn the heat under the spaghetti sauce down to medium, then pulled two liners down for eleven’s lasagnas, which she could tell by the sizzle were almost done. Garnished the gnocchi alfredos with a little parm and some oregano, grabbed the penne primavera, and set all three dishes in the pass

“Out on fifteen!”

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Jinx was having a wonderful time, running through the hotel from seven Suits on a mission to kill or capture him- it wasn’t boring, and that was a fact.

Just a few minutes earlier, he had awakened, had a rum and smoke, and done a big stretch. Then he noticed his watch, which told the actual time. This was problematic. He looked at it very closely, and it did SEEM off, but all the particulars were correct: faded leather, same scratches as always, slightly dulled metal, light patina on the clear face cover. Jinx was aware of how important ‘seems’ could be, and remained suspicious. He smelled it carefully. Aha! that was a smell of a different color, alright. Just then, there was a small rattle from the door. Jinx, pissed about his watch and naked as the day he was born, threw it open, and yanked one of the two black-suited men standing outside into his room, slammed the door and flipped the bolt, leaving the other man standing in the hall with an electric lock-pick and a confused expression.

“WHAT have you DONE with my WATCH!?”

The man inside the room shook his head, confronted with a shouting naked man covered in tattoos that seemed somehow to be moving slowly across his skin. “Um,” he said distractedly, “you’re.. holding it?” The door thumped loudly.

“Bullshit!” yelled Jinx, “Why does it say 11:25 p.m., hunh? WHY THAT!?”

“Uh, because.. that’s what time it is?” the writhing tattoos were really unsettling.

“EXACTLY! MY watch, my VERY IMPORTANT WATCH, is quite specifically very carefully with definite purpose set to NEVER, EVER- give me that!” Jinx snatched the pistol out of the startled man’s right hand as the door behind him banged and rattled “-tell the correct time EVER! Which means that the WATCH I am HOLDING” he continued, looking at the gun in irritation and tossing it over his shoulder “is NOT my WATCH, but some OTHER- no phone calls!” Jinx grabbed the small black device out of the still disoriented man’s left hand “-some OTHER watch and- WHY IS THIS NOT A PHONE!?” he screamed “This is a, like, a GPS tracker with...” Jinx stopped mid tirade, and looked at the watch in his hand. Then, looking back at the device, he calmly threw the watch out the window, staring intently at the little screen while the watch fell away from them. “Oh. Oh. Also, that was a gun you were holding before, wasn’t it.”

The door flew open with a loud splintering noise and the Suit from the hallway burst in aiming a pistol in all directions before pointing it at Jinx, who began pacing. “Freeze!”

“No,” said Jinx, continuing to pace.

The two Suits looked at each other, and the first one shrugged helplessly, and began edging toward his own discarded weapon. The second Suit turned back to the pacing Jinx. “This is a 357 magnum. If I were -“

“So?” Jinx interrupted, smiling widely. His canine teeth seemed just a little too long and sharp.

“-..’so’ what?” said Suit number two.

“That’s what I’m saying” Jinx agreed.

“What... are you saying?”

“‘So what’.”

“Wait, you’re saying ’so what’?”

“Yes; why, are you slow witted?”

“I’m not slow, you idiot, I’m armed and-“

“Yeah, but so what?”

“What do you mean, ‘so what’? I could kill you with-“

“No you couldn’t”

“YES, I COULD, stop interrup-“

“Why should I?”

“Stop it! Why should you WHAT?”

“Gods, you ARE slow; why should I stop interrupting you?”

“BECAUSE I HAVE A GUN POINTED AT YOU, you complete-“

“We’ve been OVER that, but you haven’t answered me”

“Stop INTERRUPTING ME! Answered what?”

“No, ‘so what’- it’s very different”

“WHAT’s different?”

“Yes”

“Wait, what?”

“I SAID yes”

“Okay, you said yes. So what?”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly... wh. whaat?” Suit Two wasn’t sure when it had become a conversation or where he’d lost track of it, but he was confused and angry. The first Suit managed to get his gun back in hand, and rejoined the party.

“That’s enough.” said Suit One, pointing his recovered weapon at Jinx ,who stopped pacing and licked one fang thoughtfully.

“Who did you guys say you were again?”

The second Suit tried out his best evil grin, and said “That’s classified”

Jinx grinned too, the kind of grin that would make even the toughest hyena hand over its lunch. “Oh, so THAT’s who you are; the ensemble does kind of give it away- you guys should maybe rethink your wardrobe.”

“Look,” said the first Suit, “all you need to know is, YOU are the Hunted, and WE, well, we are the Hunters.”

The naked tattooed man in front of them laughed silently and then seemed to crouch slightly without moving at all.

“Wrong.”

-------------------------------------------------

Helix was struggling to keep her rhythm. The little galley kitchen could accommodate two people, but they only scheduled one cook on Sunday nights. Usually, Helix preferred working alone. When she got slammed though, it was a mad, mad symphony she had to conduct. She had a rail full of tickets, a stove full of pans, a flat top full of food, and an oven full of meals, and the printer would not. Shut. Up. She swore the little thing actually sounded as if it was saying “check-a-ticket, check-a-ticket, uummm, check-a-ticket” every time it printed.

Some nights she had nightmares about that sound. Thank gods it was almost nine, the rush had to be almost over. She just needed one last strong push and then she could spend an hour or two doing the nightly deep cleaning of the kitchen. It was amazing how a single night in a restaurant kitchen could result in the same kind of mess you’d expect out of a month of not cleaning the kitchen at home. Check-a-ticket, check-a-ticket, uummm, check-a-ticket; great another order in.

She threw seven dishes at the pass, yelling “Out on three! Up on fourteen! Out on nine, please!” pulling the three tickets and matching them to the dishes. Then she pirouetted, tossing empty strainers, used spatulas, and dirty pans into bus tubs, sinks, and corners. A quick sweep of her arm wiped her board clean of odds and ends into the compost before she moved to the printer and lifted a streamer of tickets like a magician’s handkerchief, scanning the contents and cursing under her breath. Shifting her existing tickets as far down the rail as they would go to accommodate the newcomers, she was careful to leave the break between the eight tickets she was currently working and the four she hadn’t even started yet, just as she was careful to glance at each of the seven new tickets as she slid it into the rail. It was best to be sure as early as possible that there were no surprises, such as an order for the stuffed portobellos (she’d told everyone they were out of them at the pre-shift meeting, but of course she’d had orders for them twice) or an unusually large table... or a singled-out done steak with no apps, which was the ticket she found now.

Singled out done steak with no apps. Great. That meant some person dining alone had ordered a steak well-done, which needed twelve minutes on the grill, and on a busy night like tonight could be fifteen or twenty minutes before it even got started if she left in sequence. That was a sort of okay time for a table with salads leading a couple sautees (Helix could put out a sautee in five to seven minutes when she was in the zone) but would push the well-done steak into a 35 minute wait, plus however many minutes the server had spent rushing around delivering hot food and making drinks before they had managed to put the order in. Alone and no appetizers was the nail in the lid, as it meant that the person with the well done steak would spend the entire wait by themselves with an empty table and nothing to do but fume, glaring at their server and taping their foot. Finished filling the rail with the new tickets, Helix turned and took a calm look at the chaotic kitchen; the bread for sixteen’s meatball sandwich was burning, but bread was fast and easy, and it was past saving anyway, so she opted to let it burn for a second while she conducted her much needed survey.

The boil pot full of strainers containing pasta took up only one burner on the range. The other five spots all had sautees going at various stages of readiness, and she had three prepped pans off to the side, olive oil and garlic already in them. She had three egg parms and six lasagnas in the oven, set to come out in their various groupings at 9:59, 10:01, 10:03, and 10:06, plus a couple each in the broiler that were almost done browning. Some of them had to be ready at the same time as some of the sautees, some were matched to hot sandwiches on the flat-top, one to the club half-done on her board. Some of the sandwiches were going with sautees, some were paired. One sautee was by itself and completed, but waiting for the slow diner at the bar to finish the soup she had sent him 10 minutes ago. She had to keep track of a hundred, a thousand, a million particulars. A host, a myriad, a multitude of things could go wrong with the food while she threw herself around this cluttered little room full of knives, fire, hot oil, and boiling water. Right next to the open flame of the front left burner sat a small blowtorch, for creme brulee. Haphazard stacks of thick metal boil pots and large sauce pans slouched heavily on their shelf above her head. Oil and water insisted on maintaining separate kinds of slippery on the floor. She spared no thought for any of it.

check-a-ticket, check-a-ticket-

In thirty seconds she would need to deglaze a primavera, in forty seconds, she needed to flip the corned beef and lay a slice of swiss cheese on it. Before that happened she would have to find room for the single/done steak, and right after the cheese went down for the ruben, she’d have to pop the bread on to toast. She had to remember that the primavera for ten needed to be no bell pepper, and to get some more parsely chopped for garnish by the time the spaghetti for thirteen was ready to plate, and she would need to complete steps for the four other sautees in between all that. She had to remember which tables were out on apps, and which weren’t, keep an eye on the clock for the things in the oven, and she couldn’t forget the broiler or she’d have to start two 9 minute egg parms and two 12 minute lasagnes completely over.

-uummmmm, check-a-ticket

She needed to run to the back and grab another couple bottles of wine, she needed to refill her mozzarella from the lowboy, she needed to get whoever was least busy to get her another bin of mixed veggies from downstairs. A dozen other adjustments and procedures screamed and clamored. The alfredo for ten wasn’t thickening right and needed attention. If she mis-timed anything, something would burn, needing to be re-done, or would not be ready in time to serve with the rest of the table. Any of this, anything, a mere question about a dish she wasn’t focused on, could tangle the insane dual mental and physical dance she was attempting. Helix clamped down on the tired, familiar panic just in time for her boss to run over and say “I need a medium cheese burger sub swiss no tomato, and a primavera no carrots extra parm on the fly for table two, the order never got put in and they’ve been waiting twenty-five minutes already. Oh! Hold on sixteen, the salads came back and I’m resending them. And how long on table ten? They complained to their server already.”

check-a-ticket check-a-ticket, uummm, check-a-ticket

-------------------------------------------------------------

Claude was not having a very good night. He had been having a good night, a lovely, temperate evening. He had looked at the lake under the night sky while he caught his breath, and then made his way back to the jogging trail, loving every minute, right up until the alien had stepped out of the trees onto the edge of the path. At first, Claude was amazed by what he was sure was a fantastic costume: short, slender, covered in gadgets, almond eye’d - classic. He’d straightened his stylish plaid windbreaker and almost walked right up to it; surely a prank or costume party was the explanation, after all, nobody just saw an alien walking through the park, that was nonsense. However, when the little being had turned and seen him with what turned out to be quite creepy eyes, his disbelief suspended itself in a hurry. Those were real eyes. It was a real alien, handling a device in a manner that said real weapon, coming toward him in a familiar way that bypassed the meat-eater in Claude and went straight to the part of the brain that has been hunted and eaten since mammals first hid from the last of the dinosaurs. Cold fear debated tactics with hot panic and lost: Claude unfroze and fled.

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Jinx, having gotten dressed, ran his thumb and forefinger down the creases in the brim on either side of his hat and straightened the middle feather before putting it on. Then he tipped it slightly to the moaning tangle of suit in the corner. He adjusted his satchel, checked the clasp on his pouch, and stepped through the wreckage of the room’s entrance just in time to see a pair of dinging doors slide open on an elevator of Suits.

He sprinted backwards, counting heads, then dashed down the hallway to his right, knowing they would almost certainly split up. The six story floor plan was a squared figure-eight of hallways, with stairwells in each corner. There was a pair of elevators at either end of the central hallway that ran from east to west. Jinx’s fourth floor door opened (or used to open) into the central east-to-west hallway. The Suits ( he counted five) had ridden up in the the East elevator, Jinx was now running South in the hallway on the West side. The question was, were those five (plus the two he’d downed already) the only Suits here?

As he ran, he unwound a length of organic polymer thread, like lab-made spider web, from a spool at his belt. He hit the southwest corner and darted through the stairwell door. Five steps down he tied his silken strand across the stairs at shin hight, then stepped to the top of the railing and leaped up to grab the rail above him, chinned up to repeat the action, then pulled himself over that rail and onto the fifth floor landing. He carefully peeked out the stairwell door, and saw no one. If there was another Suit up here, he was probably stationed in the middle, where he could see both sets of elevators. Jinx ran swiftly and silently East until the hallway right-angled North, then cat-footed it to the central junction. He bent low against the left wall and peered around the corner. All clear. He pressed the call buttons on both east-side elevators, then ran west down the center hallway to hit the buttons on the other two. From the west end of the center hall he had a clear view of the East-side elevators as they opened, and, since they were both empty he sprinted back to send one up and one down, roof and lobby. Checked the west-side elevators as they opened, empty, and sprinted back to send them both down, one to floor two, one to floor three. As he ran to the northeast stairwell, he contemplated the lack of Suited playmates on this and, presumably, other floors. Must be just the seven Suits, all told, unless they had one on the roof or in the lobby. Or both. Jinx smiled fiercely; maybe it would be both.

By now, since he knew both sets of elevators were empty and in motion, he could assume some of them must have decided to take the stairs to other levels. Checking carefully at the stairwell doorway he smelled no one and heard nothing, so he slid down the handrails to the third floor. When he came out into the third floor hallway at full speed, he discovered that he was running straight toward Suit number 3.

Jinx flung his hand out as if tossing a frisbee, and fell into a roll. The black-suited man kept his momentum as he crossed his arms in front of his face and brought his knees to his chest, protecting himself from the possibility of projectiles, and sailing right over a tumbling ball of Jinx, who managed to get a leg up in time to foul the Suit’s landing. Spinning to his feet facing the way he’d come, Jinx leapt into the air, landing hard on the prone man’s spine, and let the double stomp propel him back the way he had been running. As he passed, he bent low to sweep up his hat. Assuming they were smart enough to station someone in the lobby, that was three out of eight Suits down. He was going to go for all eight instead of outright escape. To make a full sweep of it, he’d have to check the roof, too. First, however, the feint. He met the elevator that he’d sent to the third floor and took it to the lobby.

The elevator did stop to open at the second floor, revealing a pair of bored tourists, but Jinx snarled at them, and they suddenly seemed to remember something in their rooms. Touching down at ground level, Jinx smelled Suit 4 before the doors were open more than an inch, stepped to the far left, and led his exit with a spinning back fist. His maneuver caught the Suit by surprise, and Jinx followed through by banging the man’s head into the corner of the elevator doorway, then heaved him away. There was a bathroom door that direction, and Jinx sprinted past the groaning suit heap and through it.

He saw a row of urinals and stalls against one wall, and a line of sinks below a mirror against the wall opposite. Past these, there was another door, into the lobby check in area. When Jinx came out of the bathroom, he saw Suit 5 between himself and the east elevators, across the lobby. When the suit saw Jinx, he ran for the bathroom, which Jinx fled back into. Waiting just inside and behind the door, he braced his back against the wall and cocked a leg. When the suit tried to barrel into the bathroom, Jinx let the door swing in about twenty inches and then slammed it into the suits face with his foot. The crunch and accompanying yelp was very satisfying.

Neither of the suits were out of the fight yet, to Jinx’s estimation, so he dashed back through the bathroom, ripping soap dispensers off the wall and grabbing two full pouches of hand soap. Back at the other door, he popped out where Suit 4 leaned against the wall, shaking off a mild concussion. To give him something to think about, Jinx dodged a foggy haymaker and head-butted him, lightly though; he wanted the man pissed and disoriented, not unable to fight. Then he was back in the bathroom, where he bit the corners of the plastic bags of soap he held, and flung the slippery contents all over the tile floor.

Jinx killed the lights as he reached back into the corridor for Suit 4. Giving one of his best war-cries, he yanked his makeshift stunt double spinning toward the middle of the super-slick floor just as the door across from them banged open and Suit 5 charged into the pitch black bathroom. Jinx jogged away from the suddenly very busy room, tongue lolling in amusement, and took the northwest stairs back up.

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Helix looked at the clock and wiped her face in the crook of her arm. She’d made it through the rush, and had started the nightly ritual of cleaning as much as she could without overly compromising her ability to cook more food for late diners. She couldn’t wait until they were closed to start the clean up of course, it had to be started while the restaurant was still open, or it would take two or three hours and her boss would be pissed... not to mention the sleep she would lose out on. It was 10:15, fifteen minutes ’til close, and she had a very good start on the deep cleaning she had to do every night. There had been no orders for the last twenty five minutes, so she had managed to do her station change over, pull her floor matts and sweet, and do a general teardown, clearing the kitchen of all dirty dishes and putting away items unlikely to be needed again tonight. Now, she eyed the clock and debated weather or not to clean the large flat-top grill.

It had to be done every night, and it was a grueling, hot, twenty minute job. Starting it at 10:15 would see her about a third of the way done with her kitchen cleaning when the doors locked; she might even get out by 11:30 pm. The flat-top was a 350 degree slab of metal covered in blackened, baked-on oil that had to be scraped and scrubbed until the entire surface was gleaming silver. It was best to use fresh oil to clean it, because water would send clouds of burning steam straight at her as she leaned over it. It had to be done hot, or the carbonized results of a hundred orders would never come off; as it was, she had to scrub so hard she always broke a sweat, which, if it dripped, would sizzle and pop, spitting searing oil into her face. If she waited to do it, she’d go home later. If she started cleaning it and somebody came in and ordered, say, a ruben, she was fucked. She could cook it in a couple of sautee pans on the range, but it would take longer to cook that way, and wouldn’t be as good, and would create unnecessary dishes for her dishwasher, who was struggling to complete his own clean up. Meanwhile, any fresh oil left on the half-cleaned grill would cook back onto it, blackening and hardening and making her start all over, not to mention that for a reuben she’d have to get the sauerkraut back out of the bucket in the reach-in and replace the corned beef she she would have to use out of the set up she’d already put together for the morning shift. That was how a single ten-minute order near closing could keep her an extra half hour or more. She was exhausted. She wanted very much to go home by 11:30. She started the flat-top.

She was halfway through cleaning it when the ticket came in: three rubens and a gnocchi. She barely managed to not run into the dining room and start throwing knives at people.

-------------------------------------------------------

The roof had been a bad idea. Jinx had disposed of Suits 6, 7, and 8 on his way up and wasn’t really expecting any more of them. Suit 9 gave him pause, though. When he saw the man in the deep black suit and dark, dark sunglasses step out of the shadows he thought for the first time that night that he might be in a bit of trouble. This was no lackey, this was one of the Boss Suits. His soft, thick, three-piece suit was made of a material never seen by any civilian. His sunglasses housed unknown technologies. His face was the blank mask of a man who had never smiled or frowned, and he moved in a way that suggested he weighed far more than a man his size should. Dangerously, this Suit knew enough about his quarry to have come up here, instead of waiting in the lobby. Jinx took in all this at a glance, and immediately leapt off the top of the building.

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Claude was pretty sure things couldn’t get any worse. Running away from the alien along the shoreline of North Lake, wondering if aliens could swim, he was thinking that he might just make it, when he dodged around a tree and ran straight into what was most certainly a werewolf in the act of dropping down from the branches. Startled, the beast had in an instant sprung completely over Claude, so when he spun around and sprinted for the lake he pin-balled off it again, knocking the thing into the water. The creature thrashed and regained an uncertain footing, moonlit liquid cascading off it and then blooming into a glittering cloud as it shook itself, doglike. Unlike the first moments of his encounter with the alien, Claude had no doubts about the thing’s veracity - hands, feet, fur and snout were all too obviously parts of a living animal; he could see the glint of saliva on its teeth (oh god, look at its huge teeth!) and he’d smelled the foul breath of the thing when he’d inadvertently body checked the solid, warm mass of it’s very real, muscle-wrapped skeleton. Staring at it as it stumbled on the rocky lake bottom and fell over once more, his brain shut down around his last thought (which was, somehow, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”) and froze. Luckily, his nervous system, older and more experienced than his brain by millennia, had already seized direct control of his body and was propelling him away at high speed.

The fact that he was trying to escape both a werewolf and an alien simultaneously gave his panic a giddy flavor. The first line to Ain’t That a Kick in the Head was playing over and over in his quivering mind.

Ahead of him, he could see lights through the trees, where the park ended at Fulsome. There would be houses and businesses and people who, you never knew, might even have weapons of some kind.

Behind him, werewolf and alien both closed in.

“How lucky can one guy be?” sang Dean Martin in his head “How lucky can one guy be? How lucky can one guy be...”

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It was a couple minutes to midnight, and Helix was nearly done. She wadded up all but one of the cleaning rags she’d been using, tossed them into the towel bucket, and pulled the garbage bags out of the two bins from her area. “Hey, Bill,” she called over to the dishwasher while she was tying off the trash bags, “I’m taking my garbages out, you need anything taken to the dumpster?”

“Naw,” said Bill, “I gotta lotta stuff, and I’m not done puttin’ it together, thanks though”

“Yah,” acknowledged Helix, and went out the back of the kitchen just as Monday morning rode the witching hour’s first minute into town.

The back door opened onto the hotel parking lot. Helix took two steps toward the brick-wall-enclosed dumpsters when she heard a clattering from above her. She looked up in time to see a strange man, dressed in leather and canvass wearing a folded-brim hat with three feathers in it, coming down the fire escape like a stone through water. Above him, a dark-suited figure followed nearly as fast. Rather than lower the ladder from the bottom platform, the man in the hat vaulted the railing, landing in a crouch several yards away. In a flash the odd-looking fellow was up and next to Helix, snapping a (rather large) knife out from a sheath strapped to his leg. “Hi,” he said in a mild, friendly voice, “mind if I borrow this?” as he lifted the compost bag out of Helix’s suddenly nerveless hand.

The man in the hat slashed the bottom of the bag, and sent it skidding across the pavement back toward the area under the fire escape, trailing restaurant slime like some kind of giant speedy snail. The man in the suit and sunglasses jumped the fire escape rail and landed in the slippery mess, his feet shooting straight out in front of him and dumping him right on his ass; the man next to her laughed silently with his tongue out in a way that reminded her of a dog. As the other man was climbing to his feet, Helix became aware of a distant yelling, getting closer. The man in the sunglasses took a long barreled pistol out of his impossibly dark suit. Some guy in a yellow and green plaid windbreaker came running out of the park across Fulsome, yelling as he went. When he saw the gun, oddly, the guy ran straight to the man holding it, babbling about wolves and little green men.

At that moment, an honest to god alien sporting a jet pack dropped down into the little parking lot, while at the same time, some sort of I-shit-you-not-giant-wolf-ape leapt up out of nowhere into a crouch on top of the brick wall by the dumpster.

Everyone froze. There was a rapid reassessment of priorities by all parties. The man in the plaid windbreaker continued his stream of gibberish but now at a whisper. Helix tried to run away without attracting any notice and wound up not moving at all. The suited man’s attention was completely on the alien, the man with the knife tipped his hat respectfully to the wolf-thing.

Then the man in the suit, still seeming mesmerized by the alien, reached back without looking and shot the man in plaid. This left Helix alone in the parking lot with a murderer, a corpse, an alien, a werewolf, and (her only possible ally) the weirdo next to her: a man who had actually managed to bring a knife to a gunfight.

Mondays, she reflected, were reeeeally raising the bar on fucked up.

=======================================================

“I really haven’t got time to go into detail, but, the short version is: it’s all true. Everything.” So saying, the strange man leaned back in his seat and scoped out the other passengers on this, the first bus to anywhere they had found as they ran from the scene in the hotel parking lot. This guy, thought Helix, really fit in with the rest of the people on the late night bus, talking about multiple dimensions and strange creatures, just like any other crazy person Helix had encountered on public transit. But... she had just seen, like, a werewolf, so.

“Alright... vampires. They really exist?”

“Yep”

“And, government conspiracies?”

“Oh my me yes”

“And aliens?”

“Obviously”

“Elves? Dwarves? Wizards?”

“Positive, yes, absolutely”

“The Easter Bunny?”

Jinx sighed, “I mean, that was a one-off, really just a quick fix for a genetic anomaly that cropped up among a relatively small sub population one season about 12 thousand years ago, needed a carrier, didn’t work with birds or carnivores, not enough deer hunting going on at the time, wound up using rabbit to spread a counter-contagion that would pass to the offspring, though, I gotta tell ya, you were THIS close to having an easter dog, you know; amazing how that story has hung around.”

“I see.” She didn’t. “Cyborgs? Are they real?”

“Yes.”

“Sentient computers?”

“Don’t talk about those. Ever.”

“O...kay. Time travel?”

“Yes already, I told you, everything.”

“Santa?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Coke invented Santa in the 50’s. St. Nicholas was pretty nice and I did once hang out with the first Krumpus, if you know who that is”

“Yeah, he’s like, the christmas boogieman, right?”

“Hey! Nice to know some of those stories are making a comeback”

“And, these are all creatures from some other dimension?”

“Oh my me no. No, no, no. Well, a couple of them. Although, some of the others do move in and out of parallel dimensions. Less these days though. It got dangerous.”

“What about-“

“Look, I really don’t have time to keep going through this stuff, though the trip down memory lane has been as the first flowers of spring” Jinx stood up as the bus came to a stop.

“The first flowers of... ? Hey, can’t you just tell me what the heck is going on?”

“Sorry, kiddo, gotta go- and listen: don’t fuck around with those guys in the suits; really, stay the hell off their radar. Good luck!” and with that he was gone, off the bus, and out of her life. Until much later. _______________________________________________________________________

#fiction #writing #Everything is true #wip #book

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bites-kms · 5 years

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Kalimera! Something to eat?

Greek hospitality means food. It taste like kalamata olives, fresh, sweet figs and strong, delicious olive oil, not to forget the soft grapes that torn you between harvesting them for the next delicious sip of House White versus indulging yourself in them straight out from the vine.

There are certain musts you should try in Greece (if you haven’t done so in Turkey or in Georgia) like Tomatokeftedes or sun dried tomato croquettes, Greek Fava Dip, that delicious yellow split pea puree, feta cheese in one of their multiple, exquisite special preparations, meat filled zucchinis and tons, tons of wine to pair with all of it.

I gained almost 2 kilos in 2 weeks, - thank god I was prepared and I lost weight before traveling - but no regrets nor harm feelings: those were the best 2 kilos I gained in a while. All the beauty and history surrounding you deserve a proper celebration, and when it comes to commemorate something, Greeks know exactly how to do it. A little bit of cheese, some home made pies or veggie croquettes, you name it. And that is just for starters.

We took this hospitality really seriously, and as my friend Mau would say, we knew our “priorities”, so FOOD became a crucial part of our experience and tour. The heat also made it easier for us to stop every 2 hours for a soul refill- since when we ate, we were happy. Here’s the recap of our favorites places went in Athens:

Diongenes Lisikratous, Athina, 105 58

It was our first dinner and we were both starving: Mau from flying 10+ hours from the future and myself flying almost another 10 from the past. Luckily, this restaurant which we researched before and was recommended to us, was around our place. It was a gorgeous taverna. Exactly as you would imagine a mild night in Greece might be like. We ordered some zucchini, tomato croquettes and an octopus, which seemed to be more tasty than what they usually and actually were given our flight famine. But still, the place is worth giving it a shot since the ambience and the service is very, very good. Kayak Durrachiou 30 & Amvrakias Athina, 10443

It wasn’t a brilliant idea, to be honest, to have a kick-in-the-butt-awaken Ellinikos or Greek Coffee that night instead of a regular espresso. Same as in Turkish culture, their coffee is extremely strong, heavy and with the grounded bean in it so it has this dusty and dry taste. Strong. Killer. Not at all jet-lag helpful. Worth it, though? Absolutely! Everest various locations Bites&Kms Fav: Syndagma Square, Athina, 105 63

photo courtesy of polyarch.com We found this place by chance and, oh, odds are in our favor! Since that moment, each time we needed a refilled, we stoped by the closest Everest we could find in seek for an orange juice or a cappuccino. Cheap, delicious, great service. Tons of food and snack options to go along, even at this store on Syndagma Square, freshly made pizzas, sandwiches and croque monsieur were available! Klepsydra Tavern Klepsidras, Athina 105 56

Finding this secret gem was pure coincidence but once again, we ended up in the most wonderful corner in between Plaka and Anafiotika. There was only one table left, with a “reserved” sign on it, and as soon as we mentioned we were there for lunch, they remove it, reverse their glasses and brought the bread. It was meant to be. The view, the service and the food was all perfect. We ordered some of our favorites: spanikopita, tzaziki and greek salad. Spanikopita or otherwise known as Greek spinach pie is a traditional yet delicious recipe. With its versatility the dish matches with every time of the day. Feta cheese, butter, olive oil all are mixed and baked until golden crispy perfection.

Greek salad is a must have for Greeks with almost every meal. Choriatiki, as they called them in Greek, are made of tomatoes, olives, cucumber and a large piece of feta cheese and served undressed. Dressing is left at person’s choice hence all restaurants serve vinegar, salt, pepper and olive oil with the salad - although, in our experience, most of the times, it came already prepared. With the tradition of being a starter, Greek salad can also be a great side dish. Look at this beauty! We were definitely in food heaven!

Stamatopulos Tavern Lisiou 26, Athina 105 58

At night, we had a reservation on this place a Greek friend recommended. A little bit touristy yet fun, the only regret was that a couple came in after us and sat super close to our table, and started smoking non-stop, which became really annoying. Yet, there was nothing left to do, since it was an al fresco dinner place. Regardless, it was a lovely evening. They had live music with the traditional guitar and two guys with the typical voice you expect from the Greek coasts. The highlight of the night, aside from the great Moussaka, a lemon dressed lamb and some more croquettes, it was the time the musicians start playing the amazing Zorba Song! I couldn’t help myself and stood up, went to the front, and tried to learn that beautiful dance. After a while, right next to a two-left-legged old guy, I managed to do something, but the highlight of the night was when Mau joined and we killed the dance floor, throwing shame to all the other not-so-gifted people with our grace and moves! Coming back to the food, the moussaka is a legendary, traditional dish that is creamy and juicy. Moussaka is served in almost all tavernas in Greece. In the big family gathering this dish is prepared by Greek homemakers. In Moussaka, tomato sauce is used to cook minced beef which is subsequently layered with sweet eggplants and creamy béchamel sauce. This irresistible cuisine is filling so you don’t need too many side dishes. I was a little bit skeptical about moussaka at first since the ones I had before weren’t that good, but this one, OMG, completely changed my mind about them! Brettos Kidathineon 41, Athina 105 58

Brettos is Athens’ oldest bar and distillery, established by Michail Brettos in 1909. Most of the alcohol served there such as ouzo, mastiha, liqueurs and other beverages, are home made and they still respect the old recipe from Mr. Brettos. You can taste them are feel the fermentation happened in the old oak barrels placed inside. As soon as you step inside Brettos, you will be amazed by the wall adorned with colorful glass liqueur bottles and impressive original wooden barrels. Its unique décor is probably one of the reasons why Brettos is one of the most photographed locations in Athens, behind the Acropolis, Syntagma Square and other ancient monuments and sites in the city. We had two strong and delicious drinks: Aphrodite, which was ouzo gold, raspberry liquor, pink grapefruit soda and mint leaves and the one called Sea Breeze, made with Gin, fresh lime, fresh orange cubes and soda. Guess who got what ;)

Acropolis Museum Café Dionysiou Areopagitou 15, Athina, 117 42

When researching about the Acropolis, when to go, how to get tickets, etc, etc, the obvious question of “is the Acropolils museum worth a visit?” pops up. It is if you are super into history. Its greatly display showcases all the valuable stuff they removed from the Acropolis seeking for preservation. But, if you are like me and decide to go just for the real ruins per se avoiding an overflow of information, then the Acropolis and the other monuments spread out around Athens should do the trick. Although, there’s one thing not so many sites mention, and is that the Acropolis museum has a terrific terrace where to contemplate the Parthenon and a delicious seasonal menu to go with the view. We had some eggs, two delicious cappuccinos and the fantastic feta me meli - another Greek food dish that can be tasted as dessert or an entrée. Feta is wrapped in filo pastry before oven baked and honey is drizzled over it. The optimum balance between salty feta and sweet honey creates a mesmerizing taste. They served it with a tomato jam on the side instead of the honey and was absolutely delicious. Da Vinci Ice-cream various locations Bites&Kms Fav: 4 Selley Street, Athina, 10558

Play it safe, avoid a heat stroke: have an ice-cream! And if it’s a gelato, even better. The creative cone flavors at Da Vinci match the delicious and unique ones from the gelatos so be sure to pick wisely, or come again and again to try them all!

Thea Terrace Rooftop of Central Hotel Apollonos 23, Athina, 105 57

This was another fantastic, last minute Mau finding. It was so great, we ended up going twice. Close to Plaka but far enough from the crowd, this boutique hotel counts with a privilege terrace and rooftop bar from where we could see the sunset. It wasnt happy hour, but the drinks were so cheap and the prosecco was so good, we had two!

Nolan 33, Voulis 31, Athina 105 57

This place is definitely unique within the fusion restaurants I’ve been to. This is truly a delicious blend in between Greek, Asian and German cuisine, all the influences its owner has ingrained. As a Michelin recommendation, we left it aside pursuing Greek traditional tavernas, but it happens that after a while, you’re craving for something different like a burger or some pasta. What you don’t actually know is that what you need is a stop by Nolan. Once again, wondering in what we thought was a new, orthodox neighborhood, we ended up by its corner and its name rang a bell. We went in during a sunny Greek noon and we were lucky they were able to sit us regardless of not having a reservation. Minutes after, the restaurant got full, local artists started playing music on the streets and we were having a true fusion feast. We had some marinated tuna, a delicious octopus salad and some lamb dumplings. It was amazing, a must stop during your stayed in Athens.

Taf Coffee Shop Emmanouil Benaki 7, Athina 106 78

This is one of the top coffee places I’ve ever been to. Not because its price, look or location, but because of the love and passion they put on each brew. This is how they described their daily special - hence, the coffee of my choice: “Rosebud double shot cap creaming feeling, smooth body caramel chocolate and nutmeg aroma. Taste of cherry and caramel with apricot tangerine and almond nuts.”

Mind the Cup Emiliou Veaki 29, Peristeri 121 34

I took the train to Peristeri, just outside Athens, to check out what according to Buzzfeed “one of the coffee shops around the world you must check out before you die” Happily, it didnt disappoint. Not only the little town is super cozy, where I got a pair of amazing leather boots, but also, took the morning to write and to enjoy this wonderful plaza where Mind you Cup is located. It reminded me of old Montevideo, the city where I was raised when I was younger. I keep specifying this time and space issue since nowadays it’s quite different. It also reminded me of an out-side the tourist epicenter mini towns around the north of Spain or outside Porto, in Portugal. Even a “ciudad del interior” or countryside town from Uruguay. Even the tree to which shadow I was sitting and enjoying, was the same Willow tree I had at my school. It was a beautiful time travel adventure, on top of the delicious European house white wine, the home made pizza and the great service from the place. The menu looks like an old and corky newspaper and is not in English, which makes the adventure even more authentic, but the gentle waitress will assist you with all your questions. People were selling their crafts and some plants, and I couldn’t resist to get an envy eye anklet. On my way back, I found this delicious and traditional dessert Greek people have for Christmas, but I could have them every day with a glass of milk. They are called Kourabiedes, a shortbread-type biscuit usually made with ground almonds, flavored with either brandy, vanilla, mastika or rose water and they are shaped into little cute balls. In the end, they are sprinkled with icing sugar and they are just to die for!

Avli - Agiou Dimitriou Agiou Dimitriou 12, Athina 105 54

In the historic triangle of Athens there is a small tavern in a backyard called Avli which means ‘backyard’. This place is kinda secret: more and more people are accessing to its charms due to TripAdvisor’s fantastic reviews - although it still is easy to miss if you don’t go specifically looking for it. Within a small alley, behind a not so charming door, you can hear loud voices, laughs and some Greek music in the background. If you dare to go inside, disregarding your first thought of “oh, this is a private house, I shouldn't trespass it”, the scenery you will see is like it came from the ’60s. Checkered tablecloths, traditional chairs, old photos and a makeshift kitchen create an authentic feeling reminiscent of old Athens.

The always smiling owner, Takis, has operated this tavern since 1985. He pretended to know me, and after a nice “Kalimera, I remember you, please sit”, I sat down on one of the last free tables of the alley. I sat down right next to Stellios, this wonderful old man who greet me with yellow prunes, peanuts and come other spicy snack while we both waited to be served. He ordered some cheese and tomato, while I ordered the delicious feta with olive oil and some grilled peppers which were outstanding. I was so excited that I decided to copy Stellios and ordered a beer, the first Greek beer during by whole trip was waiting for me on my last day, and I ordered a Manos. It was good - that’s how far my beer knowledge and palate goes: good, not good :D To thank him for the company and the snacks, I invited him two more rounds of beer, which of course I’m not sure what happened since my Greek wasn’t that fluid so I made the best I could with Takis, so let’s hope at least some of the cash went for another Manos and the rest as tip! The whole experience was amazing, Stellios told me about his family, his lovely wife and two kids, as well as about his dog in very broken English. I showed a picture of my parents and told him I lived in New York, but that I was from Uruguay, land of football and meat. Yeap... some have Aristotles, others have Benedetti, and both of us share a Manos. Yamas, Athens!

#greece #athens #travel #food #foodie #love #passion #eat #europe

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