#asian foods have been on my menu for the past two weeks.

[st4rbwrry]

made wittle dumplinssss & pho ! :)

[ladyeliot]

Fragile [2/3]

Part One

Based on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who would have thought that fate would bring you face to face with your father's killer? 13 years old, an orphan girl who was taken under the protection of the United States, who was educated to serve the nation and who was now assigned by the CIA to guard what was once one of the most dangerous men in the world.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, psychological problems, violence.

Word count: 3981

A/N: Post Endgame. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

The city of sin is empty, and so are you. There is no one around you to judge you. The rhythm of their heartbeat seems to take over your body, it seems to lure you into the darkness, into which you have already entered. You have been alone for so long that you can barely remember when you felt a caress. The lights seem to blind you as they fall on your skin through the window panes, you can't see clearly where you're going, or what your next move is going to be, but there's something that grabs you, that compels you to kiss his skin. You look into his eyes, offering yourself, inviting him to love you. You look around you, drowning in the night, but there he is, the only person who can ignite you with a caress.

The Japanese restaurant across the street from your building was the place selected for the date that Bucky had worked so hard to set you up with, but after you saw him show up on your doorstep with the most charming bouquet of orange tulips you'd ever seen in your life you didn't care where he planned to take you. The place was quite popular in the neighbourhood, so that night most of the tables were packed with diners, a fact that seemed to make your companion uncomfortable as you walked into the establishment.

"Would you rather we went somewhere else?" you asked when you saw his gaze sweep over the place.

"No, it's fine," he stepped forward, heading to a free table that was quite far away from the others.

"You know, I don't remember ever having tasted Japanese food," you said, sitting down across from him. "I guess you'll have to walk me through this."

A complicity intensified as Bucky flashed a smile, lowering his gaze in response to the comment you had just made. Your eyes lit up, creating a visual conformity as he raised his countenance again and focused his eyes on you. It was at that precise moment that you discovered that beneath the blue mantle of his iris were small greyish flecks. You had arrived in this place almost three months ago, in this Brooklyn neighbourhood full of charming Asian culture, and you had never felt more at home than you did at that moment. You knew every detail of the life of the boy sitting in front of you, every detail that the government had wanted to give you, but you realised that you didn't really know anything about him at all.

It was a long two minutes in which you spent inspecting the person in front of you. He was wearing a black denim-style jacket, a black T-shirt that seemed to match the jeans you remembered he was wearing, and of course his black leather gloves, the ones you assumed he wouldn't take off all night. You rested your elbow on the table and dropped your chin into the palm of your hand without taking your eyes off his for a second. Bucky's jaw was slightly stiff, his lips were pursed waiting for you to say something and his expression was highlighted by a frown. You held it in for a few seconds until again your mouth curved up in a smile causing laughter to erupt from within you, causing a blush to rise up Bucky's cheeks.

"What's wrong?" he asked doubtful of the cause of your smirking laughter.

"Nothing," you said sincerely, shaking your face as your laughter died down and you took the menu of dishes in your hands. "What do you recommend?"

"I don't know," he said repeating your same gesture and hiding his face behind the paper.

"I thought you were a regular," you commented ignoring the variety of dishes and put the menu down so you could look at him again. "What about the nigiris?"

"The truth is that whenever I come here it's always Yori who decides what to eat," he commented pulling the paper away from his face leaving you to stare at his uneasy countenance again.

"Wow... do you think we should call him for dinner recommendations?" you whispered making Bucky blush again as he chuckled.

"I think we can manage," he commented looking back at the list of dishes.

But really your attempt to make a varied selection of Japanese cuisine was in vain when the young waitress approached you both and you decided on a random selection based on the most curious names you had found, so that after she left you were once again alone in front of each other. You noticed that in those long weeks that you had unexpectedly coincided Bucky had never made a comment about his past, it was obvious that he took it for granted that you knew who he was, everyone seemed to know who he was.

"Can I be frank with you?" you asked, playing with the small vase in the middle of the table.

"Please," he replied, giving way to your question.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem nervous enough to have dated girls before, you know," you commented in a delicate tone avoiding scaring him away. "Is this your first date in... this long?"

Bucky's nostrils flared as he averted his gaze to the side and took a breath.

"Well... yeah, you could say that," he replied turning his focus back to you as his fingers played. "I've been trying... God, what's the name of the app?"

"Tinder?" you suggested arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, that," he nodded as his eyes widened in surprise. "It's crazy, that's not meant for me, it's like how am I going to find someone there? I don't know."

"I know," you laughed at his facial expression. "I tried it once, but I had a bad experience."

"What happened?" you inquired curiously as the waitress brought the first dishes to share along with the two beers you had ordered.

"I was supposed to meet a blond guy, curly hair, strong build, light eyes, about thirty or thirty-five, supposed to be British," you began as you took a sip of your beer. "All right, I was in the bar waiting for him to arrive, obviously we were meeting in a public place, we said to wear specific clothes so we could easily recognise each other, although I thought it was a bit absurd as I had seen pictures of him. By the time a completely different guy from the description I just gave you stood next to me, wearing a red tie and introducing himself as Matthew, I picked up and left."

"Are you sure that app is legal?" he asked when you finished telling the story.

"Sometimes I ask myself the same question too."

The atmosphere seemed to envelop you over the course of the dinner, Bucky tilting his face whenever you recounted any of your experiences, which were yours, not the character you had created to conduct your research. The comfort was so pleasant inside you that you even felt guilty on several occasions that he didn't know who you really were, a CIA agent sent to keep him under control. Even though it would have the worst consequences for you, for your career and you could never be willing to throw it all away, at least you had never been willing or thought about it until now. Although it had also been a long time since you'd felt like this.

"So...?" you arched your eyebrows with a lopsided smile, waiting for his honest answer.

"A hundred and six," he replied finishing his second beer.

"And I was complaining about the guy who showed me up on that Tinder date, because he was fifty-three," Bucky ducked his gaze somewhat nervously, as you shrugged. "You really are a fascinating guy, Bucky Barnes."

Those words were the most sincere thing you'd said since the night began, plus they brought with them a fresh batch of knowing glances between the two of you, where seconds ticked by, no one said anything and the din of laughter and surrounding conversations seemed to subside above you. You discovered that you weren't curious to find out if everything in those documents was true or not, if he really was the monster they were trying to make you believe. What really mattered to you and why you were curious about him, you wanted to find out for yourself who he really was, his experiences, his future plans, if he was lost, if he was afraid, you didn't want answers to the morbid questions they used to ask him, you wanted to know Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier.

That was the first time you had ever been on a date, with all its letters, rarely had you reached dessert before you had slept with the guy in front of you, rarely had you felt so comfortable chatting with someone, rarely had you laughed so much and stayed until the place closed.

"You're in the 21st century, do you know that women can pay for dinner and we can buy if we want to?" you said approaching the bar and taking your wallet out of your purse.

"Please," he determined almost in a plea as he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers.

"All right," you raised your arms, heading for the exit door. "I'll pay for the drinks.

As you stepped outside you could feel Bucky's eyes on you through the glass of the restaurant as he was waiting for the extra money/change. It was a pretty cold night in March, but no one really seemed to care because it seemed like everyone had gone outside to enjoy the Saturday night. You heard behind you the tinkling of a little bell and Bucky was perched next to you, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Well, where..." you started to say before a voice cut you off.

A whistling sound coming from somewhere near you tried to get your attention, but it wasn't until you looked up that you saw a tiny face peering through a window on the first floor of your building.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, tapping Bucky's chest and pointing at Yori who was waving at you.

"Oh gosh..." commented Bucky raising his hand in greeting.

"How was the date?" your neighbour asked raising his tone so he could reach you.

"Great Yori!" you exclaimed trying to let him hear you from the first floor of your building. "Bucky is such a gentleman! They don't have men like that these days!"

You didn't see it, but your companion had no idea where to put himself at that moment, his hand on the back of his neck and his uncomfortable glances around as he blushed gave him away. You raised your arm to wave goodbye to Yori who was saying goodbye as he said something, but it barely reached your ears. Bucky simply nodded showing an awkward smile on his face.

"Come on," you laughed tugging on the lapel of Bucky's jacket causing him to start walking aimlessly.

"Where are we going?" he asked walking beside you.

"I don't know," you shrugged without stopping walking. "I'll remind you that I'm just a tourist, I've been in New York for three months and I've barely left the neighbourhood. But I think you know it a lot better than I do," you bumped his body with yours in a friendly way.

"I don't agree. You may be a tourist in New York, but I'm a tourist in the 21st century world," he commented, hitting you back with his elbow.

"In that case... let's discover New York together," you smiled, and he smiled back, letting you know that he was enjoying the evening as much as you were.

"There," your companion raised his chin, gesturing slightly towards the narrow building looming above you.

"There?" you asked, arching your eyebrows in surprise at what he was telling you.

"Fourth floor," he continued speaking without looking at you, resting his eyes on the place he was describing. "It was a tiny flat, I could get from the kitchen to the bedroom by just jumping up and down. If I opened the window at night, the smell of mozzarella from Nicollini's came in. It was an Italian restaurant," he paused thoughtfully, perhaps wistfully. "Wow... I didn't come here until now."

You stood parallel to Bucky, his eyes seemed to appear brighter than usual, the light from the streetlight allowing you to take in every feature of his face. You were silent for a couple of minutes while he seemed to be distant from the place, obscured in his thoughts, in his past. The time you had spent with him had not allowed you to see him like this at any time, he used to keep his emotions very much in check, not allowing anyone to glimpse them, only letting you see the shame or confusion when he spoke to you.

"So... when was the last time you were here?" your volume was soft, trying not to interrupt him too much, but upon hearing your voice, he fell into your presence and began to pace.

"Maybe... in 1943, just before I left for Europe," he cleared his throat, undoing the knot that had formed in his throat.

It was in that precious moment that you realised how hard and complex his situation must really be. Bucky Barnes was all alone in the world, all his knowledge of his old present was of little use to him now, it might be the city where he grew up but nothing was the same anymore. He also had to live with his legacy, the legacy HYDRA left him. Silence flooded around you, however, it was not a complicit silence, it was an uncomfortable silence, caused by the situation you had just lived.

"My father died when I was thirteen," you didn't know why, but that confession came from inside you, Bucky turned his face and focused his attention on you. "My mother had abandoned us when I was five, so when my father died I was all alone."

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered making you realise he was really sorry when you looked at his face.

"It happens," you shrugged. "I guess that makes us feel luckier when we find someone we connect with."

That was the first time you looked away blushing as you met Bucky's smile, but he kept his eyes fixed on you. The two of you had made your way to an aimless spot, letting the night fall on you by the riverbank.

"Answer me something, when was the last time you enjoyed the New York night?" you said looking at him, as behind him you could see a wonderful view of the island of Manhattan.

"New York night..." he said looking down thoughtfully. "Well, I remember the last night I spent in New York, my best friend Steve and I went to see The Stark exhibit along with two girls," he turned his gaze to the horizon, "Connie and Bonnie, I think their names were."

"Your girlfriends?" you asked curiously delving into the story.

"Not exactly," he laughed looking at you, "it was like a double date, but they weren't our partners. Those times were more complicated, you know," you nodded and waited silently for him to continue the story. "I had planned for the four of us to go dancing, but Steve was not very receptive, he had other things on his mind, so I ended up going dancing with the two of them by myself.

"Wow, what do you know..." you arched an eyebrow causing Bucky to blush with laughter, gazing at the lights coming from Manhattan. "That means you're quite the expert dancer."

"Not exactly, I mean, maybe in... in the past, it's possible, but..." he didn't know how to express himself, his words were hindering him.

"Show me," you interrupted taking him by surprise.

"Uh?" he asked stopping his steps and frowning.

"Come on, it's time for me to be the one to get out of your time. I have no idea how to dance..." you pointed out, making him understand that you didn't know how to dance in a couple. "Please."

Your companion took a breath as you presented him with the palm of your hand inviting him to take it right in the middle of a small riverside park. Bucky was hesitant but your lower lip bitten by your teeth and your pleading eyes made him definitely decide to hold your hand and accept the challenge. The triumph was depicted on your face, which made it easy for Bucky to oblige by flashing you a smile.

"You're really testing me tonight," he murmured, slowly approaching you.

You first felt the roughness of his leather gloves as his left hand took yours to mark a closer position. Your bodies were close, too close, you could hear his raised breathing and see the mist of your breath connecting. Bucky gently placed his hand on your waist, but nothing else happened, you looked at each other, with a very uncomfortable smile.

"This is weird," he muttered, wrinkling the expression on his face.

"Why?" you looked around you, it was lonely. "There's no one."

"I know," he looked up. "There's no one, there's no music."

"Sing," you said quickly with a laugh, making Bucky laugh too as he shook his head. "I would, but I don't know any songs of the time."

"I don't plan to sing," he decreed without barely moving an inch away from you.

"Then use your imagination," you whispered lowering your gaze for a second, meeting his neck at eye level.

As if time had rushed backwards you were caught in a completely different place, the yellowish light of the street lamps above you and behind you a Manhattan skyline set the perfect mood for the moment. The hand that was perched on your waist began to subtly exert pressure, guiding you to imitate the movement of his feet that he had begun. Embarrassed by your clumsiness you quickly lowered your gaze to his feet to try to imitate what he was doing more accurately.

"Look at me, don't look at my feet," he sentenced with a small laugh. "Look at my eyes."

And you did, so much so that you did, letting yourself be enveloped by their blue, making you blush because of the proximity to them. It was strange, perhaps it was much stranger to you than it was to him, as you bit your lower lip hard trying to escape the awkwardness and embarrassment. How could a moment that could look completely ridiculous from the outside feel so intimate on the inside?

"When was the last time you danced with a girl?" you whispered, trying to keep the situation not too intimate.

"I think it was in London," he replied without stopping his movements. "When I was on leave."

But as he finished his answer you again found yourself under those piercing blue eyes trying to maintain eye contact with you. Again you caught your lower lip between your teeth, thinking of a new question to ask him. Bucky had taken control of the situation, something you weren't used to, and that made you feel alert, he knew it, for the first time he seemed to be in control of the situation, and that was your fault, you had given it to him when you said to teach you to dance.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in front of you with a half smile to which you nodded forcing a smile.

Just as you finished your nod you felt Bucky press harder against your waist and pressed his body against yours leaving your forehead pressed against his cheek. His scent wafted into your nostrils, drifting into your brain, projecting a pleasure that made you close your eyes and let yourself be completely carried away. You accepted that you wouldn't last an hour in the 40s in a dance hall, the second you'd fall at the feet of any young man like Bucky. You didn't know if it was your imagination, because right now you had entered an alternate universe, or if Bucky was humming some tune, but you heard it, you heard how your subtle movements had music.

"And..." you parted your lips, pulling your forehead away from his cheek, trying to formulate a question that didn't come because you felt the melody stop, realising that it was Bucky who was asking it.

His face with a sweet smile on it paralysed you, making you come out of the bubble that had been created around you, feeling guilty for the situation that you yourself had provoked. What the hell were you doing? He was your mission, everything was getting out of context, it had gotten completely out of hand and you needed to stop it as soon as possible. You shook your face, trying not to be too rude to him, and you broke the proximity between the two of you. Bucky didn't understand what had happened, because within a second the happiness was wiped from his face, showing some concern for your actions.

"I'm sorry," he said, raising his hands subtly by way of caution. "If I've done anything inappropriate..."

"No!" you exclaimed shaking your head smiling at his apology. "It's just... I think we should get back, we still have a long way to go and I wanted to get up early tomorrow."

"Of course," the disappointment you saw on Bucky's face almost broke your soul.

The walk home was too stealthy, and that made you uneasy. You couldn't stop replaying over and over the moment in your mind, the feel of his hand on your waist, the proximity to his body, your scent, and the warmth of your forehead against his cheek. It was torture, because on the other hand you felt extremely guilty for violating all the clauses of your job by entering into this kind of relationship with Bucky. It was suffocating, you felt almost breathless inside. Firstly, you should have started by refusing the proposal to go out for dinner, and secondly, if you did go out for dinner, you should have gone straight home, no dancing and no further conversation. In the midst of all these thoughts, you arrived home.

"Please," he said, offering you first the way into the building.

"Thank you," you mumbled without looking at him.

The walk to the third floor began, you had never realised that there were so many steps and so steep until you reached the door of your house, it seemed like a climb up Mount Everest and the worst thing was that Bucky lived right in front of you, on the same landing. You amused yourself rummaging through your purse for your house keys, avoiding having a conversation until you arrived right in front of the door.

"Well..." you started to say by way of an awkward goodbye.

"Again, if I've done anything to upset you..." Bucky repeated again with a gesture of concern.

"Really, Bucky, it's been... great," you concluded, smiling kindly at him. "I promise."

"All right," he ducked his face, not entirely convinced by your answer. "So, good night Susan."

"G-good night Bucky."

Susan? Of course, that was you to him, all a lie.

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[mskimkaty]

Quit | J.JH

Angst, Smut, fluff (little bit on the end)

Synopsis: You might think that some people who did you bad have little impact in your life, tip toeing from situations that you knew could repeat the same mistakes but there will always be that one person who will destroy all your resolve and you’ll find yourself fucking your rules for them.

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: love u all. pls enjoy! (not really proof read)

Edit: uhmmm pls don’t judge me but this is actually my bf and my story of how we met to how we become couples. Alright. Enjoy!!!!

You hated how you didn’t take “searching for college schools” seriously, and now, you’re all but stuck for the rest of your college years in the same school you graduated from High school. You know it’s a good school, having to be in the top 7 elite schools all over the country that has an institution that offers all levels of education— but you honestly don’t care about that right now. You wished you didn’t choose the easy road in finding a good college because now you’re stuck with a university that has zero-base for their grading system, 75 marks as their passing grade, and put their students with fully loaded units— having up to 30 units per semester. How Asian can it get?

 Fourth-year high school wasn’t your year, when a particular boy, Jeon Jungkook broke your heart. He was a close friend first before he became someone more than that, you told yourself not to be involved with the likes of him in any way, you first meet during your junior year by a mutual friend—Joy, your best friend, was in the same class as him, thus, the reason the both of you became close.

 Joy warned you about him and you knew because that’s what you told her base on your first impression on Jungkook, but you still tested the waters. And that’s how you broke your heart for the first time, you let yourself trust him despite all the bad things that you heard about him, you ignore everything because you were happy around him, but you were tired of having a relationship without a label and the fact that he doesn’t want you to be seen together speaks so much. You went on a retreat for 3 days in your senior year as it was a requirement for every graduating students by your catholic school, you weren’t going steady per se, but you still talked nonetheless, as he was getting busy with basketball, and you, having the cheerleading competition around the corner, training, exams, and graduation. You both have so much on your own plates.

 You kept on seeing red flags— the way he’s not responding to your calls and messages for a week, you haven’t really seen him around the school as varsity players have their own retreat, and when you saw a photo posted in his Instagram account with a girl in your year. She was a transferee, that’s all you remember after receiving a text message of him saying sorry. You hated how forgiving you can be, you hoped you can be tough and talk back to him— but no, you never had the chance to say what you wanted to say to him. You just let everything go. You can’t even ask someone to comfort you because of the fact you were a secret. You didn’t even know why you agreed with that kind of set up in the first place. Why did you choose something temporarily for a piece of mind? You hated how easy you can get sometimes, but you closed that chapter in your life after cursing him for months in your head and some Friday night parties until you graduated High school.

 And now, you’re in your second year of college and very much single. You received a message from Seulgi, saying that she needs to cancel your plans from eating out because of a midterm exam that got rescheduled she was your best friend together with Joy, Irene, and Wendy since high school but college happened and the five of you went with different schools except for Wendy and Seulgi who enrolled at the same University. You have a heavy sigh, it’s not that you don’t have friends in your own department, you do. It’s just that all your girlfriends have classes and won’t be done until 3 in the afternoon— and you’re very much hungry.

 You saw a very familiar face exiting the lesson hall next to yours and you’re quick on your feet to hide behind the walls of your classroom.

 “Y/n, I’ve already seen you, you know.” Suh Johnny stands beside you with Ten beside him smiling at you, you three both did your handshakes after getting drag out of the room. “Have you eaten already?” Ten asks and you shook your head. Johnny put his arms around your shoulders and the three of you walked out of the campus to eat out.

 “Oppa, what’s that?” you asked Ten preferring to his phone when you all settled down while Johnny browses the menu on what to order. “Jaehyun asked if he can join.” He says to the both of you, you look at Johnny as you both shrugs. Jung Jaehyun was once an IT student, he shifted after a year into your department and incredibly smart in mathematics. He was instantly everyone’s friend in your year.

 “I’m cool with him,” Johnny says and they both look at you. You’re not really fond of everybody and not entirely friendly with everyone. You’ve been close with Johnny and Ten who were much older than you only because you knew them since High school. “It’s cool.” You muttered.

 “But you wouldn’t be comfortable around other people, though.” Ten commented. They were completely aware of your introverted ass. They know what happened to you during your fourth-year high school, not only with Jeon Jungkook but the fact that all of your female classmates during your senior year made you an outcast. You honestly find it funny now, since you know that you have four amazing friends who stuck with you through thick and thin. You wished you had taken up the opportunity when Seulgi asked you to join her for hunting college schools before graduating High school so that you can be with her throughout your college years, but what’s done is done, what happened to you in the past brought you here right now and made you who you are. It wasn’t a problem for you— you like having the quality over quantity. You like how your circle of friends isn’t that big, too many people in your life can cost you too much trouble in the end, you know that because you’ve already experienced it first hand, having many people in your life will only lead you to disappointments.

 You weren’t familiar with Jung Jaehyun, per se, you just had a class with him during the second semester of your first year of college, that one professor you disliked so much teaching algebra instead of business mathematics and had the audacity to fail you. You hated how you got a failed mark while Jaehyun passed the subject despite his absences, you acknowledge him for having a big brain when it comes to numbers but you still find it unfair how he passed and you failed, you wished you could be as smart as him. You first met him when Mark introduced you to him after your Psychology class, you were talking with Mark about your Final output for the subject when he came up to Mark— fist-bumping, while wearing a white hoodie and black jeans, had those big Nike bags that you knew Basketball players uses, his white sneakers clean and you look at yours— completely worn out and definitely needed a new pair.

 He was smiling at you, eyeing Mark while waiting to be introduced to you. That got you rolling your eyes at him unknowingly, making him slightly intimidated with you. You shot Jaehyun a fake smile— he was cute, charming, tall, and obviously another varsity player. God, your skin starts to crawl, another varsity player is being too friendly with you. You bid Mark goodbye, and that was the start of your acquaintances with Jung Jaehyun, he was everywhere, becoming the Mr. Congeniality of your Department in no time when he shifted after a year in Information Technology.

 The three of you waited for Jaehyun to arrive before ordering your lunch, you waited for another minute before the door opened and Jaehyun walked in wearing a black long tee and denim jeans paired with his clean white sneakers. He settled down beside Ten who was in front of you and you started to become uncomfortable. Johnny and Jaehyun decided to get your orders and you were left with Ten in your booth.

 “Y/N, Jaehyun’s a good guy, you already know him for half a year, why are you still uncomfortable around him?” Ten asks you as you heave a heavy sigh. It’s not that you're uncomfortable around him because of your trust issues, you’re uncomfortable because clearly, he’s your type, and you’re not comfortable with the idea of it, you know he already had a girlfriend, you saw his wallpaper for a second when he put it down on the table before locking it. “I’m not. It’s just that—Oppa, can’t I be shy around people?” you countered, Ten looked at you funnily. “Don’t kid with me, y/n- ah. You guys both have International Cuisine, right?” he asks and you nod. “Then, you’ll be around him more often from now on, loosen up, He’s a great guy, if he did something to you, just tell me and Johnny and we’ll take care of it for you.” he flashed you a smile and you brush it off while giggling at him. “Thanks, Oppa, but no thanks.” You say and the two came back with two trays full of food. “It’s on me.” Johnny settled down next to you and you shoot him a grateful smile as the four of you started digging.

 “Are you throwing a party for your birthday?” Johnny suddenly asked, you nod at him and he muttered a small okay while your eyes darted at Jaehyun— it would be totally rude not to invite him for your birthday party when the topic is already laid on the table. Plus, he was looking at the three of you intently, seemingly out of place with the subject of the conversation. “Jaehyun, you should come on my birthday, It’s on the 19th, just some drinks and food on me, nothing too grand.” You find yourself saying and Ten and Johnny were shocked that you invited him. you clear your throat and continued “Can you guys ask everyone? I haven’t seen Yuta, Jungwoo, and Taeil Oppa but I already asked a bunch of people.” You added. They all agreed. “Thanks for inviting me, I think I don’t have anything going on that day,” Jaehyun commented. “Sounds like a plan.” You say and the four of you continued digging in.

 That night on your birthday, everything made a 360-degree turn in your life. Having 23 boys in your flat and some of your girlfriends turn out to be so much fun. When you run out of drinks you find yourself on Jaehyun’s passenger seat as the two of you drive to the nearest store to purchase some alcohol— You and Jaehyun seem like the only person sober enough to walk and drive your way outside the comforts of your home. You felt really comfortable around him, he hasn’t made a move on you or anything, and you think that maybe it’s because he already had a girlfriend and is faithful to their relationship.

 “Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend with you?” you asked just to start a conversation. “You knew?” he asked you while throwing you side glances, you nod your head yes. “It’s kind of complicated, plus, we're not official.” He continued which made you shocked, he was being open with you shockingly. “What? Why?” for some reason, it made you really curious. He gives you a heartily chuckle “It’s complicated.” You only nod.

 When you came back to your flat, you and Jaehyun were left to sit together, Mark and Haechan were completely out of it, while Joy and Irene are having a conversation with Jisung and Chenle. It’s nice to see them conversing with each other. Johnny was busy preparing the drinks with Yuta, Taeyong, and Seulgi, while the others are setting up the karaoke on your flat screen Tv hanged on your living room’s wall.

 You thought that was the last time you’ll see Jung Jaehyun, or you thought that was the last time you’ll be together in the same room as well as be at the same table together. You forgot that you both have classes together, that you’re practically in the same department, you honestly forgot that you’re both in the same circle of friends.

 You’ve been closer with the guys as time goes by, they were nothing like the people from your High school, they were honestly cool to be with, it just that, they like to unwind sometimes, and that “sometimes” means every Friday of the week, unwinding with drinks and such. This time, Jaehyun was the host, and Jungwoo together with Taeil managed to dragged and convinced you out of girlfriend nights. You have been hanging out with them more than usual and you were getting closer with Jaehyun, particularly, you keep on looking for him at gatherings and he kept on looking out for you. There was an unspoken mutual understanding between the two of you, you know it was wrong, even if you find yourself giddy and happy when he messages you or when he calls you before you go to bed when the two of you meet in between subjects just to eat together. You knew you were repeating the same mistakes as you did with Jungkook, and you can’t help but fuck yourself because everything is wrong at the same time feels right. How screwed can you get? Why do you always choose temporary happiness over a peace of mind?

 That night, when most of the guys left to go home and some of them left to smoke outside, you find yourself alone with Jaehyun in his living room. You poured him and yourself a shot, the guys were surely taking their time outside. “One-shot.” You tell him and you both down the tequila in seconds, hissing at the taste burning your throats. You stared at him, thinking that you have to start distancing yourself from him, you don’t want to ruin what he had with his girl. Your stomach turns just by thinking about the possibilities of ruining someone else’s relationship. You were better than that.

 You move your gaze away from him, you were about to pour another shot when you felt Jaehyun’s warm hand on your neck pulling you closer. You felt his warm lips on yours, it was sweet and warm, burning you within, but the taste was anything but sweet— you tasted the tequila out of his lips as he licks your bottom lip that got you responding to him, you closed your eyes and find yourself fucking your boundaries for him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer by the waist, rubbing small circles on your skin. You break the kiss as you put your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. He was about to kiss you again when you move your face away from him, trying to put some distance away from him. “Did I do something wrong?” you heard him saying. You wipe the smudged lipstick on your skin below your lips as you face him. “Jaehyun, you’re not completely single.” You said. “But I’m not in a relationship either, I told you months ago, it was complicated.” He sits beside you properly, a hand clamped together as you look at him.

 “Jaehyun, this is non-negotiable. I don’t want to ruin someone’s relationship.” You say, and Johnny walks in. you poured yours and Jaehyun’s shot glass clicking with his before downing it in one go. If Johnny felt the thick air between the two of you, he doesn’t comment on it.

 You choose to forget what happened when all of the guys started walking back inside. Started conversing with Johnny about this student in your department that got kicked out of the university because of some issues. You got your self a couple of drinks before standing up to head to the bathroom, but since it was your first time at Jaehyun’s house you ask him where it was, plus Lucas was incredibly taking his time in the bathroom so Jaehyun leads you to his room instead. “Just use mine, Lucas is taking forever.” He said. You nod and head for the bathroom in his room. His room was surprisingly clean and very much boyish in your opinion, the walls are painted blue, his bed covers are white and was neatly done, the cabinets are on the side while a bunch of basketball trophies is beside his computer.

 When you were done with his bathroom, you find him sitting at the end of his bed, browsing his phone while waiting for you. “I thought you already went down,” you said. Jaehyun looks up at you. “Can I look at your trophies?” you asked him and as he walks to you and standing beside you to look at his achievements during his High school days.

 “Wait, you went to Santa Clara?” you asked him. “So, you know, Jeon Jungkook?” you asked shocked at the information when he said as small “Yes. Why?”

 You shook your head and muttered nothing. “We went with some tune-up games in the past, but I know him, he and his group keep on hitting on our cheerleaders it was kind of funny.” He says to you and you laughed. “What’s new, but— wow, what a small world.” “Oh, that’s right he graduated from St. Vincent, right?” you turn your head at him and you see Jaehyun looking at you while waiting for your answer, you only nodded your head, not having the gusto to talk about Jeon Jungkook at the moment. You felt Jaehyun’s hands circling around your wrist, turning your body against him making you look up to him.

 You were completely drawn to him, from the way he pulls you closer by the waist, the way he lifts your head as he put his other hand to your face, he has you completely wrapped around his fingers. You felt his lips doing wonders to you and this time you let him kiss you. You find yourself wrapped around him for the second time. “Jaehyun—”

 “Hmm.” You felt him deepened the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, hips to hips pressed together and you hated how right it felt. “We need to go down.” you tried to push him away but he won't budge. Jaehyun, slips his thumb just above the exposed skin on your hips, rubbing small circles that got you moaning “If you haven’t noticed, I’m actually crazy for you right now.” He says under his breath and you felt warm all over. Jaehyun has his brows furrowed, his expression as if he was hurting all over the place, and you laugh at him. “Fine, I’ll spend the night here.” You hear yourself saying and Jaehyun only pulled you closer for a hug.

 When the night ended, Jaehyun tells the guys that he’ll be the one to give you a ride and no one suspects it— agreeing to him and biding the two of you goodbye while the two of you cleaned up the living room. Moments after, you find yourself having second thoughts about staying the night with him. You know this will only lead to you on Jung Jaehyun’s bed. “Do you want to go home?” he asks you as if reading your mind, and you shook your head. “But can we go grab some late snacks? I’m kind of hungry.”

 The both of you drove to McDonald's and ordered some take-outs, Jaehyun drove to a good spot and parked his car, handing you your orders after putting on some good music— fit for the atmosphere. “Ohhh, this is actually good, huh.” You say while smiling at him. Jaehyun put your drinks in the cupholder between the both of you and handed you some tissues after. The warm feelings are back and you hate to admit that he gives you butterflies in your stomach.

 “I mean, this could be our thing, y/m.”

 You didn’t comment on that. Digging into your burger as a distraction to the strange sensation that you kept on feeling. You were quietly eating your food while having mixed feelings about him. you know this familiar feeling— you’re not stupid enough not to know your catching feelings and that you’re starting to fall in love again.

 When you finished up, you turn your body towards Jaehyun, deciding to confess, it’s better to be turned down than to keep on catching feelings for someone who isn’t going to return it at all. It’s not like you to be so brave, in the past, you always wait and that was the problem. You wait until the opportunity slides away from your fingers— from you. Deciding to risk everything this time, you braced yourself for the rejection.

 “Jaehyun.” You started and he turns his head towards you. “You know, I like you, right?” you continued. “You’re not stupid and you know there is something going on with the both of us.” Silence feels inside his car to the point it got so thick you can even cut it with a knife. “I may sound like a bitch but you have to choose between me and her.”

 “Remember when I told you on your birthday that my relationship with her is complicated?” you nodded your head. “I wasn’t lying about it. We’ve known each other for a while and it’s been eight months that time when I wanted to take our relationship to another level.” Hearing him talk about some other girl and the fact he wanted to make their relationship official hurts you in so many ways possible. You find yourself nodding at him as you ignore the lump in your throat. “But she won’t even admit that she likes me, not even one “Thank you” for all the effort I’ve given her, I understand that saying she loves me is a different level, it’s an understatement, but you know, I’m just someone who also needed affections. I don’t understand her for being so high maintenance.”

 “I actually talked with her personally this morning.” He continued. “Was that the reason why you’re absent?” you asked mad over the fact that he was absent for some uncalled reason. “Okay, let me finish before you get mad at me, baby.” You hate how endearing that sounded but you let him talk anyways. “I told her, I was done waiting and that I was sorry that I didn’t keep my promise.”

 “You actually courted her?” you asked and he nods. “Yeah, she is high maintenance and stupid.”

 “And you know what she replied? She says that she’ll say yes to me if that will make me stay or shut my trap, even, you know how the thought of actually agreeing to that one person to be together was gone just for the benefit of the doubt? She should have said yes from the beginning, I don’t have issues with waiting, I waited for almost a year, I know I can do it again, but not like this.” He moves his hands in the air just to set his point. “Was it my fault that I fell out of love?” He asks you and you turn your head away from him, guilty with the fact you are the reason he fell out of love with her. “Y/n, just give me time, I don’t even need that much.” He says and you nod your head.

 When both of you got back to Jaehyun’s flat, it was already midnight, Jaehyun handed you his white clean shirt and boxer shorts to change in to. Giving you some privacy that you needed while he brushes his teeth downstairs. So many things have been running through your mind for the past hour, Jaehyun didn’t turn you down but he didn’t say that he likes you back, either. So where do you stand in his life? You should have gone home; you didn’t want the same mistakes you did in the past to be repeated, but you were tired of waiting and beating around the bush.

 Confessing to Jung Jaehyun that you liked him first made you feel naked around him, having your feelings out in the open. When Jaehyun walked in you were still dazed, thousand of thoughts running through your mind. This wasn’t the first time that you’ve to spend the night with him having sleepovers at Johnny��s or the others but this was definitely your first time spending the night with him.

 It wasn’t an issue for you to sleep beside him since you already confessed, anyway. And in no time, you slip off to dreamland instantly, shocked at how comfortable you are with having his arms around you as you drifted off to dreamland.

 You stir in your sleep when you felt Jaehyun’s hands all over your upper body as he peppers your neck with wet kisses. you fight the sleepiness and look at his nightstand to see that it’s only been two hours when you drifted off to sleep. “Jae, It’s only three in the morning. Can’t you do this later?” you asked as you fight the sleep in your eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s hands hover around your left mound, squeezing it slightly and you look at him fully. “You agree on doing this later?” he asks out of breath.

 “You expect me to fall asleep when you’re on my bed in my clothes?” he whispered in your ear and you moan when his fingers slip in your undies— rubbing circles in your clit. “Already this wet?” Jaehyun continued his ministration on you, adding another finger inside you while he kisses you on the lips. You felt him retract his fingers away and you were about to protest when you felt him lift your shirt just below your chin, your mounds completely in view and ready to be played with. His hands went back on your thighs as he separated your left leg from the other, urging you to open your legs more. His fingers are back on your clit, drawing small circles that made you clenching on nothing. Jaehyun frowned when he felt your walls incredibly tight when he inserted two fingers at a time. “Baby, so fucking tight.”

 Jaehyun throws his shirt over his head and helped you undress, completely impatient, and you tried palming him just to get a reaction. You heard him grunt lowly, shocked at how big he is when Jaehyun got rid of all the clothing. “That won’t fit on me.”

 “Where’s your casual bravado at?” he asks as he pulls you to his lap. You look anywhere but him as your cheeks started to flush. “Don’t tell me— are you a virgin?” you nod your head at him as you felt his cock stood out more to the revelation. “Fuck, well take it slow, baby.” Jaehyun guided you to his lap as you ride him, moving your hips as you coat his dick with your juices. You have your bottom lip trap between your teeth as you let his dick slide in your pussy’s lips. Feeling embarrassed but desperate you tried to push yourself back to meet his hips as you whine with the newfound sensations. You look so lewd above him riding his cock as your tits bounce from your movements, your eyes start to water from the thrill Jaehyun gives you. “I need to hear you.” Jaehyun pushes the messy strands of hair that frames your face.

 You moan at the feeling of his veiny cock sliding in between your pussy’s lips. He hums, pleased with your sounds around him, and rewards you by inserting his fingers all the way inside you, the numbers doing wonders and stinging you a bit, but it still felt better than having to clench at nothing. Jaehyun marks you up all over your neck and just above your mounds, flesh to flesh as you moan for him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you as you ride his cock continuously. He gathers you in his arms and lays you on your back, pulling your thighs against your chest, keeping your legs spread as he pushes inside you slowly, grunting. “I wasn’t planning on putting it inside, but you just feel so fucking good.”

 You cried at the stretch, slowly tearing you apart as he moves inch by inch just to be inside you fully. When he’s all the way inside of you, his breath leaves him in a shaky sigh, and he takes a couple of moments for the both of you before he started moving. You know Jaehyun was holding back, as he focusses on your breast as they bounce up and down in a humiliating manner as he pushes into you slowly for his liking, while his hands keep your legs spread wide for him, you felt embarrassed and humiliated with the way you’re positioned under him, but you can’t help every moan that escapes you as it started to feel amazing more than a while ago. The sting you felt was gone and all you can think is the pleasure that he gives you.

 “Fuck, you’re tightening up.” You turn your head to the side, trying to bury your face in the pillows around you as you hide your face from him, but Jaehyun doesn’t allow it, he bends down— his upper body draped over you, his face mere inched from yours, the new positions has his right hand pulling your right leg further upwards, thigh pressing harder against your chest. “Say it, baby. I need to hear you.” His gaze pierces through you, ordering more than asking you to obey him, and you find him looking sexier as he looks even as his skin glistens and how some strands of his hair started to stick over his forehead.

 Docilely and submissive, you answered him. “I- I want to cum, please.” You sounded so lewd; you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. His gaze doesn’t free yours as his hips started to pick up the pace. “Do you know how hot you look right now? Spread out on my bed with nothing but my cock in you? fuck, fuck.” You started clenching around him as he put his thumb on your clit, drawing circles as you cry out his name in ecstasy.

 He fucks you through your orgasm, grunting as your walls get even tighter, making it harder for him to keep on moving inside of you but that made him ravish you more with fervor. Your orgasm feels like it will never end as he drags it out in order to reach his own high, finally, his hips stutter as he pulls out of you and pumps his dick more as he comes in your stomach and breasts.

 When he was done, he moves away from you and walks to the bathroom, you heard the faucet running and Jaehyun came out with a wet, warm towel in his hands and uses it to clean up the mess the two of you made. When he’s done, he tosses it to the side and scoops you in his arms, covering both of your naked bodies with his blanket that smells like him. He had you trap in his arms and sure it felt good to be treated like this, the feeling new to you.

 “Sleep, let’s not think about what happened for now.” He murmured and you agree. “I’m sorry.” You heard him say. You look up at him and see different emotions flickers in his eyes. “Honestly, I’ve seen this coming, I’m not usually like this but I always find myself fucking my rules just to be with you.” Jaehyun pulls you closer to him. “That’s because you liked me.” He told you before you drifted off to sleep for the second time.

 The next morning, Jaehyun give you a ride home, you— being awfully quiet after realizing everything that happened when you saw the bloodstains in his bedsheets that morning. You didn’t utter a word throughout the ride, reality downing to you one by one. Did you just sleep with a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend in the first place? When you got in the comforts of your home you smack your head for the stupidity. You knew how boys can be, and you just give Jaehyun the chance to have his way with you easily without a fight.

 When a day passed by without seeing even a shadow of Jaehyun, you sent him a message asking what was he doing. You waited for hours but you didn’t get a reply from him that day. You’ve been overthinking things and didn’t have the energy to be productive at all, you tried calling him but he wasn’t answering at all. The next day came and you checked your phone for any notification from him but there was none, you were about to get up when you heard a car honking in front of your house— you walk towards your window and there, you saw Jung Jaehyun, standing beside his car in your front yard, smiling up at you with his hands tucked inside his jean’s pockets. You ignore the raging butterflies in your stomach and hide the blush creeping in your cheeks with your hair as you give him a bashful smile in return.

 When you came down after washing up and getting ready for school, you kissed your mom goodbye saying you’re skipping breakfast and will just eat out in the café next to the University. You run to Jaehyun, his arms open and ready to catch you in his arms— and you embrace him. “Haven’t heard from you yesterday.” You push your self a little away from him to see a smile playing at his lips. “I miss you too.” He answered and for some reason, cat got your tongue.

 “It’s still early, do you want to eat out?” Jaehyun asked you when you both settle down inside his car and you nod your head after checking your wristwatch, you still have two hours to kill before your classes start, it’s Tuesday, so the both of you are packed up with your chef’s uniforms in your bags.

 “I hate cooking.” You tell no one in particular as Jaehyun started to drive away, “But you’re the top in our department.” you only give him a glance as you relax your body.

 When you arrived at the café next to your University, it was still spacious as it was still early, most of the time students would fill the room up, studying or just talking with their peers. You both settle down on the booth next to the window— Jaehyun, ever the gentlemen ordering and buying you your food. “Jaehyun, I really appreciate you spending your money on me, but next time let me pay for my own food.” You say when he came back with a tray of pastries and coffees in his hands. “Why?” he asked.

 “Because it’s your money, and we’re still students you know, we shouldn’t spend recklessly.” Jaehyun was bewildered by what you said and it was clearly written on his face. “Why?” you asked scared that you might say something wrong. “It’s just that, I was used to spending money for her even if I get to eat nothing as long as she gets hers.” He says. You felt horrified after hearing that. “No way, if you ran out of money, you say it and I’m going to pay for us, all right?”

“You sure you haven’t been in relationships?” there was a bashful smile playing at Jaehyun’s face, “No, it’s called basic manners, Jung Jaehyun.” You laughed at him. “So, I haven’t heard from you at all yesterday.” You watched as Jaehyun sipped at his iced americano— nodding at you as if you’ve stated the obvious.

“I ended everything with her, what she said doesn’t really sit on me right. I didn’t take her to be that hypocrite in the first place.” Jaehyun started. So, he was with her last night, you think, but not in the way that you think, he meets with her to cut and finish everything between them. “I just hate that every time we fought, she would always turn the tables around, guilt tripping me so I can admit that I’m wrong when she also has her mistakes in the first place. Don’t think that this happened because of you, it started happening before you even came, I don’t want you to beat yourself thinking that you ruined my relationship with her, because in the first place there’s no relationship between us.” You nod your head and all you can do is listen.

“Do you regret everything that has been happening?” you asked as you hear your heart beating rapidly inside your chest, you look at him and he did the same. “No. You happened unexpectedly, but no, I don’t regret you.” you fought the tears away, feeling the warmth and comfort inside, this has never happened to you, someone choosing you over anything, and you can’t help but tear up.

“Why are you crying? It’s not me who’s choosing you but you’re the one who is choosing me. If you haven’t noticed a lot of guys wants to be with you, so I’m really grateful that you liked me instead.” Jaehyun wiped the tears that threatening to fall down your check and pulling you close in his arms after. You put your head in his arms, everything feels surreal and if ever you are dreaming you don’t want to wake up anymore. “I really like you,Y/n.” you look up to him laughing as you cry harder, all this baggage and walls gone because of one person.  

That was the start of your relationship with Jung Jaehyun, all those crazy days and nights with him, long drives and Friday nights, eating and pigging out with him, he knows you more than the back of his hands, he knows that you get moody every month, he knew about your introverted ass, he knows that you can be basic and simple at times— you don’t expect too much of him and he does the same with you, on your first year of being together, you introduced Jaehyun to your whole family on your reunion day and they instantly love him— specially your brother and cousins. They enjoyed talking to him, and you’re honestly surprised at how welcoming you parents are to him, asking him to sleep over, Jaehyun and your brother having the same interest, playing computer games until the sun rises, His mother sending a box full of apples to your mother because he mentions that it’s your mom’s favorite.

Sometimes you get scared of breaking up with him, fighting isn’t something that the both of you can avoid, there are times the you just want to strangle him to death, but that makes everything real, being jealous and having make up sex, all those time the both of you fight for something trivial, those moments make your relationship stronger. And now you’ve been with him for the past 4 years, going steady and strong.  

“Babe, you ready?” you both settle down on his car, you just finish your final exams for this week, you and Jaehyun are up for a 2 hour long drive to get to your vacation house, most of your family are already there since this morning and the both of you have to finish your exams and classes first before joining them, you nod your head at him as he pull his jacket over his head and handing it you. Jaehyun knows that you get easily cold but you don’t want to turn the heater up and make him suffer as he tends to sweat a lot, that leads you to having his hoodies stack up in your closet.

“You have to cut your smoking off you know it’s not good for your health.” You say as you saw him scratch the back of his neck, a freshly lit stick in his mouth, when the both of you started going out you have seen him smoke a couple of times to the point that it got you curious and tried it, you have been smoking in the past but you cut it off as it was unhealthy. Jaehyun on the other hand finds it hard. “old habits die hard.” He told you once.

“You got to compromise, baby.” Jaehyun blew the smoke outside— his window rolled down and one hand on the stirring wheel, you got to admit though, your boyfriend looked hot. “Fine, what do you suggest?”

“Marry me after we graduate.” Your head snap back to look at him, as you waited for him to laugh and say that he was joking. Jaehyun throw the cigar outside reaching for the rubbing alcohol to clean his hands, you tend to hate the smell that clings to his hands whenever he smokes. You were awfully quiet, shocked at what he said, and you found yourself caught in your thoughts.

“If you promise to be with me forever, until the day that our hair turns white, then I promise to cut my smoking off.” He smiled at you, reaching for your hands that was placed in your lap as he pulls it closer to his mouth to give it some kisses. You can’t really say anything as tears started to fall one by one, you we’re just so happy that he thinks of being together with you for that long. “I know I’ve done so many things that disappoints you, but you still choose to be with me, and for that, I’m really grateful. So, I’m asking you this right now, I know we still have to graduate and we still have a long way ahead of us. And I would still have to buy you the most beautiful ring in the world. What I can give you right know is my hopeful words— promising you that I would be faithful and love you until the end, so are you going to say yes?” he asks while holding your hand.

“Yes.” the both of you laughed at the situation as you reach out to kiss him in the cheeks. “Babe! Stay seated or will get into an accident” he shouts but laughs with you.

You definitely don’t regret falling in love with Jung Jaehyun.

  Fin

[badsext]

Prompt: “I wish he’d teach me how to play mine.”

I found ⬆️ as a random tag related to I don’t know what, and it just made me blush with all the mental images of things OC could be requesting Rob teach them how to play.

Character: Anybody but Roland and Ivan, cuz they’d be too easy and where’s the fun in that. Also, I hate the theramin. And 80s fashions.

* This is not my gif and I could not locate the gif maker for proper credit*

How to Play: Rob x Fem!Reader

Thank you for the request.  Your requests are the best! :)

Warnings ⚠️ Public Smut, Food, Puns, Fluff

——————————————————————————

Rob had a penchant for quirky restaurants. Over the past few weeks he had already taken you to an Asian fusion bistro with live performing aerialists and a farm to table establishment that encouraged diners to help with a few farm chores before being seated at their table.  This place was tame by comparison, merely specializing in themed soups.  

There was a lull in the conversation and Rob started giggling.  

“What is it?”  His laughter was contagious.  

“Listen,” he said leaning in.

“What,  I don’t-“

“That’s the sound of fifty people trying not to slurp their soup.”

You smiled, noisily consuming your noodles in defiance.

“Enjoying the ‘PHOMO?’”

“It’s pretty good.  How’s yours?  What did you order again?”

“I’ve got ‘Won Ton Desire.’”

“These names. I swear.”

Rob continued to peruse the menu.  “Tomatotally Awesome? Chick Send Nood(le)s?”

“Yeah, some of these are really stew-pid.”

“Are you proud of yourself for that one?”

“This restaurant was your idea, remember?”

“If you’d told me where we were going, I might have reconsidered.”

“Take Our Broth Away is the hottest spot in town right now.  There’s a waitlist a mile long.  I had to pull some strings.”

“I’m gonna pull your strings!,” you quipped back.  

“Ooh, Please elaborate.”  Rob smirked, resting his chin in his hands.

The waitress came up to your table.  “I just wanted to check on you two.  Enjoying your soup?  Can I get you anything else?  For dessert we have a lovely cold strawberry and fresh mint gazpacho.”

“We’ll take it!  Two spoons, please.”

The dessert, essentially a fruit smoothie in a bowl, was heavenly, the best part of the meal.  Your spoons clinked as you scuffled over the elegant portion.

“I heard you play the spoons.  It’s like an Irish folk music thing, right?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, passing the silver utensil between his lips and pulling it out clean.  “Bet you think I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know you would.  I’m counting on it,” you teased.

Rob collected another spoon and licked that one clean as well.  Then he stood up, rolled up his sleeves and put one leg up on the chair.  This was getting serious. 

He threaded the instruments between the fingers in his right hand.  He slapped them rhythmically against his jeans, his dominant hand alternating between cupping them and gently tapping them together.  It was an oddly pleasant sound and he looked hot as hell doing it.  This man could make anything look sexy.  

Other couples started checking out the strange music coming from your table.  He couldn’t resist improvising a few cheeky song lyrics.  His singing voice was average, but his charm could make a herd of stampeding buffalo stop and swoon.  

Rob signed a few autographs and posed for a couple of selfies.  After a while the fans dispersed, returning to their tables.  Alone again, you settled back into your secluded table against the wall.  “Well, now.  That was entertaining.”  

“I aim to please.”

“Mm.  I wish you’d show me how to play.”  You brushed your skirt away from your leg and parted your knees just enough to give him the message.  

“We’re not talking about music anymore are we?”  Rob leaned in and stroked the length of your bare thigh.  You shook your head coyly.  He cradled your face in his hand.  Nuzzling your cheek into his palm, you stared up at him, your eyes posing a challenge.  

Rob quickly adjusted the tablecloth to give you a few more inches of coverage on the side facing out.  Then he brushed his hand over the little strip of cotton which held your forbidden fruit.  

“Is this what you want?, he whispered.  

“Ah...ha.”  You inhaled nervously.

He hooked his finger under the fabric and rubbed his knuckle against your clit.

You bit your lip to suppress any sound from escaping.  You were normally not this sensitive, but just the possibility of getting caught electrofied your senses.  Every clink of plates and distant muffled voice raised the intensity.  It was masterful the way he remained so poised above the table and angled your bodies so it just looked like an intimate conversation to the casual observer.  

“The waitress could come round the corner any second with the check,” he said, slipping a finger inside you.  You gripped his shoulder to steady yourself.  He used his thumb to roll your clit in a slow and steady circle.  

“Ahh.”  Your head tilted back.  Rob gently guided it back.  “Look at me.  Focus on me,” he said.

He held you in his green eyed gaze, encouraging you.

He added another finger and together they curled and flexed inside you, his thumb bearing down, relentlessly manipulating your swollen aching clit.  You sat there helpless, a dribbling mess.  “Oh fuck,” you whispered as the flood endorphins erupted from your core.  You shuddered and sighed, clinging to Rob for stability.  

��So, how are we doing?”  The waitress returned.  She noticed the overwhelmed look on your face.  “Oh, hon are you okay?”  You didn’t know what to say.  You hid your face with your hands.

“She is just a little overwhelmed and I haven’t even gotten to the big surprise yet.”  Rob winked at you.  

“Oh, well, I’ll give you some privacy.”  She smiled, probably assuming you were flustered by some big romantic gesture.  She left the check, then disappeared.  Rob paid for the meal, tipping generously.

“Nice cover, but now you’ve got me wanting another surprise.”  You went in for a kiss.

“Oh but there is another surprise,” he assured you.  “Now, let’s go home, so we can do the weird stuff.”  You laughed.  “Wait, you forgot your key,” he added, jingling the thing a few inches from your face.

“That’s not my...Oh.  Rob, what did you do?”

“I got a little place.  I’ve decided to stick around for a while.”  

You lunged at him and threw your arms around his neck.  It was a surprise, one you had been hoping for.  You held the key triumphantly.  “This night just keeps getting better.  Now, tell me more about the weird stuff…”      

@salvador-daley @super-unpredictable98 @bubblyani @helena-way07 @chipster-21 @punknatch @zombiedixon89 @ringpopdust

[mediocre-writerr]

we’re going down [leah rilke]

bring us through: leah rilke book

chapter 2: we’re going down

*not my gif*

The private jet was fancier than any plane I’ve ever been on. Seats where your feet weren’t cramped like a bunch of sardines in a sardine can. A smell that doesn’t smell like someone just ate the whole Taco Bell menu before they came on.

It was clean and polished. No spot had a stain, like it was brand new. Perfect as one would say.

Here’s the thing about perfection though: everyone has their own version of perfect.

Here’s the thing about me: I didn’t know that until much more recently.

There were many trials and tribulations with my family, especially when it came to perfection...or well perfection in my dad’s eyes. But somehow, some way, we always came out stronger. There was one time where my mom didn’t get the job we needed to really help our financial situation, and my dad got so angry that she wasn’t perfect that she had to go live with my aunt for a couple months. But when she came back with a new better job, my dad celebrated her. We went to a fancy restaurant in the city and ate the most expensive food on the menu. Then my older sister didn’t marry the guy my dad wanted her to and he disowned her for a few months. Until she came back with more money and a grandkid for our parents. He threw the baby a huge baptism party, spending loads of money buying them a house and the necessities for a baby.

My mom not getting a job? Fixed with a big celebration dinner. My sister not marrying the man my dad wants? Fixed with a huge baptism party and buying them a house.

I’m valedictorian, on the verge of going to the most prestigious school in Texas on a full ride: Rice University. And then right when everything in life seemed to be perfect, I messed everything up. There was no way coming back up from this one.

I was just sitting at the kitchen table during dinner. Eating mom’s classic country fried steak and mashed potatoes with gravy. Occasionally, participating in awkward conversation about how good the food is. I felt like I slept-walked there, barely able to recall the argument before dinner, the yelling, the screaming. Remembering for the thousandth time in the past week, that she was gone.

I sat there awkwardly, waiting for the other foot to drop. That I was just going to get kicked to the curb like everyone else who didn’t follow what my dad has planned for their life. But as my younger brothers went upstairs for bed I recognized something on my dad’s face that I had never seen since they found out. His face dressed in a big smile, like he was just told he’s going to Disney World.

As if on beat, he leaned in closer to me from across the table. And I knew that things were about to go for a crash-landing. His unusual happiness at my disobedience was going to wreck havoc into my life.

He cleared his throat hesitantly as my mother joined us back on the table. His breath smelled like his usual bourbon, “So Raleigh,” he said, crossing his fingers together with my mom’s, “We have a fun surprise for you.”

As if on cue there was a knock on the door. My father gestured for me to go get the door. I opened it revealing Shelby and her parents. I stopped short in my place, both of us frozen with confusion written all over our faces. But her parents had an unfamiliar expression: genuine happiness?

I cleared my throat, trying to piece everything together, “Hi Mr and Mrs. Goodkind. It’s a pleasant surprise. My parents are at the kitchen table.”

I open the door wider for them as the two of them say their hello’s and walk inside, “What’s going on?” I ask Shelby and she shrugs.

“I have no idea,” she whispers back, “But it can’t be good.”

The two of us sat across from our parents, as they stared at us with grins on their faces. But it’s as if the grins had a double meaning to them, “We wanted to talk to the two of you about something. We know the two of you are as thick as thieves, I mean you never shut up about each other.” Mr. Goodkind laughs, trying to ease the awkward tension, but it misses by a longshot.

Me and Shelby laugh along awkwardly, as we look at each other with a side glance. They said fun surprise. Not we’re kicking you out onto the streets. But we knew, from the way that our mom’s wouldn’t look at us or from the way our father’s faces grew more and more stern by the second, that something was about to go down.

My dad fetched something from his office. Two envelopes with our name scrawled across it, with a pamphlet in his name. The pamphlet in big bold letters saying: Dawn of Eve.

“We want you to have this,” my dad says, “It’s a gift for the two of you.”

We slowly opened the envelopes revealing a plane ticket to Hawaii, along with an itinerary, “It’s a retreat,” my mom blurted, “A beautiful month trip to Hawaii with other girls around your age. You’ll love it. Find your true self. Growing.”

Mrs. Goodkind chimes in, “Aromatherapy messages, swimming with dolphins, workshops!”

“A chance for the two of you girls to discover who you’re really ought to be.” Mr. Goodkind says.

And at that point I knew. It wasn’t just any retreat, it was a retreat to get our shit together.

I closed the overhead container, like closing the container would shut out the memories too. Looking for a distraction, I opened up Instagram on my phone scrolling through various posts of people back home and celebrities flaunting off their life.

Everyone seemed to have taken their seats. The brunette with a book sat in the back away from everyone else, holding onto the book like her life depended on it. The ‘put on your seatbelt’ sign flashed above us, as a video began playing on the screen in front of us.

“Right now, hundreds of girls just like yourselves, board charters just like this one, are on route to our retreat in Kona, Hawaii.” the middle-aged lady said.

But I wasn’t quite focused on that, but rather the girl in the back all by herself. She was staring blankly at the seat in front of her, not paying attention to anyone in the plane or the video.

“The Dawn of Eve literally waits for no man.” the lady says, causing me to catch my attention.

I looked at my best friend who was captivated by the video. I give her a look and she just shrugs. The air on the plane was tense as we lifted off into the air. It seemed like nobody wanted to be here. So Shelby did what she did best.

“I’m gonna start an icebreaker to get to know everyone.” she states, starting to get up from out of her seat.

I pull her back down as fast as I could, “Shelb, really? We’re not on a mission.”

But she just pulled out of my grasp standing up. I let out a sigh, even though everyone would hate this idea, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t support her? “So, in the interest of bringing us all together I would like to propose a little ice breaker.”

I could literally feel everyone’s eye roll in the room. An asian girl with bangs stood up suggesting ‘Never Have I Ever’. But of course peppy Shelby shot down her suggestion. She was never one for those types of games. Especially with all of the secrets she keeps hidden inside.

“Alright I’m gonna start with an introduction and play matchmaker,” she says walking up and down the aisle.

I was trying to pay attention to Shelby, but for some reason I kept looking back at that beautiful brunette. Who did not seem to be interested in anything Shelby was saying. Her nose still knee-deep in that book of hers, curled onto her side, reading like it was life or death.

“And this is my best friend Raleigh Fuller,” my best friend says, snapping out of my trance. She looks at you with the look as she follows your gaze to the girl in the back, “We’re from Dillon, Texas.”

She grabs my hand, dragging me all the way towards the back, sitting next to the girl, “You two will be paired up together. Have fun you two.” she says to me with a wink before walking back down the aisle.

The brunette didn’t acknowledge me though, but rather kept reading her book. I cleared my throat, awkwardly, trying to gain her attention.

“The Nature Of Her? By Jeffrey Galanis.” I said, squinting at the book cover across from me.

That seemed to have caught her attention, “You’ve read it?”

“No. I actually never heard of it, but it seems like it’s interesting. If you’ve been having your nose stuffed in since I accidentally ran into you.” I say jokingly with a small smile.

The flight attendant came by with a cart full of chocolate cake. We both thank him softly, before indulging in the richness of the cake.

She didn’t respond after that all she did was stick her nose in her book again. But it seemed like she wasn’t even reading the pages. After three seconds she’s already flipping onto another page.

I cleared my throat, scratching the back of my neck. I mean what am I supposed to say? The girl clearly didn’t want to be bothered. It’s like the writing in those pages were magical. The old me would just sit back in the leather private jet chair, feeling sorry for myself about her completely ignoring me. Probably thinking something like: wow, I guess I’m really not cool. Or spit out a random fact since that’s all I know like: competitive art used to be in the Olympics.

But that past me was probably dug next to the old Taylor Swift’s grave. The lyric that goes: “I’m sorry the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now...why? Cause she’s dead.” Yeah that’s how I’m feeling on the inside, so instead I say, “You know it’s kinda rude that we’re supposed to be having a conversation, but you’re completely ignoring me.”

She let out a laugh and took one glance up from the book. Finally being met with her bright blue eyes, “Does it look like I want to be bothered right now?”

“No, but it looks like you’re reading the same page over and over again. Like it’s the only thing that can keep your heart beating,” I said, “What’s so interesting about that book anyway?”

She studied me for a brief moment. Her eyes leave the pages of that book for more than five seconds.

Finally, she said, “Look, it’s one of my favorite books. But I don’t think there’s a rule against rereading your favorite book over and over again. That’s like me telling you that you can’t read Wuthering Heights over and over again.”

Now it was my turn to stare at the girl.

She was right. She may have been a closed off book, but so was I. I used to be one of those people who would kill to ask thousands of questions about what that book was about. Or why she loved it so much. I would love to join in and lead on Shelby’s icebreakers. But now? Sometimes, I don’t even want to talk to Shelby.

I wanted to apologize for my comments. These days, I can’t control my own emotions or what I want to say anymore.

I’m sorry, I imagined myself saying, I’m sorry that I was a complete pain in the butt. I didn’t mean to judge you and how invested you are in that book. My parents found out my deepest darkest secret. And instead of accepting me with open loving arms they decided to send me to a retreat. A retreat in which I’m pretty sure is a conversion therapy camp, but they don’t want to say that out loud. So they call it a fun surprise for me and my best friend. While the girl I fell in love with is just gone. I used to be this bright bubbly girl, but now I’m not. So, please forgive me for my behavior since you probably don’t want to be here either.

That’s a little TMI, don’t you think?

I open my mouth and start to utter those meaningless two words when my best friend came rushing past.

“Shelby? Where are you going?” I ask, surprised at how fast she was moving.

“I got chocolate cake in my teeth.” she mumbles, covering her face in her hand and I immediately got the message.

“Ah got it.”

Shelby rushed back into the bathroom and I turned to the brunette in front of me again. The closed-book of a girl, opening my mouth once more ready to mumble the two most overused words. But the plane started shaking, jolting us back and forth. The two of us look at each other, tilting our heads to the side.

“Hello everyone. We’re experiencing a little turbulence.” The plane continued to jolt and it seemed like more than just a little turbulence, “Actually a lot of turbulence!” the pilot yells.

The lights flashing on and off. The brunette just shoved her face back in the book. This could be our last moments on Earth and she’s still reading that book! I get up from out of my seat, banging on the bathroom door.

“Shelby! Open the door!” I yell.

My blonde best friend came bursting out and she fell onto her knees on the floor. Praying to the God she still whole-heartedly believed in. I fell down on the ground next to her, holding her in my arms as she prayed. I didn’t pray, but rather sat there thinking that this was the end.

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

Love at First Bite

Rayla is taken by a client to eat at the Italian-Korean fusion place in town and falls in love with the food, and later, the chef.

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

Rayla smiled at her client as they waited for their server to come.  Her boss had told her that they had to keep the contract with the client’s company no matter what, and if that meant going to a Korean-Italian fusion restaurant that would probably be too spicy for Rayla’s Scottish, fried-food-loving taste buds, so be it.  The client, Ms. Danvers, had been hyping the restaurant up all evening.  “You said you like potatoes?  This place as amazing kimchi-style potatoes and potato pancakes.”

Rayla nodded.  “My grandmother is Irish and there are always potatoes cooking in her house.”  Rayla subtly looked around the dining room. The walls were mostly white with a few panels a beautiful red.  There was artwork on the walls, ranging from sceneries to portraits.  They all looked to be done by the same artist but Rayla couldn’t place a name to them.  The air was warm and smelled of spices and herbs and cheese.  Rayla could see a row of cheeses on one of the shelves.  “Do they use a lot of cheese here?”

“Korean food pairs wonderfully with cheese.  There’s a rumor that all the vegetables here are from the local farmer’s market as are most of the cheeses.  It’s fusion, but it’s as domestic as possible, too.”

“You’ve really been talking this place up.”

Ms. Danvers flushed.  “It’s my favorite restaurant.  I come here for lunch once a week and get take-away whenever I’m having a bad day.  This place is known for Korean-Italian fusion, but they make a delicious Thai laksa and a vegetarian Tom Yum that is to die for.”

“Really?”  Rayla didn’t know that much about Asian food, but she knew that Tom Yum was common in Thai eateries.

“The chef is a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean, his grandparents being from Thailand and South Korea.  He knows the flavors well and plays with them, but when he goes authentic, he’s the best in town.  He will also make almost any dish vegetarian if you request it.”

“How accommodating.”

A server came up, a smile on their face.  “Good evening and welcome to Sarai’s Place.  Any wine to start this evening?”  Rayla shook her head, surprised when Ms. Danvers asked for Thai iced tea for the both of them.  “And what can I get started for you?”

“Ms. Burrows?”

Rayla looked down at the menu again.  “Hmm.  I’m not sure what to get.  I don’t have a very high spice tolerance.”

The server nodded.  “Scale of 1 to 10?”

“Maybe a three.”

“Do you like kimchi?”

“Never had it.”

“Then I recommend trying the kimchi potatoes, if you like potatoes, or the risotto, which features chopped kimchi, sesame oil, and garlic.  The chef makes two kinds of kimchi, one mild and one spicy, so he’ll use the mild for you.  For the main dish, if you enjoy cheese, a pasta dish that has mussels, a Korean chili paste and tomato sauce, and fresh parmesan.  Everything that can be local, is local and if you eat vegetarian, the mussels will be taken out and instead you will get mushrooms.”

“My grandmother is Irish so I’m very snobbish with my potatoes.”

“I would rate his potato pancakes a ten.  He takes the traditional Korean recipe and adds parmesan cheese and some rosemary and its cooked with the house chili oil, so when you cut into it, it’s cheesy and subtly spicy.  The house chili oil is made with both gochugaru and the type of dried chilis usually used to make olio di peperocino.”

“I’ll go with the pancakes and the mussels pasta you suggested.”

“Excellent choice.  And for you?”

Ms. Danvers smiled.  “Did he make Tom Yum or laksa today?”

“Laksa.”

“I will take a bowl of laksa while Ms. Burrows is eating her pancakes and I will also take the mussels pasta.  Can we also get an order of garlic bread?”

“Of course.  I’ll get your Thai iced teas ready.  Anything else today?”

“What’s the dessert of the week?”

“Since it’s summer, mango pudding, Thai coconut pudding, and strawberry-lime cheesecake.”

“We’ll each take a slice of the strawberry-lime cheesecake.”  The server nodded and walked away after reading back the list.  “I hope you don’t mind me ordering dessert for you, but he only makes that cheesecake when the strawberries are in their peak season and it’s worth it.”

Rayla nodded.  “No problem, Ms. Danvers.  I wouldn’t really know what to order otherwise.”

They chatted while they waited, pausing when the garlic bread came to the table.  Rayla had been expecting the kind of garlic bread Americans seemed to adore, buttery and almost artificially garlic-y.  Instead, they got small, fresh loaves that had pieces of roasted garlic and thyme baked into it, served with the house chili oil and garlic that had been cooked until it spread like butter on the bread.  Rayla was impressed with the flavor and how the pieces of garlic were not overpowering.

When the potato pancakes came, Rayla could smell the spice but trusted the server had not led her astray, eyeing her glass of Thai iced tea just in case.  One bite and she was in heaven.  The cheese and the heat from the chili only enhanced the potato flavor as did the light smattering of soy sauce and vinegar-based sauce.  Rayla almost ignored Ms. Danvers when the pasta came, inhaling the dish.  At the end of the meal, once the excellent cheesecake had been finished, Rayla was in love with the food.  “Well, Ms. Danvers, I suppose I should be thanking you for introducing me to my new favorite restaurant.”

Ms. Danvers chuckled.  “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I would marry the chef in a heartbeat if I got to eat like this every day for the rest of my life.”

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

Rayla brought all her clients and her coworkers to Sarai’s Place in the following months.  She tried almost everything on the menu, though she was still mildly terrified of the spiciness of the laksa if the smell alone was anything to go by.  Every Monday and Thursday, she got take-away and ordered the dessert whenever she ate in on Saturdays.  She was thankful she was single or else she would have to come here every week with someone and she liked dining alone in the quiet restaurant.

Sometimes, they played classical music, other times K-pop, and Rayla would always remember the night they had played an opera medley when several people with the Katolis Opera Company had dined that night.  The chef seemed keenly aware of who came to his restaurants at what dates and times and played music to fit their tastes but also made sense with the theme.

It was a popular spot with not only Foodies and high school kids, but a lot of Asian-Americans dined there.  Rayla had looked up the reviews and had seen it was highly recommended by the Katolis Korean and Thai communities, the Katolis restaurant circles, and the Commission for the Promotion of Local Ingredients and Farmer’s Markets.  No one said anything bad about Sarai’s Place without at least ten people defending the restaurant’s choices.

And now Rayla was sitting with her boss, Ahling Patel, and having to stop herself from inhaling the food in front of her.  The risotto was so satisfying and paired with chicken breast stuffed with kimchi, perilla, and ricotta.  “What do you think, Mr. Ahling?”

“It’s delicious.  I’ve always felt that fusion was a gimmick, but I’m sold by this young man’s food.  Young lady,” Ahling called the server, smiling good-naturedly when she nodded at him and finished up with her current customer.  When she came up to their table, she greeted them again.  “Is there anyway we can speak to the chef?”

The server blinked before nodding.  “I’m sure I can arrange it.  Dinner service is almost over and there are only you and two other tables.  Can I bring you dessert while I’m talking to him?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Our pastry chef made yakgwa, which are little honey pastries made with pine nuts, ginger, and sesame oil and they also made a yuja polenta cake and a play on Italian lemon cake, but with yuja.”

Rayla ordered the yakgwa and Ahling got the polenta cake and waited for the news.  Rayla couldn’t recall having ever seen the chef even though she came there at least twice a week, closer to three.  She hadn’t seen any pictures of him, either, surprisingly enough.  He was said to keep to himself and shunned the limelight, which is why he never made TV appearances.

A few minutes later, it wasn’t their server, but a man who looked be about 26 arriving with their desserts.  His green eyes were striking, as were his cheekbones and sharp jawline.  He gave them both an awkward smile as Rayla noticed his ring finger was bare and didn’t seem to have a tan line.  Was this the chef?  His coat would seem to say so.  “Nice to meet you both.  I’m Callum Evans, the owner and executive chef here at Sarai’s Place.”

Ahling smiled.  “It’s nice to meet you, young man.  I’m Ahling Patel and this is my employee, Rayla Burrows.”  Rayla nodded her head in acknowledgement.  “Your food is delicious.  How on Earth do you even think of this?”

The young man flushed, looking down at his feet.  “Um, I’m not that special.  Many people before me found that Korean and Italian food go well together.  Most of my recipes are riffs on family recipes and all my Thai dishes are family recipes.  I was originally going to go traditional Korean or Thai but there were no fusion places in the area and I’m part Irish and German on top of being a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean.  It felt…right, I guess.  I’m mixed and grew up with a variety of food cultures in my house, so why not do fusion?  Korean and Italian just made the most sense, so…”  He looked embarrassed at the praise, rubbing the back of his neck.

Rayla leaned forward a bit.  “I’ve eaten here at least twice week for the past six months.  I can tell you, without a doubt, it’s my favorite place to eat.”

“Thank you.”

Ahling cleared his throat.  “Are you single, Mr. Evans?”

Callum flushed even deeper.  “Ah.  Yes.  Being a chef requires long hours and running a restraint requires even more.”

“You need a good partner to help you find balance in your life!”

Rayla remained quiet as she watched them talk.  The only thing going through her mind was ‘I’m going to marry this man for his food.  I’ll eat well for the rest of my life.’  She stayed when Ahling said good night and while the restaurant emptied out.  Callum stayed at the table, fidgeting under her gaze.  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“A date.”

Callum blinked.  “We have a sticky rice made with dates-”

“No.  A romantic excursion.  An outing.”

He gulped, looking her up and down.  “A date?  Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell in love with your food almost immediately after I tasted it and would like the chance to know the man who cooks it.”

Callum blushed.  “OK.”  They exchanged info and Rayla smirked as she left with his number in her cellphone.  There was no way she would be letting this one go.

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

After four months of dating, Rayla could confidently say that she was now just as in love with Callum the man as she was with his cooking.  Learning that his restaurant was named after his mother who died when he was in high school had endeared him to her, as had the knowledge that all the art on the walls were his paintings.  Was there anything he couldn’t do?

They were currently in Callum’s kitchen, him developing a new recipe while Rayla took down notes for him.  Even on his days off, he was always thinking about what he would do next and Rayla admired his passion to his craft.  When he brought her up to try the dish, she groaned.  “I will marry this man if it’s the last thing I do,” she muttered.

“I can hear you, you know,” Callum chuckled.

Rayla raised a brow.  “Then why haven’t you accepted my proposal?”

“Because you proposed to my food?”

“I hardly see the difference.”  Callum laughed at her, shaking his head.  “Hey, move in with me.”

“We’ve been together for four months.”

“Is that a problem?  Too short?”

Callum stared at her.  “You’re serious.”

“I told you; I fully plan on marrying you to eat your cooking ‘til the day I die.”

“So, it’s my cooking you love?”

“When have I hidden this?”  Rayla reached for his hand, pulling him closer.  “I’m serious.  Move in with me.”

“Why?”

Rayla shrugged.  “I’m happy when we wake up next to each other.  I like the idea of coming home to you or you coming home to me.  I don’t like sleeping alone, and, for the past month, the two of us have been alternating sleeping at each other’s places and it doesn’t make sense to pay rent on two places when we could be happy together?”

“That and I’m the only person willing to put up with your stubborn ass.”

Rayla gave him a mock offended looking, giving his arm a playful smack.  “You love my stubborn ass.”

“I do.”  Callum leaned down and captured her lips, letting her taste the dish he had been working on for the past hour.  When they pulled apart, he looked down into her eyes with his bright green ones.  “I think I love you.”

“That’s good, because I think I love you, too.”

Rayla would take that for now.  And in two years, when she would be standing next to him in front of their new house, matching rings on their fingers, and a very pregnant belly, she would remind him that he had his food to thank for their relationship.  “I fell in love with your food first.”

“I’m glad you did, because you kept coming back.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.”        

[lumaejin]

ten | zehn | 十

Bad Luck. New company. New luck. You’re getting a new manager. Finally. Your experiences with your last were... let’s say anything but pleasant, so you’re excited to have a new one. Well... only to find that good luck really doesn’t seem to like you.

➳ pairing: manager!seokjin x singer!reader

➳ genre: idol au, sm au, a tiny bit of angst?

➳ warnings: minor swearing, will be handling mental illnesses and triggering events from now on

➳ word count: 1885

The car ride to the restaurant was like always, silent. Over the past two days, you had quickly realised that the only thing you two managed to have a normal conversation about was work. How the hell the two of you had managed to talk for hours non-stop on the plane was lost on you. Even though you had somehow silently come to the conclusion that you could spend time with him without throwing up, you still had no idea how to start conversations. You were officially friends, but it was plainly awkward (though of course, it was better than before). You wanted to be comfortable around him, but memories of the end kept coming up whenever you looked him in the eye. You wanted to let your barriers down, but your mind and brain were warning you to not get too close. It was like your body was fighting an inner battle. A part of you hoped for nothing more than to talk with him like you would have before, another part of you wanted you to stay as far away from him as humanly possible. Currently, the first part was winning… you hadn’t run back to Korea yet. That was something, right?

Staring out of the window at the beautiful cityscape, you tried to keep your mind off of the person sitting in front of you. It was mostly dark, but the yellowish street lights gave the buildings an elegant feel. Stars competed with each other, trying to shine brightly enough to be seen, accompanied by the sound of the low rumbles of the car.

It was so peaceful. No traffic jams, no continuous honking, no hurried people with briefcases trying to make it to work on time. London was sleeping, softly breathing almost like a small baby.

It was beautiful.

You wished that your inner thoughts could be just as placid, but honestly, it was just an empty wish. Wishes were nothing if you didn’t do anything about them and they would never come true if you didn’t work for them. And honestly, something inside you (probably the second party in your emotional battle) was preventing you from pursuing that wish.

“We’re here,” Minju said about 10 minutes later, making you turn to look at the back of Jin’s head. He was texting someone on his phone, probably one of his friends. When he heard the driver’s words, however, he immediately put the phone back into his pocket.

“I’ve already reserved,” he said, getting out of the car and opening the door for you like a true gentleman.

You took his hand as he helped you get out, trying to ignore the warmth of his hand and the tingling feeling which was left in its place. You sculptured your face into one of nonchalance, waiting for Minju to get out too.

“He wanted to go and eat with some of his friends in London and I let him have the rest of the night off. Someone else will be coming to pick us up,” Jin said, tugging your sleeve in the direction of the entrance. You heard the engine of the car rumble and waved to Minju one last time, before the car backed out of the driveway and disappeared.

“He deserves it,” you said, putting on your face mask. It was unlikely that you were going to be recognised, but ‘better safe than sorry’ right?

As both of you entered the restaurant, Jin exchanged a few words with the manager while you looked around silently. The whole place was dimly lit, the lights tinted slightly red. There were multiple wooden tables placed around the room, and a few families were still eating their dinner. Some of them were korean and asian, some english. The smell of the food filled your nose and it immediately reminded you of your hometown. You felt Jin tap your arm as the man bowed and smiled, leading the two of you to a table slightly separated from the others. Another precaution to make sure you were safe from prying eyes.

A waitress came by with your menus moments later and as you opened it, your mouth watered at the sight of the korean dishes. You didn’t think that western food was terrible, but whatever it was that you had ordered yesterday, it had been a nightmare. Stale. Tasteless. Ew.

“Never thought I’d be so happy to see rice again,” Jin said as both of you looked through the list.

“Me too. To think that mum used to have to force me to eat just a tiny bit more of it,” you said.

“I remember,” he said, “You used to complain about it all day.”

Immediately, his eyes widened in surprise, “Oh my god, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It just came out of my mouth.”

“It’s okay,” you said, just as the waitress came to get your orders.

After she walked back to the kitchen, the two of you were left in silence again. You turned your head to examine the paintings, trying to look anywhere but at Jin. Weren’t you past this whole awkward silence thing? You had gotten used to awkward car rides, but sitting next to each other and being like this was something else. A lot worse.

“Look… I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Jin said, breaking the silence. Suddenly, you were wishing he hadn’t. Here comes the serious talk. “But if we’re gonna be around each other as much as we will be, I think it’s not enough to say that we’re just going to ignore the past.”

You had expected it, in all honesty, but had hoped for it to come at a later time or maybe in a place where you could escape. For a moment, you thought about going to the bathroom… that would easily show that you weren’t ready for this conversation. Just as you were about to stand up however, Namjoon’s voice coursed through your head. He was right, the two of you really needed to talk if you were going to work together. He was right…

“I hurt you and I want to apologise for that,” Jin said. He was fidgeting with his hands, something he had always done when he was nervous. Once upon a time, you had found it cute and taken them in yours to try and calm him. Now, you were the reason for his nervousness.

“I’m not gonna lie… at the time, I really did mean what I said to you and I’m sorry for ever thinking about you in the way that I did. I’m sorry for never coming to you earlier to apologise, and I’m sorry that I ever even looked at someone else while I had you. You didn’t deserve what I did to you… you’d always been so good to me and truly, I loved you a lot. The woman… the woman I compared you with was a bitch and I let her words get to my head. I had a hunch that she was playing me, but decided to ignore it and… I’m sorry that I destroyed what we had,” Jin said, his eyes filling with so much regret as he looked at his hands, “I’m sorry for believing her words. I don’t even know why I did it… but I did it. I’m sorry Yn. If I hadn’t been so dumb, maybe… maybe everything would still be okay.”

Was it weird that you were happy that it hadn’t worked out with the woman? Was that being sadistic? You innerly shook your head at the thought. Here he was, apologising, and that was the one thing you decided to focus on.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me after you realised?” You were holding your tears back, using your experience as an idol to sculpture your expression carefully. Your facade was threatening to crack, however, the edges of the mask unstable and frail. You didn’t want to talk about this, but you knew that you needed it. This talk was long overdue, your own fears had prevented you from doing the sensible thing for so long. It was time to listen to Namjoon’s advice.

“I felt… I felt that you’d be better off without me,” Jin answered, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Once I came back to myself, I thought about it for a while and realised how much I hurt you. I just thought that you deserved better than me. I… I was going to apologise and then leave, but when I texted you, you never replied and I- I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore, so I decided to at least let you have that. I didn’t know that you had lost your phone… if I’d know I…”

You had always sworn that you wouldn’t let a break up ruin you. It was just a ‘simple’ break up, right? A few days and your heart would be healed. That was what you had thought before getting your heart shattered by the one person you loved most in this world. A break up like that had absolutely destroyed you. No matter how many days you tried to get over him, you were never able to. For many weeks, you watched someone else live your life, a hollowed out version of the real you. You watched as everything fell apart right in front of you. Your debut...pushed back. Your normal life… spent drinking at random bars. Your friends… pushed away whenever they tried to help. If Taehyung hadn’t been so insistent, if Jungkook hadn’t been so kind, if Namjoon had given up on you… you didn’t know what you would have done. They had been your saviours from the catastrophe that was Jin. And they continued to be saviours.

You couldn’t keep the tears back any longer. The thoughts of the times after the end… they hurt as much as thinking about the end itself. It hurt to watch yourself losing to life. It hurt to watch your friends’ desperate attempts to help you. It hurt to see the tears staining your pillows every night. But most of all, it hurt to relive the emotions you had felt during that time.

Before you knew it, he was sitting beside you, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his arms. The scent of his cologne and after-shave filled you and you almost smiled at the fact that he smelled just like he had so many years ago. The warmth of his embrace calmed your racing heart, but the tears continued to fall, wetting the front of his shirt. You could feel how sorry and regretful he was through his hug, how tight he held you, how there was wetness dripping from his eyes too.

And then, something inside of you changed. The barrier which had kept you from him, the barrier telling you that he was an absolute monster and that he was going to hurt you again and again and again if you even got close, disappeared? He had hurt you sure, and maybe you were going to regret this later, but the thing that mattered to you at that moment, was that he had made a mistake. And mistakes are made to be learned from.

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[travelingbytastebuds]

JORDAN WHERE: Bawadi Mediterranean Grill (6304 Leesburg Pike, Falls Church, VA 22044) (now with Turkish traveling companion Yusef! And a chef's daughter from Jordan! So much love!) Now that I'm getting to some of the smaller countries, I've started a new method of my madness wherein I parse through some menus online of miscellaneous Asian/Mediterranean/African to find restaurants that have at least one item from the country I'm searching for-- this miscellaneous Mediterranean grill for instance had Mansaf from Jordan, but when I tried to go there for a late lunch today I found that the problem with this new game plan is that some items are not offered all the time. After some asking around, I found that Mansaf is only on the dinner menu. I told them I would come back for dinner, but the manager suggested I try their lunch buffet because he assured me it was good. I still decided to come back for dinner. It was a good thing I did-- when I returned for dinner, the restaurant manager was waiting for me and he asked if I still wanted the Mansaf. I said yes, so he told the waiter who was serving me to get me the best piece. I didn't even have to look at a menu. I think he even did that side clap and I kind of felt like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Um, okay, wow! The place itself was really beautiful. Incredibly authentic. I have never seen so many hijabis in my life. Everyone was so polite, very happy-- the girl next to me was also eating alone. So she introduced herself and joked about me really being interested in the Mansaf. I explained a bit about my project and that I wanted to eat some traditional Jordan food. She said it was a very interesting project and then asked what I knew about the country of Jordan. "Not much." I said sheepishly, "I'm going to have to start learning." "I'm the daughter of the chef. We're from Jordan, that's why I asked." And suddenly I realized that my new gameplan for smaller countries was working AMAZINGLY. So I started asking her all about Jordan. Then I did some learning on my own when her break was over and she had to get back to working. She was really sweet and motivated me to get my learning on post haste. I found out that Jordan is a very peaceful and loving country, which seemed perfect for the grand finale on Valentine's Day. It's one of the only countries in the Middle East that is pretty peaceful and one of only two countries that has made peace with Israel. It's also where Petra is located, the historical and archaeological city. And it's biggest claim to fame is that it was featured in Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade. “Aren't you going to eat something?” A guy next to me who was also sitting alone asked and caused me to pause my research. He was really cute and gestured to the buffet. I guess he was wondering why I hadn't gotten a buffet plate. I told him I was there for one of the special dinner items that wasn't on the buffet. I ended up explaining a bit about my project when he asked. He was really fascinated and asked how far along I was on my travels. I showed him the app with the map and the colored-in countries. Then we started talking about how he was from Turkey himself and he suggested some good restaurants that served Middle Eastern food. And before I knew it we ended up in a two hour long conversation-- about food and traveling, families, blogging, different languages, the fact that THREE different people tripped or broke dishes within the course of our time there (heh, there was like a curse) and how we were both eating alone on Valentine's Day. He asked me to email him my Master List of restaurants and asked if I would like someone to go food adventuring with in the future. So.. basically met a cute Turkish guy at a Middle Eastern restaurant while eating alone on Valentine's Day just because we were seated next to each other. Totally blew the past few Valentine's Days away. It was a perfect ending to my day, what a perfect grand finale! The restaurant's food was AMAZING as well! Mansaf ended up being “lamb cooked in jameed/yogurt soup served on top of rice and shrak bread with jameed/yogurt soup on the side” (though at the time I was confused about the soup.. I thought it was like dipping butter). After Yemen, Saudi Arabia and Jordan food all ending up on the top of my favorites list, I think Middle Eastern food in general might be my favorite cuisine I wouldn't have tried without this project. Top marks all around! The things Jordan does with lamb and yogurt... just wow. I love lamb, I really need to eat more lamb. So soft and sweet. The mango juice on the side was good too, a bit more pulp-y than an Indian mango lassi. I'll be very pleased when I get to go back to Bawadi for the Palestinian meal they offer if it's anything as good as their mansaf. :) ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ JORDAN REDUX Holiday Yum Yum Box has arrived! It's their annual holiday box with a bunch of assorted countries and snacks based on the holiday traditions from those countries. Gingerbread from Poland, raspberry chips from Spain (they eat raspberries if they want love in the new year on New Year's Eve apparently), Baklava from Jordan for Ramadan (which is sometimes in winter but not this year), ect... Perfect for hibernating, drinking wine and watching bad Hallmark movies, which is all I've been doing this week (other than working).

[thiswasinevitableid]

#7 with Sternclay, for the prompts?

Here you go!  I went NSFW

#7: I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story”

Barclay is so excited; he’s going to be spending two weeks on the Dual Mesa set, writing an exclusive behind the scenes story that’s sure to give the magazine a big sales boost. 

“Ah, Barclay, come in.” Ned Chicane, the show’s director, ushers him into his office, “I assume they told you we will be leaving to shoot on location tomorrow?”

“Yes, I, uh, I’m really honored that you chose Q to run your story; your cast is so diverse, it really resonates with our readers.”

Ned waves a hand in faux-humility, “Why create a show with paranormal elements that simply recreates homogeneity? However, my dear boy, you were not chosen by me.”

“I requested it.” Barclay turns as a tall man with dark hair enters the office, and has the sudden urge to hide under the nearest table. The man currently staring him down with bright blue eyes and a mild-yet-clearly displeased expression is Joseph Stern, star of Dual Mesa and subject of a very unflattering article Barclay published a week ago.

“Look, Mr. Stern, I-”

“Quiet.” Stern holds up his hand, “I asked Ned to give Q a boost by granting access to the shoot because I think the magazine does excellent work. I asked for you to give you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Your writing is quite good, but clearly your research and fact checking needs some work.”

“Just because you don’t like it-”

“I don’t, but that’s not the issue. You published things that are patently false and easily provable as such. For instance, the claim that I got this role by sleeping with the director has two major flaws; one, Ned is not my type.”

“There’s no accounting for poor taste.” Ned says, clearly unbothered, 

“And two, Mr. Mosche would break my fingers if I tried to fuck his husband.” He points to the corner of the room where a large, tattooed man sits reading.

“Right you are.” He looks up long enough to reply. 

“And anyone on set could have told you that. Whatever your sources were, you didn’t do due diligence. So you’ll be trying again.”

“Look, buddy, where do you get off giving me orders?”

“By being the star they’d have the hardest time killing off.”

“And by raising good points.” Ned stands, “asking for a flat retraction would reflect poorly on the show, as it would look as if we were trying to hide the truth. This allows you to correct misconceptions as well as get exclusive looks at next season.”

“You’re literally a paid actor, how the hell do I know you aren’t faking these two weeks?” 

“You won’t be spending all your time with him; you’ll be interviewing others as well and have opportunities to observe him without him knowing.” Ned pats Barclays shoulder, “but he will be responsible for introducing you to the rest of the cast” 

Barclay glances at Stern, who lifts an eyebrow with a smirk.

“So. Have fun with that!” 

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

The introduction the next day goes as well as trying to light a match in a hurricane. Stern is polite and professional when Barclay arrives, introduces him to the cast and the main crew without mentioning the article. But it’s clear Barclay’s reputation precedes him.

“You really got Joe figured all wrong.” Duck Newton, who plays good-hearted Sheriff Frank Roosevelt on the show, pulls Barclay aside as Stern and co-star Aubrey Little (who plays Lucille, a plucky young woman with a dark past) get ready to shoot. 

“So everyone keeps saying, but I didn’t make that stuff up. It turned up when I researching him.”

“Don’t mean someone else didn’t just pull it out of their ass.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Barclay sighs, rubbing his forehead. 

“Look, all I know is Joe’s been nothin but kind a professional to me. I’d even call him a friend. Know he can come off as intimidatin and rigid sometimes, but he’s a good guy.”

Barclay hears variations of this sentiment over and over during the next two days. It’s part of why he’s currently sitting inside his motel room not far from the main set, eating dinner alone. Indrid, the costume designer had actually invited him to eat with a few members of the crew.  Barclay demurred. If the bulk of the people on set think he’s a jerk, he doubts they’ll be that open to getting to know him. Plus, he’s kind of humiliated at how little actual evidence he can find for the claims against Stern, and doesn’t want to give the other man a chance to gloat. 

There’s a knock on the door, and he opens it to find the last person he expects, or wants, to see. 

“Good evening, Barclay.” Out of costume, Stern almost looks ordinary. There’s still the unfair symmetry of his face, the way he makes jeans and t-shirt look somehow sophisticated. 

“Uh, something you need from me?”

Stern looks past him to his cobbled together dinner; Barclay’s a good cook, but the damn room doesn’t have anything more than a microwave. 

“The chance to buy you an actual dinner.”

Barclay’s about to point out that he’s not eating in the commissary tent because of Stern when the actor adds, “please?”

He grabs his wallet and joins Stern in the still-warm evening air, following him into the few blocks that make up downtown Sagebrush, the former mining town that makes up much of Dual Mesa’s background. He expects them to stop at the Mizpah, the sole fancy hotel and restaurant, but Stern guides him past it and into a kitschy diner. 

They study their menus in silence, the pleather booths squeaking awkwardly whenever one of them moves. 

Barclay orders the burger plate that comes with a slice of pie and Stern, surprisingly goes for an omelette off the all-day breakfast menu.

“Barclay I, well, it’s obvious we got off on the wrong foot. I want you to know that as much as the article upset me, I don’t want you to be miserable while you’re here. No ones going to shun you for what you wrote.”

“Pretty clear they’re all on your side.” Barclay sips his water, meeting Stern’s gaze.

“There don’t need to be sides; you want to write an accurate profile of what it’s like on set, and I want to not have my name dragged through the mud anymore. Those come out to be the same thing.”

“You seem real fucking confident.” Barclay narrows his eyes. 

Stern’s hackles go up, but then he sets his hands on the table with a measured breath, “I don’t pretend to be perfect, Barclay. I’m aware, well aware, of my flaws. But none of those flaws match what you wrote about me. I’m not asking to look untouchable in your piece, I’m asking to look like myself.”

Barclay looks down, spots him nervously shredding his napkin. As he’s thinking, a teenager in a tricolor tank-top approaches the table. 

“Um, sorry, but are you Joseph Stern? The guy who plays agent Hooper?”

Stern smiles, genuine and reassuring, “I am.”

“Could I, uh, get a picture? Like a selfie?” 

“Of course.”

Barclay watches Stern pose with the kid and compliment his pride shirt, before waving goodbye as he scurries back to his table to show his friends the photo.

“That doesn’t bother you?”

Stern shakes his head, “It happens pretty often, especially in town where most people know what I look like in my street clothes, so I’m used to it. Besides, for a lot of these kids there’s more than just the celebrity angle. I can count the number of gay, trans, Asian-american actors on T.V when I was kid with one hand,” He holds up a fist to indicate a zero, “if the price of being that person for kids now is posing for some pictures, I’ll pay it any day.”

Warmth blooms in his chest, the sincerity making him want to trade a truth in return, “Yeah, I remember looking for guys like me and not seeing them. I’d just pick a character I liked and kinda projected. Except the X-Files; then I just had a huge fucking crush on Mulder. Oh, thanks.” He smiles at the waitress as she sets his food down.

“I know that feeling. Somewhere there are pictures of me dressed as him for a Halloween party.”

“Heh, I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in ages.” Barclay munches on a fry, “Last three times I went as Bigfoot. It was an easy costume and kept my face hidden.”

“That’s a shame for the other party-goers.”

Barclay coughs, choking on his fry, as Stern blushes, shoves a piece of toast into his mouth, and changes the topic to books. 

The next day, when Barclay arrives on location and everyone is milling about getting ready to shoot, Stern pats the chair near his own and talks with him until he’s needed on camera. Over the next week, Barclay finds himself next to Stern more often than not, comparing notes on the mystery novels they’ve been passing back and forth, or explaining his job moonlighting as a cookbook editor, or listening to the actor describe his travels to the locations of famous cryptid sightings. What surprises him most is how charming he finds Stern when he’s nowhere near a camera. On set, in character as Special Agent Alex Hooper, he radiates the quiet charm that makes his character so beloved. When they’re alone it’s different, a little less polished and little nerdier, and rather than captivating him it makes Barclay want to protect him.

It turns out that slips of the tongue happen to Stern a lot, at least when he’s around Barclay. “Sec” routinely becomes “sex” and comments about Barclay’s size and strength come often, Stern always sheepish afterwards. As if his attention is something Barclay may not want rather than something he craves like a four-course meal. 

When he starts daydreaming about asking Stern back to his motel room after one of their now-regular dinners together (that Stern always pays for), he knows he’s in trouble. 

“Helllloo?” 

He jumps, chuckles in surprise as Aubrey finishes waving her hand in front of his face, “Sorry, was thinking about dinner.’

“I was saying thanks for coming out while we shoot this. I know how hard it can be to pull away from your ‘muse’.” She wiggles her eyebrows and Barclay feels the blush overrun him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll let him figure it out on his own.” Aubrey winks, the groans, “aw fuck here he comes.”

Robert Hayes, who plays the recurring role of Hooper’s supervisor, appears in the grove where they’re shooting a scene with just him and Aubrey. Barclay steps out of frame, Aubrey hissing “don’t leave me” as he does.

“I can’t believe Ned is letting Indrid do more alternative looks for you.”

“It works for Lucille.”

“It would work better if she was more conventionally attractive.”

Barclay growls under his breath; how dare this guy talk to his friend that way?

“Well, obviously not, because the audience likes me like this. And they have opinions worth listening too.”

The tension remains throughout the shoot, Barclay tensing every time Hayes opens his mouth. He pretends to be busy when the actor comes over to join him. 

“I’m glad you’re planning on expanding your take-down of Stern.”

“I never said that. I’m writing about the new season of the show.”

“If you want more information about what he’s really like, I’ll be happy to chat with you in private.” The older man pats his shoulder and heads off to his trailer. 

Barclay waits until he’s gone, then goes to look for Ned. He has a hunch the director might like to know about Haye’s offer. 

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

“...guess Ned put him in his place.” Stern finishes adjusting his tie as the scene sets up, “Sounds like he wanted his character to become the eventual lead, and thought shit-talking me would be the way to go.”

“I’m glad it’s sorted out.” Barclay pretends to be studying his notes so he doesn’t stare too noticeably at Stern’s ass.

“Me too. Thanks, Barclay.” Stern steps onto set, and as Ned begins running through the scene with Stern and the actor playing his (unbeknownst to him) alien lover, Bee, Barclay wishes he’d chosen to be elsewhere. Because this is a sex scene. With Stern. That he will be watching. 

No, damn it, he’s a professional. His butt is staying in this chair.

He makes it through the several takes of the dialogue just fine, starts sweating a little when he kissing begins. Stern’s kisses strike a balance between tender and passionate, perfectly in character, and Barclay would give his right arm to trade places with Bee. 

The action moves to the bed, Stern caressing his lover as they unbutton his shirt.

Okay, now he’d give his right arm and leg to be the one beneath him. 

He reminds himself this airs on TNT, not HBO, so it can’t get much more explicit.

Sterns whole body drips with soft dominance as he pins Bee to the bed, cooing that he’s never seen a finer sight.

Fine, his right arm, leg, and any non-vital organs, he’ll trade them all in a second to hear Stern say that to him, even if it’s only pretend. 

He doesn’t make it through the second take of the bed scene, hurries away as quietly as unobtrusively as he can. There’s no way he can make it to his motel like this, cock pressing so hard against his jeans he’s afraid he’ll end up with a zipper mark. And the bathrooms aren’t exactly private. He does have the key to Stern’s trailer, the actor having given it to him in case he needed somewhere air conditioned to rest from the heat. The trailer that is very nearby.

Does he dare?

The question hardly registers before he’s at the door, unlocking it and ducking inside before anyone sees. He leans against the counter with a groan, unzipping his pants and praying the pre-cum that immediately streaks his hand hasn’t made a noticeable spot in the denim. 

He fumbles around to find some tissues, not wanting to face the humiliation of Stern walking in to find him cleaning cum off of his cabinets (he does actually want that humiliation, and badly, but not without Stern’s consent).

The strokes are hard and fast, his eyes shut so tight he sees static as he imagines Stern behind him, saying how much he wants him, how needy he is, how he’ll take care of him. He grits his teeth, breath leaving him in faint hisses and stifled moans until the temptation to say Stern’s name overwhelms him. 

“Joe, Joe, fuck, Joe.”

“Yes, big guy?” A voice purrs in his ear as hands bracket him against the counter. 

“Fuck” He tries to freeze, finds he’s shaking too much from want and worry to do so. 

“You forgot to lock the door, silly boy. I, however, did not.”

“I’m, I’m sorry, I just needed to, fuck, I didn’t mean for you-”

One hand leaves the counter, strokes the base of his neck and toys with his hair, “what about this suggests I’m angry with this, um, development?”

Barclay whimpers, feet unwilling to turn and look Stern in the eye.

“Should I stop?” The tease goes from his voice.

All he can do is whimper again and shake his head.

The hand leaves his neck, slides down Barclay’s arm to rest atop his hand on the counter. The other takes it’s time snaking down his stomach and hips.

“Poor Barclay, no wonder you had to leave.” His hand nudges Barclay’s aside, takes it’s place around his cock, “you can probably see this thing from space. I’m taking this as a testament to my acting skills.” A laugh as he kisses Barclay’s neck, stroking him slowly. 

“Please don’t say this is acting too.” 

“It’s not.” A kiss to his cheek, a twist along his cock, both making him weak-kneed, “do you know what I was thinking about during that scene? I was thinking about you, what you’d look like if I fucked you. It’s only a quirk of anatomy” he grinds against Barclay’s ass,  “that means I didn’t have a noticeable reaction on camera.”

“Fuck, Joe, more, please I need more of you, all of you, I’m so fucking close.”

The hand on his cock pulls away, “not just yet, big guy. Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Uhuh.” He whines, pushing his hips forward to bump his cock along Stern’s hand. 

A light smack on the ass, “behave. Take everything off and wait for me on the bed.”

“Uh huh.” He turns, only for a hand to firmly grasp his chin and force him to stay eye to eye with Stern.

“Try that response again, big guy, with better manners.”

“Y-yes, s-sir, I, I understand.” 

He’s yanked into a demanding, possessive kiss, Stern stroking his cheek approvingly when he releases him, “Good boy. Is this alright?”

“Yes, yesyes, Joe, please, I love it, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, unless you say so. Promise you will if you need to?”

“I swear, cross my heart, babe, please.”

A loving laugh, coupled with a peck on the lips, “bed.”

Barclay strips so quickly he loses his balance, landing on the bed as he fights to pull off his pants. He tries to calm himself by folding his clothes and setting them aside, certain that if he gets more excited he’ll become the first confirmed case of human combustion.

“Hands and knees, please.” 

“Oh fuck me.” 

Stern is standing by the bed, naked from the waist down save for a strap-on, but still in his special agent clothes from the waist up. 

“Do you like the suit, big guy?”

“Yessir.”

“Good to know. Maybe next time I’ll wear the whole thing while I fuck you. Now” he climbs onto the bed, “try to relax for me.”

A condom-covered finger presses against his ass as soon as he’s on his hands and knees, Stern working him open efficiently yet gently until he’s begging for more. Stern ruffles his hair, and then the toy is pushing into him. It’s narrow, so the stretch isn’t too bad, and for a moment he wonders if it will even do much for him. 

“Let me see, if I just-”

“FUCKfuck”  The curve of the toy finds his prostate.

“That’s part of why this is a favorite of mine, it’s so effective” he thrusts harder, “at finding the right spots.”

“Mhhhmmmmm” Barclay bites the pillow to muffle his moans and growls, wiggles his hips as Stern finds his pace. 

“The other reason I like it…”

“SHIT, babe, baby, ohfuck that’s good.” The toy vibrates, sending heat all through him, “fuck, I’m gonna come in like th-thirty seconds from that.”

“Thirty seconds? Let’s see if you’re right, big guy.”

“GaaAAHfuck, Joe, yeah, yeahyesbabeyes.” He gives up on being quiet as the actor rams into him, drops to his elbows when the intensity makes it impossible to anything other than moan and and grunt and take it. 

“That’s it, good boy, let’s see just how hard you are for me” Stern pants as he reaches around, teasing the head of Barclay’s cock, “perfect, you’re doing wonderfully, fuck” a groan of gratification as Barclay spurts across the bed, “messy, god I love making you come apart, even I might make you clean that with you tongue later.”

“Oh god.” Barclay moans, drool staining the pillow, as Stern loops an arm tightly around his waist and grinds, the toy still bumping and rumbling inside his ass.

“Nnn, Barclay, yes, hold out just a little longer, let me get off on this perfect ass.”

Barclay whines, sensitivity overloading his circuits and driving him wild.

“Just a little more big guy, fuck, fuck, lord almighty I’m close, c’mon, you can handle it, you can be good and take me as long as I need.”

“Yes, yes, wanna take you, wanna be yours, wanna serve you.”

“Fuck” Stern doubles over, hips working frantically, “that’s it, good boy, if you’re in this bed you, fuck, your only job is to please me.”

“Yes” Barclay sobs just as Stern moans into his shoulder. When he pulls out, Barclay flops, limp, onto his side. 

“You with me, baby?” Stern wiggles out of the harness, lays so they’re face to face and cups Barclay’s cheek.

“Mmhmm. Fuck” he pulls Stern into a hug, “I can’t believe we just did that. That was fucking amazing.”

“Didn’t take you for the sub type.”

“Everyone always wants me to be big ‘n dommy. Don’t wanna. Wanna be someone’s good boy.” He’s slurring, mind still a bit foggy. 

“You can be mine. In, um in not just a sex way, although it can be just a sex thing if you want it to.”

“Nope” He cuddles him closer, then it hits him, “you’re asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Please?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes” He kisses him after each answer, making them both laugh. 

“It won’t fuck up your work?”

“I’ll ask Mama what she thinks, we might need to transfer the rest of the article to Thacker. Uh, maybe this is silly but, uh, can I take you to dinner? My treat?”

Stern kisses him, stars in his eyes and a hundred watt smile on his face, “that sounds perfect, big guy.”

[edgewaterfarmcsa]

FALL CSA WEEK 6

PICK-LIST

SWEET POTATOES - KALE - LETTUCE - CURLY PARSLEY - DELICATA WINTER SQUASH - BROCCOLI - SAVOY CABBAGE - ORNAMENTAL CORN - FENNEL - BOK CHOY - ROMANESCO - RED POTATOES

Ok, now is the time of year where my emotions can really get the best of me and I become very sentimental.  This week, the better half of our field crew heads home to Jamaica, and it always makes me a little weepy.  Roy, Strong, Ramone, Jasper, and Garnet begin to work with us seasonally starting in May.  Their arrival in the Spring marks the beginning of our full bore growing season.  Together, we plant, weed, pick, and pack, clean, etc… truly embracing the adage, many hands make light work.  And if I knew an old adage about life is better working with people you love, trust, and laugh with, I’d use it here too.  

For me personally, this crew makes it possible to farm and parent at the same time.  Both the fields and the kiddos demand love and attention.  So while Roy, Strong, Ramone, Jasper, and Garnet tend more towards tasks that go into raising good crops, Ray and I (and full disclosure, Grannie Annie (Anne Sprague)) tend more towards the tasks that go into raising (good?) kids.  

Also, if you don’t already know, Roy Mitchell in particular, is key in the success of our CSA.  He shows up every single Wednesday to assist in the CSA box pack-out.  We work together from the start of CSA harvest on Monday to pick-up on Wednesday.  After working together for the past 12 years we’ve got our systems in place with potentially too many jokes thrown in along the way.  Later today, Roy and I will pack his last CSA box for the year with our Wednesday radio station of choice (97.5 fm) to carry us through.  

But it’s mid-November now, and the temps have certainly dropped!  By Thursday night these guys will be back in the tropics quarantining until they can step foot into their own homes and reunite with their own families- giving hugs, eating good goat curry and catching up on life.  Of course traveling during this time (hello pandemic) feels completely complicated and nothing is without risk, but we are taking all the precautions that we can on our end to get them back home safely.  If all goes well- and I have to believe it will- the next 5 or 6 months will move swiftly through winter, into the next growing season and we will all be back in the fields in no time, planting onions, catching up, snacking on donuts, and preparing for the 2021 harvest season.  

LASTLY BEFORE WE GET INTO RECIPES, HOT TIPS, ETC…. 

The final CSA pick up is next week on TUESDAY (this timing should allow for proper Thanksgiving meal prep for all)

HOT TIPS:  

KALE SALAD WITH ROASTED SQUASH AND FENNEL

FROM START SIMPLE

Copyright © 2020 by Lukas Volger. Published by Harper Wave, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. 

The dressing - a mix of maple syrup, lemon juice, and olive oil, plus an optional jolt of ginger- could make anything taste good, and the salad, with its autumnal profile, works just as well in holiday menus as it does in packed weekday lunches… Add some crumbled feta if you’d like a tangy creamy element.

2 cups winter squash cut into bite size pieces

1 to 1 ½ tablespoons maple syrup or honey

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

2 teaspoons finely grated ginger (optional)

Salt & pepper

1 small fennel, cored

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 large bunch of kale (stemmed and torn into bite size pieces

¼ cup crumbled feta cheese (optional)

Preheat the oven to 425.  Spread the squash on a baking sheet, then toss with 1 ½ tablespoons of the olive oil and sprinkle with a big pinch of salt and pepper.  Roast until tender, 15-20 minutes, stirring once or twice.  Cool.

Whisk together the remaining1 ½ tablespoons of olive oil, the lemon juice, maple syrup or honey, and ginger, if using, in a serving bowl.  Cut the fennel into thinnest-possible shavings, preferable using a mandoline or, if not, a very sharp knife.  Add the fennel and squash to the bowl with the dressing and stir to coat.  Let stand for about 5 minutes, which will soften up the fennel, then add the kale and toss with your hands.  Top with cheese if using.  

 BAKED SWEET POTATO CHIPS

FROM START SIMPLE

Copyright © 2020 by Lukas Volger. Published by Harper Wave, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. 

 2 medium sweet potatoes

1 teaspoon flaky sea salt

2 tablespoons olive oil

pinch crushed red pepper flakes

Zest of 1 lime 

Preheat the oven to 425.  

Using a mandoline, or if you don’t have one, a chef’s knife, slice the sweet potatoes into rounds about ¼ inch thick.  Place in a large bowl, add the oil, and stir to coat evenly.  Arrange on a baking sheet in the best single layer you can manage, then transfer to the oven and bake for 10 minutes.  Stir and flip, then return to the overn and bake for 5 to 10 minutes more, until most of the chips are crisp and browned (some take on some black spots; thats fine!).  Watch carefully towards the end, as they darken quickly.  

 In a small bowl, mix together the salt and red pepper flakes.  Sprinkle over the sweet potatoes chips and zest lime over everything.  Serve while they’re still warm.  These are best when eaten within a few hours.  

 roasted broccoli/romanesco 

FROM START SIMPLE

Copyright © 2020 by Lukas Volger. Published by Harper Wave, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

JENNY’S NOTE:  I don’t know why it took me so long in life to cook broccoli in the oven (vs. steaming).  I feel like I’ve been shown the light, and I am so excited to grow old and spend the next 37 years (more? less?) roasting broccoli.  It’s Perfect.  

 Broccoli/Romanesco

freshly ground black pepper

olive oil

Salt

Preheat the oven to 400*

Working close to the stem, cut or snap off large bunches of florets of broccoli or romanesco.  Depending on their size, halve or quarter them so that you’ve got a flat surface or two.  For the broccoli, use a vegetable peeler or baring knife to remove the thick fibrous skin around the stem, then cut the peeled stem into pieces the same thickness as the florets.

 Divide the vegetable between the two baking sheets, then drizzle generously with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and black pepper.  Toss to evenly coat, then transfer to the oven and roast until tender and caramelized in parts, 20 to 30 minutes, stirring and rotating the pans once halfway through.  

 Jenny’s note on start simple by lukas volger:  

I can not stress enough how helpful this book has been when it comes to easy GOOD meals.  And it highlights all the food that we tend to have so much of this time of year: squash, sweet potatoes, kale, and cabbage.  This would be a great addition to your cookbook collection to get you through the year.  Nope this is not a paid advertisement- I'm just a lover of this book and it complements a CSA season all too well.  I also feel the same way about TENDER by Nigel Slater.  If anyone needs any more cook recs, reach out, apparently I’ve just deemed myself an expert.    

 BOK CHOY: 

I am a forever lover of this crisp asian green.  Goes great in stir fries, soups, salads, etc.. 

LETTUCE:

You might come across some browning on the bottom (it was picked on Saturday due to cold nights ahead). This lettuce will continue to stay fresh for a while, just cut back the bottom butt and outer leaves if need be.

[purplesurveys]

722

How many walls are in your bedroom? It’s your typical four-wall bedroom. What do you think about Fall Out Boy? I like their older stuff and my favorite album of theirs is Folie à Deux by a mile. Haven’t been able to keep up much with their new material, but I definitely don’t hate the stuff they’ve been putting out. Do you know where Guatemala is? I wouldn’t know where to find it on a map but I know it’s somewhere in the middle of North and South America? At least I’m pretty sure? Do you find musicians attractive? I mean being a musician isn’t necessarily a criterion for me to be attracted to someone, but sure I’ve come across good-looking musicians in the past. Do you like hard boiled eggs? They’re okay but I like soft-boiled more.

Do you know anyone named Hector? Nope. Would you move to another country for the one you love? We’ve had this conversation before and she has vehemently scolded me when I said that I honestly would, but idk that’s me. Then again, we’ve never been in that situation so I don’t really know how I’d actually act when it came to that. Do you own an instrument? We have a keyboard, but it’s for everyone’s use. I don’t own any of my own. What do you usually have for lunch? Ever since the quarantine started my family has only been having very late breakfast and dinner, so I’ve technically been skipping lunch for over a month now. But before this whole thing started my lunch would typically be whatever my mom can cook, which is pretty limited – fried chicken, sisig, and giniling with varied soups are her usuals, if I remember right. Ever had a pregnancy scare? I would have absolutely no reason to have one. What do you think about the Purple People Eater? I’ve never heard of this before. What the hell is that looool Are you pale or tan? Tan. What's the weather like right now? It’s windy, just a tad chilly, and comfortable enough during the night which I’m thankful for, but the days are excruciatingly hot. Sometimes it’ll be very humid and the air becomes too heavy and difficult to breathe in, and it usually means it will rain that night, but that’s seldom. I get headaches almost everyday now because of the rapid temperature changes, and it suuuucks because we’ve run out of Biogesic in the house. Do you like cats? No. We have such different personalities and I can tell all of the ones I’ve encountered don’t like me. But for the next few days I’ll probably have a brief soft spot for cats because my sister’s cat, Arlee, passed away last Sunday. We were never close and her tail always got bushy whenever she saw me, but it was the first time I had to deal with a pet cat dying and I was still pretty shattered by it. What's the best part about Wal*Mart? I dunno, I can’t relate. Do you think Akon is amazing or annoying? I think neither of him. I mostly don’t mind him. Do you like the buzz cigarettes give you? I’ve... never gotten a ~buzz from them before? Am I smoking wrong? Lmao. But uh idk it’s weirdly pleasurable overall, and now I’m ever so slightly disgusted with myself for even being able to say that now. Are you a practical joker? Nope, I hate pranks. Do you like pop? This is slang for soda right? No I don’t. I feel like my tongue is being cut off every time I try it out and that always ruins the whole experience for me. What are you looking forward to? Eating the box of sushi sitting beside me. Angela surprised me for my birthday and had the sushi delivered to my house :) Have you ever laughed so hard you couldn't breathe? I’m sure most of us have. What's your favorite band? This question has been everywhere recently. I like Paramore the most but just so I give a different answer for once, I also enjoy alt-J. Do you feel stupid when you spill things on yourself? My mom has conditioned me to think this way, so yes. I feel pretty stupid when I drop or spill anything. Are you excited for summer? In the current global situation? It’s hard to feel excited for anything, especially when experts have recommended closing everything down until at least August. Have you ever snuck out? No. My mom would’ve found out easily. It’s always easier to ask for permission cause she’s never said no anyway. When's the last time you were kissed? :( A month and two weeks. Would you ever eat popcorn & salsa? I’ve never tried them together; I think it’d be a weird combination plus salsa already isn’t my dip of choice anyway. Do you sleep with the television on? Nah but close. I’ll sometimes sleep with Netflx or YouTube playing on my phone, depending on what I feel like listening to before falling asleep. Would you ever want to be able to be invisible? I’ll fantasize about it sometimes, sure. What does your favorite shirt look like? Don’t have a current favorite shirt since I can’t go out anyway. What's your favorite scent? Gabie’s perfume or any freshly cooked food. Skype, Msn, Aim, or Yahoo? All of these are pretty much ancient now. What's your favorite time of the day? These days I’m really loving these hours in particular – midnight onwards. It’s nice to finally be alone considering I’m cooped up in a house with family literally all day, and it’s nice to use the alone time listening to lo-fi and answering a survey or two. Do you hate the phrase ''love ya'' when coming from a boyfriend/girlfriend? Yeah it wouldn’t sit well with me if it came from Gabie. But I say this regularly to my friends. What do you do when someone in the room has b.o.? Look away if I’m forced to be with them, or just move away altogether if I’m not talking to them directly. What movie would you like to see right now? Not really in a movie watching mood rn. I just watched Two for the Road a couple of nights ago and that’s enough for me, hahaha. How many times a day do you shower? Just once. What do you think of the name Chloe? It’s cute! It’s already common where I live so it’s not one of my top baby name choices, but I really love the name and I think this spelling in particular is cute. Do you like Hollister? When I was 14, sure. I was mostly invested in them because Louis Tomlinson of 1D’s girlfriend used to be a Hollister model HAHAHAHA. These days I largely don’t care for the brand. What's your favorite alcoholic drink? I always go for a Long Island Iced Tea whenever they have it on a menu. Do you like 80's music? Like, 0.0003% of it. Just not my decade for music. Do you have to wear glasses or have contacts? I wear glasses. I choose not to wear contacts. Do you play Halo or Gears of War? No for both. How do you feel about cleaning? I think it’s...necessary lol? I don’t really actively feel anything for it, other than it has to be done every now and then. What do you think of emo kids? I think we should leave ‘em be. Do you like the movie Grease? I don’t like musicals. Do you like singing? Only by myself or if I’m absolutely shitfaced drunk.

What's your favorite Jim Carrey movie? Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, WITHOUT A DOUBT. There's a knock at your door at 4 in the morning; what do you do? Welp, given that there’s been a recent disturbance in our village where a construction worker broke into a neighbor’s home, I’ll probably be more wary this time around and just ignore it. I’ll stay alert for a few minutes to see whether they start breaking in after being ignored or simply walk away so that I’m ready to wake up my parents and start screaming if they do the former. Do you like peaches? I hate all fruits. Ever lost a best friend? Not to death, but I’ve drifted apart from a best friend.

Ever heard of a town called Wadena? No. Only Wakanda, heh. Have you ever been to a funeral? I’ve never been to a funeral; I’ve only visited wakes. We were pretty sheltered when it came to death and I would dread the day I’d have to go to my first funeral because I don’t know if I’d be capable of processing the events. What's your favorite sport? Pro wrestling if it counts. If it doesn’t, tennis is my favorite to watch while table tennis is my favorite to play. What do you think about homeschooling? Egh the homeschooled kids where I live always turn out to be a bit weird or not very sociable, so I’m kinda biased against it. I don’t know if homeschooling in other countries can say the same, though. What do you think about French people? I don’t think anything of them. Thankful for their pain au chocolat though. Do you like your parents? Yes. They’ve worked harder than anyone I know to get to where they are now and to be able to provide as much as they have for their three kids. I respect them tremendously for that. I just wish we were more open and expressive and affectionate as a family in general; that would literally solve like 9732 of my problems. And I also wish that my mom wasn’t verbally abusive at times. What do you think about Minnesota? OMG nothing, stop. Do/did you like high school? It had its ups and downs. I’m mostly in the middle about it, like I can’t say I enjoyed it cause then that would betray the things I hated about it, and I can’t say I mostly hated it cause that would invalidate the good times. I did learn a lot though, that I can say for sure. Do you have any Asian friends? All of my friends are Asian. Is it cold where you live? Not even barely. Do you find accents attractive? No. I find most of them difficult to follow which is why I always need subtitles when I view anything foreign haha. Do you hate it when people make spelling mistakes? No, unless they act like a know-it-all but still fuck up their spelling. Would you ever let your boyfriend/girlfriend do your makeup? I would DEFINITELY let them do my makeup – she’d be the first person I would run to hahaha because I don’t know the first thing about applying makeup. Do you like to shop? Not like every week, but it is fun to fall down the rabbit hole and start grabbing clothes heh. How long are you on the computer during a 24 hour period? These days I’m not on it for long, which I’m really happy about! When the lockdown started I was really worried that I was gonna be too dependent on my laptop and never close it for the entire quarantine period, but the opposite has been happening. I really just open it in the evening when I take surveys, so that’s around 3-4 hours. Is money really that important? It is for me, and for everyone else in this third world Southeast Asian country. Have you ever broken a bone? Nope. Who is your favorite family member? My dog. What size bed do you have? Just a twin size, nothing special. Can’t wait to earn on my own and buy me a much bigger mattress. What age do you want to be married? Late 20s, if possible. I want to be ready for kids by the time I hit my 30s.   What's the last thing your wrote? A Facebook message for Gabie. What do you think of your town? It’s mostly uneventful here, but I think I prefer living in a calm city cause I suppose it would be exhausting living in a city that’s so hectic all the time. My situation also gives me a healthy balance of busy and quiet which I think has helped my wellbeing. When's the last time you played hide & go seek? Years and years and years ago. I think it was when we first moved into the house and it was still mostly empty.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Any Other Tuesday (ch3, baon)

Summary:   It started the same as any other Tuesday

Tags: Spicyhoney, Original Undertale Characters, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Prejudice Against Monsters, Violence, Injury

part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Notes: You guys have been watching the tags on this one, right? Okay, then, let’s go.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Any college student in Ebott could tell you that Golden City was the best place for Chinese in town. They served obscene portion sizes of delicious food, at a price that kept them very busy throughout the week. Despite that, they didn’t have to wait long after they walked in the door. A tiny Asian woman in a large apron came up to them almost immediately, chattering away as she gestured for them to follow.

Stretch prattled along with her, not a single word that Jeff could understand. Possibly Mandarin? He didn’t know. Neither Edge nor Antwan seemed surprised by this turn of events, only following her to a corner table where they were promptly sat.

“i’ve got a standing reservation here,” Stretch leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “featured them on my twitter once and the owner loved it. course, the edgelord here doesn’t like to eat out that much, so i mostly use it for lunch.”

“Eating out is perfectly fine for an indulgence, not as a daily practice,” Edge told him. He was trying to surreptitiously wipe the table with one of the napkins. It looked perfectly clean to Jeff, but he didn’t ask, and when Stretch absently picked up his water glass and the soy sauce bottle on his side of the table so that Edge could wipe beneath it, Jeff automatically did the same with the little basket of sweeteners and the salt shaker.

Cleaning off the table, no matter how unnecessary, seemed to calm Edge somewhat. He allowed Stretch to take one of his gloved hands, twining their fingers together. Beneath the table, Antwan did the same, closing his warm hand over Jeff’s, his thumb stroking the smooth skin of his wrist, and Jeff felt like his heart might burst.

No menus appeared but that didn’t seem to matter. Hot tea was on the table in minutes and not long after there were plates loaded with food, bowls filled with rice, all wedged together on the table between water glasses and sauces, piled together family-style.

Thinking of that way pinched, a little, but…yeah, they were good friends, the best of. Jeff didn’t think Stretch would mind if he thought of them as family.

It was fun. Stretch was just…Stretch, but Edge showed more than a few glimpses of the bone-dry sense of humor that Jeff knew lurked beneath the surface of his scowling veneer. There was plenty of food; sesame noodles and fried wontons, vegetable stir fry and egg foo young. Antwan and Stretch battled with chopsticks over the last egg roll, neither of them noticing until it was too late that Edge stole it out from under them, and Jeff couldn’t stop laughing at their outraged expressions while Edge smugly chewed.

There was more tea and laughter, and by the time they were splitting up the fortune cookies, the Great Action Figure Catastrophe was mostly out of his mind.

“okay, okay, let’s see what i got,” Stretch broke open his cookie, absently munching on a piece as he unfolded his fortune. “’the early bird gets the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese’,” he read, then scowled. “that’s not a fortune, that’s a proverb. bleh.” He crumbled it up and tossed it on the table. “what did you get, babe?”

“It says my lucky numbers are 7, 14, 26, 32, 47, and 59,” Edge said, so seriously that at first Jeff didn’t see the sparkle in his eye lights.

“turn it over, asshole,” Stretch sighed, “come on!”

“Ah, there it is,” Edge squinted at the tiny print. “Hm, it says a beautiful, smart, and funny person will be coming in to my life.”

“that one’s a little late.”

“It is,” Edge said agreeably. He set the broken bits of his cookie on Stretch’s plate, where they were promptly consumed. “Once they find me, I’ll have to explain to them that I already married you.”

Stretch choked on his last bite, chewing furiously before reaching over to give Edge a rough shove.

“you shit,” Stretch said fondly, and didn’t resist when Edge took hold of his hand, drawing it up to press a kiss against his knuckles.

“You see?” Edge murmured against the delicate bones. “This is why no one should set their path to the declarations of baked goods.”

Antwan only shook his head and opened his. “’To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing’.”

“must be why people are always bitching at you, antwan, you don’t do any of those.”

“I’m a lawyer, I thrive on criticism,” Antwan said easily. He gave Jeff a nudge with his elbow. “All right, what about you?”

Jeff broke the cookie over his plate to keep the crumbs from scattering, unfolding his fortune.

Don’t worry about money, the best things in life are free.

He only realized he was staring at it for too long when Stretch said, cautiously, “andy? you okay?”

“Um, yeah.” He crumpled it up, tossing it on the table. “I’m going to hit the restroom before we take off, be right back.”

He didn’t wait for anyone to say anything, pushing back his chair and heading towards the long hallway that led to the toilets. They were meant for a single person and he went in gratefully, locking the door behind him. Inside, he ignored the toilet with its little basket of potpourri on the tank and went to the sink. Splashing cold water on his face helped ease the stinging heat and he braced his hands on the sides, breathing deeply as the water trickled down his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” he told himself, “It’s okay, they don’t mind.” Yeah, didn’t mind that he was a fucking freeloader, all starting with his student loans getting paid off for the low, low price of being a decent person.

Jeff sighed, yanking a few paper towels from the holder and drying his face. They really didn’t care, he honestly knew it. Knowing it didn’t make him feel better, though, and the food was sitting heavy in his belly when he opened the door…and almost ran headfirst into Antwan.

“You were taking a while. You feeling okay?" His dark eyes searched Jeff’s face with visible concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine,” Jeff summoned up a smile, settling a hand on Antwan’s chest before he asked lightly, “So, am I headed back to your place with you tonight?”

He knew the answer before Antwan said a word, the apologetic expression that crossed his face said it all, and his hopes fell.

“I can’t tonight, I’m heading out as soon as we’re done with dinner. We have a big court case coming up and I need to polish my opening statement.” He glanced out of the hallway and whatever he saw must’ve satisfied him because he leaned in to nuzzle a soft kiss at the base of Jeff’s throat, soft and teasing. “You’re too much of a distraction to have laying around.”

"Aww, not even a cuddle at bedtime?” Jeff tried. Going home alone tonight sounded like a misery. if he could just sleep in Antwan’s bed, wake up in the middle of the night and know someone was sleeping beside him, maybe—

Antwan only shook his head. "I’m not very good at only cuddling around you. Better not to have the temptation.”

His fragile soap bubble hopes popped just like that and Jeff nodded, keeping his smile firmly pasted in place. But some of his disappointment must’ve shown, because Antwan’s reached up and cupped his face in one hand.

“What about this weekend?” Antwan suggested. “Stay over Saturday night and Sunday morning we can sleep in.”

It was a good compromise, a few nights on his own to earn a morning in Antwan’s bed. “I like the sound of that. Come on, before they send out a search party.”

Stretch and Edge were waiting when they came out, bags of leftovers sitting in wait. The bill was on the table, signed in Edge’s precise hand and Jeff couldn’t help looking, wincing as he saw the total. The bags only made it worse and he couldn’t decide if he should carry one to help out or leave it so it didn’t look like he was claiming it as his own. Antwan and Edge took the choice out of his hands, gathering up the bags between them.

Whatever cheerful farewell Stretch called to their hostess got him a chorus of the same from the kitchen, the entire staff waving as they went out in the cool night air. It was almost dark, the sun just dipping below the horizon.

“is all that gonna fit in that suitcase you call a trunk?” Stretch asked. He was lighting a cigarette almost before they were out the door, deliberately walking ahead of them so he couldn’t see Edge’s scowl.

“There is nothing wrong with my trunk,” Edge said coolly. The bag rustled at his side, almost creaking from its burden as he walked a little faster. “At least my car fits four people, unlike someone else.”

“Don’t be shitting on my car, it didn’t do anything to you,” Antwan grumbled.

“Oh, please, I have serious car envy from both of you,” Jeff said, wryly. That much he could admit, couldn’t he? “Someday, I’m going to own a car like yours. Or maybe a car at all.”

“nothing wrong with the bus,” Stretch said loftily. He danced nimbly aside as Edge tried to pluck away his cigarette. How he moved that quickly without actually shortcutting, Jeff did not know, but somehow he was suddenly on the other side of their little group, taking a hasty drag as Edge stalked him determinedly.

“Yeah, but you only take it to prevent vehicular homicide,” Antwan said with a snort.

“please, it would be manslaughter at best…okay, okay, i’m done with it, edgelord, fuck me.” He tossed the butt down, grinding it out under his sneaker and retrieving the squashed remains to toss in a nearby trash can.

Edge watched Stretch a moment longer, until he was sure the lighter wasn’t making a reappearance, then said, "Jeff, if you’d like, you can drive mine for the ride home.”

That made him stop, staring at Edge in disbelief. Edge’s car was gorgeous, sleek and cherry-red, and probably way out of Jeff’s lifetime budget. "Seriously?”

“Of course.” Edge pulled out his keys and started to hand them over, then drew them back inches from Jeff’s hand. "You can, I assume?"

“Yeah, yeah, of course I can!" Jeff laughed. He snatched the keys as they were offered to him again with a whoop of joy. Fuck it, if nothing else, he could enjoy driving an awesome car, even if it wasn’t his own.

Edge always parked in the back of any lot, away from the crowd of other cars. Jeff ran ahead, all his attention on that gorgeous cherry-red paint job and it had been a while since he’d driven, sure, but he wasn’t worried. Maybe this was only an excuse for Edge and Stretch to make out in the backseat, but Jeff didn’t care. This was going to be awesome.

When he tried to remember what happened later, nothing stood out. He saw them standing there, sure, but didn't think anything of it, why would he? It was barely nine o'clock and Ebott was a nice town. Three men in t-shirts and work boots, nothing remarkable about them, standing around on the sidewalk with cigarettes in hand. It was about as normal as could be.

That one of them swung into his path only brought surprise, not fear, and Jeff nearly ran into him, apologies automatically coming to his lips, “Oh, sorry about—"

He broke off, couldn’t even cry out at the sudden shock of tearing pain.

“That's what you get, monster fucker." The face so close to his own was unshaven, bloodshot eyes boring into his own. His breath was rank with alcohol, sickeningly thick, and he spit when he talked, a fine spray of foulness against Jeff's face.

Past that first jagged thrust of excruciating pain, it didn't even really hurt, not at first. Like a weak punch, once, twice, three times, against his belly, and then Jeff staggered back, away from the man, who had tiny blossoms of bright red suddenly speckling his white t-shirt. Jeff looked down, saw the handle sticking out and all he could think was that it didn't belong there. He fumbled at it with numb fingers that turned crimson and slippery when he touched it.

Later, he would think how strange it was that everything was sort of blurred in his memory, but he could still remember some detail vividly. There was shouting, cursing, screaming, but none of it was him. He only stood, wavering on his feet and staring at the redness dripping from his hands.

He stabbed me, Jeff realized numbly, I’m bleeding. It was a knife handle, the knife was still in him, and there was the pain, sharp and wrong and terrible. He opened his mouth to cry out and couldn’t, warm copper choking him, blood bubbling out from between his lips.

The screaming cut off abruptly into a new, terrible silence broken only by scuffling against pavement, but Jeff was sliding to his knees in slow motion, falling back on the sidewalk. There was a street light over him, pouring harsh fluorescents down in a glaring circle.

"Jeff?" Antwan was suddenly there, the light behind his head cast his face in shadow, but Jeff could still see his eyes, so wide the whites showed all the way around, "Jeff? Baby? Fuck, oh, god, oh fuck—“

He's never called me that, Jeff thought hazily, reaching up to touch him but his hands were bloody, couldn’t touch him with dirty, bloody hands, tried to pull away. Antwan grabbed his hand anyway, the wetness squelching between their palms, and that was blood, his blood, he was bleeding.

More scuffling sounds and feet appeared next to him in worn converse with untied laces dragging in the dirt.

"edge, let them breathe. if you kill them, the paperwork will never end." Each word was bitten off with sharp precision, colder than he’d ever heard Stretch talk. “antwan, i need you to move, pal. come on, we need to hurry. give me your jacket.”

The knife handle vanished beneath Antwan’s jacket spread over him, and Stretch was crouching next to him now, his bones stark in the garish streetlight. His eye lights glowed fiercely in his sockets, no, it was only one eye light, strobing orange with seizure-inducing intensity.

“jeff? jeff, look at me, kid." No, not, Jeff, Stretch never called him Jeff. He was Andy, Handy Andy. Jeff tried to correct him and coughed, gagging on the thick taste of iron in his throat. “i need you to listen to me, okay? i’m gonna help you, but the police are on their way and we can't have this much blood and no one hurt, do you understand?"

Police, yes, he could hear sirens, distant still but getting closer.

“Stretch, you need to hurry.” Edge’s voice was further away, oddly strained.

"i know.” He leaned in close, whispering softly, “don't worry, kiddo, you're going to be all right. I promise."

I promise. It sounded so fierce, no hilarious little pinkie swear, but more like a vow, an unbroken oath.

The feel of long, bony fingers sliding under his shirt was impossibly ticklish, strange to feel anything outside of the pain. They were cool against his skin, then suddenly they weren’t, warming, almost painfully hot. From beneath the jacket came an eerie, greenish glow, mostly stifled but Jeff couldn’t look away from it, mesmerized. It went brighter, streaming out through the sleeves and the seams. The pain receded some, draining into that heat, swirling away and leaving a strange weakness behind. Until that faded, too, and the glow dimmed to nothingness.

Suddenly, Jeff could breathe much easier again; his mouth still tasted foul, but it was easier. Next to him, Antwan leaned in close, gathering up Jeff’s hand again. His knuckles were grimy even in the streetlight, rusty with drying blood.

“there you go.” Stretch wobbled where he was crouching, falling to his knees on the sidewalk. Sweat was beading on his skull, running down his face in translucent orange rivulets and his eye lights were back to their normal pale, soft white. “it's all good, kid, just like i said. go to sleep now, all right? we'll be there when you wake up.”

He pulled his hands out from beneath the coat and tossed something aside. It was the knife, Jeff realize distantly, it wasn’t in him anymore. “antwan, here, you need to keep pressure on this still.” And when he didn’t move, Stretch grabbed his hand impatiently. “come on, help out here. jeff’s gonna be okay.”

"Supposed to call me Andy," Jeff mumbled. It still hurt, but not as bad, a tooth-ache sort of throbbing in his gut as Antwan did as he was told and pushed the bunched-up fabric of his jacket down where only moments ago his blood was spilling out.

Stretch let out a tired chuckle. "sorry, running jokes were disrupted by injury. okay, andy, go to sleep, yeah?”

It was hard to resist that order, darkness dragging at him even as the sirens soared in volume, other voices raised around them. Two hands were holding his own, uncaring of the mess. One was bony and hard, but comfortingly warm and the other gripped almost too hard, trembling in his grip.

I’m okay, he tried to say but the words didn’t come. Instead, his eyes drifted closed on their own and the darkness pulled him down.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Four

[bites-kms]

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!

[sohaveyoubeento-blog]

V is for Vietnamese & Vintage

Us three ladies had always played it pretty safe by way of our lunch dates. Not to say the local deli isn't absolutely kick ass - it's very tasty and very enjoyable every time we go, but in much the same way as I struggle to go to the same country more than once on my holidays (excluding India, you can never have enough India) I couldn't help but think that life's a bit too short to sit in the same eatery every time we meet for lunch, given that the whole day is ours, and within reason, travel is no issue.

The three of us decided that we would try different cuisines every week, and with the girls (Laura and Dani) living in the quieter, leafier suburbs of Otley and Burley in Wharfedale, with me (Alex) living in what I frequently describe as the bronx, 5 minutes from central Leeds but gloriously populated by some of the best food joints in the country (confirmed) they usually end up meeting at mine and then we go into town to try somewhere a bit off the beaten track. Invariably, being three mums of young children, we eat at the speed of rabid dogs and end up having a bit of time to go explore some local weird shop or two, never anything mainstream like a department store. Oh no. We like vintage shops. You know the type, they smell like damp and the inside of your nan's wardrobe, and we prance around pretending to overlook the fact that we are just in a well laid out, slightly more selective charity shop without the undertone of giving. Usually there's some blue haired student with a headscarf and a faint stench of Bobby Orange pawing through piles of shirts and jumpers that are deemed as retro, when they've actually some of them originated in C&A - we remember that place the first time round,depressingly. The whole vintage scene is a bit ironic and try hard and a bit sad at times, but the one thing that it does offer is the piece you are often looking at, generally is one of one only in the store. The same goes for charity shops, generally. We like stuff that can't be bought in bulk.

Dani owns Deluxe Blooms, and is a luxury faux florist, and very good at it too. Laura is a nail technician and spray tanning afficionado, and the owner of Maibella Nails and Tanning. I own a salon called Lexa Hair, and the three of us work together frequently. The ridiculous thing is though, that work is going really well for us, and while in the past we may have dug around in charity shops for a bargain simply to be economical, now it has begun more of a habit. And you know what they say, old habits die hard. We don't have to eat streetfood on picnic tables anymore, and we can shop anywhere we want, but at least just for me, I don't like extravagance and I'm not impressed by labels or price tags. I like pieces that are unique,with a story behind them. My two accomplices sort of get dragged in to it I think, but they seem on board with most of it. I hope.

And street food is the best food on earth, everyone knows that.

We kicked things off with a visit to a fairly new (maybe a year old I think) Vietnamese place on North Lane in Headingley named VietBaker. Inside it's very wooden looking, quite industrial and urban, stained wood everywhere and dark red leather chairs. It smells like the rice cooker that's chugging away in the corner, mixed with plenty of garlic and of course, the fresh baguettes that are stacked up in a glass cabinet above the front desk.

We opted for a sharing platter for £9, and from the menu us Yorkshire ruffians requested spring rolls (the deep fried ones, not the fresh, healthy ones obviously), prawn toast, and 'rustic chips'.

This was skin on chips with salt and pepper (well cooked and so tasty) and the prawn toast was understandably made of baguette slices. It made for a much heavier slab of prawn toast and therefore an even more unhealthy treat but man alive, was it good. The spring rolls were pork, prawn and the usual crispy vegetables inside. Not floppy or soggy, totally crispy and served with a really light and watery sweet chilli dip that's more sweet than chilli. It was all very lovely.

I've personally eaten from here a number of times and I think the Vietnamese have got it absolutely nailed when they make sandwich. Or a Ban Mih. Laura and I opted for one each, chicken for her and pork for me. Dani went for something off the new part of the menu, the fusion section, which even featured a take on beef bourgignon, Vietnamese style. She tried the Shanghai pork belly, served with rice. Her whole bowl was piled high, and we're not talking a polite, peanuts size bowl. More like a ‘free ceramic crunchy nut cereal box’ bowl, with the with tokens on the back of the pack, that you’d send off as a kid. It was huge. The second bowl was just plain rice, which worked really well as the pork alone was…. alot. It was sticky and tangy and rich and all those other wanky words that just mean amazing. I'm trying so hard to limit the wankiness. I like writing and eating, combining the two is hard work though. Bear with me. The slow cooked pork made me feel a bit gutted I went for a sandwich until I got stuck in.

Vietnam was a former French colony, and much like their neighbour Cambodia, found their local best offerings being bastardised to accomodate the 'local palate'. The nice version is that the baguette was the French's gift to the Vietnamese, although I imagine it was more a case of 'put your lovely meal in my baguette for me or you're in deep shit.'

I've never been to Vietnam but having visited Cambodge a few summers back, I remember being astounded at the gorgeous, light, dairy free Asian cuisine that had been shoved in a crusty, warm baguette. Whoever's story was true, it's the absolute bollocks.

They cut this freshly baked baguette open and spread it with patè on one side and on the other mayonnaise (already weird but hang in there) - add a ton of crispy green leaves, cucumber, pickles, coriander and fresh chilies, and add some meat into what little room is left. Enough meat to give you meat sweats. It. Is. Superb.

The pork was very finely sliced, dark and sticky again (here she goes) and you can bang on a fried egg, too, if you're an absolute wrong un. No thanks.

Laura had the chicken which was a milder flavour but none the less tasty and flavoursome. I noticed Laura pulling bits off her sandwich and delicately chewing away at them, while I picked it up and ate it like I'd been sleeping in the dark arches for the last month. I even had to be asked to wipe my face. Sorry, not sorry. No messing with a Ban Mih. Especially not this one.

The bill was a very respectable £11 a head, and they threw in a free set of spring rolls for us, which was a nice unexpected surprise. The place had a steady flow of traffic, and although wasn't packed, I've been on an evening and I think it's safe to assume that's the bulk of their trade. It was fantastic food, very reasonable and highly recommended. Great staff and great location. We'll be back!

Afterwards we drove for about 3 days to find a parking spot anywhere near Hyde Park, so we could check out the newly (ish) renovated (OK sign replaced and possibly ownership changed) Vintage something or other in Hyde Park.

I forget the name, and if I'm brutally honest I can see why. It's alright, but it used to be alot better. The last time I went in there was alot of very old apothecary style wooden drawer units, some weird taxidermy, and unusual pictures in frames that would look incredible in the lounge. This time there was quite a bit of formica, and some hideously orange stained TV units that I guess in some context would be deemed as cool again.

The music collection seemed to be where the most effort had been made. The clothing was actually quite 'quirky' in the sense that you wouldn't actually wear alot of it, there was a whole department that seemed to have been handed over by the owner of the late knob head Jimmy Saville, shell suit after shell suit in every colour of the rainbow, in that non breathable fabric you'd get a two man tent in. Hideous. Still, there are some absolute finds in there. I would encourage people to bear in mind that these shops have a high stock turnaround and in their uniqueness, and ability to replace items based on sales, any vintage shop can be a complete bag of shite one week and a total gold mine the next. Its the luck of the drawer, I love that about them. That and the fact that we call them vintage shops. The three of us refer to them as shit shops, but potato patato.

I find it depressing that as I mentioned before, alot of the 'retro' stuff is just normal stuff we, in our 30s, encountered in our youth. There was a 'vintage phone' that was £15 and I'm pretty sure my gran has it now. It's literally a BT £10 phone still in argos, but clearly it had lived with a heavy smoker, adding to the aged facade.

Some of it was very authentic, some of it was broken crap, but the general feel of the place is a good one. There is more 70s stuff than anything else which is quite cool, but like I say, stock changes very frequently. Dani bought an oversized T shirt with a University football team logo emblazoned across it, and to be honest I would have too. There was a vast array of university related large varsity based sweaters, some unnecessarily cut in half width ways (why?!!!! Serves no purpose now, you fools) and that's the kind of thing I would have liked to look at. But as I was in charge of a one year old who was bombing around the floor, doubling as a human sweeping brush and coming back with more dust on him than the inside of the V6 after the attic stairs have been tackled, I gave it up as a bad job and put my bank card back away. No spending for mum today. Gutted.

The shop is pretty fabulous, on the whole. They do know how to charge when it comes to furniture, but the clothing is far more reasonable. It's not all one off pieces, a couple of items make an appearance a few times and that kind of ruins it for me, I start picturing some huge factory in China making hideously outdated clothing and leaving them in a damp garage for a few years, chucking a bit of tea down them and wearing the cuffs and collars down, before exporting the newly knackered pieces to us dumbasses in our 'quirky vintage shops'. Who knows. It's well laid out, and pretty cool, and although not my favourite, I imagine the next time I go it'll be a whole different experience. Swings and roundabouts with these places. It was an interesting look, and if Parker hadn't been doing his best ferret impression I would have definitely bought a jumper. Well worth a look.

Until next week!

Laura, Dani and Alex X

VietBaker, Headingley

https://www.thevietbaker.co.uk

Vintage Boutique, Hyde Park

https://vintageboutique.com

[robertemeryofficial]

Angsana Velavaru - the Maldives island masquerading as a Steinway

A piano is a bit like a car. You can spend one hundred thousand hard to counterfeit pieces of paper on a Rolls Royce or a Steinway grand piano, or you can spend one thousand on an old Chappell upright or Nissan Sunny. Both should do the job, but both offer the user a very different experience. Holidaying in the Maldives is the same, with the difference that you can usually test drive the car or piano before you give away your hard earned cash. A holiday is a leap of faith, trusting in the myriad of reviews on Trip Advisor and online photos. So after much debate in the Emery household, we decided Angsana Velavaru was the chosen one.

I’ve been to the Maldives three times in the past eight years, and each time I needed something different. The first time I was a Maldives virgin, so I didn’t know what I wanted. The second time I’m told by Mrs E that we were on a ‘Baby Moon’ (and if you don’t know what that is, nor do I…), and this time was our much-needed family holiday with three-year-old Master T.

Most peoples reaction when I mention a toddler visiting this set of 100-or-so islands in the Indian Ocean is ‘what about all that water, isn’t it dangerous?’, ‘there is nothing to do, you’ll all be bored!’ or ‘isn’t the journey to long?’ Yes, the journey is long from London’s ever-glamorous Gatwick airport, but the other two points are just stupid. I’ve yet to meet a toddler who is silly enough to wade into the sea of their own accord and keep walking until their parents finally notice and scream. As for boredom, imagine a place with no cars to be careful of, actually no vehicles whatsoever - so your little one can roam as free as a bird, safe and relaxed. A place where wild Stingrays visit for a little food once in a while. A place where you can walk from your villa, outside in the sand and heat, to breakfast, lunch and dinner, knowing you don’t need to keep quiet in any corridors. A beach which is so empty you don’t need to send a flair to find little Jonny amongst the thousand other sun-tanners. Yes, if you find the right island, the Maldives is the perfect family holiday. My only issue was that Angsana Velavaru was far less than perfect.

A two-week stay (excluding flights) in a Deluxe Beachfront Pool Villa at this five-star resort will set you back around $16,000 (USD). You could own a whole fleet of the wonderful Nissan Sunny for that amount. And sometimes, unfortunately, it felt a similar standard. It was usual for the public washrooms to have no hand towels. The minibar was restocked with the same regularity of the trains in the UK, and the same goes for the toiletries in the villa. You go into a bar or restaurant, and for some reason, the staff only ever gave me a menu; either it seems that a man should order for his wife, or they have not printed enough menus - neither of which are good reasons, especially as we are not in the 19th century. Talking about the bars, you go in as a family, order a bottle of water, and for some reason which I just cannot figure out, the staff never, ever provided Master T with a glass to drink from; and if you order a cocktail expect it to arrive anywhere between 5 and 20 minutes, again a bit like our trains. If you booked an activity, it’s not unusual for the real time of the activity to differ from the one advertised. Book a table in the over-water restaurant Azzurro, and although the food is absolutely delicious, your toddler will have to eat sitting on your lap, as they have a rarity of high-chairs. And be careful, although I’m not anti-smoking, there are no dedicated areas for smokers to enjoy themselves without inflicting their habit onto others; even in the restaurant whilst you’re eating with a three-year-old at your table.

If you are a keen snorkeler like I am, I’d advise you to find another island unless you’re happy to take a daily boat trip; admittedly this isn’t the fault of the resort, but the coral around the island was particularly affected by the bleaching of 2016 and as a result, it looks a little more like an underwater graveyard than a bustin’-with-wildlife underwater oasis. And although the island is nicknamed ‘Turtle Island’ - don’t let this fool you; none of the staff have ever seen a turtle actually nest on the island.

And then there’s the Chinese. Now, I have nothing against one of the most successful races on earth; but as this is an Asian company, and the island is heavily marketed to the Chinese, there are a lot of them on the island. Again, not an issue. But remember the Chinese are culturally different to Westerners. On the first dinner, a waiter apologised to me because of the one set of cutlery laid out, instead of a starter, main, dessert etc. He said, “it’s what the Chinese prefer so that’s what we do”. And if you make the mistake of asking a Chinese member of staff, like I did, for some sugar to sweeten me and my coffee cup, you’ll be given an ashtray.

You may think this illustrious list of bad service means I wouldn’t recommend Angsana, and that I was permanently in the bad books of Mrs E and Master T for choosing this resort, and you’d be totally wrong. We had a fabulous time. The island is stunning, one of the most beautiful places in the world; and the grounds-staff work hard to keep it that way. Despite the service in the restaurant on the water, the service in the buffet restaurant was wonderful (and a name drop to Hathim for that), and the food at both locations was superb. The variety of activities offered were wide and at a reasonable price. The cleanliness of the whole island, something so basic but so important, was flawless, and the accommodation of the 207 sqm Deluxe Beachfront Pool is great; with a garden and pool so private you can sunbathe all day with your tackle out, and no one will attempt to use it for fishing.

As for the free kids club (check the age eligibility; we were told in advance it was three and up, and got to the island to be told four and up!), I have a mixed feeling. It should have been a child’s paradise playground; with the leaflet offering ‘Movie Time’, ‘Story Time’, ‘Sea Life Discovery’, ‘Kiddies Aerobics’, ‘Sand Sculpture Building’, ‘Treasure Hunts’, and even ‘Mini Olympic Games’; sadly none of these things happened. Having said that, the lady who runs this, Tini, has been there many years and Master T liked her very much and did ask to visit quite regularly; so she must have done something right!

"If you want to book this hotel, my advice is to book directly with the resort and contact their reservations manager. The staff are usually happy to match prices and can tailor your package much more; and feel free to mention my name and I'm sure they'll work hard to provide you with extras..."  -- RDCE

Within a week of being on the island, we noticed some big changes happen. Full cutlery services started to appear at dinner. Mrs E was given a menu, and Master T a water glass. Drinks arrived within the time it took me to learn the spelling of Angsana Velavaru, and the activities board has new, accurate timings. Something miraculous was happening, and now I know how they felt on the 25th December in the year naught. New management had been installed, and a new General Manager had been on the job for three days and was already turning things around. This island had been unloved for too long, and now it was like the baby Jesus being born; excitement was in the air and people started to follow their new leader.

I’d easily place a bet that if I’m invited back to visit nine months from now, all of the above will be history, and the elements that’ll shine will be the beauty of the island. The feeling of being looked after and receiving great service won’t be noticed, because it’ll just be there as standard - from the moment you arrive to the moment you leave; like driving a Roller, or playing a Steinway; like all five-star experiences in life should be.

[culinaryhannah]

Week 14: Stewing and Lamb

Introduction

This week, I will be learning…

Method: Stewing

Menu: Lamb Curry, Baked Butternut Squash, Vegetable Biryani

Vocabulary: stew, curry, biryani

What I Know So Far (not a ton)

I love to make curry. I have made many versions of it. You can use many different vegetables and protein options. I like to use coconut milk even though I do not usually enjoy coconut flavor. Curry makes really good leftovers. I always have it with rice when I can. Butternut squash is something that I have had a lot of. Depending on when it is harvested, it can be creamy or watery.

Learning Objectives

My learning objectives are to prepare a meat product for cooking using a combination cooking method: stewing, and to properly prepare a rice biriyani dish.

Research

Method of Cooking

Stewing uses smaller pieces of meat than braising. An acid such as tomato paste is added to tenderize the meat. The most tender of beef cuts are not used. Poultry, pork, and tougher beef are braised.

If red meat is not seared before being submerged it will turn grey. Most meat selections are seared to create a good color and flavor.

Origin and History

Lamb curry is often called mutton curry; mutton curry can contain goat as well. “Mutton is a central part of Kashmiri cuisine. Both Hindus and Muslims prepare the same dishes but with different spices. While Kashmiri Muslims use onion and garlic in their dishes, the Kashmiri Hindus use hing and ginger powder instead of onion and garlic to increase the flavour of their dishes.Other ingredients, such as asafoetida, onions, saffron, red chili powder, fennel, cloves, cinnamon, mustard oil, and bay leaves may be used depending on the dish. Most of the mutton dishes are part of Wazwan, a meal of 36 courses which is served during weddings. (2)”

“Biryani is a South Asian one-pot dish in which lamb, mutton, beef, chicken, seafood, or a mixture of vegetables is layered with rice. The layering technique is what differentiates biryani from other rice dishes, like a pilaf or pulao.(1)”

“Aromas and colors are a very important component of biryani preparation. Spices, like cardamom, cinnamon, and mace, and fresh herbs, like cilantro and mint, imbue the meat with their aromas as it cooks. There are two more aromatic ingredients of significance added to the biryani: rosewater and pandan (also called screwpine or kewra) water. These are sprinkled over the rice just before it steams, and the combination results in a highly fragrant biryani.

For color, the curcumin pigment in the turmeric that’s added to the meat will stain some of the rice grains yellow. A second source of color comes from the delicate threads of saffron, which contain crocetin, a fat-soluble pigment that is extracted by the fat present in hot milk; the milk is also sprinkled over the layer of rice along with the rosewater and pandan water. To get a richer color from the saffron, I grind a few threads separately and then add them to the milk to get a stronger extract (1).”

Squash is native to the americas. “The butternut has a most unlikely origin. It was bred by a Charles Leggett of Stow, Massachusetts, in the USA in the mid-1940s. He was not a plant breeder, but had been forced to leave the city for the country because of his father's health. Smaller fruited varieties produce more fruit but not necessary more tonnage. (3)”

Sources

1) Buenfeld, S. (2020, August 14). Home-style Lamb Curry. recipe | BBC Good Food. https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/home-style-lamb-curry 

2)Wikimedia Foundation. (2022, April 12). Mutton curry. Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutton_curry  

3)B. K, & Ryan, J. (2017, November 21). The strange history of the butternut. Farmer's Weekly.  https://www.farmersweekly.co.za/crops/vegetables/the-strange-history-of-the-butternut/ 

Recipes

Plan of Work

Plate Presentation Models

Buenfeld, S. (2020, August 14). Home-style Lamb Curry. recipe | BBC Good Food.  https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/home-style-lamb-curry

Welch, S. (2019, March 3). Roasted butternut squash with brown sugar. Dinner at the Zoo.  https://www.dinneratthezoo.com/roasted-butternut-squash/

Sharma, N. (n.d.). A celebration-worthy lamb biryani is easy to make at home. Serious Eats.  https://www.seriouseats.com/lamb-biryani

Results and Reflection

Report

Technique: The technique used on the lamb was successful; it was thoroughly cooked. The lamb was very tender and flavorful. The stewing method was pleasant in its simplicity.

The rice was well cooked. The rice was very aromatic and flavorful. Additionally the technique was simple and attractive.

The butternut squash was cooked and not overcooked. The squash was not made golden or vibrant in any way. The technique of the yogurt sauce was successful.

Appearance: The lamb was well browned and vibrant. The turmeric helped to add yellowness and counteract any greying from the stewing process. There was a lot of oil on the surface of the liquid.

The butternut squash was orange. It was a little dull for some reason, I think we may not have used the convection oven properly.

The rice was yellowish with pops of color green and orange from the peas and carrots. 

Texture, Taste, Flavor: The lamb was amazingly tender. There was a lot of mingling between the spices. It had a good bite and was well seasoned.

The taste of the butternut squash was sweet. It was a little fruity. I am very glad we did not overcook the squash. No shade, but our neighbor shared theirs and it was super mushy and sweet, way too sweet to me.

The spices in the rice were sweet. The cinnamon was interesting. It added warmth and sweetness to the rice. The peas were not awesome, but I do not like peas as a rule so I had low expectations. The rice was a good base for the lamb stew.

Cost:

Evaluation

What Worked/What Didn’t Work Our plan of work went well this week. We finished in time. Everything worked very well. The lamb was amazing and tender. A complaint I could possibly have is that everything should be more picante. Well spiced otherwise.

In the future… I would make all of these things again. The curry was delicious with the butternut squash and yogurt. I have made the rice again because I find the technique to be powerful. By that I mean, produces great results with less effort than one would expect.

Conclusions

I enjoyed searing the lamb. I believe I have improved my searing technique and become more attuned to what to look for.

This was a very good lab. We worked well together and had a decent execution of most recipes. I learned about the stewing technique. I improved my knife skills and learned a bit about a meat I have never prepared before.

References

1) Buenfeld, S. (2020, August 14). Home-style Lamb Curry. recipe | BBC Good Food. https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/home-style-lamb-curry

2)Wikimedia Foundation. (2022, April 12). Mutton curry. Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutton_curry