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finnsbubblegum · 2 years ago

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Me, Joel and Sarah (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: Pov: what it’s like living with Joel and baby Sarah.

Words count: 1.4k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 11 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Since you and Joel started dating, you had practically lived in Joel’s house. All of your stuff was slowly moved to his house. You visited your house just to take some things and cleaned up once in a while.

It was another morning and you woke up earlier to make breakfast. You slowly got out of bed not to wake Joel up. Before you went to the kitchen downstairs, you checked up on Sarah in her bedroom.

“Morning sweetie. You’re already awake, huh?” You opened the door and saw her eyes were already open.

“Why don’t you wait with daddy while I make breakfast?” You lifted her and kissed her cheek.

You carried Sarah back to your bedroom and laid her next to Joel. Then you went to the kitchen and started making breakfast. You cooked some eggs, bacon, and toast. You didn’t forget to make Joel some coffee too. After you were done with everything, you walked upstairs to wake Joel up.

You chuckled softly when you saw Sarah sucking Joel’s nose. Apparently, Sarah thought her dad’s nose was a pacifier. You wished you could keep this image forever. You put your hand on your chest as you were touched by what you were seeing. You felt warmth watching Joel and her daughter sleeping so soundly with his big arms surrounding her little body. (I saw a video about this on tiktok and found it so cute then I thought it would be so cute if it was Pedro especially with his beautiful nose😭)

“Baby..” You chuckled as you gently shook Joel a few times.

“Huh?” Joel opened his eyes and pulled back.

Joel rubbed his wet nose and looked at his hand. He was confused. You laughed.

“Sarah just sucked on your nose.” You chuckled.

“Oh..” He just understood the reason why his nose was wet.

“She thought my nose was a pacifier?” He wiped his nose with the blanket.

“I think so.” You chuckled again.

“Hey, babygirl. It’s daddy’s nose, not a pacifier.” He raised his daughter and blew on her tummy.

Sarah woke up again and giggled. She patted her dads cheeks with both of her hands while Joel bounced her. Joel chuckled at his daughter. He could never get angry at his daughter. He loved her too much.

“Okay babygirl, I know you’re hungry so time for breakfast.” You lifted Sarah and carried her downstairs.

Joel followed you downstairs as he took his shirt and wore it. You put Sarah to sit on the baby chair then you grabbed a glass of orange juice and passed it to Joel.

“Where’s my coffee?” He refused to take the glass from your hand.

“Drink this then you get to drink your coffee.” You sighed as you shoved the glass to him.

“I don’t like it.” He insisted.

“Oh..my baby doesn't like orange juice huh. Here, let mama feed you.” You cooed at him as you tried to feed him.

He swerved and held the glass from your hand.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be such a baby. You need vitamin C.” You patted his shoulder and walked to the dining table.

Joel stared at you while he gulped the whole glass. You smirked looking at him.

“There you go, mama’s boy.” You pinched his cheek and cooed at him.

“You do that again and you’re gonna be responsible for me bein’ late to work.” He raised his eyebrows while munching on his breakfast.

“How am I gonna be responsible?” You teased him.

“You know what I mean.” His lustful eyes moved up and down scanning your body.

“Oh my God Joel!” You gasped.

“Not in front of a baby!” Your hand moved to cover baby Sarah’s ear as she giggled.

“Your fault.” He pointed at you with his fork.

Of course you wanted morning sex with him, but you didn’t want to be the reason why he was late to work. So you had to act like you weren’t aroused by him acting like a little kid hating on orange juice with that morning face, morning voice and morning hair.

“Stop it. Just eat your breakfast.” You chuckled and shook your head.

Joel finished his breakfast and got ready to work. Since you moved in, the two of you always kissed each other goodbye before leaving to work.

“Got your keys?” You reminded him.

“Yep.” He showed the car keys to you.

“Okay, daddy’s going to work babygirl.” Joel kissed his daughter’s forehead on your arms and went out.

“Bye baby.” He just put his hand on your shoulder and left.

You froze as he shut the door close. He had never forgotten to kiss you before he left for work but why did it happen today? Not after all the teasing when you had breakfast with him.

“What the fuck?” You flinched at yourself.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I just didn’t expect daddy to forget to kiss me.” You caressed Sarah’s head.

You sighed in disappointment as you turned your heel and walked to the living room. You put Sarah to play on the carpet and suddenly the door opened. It was Joel.

“What? Did you forget something?” You frowned and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I forgot somethin’.” He smirked as he walked closer to you.

“Just get your stuff and go. You’re gonna be late.” You got on your knees and passed Sarah her toy.

“I forgot this.” Joel crouched beside you and gave you a kiss.

You pouted as he cupped your cheeks.

“I got you, didn’t I?” Joel sneaked his head inside and smirked.

“Fuck you.” You cursed at him.

“I love you baby. There’s no way I forgot to kiss you. I was just teasin’ you cause you forced me to drink orange juice.” He chuckled as he leaned in and dragged your head to kiss you.

“Don’t do that again.” You hit his chest.

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight baby.” He gave you one more peck.

“Have a great day at work, mama’s boy.” You gave him another peck and smirked.

Joel chuckled as he dragged your head close, squeezed your face until you pout, then he gave you many pecks. You chuckled and caressed his head before he left to work.

“Go!” You shooed him.

You went on with your day as usual and went home earlier to prepare dinner before Joel arrived home. You were in the kitchen when you heard something drop. Your heart beat faster and you rushed to the living room to check on Sarah.

“Oh my God!” You covered your mouth as you gasped.

To your surprise, Sarah just stood up and walked baby steps on her own. Every day, Joel would let Sarah hold on to his fingers and helped her learn to walk. You and Joel had taught her and finally she could walk on her own. You were so proud and you couldn’t wait for Joel to see his daughter walking on her own.

I hope this pic can help you imagine 😭

“Oh sweetie! I’m so proud of you!” You crouched cupping her cheeks and she giggled.

“Your dad gotta see this!” You squealed at her small face.

You kept thinking how to surprise Joel in a special way. Suddenly, you had the idea to buy some balloons. So you decided to go on a short trip to the nearest store to buy some balloons. When you heard Joel’s car parked in the driveway, you ran to get the balloons and tie them to Sarah’s wrist. You put Sarah near the door so she would be the first thing he saw when he opened the door. You stood behind Sarah just in case she fell. You jumped excitedly when you heard Joel’s keys jingled.

“I’m ho-” Joel didn’t finish as his jaw dropped when he saw his daughter walking towards him.

“Babygirl!” He crouched right away and took his daughter to his arms.

“She’s a big girl!” Joel teared up.

“I know!” You hugged Joel and sandwiched Sarah.

“Daddy’s proud of you.” Joel kissed his daughter’s forehead.

Then Joel kissed you and the three of you had a family hug for a moment. Enjoying the present and making sure this precious moment was kept inside your memories forever.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

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idontknowreallywhy · 5 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

A very silly thing based on a silly idea I had about how the Tracys might approach food which has already caused two people to declare they felt physically unwell at the thought of it…

He’s an active boy and needs the calories… honest…

🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟

“Howdie and welcome to Top Friez! What can I get y’all?”

“May I have a Tomcat fries but no pickles please? Oh, and an F-14 lemonade?”

“Sure, darlin’. And for yooou…oooh… uh… hi!”

‘Another one bites the dust’ Estera noted to herself and pressed her tongue hard against the back of her teeth in an effort not to laugh out loud at the poor woman. Scott, as ever, gave the appearance of not having noticed the waiting staff dissolving into jelly in front of him.

“I’ll get a Darkstar Shake, and a Maverick’s Madness with everything, please.”

The waitress paused, her finger hovering above the tablet.

“E-everything?”

“Everything.” Scott insisted with a cheeky smile and the waitress collapsed into giggles.

“Wow I don’t think there’s a button for that! You might need to give me a minute to tick all the boxes…”

“Take as much time as you need.”

The waitress started tapping frantically and Estera paused mid-eyeroll to double-check the full list of toppings.

“Scott you cannot have EVERYTHING… there must be at least 12 different sauce options alone not to mention all these cheeses and…”

“I’ve considered the options and made my choice.”

“But… bbq pulled pork, beef brisket AND shredded Asian chicken? Together?!”

“Yep.”

“AND BACON?”

“Oh, good point” He touched the waitress lightly on the elbow and apologised when she leapt into the air: “I’m so sorry, could I get extra bacon please.”

The waitress kept an admirably straight face as she scrolled back to make a note.

“Surely not 4 variants of slaw, Scott… that’s… they’ll clash…”

“Complement.”

“Curdle more like. Oh and they’re going to go so very very nasty with the gravy.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“I’m pretty sure I won’t get a chance and nor will you because you’ll be arrested for crimes against gastronomy any minute now.”

“Welcome to the Land of the Free, my friend” Scott responded with a grand sweep of an arm “There are no such crimes here.”

🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟🍟

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #wip wednesday #Scott Tracy #tb estera #ill-advised menu choices #man Vs food has nothing on Tracy Vs food #idontknowreallywhy wip

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creepyscritches · 2 years ago

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What creamy garlic soup recipe do you use? :o

I use my own :)

Full recipe under cut.

Cream of Roasted Garlic Soup

Ingredients

4 - 6 heads garlic (6 only needed if heads are under 2" diameter)

1 sweet onion, chopped

5 cups chicken stock

1 1/2 cups heavy cream

1 1/4 cups finely grated parmesan (shredded will not blend into a smooth soup, grated is a must!)

4 tablespoons cornstarch

1 1/2 teaspoon oregano

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

Cooking steps

Preheat oven to 350°F. Cut tops of garlic off to expose cloves. Place cut-side up in small square of aluminum foil and wrap loosely, leaving the tops of the garlic visible. Sprinkle a pinch of salt and pepper over the exposed cloves and drizzle olive oil over entire head, making sure to get a little on every clove (wiggle that olive oil around and it does the trick. Olive oil AFTER salt and pepper helps the seasoning to seep to the bottom of the cloves = yummy and easy). Tightly wrap the foil around the heads to completely cover the garlic. Keeping cut-side up, place in baking pan and bake for 45 minutes.

While garlic is roasting, heat a drizzle of olive oil in a large soup pot on medium high heat. Add chopped onion and stir to fully coat in oil. Cook over medium high heat, stirring occasionally, until onions just begin to caramelize (10-12 minutes). Remove from heat and set to side.

Once garlic is finished roasting and cooled enough to handle, press the roasted cloves out of skins directly into a food processor. Add cooked onions and 4 1/2 cups of chicken stock to processor. Purée until smooth.

Pour soup back into pot used to cook the onions and bring to medium low heat. Stir in 1 1/2 cups of heavy cream (add more cream for a milder flavor, the soup will turn out the same consistency!)

In a small bowl, create a slurry by gradually whisking 4 tablespoons of cornstarch into 4 tablespoons of chilled chicken stock. Once whisked completely smooth, slowly combine with soup while stirring continuously. (This step can be skipped if you don't want a thick soup consistency. It makes no change to the flavor.)

Gradually mix in the 1 1/4 cups of grated parmesan cheese. Add oregano and salt and pepper to taste. Add any type of pasta if desired (cheese tortellini pairs very well) and serve with fresh sprinkle of parmesan. May also be topped with crumbled fried pancetta or bacon.

If soup is too strong, heavy cream and chicken broth can be added at the end to adjust garlic's flavor dominance.

It can be frozen and saved, but when reheating be sure to gradually warm it so as to not separate the heavy cream. :3

#Creepy chatter #Garlic soup be upon ye

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angelkin-food-cake · 9 months ago

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Cheesy Bacon Wrapped Puff Pastry Twists

½ cup light or dark brown sugar

1-2 Tbsp. chopped fresh rosemary, using to your taste

kosher salt and black pepper.

2 sheets (1 box) frozen puff pastry, thawed

1 egg, beaten

1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese (or a mix of your favorite cheeses)

1-2 tsp. cayenne pepper (optional)

24 strips thin cut bacon, or 12 sticks of thicker bacon, halved

1. Preheat oven to 375° F. Line 2 baking sheets with foil and place a wire rack on top. Lightly rub each rack with olive oil.

In a shallow bowl, combine the brown sugar, rosemary, and a pinch each of salt and pepper.

Place both sheets of pastry on a lightly floured counter. Brush the surface of each with a beaten egg. Evenly sprinkle about 1/2 cup of cheese over each sheet, then sprinkle with cayenne. Dust a rolling pin lightly with flour and roll the rolling pin over the cheese, gently pressing the cheese into the pastry. Fold the pastry in half, then cut each into 12 (1/2 inch) wide strips. Pinch the ends to seal, then gently twist each strip several times to enclose the cheese. It's ok if some of the cheese falls out.

Take a piece of bacon and wrap it around the twisted pastry. Repeat with the remaining twists. Dredge the twist through the brown sugar mix, tossing to coat, placing the twist on the prepared baking sheet as you go.

Bake 30 to 50 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through. My bacon took 50 minutes to cook, start checking the twists at around 30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

#angelkin #food #appetizer #snack #brown sugar #egg #cheese #cayenne pepper #meat #pork #bacon #dogkin #dragonkin #elfkin #herokin #merkin #moutainkin #pantherkin #winter

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karahalloway · 1 year ago

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Sleepless in New York: Chapter 12 - Hungover on You

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: The time has come to fly back home... but who won the bet?

Word Count: 6,800

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, aggravation, references to graphic images, references to sex, references to bodily functions, toilet humour, motive for murder, way too much caffeine)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Thank you so much for bearing with me! This chapter was supposed to be done quickly but then it suddenly exploded into the almost 7,000-word monster that you see before you (I blame Leo 😆). Hopefully, the contents make up for the longer-than-planned wait! There will be one more chapter.

A/N2: As an FYI, everything that is mentioned is true/correct/accurate. Yes, everything! You'll know what I mean when you get to it! 🙃

Chapter 12 - Hungover on You

"Mmm... You're right... These pancakes are heavenly...!" enthuses Max 'round an overstuffed gob.

"I have to admit, I may have been skeptical at first, given the somewhat... dated nature of the décor," admits Chris, skewering the last bite of his own stack, "but I am very glad that I did not allow first impressions to sway me, and to instead let the delights of the fare speak for itself."

I throw him a sidelong glance. "I told you to trust me, didn't I?"

"That you did, mate," Chris chuckles good-naturedly. "That you did."

"Drake always finds the best food," sighs Max as he closes his eyes in blissful appreciation.

I shrug nonchalantly. If you know where to look...

Having hit up Times Square and snapping the obligatory pic or two — it's the end of the trip... fuck it — I'd heeded Chris' final request for this trip by tracking down somewhere we could fuel up before our fast-approaching flight home.

And given the questionable-looking nature of our chosen venue, Chris' initial trepidation had been more than understandable.

Because from the outside — but for the tell-tale smell of bacon wafting out onto the street — this joint looks more like an illicit drug den than a bona fide restaurant. The single-paned window that faces the street has a massive crack in it, the doorway stinks of stale urine, and I wouldn't be surprised if a dead body or two had ended up in the dumpster 'round the back.

The inside's not much better, either. It's a cheap, no-frills galley-kitchen kind of set-up manned by a single, overweight chef who pumps out eggs, bacon, pancakes and hash browns in massive portions while you sit on the other side of the greasy, Lino-covered counter on creaky, '60's bar stools, sipping fully-leaded coffee from chipped mugs.

In short, the complete antithesis of the polished and slightly over-glammed feel of the retro, 1950s diner we ate at yesterday.

And that's why I picked it. Because after having been up the whole night, we need something to sub-in for our lack of sleep, and nothing tastes better than comfort food when you're craving a calorie hit. Plus, Chris had wanted a 'classic' Stateside breakfast experience, and it doesn't get much more Americana than this...

"What is all that sticky goop that it's swimming in?"

...except for the fact that I have Tariq sitting on the other side of me, complaining loudly about every-damn-thing that offends his toffee-nosed sensibilities.

Because as per usual, I can't seem to take two steps in this fuckin’ city without the Almighty crapping on me.

Our butts had just hit the stools when Chris' phone began lighting up with a million-and-one messages from Max asking where we were, what the plan was, and was there any food anywhere.

So, Chris (being Chris) had extended the breakfast invite to not only Max, but to the rest of our band of noble misfits, meaning that our laid-back outing has now morphed into a real-life rendition of The Breakfast Club.

I suppress a groan as I take another swig of my scalding coffee, careful not to move my mouth too much, given that — on top of everything — my jaw has set into exactly the kind of contused stiffness that I'd hoped to avoid.

My own damn fault for not icing the damn thing down when I had the chance...

The only person missing is Leo.

Not that I really care. I've had enough of that guy and his BS for one trip. And the main reason I haven't decked him yet for the shit he pulled last night is because I haven't actually seen him since Gale and I got booted from the club.

And I don't want to ruin Chris' last hour in the Big Apple by knocking his brother's teeth out.

The same can't be said for Tariq, though...

"It's maple syrup, Besnard..." I grunt at him, trying to maintain my focus on the viscous caffeine in my hand, and not the half-a-dozen ways in which I could smash the asshole's face into the countertop.

Because after the steady stream of crap that's hit the fan in the past 36 hours, the only thing keeping me on this side of sane right now is the free-refill mugs of coffee that I've been pouring into myself since we sat down.

Which means that my mood's dancing on a hair trigger, and I'm one stupid comment away from committing violence.

The chef'd probably thank me, though...

Tariq flashes me a disgusted look. "Maple syrup...? You mean tree sap? That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard of!"

"A lot of things come from trees, dipshit..." I mutter, forcing myself to keep staring at the wall ahead.

Tariq scoffs. "Why would—?"

"Cinnamon is obtained from the inner bark of various South and South East Asian tree species," Chris reminds him.

"And cloves are the dried aromatic flower buds of the clove tree," adds Max, chewing loudly on a ketchup-coveted tater-tot.

Tariq glares down the counter disdainfully. "What are you lot? Walking encyclopaedias...?"

"We just know where our food comes from, Besnard," I grind out around the rim of my mug. "As would you if you ever bothered to step outside."

"Where it comes from is irrelevant," comes the derisive clap-back. "The only thing that matters is the price tag."

"Even when it's been through the digestive tract of a wild animal?" interjects Max with a perfectly straight face.

Tariq nearly spews his over-steeped tea across the room. "What!"

"Certain brands of coffee demand a premium price because of their somewhat... exotic processing process," affirms Chris. "For instance, Kopi Luwak is the most exclusive coffee in the world primarily because it comes from beans that have been consumed and then excreted by the Indonesian palm civet."

Tariq's eyes bulge. "Excreted... As in—?"

"Pooped out," confirms Max gleefully. "Through tiny little butt holes."

Tariq looks like he's about to puke.

"That is correct," continues Chris. "The bile in the civet's digestive system causes the fermentation of—"

Tariq bolts from his chair.

"Lemme guess..." I drawl, turning to face the other two. "The fuck stick's just realised that he's willingly subjected himself to this fancy ass coffee."

"Ass being the operative word..." sniggers Max as he mops up the escaped yolk from his sunny-side-up eggs with a piece of over-buttered toast.

"Yes," laughs Chris, reaching for his own mug of coffee. "He accompanied his father on a business trip to Indonesia last year where he was given the 'Holy Grail' of coffees as a gift..."

"...not realising what it actually was," I snort. "Typical."

The door of the dive creaks open.

"Speaking of typical..." I muttered under my breath as I glance over my shoulder and catch sight of the familiar figure who's just stepped through the entranceway.

"Hey, hey, hey, party people!" greets Leo as he saunters up to us like he doesn't have a care in the world...

...Oh, wait. He never does.

"Glad you could make it!" smiles Chris as he gets up from his stool to clasp his brother's hand in his own. "I was starting to think maybe you lost your phone again."

"I did, as a matter of fact," confirms Leo with a lop-sided grin, fist-pumping Max as he flops down into Tariq's now-vacant seat.

Chris frowns. "But then how—?"

"DiCaprio took pity on me and gave me a new one he had lying around his flat... Which, I have to say, is pretty sweet."

Max is gaping in starry-eyed admiration. "You got to go to famous Leo's apartment? Jealous!"

"No party like the after-party! And that man knows how to party. Oh! Bacon!" the elder Rys exclaims, suddenly laying eyes on Tariq's abandoned plate.

Chris still looks confused. "But if you lost your phone—"

"The magic of the eSIM, baby!" declares Leo with a full mouth as he brandishes a brand-new iPhone into the air. "Been using it for years! Why d'you think my number never changes?"

Chris opens, then closes his mouth. "Fair point."

"Glad to see you haven't lost your touch, Walker," continues Leo with a shit-eating grin as he elbows me in the ribs. "This place is the perfect spot to get daytime murdered in!"

"Careful what you wish for, Rys..." I mutter under my breath.

"Good bacon, though!" he quips, filching another rasher.

"We can order you a helping if you're hungry..." offers Chris.

"Nah, I'm good," replies Leo, dunking the bacon into some syrup. "Grabbed a bagel on the way from this awesome little Jewish place. Do you know that they even—?"

"Oh, dear God...!" gasps Tariq, bursting back into the dining area with a horrified look on his face. "That restroom is disgusting!"

I clench my eyes shut. Sweet Jesus give me strength...

"I admit it smelled a bit funky," concedes Max, "but nothing worse than when Bertrand—"

"There is excrement floating in the toilet bowl!" Tariq all but shrieks.

"Lemme guess..." I murmur to Chris under my breath. "He didn't know how that shit got made either."

Chris' eyes bulge as his coffee goes down the wrong way.

"That is generally what happens when you take a dump," Max tells him prosaically.

"It wasn't mine!!"

"Hate to break it to you, old sport," intones Leo, laying a hand on Besnard's shoulder, "but not every pisser flushes itself. So, you're going to have t—"

"No!" interjects Tariq, shoving Leo's arm away. "I refuse to go back in there! In fact, I've had it with this entire establishment, this entire city, and this entire bloody trip! Everybody is rude, nobody respects me, and I have suffered enough denigration to last me a lifetime! I am leaving!"

Throwing his nose into the air, he turns on the heel of his treadless Ferragamo loafers to stomp out of the diner.

"Christ!" huffs Leo as he jerks a derisive thumb in Tariq's direction. "Who pissed in his Earl Grey?"

"Oh, he's just miffed because he knows he lost the bet last night," supplies Max 'round a mouthful of toast.

Leo perks up. "What bet?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake..." I groan.

I'd completely forgotten 'bout the stupid bet...

"He does know that the hotel is in the other... direction..." coughs Chris, having finally managed to clear the wayward coffee from his lungs. "Doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't bet on it," I mutter, watching Tariq nearly get run over by an early morning cab as he tries to cross the street. "If we're lucky, he'll end up in Brooklyn again."

Chris starts hacking all over again as he tries and fails to stifle a laugh. "You're a...horrible person..."

"But I'm not wrong," I tell him, pointedly lifting my mug to my mouth again.

"Screw the sour-arsed sod!" cries Leo. "I want to know about this bet! And why I wasn't included on it!"

"You weren't there," I tell him tersely. "Plus, you'd've been ineligible anyway."

"Why would I—?" The proverbial lightbulb clicks to life in Leo's head. "Ooh! It was a race to fourth base, wasn't it?"

"Congrats, Sherlock," I grunt. "You've graduated to deductive reasoning..."

"Not just a pretty face, Walker," winks Leo in reply.

I roll my eyes as I return my attention to my coffee.

"But who's the winner...?" Leo continues contemplatively, eyeing the rest of us.

Max opens his mouth...

"No! Don't tell me!" decrees Leo, shoving a hand into the Beaumont's face. "I wasn't included in the bet, so I demand some vicarious recompense! I'm going to guess!"

"How—?" starts Chris.

"By using my incomparable situational awareness, sprinkled with just a smidge of mind-reading!"

"Sounds mystical..." admits Chris.

"Oh, it is! Prepare to be amazed!"

"I'm ready!" shouts Max like an overeager five-year old.

My head hits the Lino between my arms with a pained groan. Somebody just shoot me...

"Alrighty, then," declares Leo, rubbing his hands together with an ungodly dose of perverse satisfaction. "So, we know for a fact that Toss-Pot Besnard never made it out the gate, and—"

"How are you so certain?" asks Chris with a frown.

"For a start, it's Tariq," I mutter at him from the greasy countertop. "Plus, if by some miracle he had managed to pull, he'd've been bragging about it as soon as he walked in."

"True..." Chris concedes with a laugh.

"But, more importantly," adds Max, "Lucy and Jamie — the two girls he'd been after — ended up taking me home last night."

My head snaps up so fast, I nearly give myself whiplash. "They fucking what?"

"You heard me!" grins Max like the Grinch who stole Christmas.

"Hayley and Harper's friends..." reiterates Chris carefully. "You slept with both of them?"

"Yup!" comes the cocky affirmation.

"Well, fuck me running..." I scoff with a shake of my head.

Though I can't seem to stop an involuntary smirk from pulling at my mouth. Because that shit? That's impressive.

"Yes, gold star to Baby Beaumont," agrees Leo with a grin, slapping Max on the back. "But did he seal the deal before my little brother? That's the million-dollar question..."

"What about Drake?" interjects Chris. "He and Harper—"

"Oh, Walker didn't score!" laughs Leo.

Chris' eyes widen as he turns back to me. "You didn't? But you were the first to leave."

"Not by choice..." I admit sourly.

"Captain America here got his arse handed to him by a couple of beefcakes..." Leo explains.

"Fuck you, Rys!" I snap. "It was five against one and I still held my ground!"

"It was you who got caught up in that fight?" gasps Max. "That looked brutal..."

"It would certainly explain the bruises on your face," muses Chris, eyeing me critically. "And the ripped shirt."

I make a vague noise by way of reply. But I don't bother to correct him. The details aren't important. They lead to the same result.

Not that that's anybody's business...

"...and promptly got tossed out the club with Swifty in tow," continues Leo cheerfully. "Which I'm guessing is the reason why she wasn't willing to put out, because—"

I shoot off the stool, shattering the mug in my hand in the process. "Mention her one more time, Rys, and I swear to God—"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" interjects Max with a frantic wave of his hands. "If he left with Harper, how do you know that he didn't—?"

Leo jabs an uncompromising finger into my face. "Does this look like the expression of a man who spent the night warmly cocooned by the soft embrace of a woman's supple and welcoming thighs?"

I slap his hand away with a growl.

"Hmm..." muses Max, narrowing his eyes at me. "Now that you mention it... He does seem surprisingly grouchy this morning. Even more so than he was last night..."

"Beaumont..." I warn.

"Whereas my little brother is positively glowing!" continues Leo, fanning his hands around Chris by way of illustration. "Tell me you don't see the difference!"

"Fuck you, both," I grunt, slinging myself down into the barstool again.

A fresh mug of coffee appears before me, as if by magic.

I grab for it tersely. Where's the whiskey when you need it...?

"I rest my case," declares Leo smugly. "Which means, it's down to Lord Three-Way Beaumont and Prince Pull-Hard Charming. But who took their ladies to Heaven first...?"

"It doesn't matter," I grunt abrasively. "Max isn't in the running."

"I am afraid he is correct," Chris agrees after a second's reflection, glancing at Max. "No one backed you, so—"

"Rubbish!" objects Leo loudly. "The sheer act of the ménage à trois should guarantee him a spot in the champions' league, if not the entirety of the pot outright!"

"Except he's not the one who gets the money," I point out. "It's the person who ponied him."

"Christ, if it's that much of an issue, I'll punt him!" declares Leo. "What were the stakes?"

"Eight hundred ducats," Max tells him.

"Done," Leo declares, pulling his wallet out to drop a handful of Ben Franklins on the counter.

Chris meets my eye. "Your call, Drake. It's your money on the line."

I flick my eyes between Max and Chris, before letting out a low breath. "Fuck it. Let's make it interesting."

Pulling my own wallet out, I slap the requisite cash down as well.

Because worst case? I'm out of pocket $500. But best case? I net four times that. And I'm my book, that's a play worth making. Especially when my money's on Chris.

"That's my man!" whoops Leo, punching me enthusiastically in the arm.

"Careful, Rys," I warn him as Chris and Max add their contributions to the purse as well. "It's your dough I'm about to walk away with..."

"Eh..." shrugs Leo unconcernedly. "Money's relative."

"Spoken like a born-and-bred fat cat," I reply dryly.

"And now for the big reveal!" shouts Leo, clapping his hands together. "The stakes are set. The buttocks are clenched. Who takes the crown of Don Juan?"

Chris and Max exchange wry looks.

"What time did you get back to the hotel?" Max asks.

"Just after midnight, I believe..."

"Twelve thirty-five," I tell him.

Max's feet start dancing beneath him. "Oh, this is going to be close! We got back to the girls' flat around half-past as well."

"Sod all that!" cries Leo. "Get to the climax, gents! We want to know who got slob on their knob first!"

"Well, after we got back to the suite, we shared a drink before we..." Chris clears his throat. "...retired to the bedroom. So, perhaps 1am?"

"Yeah-yah!" enthuses Leo with a snap of his fingers. "Bring it home like a pro, bro!"

"Not sure why you're rooting for him," I scoff.

"I am permitted to share in my little brother's sex-tastic accomplishments!" he counters. "Especially when I'm the one who taught him everything he knows!"

"Except now, it's about to leave you out of pocket," I smirk, reaching for the pile of cash.

"Hold on!" interjects Max, scrolling furiously through his phone. "I think I have Christian beat!"

I frown. "How in the—?"

"Watch it and weep!" the Beaumont exclaims triumphantly, thrusting his phone out.

Leaning in towards the device — from the speakers of which spew the unmistakably pornographic sounds of sex — Leo, Chris, and I are greeted with a bird's eye view of Max balling Lucy from behind while she went down on Jamie's spread-eagled form on the bed.

Leo's jaw drops. "You filmed it?"

"Would've been rude not to," smirks Max.

"You dirty bugger!" laughs Leo, grabbing the Beaumont to noogie him.

I pull my eyes away from the X-rated spectacle. "Okay, but how does this—?"

"Look at the...time stamp," prompts Max from beneath Leo's arm.

Glancing back at the screen, I focus in on the tiny numbers at the top.

12:52am.

My shoulders slump. "Goddamn it."

"Looks like we have our winner," Chris concedes with a wry chuckle.

"You're not even going to contest it?" I demand, throwing an accusatory hand out at Max.

"I am not sure there is anything to contest," replies Chris. "The numbers speak for themselves. And since Maxwell is the only one out of the two of us who had the foresight to record the exact timing of the event, I think it is only fair that he takes the pot."

"Yeah, baby!" whoops Leo, jumping off his stool with outstretched arms to thrust out an in-your-face victory dance à la Ace Ventura. "Can you feel it? Can... you... feel it?! Damn, it feels good!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." I grunt with a roll of my eyes.

But, Leo's asinine antics aside, I have to hand it to Max. Not only did the guy manage to go above and beyond, but he somehow managed to beat the clock as well.

So, I can't begrudge second place too much.

"I believe this is rightfully yours, big brother," declares Chris, graciously handing the pile of bills over.

"Why, thank you, little brother!" grins Leo as he accepts the winnings with a mock bow...

...before studiously dumping the cash into Max's lap.

The Beaumont's eyes widen in disbelief. "I— But you— I didn't—"

"Hey, I wasn't the one with my pants down on the front lines last night," he says. "So, if anyone deserves the spoils of war, it's you."

Max is still gawping like a stupefied goldfish. "But—"

"Spend it well, kemosabe," the elder Rys incants somberly, laying a hand on Max's shoulder.

"Th-thank you," stammers Max, suddenly overcome with unexpected emotion.

"Ehh... Don't mention it!" shrugs Leo with a grin. "I'm just here for the memories. Though... speaking of, if you want your lasting memories of this trip to be anything other than dear Father sending a squadron of Guards after you to haul you back across the Pond, I suggest you get your tushes to the airport."

"Oh, shit..." I cuss, glancing down at my watch. "We gotta move." Necking the last of my coffee, I signal for the cheque.

"Are you flying back with us?" asks Chris as he pushes himself off his stool.

"Nah," demurs Leo, reaching across his brother to grab the final piece of bacon off Tariq's plate. "As much as I'd love to steal your thunder by gate-crashing yet another fancy ball that I don't have an invitation to, you know Regina still hasn't revoked that shoot-on-sight order she put out on my head last year."

Chris laughs. "I'm sure it's not all that bad..."

"You'd be surprised!" insists Leo with only a touch of sardonicism. "Plus, I promised Katie that I'll bring her back a box of cronuts. So, I got a few errands to run before I jet out."

"Well, in that case," replies Chris, reaching out to envelop his brother in a hug, "thank you for coming, and we'll hopefully see each other soon!"

"You can bet on it, matey," confirms Leo, giving Chris a heartfelt thump on the back before pulling away. "At the Coronation, if nothing else."

Chris' eyes widen. "Father signed off on your attendance?"

"Not yet," the elder Rys admits. "But I'm slowing wearing the old man down."

"Well, I — for one — certainly hope you succeed!" laughs Chris.

"I have faith in myself," winks Leo. Leaning past Chris, he reaches out to bump knuckles with Max. "Beaumont. Say hi to Bert for me."

"Will do," nods Max. "And thank you. Again. You really didn't—"

"Like I said," Leo deflects with an arrant smirk. "Don't even mention it."

Max nods gratefully.

Finally, Leo turns to me. "Walker."

I meet his eye impassively as I draw myself up to my full height to face him. "Rys."

"You got his six, right?" he asks, inclining his head almost imperceptibly back towards his brother, who — true to his earlier promise — is in the process of intercepting the bill before it can make it to me.

"Come hell or high water," I affirm.

"Good," he nods, his expression uncharacteristically tight. "'Cause there's going to be both. And he'll need someone to help pull him through."

"This ain't my first rodeo, Leo," I remind him, watching Chris trying to figure out which greenback was which with Max's help as he sought to pay for our breakfast.

"I know," acknowledges Leo, his face tightening as the memories of the fallout from the assassination attempt flash through his memory. "But I still appreciate it. He is my only brother, after all."

I meet his eye. "Then you know why I'm doing it."

Leo holds my gaze for a long moment before extending his hand. "You're a good friend, Drake."

"Someone's gotta be," I tell him with a wry smile, reciprocating the gesture.

Leo might grate me up the wrong way with his bad jokes and juvenile attitude, but we are — and always have been — on the same page when it comes to Chris.

"They're rarer than you think," Leo murmurs softly. Dropping my hand, he turns back to Chris and Max, who have finally managed to settle the bill, plus tip. "Ciao, amigos! It's been a blast!"

"Have a good flight!" Chris tells him with a wave.

"I always do!" Leo assures him. "Stay safe, little brother. Give the ladies a fair chance, don't do anything I wouldn't—"

I scoff. "Is there even such a thing?"

"—and remember," Leo continues unabashedly, "if you're ever in doubt, there's always the balcony!"

Chris stifles a laugh. "I'm sure it won't come to that..."

"Never underestimate the beauty of a Plan B!" Leo hollers over his shoulder as he pulls the rickety door open, and steps out onto the street.

Max stares after him with a perplexed look. "When he said 'balcony'... Did he mean you jumping off it, or you throwing the lady off?"

"I wouldn't read into it too much," I advise as I grab my leather jacket to pull it on. Turning to Chris I ask, "You good?"

"Yes, I think I managed to sort the bill..." he replies, pulling his own jacket on as well. "Fifty percent gratuity is acceptable here, right?"

I nearly dislocate my shoulder putting my arm into a non-existent sleeve. "Erm... Yeah. Sure. More than acceptable."

Christmas definitely came early for this waitress!

But at least the hefty tip would help smooth over any wayward resentment left in the wake of Tariq's ass-like behaviour.

Chris' face visibly relaxes. "Oh, good! I wasn't sure of the correct etiquette."

"Trust me," I drawl, opening the creaky door. "You ain't never gonna fall flat in that department."

"If you say so," concedes Chris with a smile as he and Max follow me out onto the street.

"I know so," I assure him, leading the way back to Broadway.

At just gone 7am on a weekday, the city is already a hive of activity with cyclists, taxis, and pedestrians vying for position on the thoroughfares against the buses, garbage trucks, and private vehicles, as everyone tries to get where they're going just that much faster.

My gaze tracks west almost on auto-pilot. Wonder what Gale's doing... Is she still asleep, or—?

I yank myself forcefully back from the precipice of that dead-end drift.

The only thing that matters right now is getting Chris and Max (...Tariq can go fuck himself) back to the hotel and then getting 'cross town to Teterboro in time for scheduled departure.

Leo hadn't been joking when he'd said that Constantine would not hesitate to unleash a squadron of King's Guard on our tails if we didn't arrive back in Cordonia by the agreed time.

That had been the agreement.

Because the first event of the season kicks off tomorrow with the Masquerade Ball, and Chris has a full week's worth of engagements penciled into the twelve hours beforehand.

Which means that there can be zero deviations, zero slippages. We have to be on that plane...

...even though that's the last thing any of us want to do right now.

Because glancing back at Chris and Max as we make our way up back to the hotel, it's clear that New York has been a much-needed escape for both of them. Not just from the daily grind of court, but also from the strictures of expectation. As here, you weren't your name, or your title, or your birthright.

You were just another guy on the street, trying to make your American dream come true.

And despite — or rather, because of — their stations, that's a privilege that neither Chris nor Max have ever had the luxury of experiencing before. Because even though they may have all the money in the world, one thing they could not buy with it is freedom — true freedom. As money garnered expectations and expectations choked you out like chains around your neck.

And that was life's unfair trade-off...

...unless you were Leo, who somehow managed to screw the pooch into laying him a golden egg by finding a woman who was apparently not only worth abdicating for, but who also turned out to be loaded in her own right, thanks to a very generous inheritance provision in her grandmother's will.

And because that money came with zero strings attached, the lucky bastard got to have it all: living it up large, while also getting to flip the rules and regulations that he's always hated the bird.

But, unfortunately for the rest of us mere mortals who weren't born with the luck of the devil, the best we can hope for are those rare moments in between when the constraints of your usual life fall away, and you're rewarded with a much-needed breath of levity.

And maybe that's why I'd fallen so hard and fast for Gale. Because irrespective of the magnetic pull she had on me, she wasn't just some hot girl I'd happened to hit it off with. As while undeniable, the deep seated attraction went beyond the mere physical... or even the personal.

Because beyond the fact that she was gorgeous, funny, and knocked me for six at every turn, she was more than just simple perfection. She was the sweet promise of possibility. Tantalising me with a taste of what could've been in a world free of obligation. Where I was just me — not an undercover Guard, not a duty-bound friend to a prince, not a jaded outsider confined to the sidelines, always looking in.

But as entrancing as the experience had been, I know it couldn't last.

Because such moments are — by their nature — transient. And like a pre-dawn mist on the water, they dissolve with the first light of the sun.

Just like our time in the States.

Which means that it's time to return to reality. Whether we want to or not.

Because duty always calls.

Arriving back at the hotel, I see that the pre-arranged limo is already idling next to the curb.

Detouring by the driver's side window, I have a quick word with the chauffeur to let him know that we'll be back down in a sec with our bags.

Turning to lope into the hotel, I catch up with Chris and Max just as the lift arrives in the lobby. The doors ping open and we pile in to make our way up to our floor, each of us lost in our respective thoughts.

The elevator arrives on our booked-out floor and we disperse into our rooms to throw our shit together. While packing, I send a text to Schweitzer to let him know that we're bugging out, so his team can start the clean-up and check out.

Zipping my duffle up, I do one last sweep of the space before grabbing the keycard and exiting the room for the final time.

Stepping back out into the corridor as the door clicks shut behind me, I find Chris already waiting for a lift.

"You were quick," I say, coming to a stop next to him.

"Wasn't much to pack," he admits.

"Hayley still there?"

"Yes, she's sleeping," he confirms with a ghost of a smile. "I couldn't bring myself to wake her."

I nod wordlessly. Good-byes suck. They're either gut-wrenching, or awkward, or both. Best to just—

"Will...you be back?" "I wouldn't hold my breath." "Maybe I want to."

The ding of the elevator knocks me back into the present.

Shaking my head, I step into the car after Chris. But for some reason, I can't seem to duck the sudden sense of emptiness that's dropped into my guts. Like I'd forgotten something... Even though I know I haven't.

I rub my eyes. I'm just beat...

I'm about to hit the button for the lobby when Max careens in out of nowhere to throw himself through the wedge between the doors, Gucci backpack dangling haphazardly from his arm.

"Oh, thank God!" he pants, falling gracelessly into the small space. "Thought you'd left already!"

"We wouldn't dream of leaving without you, dear friend," Chris assures him with a laugh.

"Speak for yourself," I grunt abrasively as the doors finally close. "You fall behind, you get left behind."

Max's eyes widen. "You wouldn't!"

I meet his gaze impassively. "Try me."

"But Tariq—"

"—can find his own damn way home," I cut in flatly. "If he ain't buckled up by last and final call, that plane's not waiting for him."

Max flicks his horrified gaze from me to Chris.

Chris shrugs. "Drake is correct. It is unfortunately too short notice to modify the flight plan and—"

Throwing his head down, Max begins typing away furiously on his phone.

"You're wasting you're time, Beaumont," I tell him with a low exhale. "Regardless of where the fuck-wit is, he'll still need to come back to the hotel to get his passport, if nothing else. He ain't gonna make it."

"But we can't just abandon him!"

"He's a grown-ass man," I grunt dispassionately in response as we hit the ground floor again. "If he can't be bothered to look at his overpriced Rolex, then that's his problem. Not mine."

"Chances are he is waiting for us at the terminal already," advises Chris optimistically.

"But—"

"Drop it, Beaumont," I grunt, grabbing my duffel to march out of the elevator car without a backwards glance.

I have no clue why Max is being so hard up about waiting for the dipshit who wasn't even supposed to be on this trip in the first place. Especially since that same dipshit also happens to be in possession of a gold credit card.

So, I really can’t give a flying fuck if Besnard misses the flight. He can pay for his own charter home.

I'm not about to jeopardise Chris' commitments for the benefit of a self-absorbed prick.

Exiting the lobby, I beat a straight line to the back of the waiting limo. The chauffeur spots my approach and scrambles to open the door, but I've already beaten him to it.

Popping the trunk, I toss my duffle in before making my way to the front to grab the shotgun seat while Chris and Max offload their own bags.

A slam of doors, a click of seatbelts and we're pulling out onto 57th St., only ten minutes behind schedule.

I try to settle down for the half-hour drive, but I find my knee jackhammering impatiently. I know we have plenty of time to spare before takeoff, but I hate running late. Even if it's only by a minute.

Because you never what kind of shit's gonna hit the fan — roadworks, lane closure, freeway pileup — and you can't mitigate if you ain't got any time in the bank.

I can only hope and pray that we don't run into any last-minute surprises on the 15 or so miles to the airport.

Chris strikes up some kind of conversation with the chauffeur, but I'm in no mood for small talk. Folding my arms, I try to tune out whatever it is they're saying by watching the skyscrapers flick past as we head west, then north to pick up the George Washington Bridge to Jersey.

And apart from a brief wait at the toll plaza on the other side of the Hudson, the journey passes quickly and uneventfully.

Arriving at the airport concourse, we exit the limo and make our way into the main terminal building. Luckily, at this time in the morning, there are not too many flights, so we pass through customs without any hang-ups...

...except for the fact that Max remains glued to his phone, obsessively-compulsively checking for texts from Tariq every two seconds, even as we board the jet.

"Have you tried calling him?" Chris asks as he stows his bag in preparation for the flight.

"At least ten times," confirms Max, glancing anxiously out the window in the over-keen hope that Tariq will magically appear.

"Maybe his phone ran out of battery..." offers Chris hopefully.

"More likely he got mugged," I grunt, falling into one of the leather seats.

Max throws me a disbelieving look. "That's a horrible—! Oh. You're actually serious..."

"Guy like him... Prime target," I reply dispassionately.

Max's face drains of colour. "We have to call the police!"

"And say what?" I snap abrasively. "That the bell-end got himself lost somewhere in Manhattan? They'll laugh us off the call."

"But—"

"If Tariq really is in trouble, he can hit up the Cordonian consulate," I declare uncompromisingly. "But it was his bright idea to throw a hissy fit and stomp off in the wrong direction when—"

"You ungrateful ingrates!"

My eyes snap past Max. "For fuck's sake..."

Tariq is stood in the doorway of the jet, looking like he'd literally battled his way through the nine levels of hell to get here. His over-gelled hair looks like it's been zapped with a Taser, his clothes are somehow drenched and filthy, and he's wearing only one shoe.

"Would it have killed you to wait?!" he shrieks, throwing his Louis Vuitton man-bag onto the closest seat.

"Yes..." I reply.

Tariq shoots me a murderous expression. But before he can open his mouth again, Max has crushed him into an over-eager bear hug.

"You made it!" he enthuses. He pulls back suddenly. "But why were you not picking up your phone? And also, why do you smell like a wet dog?"

"Because I was robbed!"

"Told ya," I smirk across the aisle at Chris.

"It's not funny!" shouts Tariq, jabbing an irate finger at me. "If you only knew of the horrors that I have been subjected to, you would think more than twice about making light of my plight!"

"Pretty sure I wouldn't..." I mutter with a roll of my eyes.

"What was that?" demands Tariq imperiously.

"Nothing," I grunt as a steward appears next to my seat.

"Can I interest you in a pre-flight refreshment?" she asks.

"Yeah, sure," I shrug.

She hands me something pink and bubbly in a champagne glass. "Enjoy!"

"I doubt it," I mutter, grabbing the flute to throw it back in one swig.

I grimace as the sour mix of grapefruit and Prosecco hits the back of my throat. But alcohol's alcohol, and at this point, I would've downed windscreen wash if it'd've helped drown out Tariq's high-pitched info dump of his trials and tribulations.

Kinda wish we had left the bastard behind...

But I couldn't seem to win on this trip, so I'm just going to have to suck up the next twelve-or-so hours locked up in an airtight fuselage with the bouchebag and pray that there's enough whiskey on board to keep me from choking him out.

Pulling my phone from my pocket to help distract myself, I shoot off one final text to Schweitzer to let him know that we've made it to the airport and we're about to take off.

I'm about to do the same for Bast when the over-taxed device finally gives up the ghost and the battery dies halfway through the text.

"Great..."

Reaching into my duffel with a sigh, I extract the phone's charging cable and plug it into the seat's USB port so it can get some life back while we're airborne.

As Tariq continues to piss and moan about nearly getting run over, having his phone stolen right out of his hand as he tried to call a cab — followed shortly thereafter by his watch — and then tripping and falling into an open excavation hole as he tried to chase after the pickpockets, the cabin crew shut the aircraft door and complete their final cross-checks in preparation for departure.

A quick intro from the captain, and the jet starts rolling. After a short taxi, we're out on the runway, where we idle for a couple of minutes waiting for the go from the tower.

As soon as we get it, the pilot revs the turbines and the jet lurches forward. We hurtle down the runway, wheels bouncing and jet engines whining before jumping into the air to start our climb to 41,000 feet.

Glancing out the window, I watch the ground fall away as we ascend over Jersey, my ears popping from the rapid altitude change.

The plane banks sharply to the right and I catch sight of the Manhattan skyscape...

...but there must've been something in the mimosa because I’ve crashed out before the plane fully levels off.

The story concludes in Epilogue: Into The Night.

A/N: As another little bonus, here is a pic of Chris in Times Square:

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Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits: Breakfast - New York - Diner - Chris - Tariq

Max, Leo, and Drake were generated using the AI art app Wonder

#drake walker #sleepless in new york #prince leo #prince liam #maxwell beaumont #tariq #the royal romance #new york #trr fanfic

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jeusussavearmyveteran1205 · 3 months ago

Text

Low-Carb Bacon Cheeseburger Casserole

Ingredients

2 pounds ground beef

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ teaspoon onion powder

1 pound cooked bacon, cut into pieces

8 eggs

1 cup heavy whipping cream

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon ground black pepper

1 (12 ounce) package shredded Cheddar cheese, divided

DirectionsInstructions Checklist

Step 1

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).

Step 2

Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Cook and stir beef with garlic and onion powder until browned and crumbly, 5 to 7 minutes. Drain and discard grease.

Step 3

Spread beef onto the bottom of a 9x13-inch casserole pan. Stir in bacon pieces.

Step 4

Whisk eggs, heavy cream, salt, and pepper in a medium bowl until well combined. Stir in 8 ounces Cheddar cheese.

Step 5

Pour egg mixture over the beef and bacon. Top with the remaining 4 ounces cheese.

Step 6

Bake in the preheated oven until golden brown on top, 30 to 35 minutes.

#food

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thethinkingaurora · 1 year ago

Note

Hey you, the one with the 'cool thing you think about but don't get to talk about as much as you'd like to.' What is one thing you want to talk about, in as much detail as you'd like (I will read all of it).

Ok one thing that I really think is cool, hmmmmm

This happens every time I’m asked “what do you like” my brain just instantly vacates everything I do, it’s just like “Error 404: Life Experiences not found”

Hmmmmmm, I’d probably say ciphers/encryption

Ok so encryption and ciphers, simple in concept but holy hell does this shit get complex and fun fast

I first found out about them from the Secret Breakers book series (I love it, would definitely recommend), and then I went to a CTYI (Centre for Talented Youth Ireland) course and learned more about them and how they work, in between these two events I also did a load of research and got really hyper fixated on them, I then proceeded to learn more and begin creating my own and making my own little puzzles and stuff

Ok so encipherment and encryption both do a similar job, obfuscate a message to hide it, they were used in the World Wars to send messages to people in enemy lines on both sides (most notably the Enigma Machine), encryption often uses mathematics and numbers linked in certain ways to hide things, ciphers are a little different in the way they operate, ciphers are obfuscations but it’s easier to hide that they are obfuscations as they can often look like normal text

For example, the Baconian cipher uses something similar to binary and highlighted text to hide a message, so 00000 is A, 00001 is B, 00010 is C, so on, so where there is a one you highlight the letter

So to hide the word “hi” you need at least 10 letters, but less that 15, so “hello there” is our ten letters and hi translates to 00111 01000, so we highlight the letters specified, which gives us “hello there” (the baconian cipher was made by Sir Francis Bacon and he has many written letters with hidden messages in them, that’s all I can remember off the top of my head)

But using encryption (for example Base64) “hi” would become “aGk=“ which is much more obvious that it is a hidden message

I’ll explain how encryption is used in real life somewhat in a reblog later, I just want to get back to where I was as uI just accidentally deleted a huge chunk of what I had typed (as in I opened Google to check my spelling and tumblr decided it would be the perfect time to restart, I’m typing this on my phone)

Ok so onto the ciphers, the one that I really really like

So ciphers have been in use for millennia, I’ll start with a common enough one, The Polybius Square

The Polybius Square was created by an Ancient Greek scholar called Polybius(yeah he tried really hard when naming his cipher), the cipher is a simple enough substitution cipher (a substitution cipher is where certain letters or symbols are replaced by others things), where letters are replaced using 2 digits which mark there position on the square

Which looks like this, it goes like this 11=A, 12=B, 13=C, 14=D, 15=E, 21=F, and so on, you’ll notice that in 24, instead of a single letter is both “i” and “j” simply for the reason that you can’t make a square out of 26 boxes

Early ciphers were often only used by themselves but later they were used together to make more complex ciphers whether this be where it was encoded once and then encoded again or that the two were used at the same time to do some funny shenanigans

A great example of this is the ADGFX cipher which uses a modified Polybius Square along with Columnar Transpostion

Ok I’ll explain the ADGFX cipher in just a second ima explain columnar transposition first, so with columnar transposition you need a key, we’ll use “cargo” (the general standard) so first take your message and split it into groups with the amount of characters in the group corresponding to the length of the key (So “we need to attack soon”, would be grouped into groups of 5 when using a key like cargo, the groups would look like this “wenee dtoat tacks oon”)

Next you align the groups under the key

Here is one using the example message of “we need to attack soon”

Ok next you need to take the letters in your key and arrange them alphabetically, so cargo become acgor, now take the columns you made and shift them along with the key letters

Like this

So now that we have our letters it’s easy, we take them from left to right, top to bottom and write them out, leaving us with, “eweentdatoatkscoon” with the key of cargo, now if most people were given that they wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do

So now imagine if we added more layers, like in the ADGFX cipher

Long story short, you take a custom alphabet and replace the letters in a Polybius square with them, then replace the numbers in the square with ADGFX

There is one that I stole from Google

So you encode your message using the square and then with the result you use the columnar transposition that we discussed earlier and then you have your final encoded message, unless you want to add more bullshit to it, like idk a A1Z26 cipher, changing the letters to numbers, or maybe a binary converter, or maybe a morse encoder, actually why not all of them

And that’s where shit starts getting fun (for me anyway, where you stack the jenga tower of encoding hoping that one of the ciphers in it doesn’t need numbers or spaces which other ciphers can’t use

Oh another fun thing, a number and text where you have to convert the number to binary and use that to highlight letters which are the encoded message, or are they

And that’s why I absolutely love encoding and ciphers so much because you can create such interesting little things that can become games, or just brand new ciphers where you have to spot little patterns or grab little ideas and run with them hoping that that was the way it works

Actually one last thing before I go, my own encipherment method which I couldn’t find anywhere online, and thus gave it a name

The Eclipsed Polybius Square (EPS)

Ok so the name comes from a name I used to go by (Which was Eclispe) and then the Polybius Square

Ok so I’ve written documentation of it countless times, but I can never explain it off the top of my head, I know how it works, it’s just stored in the depths of the blob of synapses that is in my skull

Ok so first step, take your message and use a Polybius square to turn it into the numbers,

I am struggling to figure out how to write this

Here is an example which I used in an sort of puzzle hunt that I made for some friends (If you notice the name Lily there, it’s a character within the story of the puzzle hunt, game, thing)

Ok so see how some of the words are highlighted, they indicate numbers for the Polybius square

So “the” is in bold and it’s 3 letters long so we get the number 3, then “to” is in bold so we get 2, these two give us 32 which is our first letter “M”, then we have “get” which is 3, then “time” which is 4, now we have our next letter 34 which is “O”, and this continues to give us a whole word

You’re welcome to solve the rest if you want(send it to me if you do, whether that be in DMs or reblog)

Also just a note, when making the text which will hold the code, I’d recommend making the code first and then writing the text working around the code to get it in using as little words as possible, or you might end up like I did with all of the text there only giving 1 word

Actually actually, I have one last thing, thank you @rookieroc for asking, I have been dying to talk about this and so much more but I just haven’t found anyone to say it about

P.S. I will most likely add to this over time with reblogs with more information on different ciphers

#ciphers #puzzles #encryption #cryptography #god I love ciphers #again thank you @rookieroc for giving me the opportunity to share this knowledge #whadda ya mean it’s half past 2 in the morning #where tf did my time go

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roseinblue · 2 years ago

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#creative writing #group1 #12 f. bacon #entryno.5

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intuitive-spontaneity · 5 months ago

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Chicken Bacon Ranch Flatbread

Ingredients:

2 flatbreads or naan - I used this recipe for my flatbread and I flavored it with roasted garlic and shredded provolone.

1 cup garlic parmesan sauce

1 cup cooked chicken, shredded or diced (I used leftover fried chicken tenders)

4 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled

1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese

1/2 cup ranch dressing

1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes, chopped

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon fresh parsley, chopped (optional)

Salt and red pepper flakes to taste

Freshly grated parmesan cheese

Instructions:

1. **Preheat Oven:**

- Preheat your oven to 400°F (200°C).

2. **Prepare Flatbreads:**

- Place the flatbreads on a baking sheet.

- Brush the flatbreads with olive oil.

3. **Assemble Flatbreads:**

- Spread a thin layer of garlic parmesan sauce over each flatbread and add shredded mozzarella on top of that.

- Evenly distribute the chicken.

- Sprinkle the cooked and crumbled bacon over the chicken.

- Add the tomatoes.

4. **Bake:**

- Place the flatbreads in the preheated oven.

- Bake for 10-12 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and bubbly, and the edges of the flatbreads are golden brown.

5. **Finish:**

- Remove the flatbreads from the oven.

- Sprinkle with fresh parsley, if desired.

- Season with salt and red pepper flakes.

- Grate parmesan cheese on top.

#flatbread

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foundationhq · 8 months ago

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As you login to a work computer at Site-φ’s main base, you notice a new notification in your SCiPNET inbox. As the computer renders the splash image at a snail's pace, you squint at the title. The Phi-thon? It turns out to be a monthly newsletter... but what catches your eye is the announcement of a new member for THE BROKEN SCALES OF THEMIS.

𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒖

The monthly menu for March, as curated by CHEF DE CUISINE Fulgence Carême, will be available for a limited time alongside the regular menu with meat, fish, vegetarian, as well as vegan options for our staff.

BREAKFAST (6AM - 10:30 AM)

Sausage Royale Croissant Roll with cheddar cheese, beef sausage patty, two strips bacon, fried egg. Garnished with dill and parsley. With spiced ketchup to taste.

Salmon Belly Royale Croissant Roll with wild salmon, crème fraîche, spinach and collard green hollandaise, topped with ikura-style salmon roe and salmon skin cracklings.

Mushroom Royale Croissant Roll (V) with grilled portobello, cremini, and king oyster mushrooms, crispy shallots, onion jam, and a herby rosemary sauce.

LUNCH (12 PM - 5 PM)

Cheese & Leek Croquettes with yukon gold potatoes, confit pearl onions, and black garlic chips.

Soft-shell Crab Tempura Burger with deep-fried whole soft-shell crab, pickled cabbage, sorrel, arugula, iceberg lettuce, ponzu vinaigrette or parmesan mayo. Comes with old bay fries.

Heirloom Tomato Preserve Flatbread (V) with arkansas traveler, aunt ruby's german green, hillbilly, and purple calabash varieties. Comes with olive oil and balsamic vinegar dip.

DINNER (5 PM - CLOSE)

Slow-roasted Pistachio Lamb with mint and pistachio crusted lamb leg, roasted cauliflower and new potatoes, horseradish cream, and truffle-infused gravy.

Pan-seared Yuzu Scallops with hazelnuts, clementine slices, and yuzu beurre blanc sauce. Comes with a light slaw salad.

Crispy Hen-of-the-Woods Mushroom Platter (V) with a medley of grilled wild mushrooms, artichokes, asparagus, and quinoa-wild rice pilaf. Garnished with walnuts and vegan pesto.

DESSERT Fresh seasonal berries with Chai-spiced Clotted Cream with strawberries, blueberries, currants, blackberries, and gooseberries. Chai spice contains clove, cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, and ginger.

Coffee Caramel Frozen Brazo de Mercedes with blended coffee ice cream, peanuts, cashews, and warm caramel sauce.

Vegan Raspberry Coconut Mousse Parfait (V) with silken tofu, agave syrup, raspberries, and layered with vegan dark chocolate cookie crumble, and topped with roasted coconut shavings.

𝑾𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈

All personnel please be advised that there is a WEATHER WARNING in effect from 0100 to 2400 on March 29th; heavy cloud cover is expected to sock in during the early hours, accompanied shortly by freezing rain and sleet. Blizzard conditions should be in full force before 0500. Barring direct orders from Site Director Osterholz or, if applicable, MTFC 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅, any unnecessary outdoor activities should be curtailed. Remain indoors. Do not be alarmed when blinds are lowered and locked in position; this is normal procedure at Site-φ in the case of extreme weather. There is nothing to see in the snow. You are not missing out.

𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝑺𝒊𝒕𝒆-𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒆

by SECURITY CAPTAIN J. Kato

How about that forecast, Site-φ! In honor of what’s probably going to be the last blizzard of the spring (don’t hold me to that, I’m no meteorologist! :D) Site Security will be hosting a bonfire at the campground the evening of March 28th. Come get cozy before the storm hits! BYOTTB (Bring Your Own Things* To Burn). *Adhering to all regulations re: flammable substances and safe use of the communal campground, found under Hazardous Materials (Reg. F-451) and Outdoor Recreation (Regs. C-10 through -14) in the Personnel Handbook.

RSVP! →

📍 all muses are welcome to attend this open event, taking place at the on-site campground on the evening of March 28th. These threads may be written whenever you like before the act closes, so long as they are dated to that time! several bonfires will be set and maintained by site-φ security personnel from nightfall to midnight. hot chocolate and non-alcoholic cider will be available; muses are welcome to bring food and/or shredder-ready paperwork, photographs of regrets, evidence of wrongdoings, unwanted papercrafts, and disappointing research to burn. there is also an optional interactive roll for a random [𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙵𝙸𝙴𝙳] element!

𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒆'𝒔 (𝑰𝒏)𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒔𝒉

Following several hospitalizations linked to the most recent serving of Frankie’s Famous Fish last month, all waivers have been destroyed and future shipments of “fish” scratched from the order. Anyone who sees or smells “fish” should report this to Site Security. Site Administration would like to stress and remind personnel not to try Frankie’s Famous Fish at the cafeteria; do not believe the rumors the dish gives you powers if you survive. If anyone has seen Frankie, inform him that the HR Department and Director Osterholz desires a meeting. Immediately.

𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓 & 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒕 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑨𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕

The Security Department will continue to offer self-defense and weapons handling classes. Additionally, Op. 𝐷𝑌𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐸𝐷 has been ordered to conduct combat readiness assessments on all members of MTF Chi-00. When asked for comment, he replied: “That so?” and stated that they should “Be on time.” Requests for elaboration were met with a smile, precisely one nod, and what may have been a laugh. Additional, remedial seminars can be arranged with Captain Kato in advance of your assessment.

BOOK A TIME! →

𝐿𝑎𝑏 𝐴𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠

Lab spaces may still be booked through the Head of Research at Site-φ. Please let them know what you intend to research, and be advised that lab space is in slightly shorter than usual supply due to “a Newt-related incident.” Newt, who is a good dog, does not understand what this could be referring to. Neither does anyone else who was in the lab at the alleged time of the incident. Head of research insists that Newt “knows what he did.”

SUBMIT A REQUEST! →

📍 players are welcome to request a lab space for their researchers by contacting rp mgmt. please note that requesting a space as a themis member would immediately jump the line of the other scientists at the site. some themis researchers, depending on their prestige, may be given a full team of lab assistants to aid in their noble pursuit to secure, contain, and protect.

𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒃 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒏-𝑼𝒑𝒔

The Walking Club, a group of highly-intelligent pack of dogs, is looking for new members! remember — DON’T WALK ALONE. That is a formal directive, not a request. Joining the Walking Club is especially critical given the WEATHER WARNING soon to be in effect; any personnel who need to move between site buildings while the WARNING is active must contact the Walking Club. The correct way to contact the Walking Club is to step through the nearest door, close it behind you,* and whistle as loud as possible. If you are not a good whistler, that is okay! There is no such thing as a bad whistle if you put your heart into it! The Walking Club will still hear you and arrive shortly. *If Newt has chosen you as his walking buddy, you are advised to brace yourself against the door before whistling, to prevent injury.

𝑺𝒊𝒕𝒆-φ 𝑱𝒐𝒃 𝑩𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅

The following “odd jobs,” which are in no way “odd” or “unusual,” are currently available, on an as-available, non-urgent basis, personnel schedules permitting. Consider being a Site-φ neighbor and lend a hand if you can!

GROW-LIGHT GARDEN ASSISTANT posted by HEAD GARDENER S. Oz Do you appreciate site-acceptable greenery? Do you feel “well”? Do you enjoy communing with the earth, unto which our mortal flesh will someday return, if we are lucky? Join the Grow-Light Garden Staff! BRING: your own garden-ready gloves and/or knee pads. DO NOT BRING: negative energies. Seriously. Do not. For everyone's sakes. EDIT: This position has been filled.

SUPPORT ARCHIVIST posted by HEAD LIBRARIAN and ARCHIVIST Dr. W. Zai While Junior Archivist M. Leitner recovers from unwise choices as regards his seafood intake, the Site-φ archives are in need of additional hands. These hands will, ideally, be experienced in standard archival procedures. EDIT: This position has been filled.

CONTACT NOW! →

📍 players are welcome to pick up supplemental odd jobs during their time at site-φ. you can pick up an odd job by contacting rp mgmt. however, please note that these listings are first-come, first-serve, and muses may be fired from their position if they are unable to fulfill the job’s requirements (posting a monthly prompt). however, these positions may also reveal more of site-φ’s mysteries. there is also an optional interactive roll for a random [𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙵𝙸𝙴𝙳] element!

𝑫𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑶𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒛'𝒔 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕

𝑹𝑬: 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑰𝒁𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵

by DIRECTOR B. Osterholz

Good evening. It has been brought to my attention that our new additions here at Site-φ may be in need of a reminder as to the appropriateness of fraternization among personnel at this highly clandestine installation. To reiterate what was stated during onboarding and in the welcome brochure: “making eyes,” “canoodling,” and/or “partaking in the horizontal tango” with fellow staff members is not allowed at Site-φ. As you all know, the nature of our work demands absolute dedication and focus. Surely any rumors of anyone engaging in such acts on-site are, indeed, no more than crass rumors to razz the newcomers.

𝑺𝒊𝒕𝒆-φ 𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔, 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑪𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

Due to the sheer number of staff here at Site-φ, acknowledgments in the Phi-thon are through user submission. Thank you for celebrating your fellow Phi-thons.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑃ℎ𝑖-𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎… 𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑃𝑌 𝐵𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻𝐷𝐴𝑌! JUNIOR ENGINEER K. MADDOW, March 4th Happy b-day, K!!! Engi life is the best life! Couldn’t have made that particle blaster without ya! See you at Holly’s, a round on us! — Your pals at Engineering. ASSISTANT RESEARCHER C. VATYA, March 13th The Site-φ Researcher will be 50 this year. Thank you for all your hard work, encouragement, and good humor. From all of us in the 'Pataphysics Wing of Research and Development, we wish our fellow a happy birthday. WELLNESS COUNSELOR J. Oyuun, March 20th “The best gift you could possibly give me is to attend your mandatory wellness assessment. Anything more extravagant would, in fact, be inappropriate, given the nature of our strictly counselor-to-client relationship. But I also wouldn’t say no to more crayons or holographic stickers from that one place in Hōuston…”

MTF CHI-00 OPERATIVE 52 PICKUP, March 20th Happy birthday. From a secret admirer.

If you’d like to announce or contribute to our monthly newsletter, contact the Phi-thon via SCiPNET. →

📍 players are welcome to guest write or submit an in-character announcement for the monthly newsletter by contacting rp mgmt! reach out to us for more details.

Please enjoy a complimentary All You Can Brunch Buffet Ticket from us at the Phi-thon. Please note these tickets are valid for one person for one-time use. As Director Osterholz has advised in previous Phi-thon issues, ticket trading is not permitted on Site-φ.

📌 OOC GUIDELINES & HINTS!

These listings are supplemental features for enhancing your experience immersing into Site-φ’s world. Feel free to interact in any shape or form, be it directly or indirectly referencing them for open and closed starters, pager chats, self-paras... and even doing TTRPG rolls, or conversing with the NPCs 1-on-1! Based on your muse’s movements, new information, features, and subplots may be unlocked as these plot points develop. This game is responsive to you; your actions will directly affect the environment. All in all, however you wish to spend your time at Site-φ, we hope that it'll be a fun and memorable experience!

#fhq.plot #fhq.phithon #fhq.plot.1.1

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