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najia-cooks · 2 years ago

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[ID: A close-up on the bottom right of a bowl filled with a red, brown, and yellow spice blend. The rest of the frame is taken up by scattered brown chili flakes, ajwain, and fenugreek seeds. End ID.]

Berbere / በርበረ (Ethiopian spice blend)

Berbere is a spice blend commonly used to flavor meat and vegetable dishes in the horn of Africa; mostly made up of Ethiopian brown chili peppers, it also commonly includes garlic and shallot, false cardamom, carom and nigella seeds, high-roasted fenugreek, cinnamon, and other spices and herbs. This recipe for an Ethiopian-style berbere produces a blend that imparts a smooth, even heat and a slight camphorous aroma to your final dish.

Premade berbere blends, even those from speciality spice stores, cut corners and cut costs—even if the spices are fresh and have always been stored sealed, the blend is unlikely to contain Ethiopian brown chilis, korerima, or besobela. This recipe provides a good baseline for a typical Ethiopian berbere if you're able to get your hands on these spices, rather than relying on undisclosed substitutions—but it does provide substitutions for anything you're unlikely to find in a local halaal grocery store in the U.S. or Europe. To avoid confusion with overlapping English translations (and because many recipes contain errors caused by them), Amharic terms, botanical (Latin) names, and false cognates to beware of are provided whenever necessary.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Tip jar

Ingredients:

1/4 cup dried ground Ethiopian brown chili (berbere), or substitute New Mexico chilis

1 Tbsp sweet paprika (optional)

2 tsp garlic powder (nech shinkurt / ነጭ ሽንኩርት)

2 tsp dehydrated shallot or red onion (key shinkurt / ቀይ ሽንኩርት)

2 tsp false cardamom (korerima / ኮረሪማ; Aframomum melegueta)

1 tsp coriander seeds (dimbilal / ድንብላል)

1 tsp black mustard seeds (senafitch / ሰናፍጭ; Brassica nigra) (optional)

1/2 tsp fenugreek (abish or hulbet / አብሽ; Trigonella foenum-graecum), dark-roasted

1/2 tsp nutmeg (gewz; Myristica fragrans)

1/4 tsp ground ginger (zinjibel / ዝንጅብል; Zingiber officinale)

1/4 tsp carom seeds (nech azmud / ነጭ አዝሙድ; Trachyspermum ammi)

1/4 tsp nigella seeds (tikur azmud / ጥቁር አዝሙድ; Nigella sativa)

1/8 tsp true (Ceylon) cinnamon (k'elefa / ቀረፋ; Cinnamomum verum), or substitute cassia cinnamon

4 pieces Ethiopian long pepper (timiz; Piper capense); or Indian long pepper (Piper longum), also sometimes used under the name "timiz"

5 whole cloves (krenfud / ቅርንፉድ)

1 tsp Ethiopian holy basil (besobela / በሶቢላ)

1 tsp rue seeds (tena Adam / ጤናዳም; Ruta chalepenesis)

1 tsp Ethiopian rape seeds / Ethiopian mustard seeds (Brassica carinata), or substitute niger seeds (Guizotia abyssinica)

1 tsp koseret (ኮሰረት; Lippia abyssinica) (optional)

2 tsp salt

Berbere preparations vary from household to household, and spices may be added, removed, or rebalanced according to your preference. Less common inclusions are marked as optional; the spices and herbs that are the most vital are bolded.

See end notes for information on spices and substitions.

Instructions:

1. Heat a dry skillet over medium. Roast fenugreek, agitating occasionally, until it has considerably darkened to a medium brown. Set aside. Toast cinnamon, cloves, and korerima for a few minutes until fragrant and set aside.

2. Toast smaller whole spices (carom and nigella seeds) for a few minutes until fragrant and set aside.

3. Remove the pan from heat. Toast ground spices (ginger, paprika) for 30 seconds, stirring constantly, until fragrant.

4. Use a mortar and pestle or a spice grinder to grind all ingredients to a fine consistency. Pass through a fine mesh strainer and store in an airtight container in a cool, dark place.

Notes on spices and herbs

Ethiopian brown chili pepper / berbere

Known as "berbere" in Ethiopia, Ethiopian brown chilis have a rich, smoky, and tangy heat. Dried Ethiopian brown chilis or chili flakes may be purchased online, or you may substitute another type of chili (my choice would be New Mexico).

Paprika

Different varieties of paprika are all made of dried, toasted, and ground red bell peppers, but they vary in heat and in smokiness. For berbere you will need sweet paprika (not smoked paprika, hot paprika, or smoked hot paprika). The proportion of berbere to paprika can be varied a bit according to your preference to produce a milder or hotter blend, but beware of recipes calling for large amounts of paprika—berbere should be mostly chilis!

Dehydrated shallot

Shallots have a flavor similar to those of garlic and onion, but subtler and milder. Dehydrated shallot may be purchased at speciality spice stores, or online—or you can dehydrate thinly sliced shallots in a dehydrator or in an oven on low. Red onion powder is a possible substitute, as red onions are commonly used in place of shallots by people of Ethiopian descent in the United States.

Korerima / false cardamom

Korerima is also known as "grains of paradise," "black cardamom," or "false cardamom." Some recipes mistakenly call for Nepal cardamom in place of korerima, because Nepal cardamom is also known as "black cardamom" in English. The aroma of korerima once ground, though, is much more akin to that of green cardamom than to the smoky, camphorous aroma of Nepal cardamom.

Fenugreek / abish

Fenugreek seeds may be found in any halaal grocery store, where they may be called fenugreek or methi.

Carom seeds / nech azmud

Carom seeds may be found in any halaal grocery store, where they will be known as ajwain. You may also see these referred to as "white cumin" or "caraway seeds" in English, but don't confuse them with true caraway seeds (Carum carvi), which are larger.

Nigella seeds / tikur azmud

Because "tikur azmud" literally translates to "black cumin" in English, some recipes make the mistake of calling for kala jeera (Indian black cumin)—however, the seeds are from different plants entirely. "Tikur azmud" refers to the seeds of the Nigella sativa plant, which are known as nigella seeds in English cooking and kalonji in Indian cooking.

Ceylon cinnamon

Ceylon or true cinnamon is a variety of cinnamon commonly grown in Ceylon, Sri Lanka; it has a subtler, more nuanced and less bitter flavor than cassia cinnamon. Because it must be rolled by hand (unlike cassia cinnamon, which curls naturally), it tends to be more expensive than cassia. If you can't locate any Ceylon cinnamon, though, cassia is a good substitution.

Holy basil / besobela

Ethiopian holy basil is a subspecies of basil whose flowers have a distinctive fruity or tea-like aroma. Some recipes call for basil in place of besobela, but to my nose the aromas are nothing alike; I would favor camomile as a substitution, or omit the herb altogether.

Rue seeds / tena adam

"Tena Adam" (lit., "health of Adam) or "rue" is an aromatic plant the dried fruits of which are used in spice blends including berbere (the leaves are often used to flavor coffee). Ethiopian rue may be purchased online, or you may substitute for it a pinch of lemon or orange zest.

Long pepper / timiz

The berries of Piper capense, also known as African long pepper or Ethiopian long pepper. Piper capense grows across west Africa, south Africa, and the horn of Africa. Timiz is smoky, camphorous, and resinous, not as spicy or sharp as black or white pepper. Piper longum (Indian long pepper) berries, which are sharper in taste, are best known for their cultivation in Southeast Asia, but they are also grown and eaten in East Africa and may also be referred to as "timiz." In the U.S. and Europe, Ethiopian long pepper may be found online, or at a speciality African foods store, where it will be labelled "timiz"; Indian long pepper may be found at an Indian or halaal grocery store, where it will be labelled "pippali."

Salt

Traditional berbere blends typically contain salt. I tend to omit it, as it allows for more control over the salt content of a dish later on.

#berbere #Ethiopian #cooking #vegan cooking #spice blends

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noneedtoamputate · 1 year ago

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Chuck/Ellen, #10 😌

Sorry this took so long. I had free time this earlier this month, and then I didn't. The prompt was for the word "monument," and I know a monument should be a more permanent structure than how I used it in the story, but this idea came to me and I decided to go with it. The picture of Skip and Chuck mentioned in the story is the third one down.

November 2, 1967

The front door opened and shut as Ellen checked the cornbread in the oven.

“Please go tell your brother and sister that supper is ready,” she asked Ron, their middle child, doing homework at the kitchen table. “And don't …”

“SUPPER’S READY!” He closed his textbook and ran off toward his bedroom.

“ … yell,” Ellen said under her breath.

“Did I hear supper’s ready?” Chuck walked into the kitchen, home from work.

Ellen rolled her eyes and accepted his kiss to her cheek. “Why walk a few steps when you can just scream at the top of your lungs?”

Chuck washed his hands at the sink and Ellen arranged food on the table as the sounds of children grew closer.

“What’s for supper?” asked Ken. At fourteen, he was already taller than Ellen and towered over Ron, only a year younger but who had not yet hit his growth spurt.

“Chili,” replied Ellen, as she filled a bowl and handed it to Chuck.

“Ugh, chili? Mom, you know I don’t like it. You always make what the boys want to eat,” Mary complained. At eleven, she already displayed angst usually reserved for teenagers.

“Your mother isn’t running a restaurant,” Chuck said firmly. “Eat it or make yourself a sandwich.”

Mary decided it was easier to eat the chili. She didn’t really feel like making her own supper, and she certainly didn’t want to hear her dad go on about eating K rations in Bastogne or all the hungry kids he went to school with during the depression.

After the boys helped themselves to seconds, Ellen asked the dreaded question.

“What was one thing you learned at school today?”

Sometimes, it was like pulling teeth, getting her children to recall one fact from the day. But tonight, Mary had something to share, much to the relief of her brothers.

“Today is The Day of the Dead,” Mary stated.

“Never heard of it,” Ken said, his mouth full of cornbread.

“It’s a holiday in Mexico. In Spanish, it’s called Dia … de … los … Ma … Mo …”

“Muertos,” finished Ron.

“Show off,” Ken replied.

“You’d know it too, if you weren’t taking a useless language,” Ron argued.

“French isn’t useless,” Ellen countered. “I’m sure your father would have liked knowing more French when he landed in Normandy.”

“Did just fine with the War Department phrasebook, but thanks for your concern.”

Ken noticed his parents smile at each other and share a look, like they were saying something with their eyes.

He wondered why they were so weird.

“But we live in San Francisco,” Ron explained. “And it’s pretty dumb to take French just because of a girl in your class. Carla Marconi,” he teased his brother.

“Shut up!” Ken shouted.

“Hey!” Chuck shouted louder. “Knock it off, the both of you.”

Mary continued, completely unconcerned about the ruckus her brothers made.

“It’s a day when you remember family and friends who have died,” she explained.

“Sounds pretty depressing,” Ron said.

“No, you're supposed to remember happy memories, and the good things about them. It's not supposed to be sad.”

“What else?” Ron asked. Ellen looked up. It was unusual for one of the boys to take an interest in what their little sister had to say.

“You decorate an altar, or a table, with pictures of the dead people in your family, and flowers. Teresa Gonzalez explained how everyone in her family helps put it together.”

“That sounds like a beautiful way to remember loved ones,” Ellen commented.

“I told Teresa we had an altar like that at our house, too. Not with the flowers, but with the pictures,” Mary went on.

“We do?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah, we do,” Ken said, and Ron nodded in agreement.

The kids stood up and walked toward the family room. Ellen and Chuck looked at each other quizzically and followed.

Ken, Ron, and Mary stood in front of the built-in bookshelves Chuck and Ellen installed a few years after they bought the house. On the top row, too high to easily reach a book, were framed photos of family and friends.

“Uncle Ken,” Ron said simply, pointing to a picture of Ellen’s brother in his Marine dress blues, his arm around his proud older sister before he shipped out to Korea.

“Mom said he always told the best jokes and was really good at football. There was that time when the starting quarterback got hurt and he went in and threw a touchdown to win the game,” his namesake recalled about the uncle he never had a chance to meet.

“He would have loved to watch you play,” Ellen said to her oldest son, who played on his JV high school team this past season, and he smiled.

“And there's Skip Muck,” Mary said, his arm around Chuck after they earned their jump wings. “He got his nickname because when he was little, he skipped everywhere. He was the nicest guy in the company, right, Dad?” Chuck nodded, unable to say anything in the moment.

“Grandma Thompson,” Ron said. A picture of Ellen’s motger, with a young Ellen seated next to her while she held a baby Ken, before she had given up on life.

“I don’t really remember her, and she wasn't the nicest person, but you must have learned something from her because you’re a good mom,” Mary said to Ellen.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Ellen said, and she felt tears start in her eyes.

“And Grandpa Grant,” Ron continued. Chuck stood next to his dad, mirror images of each other. Chuck looked about sixteen, not long before his father passed away.

“He taught you how to read the box scores and play baseball and loved the Pirates,” Ken said.

“He drove you and Gran all the way from Pittsburgh when you moved here,” Mary remembered.

Chuck nodded. “I was just a bit younger than you,” he said, remembering that time when his dad had been laid off at the steel mill and they moved to California for the promise of work. He often wondered if he could have been as brave as his father, starting over like that. How many times he wished he could ask his dad for advice, on how to be a good husband or a good father.

“And there’s Eugene Jackson. He died on that patrol.” Ken pointed at his picture. It was a picture of Second Platoon on the back of a truck, taken after they captured Foy.

“He was just sixteen when he joined the army. It was the first time in a long time he had three meals a day. He would scarf down everything in front of him, even if the food was terrible,” Ron recalled.

Chuck noticed Ken’s eyes get large, realizing that Eugene was not much older than him when he joined up. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder. Ellen saw Mary’s eyes glance downwards, perhaps feeling a bit ashamed for complaining about chili when Private Jackson went hungry growing up.

“He was a good paratrooper. Did everything he was asked and looked out for his squad,” Chuck shared.

The children looked at the pictures quietly, and Chuck and Ellen looked at each other. They never sat down and shared these stories. They had all come out in bits and pieces. Stories about Skip when the Christensons came over and Chuck and Pat would talk well into the night. Ellen with a passing comment about the difficult relationship with her mother. Happy memories of Ken on Veterans Day.

The kids had been listening. And they remembered.

Eventually, the boys left to finish their homework and Mary turned on the television to watch The Flying Nun.

Ellen settled Mary into bed and told the boys it was time for lights out, though she knew the desk lamp would find its way on soon enough.

She finished up in the kitchen and saw Chuck sitting outside on the patio. If asked, most people would have described Chuck as friendly, outgoing, funny. And he was all those things. But he also had a quiet side, and sometimes he needed to be alone with his thoughts, to think things through without the distractions of a business, a wife, three kids. Ellen was more than happy to give him that space and time.

The table cleared, the dishes done, the floor swept, Ellen started the kettle and grabbed a coat and blanket from the hall closet.

She slid open the patio door.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked.

Chuck shook his head. He loved that Ellen asked, and that if he answered yes, she wouldn't have minded in the slightest. How lucky he was to have someone understand him the way she did.

She sat down next to him, handed him the mug of tea, and laid the blanket over their laps.

They sat quietly, Chuck holding the mug and a cigarette in his right hand. Ellen hadn’t smoked regularly in years, but the smell of Lucky Strikes was comforting.

It was the smell of Chuck. It was the smell of home.

“Remember when you came back from the doctor’s office after you found out you were expecting Ken?” Chuck broke the silence.

“I do,” Ellen said.

“We were so excited, but I didn't know if I would be able to hack it, and you thought you would turn into your mother.”

She nodded at the bittersweet memory.

He turned to face her.

“I think we’re doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Ellen repeated.

“They still have terrible taste in music and their rooms are a mess, but they’re doing okay in the things that really matter.”

“I read something once that you only live as long as the last person who remembers you,” Ellen said.

“That's a nice notion,” Chuck said. “It sounds like something Skip would have said.”

They went quiet again, thinking about their loved ones who would live on just a little bit longer because their children cared enough to know their stories.

#asked and answered #every beautiful thing #chuck grant #ellen thompson #band of brothers #band of brothers fan fiction #band of brothers fic #fanfic

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little-svt · 2 years ago

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GENDER-NEUTRAL | FLUFF

Wc: 845

Taglist: @sweetiehyuka @pastel-princess-please @kiki-woo @fishsquishh

Yum Yum

“Oh my god, that’s potent!”, you coughed, covering your nose with your sleeve as you latched your apartment door behind you. You could already hear your boyfriends deep chuckle, taunting you from the kitchen. Unloading your bag onto the sofa and kicking off your shoes, you reluctantly wandered into the kitchen to find your favorite sight;

Your 187 cm boyfriend, giddily cooking up something in his silly, frilly apron you’d gotten him for your anniversary.

“Is it edible?”, you asked, peaking around at the large bowl of spice loaded kimchi Mingyu was prepping in front of him.

“I was craving extra spicy, this time.”, he giggled, pulling a piece from the bowl and teasing you with it. The way you flinched backwards made him laugh even hard. You only wanted to get hit in the eye with chili exactly zero times.

“Not even one little nibble?”, he pouted obnoxiously, knowing his puppy look could easily coax you into eating out of his hand even if it was pure garbage he was offering. Though, it never was. That was one of your favorite things about him and he about you. The way he would cook and feed you, the way you ate anything he made happily. It was a perfect five and take love language that time had developed for you.

Groaning you stopped your squabbling and squinted your eyes shut, preparing for the heat of the spices to hit your tongue as you allowed him to hand feed you a crisp piece of fresh kimchi. When Mingyu said spicy… he meant spicy. Though you tried to fight it off and chew gratefully, you weren’t prepared for the heat this man’s pallet craved.

“Good?”, he asked, tilting his head, a lock of wavy hair falling away from his face as he patiently and expectantly awaited your answer.

“Mhmmmnngggg”, your muffled agreeing was completely transparent as he tried not to laugh again, fetching you a glass of milk to wash it down.

“Are you okay, baby?”, he grinned, rubbing your back as he placed the cold glass in your hands to be gulped down in seconds.

“You tried to kill me!”, you yelped, slapping his arm, all the more amusing to him.

“Hmph.”, he pouted once more, turning back to his bowl and mixing it again thoroughly with his gloved hands. Of course you didn’t really mean it. And neither did he. But you still let him sway you with that stupid pout of his. Sliding your arms around his waist as he mixed, you pressed your face into the wide, firm plane of his back.

“It wasn’t that bad.”, you mumbled.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”, he feigned stubbornly as if you couldn’t feel his diaphragm shake his chest with each silent chuckle.

“I SAID IT WASN’T BAD!“, you turned your face to scream into his back, most of the noise being absorbed.

“Oh! You said it needs more spice.”, he chortled, “Why didn’t you just say so, cutie?”

Rolling your eyes, you hopped onto the empty space on the counter and kicked your feet while peaking over the pots that were simmering on the stove since it was quite clear the kimchi was far too spicy for you. Finally catching a whiff from the steaming pots your tummy growled loudly and you frowned, fidgeting hangrily in your spot. After not eating since breakfast and enduring a long day of work, you longed for anything to fill your tummy. Mingyu was oblivious sometimes but it didn’t take a genius to notice.

“Hungry, baby?”, he chuckled, taking a small bowl and pouring a bit of broth from one of the pans into it. Taking another piece of kimchi from hell, he swished it quickly through the broth and offered it to you again. Making a face you turned your cheek and growled. Though it was meant to be menacing, he found it cute and endearing, hangry wasn’t a new emotion of yours.

“Heyyy… it won’t be so spicy this time!”, he assured you, waving it in front of your face, “I don’t like it when my puppy’s grumpy with me… or you can just bite me instead.”

As he lowered his hand you gave in, turning your head again toward him and squeezed your eyes shut tightly.

“Ahh~”, you opened your mouth, your nose scrunching and twitching as you awaited the awful spice you’d experienced before. With a smirk he fed it to you and waited, watching your scrunched up face relax as you realized it was just as he’d said.

“Daddy more?”, you asked, bouncing lightly on the counter at receiving something yummy to fill your aching stomach.

“Go wash up and I’ll have it ready.”, he clicked his tongue teasingly, always perking up a little at the appearance of his baby.

“But I’m hungry!”, you whined, eyeing the suddenly appealing kimchi he’d finished mixing.

“One more and then you have to go wash up for me, okay?”, he pecked your nose and then your cheek, helping you off the counter.

“Ahh!”, you opened your mouth again, content when you received another piece of rinsed kimchi and went on your way to clean up for dinner.

🧸Endnote: why’s the theme giving Christmas XD today is cg Mingyu hahah. Short and cute (the opposite of Mingyu/j with love) I’ve been watching Kdramas lately with an extra dose of disassociating so writing has not been the top of my activity list but I’d been meaning to get to Caregiver Mingyu for a while. I see him mainly as a little but I can definitely see both. He’s just a big emotional and sweet puppy either way. Also this would def not be super realistic since fresh rinsed kimchi would legit basically be just cabbage flavored ~ 🐶🐰🍓

🧸Masterlist🧸

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12colors-classpects · 10 months ago

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Every other Thursday is curry night. It starts Monday morning as you make pilgrimage to the grocery-mongers' market and purchase from the first, their finest chicken; from the second, under-ripened tomatoes; the third, onions; the fourth, ghee; and so on in turn, having practiced for years, you navigate a labyrinth of stalls choosing only the best from among the menagerie to add to your motley assortment of ingredients. It takes half the day, but you have your list crossed through.

On Tuesday, you butcher the chicken, let its' blood drain gently, and fillet its' meat. Marinate the good meat yogurt and spices through two nights, while the gris is harrowed into broth. On Thursday then, char the tomatoes, ripe from waiting, and pulp them with freshly ground spices from your garden. Mince your onion, sear your chicken, add the cream and broth, steam your rice, and after four days of preparing for this moment bring the pots out of your kitchen, place them in the center of the table and take your place around its edge beside your curry night companions. Fill your bowls with rice and load your rice with curry. Shovel the first biteful onto your tongue, and bask in the taste of

Zest

Narrative Function

Zest is, primarily, the aspect of catharsis. Catharsis is a feeling of satisfaction experienced by a reader upon the satisfying release of narrative tension, and that tension and release cycle is the spice of stories, is which burns at the mind-tongue and keeps a reader hooked into engaging with the narrative.

As a secondary function, Zest also embodies the rhetorical flowers: alliteration, polyptoton, epanelepis, zeugma, rhyme, etc: these are language patterns that when used well, make the language used to tell the story more appealing, engaging, and memorable. They flavor narrative with small doses of poetic flourish.

And, as a tertiary function, Zest can also be the aspect of raunch, in stories with a citrus index above orange: after all, citrus fruits are much more well known for their zest than spicy peppers.

Player Tendencies

Zest players, are characters whose design best facilitates narrative catharsis, meaning either that their personal beliefs about justice and the way the world should function regularly butting against an unjust world happy to provide tension for them to release by punching an asshole really good in the face, or that they embody Zest to a lesser extent by being a comic relief character.

Powers

Literal: Control over Chili Peppers and Citrus Fruits Metaphorical: Catharsis, Rhetorical Flowers Rational: Fire, Heat Irrational: Lightning, Bad Jokes

#homestuck #classpect #fan aspect

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flintandpyrite · 8 months ago

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Crispy shrimp rice rolls

I made these for dinner last week based on this recipe I found but with more rice and nori and they were so good. I will definitely make them again, maybe with tofu as a variation instead of shrimps…

Ingredients:

32 rice paper wrappers

1.5 cups dry white rice

1-2 packs nori snack squares

Neutral oil for frying

For the shrimp:

600 g raw shrimp shelled, cleaned and chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 tsp fresh ginger, minced

4 tsp oyster sauce

2 tsp soy sauce

2 tsp toasted sesame oil

2 tsp Shaoxing wine

2 tbsp cornstarch

4 green onions, finely chopped

Steps:

First, cook the rice.

Meanwhile, place the shrimp in a bowl and add the garlic, ginger, oyster sauce, soy sauce, sesame oil, shaoxing wine and cornstarch. Mix well to coat the shrimp pieces.

Heat some neutral oil in a pan and add all of the shrimp, stirring occasionally until the shrimp is cooked but tender. Remove from heat and stir in the green onion.

To make the dumplings, place some near boiling water in a shallow pan and dip a rice paper wrapper in to make it pliable. Place it flat on a clean work surface and put a nori square in the center. Using a scoop, add about 1/4 cup cooked rice on top, then 1/4 cup of the shrimp. Fold the sides of the rice wrapper over the filling to make a package. Wet a second wrapper and double wrap your dumpling. Place on a clean surface to sit while you wrap the other dumplings. I made about 16. They make good leftovers.

Heat some neutral oil in a clean large pan and add a few dumplings, being careful not to crowd them. If they touch, they will stick together and tear so don’t let them get close. When they are well browned on the bottom use a thin spatula to flip them and brown the other side.

Eat hot with mayonnaise and chili crisp. I served ours with steamed Chinese broccoli on the side.

#a larger pan might have been a good idea here bc I had to clean the stove after but it was worth it #flintandpyrite recipe blog

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yrrebulb · 2 years ago

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three bloody holidays — talks and noodles

“Order up!” The chefs yelled from behind the counter. The traditional style ramen shop was dimly lit and filled to the roof with mouth watering aromas. The sizzling of pork harmonized with the slurping of happy patrons. The clashing of pots and pans created a homey baseline to the jazz of shared cuisine. Sitting in the back corner, Blu waited at a table alone. Sunglasses looped into her hair, she etched quickly into a notebook while scrolling her phone. just as she flipped over her notebook, a warm bowl entered her view. Lightly colored broth with red chili oil floating amongst veggies and seafood, her favorite.

Looking up, her fist met Hoya’s with a joyous smile. He sat across from her, his messy peach mane pushed back under a zigzag headband. He always looked happiest in his element, surrounded by good food and good company. “What’s shakin, B?” He asked leaning into the table. Taking a small bowl from the end of the table, he spoon some of the broth into the smaller bowl before lifting noodles to his face. “I need your help figuring something out,” Blu sighed. Doing just as he did, they split the bowl of ramen. “Kei problems?” He questioned. Not meeting her eyes, the two could easily feel the uneasiness they both held. Hoya and Blu have been thick as thieves since the whole parts stealing incident. Even Souya, the trio have been unmatched in overflowing love for each other.

Anyone who met them could tell that they are true ride or dies. “Yea. Obvious, isn’t it?” Blu groaned, letting out a deep breathe. Pulling her sunglasses over her eyes, she slouched back into her chair. “Let’s make it fair and you help me with my girl problems,” he offered. Holding her hand out, he met it with a solid slap.

“Souya says I should tell him about what happened,” Blu informed.

“You should. He has a right to know why the girl sleeping and cooking in his house refuses to talk herself and goes ghost randomly,” he said between slurps.

“First off, fuck you. Second, way to call the kettle black, Mr. I’ll never love again”. Hoya’s expression dropped at her words. His eyes telling her just how petty that was.

“Look I know I should tell him but I don’t want him to look at me different. No one wants a car jacking, bike stealing, therapy mandated —“ she trailed off.

“Clearly, he does,” Hoya shrugged. “You’ve never hid your temper and he’s not appalled by your fighting habit”.

“Yea, but assault with a deadly weapon is different”.

“It was self defense and it’s not like he hasn’t seen worse. Your ex deserved it”.

“Even so, fighting and stabbing are different. I can’t even face him when he’s mad. If I black out and hurt him because of that bitch, I’m never gonna forgive myself,” Blu’s voice trembled as she thought about it. As she remembered the blow for blow fist fight that changed her life. The smell of blood and how mixed so well with the taste of sweat. The room around them roared as her sense dulled to the memories.

Putting his hand on hers, Hoya frowned. “Even more reason to tell him. He’ll understand. You want to trust him and all you can do is try,” the emotionally constipated chef did his best to settle her nerves. Pulling the bowl close to her, she eat in silence. “Nori wants me to ask her out,” Hoya speaks up. “I thought it was enough, my actions,” he revealed.

“Yea but you’re also the same person to flirt with women and tell her she’s free game when you see her do that same,” Blu stated.

“I know. I just. B”.

“I get it,” Blu sighed. “You’re scared of it happening again, of her suddenly not being okay with your reckless nature”.

“Shit changes when you add that title. She’s my girl, and I don’t want to lose her cause I can’t trust that she won’t won’t change”. The broad chested tattoo canvas slumped onto the table. Parting his head, Blu sympathized with his struggle. This fear that the people they want to be with will someday change for the worse. Turn into people they won’t be able to recognize.

“Take it from me, she’s not like her. She’s not gonna expect you to be anyone but yourself”.

“What if she does? What if she hopes that I’ll somehow become someone serious who doesn’t do stupid bike tricks on the highway or who doesn’t have a stupid story for every tattoo,” his voice growled as he thought about the things people have said to him. For him to grow up. To take life seriously. To put someone other than himself first. Hoya never meant to do anything that got anyone hurt. He just lived to have fun and enjoy his short existence.

“Then your answer is just as easy as mine. Tell her. You get jealous when she talks to and about other dudes. You guys look at each other like no one else is in the room. She’s kill you before cheating on you. You’ve got nothing to fear but yourself”.

“That’s a lot coming from you. You make triple what most of us do, and you’re afraid he’s gonna be turned away cause you bout your shit”. The pair laughed at each other. Lifting her sunglasses up, she couldn’t help the nostalgia that enveloped them.

“How about we bring them to the grind track and show them how we hang. Get them in our element, then talk it out. Plus, I think Souya needs to blow some steam,” Hoya held his hand out to make the deal.

“You’re on. If he gets mad at me riding again, I’m running you over with the trailer”.

[ 3B — Nahoya, Souya, Bleaulynn ]

#🦋 read it and weep #I wrote this while in target #and I don’t like proof reading so pls bare with me

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teyumbar · 3 months ago

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About a Good Boy

We drive up to the simple wooden two storey sitting by a brook halfway up the hill. The servants rush to unpack our luggage; she makes no move to leave the car. I start the engine and drive out into the field slowly, peering at her through the rear view mirror. 3 kilometers in, she unravels the leash expertly wrapped around the strap of her purse. My cue to park on the edge of the clearing we just happened on. I get the door for her then turn, tugging down my shirt collar and bending to her height. Her perfume fills my nose as she fastens the leash to the black leather collar around my neck. I close my eyes and my mind. When they reopen, I am no longer in control. I drown in color, and smells, and curiosity... I leave my cares and safety to her. Till sundown, we play all kinds of games. Running, catching, rolling in the grass... She calls me a good boy. It makes me so glad that she feels that way about me. I believe her the way she says it. I am a good boy...

We drive back to the cabin where it is all quiet; the servants retreated to the city once they had unpacked and readied the rooms. I get the key from the fake rock and we head inside.

For three nights, and four days, she lets me take care of her. I clean the cabin, wash her clothes, cook her meals.

She's sitting naked on the edge of the couch as she types and stairs out through the balcony archway. Her tummy swollen from cleaning out a plate of beans and plantain I set before her an hour ago.

Soon, she will sleep. I set my book down to go freshen the bed. On my way back, I bring a pot of jasmine tea, which I set on a coffee table at her elbow. She sets her computer aside, throws on her pink robe, then stalks off to the bedroom. Ignoring my offering. I wince. Acknowledging... too far, too eager... I must rein it in. I didn't best three other only to lose to myself.

I take my place by the wall and look through the holes cut in the eyes of the painting I found... this mistress had a sense of humor and anticipation. She slept with luxurious hair encased in the silk I presented her, hands shaking, on The Morning of First Impressions. I let the warmth flame of delight course through my body, knowing she fashioned the bonnet herself.

I saw her needlework on a painting in a badly lit comedy pub. Later, I recognized I was drawn to her work with knots on the front sign of the funeral home. I didn't then know they were hers and yet, both filled me with a yearning to know. And the more I knew, the clearer my intentions became to myself. When I told her what they were, reading her face through hooded eyes, cringing at the sound of my own voice. I was relieved to find in her eyes a fascination mixed with a touch of amusement.

I went to the kitchen to make some kenkey. The mix was ready to be wrapped in corn husk. I day-dreamed about tomorrow morning, When she'd wake up to a bubble bath and a nice bowl of sativa. I'd have laid out. Whenever she felt hungry, be it after an hour or half the day, she'd traipse into in the kitchen, and I'd offer a plate of kenkey, shito, fried freshly caught cod and tuna with a salad of spicy ground chili. After that, a she'd drink a double expresso with a cookie.

We'd a walk through the fields later. Up to the clearing where we played only a couple days ago. We'll picnic on wine and cheese, or she'd swing in the hammock, reading a book while I stalked off collecting brambles for a fire to roast corn we we'd eat with butter and dry coconut.

It would be such a beautiful end to these pleasant days. I sighed, knowing that none of my preparation would matter if she woke up in a foul mood. I had to take care today that she might be positively disposed tomorrow.

Ice pressed against my nipple soaks my shirt. She wraps one arm around me from behind then bites my back. I sigh... this kenkey will overferment and be ruined... but how can I say no to such a clear summon? My hesitance is rewarded with a smack across the face. I grow hard in seconds. I look up, and she is walking away.. I pulled her back, and helped her up the counter. She spread her legs and raised her knees... I reached for both breasts...

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thatyamiguy-blog · 2 years ago

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Digi-cuties (digimon)

it was a nice and warm but not too warm summer morning when Takato was woken up by the call of a crow, making the young former digimon tamer groan and whine and grab one of his two pillows and pull it over his head to try and block the sound out and try to nestle into his bed roll. Normally one who could enjoy natures and bask in it's beauty, the google loving boy wasn't so nature loving this early in the morning before a bowl of Cap'n crunch. "Somebody hit natures mute button." he whined under his pillow. Sitting up next to Takato on his own bedroll, Henry smirked and tugged the pillow away. "Now now, known of that, your the one who wanted to go camping for a week and get away from everyone." he pointed out, then wrinkled his nose. "besides that, your WAY over due for a change." Takato blushed and sat up, the bulky white diaper around his hips MUCH bulkier then it had been last night, and he could feel it squish around and got a whiff of him. "heh.. ok yeah true. maybe the crow was trying to keep me from leaking.. though don't be so high and mighty, you're in need of a change too!" Takato giggled, poking the front of Henry's own soggy and filled diaper, making the brunette blush and give a sheepish smile. "Fair enough.. I'll change you if you'll change me, unless you wanna do self changes this time?" Henry asked. "Yeah no. I'm not wasting the chance to have someone else clean me up for a change, that's part of the reason i wanted to go camping." the brown haired semi brat said and smirked. "Heh, alright but you know it still means you'll be wiping MY butt." henry said. snorting. "yeah yeah.. worth it." Takato said, getting on his hands and knees and reaching for the open pack of diapers and the wipes. "You wanna go first or second?" he asked, diaper butt in henry's face. "I'll change you first.. whew.. no more chili for you!" henry said, teasing the other boy playfully.

it was the damnest thing, in the aftermath of fighting the D. reaper most of the digi destined had ended up needing diapers to different degrees,. some like Suzie only needed pull-ups and had light accidents, but the main three were full on diaper dumping potty pants big babies, a fact that Henry and Takato accepted with a form of grace and Rika was fighting tooth and nail for all the good it was doing her. To that end she had cut off ties with the boys till she could get it under control, considering their acceptance of their need of diapers a bad influence. That wasn't to say that Takato and Henry couldn't get embarrassed at times from their need of diapers, anyone would blush when a little kid would ask why are the big kids in huggies after all. Hence the camping trip, a week of just the two diaper boys having fun and no one to make fun of them when they filled the seat of their huggies. They were even camping far enough away from anyone else that they didn't even bother with shorts or pants, unless they were going on a nature trail to protect their legs from bugs and maybe getting cut, not to mention their diapers from getting ripped.

One joint diaper change later and the boys were having a quick breakfast, Takato chowing down on his milk and Cap'n Crunch while Henry had a bowl of raisin bran. "heh, you really think you need MORE fiber in your diet?" Takato asked, milk dripping down his chin and onto his light blue t-shirt. "excuse me for liking to try and keep regular." Henry chuckled and set his bowl aside, getting some paper towel and dabbing at Takato's shirt and chin. "Why don't you try and get some of the food into your mouth?" "I uh.." and Takato was blushing, Henry's touch sending a shiver though him. "I get.. enough in my mouth." he squeaked. If Henry noticed the effect he was having on his fellow pants pooper, he didn't show it. "If you say so. just we'll be here for anther 3 days, you don't want a milk stain making your shirt all stinky." Henry said and then took anther piece of paper towel and tucked it into Takato's collar, making a semi bib for the messy eater. "better?" "..Yeah.. I-I guess." Takato squeaked out. Henry smiled and they finished breakfast in silence.

After eating the pair waddled they're way down to the stream, fishing poles in hand and a bucket for any fish they caught. so far they hadn't caught anything, but they were hopeful that today would be the day to change that. Said hope didn't last long as they had barley been at it for 20 minutes before it clouded over and then started to rain. "you ever get the feeling that mother nature want's us to stick with our camp food and stop trying to live off the land?" Takato asked as they raced back towards the campsite, they're diapers getting more and more bloated by the second. "That or there's a river guardian who wants to keep the big babies away." henry teased, loving the blush that Takato got. "..Maybe YOUR the big baby. I'm a big TODDLER, thank you very much." he said and blew a raspberry, both boys giggling and chuckling as they made it inside the tent. the tent thankfully was a big one, and was in two parts so you could take off your shoes before getting in the main part. or in this case, shoes and soggy diapers and clothes. Having changed in front of each other and even each other, the boys weren't shy about being buck naked, at lest for the short time it took to dry off with towels. All dried off they made their way into the main part of the tent and again diapered each other. "Sheesh, if I knew it was gonna piss down rain, I'd of stayed in the tent, what a waste of a diaper.' Takato huffed. "..I think we have enough diapers one or two can be wasted." Henry said, nodding to the 5 still unopened packs. "we're going home in a few days soo..." "Hey! don't underestimate the power of my butt! Maybe I'll start loading a diaper once a hour every hour!" Takato giggled and blew a raspberry. "If you were going THAT often I'd use the satellite phone dad gave me and call for help." Henry said with a small smirk. "Because you'd be scared I was sick?" "No, because there are limits to how often I'll wipe your stinky butt." Henry chuckled. "Wiping my butt is a honor and a privilege!" Takato huffed, trying to act all hurt but the massive grin on his face and the giggles that he couldn't keep in gave him away. "Righttt. whatever you say Cap'n dork pants." Henry said, then yelped and jumped as a boom of thunder filled the sky. It also made Henry fill his diaper. "heh.. maybe it's not MY butt we gotta worry about.. finish up and I'll change you." Takato giggled, holding his nose. Henry huffed, but nodded and assumed the position, no since in getting changed only to crap himself again.

One smelly change later, and with the rain coming down hard Takato couldn't help but notice how distant and quiet Henry was getting, trying to lose himself in a handheld game but from the sounds of it he was just getting killed over and over. Takato had been trying to expand his man and read the classic (AKA reading bronze age comic books) but the sounds of Henry's charter dying over and over made it had to focus. "Maybe give the game a rest.. it's clear that your not into it right now." Takato said, noting how pale Henry was getting and burrowed his brow. "Hey, you ok buddy?" "Y-yeah I'm fine! w-why do you ask?" Henry said, trying to force a smile on his face but a flash of lighting and a thunder boom made him scream and in a instant he was in Takato's lap, hugging him and whining. "..you know, if you didn't like thunder storms and needed cuddles you could of just asked." Takato coo'ed, rubbing Henry's back and his thigh as the normally more mature boy snuggled close. "Didn't wanna make you think I'm a baby." henry whined softly. "heh, I'd tease it but nah, your just a normal big kid who's scared of thunder storms and craps his pants. Heck, put me in the same room with a clown and watch the back of my diaper expand!" Takato said and gave a silly grin, making Henry giggle a little. "Soo what your saying is you'd have your diaper SO full it would be like a seat?" Henry asked. "..totally. after all, I AM number one at going number two." Takato said and winked, gently getting Henry out of his lap and then tugging their bedrolls together. "what are you doing?" Henry asked, blushing. "well the best way to escape from a thunder storm is under the blankets, and they way we can hid under the blankets together." Takato said, smirking and snatching a flashlight.

soon enough the pair where under the blankets, though with two cups being used to make a vent of sorts since Henry was still having poot attacks from the thunder, but for the most part Takato was keeping his mind off the thunder, reading him comic books and making funny voices. they got SO into it in fact they failed to notice that the storm had ended at first, till they heard birds chipping and poked there heads out. "Well looks like that's it.. you gonna be ok now?" Takato asked, yelping as henry tackle glomped him. "Thanks for keeping me calm! I own you big time!" Henry gushed, then paused. "and PLEASE don't tell anyone about me going all crybaby.." "Pffft please. that wasn't crybaby. that was normal fear. but your secret is safe with me superman." Takato promised, getting a gently pillow swat to the fact. "Dork.. Hey Takato.. you ever think about like.. How cute some people are.. and Maybe like, how you'd like to smooch them but then recall your a pants pooping baby butt?" Henry asked, dropping the pillow and rubbing a arm. "heh, well yeah.. Me and Juri spilt up because she got tired of me loading my loads every other time we smooched. Girls are kinda icky anyways." Takato said, blushing a little now and rubbing his own arm. "You uh.. ever think about like maybe.. smooching a dude?" "I uh.. well maybe once or twice.. but like.. it would HAVE to be a guy who was all kool about diapers and stuff and wouldn't mind changing me." Henry said, nodding his head. "Oh yeah, for sure.. and like.. where are you gonna find a guy who's a pro at changing diapers and would be down to mash lips?" Takato asked, and now both boys were blushing and looking at the sides of the tent to avoid looking at each other. the minutes ticked by, both blushing boys trying to find the right words to say what was on their minds, as their hands slowly crept towards each other and then grasped the other. "H-Hey Takato do y-" henry started to say but then Takato darted his fact in and pressed his lip's to Henry's, making Henry's eyes go wide, then relax as he didn't fight it and started to smooch back. Pulling back from the kissing after about a minute or too, and semi breathless, Takato smiled. "I'm sorry, you were about to ask something?" he asked impishly. "I think you already know what I was gonna ask, and I think I have my answer." henry said, scooting over and snuggling into his new boyfriend. "Heh yup~" Takato coo'ed and snuggled back, thinking this had turned out to be a even better camping trip then he could of hoped for.

the end

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intertewinedstars · 2 years ago

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JJK Cafe 2022 - Info & Food and Drink Menu

Event Date: August 11 to October 10

Locations: Tokyo & Osaka

Details: Early reservation provides the buyer with an A4 poster of the above picture.

Food Menu

Yuji Itadori - Chicken Over Rice

Chicken over rice with chili tomato sauce and a salad filled with oranges, carrots, and chorizo sausages that are shaped like Sakuna’s fingers.

Megumi Fushiguro - Fitting Dark Garden Sandwich

Black French toast served with orange and chocolate sauce and chocolate ice cream.

Nobara Kugisaki - Vegetable Spice Curry

Medium spicy millet rice curry with bell roses and vegetables. it comes with a cheese crisp as well.

Second Years - Breakfast Plate

A plate of eggs benedict, Vichyssoise soup with non-powdered protein, and a pancake with a picture of Panda on it. The eggs benedict can be served with hot sauce if wanted.

Kento Nanami - Apple Pork Wrap Sandwich

Balsamic flavoured apple pork sandwich with Camembert cheese, a small bowl of Vichyssoise soup, and potato salad.

Satoru Gojo - Fictitious "茈" cake

A whipped pancake that uses vanilla ice cream and berry sauce in the image of Gojo’s "茈" technique. The plate is decorated with blueberry sauce, has blueberries and raspberries, and has a silhouette of Gojo showing this technique.

Area of Curses Plate

A dessert plate inspired by the curses (we know who you’re talking about 😉) who enjoy playing soccer on the beach. It comes with a yogurt and cheese parfait, a lemon sorbet, and a chocolate cupcake.

Drinks Menu

Yuji Itadori - Passion Cranberry Tea Soda

Megumi Fushiguro - Green Apple Mint Soda

Contains Ramune jelly at the bottom.

Nobara Kugisaki - Orange Rose Hip Tea Soda

Contains bell rose and raspberry.

Kento Nanami - Coffee Mojito Soda

Non-alcoholic (😂) lemon mojito soda with a side of espresso to pour in.

Satoru Gojo - Blue Hawaii Lemon Drink

Contains lemon jelly.

Gojo’s Hot Coffee

Since Gojo doesn’t like alcohol, here is a cup of hot coffee inspired by the scene where he puts a lot of sugar cubes in his coffee. ☕️

The goods list will follow in a separate post as this has became a monster post!! 😎

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #yuji #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi #kugisaki nobara #nobara kugisaki #nobara #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami

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niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian · 3 years ago

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“Just because we aren’t blood related doesn’t mean you aren’t my sister/brother.” but Sonic and Tails.

Summary: During a fun, planned movie night, Sonic has a sit down with Tails after the latter reveals what’s been on his mind that’s been bothering him.

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: Ooh nice choice of characters for this one, we all know that these two are the best pair of bros out there and we seriously need to see more interactions with these two in the games. For this one, I’d picture their ages being around 15 and 8 just like it usually is in the games, but with Tails being about 7 closer to turning 8 for the sake of the plot. Also apologies if the characterization seems a bit OOC but it’s the best with what I got since I usually don’t write about these two too often.

AO3 link

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

“Ouch!”

Sonic let out a yelp of pain as he felt the sharp heat from the pan on the stove travel through his glove to his finger. He quickly suckled on it and turned it off, carrying the pan over towards the dining table. Carefully pouring the freshly brewed chili into one of the bowls, his stomach rumbled loudly in anticipation as the scent lifted from the steam hit his face and smelled the aroma.

He stood back and dusted off his gloves against each other, checking out the mini smorgasbord he had laid out for dinner. The bowl of chili sat next to a plate of hot dogs piled up in a small, neat pyramid.

Another bowl sat beside them, filled to the brim with freshly cut slices of apples and oranges at Tails’ request for them to eat more balanced and healthy foods rather than chili dogs almost every day, to which he argued that they were just as good and tasted better as any other food even if the kid had a fair point.

After one quick dash to the fridge for a variety of drinks to lay out on the table was finished, all that was left to do was to get the honorary partner in crime down here and binge watch any action movie they choose. Sonic slowed his dash to a leisurely pace until he got to the bottom of the stairs leading to the 2nd floor.

Tails had come home earlier that afternoon rushing by and going straight up to his room/ second work area with a quick saying of “I’ll be working if you need me!” before he could get a word in to respond, but decided to let him be and let him get some of his projects done so he’d have more time to have for leisure later on.

"Tails? Tails!" Sonic shouted as he angled his head up towards the darkened hallway. “I got the food all setup and raring to go. Just waiting up on you buddy!”

Only silence followed up after he finished. There was no usual immediate answer that would usually come when he would call up, no “Okay, coming!” or even a small but loud noise of confirmation that told him that he heard him. Just silence that was quickly overtaken by the sound of the show playing on the TV in the living room.

“Tails~?” He tapped his foot and stood there for a few more seconds before making his way up the stairs.

As he turned and walked down the small hallway leading to their bedrooms, he noticed that the door to Tails' room was closed, which was a usual thing he tended to do but more often now with all the new tinkering and gadgets that he was making over the past couple of days and preferring to work with no distractions.

However, there was no light peeking out from under the door, nor any sounds of tools clattering on the ground or drills whirling against metal and wood, just silence just the same as when he called up to him the first time.

He frowned, softly knocked his knuckles twice up against the door. "Hey Tails? Tails, are you okay?”

When no answer came out, a small tinge of panic began to creep up Sonic’s spine. He quickly shook his head and took a breath. Maybe the kid just fell asleep at his desk and slept longer than usual, definitely not the first time he’s done that but still…

"I'm coming in okay?" Sonic turned the doorknob slowly and peaked his head into the room as the door opened. His prediction of all of the lights being off was confirmed when all he saw was the slight, pale light of the moon shining through the window, luminating only the center part of the bedroom.

Walking in, he noticed that Tails’ workbench in the corner of the room had been wiped clean and was practically spotless, in comparison to the floor which had all sorts of metal tools, scrap metal, small blueprints and papers surrounding it.

Furrowing his eyes, he reached out for the nearest lamp and turned it on, glancing around the room and noticed more scattered items from his work station thrown across the hardwood floor, most of them being handwritten formulas and notes he recognized the fox dwelling into and going on about earlier that week.

Why was his stuff all over the place? He didn’t hear anything loud or concerning coming from up here the whole time that would equal this mess, but more importantly, where the heck was Tails?

A soft shuffling sound picked up in his ears and sharply turned his head towards the bed on the other side of the room. While nothing moved the bed itself, he could see the sheets hanging down the side of the bed frame moving slightly as soon as he looked in its direction, a small hint of a yellow tail moving away from the sheet and further underneath the bed.

Sonic felt the rising panic from earlier immediately die down and breathed out a small sigh, at least the kid wasn’t kidnapped by some sneaky, ninja badniks Eggman decided to create to catch them off guard, at least not yet that is, but it still didn’t explain why the room was a mess or why he was failing at hiding underneath the bed. Walking over to the bed, he tilts his head and knocks rhythmically at one of the posts.

“Hellooo? Anyone under there?” Sonic pauses, listening for a brief moment before speaking up. “Is there a certain raccoon that’s living under my buddy’s bed and trashed up his tools and room without him even knowing. Because if so, I don’t think he would be very happy about that nor having you live under there without paying rent.”

A second passed before he heard the shuffling again, this time accompanied by a small sigh. A small gloved hand slowly lifted up the sheet, revealing a small black nose, white muzzle and bright blue eyes coming into view and meeting Sonic’s gaze as he looked up at the hedgehog. Sonic blinked and cocked his head to the side, a small grin forming at the corner of his mouth, kneeling down on a knee to get closer to the floor.

“Oh wow, you’re definitely not a raccoon. I’d recognize that yellow, messy fur anywhere.” He says with a smirk, quickly ruffling a hand through the fox’s bangs, causing his hand to be suddenly pushed away harshly and Tails to look away from him, laying his head down on the floor.

Sonic reeled back, surprised at the sudden action and blinked in confusion. Sitting in a crisscross, he lightly touched the back of the foxes head, watching his ears fold back and shoulders scrunch up in response but he didn’t move from his position on the floor.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on bud?” he asked sincerely. Even though he had yet to say anything, it was very clear to him that something had upset him due to the current state of his room alone, but where he decidedly chose to hide under the bed with all the lights off was one other thing on its own. Tails stayed silent as he turned his body back in Sonic’s direction, not looking at him but rather finding the soles of the hedgehog’s shoes more interesting.

“Nothings going on.” He mumbled quietly, but still loud enough for Sonic to pick up on.

He raises an eyebrow. “If nothing is going on, why are you hiding underneath your bed and looking all sad like that?”

He got a small shoulder shrug in response, still refusing to fully look up at the hedgehog. Sonic tilts his head and leans his face against the palm of his hand, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Hmm okay then, guess I’ll just sit here and wait. Just sitting here and waiting. Waiting and…..sitting.”

Sonic peeks down at Tails, whose face was currently scrunched up and looking irritated, confirming that it won’t be long until he starts to crack. “Just sitting around aaaaand waiiiiitttiing-.”

“Okay! Okay, just stop that please?”

Success. Turns out that it works on more people other than evil scientists and grumpy echidnas.

“I’m listening kiddo, whenever you’re ready.”

Tails pauses, letting out a deep sigh. “Sonic, what do you see when you look at me?”

The hedgehog blinked twice when Tails went silent after asking the question, he could feel his brain practically trying to find the reason for such a question. “What do I see when I look at you?”

He watched the fox nod his head, his wide eyes now looking at him expectantly for an answer. “What do I see?….Well I see you, a little fox that is currently covered head to toe in dust bunnies and sorta looks like he needs to take a nap.”

Tails let out a frustrated huff, pulling himself up on his elbows, his frown deepening. “I’m being serious.” He muttered softly, starting to pull at the fabric of his gloves. “That’s not what I mean.”

Sonic laid his hand down on top of the kit’s hands, making him stop picking at his gloves “Then try to help me out here, tell me what’s going on and what’s making you feel this way.” He said with genuine patience, seeing the tension in Tails’ face falter at the sound of his voice.

After a few seconds,Tails closed his eyes and took a breath. “Do you…really consider me as your brother?”

Sonic eyes widened and his mouth opened agape, all guesses that he had on his mind immediately went down the drain and replaced it with even more confusion. Where was this coming from of all things? He couldn’t remember a time where he even asked him a question like this, especially one where it made his mood dower like the way it is now.

“What-….Tails, of course I see you as my brother, I haven’t nor never even doubted that.” Sonic finishes with a new question on his mind. “Where is this coming from?”

“It’s because we aren’t related by blood.”

“….and?”

Tails fumbled over with his words, practically jolting his body out from under the bed and sitting up on his knees. “A-And? And that means we shouldn’t even be siblings! Or at least be considered as such.” He felt his voice starting to crack and dug his fingers into knees. “People know that I’m your sidekick, the kid genius to the world famous Sonic the Hedgehog but each time they hear that you took me under your wing, I always hear them say that you did it because I was a unwanted orphan that you took pity on and that I-“

“Okay, I’m gonna just stop you right there.” Sonic holds up a hand in front of Tails’s face, making him stop abruptly. “First things first, don’t ever, ever talk about or even think that way about yourself again.”

Tails slightly shrank back, stunned at Sonic’s sudden change of tone. He went to speak again but Sonic kept his hand up and gave him that “I mean it” look on his face, keeping him silent. “Second, where is all this coming from? You’ve never said anything to me about this before.”

The fox kit shrugged his shoulders and kept staring at his lap. “I sometimes hear people say that stuff when I pass by them on the street or when kids or even some adults would ask me questions like ‘If you’re his brother, why don’t you live with him?’ or ‘Why don’t either of you have parents?’ Even today, a little kid saw me in line in the hardware store while I was getting supplies, went up to me and asked me, ‘Are you really Sonic the hedgehog’s brother? I thought he didn’t have time for anybody?’”

Sonic’s face remained neutral as Tails continued. “I know that isn't true and I don’t blame them for asking, they were just curious since they don’t know how our personal lives usually are, even though those annoying paparazzi aren't helping enough with that already. But I don’t know, I guess their words were just getting to me over time and I just-“

“Decided to almost destroy your entire room instead of coming right to me and talking about it?” Sonic interrupted, a knowing grin playing on his face.

“Heh, yeah. I think I let my anger get the best of me.” Tails looks away embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh, you think?” He lightly taps the side of Tails’ head with his knuckles. “You keep up that charade and you’ll end up becoming like that old grump Knucklehead and have a permanent frown on your face."

Tails pushes Sonic's hand away, more gently compared to when he did the action earlier. "He doesn't even have a permanent frown Sonic, he just frowns whenever you show up unannounced at Angel island.”

"I think he does that because he doesn't want to admit that he misses me and that I’m way cooler than he’ll ever be."

The two stare at each for a moment, then burst into a quick fits of laughter that ends as quickly as it started. Tails wipes away at his eyes, with tears of mirth rather than sadness while trying to catch his breath. Sonic sat in a comfortable spot on the floor with his back against the side of the bed, reaching out and gently patting Tails’s back.

“But listen, never let those things you hear people say about us get to you. They know only what they see, a fast teenaged hedgehog and a techy, quirky little kid genius fighting bots and some evil bald dude, that’s all they know and will just make up stuff to create a make believe scenario of what we do when we’re not fighting Eggman. Like it’s some reality TV show that always gets low ratings because no one ever watches it.”

Tails brought a hand to his muzzle to attempt to muffle the laugh that threatened to spill out but the smile on his face said otherwise.

“And most importantly, Just because we aren’t blood related doesn’t mean you aren’t my real brother.” Sonic said softly, scooting closer to the fox, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I took you in because of who you are, not what you can do to help me in a battle or to make me look good to the crowd. I saw a kid who was alone, scared, and was looking for a place to call home. In doing that, it made me realize how I needed that same thing that was missing in my life as well, a family."

Tails gives him a tearful smile, his smile widening as Sonic affectionately bumped their foreheads together. "I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the universe, kid. That’s a guaranteed fact.”

Tails lays his head on Sonic’s shoulder and snuggles closer to him. “You really mean that?”

Sonic gives a soft chuckle, resting his cheek on top of the kit’s head. “Without a doubt.”

“Even if you were offered a year's supply of chili dogs in exchange for me?” He asked, grinning up at him.

"I still wouldn't do it even for that." The hedgehog suddenly lets out a hum, pretending to think about it. "Buuut if we’re talking about a lifetime supply of them, then that’s a different story-.”

“Hey!” Tails exclaimed, shoving at his shoulder playfully and whipped one of his tails around to whack him on the side of his head. Sonic shields the hit with his arm and pulls him back close in a loose headlock, proceeding to give him a noogie.

"H-hey! Ow! No-Stop it! You're messing up my fur!" Tails protested as he tried to free himself.

"Oh, now you're worried about how your fur looks? You still have all those dust bunnies on you!" He soon released him and watched as Tails attempted to flatten the fur sticking up on his head.

“Feeling a bit better now?” Sonic reaches out a hand to help him off the floor.

“More than a bit but yeah, I am” Tails replied, accepting the hand.

“Well, get yourself cleaned up and if you hurry we can still eat the food while it’s still room temperature.” Sonic jokes, walking towards the door.

Tails scoffed as he brushed off the leftover dust bunnies still clinging to the fur on his tails. “You really need to stop eating them so much. It’s not good for your health.”

Sonic rolled his eyes in an overly dramatic fashion. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like how the chili I make with them tastes.”

“It’s not even that! If you keep eating them all day, your energy will start to deteriorate and you’ll end up gaining more weight and it’ll start to slow you down.”

Sonic paused, turning his head back slowly with his mouth agape. “Are you implying that I’m getting fat?”

“I’m not saying that you might, I’m saying that you are, hence why I said ‘gaining more weight’ just now.” He answered by making quotation marks with fingers, a sly smirk masking his face. "That's probably the reason why you were so chubby when we first met. You never had a balanced diet until now."

‘Oh this cheeky little-…’ Sonic placed his hands on his hips and let his head hang down. “Okay just for that, I’m giving you a 10 second head start.”

The fox blinked and cocked his head to the side, the mischievousness disappearing. “Huh?”

“I’m giving you ten seconds to run, afterwards you better hope that you can have enough time to even get away. One..”

Tails’ ears folded back as he began to sidestep towards the door, keeping his eyes on Sonic. His double appendages swished back and forth in anticipation of any sudden moves he could catch him off guard. “Hey S-sonic? I was just joking.”

“Two. Well, you should have thought about that before you decided to do the whole trash talking. Three.” Sonic replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, it’s not my fault for telling the truth!” Almost immediately, he mentally slapped himself for opening his big mouth and felt his heart start to speed up once he saw his brother throw him a predatory gaze in his direction.

“Eight…”

He didn’t wait another second, Tails sprinted past him as he ran out of the bedroom and headed towards the landing leading to the stairs. He could barely get his tails spinning as he neared the first step before he felt a pair of arms suddenly wrap around his torso and was pulled into a tight hold against Sonic’s chest.

"Heh. Still not quick enough". He could practically hear the smile in his brother's voice and attempted to pry himself out of the grip but was effortlessly carried down the stairs and into the living room.

Sonic then tossed him over the couch, with him landing softly onto the cushions and attempted to run, only to have his body pushed back down by one of the larger pillows and felt a heavier weight go on top of it.

"Ack! Sonic! Get off!"

"Sorry, I can't hear you. Must be gaining too much weight in my ears to hear anything properly anymore." Sonic crossed his legs and pretended to look at his wrist, continuing to hold the pillow down with one arm without any struggle.

Tails rolled his eyes, shaking his head and peeking it over the couch cushion in Sonic's direction. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"You mean that sincerely or deliberately? Cause you're good at doing both."

“It’s sincere, now get off of me before I put a stink bomb under your pillow.” Sonic obliged and removed his arm from the pillow, allowing Tails to sit up on the couch.

“Okay, just for that threat, I’m in charge of choosing the movie and it’s going to be very long and boring and you’re going to watch it with me until it’s over.”

Tails let out an unamused snort. “What makes you think I’ll ever agree to something like that?”

“Because if you don’t, I won’t make anymore “healthy food” with our meals and all we’ll eat is chili dogs from now on.”

"Ugh, you're so annoying."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too bud."

#finally found out how to add ‘readmore’ on mobile and I now feel fulfilled #sonic fanfic #sonic and tails #sonic the hedgehog #tails the fox #unbreakable bond #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wstw #wsatw #niya writes

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years ago

Text

Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)

aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow

Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word count | 7111

Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily

***

The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.

He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.

The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.

His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.

He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.

“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.

Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.

Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.

Fuck, what happened?

“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.

When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.

It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.

The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.

“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”

“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”

Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.

***

“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.

As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.

“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.

“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.

Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.

“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.

“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.

Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.

Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.

Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.

***

Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.

"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.

I could fall asleep like this - fuck…

She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.

“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.

***

Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.

“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”

Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.

“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”

Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.

“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”

He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.

“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”

His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.

“To be so tickled, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”

His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?

“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”

Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.

“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”

Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.

***

That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…

***

The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.

It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.

And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.

He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.

During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.

“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”

Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.

Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.

***

After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.

“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.

“As if I could say no to you.”

***

“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.

“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”

“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”

“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.

“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”

“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”

“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”

“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”

“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.

“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”

“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.

“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”

Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.

Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”

“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”

Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”

“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.

“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”

“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”

“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.

***

So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.

Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.

Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.

“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”

“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”

Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.

“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.

“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.

“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”

For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.

“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.

“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.

“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.

“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”

“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.

“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.

Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”

Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.

Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”

“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.

He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”

“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.

Amore mio...

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