#which is??? hopefully the restaurant he got the burger from wasn’t like a family owned one

[tariah23]

Ppl will do anything for internet clout oh my god

[dreamboundedstar]

My Belcher Siblings Fankid Headcanons

In light of the latest episode of Bob's Burgers. I decided to share my headcanons for my fan children of the Belcher siblings. It's a work in progress, so keep that in mind.

Louise:

I personally don't see her having children of her own. Especially since the only time she said she would have children was to feed them to an albino polar bear. However, I do see as she grows, matures, and takes over her dad's restaurant, I see her becoming a foster parent. She will be inspired by the fact that Bob lost his mother 11 to 13 (his mom passed away 33 years ago and Bob is 44 to 46) and she wants to help troubled kids have a stable home life like she had as long as she's able to. I, unfortunately, don't have any foster children ocs in mind yet. Hopefully, I'll figure it out eventually. I do see Rudy being a foster parent with Louise though whether as platonic friend and roommate or officially married. Gene:

I also don't see them ever having kids either. They rather be the fun aunty uncle (this is the best I got for a gender-neutral term for aunt/uncle, feel free to make suggestions for something better. At the very least Gene might like it because it's funny) or a kid game show host than ever be responsible for their own children. (Also I'm going with the common headcanon that Gene is genderfluid. I don't see them being strict with pronouns but I'm still going by they/them just in case)

Tina:

She would be the only one of the siblings to have biological children. She would be married to Zeke and both would be for having children. Zeke would be all for having a big family, his only caveat would be to not wait too long for siblings because he wouldn't want his kids to go through the same lonely sibling age gap problem he went through (him having a half brother that's 31 years older than him and a stepbrother that 13 years younger than him. The only relative he has that's close to his age would be his cousin Leslie and even then he's at the lowest, 3 years older than him). Tina, however, would originally not want to go too fast in adding siblings because she knows how much of a handful it is from seeing her parents having a child every 2 years 3 times, counting herself.

Life had different plans though and she wouldn't change a thing about it.

Daniel “Dani” Bob Belcher:

He’s this little guy

First born son of Zeke and Tina. He has his dad’s extroversion and optimistic attitude. Meanwhile, He inherited his mom’s creativity and bad vision. As a teenager, he is cursed with being nuts for butts and a goob for boob. Though he’s demiromantic, so while he definitely finds many people attractive, he doesn’t pursue any of them romantically until he realizes he has formed a deep connection of friendship with them. He is extra with his love confessions though and has no shame which can lead to the downfall of many potential romantic relationships because he loves giving his all too fast and too hard. Sometimes his confessions could end friendships he thought he had a deep connection with too because they simply didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. Daniel doesn’t fret about it because he follows the “if you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve at my best” motto. He will always have his family and his true friends will always stick by him and that’s good enough for him.

He’s terrible at wrestling but that doesn’t stop him from trying to surprise pounce on his dad. He’s better at writing songs and coming up with crazy, fun ideas to try. He doesn’t intentionally try to do stuff that will get him in trouble, but his creativity just makes him a trouble magnet. He’s not the brightest but his heart is always in the right place.

His main colors are yellow and green.

( His personality type for reference - ENFP 7w6)

Jeffrey “Jeff” Griffin Belcher (Is he named after Tina’s ex-ghost box boyfriend or her body pillow? I’ll never tell! XD)

Second born son by around a 1 year and a half (though it’s rounded out to 2 anyway since he wasn’t born in the same year as his older brother). He has his mother’s monotone introversion as well as creativity and his dad’s love of chaos. He’s not the most sociable and much rather spend his time alone playing video games, making blueprints, and testing out his blueprints. He loves his family though and is a momma’s boy even if he would rather die than admit it. When he’s not doing his own thing, he’s helping his brother behind the scenes with any crazy idea Daniel comes up with. He doesn’t care if it’s a good idea or a bad idea, he’s just along for the ride and eager to see how it ends. He’s completely ace and aro, so he’s not interested in dating like Daniel when he is a teenager, period.

While he has plenty of ideas to cause chaos at the school, he’s also very lazy so he mostly goes along with Daniel and is never the leader of any scheme by choice.

He’s not a super genius but he is the brightest of his siblings, he just lacks motivation. When he’s old enough, he wears contacts because he hates how he looks in his glasses. He doesn’t like the idea of completely fitting into the stereotypical nerd mold especially since his personality already fits the mold.

His main colors are grayish-blue and brown.

( His personality type for reference - INTP 5w4)

Lily Cherylinda Belcher (Yes Tina and Zeke pulled a Renesmee for Lily’s middle name. Just be glad it’s just the middle name XD)

Last born child, firstborn daughter of Tina and Zeke. She’s 4 years younger than Jeff and 6 years younger than Daniel (Tina and Zeke were originally going to stop at 2 but life happened and they decided to see what fate had in store). She has the protective nature of both her parents, Tina’s goody-two-shoes nature, and Zeke’s knack for cooking (not his perfect palette though, that belongs to Jeff much to her disbelief since she knows what he wastes his tastebuds on)  Despite being the youngest, she is the most responsible out of her siblings and most of the time tags along simply to protect her brothers and try to stop things from getting too terrible.

She also tries to use her cuteness to try to help them get a lighter sentence after the metaphorical (sometimes literal) smoke clears. She loves reading about/watching romance but seldom partakes in it herself when she’s of age. She’s too timid and uses schoolwork and helping out her family as an excuse for why she’s too busy for crushes.

She’s unapologetically a daddy’s girl and is eager to help in the kitchen when she can. Since she doesn’t have a perfect palette, she treats recipes like religious texts and doesn’t dare try to add anything outside the recipe. Aside from cooking, she loves gardening as well, especially planting pretty flowers.

Out of all the siblings, she is the best candidate to take over Bob’s Burgers after Louise. However, if Lily decides to take over in the future is still up in the air.

Her main colors are pink and purple. She wears an adorable panda hat that her grandma Linda made for her, similar to Louise’s bunny ears. (Something like this https://akiseohats.com/products/spring-panda-bear-fleece-hat (( the pink and white one, though I might do light pink on darker pink instead)))

( Her personality type for reference - ISFJ 9w8)

Anyway, that’s all that I have so far. I definitely left some questions unanswered though. For example, I never said who loved horses and zombies among the siblings. XD

Maybe I’ll elaborate when I actually design them, for now, though this is all I got.

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Opposites attract (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Warnings: swearing? I don't really think there are any tbh. 

Word count : 2.2k

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Sweet as pie. That’s the way people tend to describe you. So why on earth did you ever think that bad boy Paul Lahote would ever like you? It was stupid really. You’d had a crush on him since you were little and it didn’t seem to stop there. It wasn’t a phase you grew out of. Everything inside you screamed when he was near. But he hardly noticed you at all. None of the guys on the res did. At least, you didn’t think they did. You’d given up hope a long time ago that he would ever see you more than just a little girl he’d grown up with. 

Leah Clearwater, your best friend thought you were stupid. She didn’t understand why someone as nice as you would waste your time liking him anyway. He was hot headed, a flirt and extremely unpredictable. Leah didn’t like him partly because he was a member of Sams group, they had always been friendly but something had changed within some of the guys on the res. They were closer than ever now, like a little gang. It wasn’t only the boys who had changed, you’d notice a change in Leah too, maybe it wad because of all she had gone through, you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Leah and Sam had dated for three years, one day Sam up and left, no explanation, leaving Leah lost and alone. Then he decided to reappear and instead of giving Leah an explanation, broke up with her and started pursuing Leah’s cousin Emily young instead. Let’s just say she didn’t really get along with the guys anymore, or Emily, who she used to be so close with. You were her rock and she was yours. You know she never wanted to see you go through the same heartbreak. 

It was summer break and you and Leah had decided to get away for a few weeks. Being surrounded by the same people day in and out got a bit much. Especially when you lived in the small community you did. You hadn’t gone too far away, only to Vancouver. It was just nice to have some freedom, be somewhere no one knew you. Leah was relieved to get away, it just meant she wouldn’t have to be around Sam as much. While you were studying a higher education, she had started a mechanic apprenticeship with the one and only Sam Uley, it was her best opportunity, even if she didn’t like to spend time near him, that’s what she told you anyway. 

It was your second week in Vancouver, you’d been sightseeing, visiting museums that would help with your studies but you also just took the time to relax. Everything was going amazing. Until that night.

The fancy restaurant had been your idea, you had both been enjoying your time away, but for some reason since arriving in Vancouver you’d been feeling off. Your mood swings were off the charts and you didn’t understand why, you never wanted to take anything out on Leah, you didn’t even have a reason to be moody, and yeah it was summer, but somedays you felt overly hot, like you had a fever and then it would disappear like it was nothing. This friend date was a way for you to make it up to her. She didn’t seem bothered by your change in attitude though, she seemed more concerned if anything.

You were both sat in the restaurant waiting for your food to arrive, talking about silly shit, laughing together obnoxiously, drinks flowing thanks to your fake ID, everything was going perfect until three men came floating through the front door. They were stunning. Absolutely beautiful. At this point you were sure you were staring, one of the men turned his head, caught your eye and winked at you flashing a toothy grin. You blushed and looked away, Leah kicked you under the table.

“What, he’s good looking, the red contact lenses are a bit strange though.” You titled your head to the side pondering the thought, not realising that Leah had gone extremely quiet. Then something weird happened. Your body started heating up like it had done in the past few days, your palms were sweaty, your hands shook a little and your head started to ache. You felt weird. You couldn’t focus. Leah was saying your name but you couldn’t really hear her, it was a little muffled and then…. then nothing. You were feeling alright again. You looked up Leah’s face one of terror mixed with concern. 

“Do you wanna get out of here? I saw a burger van on the way we could just go back to the room.” You nodded. Not feeling the fancy atmosphere anymore. Maybe you should see a Doctor. 

-Leah’s POV-

“Of all the places we could go, there’s leaches here too?” Leah was pissed, this is what she had been hoping to get away from but fate was a bitch. Not only that, but she was pretty sure her best friend was going through the change in front of her very eyes. She guessed she wasn’t the only female shifter anymore. 

At one point she had paused during the dinner. Actually at a couple of points. The first, when she had watched you sip two cocktails like they were water. She was impressed, goodie-too-shoes who? Second, when the leaches walked in through the very crowded restaurant, and third, when the pack back home had heard Leah’s thoughts, the boys were worked up. Sam being Sam, was ordering Leah back immediately, worried she would accidentally phase putting you at risk. Also, they were worried that you would shift for the first time. They all knew how unpredictable it could be. One little thing could set you off and BOOM, shift in front of hundred of humans. Leah being Leah liked to defy Sam, so it came as no shock that she refused to cut the trip short. She did have a valid point though, what would she tell Y/N? 

Leah was glad when she’d manage to persuade you to leave the building, burgers were actually sounding like a good idea right about now. Watching you sit and get wasted was fun, but she wished she could join in sometimes and not have to pretend. She was worried that the Vamps would follow after catching her scent. If they knew what was good for them, they’d stay away.

Leah kept on looking at you, she could sense something was wrong, she knew the signs having gone through them herself. One minute y/n was fine, the next sweating, the next she looked pissed, as much as Leah liked to handle things on her own, this was a big thing to deal with and she knew it, so it came as no surprise to her when Sam mind linked to say that a few of the guys were already on their way to your hotel to bring you guys home. She hated to admit that she was relieved. She looked to you again, now you were happily munching on your food, caught up in thought. 

“Hey Y/N, so uh, some of the guys from the Res are in Vancouver, how funny is that.” Leah laughed nervously, looking at your for any reaction. She watched as you screwed your nose up and then blushed. Her friends eyes widened. 

“That’s cool, Vancouver’s a big place though, I don’t think we have to worry about bumping into them. Weird how they ended up in the same place. I wonder if Paul is here…. I haven’t seen him in forever, it’s bound to have been at least 6 months by now.” Leah rolled her eyes and smiled at her best friend. She was still day dreaming over stupid Paul. She didn’t know what she found so fascinating about him. Sometimes you can’t help having a crush. Leah frowned. She knew all about how it could end up. 

“Who knows Y/N, fate is a funny thing, I wouldn’t worry about Paul, he’s normally caught up in his ego to notice other people anyway, if he didn’t notice you now he’s a lost cause, cause girl you look hawt.” Leah grinned and nudged Y/N with her arm, Y/N nudged her back and chuckled. It was almost 11pm by the time you made it back to the hotel lobby, you’d only just stepped in when you heard a noise from behind you. Leah turned around. Standing on the opposite side of the road were the Vampires that she’d seen only a couple of hours earlier. She growled lowly under her breath. Her mind focused on one thing only. Keeping you safe. 

“It’s okay Leah were almost there, just putting our clothes on.” Embry. His voice came through the link. Good, they were almost here. Hopefully when the vamps caught whiff of more shifters they’d leave for good. There’s no way they could shift in the middle of a city without being seen. 

Leah had told Y/N to wait at the bar for her while she “Took a call outside,” which really meant she was just waiting for the guys and making sure the vamps didn’t get through the door. When she turned her head she saw her friend chatting to the the bar man, flirting and sipping on more cocktails. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, god you were amazing. Not a care in the world. She frowned knowing soon enough your life wouldn’t be as simple. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard growling, the boys had arrived and obviously the Vamps now got the memo because they ran off when they realised there was back up. 

Leah could finally relax, Embry, Quil, Jake and oh god.. Paul.. arrived just in time. Grinning at the she wolf like the idiots they were. 

“Took you long enough.” Leah smirked and elbowed Jake playfully. Paul was about to retort but he stopped and sniffed the air. The rest of the present pack looked confused. Leah turned around and noticed her friend walking towards them all with a shocked expression on her half drunk face. 

Then it all made sense. 

-Paul’s POV- 

God what a mess. Paul was pissed off as per. He’d had to cancel a date he had on his one night off to go and save Leah’s and Y/N’s ass’ in Vancouver. Of all nights. He obviously didn’t hesitate when Sam gave the orders, as much as it pissed him off he knew that if another pack member needed him he’d do everything he could to help, you were family. Not to mention, he as well as everyone else, didn’t need some new pup exposing the tribe secrets. Shifting in public would be good for no one. 

On the way the boys talked through the link, communicating with Leah periodically, making sure the Vamps had stayed well away. 

“So, when was the last time anyone actually saw Y/N?” Jake was the first to start the conversation. When was the last time Paul had seen you? He couldn’t remember, if he had to think about it, probably before her shifted, it had been a while, he knew you’d been studying higher education, and with all of the pack stuff, he didn’t tend to see anyone else other than his wolf brothers and sister. 

“I saw her not long ago, she was in the convenience store picking up groceries for her Pops, and damnnn she’s changed, not a little girl anymore.” Quil joked through the link, wolf whistling. Paul smirked, yeah right, he had always thought you were pretty, but you couldn’t have changed that much, you were still the little, younger dork that had grown up on the res. 

The conversation was cut short as they reached the outline of the trees, Sam had tied a bag of clothes around each of the wolves so when they shifted they could change instead of walking around in the nude. Maybe it would fly in the woods back home, but not in the middle of a city. They made light work of getting to the hotel and scaring the blood suckers away. Pussies. When they met Leah at the entrance. Paul wasn’t really focusing on the banter, he was too distracted by a familiar but heavenly scent. He sniffed trying to place it and then he saw her. 

Walking towards the group was Y/N. Her eyes a little glossy Paul could smell the alcohol, it wasn’t however, strong enough to cover up the heavenly scent he could smell radiating off the pup to be. 

"It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend.” 

Jacobs words about imprinting ran in Paul’s head and his world suddenly tilted. The pack paused behind him, the wolves howling in his head through the bond. Leah looked shocked and the other guys just looked stupidly happy. 

Y/N was Paul’s imprint.

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As per usual, please let me know what you thought in the comments below and if you want to be tagged in future let me know xx 

PT2 --------------- click here!

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 6: I’ve Got a Bad Queso Loving You

Pining. Food that may or may not be a disaster. The end of an era.

Also people actually wanted to be tagged for updates?? That makes my heart so happy <3

Tag List: @heyoitslysso @unknown-and-invisible

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

@lumosinlove

  It was weird, walking into the studio by himself for the first time. Finn kept expecting Logan to be right by his side like always and it hurt a little every time Finn remembered. He walked into the kitchens where he was greeted by a sunny smile and kind eyes and dimples.

He still missed Logan, but it was hard to mope with Leo Knut around.

“Hey,” Leo greeted, motioning for Finn to join him at the station. “Welcome to the final four.”

“Thanks. It feels weird here.”

Leo hummed. “Quiet, right?”

“Definitely less hectic.” Finn agreed, leaning his hip against the counter. “So what are we cooking today?”

“Well, why don’t you tell me? We’re cooking for someone special to you. I’m assuming that’s Logan, right?” At Finn’s nod a strange, unreadable expression flashed across Leo’s face before he continued. “Okay, so what types of food do you think of when you think of him?”

Finn thought about it, then smiled. “Our first date – after years and years of being friends and crushing on each other but refusing to do anything about it – was at a Mexican restaurant. We were on a roadie and went to go get dinner together and I was so frustrated at this point that I kind of just blurted, ‘Is this a date?’” Finn laughed a little at the memory. “And Lo, he just stared at me with those big green eyes of his for a moment and said, ‘I sure hope so.’ And that was it. No more drama, no more fuss. Just those two sentences – that was all we needed.”

The look from earlier was back on Leo’s face. Finn still didn’t know what it meant.

“I think we can definitely work with that.” He said finally. “How about we elevate a Mexican dish? Something to be meaningful but to also showcase your cooking? I've got a few recipes in mind. What about grilled citrus-marinated chicken?”

Finn wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“Alright. Pulled pork tamales with corn salsa? Polenta stacks? Chipotle Mahi Mahi burrito bowl?”

“Oh!” Finn said excitedly. “I like that one. Logan calls me Fish sometimes.”

Leo laughed. “Why?”

“Nicknames are kind of a thing in hockey. It’s considered weird if you don’t have one. I’m Harzy, Harz, Fish, and probably a few more that I’m forgetting.”

“And Logan?”

“He’s Tremz or Tremzy, usually.” He looked over at the blond, propping his chin in his hand and smiling. “You want a nickname?”

“Oh, god. With a last name like Knut, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to go off of.” He laughed, turning to head towards the pantry. Finn followed after him like the love-struck puppy he was.

“Nut. Nutty. Peanut. Peanut butter. Nutter Butter. Honey bunches of nut – “

“How have you already come up with so many?” Leo stretched to grab a bowl off the top shelf, his t-shirt shifting up to reveal pale skin Finn desperately wanted to reach out and touch.

“I’m a professional hockey player.”

“Fair enough. Can you head to the spices and grab smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder?”

Finn grabbed the ingredients and met Leo back at the station. “Ready to get started? You’ll get the printed recipe and you can take as many notes as you want now and use them tonight.”

Finn clicked his pen in response, earning another smile. “Let’s do this.”

“So we’re going to combine olive oil, chipotle chiles, garlic, smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder into a bowl and whisk it really good. Then you can add the mahi mahi and toss it in there. Next we’re going to place it in the fridge while we start the rice.” Leo covered the bowl and set it in the fridge before reaching for a pot and turning the stove on.

“Add coconut milk and some coconut water to a pot and bring it to a low boil before adding rice, salt, unsweetened coconut and coconut oil. Stir to combine, then place the lid on the pot and turn the heat down to the lowest setting possible. Following so far?”

Finn nodded, definitely feeling a little overwhelmed.

Leo gave him a reassuring smile. “You got this. Next, let the rice to cook for ten minutes then turn the heat off completely. Let the rice sit on the stove, covered for another 20 minutes, then remove the lid and fluff the rice with a fork. Add the cilantro and lime juice – “

“No cilantro.”

Leo looked up from his pot. “What?”

“No cilantro.” Finn repeated. “Lo doesn’t like cilantro.”

“Got it. No cilantro. I think we’ve got enough seasoning without it.” Leo grabbed another bowl and pushed some ingredients towards him on the counter.

“Now we’re going to make the salsa. Add the diced mango, chopped strawberries, jalapeño, lime juice, pinch of cayenne and a pinch of salt to a bowl. Toss it, cover it, and keep it in the fridge until ready to serve. Now we’re going to cook that fish.” Leo grabbed the fish out of the fridge and sent him a sly look. “Hopefully this doesn’t count as cannibalism.”

Finn laughed loudly. “Oh man, wait until Logan hears that.”

Leo fiddled with the settings on the grill, which made Finn a little nervous. As seen in the build your own burger competition, he wasn’t the best with grills. He’d scared away all the ducks with how loud he screamed when he turned the grill on too high and flames erupted from it.

“You’re going to want a medium heat to cook this fish. Once the grill is nice and hot, add the mahi mahi, skin side facing up. Cook these for about 4-5 minutes and then flip them and cook until they’re crisp and mostly cooked through. This is super important: remove the skin.  We’re going to be cutting this fish into chunks and having pieces of fish skin in there would be really gross.

“Last thing is to plate these. All you’re going to do is divide the rice among your tortilla bowls and add the lettuce, black beans, and corn. Divide up the fish and then top each bowl with salsa, queso, and a dollop of sour cream. And you’re done!” Leo looked over at Finn, who was still writing notes. “Not so bad, right?”

Finn gave him a blank stare, then ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Go over it again one more time?”

“Sure.” Leo pushed one of the plates over to Finn. “Want to try some first?”

“Fuck yes.”

***

Logan stood in the studio hallway yet again, waiting with the rest of the families the final four contestants were cooking for tonight. It was going to be weird, being on the opposite side of the judging table. But at least he wasn’t cooking.

They finally got the cue to enter the kitchen and his eyes immediately found Finn, who was grinning madly and running right at him – whether he was allowed to or not. Logan laughed as Finn collided with him, hugging him close. “You just saw me this morning.”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

Logan melted a little at that and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

Finn whined, shooting a longing look over at Leo. “Lo, you would not believe – “

“Please head back to your stations, recruits!” Dorcas called.

“Gotta go.” Finn sighed, taking a step back. Logan gave his hand a squeeze.

“You’ve got this.”

“Recruits, tonight you’ll be creating dishes for your loved ones. And your team leaders, of course. You can use any notes you’ve taken. You have an hour to complete this task and your time starts… now!”

Logan took his seat at the judges table (weird) and watched as Finn dashed off to the pantry. He made small talk with the other family members as time began to tick down much slower than he remembered from his time on the show. He turned his head when Leo sat down next to him and smiled almost nervously.

“I hope you’re not too mad at me for last week.”

“Nah,” Logan said with a shrug, doing everything he could think of to slow his heartrate down. “I deserved it. I served you guys raw pizza dough.”

“Only because I suggested you start over.”

Logan laughed incredulously. “Because my pizza wasn’t a pizza! Seriously, don’t worry about it.” He looked over at Finn, who was shying away from the grill as he threw the fish on it. “I’m glad he made it instead of me. He’s been so excited to be on this show.”

“He’s really improved a lot. You both did.”

“I’m still not sure I trust either of us in the kitchen.”

“Baby steps.” Leo said with a smile. “You’re more capable than you think.”

He glanced at the clock and let his voice carry to the contestants. “One minute left, recruits!”

Finn glanced up from his plating, cursed, and started working faster.

“Five, four, three, two, one, time’s up! Stop what you’re doing and step away from your plates!”

“I can see why you like this so much.” Logan said, eyes still on Finn as he looked down at his plates critically. “You get to sit here, no stress, and eat people’s food. This is the dream.”

“Not on this show. You should’ve tried some of the earlier dishes this season. I got food poisoning twice.”

“You did what?”

“It might’ve been three times if I’d eaten that chicken you tried to serve in the first challenge.” Leo teased.

“Why isn’t giving a chef food poisoning an immediate elimination?”

“Because then we’d have very few recruits left, and that would be a very short season.”

Finn set down his plates, smiling nervously. Logan looked down and smiled softly. “Mexican food.”

“No cilantro, just how you like it.”

God, Logan didn’t deserve him.

“Let’s see how this tastes.” Leo said, looking down at his plate. “The presentation is really nice.”

They both took bites of their food. The fish was dry, but Logan thought the rest of it was really good.

“It’s under-seasoned a little bit,” Leo commented. “And the fish is a little dry, but your salsa is perfect and the ratios of everything else in the bowl is very nice.”

Logan grinned up at Finn. “I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing this recipe home.”

“We need move on to the next contestant. Nice job, Finn.”

Finn beamed and grabbed his plates back.

***

“And the chef who will be leaving us tonight is…” Logan held Finn’s hand and waited for Leo to finish.

“Finn. I’m sorry, your time as a recruit is over. Please turn in your apron.”

Finn sighed, squeezed Logan’s hand, and stepped forward.

“It was really close, but in the end the under-seasoned and overcooked fish did you in.” Leo said, looking apologetic. “I’ve really enjoyed having you on the show. You’ve been a joy to teach.”

“Thanks for having me.” Finn said, trying to be cheerful as he handed over his apron. “I had a blast.”

After the cameras stopped rolling, Logan and Finn made sure to find Leo before they left. He was scrubbing down the grill and looked up when he noticed them. “So this is goodbye, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Logan replied, unabashedly staring and trying to memorize everything he could. Was it weird to miss someone when you hadn’t even said goodbye yet? When they were standing right in front of you? 

Finn piped up, “If you’re ever in Gryffindor, look us up. We’d love to see you.”

“Same for when you come to New York for games.” Leo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Here,” Finn grabbed his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number? We can send you our team schedule when we get it.”

Finn, you’re a genius.

“That would be great! I, uh, I really liked having y’all on the show. It’d be nice to see each other again.” His cheeks were red again, and Logan had to bite back a whine. He wanted to kiss those red spots so badly.

But this definitely wasn’t the time. There were people everywhere, two of them were probably leaving in the morning, and they didn’t know when they’d see him again. Or if he even liked them back.

Fuck.

Both Logan and Finn had forgotten just how awful the guessing game really was.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

6. A little jelaousy (m)

"And then I'll meet with Kikuo. He's the son of a friend of my aunt's, he's from Tokyo and he now lives in Seoul and doesn't know a person here. I eat near your studio, should I visit you after then?" Chichi tries to talk to her boyfriend during breakfast, but Sunoh just glanced at his phone. Lately he was only working. She was glad he had the job, but she barely saw him lately. He had been working on the new albums for weeks and Chichi was often home alone. Her foot was still injured and she still cannot dance ballet. So she was happy to meet Kikuo and get some social contacts again. "Sunoh?" She asked and she sighed. "I'm sorry. I have to go," Sunoh said and stood up. He kissed Chichi, took his things and left the apartment. Chichi was left alone ... once again.

Before meeting Kikuo, Chichi put on makeup and wore her most beautiful dress. She did it for herself, not for Kikuo, because she hadn't been out for a long time. Because of her foot, she was unable to drive or simply go outside. And Sunoh had lately hardly time that they could go out for a date. So it was just nice for her to do something outside again. With a taxi she drove to the restaurant where she met Kikuo and she looked again at her phone and hoped that Sunoh had called in the meantime. But it was quiet, no message, no phone call. The last time it was so quiet was when Sunoh was in the military. Kikuo was no stranger to her. She had known him since she was a child. When Yuta visited his sister, he was there sometimes. They had always got on well and during the time when Sunoh was in the military, she had often visited her family in Japan and met him now and then. "Chichi!" Kikuo immediately hugged his friends and smiled. "Hey Kikuo. Nice to have you here." Chichi was really happy to see a friend again and it always felt like family with him. "You look good, so healthy," he said and the two sat down at the table. "Well, I have to be careful because I hardly move because of my foot. So I should start a diet slowly." Chichi sighed and pointed to the bandage on her ankle. "You were very thin before, I can't imagine that was healthy." Kikuo was particularly concerned when she was in Japan and Sunoh in the military. She ate so little, at first she was so depressed and cried a lot. The whole family was worried about her. After Sunoh's departure she was so thin that Yuta could hardly let her out on her own because he was afraid that any moment she out because of her weakness. "I'm a ballet dancer. Being thin is my job." Chichi shrugged, but Kikuo shook his head. "Still. You look good now. Better. You have color back in your face." Kikuo smiled and encouraged her that she was now on the right track. "Thanks ..." she says shyly and blushed a little with embarrassment. "Where is your big love? When will I finally get to know him?", Kikuo asked. He never really got to know him. Maybe he met him once for a short moment four years ago. But a lot of time has passed since then. "He's working a lot right now." Chichi looks sadly at the table and she tries not to get emotional. She missed Sunoh, she missed his presence. He was overworked, tired, and exhausted. She wanted to help him, but there was nothing she could do. It wasn't like school anymore where she could do his homework. That was an area she didn't know, she couldn't do the work for him. "Hopefully I'll get to know him soon." Kikuo was confident and didn't want to stress anyone. He lived in Seoul now and at some point he will meet Sunoh. "Yes I hope. Sunoh and I will be together for almost 6 years ... unbelievable how time flies."

Para and Sunoh were just leaving the company to get something for lunch when Para's phone rang. "Bring me a chicken instead of a burger," Kiwoo said on the phone when Para answered. "Why don't you call your brother yourself?", Para asked with a grin and turned to Sunoh, who was now looking attentively at him. "His phone is here with me. He forgot it again." Kiwoo rolled his eyes and Para nodded understandably. "Okay, we'll bring you some chicken." When Para hung up, he turned to Sunoh. "Your little brother doesn't want a burger." "His manager probably reminded him that he is on a diet." Sunoh shook his head. He didn't quite get along with the whole idol world. He loved making music, but he was worried about Kiwoo. He exercised day and night, he barely slept, and he worked hard. Kiwoo looked extremely up at their father. Even as a child he loved watching the old videos of Jaehyun and he wanted to achieve what his father did. Meanwhile, Jaehyun never pressured his children over it. He always wanted his children to freely choose which way to go. But Kiwoo also decided to become an idol. And the hype was already high. He had a fan base since he was announced as a rookie. People are already waiting in front of his dorm. The fact that he is also the son of Jaehyun makes him even more famous even before his debut. It was harder for him to go out now, so Para and Sunoh have to go out to get some food. "Tell me ..." begins to speak Para carefully. Sunoh just looked over in surprise and wonders why his boss is suddenly so shy. "What's going on between Miga and Hyunjin?" Para still didn't seem to have lost interest in Miga. "I don't know ..." Sunoh shrugged, trying to turn the subject off. "Hey, sorry that I'm so pushy. But you are friends with Hyunjin and Miga is your sister. I really like Miga and ..." But before Para could say more, Sunoh interrupted him. "Hey Para, you're my boss and I really like you. But I don't interfere in Miga's love life. You can't imagine how much drama we had because of it. Miga is very secretive about that, even if I am the first to find out when she's in a relationship. But if I help every friend to couple him with my sister, Miga would already have thousands of relationships. I hope you understand." Sunoh was reluctant to rebel against his boss, but Miga means so much to him. "I understand. Thank you anyway. Your parents could have had more daughters," said Para with a wink. "I think Dad wanted even more daughters when Mum was pregnant with the twins. But fate gave them three sons." Sunoh laughed and the two went into the bar. They ordered and the two men talked a bit about exercising. Para was well trained and Sunoh didn't want to lose his form after the military, so he often got tips from him. After they had the orderd, they went out and were back on their way to the company when Para suddenly nudged him a little bit. "Isn't that Chichi?" He pointed to the girl who was hugging someone tightly. Sunoh froze, he couldn't move. Many emotions contracted in him and he didn't know what to do. "Hey, talk to her. Meanwhile, I'll bring up the food. Just come along when everything is cleared up." Para showed understanding and took the things from him. But Sunoh had lost his voice.

5 minutes before: "Are you really okay? Shouldn't I put you in a taxi?", Kikuo asked and looked worriedly at Chichi's foot. "No, I can already walk a few steps by myself. I want to stop by Sunoh's company and check whether he has eaten something." Chichi smiled gently and at the same time worried about her boyfriend. "Chichi ... before I forget ..." Suddenly he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and gave it to her. "It's from your aunt. It's an address, a reference to your mother. It's the address of the contact details of the person who deposited the money. Your aunt doesn't think it's your mother's address, but it might help. But don't tell Yuta about it. Apparently they've argued about the subject many times." Kikuo sighed and gave her the envelope. Chichi couldn't believe it. She still had a name from Sana, but she didn't want Sana to risk her trust in Yuta. After all, her father was finally happy with her and her half-sister Asami was not supposed to grow up with separated parents. "Thanks. I won't let anyone know about it." She put the envelope in her pocket and then looked up at him. "Thank you so much, it means so much to me." So she hugged Kikuo out of gratitude. She was so happy to receive information and now she hoped that one day she could meet her mother. After a long and grateful hug, Kikuo broke away from her. "I really have to go now. See you again soon?" And when Chichi nodded, Kikuo was already gone. But when she wanted to go, Sunoh stood in front of her.

"Who was that?" He asked and looked horrified at Chichi. "Kikuo." She told him about the meeting and she was surprised that he was suddenly in front of her and also about his reaction. "Why did he hug you like that?" Sunoh was really angry and Chichi felt intimidated. "He helped me," she said, and tears came up in her. "Chichi, why don't you let me help you?" Sunoh was so angry and suddenly his figure looked even bigger than it already was. "You're not here! Besides, you can't help me with this matter!" Several tears ran down her pink cheeks. "But just because I'm working a lot doesn't mean you can date other guys." Sunoh became blind with jealousy and no longer saw reality. At that moment Chichi saw a taxi and waved it over. She was so hurt by Sunoh that she could no longer see him. She just wanted to go home. "Do you just want to drive away now?", Sunoh asked appalled. "You have no idea how much you're hurting me right now. You are welcome to go home with me now, but I think your work will be more important to you." She waited a moment and Sunoh just stared at her. He didn't do anything. He didn't even respond. "I thought so ..." She got into the taxi and drove off. 

She cried the whole taxi ride and even the driver handed her some tissues. It's been a long time since she and Sunoh had such a fight. She couldn't remember the last time it was so bad. "Is someone picking you up?" Asked the taxi driver as he parked in front of her house. He saw that she was still crying and he saw her injured foot. "All right, I can do it myself." She tried to smile and she paid. She just wanted to go home and hide in her bed. So she limps to the entrance, unlocked the door and pressed the button to call the elevator. When it was finally there, she was surprised who was in the elevator. "Chichi, what happened?" Y/N and Miga were there and they immediately pulled the girl to them. Apparently they were just coming from the garage and driving up to Miga's apartment. Chichi suddenly began to cry out all of her frustration. Y/N immediately took her in her arms and stroked her head. When the three arrived on the floor, Miga immediately opened the door of her apartment and they went inside. Y/N and Chichi sat down on the couch and Miga brought tissues. "What happened?" Miga asks carefully again. "Sunoh..." Chichi sobbed and it was difficult to find words. "Sunoh is angry because I met an old friend from Japan. I even told him about it, but he wasn't listening because he is working so hard." She continued to sob and buried her face in Y/N's shoulder. "Oh no," Y/N said then and sighed. "What is Mum?" Asked Miga in surprise and looked at her mother. "Seems like Sunoh not only got his looks from his father, but his jealousy as well. Is there anything Sunoh doesn't get from him?" Y/N shook her head and strokedChichi's back to calm her down. "Dad is jealous?" Miga asked and her mother nodded. "You can't imagine the little things your Dad got into a drama about. Apparently Sunoh inherited that." Y/N shook her head and was a little angry that Sunoh acted like Jaehyun did before. "And how did it get better?" Asked Chichi, sobbing. "It took years. But it was also a little different because that was the thing with Doyoung." "Uncle Doyoung? MUM! What happened, please? Is that why Hayoung doesn't like you so much?" Miga didn't know the full story of her parents and was a bit surprised. "I think I'll tell you another time," said Y/N gently and Miga understood. "Should I talk to him?", Y/N asks and looks down at Chichi, but she shook her head. "No, it's okay." "But I'm talking to him! He never should do such an idiotic thing to you again." Miga was upset and wanted to go straight to her brother to teach him a lesson. She hadn't taught him that. Sunoh was always the perfect friend, especially because he always had to watch Miga get hurt and he never wanted to do that to the person he loved. And Sunoh loved Chichi, nothing he loved more than her. He never wanted to hurt her. "I think I should sort this out on my own." Chichi wiped her tears from her cheek and straightened up. "Come on, let's eat something. I'll cook something for us." Y/N then smiled gently, stroked Chichi's hair one more time, and then went into the kitchen. But then Miga immediately sat down with her. "If there is anything or Sunoh does something stupid again, let me know. You can always come to me." Miga meant that very seriously. Chichi has always been like a sister to her. So she took her side. "I know Sunoh is just stressed," Chichi said with a sigh. "He still can't let you feel that." Miga remained serious and it was clear to her that she would write an angry message to her brother as soon as possible.

Sunoh could no longer think clearly at work. He was no longer focused and his thoughts always went to Chichi. Especially when he got an angry message from his sister, he knew things are worse than they were before. He didn't want to be like that, he didn't want to see Chichi so hurt, but this guy who hugged Chichi so tightly made him angry too. Little did he know that the sight made him so angry that he lost his composure so much. Even when driving home he almost had an accident because he drove over the traffic light when it was red. People yelled at him, but he didn't hear. He only had Chichi in his head, not a second passed without her. His whole body was sweating, his heart was racing. His thoughts were confused and went from "he must do everything to make her forgive him" to "what did she do with this guy". He doesn't know when he was last so beside himself. When he unlocked the door, his heart was beating very quickly. He didn't know how his girlfriend would react. He doesn’t like to see her so hurt, especially if he was the reason. He went into the apartment, put down his key and his things, then he undressed. Chichi was standing in the living room. Her fingertips played uncertainly with each other and her large dark eyes seek him. "Chichi," he said quietly and he saw that she was fighting back tears. She doesn't say anything, just stared at him while Sunoh was a mix of guilt and jealousy. He walked up to her and pinned her to the wall. Her arms were raised and Sunoh immediately searched her lips. He had so much emotion, but he just wanted to give her love. Chichi was surprised by his aggressiveness, but still his tenderness, no sooner had she touched her. He was powerful and tender. Hateful and full of love. But he only let Chichi feel the positive. But Sunoh wasn't sure how his power affected her. Sometimes he didn't feel himself. She was so much smaller than him, so much more fragile. He realizes that he may have gone too far and he pulled away from her and immediately took a step back. "I'm sorry, I'm too..." He looked at the floor with shame, but Chichi didn't understand. She was glad to feel him again, his skin on hers was happiness for her. She wanted him to pull her close. She wanted him to need her. He hadn't done anything wrong now and she wanted to show him that. She walked up to him, jumped up on him, and kissed him. Only this time she was the one who was rough. Her lips were tight on his, her grip was tight around his neck. At that moment he realized so much what he had missed and he also realized that she had missed him too. So he grabbed her and put her on the sofa. He knelt in front of her and put his hands on her knees. Slowly he pushed up her dress and reached for her panties. Chichi tilted her head back and Sunoh moaned softly as the fabric slid over her legs. He stroked her thighs while slowly spreading her legs. And everything that came after that was just hot. Only their moans sounded in the room, it only smelled of them. All senses were captured and both melted into one another. After Sunoh licked his girlfriend to orgasm, they continued in the bedroom. They fucked and let their emotions and passion run wild. It wasn't the original sex they usually had. Both showed how much they missed each other, how much they needed each other.

When the two were out of breath in bed and hugged tightly together, he stroked her cheek. "I don't know what's going on with me today. I'm sorry." Sunoh sighed and he's thinking over everything he's done in the past few days. "If you've listened to me in the little time we've seen each other, then we could have saved ourselves a lot of problems." Chichi sighed and ran her fingers along his chest. "I've worked too much. I put so much pressure on myself because it's also about my brother’s album and my brother's debut. I don't want Kiwoo to have problems or difficulties because of me. I just want to give my best for my little brother." He sighed and Chichi was surprised how much had accumulated in him. "I understand, but Kiwoo will do it." She smiled and then kissed him gently. But then she got up and disappeared briefly from the bedroom. Sunoh was quite confused for a moment, but then Chichi came back with an envelope. "Kikuo gave this to me from my aunt." She handed him the white envelope and Sunoh accepted it in wonder. He took out the note and read everything. "That's a name and an address in Japan. That's in Minamiosumi, in the far south. What's there?" Sunoh put the note back and handed it back to Chichi. "The person always deposited the money that I received. The person is related to my mother." Chichi's eyes suddenly sparkled and somehow she had a glimmer of hope for a long time. "What do you want to do with it?", Sunoh asked further. Chichi smiled and looked deep into her boyfriends eyes. "Are we going to Japan?"

new generation masterlist

masterlist

[destroy-the-cannon]

IT’S HERE!

Hey everyone! It’s finally happening. The long awaited Olivia x MC fit is happening. I’ll leave the rest of my thoughts as the bottom as not to bore you, but I’ll put one tiny thing here: there’s actually no Olivia in this chapter. I know, I know! She’s the whole reason you’re here. But I had to do a chapter without her to set up for something you’ll see in a future chapter. I promise, it’ll prove worth your wait. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get to it!

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, queer romance, eventual lemon(s).

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, death, illness. Language. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Paige couldn’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t working towards something. She busted her ass all through highschool, working her way into a scholarship at a decent university. From there, she had concocted a simple, five-step plan:

-Graduate with honors

-Get into a fantastic business school

-Get an amazing, ultra-high paying job

-Pay off debt

-Buy a good house for her parents, and live out the rest of her life comfortably.

But no. Nearly a month after she graduated from college, her dad got diagnosed. As he spent more and more time in the hospital, the bills rolled in. Charge upon charge upon charge, until Paige’s mother had spent up their retirement funds and was looking into getting a second job. So, naturally, Paige stepped up. She got a job working at a tiny bar downtown, and sent her every spare dime to her family, rooming with strangers, because all her friends still lived back home in California.

And then, just as Paige thought her existence couldn’t get any bleaker, it did.

She was sent one final charge, then never any again.

After that, she threw herself into working extra hours at the bar, no longer having the energy to look into jobs anywhere else. For two years, she worked and slept, worked and slept. The only person she ever really talked to was Daniel, a friend who was good for cracking jokes and aimless chatter, but not ideal as emotional support. So, completely on her own, she did her best to heal. She cried till she couldn’t, screamed, cried some more, and did anything she could to try and lessen the complete suffocation that was her grief. Each day, she did whatever she could to wake up feeling a bit lighter, until she felt almost nothing at all. It took two years, but she was finally starting to feel like a person again.

That’s when she met three of the five people who were going to change her life forever.

That day, it was just the men who happened to be in the restaurant. This did make sense, because it was a bachelor party, after all. Not that that was easy to tell, just looking at them. Their clothes ranged from a simple denim-and-white-jeans look to a three piece suit, leather shoes, and a pocket square. Honestly, who still wore pocket squares? Paige shuddered just looking at it. It seemed that she was dealing with a typical group of douchey, overgrown frat boys. It would suck while she was serving them, but usually at least one of them would remember to leave a decent tip. She sighed and strode over, pulling out her pad.

“Hi, what can I-” She broke off for a tiny moment before resuming. “What can I get for you today?” Trying to cover her tracks, she flashed a bright smile.

The reason she had broken off was sitting there, watching her. He wasn’t dressed particularly flashily, in his garnet sweater and khakis, but he had an air of quiet importance about him, something almost noble. His posture was perfect, his hair done with not a strand out of place, a neatly shaved face, a perfectly straight and clean collar. It was the little things about him, things that one didn’t typically find in a crappy downtown bar, that made Paige even warier. He grinned a small, curious grin at her. Before she could respond, the man in the suit began to speak.

“So firstly, I’d like to ask about your wine. I’m assuming there’s a separate list?” Mr. Denim and a (quite cute, actually) guy in a black button down traded amused glances over Sir Suit’s shoulder.

“Sorry, we don’t. We have a good selection of beer an-” He cut her off with a horrified look. She’d never seen such a prim rage before; she had to stop herself from snorting.

“There’s nothing else? I’ve never even heard of some of these labels before! I’d think I’d like to speak to your mana-”

“Tariq.”

The sweatered man, the quiet one, lay a hand on Mr. Suit’s shoulder. His voice was warm, strong, and seemed to contain just a hint of some foreign accent that Paige couldn’t place. He smiled apologetically at her.

“That’s completely fine. We’ll take a bottle of your finest whiskey, and four glasses.”

“Great. Will you be having anything to eat with that?” She was making some strangely intense eye contact with The Sweater (she’d have to try and catch his name) when Tariq cut in obliviously. She was really starting to hate this guy.

“Yes, we’ll each take a filet mignon, medium rare, prepared with a bearnaise sauce.”

Paige blinked. The man smiled blandly at her as though this was a perfectly normal request.

“Sir, the closest thing we have to a filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

Now it was Tariq’s turn to blanch in horror. “Burger?”

“Sounds great! We’ll take four.” Mr. Denim cut in, shooting a glare Tariq’s way.

“Right then. I’ll go put your order in, and I’ll be right back with that whiskey.”

She turned and made her way back to the kitchen, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to take over her face. Taking out Tariq, this seemed like a group of pretty decent guys. Usually, she expressed nothing more than a vague sort of interest in customers, a kind of unattached curiosity. But listening to them laughing and yelling, she couldn’t help but to want to pull up a chair and join them.

Sighing, she pulled out their glasses and whiskey. She was putting in their order when she felt eyes on her. Without moving, she peered out of the corner of her eye.

The three friends were talking, except for the quiet one. His eyes traced the curve of her neck, and her spine tingled with awareness of his every move. She arched her form just a bit, trying to be as subtle as she could, and his eyes slipped lower.

Just as she was about to turn, his friend elbowed him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the quiet one smiled and turned his attention back to the group. She didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered back for just a half second, darkening, before he focused back in on the booth’s conversation.

She sighed, and grabbed the whiskey. Oh, well. This was going to be a boring night, but hopefully, in terms of tip, a fruitful one.

* * *

“Excuse me?”

Paige turned to find the sweatered man from before.

“I think we’re about to head out, and I didn’t want to do so without apologizing.”

The bar had emptied out completely, and the two were completely alone. Sweater’s friends were jostling around out front.

“Apologizing?” She frowned. “For what?”

“Well, I know we kept you late, and my friends can be pretty…” He paused. “Demanding.”

“Demanding, huh? Well, it was nothing I can’t handle. I’m used to it by now.”

“Well, be that as it may, I’d still like to apologize. We’re about to head out to a club right near here. Could I buy you a drink?”

“Which club are you going to?”

“Oh, well…” He winced. “We were actually hoping that you could help with that. We’re not from around here.”

“In that case, I know just where you should go.” She scanned him with a critical eye before making a decision. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that would particularly enjoy some wild party spot. There’s a great little secret cove right near here you might like.”

He grinned in relief. “That sounds amazing. I’m getting just a bit tired of the traditional bachelor party antics. Why don’t you lead the way?”

“Sure, that sounds awesome! Let me just get out of this uniform, and we can get going.” She turned to go, then stopped short. “Before we go, can I get your name? I’m Paige.”

She turned to offer her hand, expecting a firm shake. To her surprise, he leaned down and actually kissed her knuckles. An honest to god bow-and-kiss. As soon as he’d done it, his eyes widened in embarrassment before shrinking into a wince. “Sorry, that’s an, ah, custom. Where I come from. It’s tradition. I just- just forgot you don’t do it here. I’m Liam.” He was clearly quite mortified, but Paige smiled. She thought it cute, and made her feel oddly regal. There was something so gentle in the gesture, it was almost reverent. Sweet. Grinning, Paige ducked back into the backroom, changing into an emerald-green dress she kept in her bag. She paused for a moment to check her reflection, fluffing out her hair and dress. Confident, she followed Liam into the night air.

As soon as she stepped out, the first thing she heard was: “Daaang! The waitress is hot!”, quickly followed by a more earnest: “That uniform didn’t do you justice.” Before she could respond, Liam stepped forward.

“Hey. Paige is a guest among us, and I doubt she appreciates you commenting on her appearance like that.”

If he didn’t before, he now had her full trust.

She was pretty used to receiving comments like that by now, and it didn’t particularly bother her. At least these guys didn’t seem to have any cruel intent. She got much worse in clubs or on the street. But it was rare to see another man stick up for her like that. Liam barely even knew her, and yet he was ready to call out his friends for her. Instantly, she found she liked him even more.

The guys stuck their head down and muttered apologies. They seemed sincere enough, and clearly eager to earn a fresh start, so Paige let it go.

“So, the waitress is coming with us?” Mr. Denim piped up, looking Paige over.

“Actually, we’re going with her. She’s picked out our next destination.”

“So she’s our tour guide now.” Denim raised his brow. He didn’t seem malicious, per se, just skeptical.

“Hey, Paige very graciously agreed to show us around, so play nice.” Liam turned to her. “Lead the way!”

“I’d love to, but can I get the rest of you guys’ names first? I can’t be referring to you three as ‘you there’ this whole night.”

“I’m Maxwell! Maxwell Beaumont.” Button Down grinned and shook her hand enthusiastically.

“I’m Drake Walker.” Denim stepped forward and also shook her hand, though much less enthusiastically.

“Great. And you’re Tariq, right?” She pointed at the third man, who was smiling at her in a way that did actually make her just a tad uncomfortable. He nodded, his smile growing.

“Awesome. Let’s get going!” She spun around, and they followed her into the night.

   * * *

They emerged from a small swath of greenery into a beautiful little cove. The starlight shone on the ocean, and the whole place seemed mysterious and magical. Like anything could happen.

“We should build a bonfire!” Drake looked happier than he’d been all night.

“I am will not be engaging in manual labor.” Tariq looked like he was about to throw up.

“I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’m going to go build a bonfire.” He practically skipped off. Paige could’ve sworn she heard a giggle. The men turned to take in their surroundings.

“This place is awesome! Skinny dippiiiiiing!”

“Keep your pants on, Maxwell.”

Liam turned to Paige as the other two bickered. “Thank you for taking us here, Paige. I can tell the guys are enjoying themselves already.”

“Forget your friends. Do you like it here?”

“I love it.” He was completely sincere.

“This is my secret spot, so I’m really trusting you here.” She was teasing, but he looked her directly in the eye as he responded. “I will do everything I can to be worthy of that trust.”

There was a moment there, where he held her gaze. But he looked away and turned his eyes to the sky as he spoke.

“There’s only one problem. How am I supposed to buy you that drink now?” He’d made his tone light as meringue, but there was a tiny crease between his brows.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll just keep owing me.”

“Seems fair enough to me.” They stood together for a second, until Drake called out.

“Guys! The fire’s ready!”

He beamed as he motioned for them to sit. His proud beam suddenly reminded Paige of a particularly peppy golden retriever. She stifled a giggle as she tucked her feet under her.

“Hey, can I ask you guys something?” She had grabbed one of the  beers Drake had insisted they get from a convenience store on the way. She sipped from the bottle, trying to appear casual. Maxwell looked up from one of the pop-tarts he had picked up. “What’s up?”

“Well, what’s up with you guys? What’s your deal?”

As soon as she asked the question, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. The air grew thick with tension. The boys traded nervous glances, each one visibly uncomfortable. Finally, Liam spoke.

“Guys, it’s fine. She deserves to know.”

“Are you sure?” Drake’s puppy-like grin had vanished, replaced with a look of guarded skepticism.

“Positive.” Liam nodded, and they all turned to her.

“Okay. Paige, there’s something you should know about us.”

“Alright…” It suddenly occurred to her that she was on a remote island with four strange men who were now all staring at her, and why did she think this was a good idea? She tried to tamp down her growing panic.

“As you know, we’re not from here. But where we are from, specifically, is... Cordonia.”

“Okay. And this is a secret why, exactly?”

Liam shifted again. Clearly, there was more.

“Well, we’re not just tourists. I mean, we’re not really, ah, average citizens.”

Hm. Well, that wasn’t too surprising. Liam’s controlled manner, the way Maxwell kept looking over his shoulder, Tariq’s pocket square. But what, exactly, did this all mean? They were either spies, mega rich, or criminals. She waited for them to go on.

“What I mean by that is… well, we may have left some things out in our introduction. Drake really is Drake Walker, but the rest of us are different.”

Maxwell piped up. “I’m Sir Maxwell Percival Beaumont. Of Ramsford.”

“I am Lord Tariq Nadar, of Larada.” He bowed and leered at Paige in a way that caused her stomach to lurch suddenly.

“And I am Prince Liam Cicero Constantine Rhys, prince of Cordonia.”

Prince of Cordonia. The way he kissed her hand. The way the other men seemed so keenly aware of his every command. His cordial behavior. She had been flirting with a prince. An heir, she guessed.

But, if he was an heir, then that could mean-

Oh, God.

“Whose bachelor party is this?”

To her horror, Liam raised his hand tentatively.

“It’s mine.”

Shit! Ew, ew, ew. Her opinion of him dropped right down to the ground. Of course he was fucking engaged. He had been flirting with her, checking her out, and he was engaged! Fuck that, fuck him. She hadn’t even been that into him, so any disappointment she may have felt was swallowed by anger and disgust. She was almost ready to leave when he jumped in, probably sensing her rage.

“I’m not engaged. I mean, I will be, but I don’t actually have a fiancé yet.”

Oh. She lowered herself back onto the log, smoothing her pinched features.

“But wait. That doesn’t make any sense. Why have a bachelor party if you’re not even engaged yet?”

“That’s what you're concerned about? Not the nobility thing? I mean, I would- ow! Drake!” Drake elbowed Maxwell into silence before turning to Paige to explain.

“Liam’s at the age where it’s finally time to pick a future queen. The social season begins the day after tomorrow, and by the end of it, Liam’s gonna have a bride. They try to win the favor of the king and queen, catch Liam’s eye, demonstrate their queenly abilities through a series of competitions, blah blah blah. We’re throwing a bachelor party now because the next one’ll basically just be a press event with a bunch of nobles he barely knows.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to say. What the hell was she supposed to say? This was a huge bomb to just drop on her casually.

“I hope you don’t think we’re trying to fool you. If that is the case, it’s completely understandable-”

“I believe you.” Oddly enough, she knew they weren’t lying. Somehow, in her bones, she just knew. These were genuine nobles, ones she’d just happened to somehow convince to spend the night out together. Her, the broke, tired waitress. Intellectually, she knew this was an absolutely wild and preposterous thing she was doing, but emotionally, that just wouldn’t register. This felt right, like an evening out with three old friends and one Tariq.

But then again, this was different for them. They weren’t used to spending time with people like her. She was suddenly keenly aware of her own casual behavior, how she’d treated them like any old group of people. They weren’t. She started to gather up her things, fussing with her bag. She should leave them. Why would they want to spend time with someone like her?

“Does this mean I should have been curtseying? Bowing? Using your proper titles?”

“Well, personally, I wouldn’t have minded if you had-”

“Shut up, Tariq.” Maxwell twisted towards her. “This night has turned out to be awesome. You’ve turned out to be pretty awesome. And it doesn’t have to end! Let’s stay out! Just keep thinking of us as regular tourists. Don’t go.”

“I-” She stopped. “Okay. I’m staying.”

Her answer seemed to have surprised her as much as it did them. But she meant it, truly. She was having fun, and as weird as this night had turned out to be, she felt like she had made friends. Real friends, not work ones. This night would become a cool story she told at parties, and these people would become ones she’d wonder about and obsessively google for years to come, she was sure. So she didn’t leave. She sat with them, and it was one of the best nights she’d spent in a very long time.

* * *

“Paige! Wait up!” Paige turned to find Maxwell running after her. Her face split into a surprised grin. “Maxwell! What are you doing here?” He bounded up with a bright look about him. “I’m here for you! The plane leaves in like half an hour, and I wanted to catch you before we left.”

It was the morning after the bachelor party, and Paige was trudging to work. The sidewalk was choked with people rushing from place to place, and Maxwell was struggling to hold his ground.

“And why did you need to catch me, exactly?” Surely, from the beam on his face, he wasn’t just delivering a lost earring? Hope started to tickle at her insides, though what it was for, she had no idea.

“I wanted to make an offer. Obviously, it’s totally cool if you want to say no, and there’s no pressure or anything, but I had to ask.”

“Okay…” What was he doing?

“Come with us.” Her expression must’ve been absolutely shocked, and he hurried on upon seeing it.

“Liam looked really happy last night. Like, uncharacteristically happy and smiley. And you seem really cool, so I got to thinking. You could come with us. You’d be sponsored by House Beaumont, and you’d have a real shot at it! It wouldn’t be easy, since you’re not technically nobility, and House Beaumont is kind of-” he stopped himself. “Um, I mean, it would be hard. Is what I’m saying. But cool! Fun! Are you in?”

“Sorry, what is ‘it’, exactly?”

“Oh, yeah, shoot. Liam’s hand in marriage!”

Liam’s hand. In marriage. The sidewalk seemed to spin. She liked Liam just fine, but marriage? There was no way. She knew it, deep down in her soul. She wasn’t going to marry him, and she never would.

She glanced back over her shoulder, back at the bar. The whole place seemed grubby and hollow. Daniel was wiping away at the counter, a faraway expression on his face. He was dreaming of an out. They had dreamed of that out together, on mornings like this.

Paige pictured elegant palaces, glamorous parties, beautiful people. She imagined dancing the night away, drunk on champagne and laughter. She imagined stolen corridor kisses and secret rendezvous in lavish gardens.

She turned back to Maxwell.

“I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes. I’ve got some packing to do.”

Son that was the first chapter! It’s out a bit later than I’d like, but it’s out! Sorry again about the Olivia thing. I promise, she’ll be a key character in chapter two. 

I’m really new to publishing my stuff, so if you have any tips or suggestions, please let me know! 

[kylosupremeimagines]

The Guys and Quarantine Would Include: (Kylo, Adam, Clyde, and Charlie)

Special thanks to @cas-backwards-tie for giving me ideas for Kylo! 

Kylo:

Seeing as how it’s advised  not to go many places, if anywhere at all, he’d take the opportunity to learn some new recipes to cook. He already does it every day but there are plenty of things that he’s never tried. Maybe he could order a new kitchen gadget or two to broaden what he can cook. For example, if you eat meat, he would want to grind his own meat and test out various combinations to make the perfect burger. Plus, he would take a chance at 

He has an old Calligraphy set that he hasn’t touched in a while, so upon being stuck in the house bored, he would pull it out and try to get back into it. He was rather surprised that he was just as good as when he did it before. Kylo even found some of the old pieces that he did. If you found any that you fell in love with, he’d be willing to hang it up somewhere around your home. He may get a bit self conscious about some of them but he feels better when you assure him that you love all of the work that he’s done. 

As his secret guilty pleasure is all things soft, he got some new pillows and blankets to put in the bed. He may come off as a tough guy to most, but he can never get enough of being able to hold you close to cuddle. He loves being in a bed with a mountain of pillows, relaxed enough to get lost in them for days. He doesn’t have the easiest time getting to sleep so having such a thing would certainly help to get him to sleep more during the quarantine. Even when it’s over, he wouldn’t want to change a thing about the new arrangement. 

Although he was used to working out before the quarantine started, he would try his best to keep up with it all throughout as well. It’s not that he cares too much about the way that he looks but he’d certainly want to keep in shame regardless. He would find at home workouts to do, though he would have a few things at home anyways that he could use while working out. He may try to convince you to join in on a few to see if you would want to continue later in the future. Kylo could never turn down a workout partner!

While he’s working at home, he will have a lot more free time to do as he pleases. It’s honestly odd to him to have so much of it. Kylo would end up exploring some new hobbies, whether he discovered them through suggestions from you or by searching online. One of his favorites had to be when he found an easy instrument to play. He ordered it online and had it shipped to your place, and surprisingly he got the hang of it rather quickly. (I can’t think of any specific instruments to choose for him, so that’s up to you!)

Adam:

Adam wouldn’t be the most patient being cooped up in the apartment. Of course, he realizes the importance of staying safe so he’d try to not make it seem like it’s a big deal to him. He’ll never do anything to increase the risk for either of you but he will try to get out when he can. He won’t try to get out too much, but at least going on a run or a simple walk through the park.

While you’re stuck at home for the quarantine, don’t worry about not getting sex because there’s going to be plenty of that so long as you want that much intimacy. Since you’re with him for a while, you shouldn’t be too surprised that his sex drive would be more than usual since you’re sort of Forced to be around one another more option while not at work. It’s not like he’s going to force you to do anything or push past your limit, but his desire to get intimate would surprisingly increase doing the quarantine. So just be prepared for that! 

He might take all the extra free time to make some improvements around the house or apartment. Who  knows, maybe there’s something that needs a little fixing or a place where he could put something new into. Really, he’d just want to find an excuse to get to building or repairing something to pass the time. Maybe he would try to get some paint and mix up the colors on the wall a bit. Want your living room to be painted another color? Or maybe your bed frame? Adam is your man to get the job done! 

He’d want to make it a thing where you order from one of your favorite restaurants once a week for delivery. Since you’re pretty much doing the same things being stuck at home for so long, you two would dedicate at least one night in a week to doing nothing but enjoying food from your favorite place with some movies to watch.

Since he’d have a lot of more time on his hands than usual, he would take some time to work on his acting. It’s not that he’s doubtful of his abilities as an actor, but why not take the chance to work on things that he wasn’t used to? He would practice with variants of roles that he didn’t normally try. If you’d be willing, he’d love to get a two part script to practice with you. It would mostly be for fun but he’d also love to have the extra help and someone to work beside; he could never turn down an acting partner. 

Clyde:

He may not go crazy with preparing for the quarantine, but he’s going to do what he can to ensure that you’re safe all throughout the quarantine. He won’t want to go out unless completely necessary or if it’s to go hiking in the woods. Plus, without being on your ass about it all the time, he would make sure that you’re staying clean and safe the best that he could. If there’s anything at all that you’d need, Clyde will be there to ensure that you have it.

Considering that the bar would be closed for quite some time with the quarantine, he would try to find a short term job to get some more money in the house since there’s no telling how long it will last. He might even do a few small jobs that aren’t anything too serious. All he worries about is getting money so that you don’t have to worry about getting any of the essentials. Even if he needs to work longer hours than he would at the bar, he’s willing to put in the extra time to make the extra money. 

Maybe this time would be the best opportunity to get an animal with him! He would much rather get a dog above anything else, no matter the breed, since he grew up a dog person. There wouldn’t really be any harm in going out to a local shelter to adopt a dog who was in need of a home. It would be a great addition to the family and you would be able to give a dog a much needed home to be loved. He would even let you pick them out yourself.

Being away from the bar, you could expect him to make a drink quite often. Whether it be for himself or you, he’s going to be making them quite a bit. He was so used to bartending that it almost became a habit of his to make them. Since Duck Tape would be closed for a while, he was able to take some stuff home so he had the ingredients to make some delicious things. If there were any type of alcohol you favored, he would try his best to bring some of that home with him. It isn’t as if anyone would stop him, and since the ingredients for more specific drinks could go bad, there was no reason he couldn’t keep some of it.

This would be the golden opportunity to get Clyde into watching certain movies that you love which he doesn’t usually watch himself. He’s open to doing whatever you want since there’d be a lot of free time to laze about at home with not being able to go out and all. In turn, he would hope that you’d want to go out into the woods with him to hike. He doesn’t do it on the daily but thinks it’s a great opportunity to get out with you during the quarantine. 

Charlie:

You can (hopefully) look forward to more family nights with him and Henry, when the boy is not with his mother. With how bored Henry gets, Charlie would want to do what he could to make things more exciting for him.It would include movie nights, trying out new foods, family board games, and so much more. He hopes that you don’t mind doing it when Henry is around, especially with how much he seems to enjoy having you both there to have fun with. 

As a way to pass his time, he would work on anything that has to do with his plays. He’ll be on the phone a lot with those he’s working with, writing down any inspiration as it hits him, and maybe even will simply sit and think about ideas. It’ll be a bit hard to get things running again as soon as the quarantine dies down, but he’s certain if he focuses enough, he’ll have plenty of material to work with as soon as he can get back to working as he did before the virus hit so hard. 

Still on the topic of music, it isn’t until you’re stuck at your shared place during quarantine that you would hear him singing for the first time. One day, he was singing without realizing that you would hear him while he was cleaning. It wasn’t any song in particular, maybe a random one that he’s hearts around or a tune that he’s just come up with to hum. Regardless, he is a rather decent singer and quite soothing to listen to. 

As a new hobby, he got some painting supplies and took up painting with a canvas and paints - most likely he would start out with acrylics since they’re far easier to get the hang of. He isn’t the best at it, but he’d be interested in abstract most of all because it’s the hardest to mess up. Obviously abstract paintings aren’t always supposed to make sense so he could go all out and work on it until he just felt as if it was done. 

He never considered taking a bath before, partially because he never took the time to just relax in such a manner. Now, he would hope that you’d want to have a relaxing night when it was just the two of you at the apartment and enjoy a nice, warm bath together. He won’t be too cheesy, so no candles or anything of the sort. But perhaps he would get special soap - maybe a bath bomb - to use and have some of the best wine that he knows readily available to drink down while you soak together.

[lizacstuff]

I don't understand when Liz says, "I just needed a moment"? Is she saying she wanted to escape doing science so she can be alone instead of spending time with the person she tried to hard to bring back because she was so heartbroken? Wouldn't you want to spend more time with the person you thought you lost? Most people say they wish they had more time with the people they loved. I get she doesn't need to be around him 24/7 but does she mean she was too obsessed?

I think Liz explains it pretty well and I don’t think it had anything to do with not wanting to spend time with Max. “I needed to take just one moment to remember where I end and where you begin.” Liz had spent every waking minute trying to find a way to save Max, she was relentless, single-minded, undeterable. And she did it. She did the impossible, but in the process everything about her life became about Max, her entire existence became defined by her love for him. 

Which is kind of awesome thing for us shippers, because you know ultimate, epic, giant love, but it’s also not sustainable for an actual woman so in this case the writers decided to mine it for Liz’s character arc.  

Who is she outside of this relationship? That is a valid question for her to ask, and it doesn’t affect or negate any of her love for Max.  She gets to be a person too, and have her own goals and aspirations. Her needing/wanting to do that wasn’t the problem. 

We see that she is being judged by people throughout the season for her life choices. Her mother, Charlie, ICE agent, Diego, but mostly she judges herself. She’s embarrassed that instead of being a great scientist, she’s slinging burgers.  

Liz was a completely independent woman before she found Max again. She was constantly moving, never felt connected to anyone including her fiance (I just couldn’t connect) where her work was the only thing that mattered. She ran like hell from people, places, even jobs, anything that might have served as any sort of anchor. Think about it... what kind of person just ghosts their fiance? Disappears without a word? That is just not done. Clearly she wasn’t in love with Diego, but didn’t she like him enough to at least give him the courtesy of a conversation? That is unimaginably selfish. The person that would take that extreme of an action, is not someone who is going to faultlessly slip into a committed relationship. Yes, Max is different, Max is her destiny, she is in love with Max, but that swing from unable to commit to anything to completely committed was B.I.G.

To be clear, I’m not really defending the writing here, because I think a lot of it is manufactured and it happened way too fast.  Given 22 episodes the transition from “yippee Max is alive” to needing to find herself would have probably felt a lot more organic.  As it stood it felt like she enjoyed one night with him and then threw herself into unethical science, neglecting time with him in the process. As an audience we needed more time of Liz just happy to have Max back and basking it, before she’s got restless and reckless.  

At the end of the day, I think we can make sense of Liz’s actions in light of what she went through. Liz got put through the emotional RINGER this season.  In how many scenes was Liz crying? Good grief, the poor thing. First it’s the grief over Max, then it’s an herculean effort to bring him back, the stress and strain of failure, the knowledge that Max was trying to pull the plug, then when he’s back he doesn’t remember her? Why only her? That must have hurt something fierce. Even after the epic, “I’m not better off without you, I’m not whole without you” speech, that had to be devastating. Especially once the euphoria of being reunited wore off. But once Max was back they never took a second to examine how it might affect her. Then she dealt with her worries over his health, all while he wouldn’t heed her warnings. None of that trauma was dealt with. Also Liz was clearly still upset about Max making the decision in the first place to bring Rosa back.   

Then onto all of that, add Rosa being back from the dead, and Liz watching her struggle to the point of overdose. Then her manipulative, absentee mother hits town in order to fuck with her mind some more, she deals with Arturo almost being deported, and then her ex-fiance is back. 

All the while Liz was relegated to being a small town girl working as a server in the family restaurant, and having that thrown in her face, when she clearly is a genius with infinite potential. 

Going Mad!Scientist in a bid to feel like she has some control over all of these things that have happened to her, in a response to all this unimaginable trauma, in a bid to reclaim an identity outside of the-girl who-loved-Max-Evans-so-much-she-brought-him-back-from-the-dead... actually makes sense.  Unfortunately instead of having the narrative recognize these things, instead of making it about her losing the thread in an attempt to take control of her life, they instead choose to frame all her actions simply as her ambition to make a better name for immigrants. 

Which was IMO a clumsy attempt at scoring some social justice points. I get the themes about immigration and it was a way to illustrate Max’s white privilege, and the extra obstacle’s Liz has faced, but that could have been done without using it to justify Liz’s unethical behavior and actions.  I know the show patted themselves on that back so hard for that, but it was a disservice to the character. Anyone of Liz’s intellect would have known that she could never share what she was doing in any way that would allow her to claim that glory for Latina scientists. So it came off as clumsy instead of nuanced, and we got this hand wave of an explanation instead of an in-depth study of a character who went a bit off the rails. 

At the end of the day, though, Liz loves Max. Liz will always love Max. And Max loves Liz. Max will always love Liz. So hopefully her time away, and their time apart, will give each of them the necessary perspective so that when they reunite, they’ll work much better as a unit. 

[daybreak-delusion]

Chapter 7

Introduction: Whitney Goodwinson was planning on inheriting one of her deceased grandmother's properties, but not a little house off the coast of North Carolina.  As she struggles to meet new people, fix up her new property, deal with troublemaker JJ Maybank, and perfect her grandmother's infamous lemonade, she might just find that the Outer Banks has more to offer than it seems. 

Series Masterlist 

Previous Chapter

After the long walk home I took a shower, finally, and went straight to bed. It had been an excruciatingly long day and I was ready for some sleep. Thankfully the next morning I wasn’t awakened by the annoying sound of a lawnmower. I took a shower to clean off my sleep and changed into some shorts and a simple blouse. The one good thing about the humidity is that it was making my normally frizzy curly hair look normal. Back in my room after looking around at my mess, I decided that would be a cleaning day. I put on my headphones and shuffled my cleaning playlist and got to work. I started with my room, unpacking my bags, finally, and organizing my clothes in the closet. Then I moved to the bathroom, cleaning the mirrors, countertops, and disinfecting the shower and toilet with some cleaner I found in the kitchen. I spent three seconds debating whether or not to go into Grandmother’s room and then turned into the living room. I vacuumed, dusted, and disinfected some more. The kitchen was the worst, I kept sneezing from all of the dust when Fernando by ABBA came on. Oh my god, this was my song. I picked up a spoon and pretended to sing to my adoring fans. 

“There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando!” I was practically screaming by the time the chorus came on, dancing to the beat like a maniac. 

“They were shining there for you and me for liberty-” 

“Hey, sunshine!” yelled a voice from behind me. Screaming I turned around and saw JJ leaning against the back door frame. He was wearing the same tacky shorts as yesterday and a white t-shirt with some fishing company logo on it. 

“How long have you been standing there?” I said, taking off my headphones blush creeping on to my face. 

“Not long, I’m here to pick the lemons and just need to get a bag,” explained JJ walking towards the pantry getting a reusable bag out. 

“Oh right do you need any help?” 

“Oh no I’m good, wouldn't want to cut your little concert short.” 

“Ha, ha,” I laughed sarcastically, “be sure to bring them back, I’m thinking of trying Grandmother's lemonade recipe.” 

“Really?” he stopped before heading out the door giving me a quizzical look. 

“Yeah, I was thinking about making a batch for good measure.” 

“Well good luck with that, Vicky was really particular about the way she made her lemonade.” 

“Oh, I think I can handle a little lemonade.”

“If you say so, I’ll be in the greenhouse,” he said humming the chorus of Fernando on his way out the door.  When he left I shook off my embarrassment and I turned back to dusting the shelves. After a while, I realized how hungry I was. The only food that I’ve had was dinner last night with the Camerons and the only food in the house was some stale saltine crackers and beer, which was kinda concerning but I tried not to look too into it. One thing was for sure, I needed food. Like now. Thankfully just as I was about to try my luck with the saltines, JJ walked back in with a bag full of lemons. 

“I only got about 10 this batch but next week we should get about triple,” said JJ walking in through the back door. He placed the bag on the counter and reached into the fridge to grab a beer. 

“Thank you, also do you by any chance know of anywhere to eat?” 

“Um yeah my friend’s family owns a restaurant, it’s called The Wreck, they got great sandwiches. It’s about two miles into town.” 

“Sounds perfect, you want anything?” 

“Uh no, no I’m good just tell Kie I said hi,” he said taking a swing of his beer as he walked towards the back door. 

“Do you ever drink water?” I asked. 

“Not if I can help it sunshine,” he replied with a wink walking out the door. 

That boy was going to die of liver failure if he kept his drinking habits up. A problem he’d have to deal with. In the meantime I needed food. That’s how my search for transportation started. No way was I gonna ask for a ride from Rafe and I’m pretty sure JJ just materializes everywhere, so I had to either walk or find another way. 

Another thing I was oblivious too when I first arrived was the garage to the left of the house. Hopefully, Grandmother left a bike or even a skateboard for me. I walked the dirt path to the old little garage. It’s kinda how I imagined what the house would have looked like if I’m being honest. It was even more faded yellow then the house with a rusty white painted garage door. Cobwebs were everywhere. I was terrified that I would have to encounter the creatures that made them. I was half expecting the handle to fall off when I pulled the door up. It opened with an ear-piercing screech and a cloud of dust. When I stopped coughing my lungs out I saw it. A vintage yellow Volkswagen beetle with a rack on top for surfboards surrounded by at least 50 cardboard boxes. I just stared at it for a few seconds admiring the car. I’m not exactly an expert on automobiles or whatever, but something about vintage cars really got me going. On the left of the garage was a bulletin board with a couple of keys tacked to it labeled with different things. I found the one that said car and prayed that the thing would start. The outside of the car was covered in dust, but thankfully the inside was a little cleaner. The only problem was that the car was a stick. Now I haven't driven stick in two years. Grandmother always said any person with a brain could drive automatic, but it took a real driver to learn stick. It was a miracle the car started in the first place and all I had to do was pray I remembered how to drive it. 

I only stalled a couple of times in the beginning, but eventually got in the grove of changing the gears. As I drove I was hoping I was imagining it but people seemed to be looking at my car as if it were on fire. I’m pretty sure I would know if my car was on fire or not so I kept going. Eventually, I found the little restaurant and pulled into a parking spot. The Wreck was just preparing for rush hour when I walked in. The floor was worn by the many footsteps that had walked into this establishment. The walls were decorated with pictures that looked as old as the restaurant and stickers from different surf shops and fishing companies. What I noticed most of all was the salty and intoxicating smell of freshly made french fries. I was practically salivating when a girl about my age approached me. 

“Welcome to The Wreck, what can I get for you,” she said with a tired, but genuine smile. She had her dark curly hair tied up in a messy bun with an old gray headband keeping her flyaways out of her face and was wearing a dark green bikini top under her tank top with the logo of the restaurant on it. 

“Hi, I hear you guys got great sandwiches,” I replied. If my instincts were correct this girl was Kie, JJ’s friend. 

“Yeah, we got tuna, turkey, roast beef, and our specialty lobster.” 

“Do you actually have any vegetarian options?” 

“Oh, you’re a vegetarian? So am I!” she said with a little more energy in her voice. 

“Yeah have been for the past two years.” 

“Wow I started about three years ago and am trying to make the switch to veganism.” 

“Good for you!” 

“Thank you! Most of my friends make fun of me for it, but I just can't stand the thought of eating a living creature. Anyways just one vegetarian sandwich?” 

“Yes please and some fries as well, also I’m sorry if this is too weird to ask , but are you Kie by any chance?” 

“Uhh yeah how did you know that?” she replied giving me a look that said, “who is this weirdo and how does she know my name?” 

“Okay cool, I’m Whitney and your friend JJ works… I mean worked for my grandmother.” 

“Oh my god, no way your Vicky’s granddaughter of course!” she said the look she was giving me melting into a smile,” I knew I recognized your car from somewhere, your grandma would come in here every Sunday for brunch, there gotta be a picture of her on the wall if you wanna look. She was such a sweet lady. JJ mentioned that you were in town I don’t know why I didn’t put that together and you had dinner with Sarah’s family yesterday right?”  

“Yeah I did, she has an interesting family.”

“God tell me about it, her brother is a piece of work.” 

It seemed like everyone had some kind of beef with Rafe.

“I had to spend the afternoon with him yesterday and it was excruciating. Thankfully JJ saved me.” 

“He saved you? Usually he’s the one to get people in trouble.” 

“Yeah I heard something like that, but so far he’s proven his usefulness.”

“Well I’m glad he hasn't screwed you over yet,” she said noticing the lunch rush was about to start, “So just the sandwich and fries?” 

“Yeah and just whatever JJ usually gets, he’s over working right now and I figure I’d get him something to consume that wasn't a cheap beer and make it to go please.” 

“Alrighty then a vegetarian sandwich with a side of fries and a The Barrel Roll Burger coming right up. That’ll be $15.25.” 

I pulled out a twenty and put the change into the jar when she was looking the other way. While a man, who I assumed was Kie’s father, was making my order I looked at all of the old photographs and stickers on the wall. I failed to find any of Grandmother but a newer looking polaroid stood out to me. It was of a group of teenagers sitting around a table in the restaurant. I recognized Kie, Sarah, and JJ with two other handsome looking boys. Geez what was in the water on this island, everyone seemed to be incredibly attractive. JJ was shoving some sort of food in Kie’s face while Sarah and one of the boys were pretending to make out, I assumed it was her boyfriend John B, while the other boy just looked straight into the camera like he was on The Office or something. They all looked happy and seemed to be enjoying their afternoon. I couldn't help but notice how close Kie and JJ were and a twinge of jealousy sparked in my stomach. 

“Order up Whitney!” called Kie with a brown bag in her hand. 

“Thank you!” I replied, “You have no idea how hungry I am.” 

“Well come by anytime, we got the best food on the island,” she said with a smile. 

“I sure will, thanks again!” I said walking out the door and towards my car.

a/n: So yeah apparently Whitney gets turned on by cars. Anyways thank you so much for reading! I absolutely LOVE writing and although sometimes it gets frustrating or I start to doubt wether I should continue or not I just keep going because I love it. Next chapter will be up Wednesday so stay tuned! Thanks again! 

[dontshootmespence]

Something Else Here

Summary: When a former classmate that won’t take the hint comes back to town, you beg your best friend Castiel to fake a marriage so that they’ll leave you alone.

Pairing: Human!Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1,791

Warnings: A dude that won’t take no for an answer. Otherwise pretty fluffy.

A/N: This fulfills my fake marriage square for @castielspnbingo! 

Raucous knocking downstairs made him pop out of bed, hair spiked up in the back and a tiny bit of drool dribbling down the corner of his mouth. “What the hell?” He mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Cas! Cas! Open up! Emergency!”

He sped downstairs and opened the door to see Y/N in perfect health, no cuts of bruises, even a smile on her face. “What’s the emergency? Why did you wake me up at 7-fucking-30 on my day off when you’re not bleeding or on fire?”

Laughing, Y/N walked into the house and into the streaming sunlight that Cas was shielding his eyes from. Like a vampire, it was just too early for this shit. “Glad to know that bleeding and on fire are the only things that constitute an emergency in your book,” she said with a snort. “It’s not a physical emergency. But it’s a friend emergency and I need your help.”

Cas ambled into the kitchen and began brewing some coffee, taking two cups out of the cabinet without even asking whether she wanted some. She always wanted some. It was rumored that it was caffeine and not blood that ran through her veins. “What do you need help with? It’s a good thing I love you, you know that?”

She sat down at the table and gave him the cheesiest smile imaginable. If they hadn’t grown up together, he’d have killed her by now. “I do,” she laughed. “Remember that guy in college that couldn’t take the hint?”

“Bradley Something?”

“Yes, Bradley Something.”

“What about him?”

Taking the cup of coffee from Cas, she leaned back in her chair, stretching her back muscles against the strong wood and explained that she heard through the grapevine he was going to be back in town for a short time. 

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose willing the burgeoning headache to fuck off. “Okay and what does this mean in terms of emergency?”

“You remember him right?” Y/N exclaimed, sending a jolt of pain through her friend’s head. “He was uncomfortably close and could never take a hint, but he always seemed to leave the married women alone. It’s like that was his line in the sand.”

“So you want me to marry you?” He laughed.

“Well, no, not really, but could we fake it while he’s in town?”

Downing the rest of his coffee, he turned to pour another mug. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He thought, it could be worse. She was his best friend and drop dead gorgeous, but the idea was so ridiculous he couldn’t believe she was entertaining it. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We’ll go out a couple times. I have a ring I can wear and we’ll get all lovey-dovey. You’re gonna have to kiss me though.” 

“Have you seen your lips, Cas? Not a problem for me.” She popped up from the chair and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much. I know this is ridiculous but he won’t leave me alone and if marriage is his line in the sand then this might get him off my back.”

“I hope it does,” he laughed. “If it doesn’t we’ll just have to make out in front of him. Like, sloppy gross, public display of affection make out.”

Snickering, Y/N spoke, “You’d just hate that, wouldn’t you?”

                                                           -------

A week later, when the fucker that wouldn’t take a hint came back to town, Cas invited Y/N over so they could formulate a plan. Cas pulled out a fairly plain silver band that he’d inherited from his father to pass as a wedding ring and Y/N had something similar, an old family heirloom, to pose as her own. “Okay, so how are we going about this? Do we have any special plans? Mission Impossible-style?” Cas asked, raising his hands like finger guns.

“No, you dork, we can just do whatever we normally do. Go run errands, go out to eat, whatever. If we see him, which I’m sure we will because it’s like he seeks me out every time he’s in town, we have to act like newlyweds so he’ll know to back off.”

Cas smirked. “So that means I have to kiss you?”

“Yup.”

He closed the space between them and grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, pressing the softest of kisses on her lips. He’d never kissed her before. Though they’d both thought about it one time or another. His lips were soft and inviting, comforting, familiar, and she nearly forgot that this was all a ploy.

                                                          -------

Both of them needed groceries, but for the week Y/N was planning to stay with Cas so they put together a joint list and headed out. She could still feel where his lips had touched hers and she wasn’t altogether unhappy about that. As a matter of fact, the image made her smile.  

They’d never been on a date before and both found themselves questioning why. Anyone walking through the grocery store that didn’t know them already would think they were together, the easy-going smiles and comfortable embraces a dead giveaway that there was some kind of a connection there. Add to that the way they playfully teased each other at every turn and it was the  perfect combination for a beautiful and healthy relationship. 

After going back to his place to put away the groceries they’d bought for the week, they went mini-golfing. A new place had just opened up and Cas was a giant child so he practically threw a temper tantrum until Y/N had agreed to go. In all honesty, it didn’t take much convincing. They had nothing better to do and she hadn’t been in ages. It looked like fun.

And it was. A few people they knew happened to see them and asked about the rings. One in particular was Y/N’s old roommate from college. “We’re just pretending,” she whispered to her friend. “You remember how Brad would ask me out at least twice a week? Well, I begged Cas to fake a marriage so if we run into him he’ll back off.”

“Oh yea,” she laughed. “Married women always seemed to be the turn off for him.”

Of course the entire time they were on the golf course, Cas kept score and he beat Y/N by one point, so he was insufferable on the way to dinner. If she could materialize a pie from nowhere that would be wonderful because she wanted to shove it in his face. “Where should we go to dinner?”

“Diner down the block?” Cas asked. “I know it’s normally insane on the weekends, but I could go for a burger.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Inside the restaurant, Cas craned his head to the corner of the restaurant where Brad was sitting with what was probably some childhood friends. “Here’s our moment,” he laughed softly.

The way Brad’s eyes honed in on her made her skin crawl, but she grasped Cas’s hand and sat down across from him. “I mean, I know I’m your fake husband but I could go kick his ass if you he’s making you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s okay.” She felt icy cold when he looked at her, but hopefully he’d see their rings soon and back off. “Let’s just eat.”

Both of them got big greasy bacon cheeseburgers and a couple of root beers, barely saying a word to one another except to comment on the bacon. “Oh fuck, he’s coming over,” she whispered, wiping her mouth to give him a perfect fake smile. “Hi, Brad. What brings you back to town?”

As the restaurant became more and more crowded, Brad regaled them both the the boring tales of a work project that brought him back to town and on more than one occasion he tried to bring up their college days, his eyes always darting to her ring. Every time he brought it up, Cas reached over and squeezed her hand, an inward show of friendship and solidarity and an outward show of belonging. “So when did you two get married?” Brad asked with obvious disdain dripping in Cas’s direction, though he was looking at Y/N.

Cas answered quickly. “Just a few months ago. Eloped, just the two of us. Decided we couldn’t wait.” 

He answered so quickly and with such sincerity that Y/N had to wonder if there was more than just the surface answer. “It was the perfect day,” Y/N replied.

“I’d always been hoping to scoop you up for myself,” Bradley added as the two faux lovebirds gazed at each other. “Figuring one day you might come around.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” she responded. She was not sorry in the slightest. Not even a little bit. “Cas and I have been friends forever. It’s always been him.” That also came out with a little too much sincerity. 

“Well, I hope you two are happy,” he said. “I should get back to my friends. Nice seeing you, Y/N.”

Without a word, she waved him off and glanced at Cas. What they’d said to Bradley seemed more than just a cover up and both knew it, but Cas laughed it off. “He doesn’t like me.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s staring you down.” 

Bradley’s eyes pierced her, an icy blue settling into her spine. “If you weren’t here, I’d honestly be afraid.”

“Well, I’m here.”

As if he could see the chills crawl up her spine, Cas signaled for the check and paid quickly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they walked through the door and back out to the car. Unfortunately, Bradley and his crew were just a few steps behind them.”Hey Y/N,” he said, injecting some levity into his voice even though she could tell he was deadly serious, “if you guys don’t work out, give me a call.”

Shrugging it off, she mumbled ‘as if’ under her breath and slipped into the passenger’s seat. “Oh my god, I feel like I need a shower.”

“Seriously, he’s gross,” Cas said. “Take the hint, dude.”

“I think he did. He just wasn’t happy about it and he couldn’t hide his feelings.”

“Well, too bad for him. Ready to go home?”

Home. “Yea.”

“I know we saw him and he saw the rings, but I figured you’d probably stay with me until he left town, right?” 

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t feel safe going back to my place.”

“Then with me it is,” he said, smiling. 

On the drive back to Cas’s house, they stole glances, words hanging heavy but hopeful in the air. Maybe there was something else there. Something that neither had ever noticed or addressed, but something that could change them for the better nonetheless.

[hope-for-olicity]

Revelations

Upon reading of Felicity with another man, Oliver has a revelation that he may have waited too long to make his intentions clear.

So this is my first submission for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-Thon 2018 organized by @thebookjumper - the prompt was Revelation. Also available on AO3.

This story is set early in Season 6 with a few changes from canon. Curtis dies, on the island, Thea is fine and Felicity has her own business.

Oliver sat down at his desk in the Mayor’s office. He rubbed his hands over his face, let out a sigh. He did it. William was at school, he was at work, everything was under control.

He couldn’t lie, being a single father to a boy who just lost his mother, while being the Mayor and the Green Arrow was taking a toll on him. He felt like he was treading water. He worried if he stopped for just a moment, he would drown.

Enough self-pity. He turned to look at the mail his assistant left of on his desk. He began picking up the envelopes when a familiar face caught his eye. There was Felicity Smoak in all her glory on the front of Starling City Business magazine. She got the cover. It made him so proud.

He quickly flipped open the magazine to read the profile on the love of his life. She looked beautiful in a fuchsia dress with bright pink lipstick. God, he missed her. Yes, he’d seen her last night in the bunker but he felt like that was only in passing. He was burning the candle at both ends, that left no time to spend on his personal life. Felicity said she understood that he had to focus on William but how long would a woman as wonderful as she is willing to wait.

He glanced back down at the article. Felicity talked about the tragic loss of her partner in her first business, Curtis. He knew Curtis’ death was not something she nor the rest of them were anywhere near over. It hurt him to think of her grieving alone. Thea had checked in on her, a girl’s night, she said Felicity was withdrawn and wasn’t open to talking about it even with her constant pestering.

The rest of the article talked about Felicity’s newly launched Smoak Technologies and the spinal chip which she now had the legal right to mass produce after taking her other company Palmer Technologies to court for the patent. The headlines were amusing when she won, Smoak Sues Herself and Wins. Another moment, where Oliver was very proud but watching from a distance instead of by her side.

He knew Felicity had thrown herself into her work to help deal with the loss of Curtis. He was glad she was making such strides but he could see the sadness in her eyes. He looked down at the end of the interview where the reporter began inquiring about her personal life, her love life to be precise. The reporter asked if there was any truth to rumours that she was dating actor Chris Pine. Felicity said you know I don’t comment on my personal life but suffice it to say I’m happy.

I’m happy?! Oliver sat up straighter in his chair. Was she really dating Chris Pine?? He knew she had a long-standing crush on the actor but he wasn’t aware that they’d actually met. Had she moved on? It suddenly dawned him there was no reason for her not to move on. It’s not as though he’d given her any hints that a future with him was possible.

Upon their return from the island, they agreed that Oliver would focus on William. But since then, he quickly looked at his calendar, six months passed. If he knew Felicity, which he did, he knew she would never push him. She would put William’s well being above all else. She was emphatic about William needing his father so he knew he was making the right decision. But now….

William was doing so much better, he was still going to therapy but he was in school and making friends. He talked more, even joked with Raisa. Getting Raisa to come help out was one of the best decisions he’d made. Oliver remembered growing up how Raisa just got him and now she got William too. Things with William and him were improving but still on shaky ground.

It suddenly dawned on him that William would probably really like Felicity, well everyone liked Felicity but William liked Felicity things - comic books, computers, video games and he was really smart. Maybe it was time for them to meet again.

Oliver’s phone rang. He saw his receptionists number. “Yes, Mary.”

“Mayor Queen, your 10 o’clock meeting is in five minutes in the boardroom, Mr. Lance is in there now greeting the board members as they arrive.”

“Thanks, Mary, I’ll head in now.”

*****

Felicity was currently running her business out of her loft. She met with clients in restaurants so she decided to save on overhead until she actually had more than one employee. Currently, it was just Alena and her, she was hoping to add Thea Queen very soon.

In fact, Thea was due to arrive with lunch any minute. She wanted to lure Thea away from the Mayor’s office, she wasn’t sure how that would go over with Oliver. So, she decided to take the bull by the horns and ask Thea if she would even be interested in such a position.

Thea had such potential, she whipped the Mayor’s office into shape when she was Chief of Staff, the girl had people skills and manners ingrained in her by Moira Queen, she would be an asset wherever she worked. Felicity wanted that to be Smoak Technologies.

Felicity just finished tidying up her workplace when she heard the knock on the door. She opened the door to see Thea holding a tray of Big Belly Burger drinks in one hand and food in the other.

“Oh, let me take that from you!” Felicity quickly grabbed the drinks from Thea, she put them on the table.

Thea closed the door, followed behind Felicity. “Thanks!” Once she put the food down she quickly pulled Felicity in for a hug.

Thea released her. “So, sister-in-law what can I do for you?”

“Haha, very funny, Thea. Let’s eat the food while it’s hot. I’ll tell you my proposition.” Felicity took a seat, began taking the food out of the bag Thea brought.

“Oooh, consider me intrigued.” Thea dipped a french fry in ketchup. “I’m all ears.”

“Well, first I’d like to say if you are not interested, just say so. No hard feelings. All cool.” Felicity was starting to feel nervous.

Thea reached across the table to touch Felicity’s hand. “Hey, it’s okay. Just ask me. You are starting to worry me.”

“I was just going to say I’ve always admired you, Thea. You as a woman and as a professional. What you did with Verdant all those years ago and all the work you have done at City Hall. You impress the hell out of me.” Felicity smiled at Thea, she could see Thea was surprised by her words.

“Wow, Felicity, thanks. I mean thank you. I had no idea you saw me that way. It means a lot as I really respect you as a professional and you are the smartest person I know. That you would think so highly of me…” Thea smiled.

“Now, for my pitch. I’d like you to come work for Smoak Technologies. I believe you have a lot to offer. I really need the best when setting up my business. You know my core product is the chip stimulant that Curtis created. It costs a lot to re-create per each patient’s specifications and most people with spinal cord injuries don’t have that kind of money. So I need someone to help with fundraising. Both holding events and finding private donors to help aid in this process. Once we have established ourselves with the chip, I will begin introducing other products which will hopefully help improve the lives of others. You know, I want to work on that shiny beacon of hope we talked about before. So, what do you think?” Felicity began to fidget, she really wanted Thea to say yes.

“I think hell yes! Where do I sign? Seriously though, Felicity, you are giving me the opportunity of a lifetime. To use my skills to help you, help people. This would be a dream come true.” Thea jumped up, then stopped. “Can I hug you? Would that be unprofessional?”

“Not unprofessional at all. Come here!” Felicity held Thea tight they weren’t sisters-in-law yet but she would always consider Thea a part of her family. “I’m so so glad you are interested. Now, we can talk about the issue at hand. Do you think Oliver will be okay with me stealing you away from the Mayor’s office?”

“Are you kidding? Ollie will love it! He loves you! He’s so incredibly proud of what you are doing. I think he’d be thrilled for me to come work for you. Quentin is doing a great job as Chief of Staff, they no longer need me over there as a consultant. The only question is when can I tell him?” Thea laughed.

******

Oliver heard the knock on his office door. He finished signing his last document for the day as he looked up. “You’re not Mary.” He smiled.

“Nope,” Thea smiled back. “Mary stepped away, just wondering if you have a moment for your sister.”

“Always.” Oliver got up, greeted his sister with a hug. “What brings you by?”

“I have news!” Thea smiled brightly.

“Good news from the look on your face. So sit,” Oliver gestured toward the couch, he followed. “Tell me your news.”

“Felicity has asked me to come work for her at Smoak Technologies! She has big plans and she explained how my skills would help make that happen. She thinks I’m great!” Thea was practically bouncing in her chair.

“That’s fantastic, Thea! I agree with Felicity you would be an asset to Smoak Technologies. Good on her for stealing my overqualified staff.” Oliver joked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. Of course, he wanted Thea to go work for Felicity. They would compliment each other greatly. It was a marvelous opportunity for Thea but he would miss her. Truthfully, the only time he saw her nowadays was at work. Perhaps, it was time for a family dinner. William met Thea once, he knew Thea was dying to see her nephew again.

“Oliver? Did you stop listening? Are you okay? Are you mad that I’m leaving? Felicity was concerned but I told her you would be okay. Was I wrong?” Worry was creeping into Thea’s voice.

Oliver patted Thea’s hand. “Hey, sorry. Momentarily distracted. Not mad at all. So happy for you and Felicity. I was just thinking I would never see you if you leave City Hall, then I thought how it would be nice to have you over for dinner. William is doing better. It would be nice for him to see his aunt again.”

“Really? I can see William? That would be amazing! When do you want me to be there? Can I bring a gift? I mean, I missed so many birthdays so I’ve been buying things...can I give him something, PLEASE?!” Thea batted her eyelashes at her big brother.

“Of course you can bring him a present.” Oliver smiled, he really should have done this earlier. “How about tonight? I was going to make pasta. We can celebrate your new job. I miss you, Thea.”

“Tonight it is! Why don’t you swing by my office on your way out, I’ll head out with you?”

“Sounds perfect. How about a half hour? I just need to check some emails. The rest I can bring home.”

“Great! I’m going to let Quentin know about my new job. I’ll start packing up my desk.”

Oliver watched Thea walk away with a bounce in her step. He was still grateful she was alive, she was unconscious when he found her on the island. Luckily, she woke up shortly after. She had given him quite the fright.

*****

Thea: I told Ollie! He’s happy for me

Thea: When do you want me to start?

Felicity: That’s so good! Welcome to Smoak Tech!!!

Felicity: I understand you may need to tie things up at the Mayor’s office

Felicity: But I’d like you to start ASAP, I’m trying to put this event together for next weekend

Felicity: Could really use your expertise

Thea: I can be there tomorrow at 9

Felicity: Wow that would be AMAZING

Felicity: We can talk salary tomorrow...I promise I will pay you

Thea: No worries, I know where you sleep :)

Felicity: Hahaha

Felicity: See you tomorrow

Thea: Can’t wait

“Aunt Thea, who are you texting?” William wandered over to sit on the couch with Thea.

“I was texted my new boss, Felicity. I let her know I would start tomorrow. She seemed happy.” Thea smiled.

“Is this the same Felicity who was on the island?” William picked up the TV remote like he didn’t care about the answer.

Thea watched as William turned on the TV. “Yes, she is the same Felicity from the island. William, have you seen Felicity since the island?”

“No, but I guess she’s been busy. She seems really nice. Look she’s on the front of the magazine Dad brought home.” William got up, he brought the magazine to show his aunt Thea.

“Well how about that. Well done, Felicity.” Thea chuckled as she looked at the magazine.

“She’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?” Oliver stood looking down at his sister. “Dinner is ready.”

“I’ll go wash my hands.” William darted from the room.

Thea followed Oliver into the kitchen area. “William hasn’t seen Felicity since the island? What’s going on Oliver? I knew you were busy but I had no idea. Is this why you keep asking me questions about her? Do you ever see the woman you are in love with?”

As if he didn’t feel guilty enough, now he had his little sister pointing out his flaws. “Thea, I saw Felicity last night.” Yes, he’s defensive.

“Seeing her in the bunker before and after you change doesn’t count, big brother. You better be careful or she might move on to someone knew.” Thea teased.

Oliver’s faced grimaced before he could stop himself.

“What? Is there someone new? I’m shocked I can’t believe it! I don’t believe it! Who do you think she’s seeing??” Thea’s voice was rising as she became more excited.

“Who are we talking about?” William came into the kitchen.

Thea and Oliver responded at the same time, “Nobody, Felicity!”

“Oh, maybe now that Aunt Thea is working for Felicity we can see her again?” William looked hopefully at his father.

“Of course, we can see her again. She asks about you, buddy, I just wasn’t sure you were up for visitors.” Oliver said softly.

“Well, I’m not up for visitors but Felicity would be nice. Unless you don’t want to hang out with her.” William spoke the last words quickly as though embarrassed.

“Ha!” Thea couldn’t help herself. “Your father always wants to hang out with Felicity. Don’t ever let him tell you different. Now, back to the other topic, who do you think she’s seeing?” Thea began twirling her spaghetti around her fork.

“I didn’t say she was seeing anyone. It’s just the magazine reporter asked about Chris Pine.” Oliver looked down at his plate in disgrace. He’d never be able to compete with a gorgeous actor.

“Chris Pine? As in the actor? Now, I’m intrigued. Maybe she can set him up with me.” Thea smiled.

“Weren’t you listening, Thea? I just said Felicity might be dating him herself, she’s not going to set you up.” Oliver could feel his anger increasing the longer this conversation continued. He had to admit when it came to Felicity he became rather caveman like - Felicity mine - summed up his feelings.

“Ollie, Felicity is not dating Chris Pine,” Thea spoke with a serious tone.

“You don’t know that, Thea. Besides, there is no reason she couldn’t be. Chris Pine would be lucky to date her.” Great, now Thea knew he was defensive.

“Oliver Queen,” Thea put down her fork, waited until he looked at her before continuing. “Felicity Smoak loves you. She will always love you. She’s not dating Chris Pine or anyone else. Hell, I think she’d turn down Chris Hemsworth for you!”

Oliver was puzzled. “Who is Chris Hemsworth?”

William took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “Dad, Chris Hemsworth plays Thor.”

“Oh,” was all Oliver could think to say.

“My point, dear brother, is Felicity doesn’t want anyone else ever. You are her always, she is just waiting for you to give her a sign. If you ask me, she’s been pretty damn patient. Time for you to step it up.”

Thea used a tone that made her sound like their mother, not that Oliver would say that out loud, somehow he knew it wouldn’t go over well.

“In fact, why don’t you drop over now. I can hang with William until you get back. He hasn’t had enough Thea influence in his life yet.” Thea winked.

“But…” Oliver wasn’t sure what to say. “The dishes…”

William got up, began collecting the plates and silverware. ���I can load the dishwasher, Dad. Aunt Thea’s right you should go see Felicity. Maybe you could invite her over here sometime.”

“It’s settled. Go.” Thea’s tone brooked no insolence.

“Okay, I’m just going to change.” Oliver began walking toward his room.

“Wear a blue shirt - Felicity likes you blue shirts,” Thea called after him.

*****

Oliver knocked on the loft door carrying flowers. He was suddenly having second thoughts about the flowers, were they too much?

Felicity opened the door. “Oliver? It’s nice to see you.”

Oliver held out the flowers.

Felicity took the flowers. “Wow, for me? Thanks. Come in. Can I ask why you brought me flowers? Not, that I don’t love them. I do...it’s just that we haven’t really spent much time on our own. Not that I’m mad. I understand you have responsibilities. It’s just I missed you a lot so the flowers are nice...I’m going to stop talking now.”

Oliver shuffled his feet, giving away his nerves. “Please don’t. I love listening to you talk.”

“Wow, flowers and compliments. Oliver, you are killing me.” Felicity blushed.

Oliver stepped forward cupped Felicity’s cheek. “I’ve really missed you too.”

Felicity stepped forward so they were as close as possible. “Do you think kissing, might help with that?”

Oliver nodded before quickly capturing Felicity’s lips. Felicity sank into Oliver. She just gave into the feeling of being in his arm again. One of Oliver’s hand remained on her cheek but his other hand moved down her side and back to cup her butt, pulled her closer still.

“God, Felicity,” Oliver broke the kiss for a moment.

“I hope that’s a good God?” She looked up at him nervously.

“Felicity, I’ve missed you every second. I love you. I needed to say that because I had a revelation today that I might not have been clear about that.”

Felicity pressed a quick peck on his lips. “No, you were clear. I knew you had to take care of William. I agreed, remember?”

They were still a breathe apart, Oliver growled, “I remember but that was months ago, then Chris Pine.”

Felicity was confused. Then it dawned on her. “The article. Oliver, I met Chris Pine at a party recently. I totally fangirled it was embarrassing for him and me. You know about my celebrity crush but that’s all it is. I love only one man, named Oliver Queen.”

Oliver kissed her again more passionately. Felicity really wanted this continue so she pulled back for a moment. “Oliver, how long do you have?” She was a little out of breath, quite frankly dazzled. “I mean, where is William?”

“William is home with Thea. Both encouraged me to come spend some time with you. So, I’m in no rush. Do you have something you need to do tonight?” Oliver asked suddenly realizing she might. He looked down at her, noticing for the first time she was in pajama pants and a tank top.

“Just you, Mr. Queen.” She hopped in his arms. “So you had a realization that you needed to make it clear you loved me, how about you show me?”

Hope you liked :) I’m tagging some people but let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged.

@memcjo @wherethereissmoak @green-arrows-of-karamel @mel-loves-all @spaztronautwriter @charlinert @tdgal1 @oliverfel4 @vaelisamaza @coal000 @miriam1779 @laurabelle2930 @onceuponarrow @cruzrogue @lageniuswannabe

[akechi-kikyou]

Long Goodbye: Chapter 2

AN: Oh god, I hope this is ok.  I always get nervous when I make up characters to pad things out.  Plus, I spent a fair bit of time researching places in New Mexico.  Now I kinda wanna visit and stay in this hotel that I referenced.

Fury built up quickly in Hanzo as he rushed outside of his hotel room and down the hall.  Then it occurred to him that he actually didn’t know where he was going, and this stopped him in his tracks.  Anger died down to bitter resentment as he returned to his room and opened his phone to see if his brother had at least thought enough of him to text where he was going.  There was indeed a message from Genji saying that he was going to “see the sights”, but it didn’t say where to find him.  With a sigh, the elder brother closed his phone and put it on the charger.  Then he started to unpack while his resentment devolved even further into sadness.  He wanted to call their father and tell him that they had arrived safely, but what if the patriarch asked to speak to Genji?  Hanzo supposed he could lie and tell his father that the younger brother was sleeping, but a guilty conscience would nag him for the remainder of the trip.  Not calling was the best option until he found his brother, but he didn’t even know where to look.

Once Hanzo had his things put away, he returned to his phone and texted his brother a simple threat, “Be here on time or prepare to smell dirt.”

He had only gotten a few steps away in the direction of the bathroom before his phone’s text message chime sounded.  Genji had wisely replied, “I will. Promise brother.”

“Must be nice to have fun,” Hanzo muttered to himself as he put his phone down and started for the bathroom again.  

About halfway there, it finally hit him that their father was not there.  Genji was already gone, and so it was too late to worry about stopping him from leaving.  Since he didn’t even know where to find the brother, it was also impossible to closely monitor his behavior.  He COULD sit here and wait for him to come back or he could enjoy his freedom just this once.  After today, he could knuckle down and keep a close eye on the younger Shimada.  In the meantime, he was beginning to think to himself that he might as well take this chance to have some fun of his own.

To start off with, he took a very long shower.  Back home, cleaning himself was almost constantly a rush either to get ready for the day or because he was carefully rationing his very limited free time among all the things he wish he had more time to do.  But today, he didn’t have to race the clock in order to spend as much of his last hour before bed as he could reading or rush because his tutor would be arriving soon.  For a good while, he stood under the spray of water and enjoy the feeling of it running through his hair.  

When he finally grew bored of showering, he took his time with getting dressed while watching a television documentary about a girl whose mother forced her to pretend that she had cancer.  By the time it went off, Hanzo managed to dress himself in a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a pair of blue jeans, and tan boots.  He geled his hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.  Then he retrieved his phone from the charger before setting off.

The good thing about the men that their father employed to watch over them was that they never asked questions.   When Hanzo stepped out of his room, he was immediately met by two men who shadowed him in silence as he took the stairs down to the lobby.  

Hanzo had been dead to the world tired when they had first arrived, and so he had not paid much attention to the beauty of the hotel, but now that he was wide awake, the first thing to draw his awe was the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling at the center of the lobby.  Along the cone shaped structure was what appeared to be candles.  However, the “flames” were actually bulbs shaped and painted that way.  Directly below it was a fountain that was surrounded by more electric pillar candles, and there were more near the front desk, which was made of the same wood as the wardrobe.  

As he walked, his footfalls sounded lovely echoing off of the shining floor.  Truthfully, he didn’t know where he was going, but when he spotted a family coming from a corridor to the far left, he got curious and headed that way.  His reward was a heavenly scent that made his stomach growl.  Following his nose, he found himself in the hotel’s restaurant.  The interior, being mostly lit by sunlight coming in from the large windows around the room, was a beautiful sight to behold with many round tables covered in crisp white table cloths and beautifully folded napkins next to crystal clear wine glasses.  But Hanzo, after taking note of the sign directing him to sit anywhere, wandered out onto the patio, which looked and smelled lovely.  All of the tables out here were arranged so that they would have a good view of a calming fountain at the center of the area.  The outer walls of the hotel were covered in beautifully fragrant leaves and vines while planters along the perimeter were filled with lovely blooms of hyacinth.

Immediately after Hanzo seated himself at a table close to the fountain, a waiter filled his glass with water and then promised to give him a few minutes to look at the menu.  But the young man already knew what he wanted and ordered right away.  Once the water had gone, Hanzo opened his phone and let his thumb hover over the camera button as he pondered. Should he take a selfie?  This place was so beautiful that he wanted to preserve the memory, but what would his father think if he discovered the picture of his eldest son having fun while Genji was nowhere in sight?  He bit his lip for a few moments in contemplation before finally pushing the button to switch to camera mode.  Then he took a picture of his very serious expression that was carefully framed to include the fountain and the hyacinth in the background.  There.  It was done.  Hanzo put his phone down on the table next to his fork, but then quickly picked it up again and went through all of the necessary actions, only pausing when his phone asked him if he was sure that he wanted to delete his picture.  Sighing, he closed the device and sat it down again.  No, he wouldn’t.  As much as he hated the idea, he decided that if things came to it, he would lie.  

With this decision made, he started to think about his agenda for tonight.  While his father wanted Genji to be present at the meeting, a guilty part of Hanzo hoped that his brother would screw up and not make it back in time.  Then he wouldn’t have to deal with the anxiety of worrying that the punk would embarrass him in front of a prominent gang leader.  Speaking of, his thoughts wandered to that person as he imagined how all of it would go.  While his English was fluent, he was told at least once that his accent was heavy.  Hopefully, this McCree would understand him alright.

While he mentally rehearsed things he might say, his food arrived to momentarily replace his anxiety with joy.  He had ordered something that he would have never taken the occasion to eat back home -- a cheeseburger and fries.  Hanzo was in awe of the fact that the burger itself took up half of the plate, while the rest was occupied by fries and a single pickle slice.  

“Wow,” he remarked to himself as he stared at his meal.  He couldn’t possibly hope to eat all of this himself, but as he picked up a fry and dipped into the provided tin cup of ketchup, he silently vowed to do his best.

Hanzo made it a little more than halfway through the burger and finished a good portion of the fries before he finally couldn’t take any more.  His plan was to end his meal there, but then the waiter started to talk to him about desserts.  A short while later, he was presented with a sundae composed of coffee ice cream garnished with cinnamon crisps and a drizzle of Mexican chocolate.  Despite his full stomach’s protests, he finished it, but not without consequence.  Getting back to his room was torture, and when he arrived, it was all he could do to set an alarm for 6 PM before falling into a delightful food coma.

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

Instead of his alarm waking him at 6, it was Genji to wake him at 5:30 by gently shaking him and calling, “Brother?  Brother, wake up!”

The sleepy young man moaned as he sat up, “What is it, Genji?”

“I’m back in time for tonight, brother!”  Genji was beaming with pride in himself for having done the right thing for once.  Still, Hanzo found himself in no mood to praise him for something he should have been doing all along.  The younger brother didn’t seem to mind, though.  He continued wearing his smile as he put a small plush Pikachu on his brother’s leg.  “I won it for you, brother!”

“You did?”  Hanzo was caught off guard by this.  Picking it up, he gently pressed down one of the character’s long ears and then poked at its nose. It wasn’t often that Genji gave him gifts.  Birthdays and Christmas were a given, but he could recall only one time where the younger sibling had presented the elder with a present for the sake of it.  Turning back to Genji, Hanzo rose his brow, “Thank you… but if this is a preemptive apology for something you’re planning to do later, I will still beat you.”

Genji slightly pouted at his brother’s mistrust, “I’m not planning to do anything.  I’m sorry that I left without telling you as well, but you were so tired.  I covered you with the blanket and stayed with you for a while, but I got too excited to get out and see everything.”

Again, Hanzo was caught off guard.  Why was his brother being so… like this?  It was hard to fault the younger for wanting to go out and explore a little, especially when Genji had kept his promise to come back on time.  And his gestures of brotherly affection?  They were melting right through the cold exterior that comes with being an aggravated elder sibling.  Right now, Hanzo couldn’t even be threatening because he was thinking to himself that he really did love this punk despite all of the trouble he caused.

Despite all of these positive feelings, Hanzo still made a ‘pff’ noise as he sat the Pikachu aside.  At this, Genji’s face fell and he started to look down at the floor.  “Brother, I…I know this is important to you, so I want to behave properly.  I know you didn’t want me to come…”

Hanzo felt an urge to hug his little brother, but instead, he rolled his eyes and walked right past him to the bathroom.  On the way, he spoke over his shoulder, “Are you hungry?  Did you eat?”

The question seemed to be enough for Genji, who picked himself up and followed, “I had pizza.  I’m sorry I didn’t bring back any for you, but I wasn’t the one who paid.”

Of course, Hanzo thought.  It was only their first day here, but his brother had already found a girl who was willing to spend her allowance on him.  How typical.  While Genji leaned against the doorframe, Hanzo started getting ready for tonight with brushing his teeth.  The younger seemed to get the hint that they needed to get ready and so he started undressing. At the moment, the younger brother was wearing sneakers and black jeans with a black button up short sleeve shirt and a green tie, but he started with undoing the latter while stepping towards the shower.

“Oh,” he paused in his actions.  “Should you go first?  I usually take longer…”

“I showered earlier, so go on if you haven’t,” Hanzo removed the toothbrush from his mouth and replied with a mouthful of foam.  He rinsed his mouth afterwards and then headed back to the bedroom to get dressed.

As he laid his planned outfit on the bed, he found himself wishing he had saved the pinstripes for tonight instead, but once he was dressed, he felt reassured that he looked just as good in a grey figure flattering waistcoat, a crisp white shirt, black slacks, and a blue and white striped tie.  While he rolled up his sleeves, he sat down on the bed and stepped into his new shined up black shoes.  Then he grabbed the remote and began flipping through television channels, hoping to find something as interesting as the documentary from earlier.  

Hanzo was usually quick to get ready, but Genji was another story.  It was 6:30 by the time he finally exited the bathroom clean and with his hair all styled up.  The younger brother dressed in a waistcoat as well.  However except for his shirt, Genji was all in black, including the tie, much to Hanzo’s surprise.  If he was not wearing the green tie, Genji must have been really serious about behaving tonight.  Wanting to show the boy just a little affection, Hanzo stood and tied his brother’s tie for him.

“Father would be proud,” he remarked as he worked.  “You look like a true Shimada heir.”

Genji didn’t have a quip for once, but his smile said everything.  Once his brother finished helping him with the tie, the younger sibling looked at the time on his phone and then started for the door.  “We should go now, Hanzo.  Better to be a little early than late.  Isn’t that what father says?”

The elder’s face lit up with pride as he followed out. “Yes, that is in fact what our father would say.”

“Because then we can scope out the place before they arrive,” Genji added enthusiastically as they started down the hall with their men falling into step behind them.

At this, Hanzo chuckled, “Yes, that as well.”

He was in a good mood right up until they got into the car and started rolling towards their destination.  Genji behaving so well was a positive, but he was beginning to become suspicious of it in the belief that if his own brother didn’t pull some stunt, something else would go wrong.  Again, he thought of his Japanese accent.  Americans can be rude, especially when it comes to language barriers, or so he had heard.  There was also a scenario that he had not considered until now -- what if this McCree had an accent of his own? The only thing worse than the other party not understanding him would be himself not understanding the other party and looking like a fool for it.  Nervousness made his fingers want to be busy, and so they picked at nothing on his pants and checked the knotting of his tie several times.

“Brother, tomorrow we should go shopping,” Genji spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Why should we do that?”  Hanzo’s tone sounded very cold, but it was all he could do to mask his anxiety.

“The weather here is very hot.  My legs sweated and made my pants stick to them.  That’s why I needed to shower again.”

Hanzo considered it and then nodded, “If you behave properly tonight, I will take you tomorrow.  Also, after today, don’t leave the hotel without getting my permission first.”

“Yes, brother,” Genji obediently nodded.  Then a smile appeared on his face.  “After today, you said.  That means I could leave later tonight.”

“Do it,” Hanzo spoke flatly.  “You must like how dirt smells.”

“No!  I just… thought I should confirm.”  Genji inched away from Hanzo towards his window and started to look out at the scenery.  That was the end of their conversation.

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

“Brother, are we going to a train?!”

The car ride here had been a short one into what was known as the Railyard Arts district, if the writing on the water tower that loomed above the place was to be believed.  They were met in a parking lot across the way from a brewery by several men who immediately made them feel that they had stepped into a western.  At least two had shotguns slung like yokes around their necks, but Hanzo couldn’t take his eyes off of the tallest man he had ever seen.  This burly lad had on a leather vest with knives that definitely weren’t tucked into it for decoration.

Hanzo and Genji had been told to meet the Deadlock Gang here, and so they assumed they were going inside of the brewery, despite all of the weapons that the gang had.  However, they found themselves being led in the opposite direction of the building to the railroad, where a train with two cars waited.  

The eldest brother didn’t need to answer the whispered question as they were all escorted onto the last car.  In here were even more men and a single girl with long dark hair leaning against a rifle that was as tall as she was.  Unlike the cowboys she was surrounded by, she wore a tan Native inspired top, short denim shorts with frayed edges, a necklace and bracelet of turquoise and a single long feather tied in her hair right above her left ear.  Genji tried giving her a flirtatious smile, but she responded by switching the rifle to the other side of her body and turning up her nose.  

Both brothers, Shuichi, and one other man were escorted into the first car, leaving behind the rest.  When they arrived inside, the brothers were frisked by two of the gang and then directed towards the comfortable looking passenger seats at the center left of the car.  This would leave two of their men guarding the door along with two of the Deadlock Gang’s men.

Upon arrival, both brothers stood before two seated people and bowed before sitting across from them with Hanzo allowing Genji to take the window seat.  The younger brother had sat across from someone that Hanzo noted to be a rather scrawny lad.  He didn’t give that person much of a look, as he was more focused on the man directly across from him who appeared to be in his mid twenties.  This person was wearing a red flannel shirt and blue bootcut jeans over boots and had brown slicked back hair under his brown stetson.  Hanzo was about to address him when the silence was broken by the drawling voice of the one across from the youngest Shimada brother.

“Genji, good to see you again.”

Confused, Hanzo looked at the young man and then at his brother, whose face lit up as he replied, “It IS you.  I thought so, but I didn’t think I would see you here.”

The scrawny youth smiled and tipped his hat, “Well, I had a feelin’ I’d be seein’ you.”

Now this person had earned Hanzo’s attention.  His baby face didn’t have a single follicle of hair that didn’t belong to his eyebrows.  Wisps of brown hair underneath his black cowboy hat stopped just above of his collar.  He was wearing a red bandana over a white shirt and black vest, and his long, twig-like legs were clad in black denim and leather chaps.

“The two of you know each other?” Hanzo questioned the duo near the window.

“We met today,” Genji answered.  “At the arcade, and he bought me pizza.  This… wasn’t what he was wearing, though.”

“You weren’t dressed so nice either,” a sly smile graced the other’s face and remained as he turned to Hanzo and tipped his hat at him.  “And you must be Hanzo.”

“I am,” Hanzo nodded.  He was being very polite when he really wanted to outright ask who the hell this kid was.  They had been told that they would be meeting with the boss of the Deadlock Gang and given the name McCree.  There had been no description, which was why Hanzo kept looking to the stoic character directly across from him.  Surely, the leader of a notorious gang couldn’t be…

“Heard a lot about you, mostly from Genji,” the kid continued to talk.  “Can I get ya’ll somethin’ to drink?  We got water and Coke.  Nothin’ strong.  ‘Pologies.”

Before Hanzo could say a word, Genji answered, “Coke!”

The other young man turned to the older at his side and held up three fingers.  Then, much to Hanzo’s momentary surprise, that person stood and headed to the seats behind them.  While the sounds of fishing around in ice could be heard, Hanzo thought to himself that he should have known things would go this way.  Their father had insisted on sending Genji along -- he had trusted them with this because they were meeting with a child.  Though McCree’s voice had enough bass in it to be worth something, Hanzo still couldn’t see him as a man.

“How ya’ll likin’ Santa Fe so far?” McCree was asking them.

Genji immediately piped up, “I’m enjoying myself.  Thank you.  Thank you.”

The last thanks was for the man who had returned with three Cokes.  He gave one to each brother before handing one over to their host, who further displayed his position by dismissing the older man with a few whispered words.  Hanzo watched him go and then turned to look at McCree again.  Salt laced his words as he asked, “So you’re the Gunslinger?  You.”

Genji nearly choked on the Coke that he was drinking.  Hanzo was going to just let his brother sputter, but McCree was the one to reach over and pat the hunched over boy’s back.  “Take it easy now.  Guess American Coke’s got a little more bite to it.”

“I’m sorry,” Genji apologized when he could stop coughing like an idiot. “I thought that other guy was the boss.”

Well, at least Hanzo could agree with his brother on that.  When he turned his attention to McCree, he found the other one smirking.  “Who, John?  Nah.  The only boss of Jesse McCree is Jesse McCree unless someone’s gonna pay Jesse McCree real nice to do somethin’.  Then, maybe that guy’ll get to be Jesse McCree’s boss for a while.”

“Do you always refer to yourself in the third person?”  Hanzo shot out and then regretted it.  Even though he couldn’t take this kid seriously as the boss of anything, he reminded himself that he still needed to be respectful for the sake of the deal.

“S’a bad habit of Jesse McCree’s,” McCree replied and then winked.  “I get it.  You’re serious and wanna get down to it right now.”

“You can get us guns,” Hanzo started.

McCree interrupted, “I can get you anything.  It really just depends.”

“On what it is, I’m assuming.”  Now that they were actually talking business, Hanzo started to feel a lot more comfortable.  Grabbing the cap of the Coke bottle, he twisted it off and had a quick sip.

McCree, in the meantime, left his untouched and resting between his crossed legs.  He nodded, “On what it is, and on who’s askin’.  If it’s for you, I can definitely get anything ~”

Hanzo’s face began to feel a little hot, but this only aggravated him.  After a self reminder to stay polite, he spoke again, “We could always get guns ourselves…”

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” McCree folded his arms behind his head and leaned back.  “There’s a Walmart we can drop ya’ll off right in front of.  You can go right in ‘n grab yourselves coupla guns right now.  You shoulda been told we don’t get children’s toys.  If ya’ll want water guns, go to someone else.  If ya’ll want military grade hardware, you’re hangin’ around on a train with who’s gonna get it for ya.  But if ya’ll think I can’t cuz’a my cute face…”

Hanzo wanted to punch that cute face, but instead, he turned and gestured to Shuichi, who brought along a black briefcase.  The elder Shimada waited until his man was gone to place the case on McCree’s lap.  With a quirked brow, the young man sat up and opened it.  Then he closed it with a grin.

Hanzo wouldn’t give him a chance to say something annoying.  Instead, he spoke quickly, “That’s a retainer fee.  You’ll get the rest when you deliver.”

“Nice,” McCree smiled, opening the case again and taking out a stack of rubberbanded American cash to smell.  “Smells real nice.  You can tell your boss that we’ll be deliverin’ in a week or less.  Until then, I’m gonna put a chunka this to work tonight.  Let me show ya’ll a little hospitality.  Steak’s on me tonight, boys.”

He had a polite decline all ready, but before Hanzo could say a word, Genji was already saying, “Great!”

Hanzo wanted to strangle him then and there, but it wasn’t worth it.  If the damn cowboy wanted to treat them to free dinner, why not?  What was the worst that could happen?

[onlyjihoons]

burgers and confessions; park jihoon

a/n; since its the last day of the lunar new year, i thought it would be good to post a lion dance! jihoon au:)) i hope you guys like it!!

Ever since he was younger, Jihoon found great fascination in the rhythmic beating of the drums and swift steps of the traditional lion dance. With the support from his parents and the rest of his family, he joined a local lion dance troupe. When he joined, he fell deeper and deeper for the arts, from playing the drums to being part of the lion. He had also made some valuable friends from his hobby, including you, the sister of his boss.

Your older brother had a passion for lion dancing since he was younger too, which lead him to set up his own lion dance troupe once he graduated with his business diploma. At first, the troupe was only a small group of 10, but now it expanded to over 200 people, even having different centres in different parts of the country. His troupe was eventually crowned as one of the biggest troupes in the countries, considering that lion dance was now a dying trade. Of course, with your brother’s strict training and teachings, the troupe also won the best performance award in many competitions. You would always tag along with your brother to watch the dancers train, faces lighting up whenever you’re around. Jihoon being one of the younger dancers, immediately clicked with you as friends. The rest of the older dancers would tease Jihoon after you left, the younger dancer threatening to break their drumsticks if they continued. They stopped teasing Jihoon though, only for the rest of the day.

You, on the other hand, took up a much “gentler” form of arts, rhythmic gymnastics. Your brother never pressured you to take up lion dance, but was glad you showed interest in the dying trade despite having no interest to take up the sport itself. You would tag along to give useful tips on the movement of the lion, as well as the rhythm of the drum music. You happened to be close friends with Jihoon, who happened to be the same age as you. The shy boy would always take some time off his training to chat up with you, and you would always thank him with a energy drink you always bought for him beforehand. You could say the two of you were childhood friends, as he joined the troupe when he was 8. You never really thought of Jihoon as anything more than a good friend, though, sometimes you would imagine how he would be like as something more. You would always shake the idea off, thinking that he’d probably have someone else in mind already.

But what you didn’t know, was Jihoon, who was feeling the exact same way you were feeling.

____________

“No, no.” You shook your head, as the head of the lion, Jisung, took off the head to listen to your instructions.

“You should move more to the– nevermind. Let me do it.” You motioned Jisung to pass the head to you, who willingly obliged. Jihoon, who was the “tail” of the lion, gulped. He never got this close to you, despite being childhood friends. Now, he had the added pressure of not dropping you, but he quickly snapped out of his trance.

“Ready?” You turned your head towards Jihoon, who was flushed red, “Hey, do you need a break? You seem really red.”

Jihoon wasn’t tired at all, actually, he was a little bit uncomfortable about the fact that he would be touching your waist. He looked away shyly, then shrugging off the fabric of the lion and running off to the break room. You were puzzled, Jihoon could’ve just informed you that he needed a break, instead of suddenly backing out like this.

“What’s wrong with him?” You scratched your head, taking off the lion head, “I just asked him if he needed a break and he ran off like this.”

“The choreography does require a bit of lifting– oh.” realisation hit Jisung, who then laughed, “He’s shy.”

“Shy?”

______

“I can’t even look at her in the eye, what do I do?” Jihoon whined as he ruffled his hair in exasperation.

“Yeah, what do you do?” Seokjin patted his shoulder, as Jihoon jumped up.

“B–boss…”Jihoon stuttered, “it’s not what it seems…”

“You don’t like my sister?” Seokjin frowned, “I heard the rest of the dancers saying you like her.”

“I do! I like Y/N! A lot.” Jihoon blurted, then flushing red again.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin comforted Jihoon, as the elder slipped a pair of meal coupons into Jihoon’s hands, “Just a heads up, my sister loves food.”

________

“Hey, Park Jihoon, where did you go?” You nagged at your friend, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jihoon plastered a fake smile, “And actually, Y/N, can we go for dinner together later? I have some meal coupons, and I can’t finish them on my own.”

You looked at the coupons in his hand, it belonged to your favourite fast food chain, Lotteria. Your eyes brightened up, “Sure.”

“Woah, why don’t you treat me to dinner?” Jisung joked, “I want to eat burgers too.”

“Get them by yourself, hyung.” Jihoon blushed, packing up.

_____

“Thank you.” you thanked Jihoon as he gently placed the food down, taking his seat opposite you.

“How’s the burger?” Jihoon asks, mouth full with fried chicken.

“Delicious,” You mumbled, “It’s my favourite fast food restaurant. They never disappoint.”

“I thought gymnasts needed to watch their diet.” Jihoon teased, earning a fry slap from you.

“You shall not speak of the word ‘diet’ in this sacred place.” You warned with another french fry in hand, as Jihoon raised his hands in surrender.

The both of you ate in silence, only the sounds of milkshake sloshes and scrunching of paper wrapping filling the atmosphere.

“I’m not full yet.” You complained, “That was just an appetizer.”

“Me too.” Jihoon sighed, getting up, “I’ll buy another fried chicken meal. We’ll share.”

While Jihoon was ordering the food, you were unsure of how to confess to your friend. You were afraid that your friend would stop being friends completely, or even worse, hate you for liking him.

The food came faster than expected, immediately shaking you out of your thoughts. You stole another glance at Jihoon, whose hair was sported in a messy, disheveled fashion, white cotton tee hung loosely on his toned body. Your heart immediately quickened, as you looked away to hide the growing blush on your cheeks.

“Y/N, I have something to tell you,” Jihoon began, running his hair through his locks, “Can you promise me that you wouldn’t tell anyone?”

“What, are you leaving the troupe?” You giggled, as you earned a frown from your friend, “Alright, okay. I promise you.”

“So… I happen to like this person. And they’re really pretty and passionate about what they do…” Jihoon described his crush as if they were his entire universe, his brown orbs brightening up with every praise he came up with.must be lucky, you thought, losing all hope for yourself.

“And they happen to be my best friend. Y/N.” Jihoon sighed, looking at you hopefully, “I don’t know how to confess to her.”

You stared at your best friend in utter surprise, unsure of what to say, “You just did… You just need to ask the golden question next.”

It then dawned on Jihoon that he just expressed how whipped he was for you, without even noticing. He blinked slowly, blushing too much for a day.

“And if you’re wondering… I like you too.”

[vamonumentlandscape]

Lexington: VMI, W&L, and more

After traveling from our college campus on a winding road for about an hour through the Blue Ridge Mountains, we reached the historic town of Lexington, Virginia. Home to two notable institutions of higher learning that continue to contemplate their ties to famous Confederate Generals, Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson, we knew that a stop in this tiny place was an essential stop during our travels. With the varying opinions in the public of what to do with this history, Lexington is ripe with ongoing discussions, and we sought to make a stop at each current site of controversy or recent action.

We were lucky enough to get a decent parking spot that was close to the modest home of General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson and Mary Anna Jackson, his second wife. Tickets to see the site were at an affordable price in the gift shop, and we quickly meandered through the small exhibition just beyond the cashier. We learned various facts about Jackson’s life, his legacy, and also that the building housed a hospital from 1907 to 1954 before turning into a museum. Artifacts and displays did not romanticize the life of Jackson, but we were not starstruck by any means. However, when we began the self-guided tour of the home, the first stop was the kitchen and slave quarters in the basement. Right away, we were provided grounds for comparison to the lived experiences of slaves and those of the Jacksons upstairs. Though we were following along okay with tour videos provided on the museum website, we met a historical interpreter named Brian who had been working at the museum for decades. We found out through Brian that the staff had been sharing the enslaved narratives since the house became a museum. Though the Jackson family did not own as many slaves as other rich families in the Antebellum South, we felt some sense of relief that the presence of the enslaved was a permanent element of any visit to the home. We passed through the upstairs dining room, the bedroom, a study, and a sitting room, while also learning about the short-lived marriage between Stonewall and his first wife, Elinor Jackson. The marriage only lasted such a short time because she died in childbirth. Two years before the end of the Civil War in July of 1863, Stonewall was mortally wounded accidentally by one of his men. He never returned to his home in Lexington after leading a brigade out of the nearby Virginia Military Institute, where he had taught for a brief time. By 1865, the Union won the war, and Mrs. Jackson had to free the family’s enslaved workers. David informed us that Mrs. Jackson was dumbfounded in finding out that an enslaved woman was dissatisfied with her family being in bondage. Mary Anna said something along the lines of “We had been through everything together.” Though Stonewall did not speak vehemently in favor of the peculiar institution of enslavement of human beings, he did believe in his Christian faith not giving him any moral right to question its existence. This was probably the most important detail that we learned from David during our visit, and we believe it is grounds for serious discussions of revisions in how Stonewall Jackson is remembered throughout the South, especially in Virginia. While he is a hero to some, he is reviled by others.

On our way to Oak Grove Cemetery, formerly Stonewall Jackson Memorial Cemetery, we saw a few historic churches, a veterans memorial, and historic signs by the Righteous and Rascals of Rockbridge. The best part of our walk however, was my (Tomi’s) trip into the Rockbridge Republicans headquarters. I walked into the headquarters to see a small area, no bigger than 16x12 feet. Two women were in the small room, one at a desk and the other right across from her. It was somewhat dark, filled with signs for Glenn Youngkin, old Trump signs, and other Republican names known to those in Virginia. The sign that caught my eye first was “Retain the Name” in reference to Washington and Lee’s possible name change. I walked in and asked the two women what the organization did in Lexington and that I was a student doing research from Randolph College. The response I got was much more elaborate than I could have asked for. The woman at the desk began to speak, but was cut off by the other. She told me they were trying to defend history. “They were like midnight riders when they came by and took down all the Confederate flags on the bridge”, “They (50 Ways Rockbridge) want to erase all of our history”, “There was no vote to change the name of the cemetery! (Oak Grove) The city just did it!” “The Generals Redoubt is an organization we align with about keeping Washington and Lee’s name the same.” All the things she was saying came from the simple question that I posed. All I could do was smile and nod with the bombardment of information. Her passion for the preservation of the Confederate flags on city bridges, supporting Generals Redoubt, and wishing the cemetery still kept it’s old name are all valid beliefs she is entitled to have. However, the misinformation she believed and was spreading is not. When she said that the city had removed the flags and Stonewall’s name from the cemetery without a vote, I knew that this was not true. According to the Richmond Times-Dispatch, Lexington’s city council voted and made the decision in 2011 to remove the Confederate flags from city poles and in 2020 about the name change for Oak Grove. Nothing good can ever come from the spread of misinformation. I spoke with the other woman, who agreed with the beliefs of her colleague, but did not express them in the same way. She mainly expressed that she wanted to keep the history in Lexington alive. She informed me that she was born in the Stonewall Jackson Hospital in its last year, so she didn’t want to see such an important place to go away. Thankfully, I could enlighten her from our previous visit to the home, they preserved that history and Stonewall Jackson’s as well. In this conversation, I learned from these women how easy it is to be uninformed by choice. Nothing is wrong with being a Republican. Nothing is wrong with having these views. We are all entitled to our opinions as this is America. There is something very wrong with spreading and believing information that is incorrect.

In the last paragraph, 50 Ways Rockbridge was mentioned. This is an organization with “a group of concerned citizens from Rockbridge County, Virginia, working together to research, educate, and act on major issues that affect all of the 50 United States, especially Virginia and our local area. Our guiding political principles are inclusion and fairness.” This organization has worked to help the community with resources like PPE during COVID-19. They have a political agenda and have worked hard to create a more inclusive environment in Lexington. They are on the complete opposite side of the spectrum of the Rockbridge Republicans. It was very interesting to see one group condemning the other. We hope to chat with some of the board members of 50 Ways to see their dynamic in this small town.

Our visit to Oak Grove Cemetery, formerly known as Stonewall Jackson Cemetery, required us to make a short walk in the sweltering Summer heat of Central Virginia. When we reached the cemetery, we were quickly able to find the gravesite of the man whose home we had just visited. There were some strong storms the night before, so a few workers were clearing some downed trees around the tall memorial dedicated to Jackson. Though it was very loud and hard to take in the memorial as intended, we did not find much wrong with the statue or the pedestal. Sure, it was extravagant and grand in size compared to the other gravesites, but there was no troubling Lost Cause language that had bothered us in places like Monument Avenue in Richmond. Perhaps this is because the infamous United Daughters of the Confederacy or Sons of the Confederacy did not have much to do with its placement. Whatever the case may be, we do not feel that this statue has to come down. If a tourist wants to visit Jackson’s grave and leave a lemon (a tradition because he ate one before every battle), they are free to do so. If they do not want to seek it out, they do not have to. A memorial of this size at Jackson’s grave is less problematic than one on a busy municipal street. The renaming of the cemetery by the City government seems to be the most appropriate action and the furthest they should go.

Before stopping at the campus of Washington and Lee University, we got a quick bite at a unique Burger and Doughnut restaurant called Pure Eats. Though this is not a food blog, we thought it would be appropriate to highlight one of our favorite lunches of the Summer. It’s a small dive joint that every college town needs, but their burgers were especially fantastic. If there is one thing that Lexingtonians can agree on in their complicated environment, it is the food. After hydrating and freeing our faces from any embarrassing dribbles of ketchup and mayo, we headed up the hill to see VMI’s campus, their museum, and W&L to see the Lee Chapel, which is soon to be renamed.

After lunch we went to the fortress that is Virginia Military Institute. We drove around the circular campus multiple times to find a good parking spot to start off our visit. Finally reaching the museum after a long hike up stairs, we entered the glass doors to find an interesting smell. Sadly, as we found out from the museum clerk, there had been intense rainstorms that had flooded the lower part of the museum. We were only able to look around the first level, which was the history of VMI. Before looking around the museum, we spoke more with the clerk. We were just chatting about the museum when she got very emotional about how Jackson was being treated on campus. “He was a good man. He actually educated his slaves when it wasn’t allowed. I don’t understand why they are treating him this way. Hopefully something good will end up coming from it.” Her sympathies seemed oddly personal, we all wondered if this is a commonality among staff at VMI. We walked through the museum which went through the history of VMI from the beginnings to the present. The school began in 1839 to train young men for the Virginia Militia. As the oldest state-supported military college, it has a lot to be proud of and shows off the institution's many achievements. The museum did not shy away from talking about the more difficult history, but they did not tackle it in its entirety. The two main examples of the museum lacking the full story is about African American cadet, Adam Randolph and the issue of allowing women to attend. In talking about admitting African Americans to the college and Adam Randolph, the plaque stated he “left VMI after his third year to pursue other opportunities.” While this is true, the reason for him leaving was left out. The Richmond Times-Dispatch quoted Randolph for his reasoning to transfer to Hampton University: “I just kind of had it, VMI is a great school- but it’s not for everybody.” The article explained the institution’s ties to the Confederacy with statues and traditions like playing “Dixie” at sporting events “troubled” Randolph’s mind. With women attending the institution, the museum blatantly left out the firm opposition VMI felt to women becoming cadets. As detailed in Women in the Barracks: The VMI Case and Equal Rights, VMI was firmly against women attending the school and fought hard in court to avoid the integration of women on campus. The museum completely left this out. Going through the museum was an absolute must to understand the complex and interesting history of VMI.

On VMI’s campus we explored around to see where General Jackson’s statue once stood, but what caught our eyes most was the building right behind the former statue. “STONEWALL JACKSON” adorned the notorious barracks building named after the former physics professor at the school. As we were told in the Jackson House by a wonderful guide named David, Jackson wasn’t the beloved professor he has come to be known. He was a firm lecturer who struggled with expanding on the topic more than what the texts from books he read. Former students of Jackson felt as if he was very hard and unwilling to let go of his West Point ties to how he was taught. There is nothing wrong with the school honoring former teachers as they do throughout the campus with the naming of buildings. However, we feel as if Jackson has become a mythologized hero. His legacy at VMI is not one that is more important than another professor, but the institute has made it that way. As we see the building named for him, none of us are shocked or moved as this is understandable and a tradition for the college to do for former professors. But, what shocked us most was the blatant erasure of his name below Jackson’s own quote. “You may be whatever you resolve to be- Stonewall Jackson” is what the building used to read. Now, there is only the quote. There is a difference between reinterpretation and erasure of history. Taking down the statue of Jackson that literally put him on a pedestal makes sense. But, removing his name from his own quote is wrong. As with anything, we must give credit where credit is due. Keep his name with his own words or remove the entire quote. There should be no in between.

Though we were not able to get inside the Lee Chapel, we at least wanted to see the building that had been in the news of late. From what we gathered, the chapel will be split into two components - one being space for campus services at the university and the other being the tombs of Robert E. Lee and Mary Custis Lee. The Recumbent Statue by Edward Valentine depicts General Lee asleep on the battlefield. While the building is being returned to its original name of University Chapel, the tomb will remain intact. In doing so, W&L will continue to allow folks in to visit Lee’s tomb, but will not force all students to feel imposed by his presence while worshipping. Just outside in the quad, the statue of Cyrus McCormick and the obelisk for John Robinson have signage that offers honest interpretation for two men with troubling histories. Though McCormick is credited with inventing the mechanical reaper, his family enslaved many. In 1826, “Jockey” John Robinson sold his land to Washington College, now Washington and Lee University. 73 enslaved African-American women, men, and children were enslaved for ten years as a part of this purchase. By placing signs around these statues for historical context, the institution is acknowledging its past for a more just future. While the Board of Trustees decided that Lee will remain in the school’s name just a few weeks ago, going against the wishes of most of its faculty, the school is confronting its past adequately to appear open to increasing diversity and welcomeness for all.

[runfromthemedic]

Star of the Circus

Chapter 3

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Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You’ll find what you need to furnish it – memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey.

-Tad Williams

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Leora woke to a pounding headache and a mouth that felt like it was coated in grit.

Scrubbing the roof of her mouth with her tongue a few times, the carney decided that water could wait and snuggled farther into the bed to sleep off the dregs of what felt like a really bad hangover.

Then she remembered where she was.

Bolting upright turned out to be a bad idea as she over balanced, tumbling off the bed and onto a sleeping Tsuna. She had no idea why he was on the floor in the first place but his startled screech did nothing to help ease her headache. Or panic.

Because she was in an anime.

An anime that she had watched in her free time. An anime where the underworld was everywhere, people could burst into Flame, and cursed babies kept the world from ending while their dead counterparts policed the criminally inclined. An anime where the main character’s life would go to hell when he was thirteen. A main character who had run her over and dragged her home with him before presenting Leora up to his mother like she was a puppy he wanted to keep.

A main character who had stopped screaming and was now looking at her in concern.

It was hard to move once the initial adrenaline spike wore off. Everything just felt so heavy; her arms, her legs, her head. Like the blood had frozen in her veins, making each numbed movement stiff and awkward.

Her vision narrowed down to a point, focusing only on Tsuna. His spiky hair and concerned, too big eyes. He was talking, probably to ask her a question, but the words were distorted, barely heard over the pounding in her ears as it fully sank in that this was real.

Leora wasn’t sure how she managed to get to her feet and stay upright. She wasn’t sure she actually garbled out the strangled sounding I have to go, or how she made it down the stairs without breaking her neck. One second she was staring at Tsuna, the next she was out of the house and running.

The cold was still in her blood, creeping its way from her chest, inching its way in waves down her limbs in time with the pounding in her ears. But she kept running. She tore through the residential area, making lefts and rights in a mad dash to get away. When the scenery gave way to something familiar she sprinted by the warehouses, covertness abandoned.

Leora tore over the bridge, Home Base her supplied somewhat hysterically, and kept going into the woods. She ran until she couldn’t see the buildings anymore. She ran until her legs, cramped with bare feet that were scratched and bleeding, gave out.

Unable to get back up, to keep going, to run away, Leora curled into a ball and screamed.

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It was dark, she noted absently. The ground was cold too, mist curling around the edges of trees and shrubs, but Leora kept her eyes firmly on the small gap between the trees and the few stars that were peeking through. She didn’t try to get up.

Her whole body ached again, like when she first woke up into this nightmare. And it was a nightmare. She’d lost the only place she’d ever called home, the only people she’d ever called family, and for what? Some fucked up fanfiction plot that she’d never truly wanted to experience.

A small part of her whispered that they hadn’t abandoned her. That they really, truly wanted her and hadn’t abandoned her like she meant nothing.

That small relief was drowned out by the larger part of her, the more practical side, which pointed out that she was never going to see them again.

It hurt.

God, did it hurt.

Leora knew she needed to get up soon, needed to get warm and find shelter. Probably needed to eat. She never did make it to dinner at Tsuna’s house, and she had done her panic-run-freak out before getting any breakfast. She should be hungry.

She wasn’t.

All she really felt was numb, empty, and kind of broken, like a shattered cup that someone had glued the pieces of back together wrong.

What was she supposed to do now?

She didn’t have any money. No clothes, no shoes, no place to stay. No real reason to get up every day.

That last one made the broken feeling worse. Her whole life from the age of six had revolved around the circus, doing her part, making them realize that she was worth the investment they put in her. She had found her place, her niche, something she was good at, enjoyed doing.

That didn’t exist anymore.

She didn’t choose to jump dimension, didn’t want to be in an anime. She had no reason to change the plot. The only reason she’d met Tsuna was because he bowled her over. Everything worked out in the end so she wasn’t needed.

Leora entertained the thought of just lying there, not moving, until everything just stopped. Until she stopped.

Not two seconds later she was hauling herself up onto unsteady feet, stumbling back the way she came, being careful not to twist her ankle on one of the many roots hidden in the dark.

Sifu Yaozu and Amma Eva always said she had good eyes. They probably wouldn’t be happy a trek through an unfamiliar forest, barefoot, and at night was what she was using them for, but they would understand.

Her family would never forgive her if she just gave up. Right now she only needed to live. She’d find a reason later.

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Leora ended up sleeping in the woods that night, despite making it out of the trees. The numbness was still there, making it harder to grab things, and climbing back up the rope to her bridge would become more suicidal than safe.

There were also groups of men standing between the warehouses, smoking, drinking, and being altogether intimidating. So she slept under a bush for the few hours it took for the sun to rise and the gang to clear out.

Then she went back into town to find a more secure place to call Home Base.

No one was glaring at her this time. She got a few odd looks for being barefoot, but for the most part she was invisible to all the people around her.

It was kind of amazing what a change of clothes could do, but the few stares that she did get made her skin crawl. She didn’t want these people looking at her.

So she kept to the roof tops.

She made a short detour into an alley behind a restaurant to scrounge up the breakfast she didn’t really want but knew she needed – the burger tasted like ash – and Leora was back to hobo house hunting. Joy.

Sarcasm fully intended.

There really wasn’t much to work with, if she was being honest. After hours of jumping roofs and ducking in and out of alleys Leora didn’t have much to show for it, besides being more comfortable in her smaller frame.

Namimori was severely lacking abandoned buildings and rundown apartment complexes. When it started getting dark again, Leora settled for sleeping on top of a small antique shop until the next day. Not that she slept much. After the first nightmare of the big top burning down she resigned herself for staring at the night sky until morning.

As soon as the sun came up, she was off again.

She was back on the antique store roof come nightfall, frustrated, and chilled from a surprise shower sometime around lunch time. She had dried off, but she was still colds.

She had managed to snag several water bottles and a few apples that she hadn’t eaten yet from the market district during the chaos that apparently was a special sale day. Leora didn’t see what was so special about it. To her it looked like a horde of starving hyenas masquerading as housewives attacking each other for a pack of toilet paper.

It must be a culture thing.

Either way, the hoard had been too preoccupied to notice their wallets getting lighter so that worked for her. She was now the proud owner of ¥22,000. An actual apartment might actually be possible, albeit a really cheap one, if she could make off with at least another ¥10,000 from the market district.

Hopefully.

Leora really had no clue how much apartments should cost. She’d never needed one before, least of all in Japan.

So, apartment hunting. One that would be decent enough to not be falling apart around her, but questionable enough that they wouldn’t call the police on the 112 cm brat trying to rent an apartment on her own with no parents, no papers, and no shoes.

She really needed to find some shoes, but all the kids size ones where sold in the department store. She wasn’t a good enough thief to make it past all the clerks and video cameras. Plus she was still barefoot. A kid walking into a department store barefoot and dirty was pretty much the same as wearing a blinking neon sign that screamed Desperate: Keep In Sight!

Why the hell did she have to turn into a kid on top of falling into another dimension? It just made things so much harder. And cliché. She wasn’t even going to start about how cliché this whole clusterfuck was.

Day three of hobo house hunting actually paid off.

The building itself was tiny, only two stories with eight apartments to the whole building and on the edge of Namimori near the warehouse district. The bricks were a grey streaked brown in some places, black in others while the stair case and railing were badly rusted. Paint was peeling in thick stripes off most of the doors and what she could see of the tiny, barred windows was coated in grim. Most of the lightbulbs by the doors were busted out and the glass left where it landed. A small vacancy sign was propped up by the only door that looked like somebody cared enough to wash it.

The place looked like a drug den in the making, and any sensible person would have instantly said ‘nope’ and kept hunting.

Leora knocked on the door with the sign.

Someone inside dropped something, cursed, then dropped something else. There was a lot of clattering, more mumbled curses, then the door was yanked open by the scariest woman Leora had ever seen.

She wasn’t that much taller than Leora’s small stature, maybe another thirty centimeters or so, with a rail thin body the carney had only seen on the starving or really, really old. A towel was pinned haphazardly over greasy hair that fell into a sagging face that looked like it had been smashed with a frying pan. When she sneered Leora could see that she was missing teeth.

“Wha’ da yah want, brat.” Her breath reeked of sour food and alcohol, and made Leora’s eyes water. It took considerable more will power than should be necessary not to step back to breathe easier.

“An apartment.” The woman spat on the ground and pointed a cracked fingernail in Leora’s face.

“This ain’t no toy house brat. Go home an’ play with yur dolls.”

“I don’t have dolls.” Leora said with a calm she didn’t feel. “Or a home. You gonna rent me one or not?”

“Wha’d you do? Got mad at mummy and daddy? Run away?” the crotchety old bitch spat, pulling a cigarette out of a pocket and lighting up with the lighter she’d pulled out the other.

“No. The place went up in flames with everyone in it.” Leora spat back bitterly, watching with a curl of satisfaction as the old bitch jerked in shock. “How much for an apartment?”

It was less a question and more of a demand, and they both knew it. The landlady eyed her for a bit, dragging on her cigarette before blowing a lungful of smoke in Leora’s face.

“¥39,000.” Leora snorted.

“¥20,000”

“This ain’t no charity, girl.” The landlady growled, jabbing her lit cigarette in Leora’s face.

“The place is a wreck and I doubt the rooms are much better.” Leora countered, crossing her arms. “You want me to pay more, fix the place up. ¥20,000.”

“¥35,000.”

“¥21,500.”

“¥34,500.”

“¥22,000.” The lady looked murderous.

“¥34,000.” She grit out around her cigarette. “Apartments ain’t cheap, brat.”

“They are when they’re run down and don’t have any tenants.” Leora tossed back, “¥24,000.”

“¥33,000.”

“¥28,000 and I’ll throw in two bottles of sake with a carton of cigarettes once a month with the rent.” The landlady looked dubious.

“How’re yah gonna get that you brat?”

“Do you really care as long as you get it?”

The lady squinted at her through a haze of smoke, trying to find any cracks in Leora’s utterly bored expression. Finding none, she took one last drag on her cigarette before dropping it and grinding it under the toe of her fuzzy pink slippers.

“If da cops come by, Ah’m tellin’ them yah broke in.” she announced before pulling out another cigarette. “You can have 2B.”

Stamping back inside her apartment, the old lady slammed things around for a bit before returning with a battered looking key. She stomped up the stair with more force than Leora thought they could hold before stopping at a door and unlocking it.

Pocketing the key that was tossed at her head Leora pulled out ¥22,000 and handed it over. The woman snatched it greedily before starting to count. She scowled when she realized it was short.

“This ain’t ¥28,000 girl.”

“You’ll get the rest tomorrow. Your booze and cigarettes at the end of the month. I’ll pay rent every first of the month.”

“You don get ta call the shots, brat.” Leora’s new landlady sneered. It apparently was her default expression. Leora glared right back.

“Do you want my money or not?”

The old bitch scowled some more, spat at Leora’s bare feet, and stomped her way back down the stairs. Waiting a minute longer to hear the door the floor below her slam shut, Leora closed and locked her own door.

Then she turned around to see her new living space.

There was a short hallway leading into the main living space just past that weird little step thing all Japanese households seemed to have that held a small sink, a burner, an ancient looking washing machine, and an equally ancient looking mini fridge. Across from that was the bathroom.

It didn’t have much of a bath. The tub looked more like an oversized bucket that could easily be spanned by her smaller arm reach. The toilet was crammed right next to it in a corner. There wasn’t a sink – she figured that she was going to have to use the one in the hallway – but there was a mirror on the opposite wall. The water ran and the toilet worked, so Leora overlooked how dirty it was.

The main room wasn’t much. Small, square little room with a scratched wooden floor, a small window, and a single bare light bulb that was starting to flicker. Leora scrunched up her nose at the gritty feeling the floor had. She didn’t want to know what the grey stuff on the walls was.

A closet took up some of the available space. A dusty futon was crammed in the bottom half of it and Leora did a mental happy dance at the find. Once she managed to beat the dust out and wash it, she would have a halfway decent – if somewhat threadbare – bed.

All in all, her filthy little shoebox place wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. It definitely beat sleeping in the woods or on somebody’s roof again. And no roaches. She couldn’t stand roaches.

Taking one last look around Leora left her new apartment, careful to pick her way around the glass that could embed itself into her already abused feet.

She needed to get her hands on the remaining ¥6,000 and some cleaning supplies. And shoes. She really, really needed to find a pair of shoes.

Her feet couldn’t take much more of this.

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Getting the remaining money turned out to be harder than she thought. There weren’t any more sales going on currently at the shopping district to distract people from the lightening on their purses. There also weren’t that many people out shopping this close to dinner time. So Leora did something that was probably stupid.

She helped herself to the pockets of a group of high school aged delinquents who were smoking and well on their way to being drunk off their asses.

She had to pretend to be lost, stumble a bit, act afraid, and bolt almost immediately after, but she now had ¥9,000 and enough cartons of cigarettes to cover her bitch of a landlady for the next two months.

She probably shouldn’t have promised sake as part of her rental agreement. That would be a lot harder to get her hands on than cigarettes.

Stopping at the park from her first day walking around Namimori, Leora went through a mental to do list.

She needed to get her stuff from the bridge. No one should’ve seen the rope, but there was still a chance someone might. The stuff might not be very useful, but it was from Home. She wasn’t going to risk losing it.

Cleaning supplies was still high on her list. The whole apartment needed a good scrubbing, and she wanted to be able to fall asleep there without waking up covered in dust.

Laundry detergent was another one. Tsuna’s clothes were starting to smell after her mad dash through the woods, sleeping on rooftops, and more dumpster diving. The futon needed a good wash too.

Wincing as one of the many cuts on her feet stung, Leora shifted her priority list around to put shoes at the very top. Which made it tied with a first aid kit.

…Probably should get the first aid kit first. The cuts really needed to be cleaned.

Standing on her much abused feet she started to leave the park, intent on making use of the last few hours of daylight she had left.

“Wait!”

Jerking around, Leora came face to face with a running main character who promptly tripped, falling into the carney and sending them both sprawling. Again.

Leora wheezed as Tsuna’s elbow jabbed into her stomach in his mad scramble to get off of her.

“Hieee, I’m s-sorry!”

“Ss fine.” She managed after she took a minute to get her breath back and levered herself back upright. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re heavy.”

Tsuna’s already distressed face when bright red. Averting his eyes, he twisted his hands together, fiddling with his fingers in a nervous way that she had done when she was a kid herself.

Standing up and dusting herself off, Leora held out a hand to help him up. He looked shocked, and a tad bit wary, but he still took it after a moments deliberations. He went bright red again when she started dusting him off.

“I’m sorry I ran out like that.” Leora said after an awkward moment where the two of them just stared at each other. “I just really…needed to go.” Get away get away her mind supplied, the semi-hysterical chant that had been pushed into a corner since she’d broken out of her panic, but not completely silenced.

It was easier to push aside the more she focused on other things. Like talking to Tsuna, oddly enough. This was the quietest it had been yet. She thought being near one of the main sources of her big breakdown would make it worse.

“Um, it’s going to be a while before I can return your clothes.” Leora added as an afterthought, more than a little sheepish, and ashamed, of the fact. “All of mine are gone, so…yeah.”

“I-it’s fine!” Tsuna hurried to assure, arms flailing around a bit. “You can k-keep them as long as you l-like.”

Tangling his fingers together again, Tsuna took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and looking her directly in the eyes.

“D-do you want to come over for d-dinner? You m-missed it last time.” Almost immediately after the words left his mouth his determined face crumbled, turned bright red, and his eyes went straight to the ground. He fidgeted even more than before.

Meanwhile Leora was seriously weighing the options.

On one hand it would be wasting what few hours of daylight she had left. She wasn’t stupid enough to walk around the warehouse district at night, but she really wanted her few possessions to be in a safe and secure location. Her apartment might be a step or two up from a hovel, but the lock was surprisingly sturdy.

On the other, free food. She didn’t have anything but the two apples she’d stolen from the market…which she forgot to eat. She hadn’t really gotten her appetite back once most of the numbness wore off. This not being hungry thing was going to be dangerous if she wasn’t careful.

They also might have a first aid kit that she wouldn’t have to steal or spend money on.

She was also feeling just a teensy, tiny build guilty for probably scaring a kid with her run-away-freak out after he’d taken her home as an apology for running her over.

“If your mom doesn’t mind, sure. I need to apologize to her too.”

The smile Tsuna shot her was blinding. Literally. Leora had to fight the urge to shade her eyes from the sparkles that were popping to life around his head.

Holy shit, it’s genetic.

Feeling a bit theatric – probably because of the sparkles, the circus master would’ve killed for those kind of illusions – Leora swept out her hand as she bowed from the waste.

“Lead the way Sawada-san.”

Flustered, but still grinning, Tsuna started off down the street, Leora falling into step beside him which seemed to make him smile even more.

The grin stayed in place until they had made it back to Tsuna’s house, when he caught sight of her scratched up feet while taking off his shoe and screeched.

“Hieeee, what happened to your feet?!”

“I lost my shoes. Does your mom have a first aid kit I can borrow?”

Bodily hauling her across the floor to the kitchen in a mad dash to get to his mother, and the first aid kit, was completely unnecessary, and equally unappreciated. He ended up tripping halfway there and making them both face plant into the floor.

[easyfoodnetwork]

Food, It Turns Out, Has Little to Do With Why I Love to Travel 

It’s the people that make a place — but these days, human interaction is hard to come by

I used to love to travel. I’d wander through new cities for days on end, eating and drinking (but mostly eating) in four-seat izakayas, farm-driven pizzerias, southern seafood halls, and boat noodle cafes, talking to locals and walking for miles. Restaurants have always been my joyous entry point to a place and its people. The food, I thought, was what made me love to explore the world.

That slowly fading memory — what it felt like to discover a new city, stomach first — is what excited me about going out on the road again, which I did a couple months ago, driving from Los Angeles to Corsicana, Texas and back, stopping to eat in places like Albuquerque, Amarillo, El Paso, and Phoenix.

Let me be clear: I absolutely would not and do not recommend frivolous travel. In my case, a looming publishing deadline on The Bludso Family Cookbook is what sent me on the long, not-so-winding road to Texas in the midst of a global pandemic, where I would be staying with my longtime friend, mentor, colleague, and big brother Kevin Bludso. Once there, we would be cooking, writing, recipe testing, interviewing, living together, and, in all likelihood, drinking a fair quantity of brown spirits at the end of each night (please, someone get that man a Hennessy sponsorship).

I’ve spent the better part of the last 15 years working in the food industry in one capacity or another. I’ve been a bartender, server, chef, culinary director, restaurant consultant, cookbook author, and food writer. My plan since last year had been to continue writing and consulting on the side, but also to finally open my own restaurant. Nothing extravagant. Something small and intimate. A humble, comforting place of my own — clean and well-lit, a true neighborhood restaurant where people can get to know each other, where the food and the service is unassuming and genuine, something with no desire for expansion or duplication. I consider myself unbelievably lucky that I didn’t open a restaurant right before the pandemic hit.

Instead, I’ve spent the last several months at home, making a quarantine cooking show with my wife called Don’t Panic Pantry. It’s been a good distraction, but I thought a work-related excuse to drive through the American Southwest and its expansive desert would be a cleansing, meditative, soul-resetting break from what I’d begun to think of as perpetual purgatory.

I took every precaution. A nasal-swab COVID test right before I departed. I also hopefully still had antibodies (my wife and I both had COVID-19 way back in March). It was, at the very least, the polite thing to do: Get tested before joining someone in their home for two weeks.

I had planned on driving straight through Arizona from LA, avoiding anything except gas stations until I made it to New Mexico, surviving on a sturdy mix of cold brew and air conditioning to keep me awake. I’d never been to New Mexico before. I’d pored over Instagram photos of chile-drenched Southwestern Mexican food, enchiladas oozing with melted cheese, their red and green chile sauces popping with Instagram photo-editing exposure. My usual pre-trip Google map was loaded with thoroughly researched restaurants along my route. In earlier times, I’d have peppered each map point with essential info like hours of operation and must-order dishes; now, I was looking up intel like outdoor seating, takeout quality, and, most crucially, whether or not a place had managed to stay open at all.

I had slowly but gradually heaped unreasonable expectations on a green chile cheeseburger.

I left with a bullish heart. But each stop to fuel up took away a notch of my optimism-fueled excitement and replaced it with caution. Each person in a mask made me a little more depressed; each person without, a little angrier.

Ten hours in and I had made it to New Laguna, New Mexico. I stopped at Laguna Burger, an iconic mini-chain inside of a gas station. It’s a fast-food place to be sure, but according to old photos online there used to be stools set up against the counter, and even a couple of tables and a few chairs. Those are, of course, gone now — pushed to the side of the room and leaving in their place a vacuous emptiness, even for a gas-station dining room. The staff was nice but appropriately wary. I did not partake in the self-serve Kool-Aid pickle jar. I got my food and then sat in my car, emotionally deflated and no longer very excited to eat my first-ever green chile burger — something I had wanted to try for years.

Ordering a burger at a place like this was supposed to be a tiny gateway into the culture and personality of the place, however small that sampling was going to be. There is an emotional atmosphere, a vibe, that’s specific to each and every restaurant, and I had perhaps never been so truly aware that such a thing existed until I noticed it had been zapped entirely from this one. In its place was a blanket of nervous, sad precaution — added to, I’m sure, by my own nervousness.

So I sat in my car with my sack of food, gloomily disappointed even before the first bite. They forgot to salt the fries and it felt oddly appropriate. In this moment, to no fault of the restaurant itself, the food didn’t matter. It couldn’t have. I had slowly but gradually heaped unreasonable expectations on a green chile cheeseburger, wanting it to justify a 12-hour drive and to somehow soothe an anxious mind. But the food, it occurred to me, wasn’t what I was after at all.

Later on, in Albuquerque, I picked up a four-pack of beer from Arrow Point Brewing and received the now familiar and appropriate treatment: measured, cautious polite gratitude. It was a transaction, appreciated by both sides, but with a higher degree of precondition from both sides as well. I followed it up with a takeout bag of enchiladas and a taco from the beloved and iconic Duran’s Pharmacy, taking them back to the motel room I checked myself into earlier. It was 5:30 p.m. The enchiladas had sloshed in the bag. I took a bite and understood: It was comforting, but not nearly enough. Like being single and reconnecting with an ex, only to both immediately discover that there’s nothing there anymore — two empty vessels with no connection beyond a memory.

I took a sip of beer and fell asleep for an hour. When I awoke the city had turned dark and I knew there was no point in going anywhere. The world felt dystopian and deflated. I’d left my redundant, loving, comfortable bubble to experience life alone on the road, and all I wished was that I was right back there with my wife and my dog.

When my wife and I had COVID-19, we lost our sense of smell and taste for a bit. It was, as my wife put it, “a joyless existence.” Now I had my taste back, but somehow the joy of eating was still gone.

The enchiladas, in a box, alone, on the floor of my motel, were just enchiladas. Because here’s a thing I’ve come to understand of late: context really does affect flavor. A place, its atmosphere, the people within it, their mood (and ours) genuinely change the way things taste. A restaurant lasagna has to be twice as good as your mother’s — or that one you had on that trip to Italy — for it to remind you of it even a little. A rack of smoked pork ribs will never taste as good on a ceramic plate atop a tablecloth as it does from within a styrofoam box on the hood of your car, downwind from a roadside smoker. I hope that I never find out what Waffle House tastes like while sober, eaten in broad daylight.

So as it turns out, when it comes to my lifelong love of food and travel, the food might not have mattered — not to the degree I thought it did, anyway. Not without everything that goes along with it. The surly bartender in the dark room who fries your chicken behind the bar at Reel M Inn in Portland while a guy two seats down makes fun of you for being from California is a huge part of why that might be my favorite fried chicken in the world. The friend of a friend who abandoned his family (thanks Marc!) to drive a stranger, me, around Toronto for two days and show off the city’s outstanding versions of goat roti (from Mona’s Roti) and bún riêu cua (from Bong Lua) makes me realize that yes, the food is outstanding, but that it’s the people — excited to show off their hometown, its restaurants, and their community — who make travel worthwhile.

Would Tokyo be my favorite eating city in the world if my now-wife and I hadn’t befriended two total strangers in a six-seat dive bar, knocking back cocktails until we both threw up, only to come through to the other side fully bonded over late-night grilled pork skewers with another stranger who gave me his business card and said that he had been eating in this stall for over a decade? What is a bar without a bartender? It’s just, well, being home.

The restaurant business can be both horrible and wonderful. It pays poorly, it requires incredibly long hours, and in many instances, you are going broke while making food for people who complain that it’s too expensive. But it is, as Anthony Bourdain often said, the Pleasure Business. It has always been a place for camaraderie, human connection, and community. Those were the things that made the nearly unbearable parts of our business worthwhile — and that connection, when you can have a genuine one between staff and customer, is what I think everyone really, truly wants out of the transaction. Those things still exist, I suppose, but all at arm’s length, or across an app.

I still eventually want to open my own restaurant. I think. But maybe I just want to open my memory of what it would have been in a different, earlier world. I don’t want to be a dinosaur, yearning for the good old days. But I also don’t want to live in a world where a third-party tech company stands between the restaurant and its customer. I don’t want someone to visit my city and think that a robot delivering them a sandwich is the best that we have to offer. I don’t want to have to download an app to order a cup of fucking coffee. Human connection, it turns out, is essential too, and we need to find a way to make it a part of our essential businesses again.

So what, in the midst of a health and humanitarian catastrophe, can we do? Well, we can decide where we spend our money. We support human connection and small businesses. We pick up takeout with our own hands from the places and the people that we love (safely, responsibly). We know that it is just gauze pressed against an open, oozing knife wound, but we try anyway.

So we travel because we have to, whether for work or as a needed break from monotony, and we reset our expectations, we open ourselves up to receiving that connection, we seek out the places that are adapting and we smile through our masks, and ask each other how we are doing, if only to show that somebody cares.

When I eventually made it to Corsicana, Texas, hoisting a large bag of dried red New Mexico chiles, I was greeted with an engulfing hug by Kevin Bludso; it was the first truly comforting thing that happened on the whole trip. I melted into the arms of my friend. I was back in a bubble, connected to something.

I spent two glorious weeks in that bubble, taking turns doing Peloton workouts and then drinking vegetable smoothies, before recipe-testing dishes like Fried Whole-Body Crappie and Ham Hock Pinto Beans; researching Kevin’s family history and then, true to form, sipping rye (me) and Hennessy (him) before I had to head home. Kevin’s food was outstanding, but it was made all the better by the time spent together cooking it. So when I readied myself to get out on the road again, my expectations had changed. I knew the food alone could only do so much.

This disease has been a reflection and amplifier of all of our weak points — and the restaurant business is certainly no different. This industry was already ripe with flaws. It has been teetering on the brink of a seismic shift for years — COVID-19 just accelerated it, and all the platitudes, Instagram stories, and false optimism won’t fix anything. But there have always been bad restaurants as well as good restaurants. I suppose it’s no different now. Yet it is maybe just a little bit harder to give and to be open to receiving the human connection that makes the whole experience worthwhile.

I hope that I never find out what Waffle House tastes like while sober, eaten in broad daylight.

I hit the road early, and after about 10 and a half hours, fueled by caffeine, Christopher Cross, and Bonnie Raitt — with one depressing pit stop in El Paso at the famed H&H Car Wash, where an old curmudgeon out front insisted I take off my mask before going inside — I arrived in Las Cruces, at La Nueva Casita Café. I called ahead, hoping not to have to wait so I could just grab my food and get back on the road. My guard was still up, but then the woman on the other end of the phone was so charming and kind that I was immediately disarmed. She graciously steered me toward the chile relleno burrito (“it’ll be the easiest one to eat in the car”). A few minutes later I came inside to pick up my food and the two women behind the counter were, frankly, a delight. I paid, and was promptly handed my food and thanked with genuine, casual appreciation for coming in. The burrito was excellent.

Bolstered by the kindness of strangers, I drove another five and a half hours into Phoenix. As a bit of an obsessive pizza maker (I had the tremendous fortune to train with Frank Pinello of Best Pizza in Williamsburg, and also had a hand in helping to open Prime Pizza in Los Angeles), I was here to try the new 18-inch New York-style fusion pie by the great Chris Bianco at their Pane Bianco outpost on Central.

Just as at La Nueva Casita Café, the staff was friendly, genuine, helpful, and kind. In retrospect, it took so little but it meant so much. When I expressed a need for caffeine, they sent me next door to Lux Central for a large iced coffee, where the barista talked to me from a responsible distance, wished me a safe drive, and gave me a free blueberry muffin. Even eaten in my car, Chris’s pizza was truly outstanding — crisp, thin, and pliable, successfully pulling off the New York-modern Neapolitan (ish) fusion that, in lesser hands, turns into an 18-inch bowl of soup.

I drove the last six hours home, finding myself encouraged by these final two restaurant experiences, excited by what the best in our industry are still somehow capable of in spite of everything. It was, frankly, inspirational to find genuine interaction, care, and kindness in this new reality.

It reminds me of my mother, actually. I remember when I was a kid, she would pick up the phone to call a restaurant, or Blockbuster Video, to ask them a question. I would always hear her say something like: “Hi Randy! How are you today?” and I would say, “Mom! Do you know him?” and she would shake her head no. Then she would say, “Oh that’s great to hear, Randy. Hey listen, what time do you close today?” My brother and I used to make fun of her for that — for forcing this connection with someone she had no real relationship with beyond an exchange of services. Now, I plan to do exactly that, whenever and wherever I can.

Noah Galuten is a chef, James Beard Award-nominated cookbook author, and the co-host of Don’t Panic Pantry. Nhung Le is a Vietnamese freelance illustrator based in Brooklyn, NY.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34Oc66Q https://ift.tt/34RJ8TD

It’s the people that make a place — but these days, human interaction is hard to come by

I used to love to travel. I’d wander through new cities for days on end, eating and drinking (but mostly eating) in four-seat izakayas, farm-driven pizzerias, southern seafood halls, and boat noodle cafes, talking to locals and walking for miles. Restaurants have always been my joyous entry point to a place and its people. The food, I thought, was what made me love to explore the world.

That slowly fading memory — what it felt like to discover a new city, stomach first — is what excited me about going out on the road again, which I did a couple months ago, driving from Los Angeles to Corsicana, Texas and back, stopping to eat in places like Albuquerque, Amarillo, El Paso, and Phoenix.

Let me be clear: I absolutely would not and do not recommend frivolous travel. In my case, a looming publishing deadline on The Bludso Family Cookbook is what sent me on the long, not-so-winding road to Texas in the midst of a global pandemic, where I would be staying with my longtime friend, mentor, colleague, and big brother Kevin Bludso. Once there, we would be cooking, writing, recipe testing, interviewing, living together, and, in all likelihood, drinking a fair quantity of brown spirits at the end of each night (please, someone get that man a Hennessy sponsorship).

I’ve spent the better part of the last 15 years working in the food industry in one capacity or another. I’ve been a bartender, server, chef, culinary director, restaurant consultant, cookbook author, and food writer. My plan since last year had been to continue writing and consulting on the side, but also to finally open my own restaurant. Nothing extravagant. Something small and intimate. A humble, comforting place of my own — clean and well-lit, a true neighborhood restaurant where people can get to know each other, where the food and the service is unassuming and genuine, something with no desire for expansion or duplication. I consider myself unbelievably lucky that I didn’t open a restaurant right before the pandemic hit.

Instead, I’ve spent the last several months at home, making a quarantine cooking show with my wife called Don’t Panic Pantry. It’s been a good distraction, but I thought a work-related excuse to drive through the American Southwest and its expansive desert would be a cleansing, meditative, soul-resetting break from what I’d begun to think of as perpetual purgatory.

I took every precaution. A nasal-swab COVID test right before I departed. I also hopefully still had antibodies (my wife and I both had COVID-19 way back in March). It was, at the very least, the polite thing to do: Get tested before joining someone in their home for two weeks.

I had planned on driving straight through Arizona from LA, avoiding anything except gas stations until I made it to New Mexico, surviving on a sturdy mix of cold brew and air conditioning to keep me awake. I’d never been to New Mexico before. I’d pored over Instagram photos of chile-drenched Southwestern Mexican food, enchiladas oozing with melted cheese, their red and green chile sauces popping with Instagram photo-editing exposure. My usual pre-trip Google map was loaded with thoroughly researched restaurants along my route. In earlier times, I’d have peppered each map point with essential info like hours of operation and must-order dishes; now, I was looking up intel like outdoor seating, takeout quality, and, most crucially, whether or not a place had managed to stay open at all.

I had slowly but gradually heaped unreasonable expectations on a green chile cheeseburger.

I left with a bullish heart. But each stop to fuel up took away a notch of my optimism-fueled excitement and replaced it with caution. Each person in a mask made me a little more depressed; each person without, a little angrier.

Ten hours in and I had made it to New Laguna, New Mexico. I stopped at Laguna Burger, an iconic mini-chain inside of a gas station. It’s a fast-food place to be sure, but according to old photos online there used to be stools set up against the counter, and even a couple of tables and a few chairs. Those are, of course, gone now — pushed to the side of the room and leaving in their place a vacuous emptiness, even for a gas-station dining room. The staff was nice but appropriately wary. I did not partake in the self-serve Kool-Aid pickle jar. I got my food and then sat in my car, emotionally deflated and no longer very excited to eat my first-ever green chile burger — something I had wanted to try for years.

Ordering a burger at a place like this was supposed to be a tiny gateway into the culture and personality of the place, however small that sampling was going to be. There is an emotional atmosphere, a vibe, that’s specific to each and every restaurant, and I had perhaps never been so truly aware that such a thing existed until I noticed it had been zapped entirely from this one. In its place was a blanket of nervous, sad precaution — added to, I’m sure, by my own nervousness.

So I sat in my car with my sack of food, gloomily disappointed even before the first bite. They forgot to salt the fries and it felt oddly appropriate. In this moment, to no fault of the restaurant itself, the food didn’t matter. It couldn’t have. I had slowly but gradually heaped unreasonable expectations on a green chile cheeseburger, wanting it to justify a 12-hour drive and to somehow soothe an anxious mind. But the food, it occurred to me, wasn’t what I was after at all.

Later on, in Albuquerque, I picked up a four-pack of beer from Arrow Point Brewing and received the now familiar and appropriate treatment: measured, cautious polite gratitude. It was a transaction, appreciated by both sides, but with a higher degree of precondition from both sides as well. I followed it up with a takeout bag of enchiladas and a taco from the beloved and iconic Duran’s Pharmacy, taking them back to the motel room I checked myself into earlier. It was 5:30 p.m. The enchiladas had sloshed in the bag. I took a bite and understood: It was comforting, but not nearly enough. Like being single and reconnecting with an ex, only to both immediately discover that there’s nothing there anymore — two empty vessels with no connection beyond a memory.

I took a sip of beer and fell asleep for an hour. When I awoke the city had turned dark and I knew there was no point in going anywhere. The world felt dystopian and deflated. I’d left my redundant, loving, comfortable bubble to experience life alone on the road, and all I wished was that I was right back there with my wife and my dog.

When my wife and I had COVID-19, we lost our sense of smell and taste for a bit. It was, as my wife put it, “a joyless existence.” Now I had my taste back, but somehow the joy of eating was still gone.

The enchiladas, in a box, alone, on the floor of my motel, were just enchiladas. Because here’s a thing I’ve come to understand of late: context really does affect flavor. A place, its atmosphere, the people within it, their mood (and ours) genuinely change the way things taste. A restaurant lasagna has to be twice as good as your mother’s — or that one you had on that trip to Italy — for it to remind you of it even a little. A rack of smoked pork ribs will never taste as good on a ceramic plate atop a tablecloth as it does from within a styrofoam box on the hood of your car, downwind from a roadside smoker. I hope that I never find out what Waffle House tastes like while sober, eaten in broad daylight.

So as it turns out, when it comes to my lifelong love of food and travel, the food might not have mattered — not to the degree I thought it did, anyway. Not without everything that goes along with it. The surly bartender in the dark room who fries your chicken behind the bar at Reel M Inn in Portland while a guy two seats down makes fun of you for being from California is a huge part of why that might be my favorite fried chicken in the world. The friend of a friend who abandoned his family (thanks Marc!) to drive a stranger, me, around Toronto for two days and show off the city’s outstanding versions of goat roti (from Mona’s Roti) and bún riêu cua (from Bong Lua) makes me realize that yes, the food is outstanding, but that it’s the people — excited to show off their hometown, its restaurants, and their community — who make travel worthwhile.

Would Tokyo be my favorite eating city in the world if my now-wife and I hadn’t befriended two total strangers in a six-seat dive bar, knocking back cocktails until we both threw up, only to come through to the other side fully bonded over late-night grilled pork skewers with another stranger who gave me his business card and said that he had been eating in this stall for over a decade? What is a bar without a bartender? It’s just, well, being home.

The restaurant business can be both horrible and wonderful. It pays poorly, it requires incredibly long hours, and in many instances, you are going broke while making food for people who complain that it’s too expensive. But it is, as Anthony Bourdain often said, the Pleasure Business. It has always been a place for camaraderie, human connection, and community. Those were the things that made the nearly unbearable parts of our business worthwhile — and that connection, when you can have a genuine one between staff and customer, is what I think everyone really, truly wants out of the transaction. Those things still exist, I suppose, but all at arm’s length, or across an app.

I still eventually want to open my own restaurant. I think. But maybe I just want to open my memory of what it would have been in a different, earlier world. I don’t want to be a dinosaur, yearning for the good old days. But I also don’t want to live in a world where a third-party tech company stands between the restaurant and its customer. I don’t want someone to visit my city and think that a robot delivering them a sandwich is the best that we have to offer. I don’t want to have to download an app to order a cup of fucking coffee. Human connection, it turns out, is essential too, and we need to find a way to make it a part of our essential businesses again.

So what, in the midst of a health and humanitarian catastrophe, can we do? Well, we can decide where we spend our money. We support human connection and small businesses. We pick up takeout with our own hands from the places and the people that we love (safely, responsibly). We know that it is just gauze pressed against an open, oozing knife wound, but we try anyway.

So we travel because we have to, whether for work or as a needed break from monotony, and we reset our expectations, we open ourselves up to receiving that connection, we seek out the places that are adapting and we smile through our masks, and ask each other how we are doing, if only to show that somebody cares.

When I eventually made it to Corsicana, Texas, hoisting a large bag of dried red New Mexico chiles, I was greeted with an engulfing hug by Kevin Bludso; it was the first truly comforting thing that happened on the whole trip. I melted into the arms of my friend. I was back in a bubble, connected to something.

I spent two glorious weeks in that bubble, taking turns doing Peloton workouts and then drinking vegetable smoothies, before recipe-testing dishes like Fried Whole-Body Crappie and Ham Hock Pinto Beans; researching Kevin’s family history and then, true to form, sipping rye (me) and Hennessy (him) before I had to head home. Kevin’s food was outstanding, but it was made all the better by the time spent together cooking it. So when I readied myself to get out on the road again, my expectations had changed. I knew the food alone could only do so much.

This disease has been a reflection and amplifier of all of our weak points — and the restaurant business is certainly no different. This industry was already ripe with flaws. It has been teetering on the brink of a seismic shift for years — COVID-19 just accelerated it, and all the platitudes, Instagram stories, and false optimism won’t fix anything. But there have always been bad restaurants as well as good restaurants. I suppose it’s no different now. Yet it is maybe just a little bit harder to give and to be open to receiving the human connection that makes the whole experience worthwhile.

I hope that I never find out what Waffle House tastes like while sober, eaten in broad daylight.

I hit the road early, and after about 10 and a half hours, fueled by caffeine, Christopher Cross, and Bonnie Raitt — with one depressing pit stop in El Paso at the famed H&H Car Wash, where an old curmudgeon out front insisted I take off my mask before going inside — I arrived in Las Cruces, at La Nueva Casita Café. I called ahead, hoping not to have to wait so I could just grab my food and get back on the road. My guard was still up, but then the woman on the other end of the phone was so charming and kind that I was immediately disarmed. She graciously steered me toward the chile relleno burrito (“it’ll be the easiest one to eat in the car”). A few minutes later I came inside to pick up my food and the two women behind the counter were, frankly, a delight. I paid, and was promptly handed my food and thanked with genuine, casual appreciation for coming in. The burrito was excellent.

Bolstered by the kindness of strangers, I drove another five and a half hours into Phoenix. As a bit of an obsessive pizza maker (I had the tremendous fortune to train with Frank Pinello of Best Pizza in Williamsburg, and also had a hand in helping to open Prime Pizza in Los Angeles), I was here to try the new 18-inch New York-style fusion pie by the great Chris Bianco at their Pane Bianco outpost on Central.

Just as at La Nueva Casita Café, the staff was friendly, genuine, helpful, and kind. In retrospect, it took so little but it meant so much. When I expressed a need for caffeine, they sent me next door to Lux Central for a large iced coffee, where the barista talked to me from a responsible distance, wished me a safe drive, and gave me a free blueberry muffin. Even eaten in my car, Chris’s pizza was truly outstanding — crisp, thin, and pliable, successfully pulling off the New York-modern Neapolitan (ish) fusion that, in lesser hands, turns into an 18-inch bowl of soup.

I drove the last six hours home, finding myself encouraged by these final two restaurant experiences, excited by what the best in our industry are still somehow capable of in spite of everything. It was, frankly, inspirational to find genuine interaction, care, and kindness in this new reality.

It reminds me of my mother, actually. I remember when I was a kid, she would pick up the phone to call a restaurant, or Blockbuster Video, to ask them a question. I would always hear her say something like: “Hi Randy! How are you today?” and I would say, “Mom! Do you know him?” and she would shake her head no. Then she would say, “Oh that’s great to hear, Randy. Hey listen, what time do you close today?” My brother and I used to make fun of her for that — for forcing this connection with someone she had no real relationship with beyond an exchange of services. Now, I plan to do exactly that, whenever and wherever I can.

Noah Galuten is a chef, James Beard Award-nominated cookbook author, and the co-host of Don’t Panic Pantry. Nhung Le is a Vietnamese freelance illustrator based in Brooklyn, NY.

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