#I went for bottomless brunch with the girls last Sunday

[becca-e-barnes]

becca, ari levinson is a filthy man and i love it 😩 but can you imagine stepdad ari fucking you on the kitchen counter while guests are in the room over. he could barely hold himself together seeing you in a cute dress, catching a glimpse of your panties when you ✨bent down✨ to pick something up 🤭

No bc Ari is filthy but Stepdad!Ari fucks

I can imagine him getting so risky with it because he gets off on knowing that there are guests in the next room over.

You've been teasing him all evening, running your hand across those broad shoulders, letting your touch linger just a little longer than you should. He also noticed how you'd been bending over in front of him, letting the skirt of your dress ride up the bare thighs he spends so long worshipping. He snapped when you set his dessert down in front of him, getting so close that only he could hear you whisper "you'll get a sweeter dessert later, sir." right against his ear.

That did it for him, your heart pounding in the short space between the dining table and the kitchen door while your stepfather made your apologies to a room full of people that weren't listening anyway.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He whispered, his words soaked in venom. "Are you trying to get caught?"

The correct answer is 'no' but your brain and your mouth didn't connect before you started speaking. "I can't help it, sir." Your voice is almost a whimper as the door closes, Ari leading you by the waist around to the other side of the kitchen counter.

"You can't help it? Even after I fucked you this morning? Your legs were shaking when I left your room and now you need more? You just don't quit." Ari bends you over the counter, facing the door you've just come through before running a huge hand up the inside of your thigh while the other presses down on the small of your back. No panties. And you're soaking wet.

You hear a low groan from him, one that makes your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the feeling of his fingertips drifting between your slick folds.

"Fuck, haven't laid a hand on you and you've got yourself all worked up. We're gonna have to make this quick, sweetheart." He knows he can't drag this out the way he'd like to. Someone is bound to need something from the kitchen within just a few minutes but now you've started, neither of you can stop.

You feel him slipping into you slowly, the blunt head of his cock breeching your hole, pressing deeper until he's slid home and there's no feeling quite like it. "Good girl, that's it. This dick is all yours." He coos softly, giving you just a second before he's pulled back and slammed into you once more.

"Keep an eye on the door, baby. You wanted all those people to see you be a little slut for me. This might be your big chance." His teeth are gritted, trying to work himself to orgasm while rubbing your clit frantically to tear yours from you too.

It takes everything in you not to wail at the pleasure. It feels incredible, getting what you wanted, being pinned to the counter and fucked frantically but you know you can't vocalise that.

"Gonna cum inside you, sweets. Don't want you to clean it up either. You're gonna go back in there and sit at that table with your legs crossed so my cum doesn't leak out. Wanna lick it out of you later. You promised me a sweet dessert, remember?"

[ultralightpoe]

Hits Different - Tangerine

Hits Different - Tangerine

Authors Note : Heya! I am so glad I finally got all the songs filled and am so ready for the event!

MIDNIGHTS EVENT HERE

Word Count: 3433

Warnings: none I think

Enjoy!

I washed my hands of us at the club

You made a mess of me

I pictured you with other girls in love

Then threw up on the street

Like waiting for a bus that never shows

You just start walkin' on

They say that if it's right, you know

Each bar plays our song

Nothing has ever felt so wrong

Nothing really registered properly at the moment, the only thing you knew was your palms were digging into the grass below you as your best friend cursed behind you, holding your hair back as you puked in the shitty college town park you had stumbled into. 

If this had been a normal outing the roles would have reversed and it would have been you holding her own hair back with a sober attitude she wouldn’t be able to recognize, too wasted to know that you were fuming, but for once in your terribly long friendship it had been you that took far too many shots. This time it had been you that had to be dragged away from some random guy with a wedding ring tan. 

Tan…..oh Tan.

Just at the memory of the nickname you feel the need to vomit again, tears stinging your eyes as your best friend giggles behind you, obviously not concerned for the mental breakdown you were currently having. 

“Do you think he has a new girlfriend?” You slur out, knees wobbly as she helps you up, leaning down to snatch the weapons off your feet so you can walk across the grass with her. She leads you to a public hose, or at least she hopes it’s public as she turns it on. 

“Definitely babe.”

“I don’t get it! This never happens to me!” By this you mean being left behind. 

It was no secret amongst your friend group that you were a flight risk when it came to relationships, always leaving before you got attached but just late enough that your significant other had already said the three words. You had never said the three words back….ever…..well until him.

“Just forget him babe,” She sighs out, grabbing your hands gently. “You keep waiting for him to call, and it’s been three weeks. He’s not calling back.”

“But I told him I loved him.” You hiccup, flinching as the cold hits your hands. 

She doesn’t respond and in your drunken stupor you can’t help but feel like a massive burden, so you shake your head with tears and whine out “I’ll stop talking about him, I swear.”

“It hurts right now, I know that. But soon enough you are gonna wash your hands clean of the whole thing.” She smiles, and you think about that for a moment before nodding and scrubbing your own hands under the water. 

From tonight on you won’t get Tangerine the satisfaction. 

You are washing yourself clean of him entirely.

But little did you know the entire time you were washing your hands you were humming yours and tans song, the whole reason you began to have the mental breakdown at the bar in the first place. Your best friend doesn’t point it out, she owes you that much. 

How many times had you wiped her mascara and bought her ice cream after being dumped? This was an easy act to return.

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

You were proud to say that you weren’t the one that brought him up during the weekly sunday brunch three days later, only to be immediately shamed by the way you head snapped at attention when your friend said his name. 

“Any news?”

Your best friend shakes her head from beside you, pouring more bottomless mimosas for you as you try to muster up an answer, really just anything to explain what had happened there but the truth was you had no clue yourself. 

“No, and honestly I have been running through all our last conversations to figure out what went wrong, was I too clingy? Did I scare him off?” You explain, watching all the girls lean forward in their seats. “And it’s so weird because I said I love you and he said it back. I don’t know-”

“I think you just panicked because of our teasing.” You best friend lies, batting her eyelashes at you. 

“Yeah! Girl I don’t think you really loved him, you were probably just in overdrive to prove us wrong. You are so lucky he left when he did.”

“He probably has a wife.”

“With kids.”

“That live in a nice suburban home-” You rush away from the table, sick of all the images they were giving you. They were obviously looking for reasons for you to feel better but none of it was helping because you knew you loved him.

He had been your first l word. 

And it had been wasted. 

I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost

Rip the Band-Aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw

Freedom felt like summer then on the coast

Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

And I never don't cry (no, I never don't cry) at the bar

Yeah, my sadness is contagious (my sadness is contagious)

I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car

I stopped receiving invitations

A year ago you had been covered in a sweet scented sun balm, topless at the beach and tanning under the nice heat of the day as whatever lover you had at the time ran to get you both something to drink. You were holding your sunglasses in one hand and a book in the other, facedown on the poolside chair when two feet emerged in your vision. Two feet that you had not recognized. 

You had picked your head up slowly, blinking to clear the sunspots in your vision as the stranger came into view, brown hair tousled and gold chain glinting in the light. There was a pinkish tint to his shoulders and chest, and he smirks as you trace your eyes over his figure. 

“Can I help you?” You keep your voice sultry, eyelashes batting up at him as a slow smile spreads across his face. 

“I was hoping you’d be so lovely and share some of that sunblock with me,” His accent is thick as he squats down to be at the same level as you, eyes filled with something close to adoration that has your heart spiraling. “As you can see love, I’m burnin away here.”

“I do apologize for that, the sun can be quite the enemy…” You smile, reaching down to grab it, moving to hand it to him. His eyebrows shoot up and he feigns a look of shock for a moment before one of fake hurt.

“You can’t expect me to do it, lovey. You see I can’t reach my own fucking back…”

“How dare I!” You gasp, playing along and trying not to laugh. 

“Yeah, how fucking dare ya.” His toothy grin pulls a matching smile from you and he turns slowly to let you rub the balm onto his back, and you cast nervous glances around for the date that had brought you to the resort. 

“Don’t worry about him right now, yeah love? Your Kenny doll won’t mind us having some fun.” If you knew his secrets you’d have known that Tangerine had handled the man in the restroom, scaring him off so he could make a move. But you would never be allowed to see any of that. 

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

“What was that fucks name again?” Tan laughed, reaching to pinch your ass as you pass him to grab the popcorn for your movie night. 

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Mmmhmm, my lil’ fucking heartbreaker.” He grunts out, pressing his body against yours and kissing at your neck drawing a giggle from you. 

“We’re never gonna watch the movie if you can’t control yourself, and you were the one that begged for this movie night rather than a night-”

“I know I know.” He sighs, allowing himself one more kiss before moving to the living room to set up. It takes you a couple more minutes to grab the tray of snacks, and when you finally shuffle out to the living room you find a huge fort made out of pillows and blankets with your boyfriend nowhere in sight.

“Tan?” You call, setting the tray down and leaning to check in the fort for him only to find it empty. The lights of the tv are your only source of light so you don’t see the figure behind you until it’s too late and he snatches you by the waist and spins you around in the air. 

A laugh pulls from you as he yells out a battle cry and throws you both into the fort where all the pillows were laid out. 

After a couple minutes of laughter you catch your breath and play with his hair as he leans over your outstretched body, his own pressed against yours and his fingers trailing love touches up your side as he stares at you. 

“I love you, you know that?” You blurt, watching a smile crack across his face. 

“I love you too.”

You ended up never watching the movie, choosing to stay in the fort and admire each others bodies in a way you had never done before, panting and moaning under the faint blue light the tv sent through the sheets of the fort. 

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

Except you woke up alone in the fort, covered in blankets that you did not remember grabbing, and the tv had been turned off. 

He must have been late for work and you simply overslept, it was a rational answer you gave yourself because normally Tan would wake you up before he left. Or maybe there had been an emergency with his baby brother. 

There were many reasons he could be gone so you simply sent him a good morning text and moved on with your day, telling yourself you would take the fort down later. 

But then the goodmorning text turned into a question about dinner that had gone unanswered, and late at night you sat at the dining table with pizza shoved in your face as you anxiously messaged him asking if he was okay. 

You imagined all the men that you had used for trips and money laughing at you right now, a heavy sense of irony and then you shook your head and reminded yourself that it’s only been a day, this wasn’t a ghosting situation…..

Except it had been, and by the second week you had sent him so many messages that you were sure he finally blocked you when the messages started ready ‘not delivered’. 

An embarrassed sob had clawed up your throat at that, furiously wiping your eyes and chugging the glass of wine you had poured before moving to pick up the fort. 

If anyone had been confused by the sobbing girl in the laundry room of the apartments at 2 am they never said it and you were slightly thankful for that as you washed the sheets from the fort. 

It was time to move on, you were better than this.

You ghosted people, not the other way around. 

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

You hadn’t realized that getting dumped was this hard to get over though. Sure you had cheered your friends up from it but you had never felt it yourself, this was a different world to you. You cried when you threw the photos away, and you cried when you packed up anything he left in a box to donate to goodwill. 

He plagued your every waking thought, the image of his eyes and the sound of his voice filling your thoughts whenever you allowed yourself to relax so you spent most your time cleaning or working to distract yourself. 

A little over a year with him, and this is what it came to? 

Your best friend tried convincing you to be angry which led to you puking in a clubbing dress in the middle of a park. And the girls brunch had left you just a little more miserable when the conversation had turned to the engagement party of one of your close friends, and by the time you crawled home you ended up in a ball on the carpet of the living room floor, closing your eyes for a quick nap to shut the world out for a bit. 

You didn’t need him, fuck you had traveled the world before him, you could just go back to that. 

I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway

Is that your key in the door?

Is it okay? Is it you?

Or have they come to take me away?

To take me away

Going back to dating after a year of a relationship had been rocky, and your first date back had led to you cheering up your date as he talked about his own ex, and by the time you packed him into an uber that night you felt a bit better about yourself. You weren’t over your ex, but so what? No one else was either?

And any anxiety you had about dating had gone out the window at that, because you had realized you had the perfect weapon in your hands. 

So you cracked out your best and sexiest dresses and by week 12 of no contact with Tan you began spending your nights putting on the performance of your life.

You would sniffle, and you would bat your eyelashes as you talked about how heartbroken you were, the men would be hooked at the sad doe eyes and you would spend the meal talking about how nice and kind they were, then when the check came you would put the nail in the coffin with the tiny tears on how they were so much better than your ex. 

But they weren’t, they were free meals and free wine that you enjoyed toying with. Because no one had ever pulled your heartstrings the way Tan had, and no one had been able to break your heart the way he had. You were sure you would never give anyone else the chance. 

So you followed your own routine after that, when the man of the night would lead you to the sidewalk and call an uber thinking he was about to get laid, you would start crying and then crying would turn to blubbering as you talked about how amazing they were. 

Nothing scared a guy off faster than clinginess, this you knew well. 

They are always scared off at the blubbering mess of sobs, putting you in an uber and paying for your ride home, desperate for you to stop crying. 

There had been one uber driver that had picked you up 3 times, and always laughed when you stopped crying the second the poor fool was out of sight. You shared your gum with her and she promised to mention you in a novel she was writing, you told her to make you iconic. 

And then you would be dropped off, where you would sit, slightly tipsy, in your very lonely apartment. 

Some nights you would trick yourself into thinking you heard Tans key in the door…. You never did and the pitch of excitement you got always ended in a pained feeling so you began to listen to headphones rather than silence. 

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different (it hits different)

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (it hits different)

It hits different 'cause it's you

Your date tonight had chosen a really good restaurant tonight, and not only that he had actually been pretty funny. So when you left the restaurant stuffed and laughing you nearly forgot your performance, but he seemed like he didn’t expect anything as he kissed your cheek to call you a ride, telling him to call you when you crawled in before shutting the door softly and you felt a small smile spread across your face. 

“That one seemed sweet.” Niama comments, watching you through the rearview mirror of the uber. You smile even more and pull out the dessert you ordered. 

“I got this for ya.” You hand it to her and she laughs. 

“And if it hadn’t been me?”

“I would have gone home and eaten it myself. It was a win win idea.”

When she drops you off that night she gives you her number and tells you that she demands an amazing interview for her book, and as you walk up the steps to your apartment you are left with a giddy feeling from a good night. 

Maybe that’s why you didn’t notice it at first. Too busy laughing to yourself to notice the familiar smell of mint on the doorstep, or the fact that your door was unlocked. 

But the second you enter it’s clear something is off.

The lights are on, and you know for a fact that you had turned them off before you left. The kitchen was cleaner then you left it and the smell of mint filled your lungs. 

Everything was right and yet it was so so wrong. 

You find yourself frozen in the doorway, one hand clenching the doorknob as the other tightens into a fist at the center of your jacket, doing your best to wake yourself up from whatever dream this was. 

“Y/n?” He calls, the same familiar accent that had talked you to sleep nearly every night for a year. And then he is there, limping harshly as he comes around the corner. 

His entire face is covered in blisters and bruises, a cast on his left arm.

He watches you in the doorway, and you blink back at him struggling to find something to say….anything, a single word would be fine. 

“H…..Hey lovey.”

Oh, my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

'Cause it's you

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (yeah)

Hits different 'cause it's you

His normal cockiness was gone, and you can see the fear in his eyes in an instant, as he looks you up and down. 

“You……look stunning.”

“You look like hell.”

He nods, taking his unbroken hand up to wipe his tears before he clears his throat and stands straighter. “I think it’s time to explain.”

You nod, moving to shut the door and you stand there just a second more before flinging across the room where he stood, careful of his injuries when you pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

He groans in pain and you pull yourself back quickly but his unbroken hand is fisted in the back of your coat to keep you close as he catches his breath. 

“Sorry love,” He grunts, pressing his forehead to yours. “I got shot.”

“IthoughtIscaredyouawayand- I’m sorry…. You got shot?” A small smile spreads across his face as he watches you. 

“You think you scared me away by sayin’ I love ya?” He chuckles, his hand sliding up your side until it’s woven in your hair. “Cause I’m worried about what I’m about to tell ya will scare you off.”

Don't forget to request a character and a song from the album Sour by Olivia Rodrigo for the next event!

And check out the midnights masterlist at the top of this post for more taylor swift fun!

[javierpinme]

Part One: New Beginnings

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Infidelity, angst, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol

Rating: M (might change)

Summary:  You’ve lived in a small town for half of your life and nothings really changed until it did. Moving halfway across the country you find lasting friendships and a love you needed at the exactly the right time.

A/N: There is not a ton of Frankie in this one since I wanted to set the tone for the reader before they meet! They don’t see/meet each other until near the end (or do they?) I wanted to build the reader’s relationships with the people in her life as there will more parts.

AO3

Masterlist

Want to be on my taglist?

It’s hard to build friendships as an adult without being under the pretense of school or college. It’s especially difficult when you decide to move across the country. Away from your family and friends, but it’s what you needed. Seeing the same four walls you lived in, that same greasy diner that was always your go-to after one too many tequila shots the night before, and that one ex from high school that you’d really rather forget while running errands were making you feel complacent. Wake up. Drink. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. You’ve spent most of your life here. You weren’t about to spend the rest of it here. So, you did something completely unlike you. You packed up your life and moved. The house was beautiful. You’d never owned anything in your life; just rented so this is a major upgrade for you. The first sight that greets you is the stairs after living in a first floor unit for most of your life. The house isn’t in perfect shape, but it’s yours which is all that matters.

The movers have left so you finally had the place to yourself. You couldn’t help the defeated sigh that fell from your mouth at the sight of all the boxes. If your sister and friends were here you’d probably be knee deep in pizza and wine while attempting to build furniture. You gave your brain the space to let that thought sink in, but you craved the freedom so you didn’t let that sit too long. You came here to build your own memories; no room for regrets now. So, the first thing you decide to acclimate yourself with is the closest liquor store and that is how you met Hannah.

The first thing you hear after getting lost reading a wine label is a loud oof before slamming into somebody. You only barely managed to catch the bottle before it became one with the outdated tile.

“I am SO sorry! I’m not even going to lie to you I was not watching where I was going. Are you okay? You didn’t drop anything did you?”

You manage to form a sentence between your scrambled apologies in between. The first thing you notice when you look at the face standing in front of you is how pretty she is. That typical blonde hair and blue eyes type that reminds you of the girls you went to high school with. You wince. Stop it.

“Oh, I’m okay! It was more the residual shock of it really. You must really need that bottle because you were just about ready to run me over in your pursuit to the cash register. Cheating ex or bad date?”

She says with a laugh while pointing at the wine still in your hand. Oh, she’s nice. You immediately feel guilty for that initial judgment when first looking at her.

“Oh, neither. I just moved here and need sustenance to unpack. Who knew you could fit your entire life into boxes?” You mirror her laugh.

“I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. Walk around the neighborhood and find the necessities which is how I ended up here.” You say with a twirl in your finger.

"Ah, the one down the street that's just begging to be demolished?" She says while snapping her fingers with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She's old, but she's got character." You can't help the lopsided grin you give her. She hasn't even seen the dream kitchen with those beautiful green cabinets.

“Hey, well if you need help with that-“ her eyes shifting to the bottle, “I live right down the street so I can come over. I know moving somewhere unfamiliar can be a little daunting especially if you’re alone.” You can’t help the wide smile forming at her sweet gesture.

“And to help me unpack right?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean I’m better at draining a bottle, but if it’s necessary I will work for food and drinks. But, if I’m going to help you we are going to need way more than that.”

She finishes her sentence grabbing more bottles while traveling through the aisles. The sound of you’ve got to try this one and this one’s local in between aisle changes filling the store. You assure her that she is not off the hook with helping even with the promise of the “best merlot you’ve ever had in your life.”

Bags filling both of your hands and way too much alcohol for just two people to consume you make your way up the steps. Hannah pauses and looks up at the house.

“I was right. It should have been demolished. Will the porch cave in before I make it inside?” She says with skepticism at the foundation of your new home.

“Probably eventually but-“ you turn around to face her, “she’ll last for now. Come on, I haven’t even showed you the best part!”

You open your door and make your way inside leaving the door open for her to follow. You faintly hear from the kitchen “I seriously doubt that”, and you can’t help your chuckle at the remark.

You’ve always wanted a fixer upper; probably from all the HGTV shows you immersed yourself in as a child and the fact you’ve only ever lived in apartments. The first and only thing you managed to unpack first was your wine glasses. You definitely made a point to label them in big writing while packing up back home. A decision you are patting yourself on the back for now.

“So, do you like pizza? I know a good place. Pizza and wine should always be paired with move-in days. Oh, you’re right. This is probably the only good part of your house.”

Hannah leaned on the counter next you before shifting to test the weight taking in the scene of your kitchen.

“Love pizza. It’s not there yet, but I definitely have some plans with it; starting with keeping the color of those cabinets.”

In between sips of your glasses of wine you start to collaborate over your ideas of making it functional and aesthetically pleasing.

It didn’t take very long to start building friendships with the people in your area. You even started joining Sunday brunches and you were overly ecstatic finding out that bottomless mimosas existed. They didn’t have these at the diners back home. They even started assisting you with choosing paint swatches and going to Home Depot because you just had try that DIY project of making your own lounge chair that you found scrolling on Youtube.

“I think your measurements are a little off.”

Alex, probably one of your favorites of the group, mirrors the tilt of your head with his arms crossed. He co-owns a woodworking business with his husband so you wanted him there for any adjustments and moral support. Unfortunately for you, he wanted you to learn first which really meant fail.

You grimace at your handiwork and say, “yeah, I think maybe I should stick with what I’m good at.”

With a breathy laugh he adds, “give yourself some credit. You managed to tear up the carpet in the living room AND still able to keep the original hardwood. That’s no easy feat.”

You’ve somehow managed to create a whole support system in the little time that you’ve spent here. You’ve finally had the time and resources to create your own little touches that make your house now a home.

“Hannah, can’t we just stay in tonight? I’ve already been defeated twice by the light fixture in the living and my fingers are still tingling from the faulty power box. I’m really not in the mood.”

You give her the biggest puppy eyes you can manage while exaggeratingly lifting you fingers.

“Oh no, you’re going out to the bar tonight. You’ve been here for months and you really need to get yourself out there. You’re hot. Own it. Besides, it’s just you and me so there’s no pressure.”

She says with a swat to your ass and a push towards your closet. The only response you can add to that is Hmph.

The bar is nice enough with the dim lighting and it’s not so loud that you can’t hear yourself talk. Hannah insisted you wear one of your nicer dresses, but you wanted to feel like yourself so you opted for a t-shirt tucked into light wash jeans. If you were going to meet anyone tonight you wanted to set the standard for anything that could happen at the start. You’re still nursing your second beer while Hannah is on her third shot of the night. You feel a presence to your right and a sharp pinch to your thigh on your left. Hannah is of course attempting to alert you to the attractive man on the other side of you as if you didn’t notice. You turn around with a pained look on your face to her which she just shrugs off before making herself scarce.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Your attention is brought back to the man to your right. He is very cute in a boyish kind of way and you briefly wonder if he’s talking to someone else. He’s dressed like he just got out of a business meeting, but his rolled sleeves are definitely doing something for you.

“Sure. What’s your name?” You say with the flirtiest smile you can muster.

“Joey. Nice to meet you.”

God, his smile must do wonders for his conquests. It’s working for you quite honestly. You completely lose track of time talking to him and see out of the corner of your eye Hannah leaving the bar holding onto a man with salt and pepper hair and scruff. Looks like she got lucky too. She gives you a wink as she walks out the door and you look to see where he was sitting in case you need to remember faces. Seems like he was out with some of his friends, but you didn’t get a thorough look because your attention is immediately brought back to Joey. You set a reminder for yourself to check in with her before you go to bed tonight.

It’s been a constant date after date and you were really beginning to develop feelings for him. Sure, you always tried to convince him you didn’t need to be wooed with all these extravagant dates. You were just happy to spend time with him. You didn’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to tell you that. It just wasn’t your style, but it made him happy so you went along with it. You had initially assumed him to be a one night stand, but you were pleasantly surprised to hear from him the next day asking to take you out dinner.

Your muscles in your stomach are straining from how hard you’re laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos on the TV. Joey is sitting next to you on the couch with takeout cartons loitered all over your coffee table. The living room is starting to lose its natural lighting due to the day coming to a close; the only light source in the room being the lamp sitting on the end table next to the couch and the glow from the TV. You notice Joey looking at you with a far off look.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a furrow in your brow. “Nothing.” His face shifting to a more pleasant tone once he turns back to the TV. The two of you had settled into a routine at your house. You had even introduced him to your friends and they really seemed to enjoy spending time with him. It was easy for them to fall for his charms as you did.

“Come on, hurry up. You’re supposed to be helping me pick out an outfit for tonight!”

Hannah still continued to see the man from the bar, Santi, his friends called him.

“If I’m supposed to be helping you pick an outfit then why are we in the lingerie section?” You ask with a sly grin on your face.

“That’s for after, of course. Gotta keep it interesting.”

Her laugh followed by her adding some bras and panties to her hands. You agreed to come with her tonight to officially meet him and his friends. You’ve heard enough about him from her. Some very intimate details as well. They weren’t exactly exclusive to each other and as far as you knew they were dating other people which you respected. You were nervous about meeting them, but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hannah would want to do this. You trusted her judgment and you were already comfortable that it was going to be in the bar you usually ventured out to.

In her words, “your only forms of entertainment can’t just be your home projects, Joey and me, you know? You deserve to have fun too and these guys will show you a good time I promise” while ringing up her purchases.

You barely manage to make it through the door of the bar before you feel a breeze next to you from her speeding to Santi with a kiss. You lovingly shake your head at her dramatic antics and make your way over to the table. It’s a little awkward at first since Hannah still had yet to let go of the man sitting next to her and you didn’t know how to start a conversation with these men with what was going on next to you.

“Sorry. I’m Santi, but everyone calls me Pope.”

He reaches over to shake your hand with a tone that is definitely not apologetic at all, but you find it amusing. You like him already. You can definitely see why Hannah was interested, but not your type.

He starts introducing his friends off to you. Will. He seems like the more mellow type of the group and his call sign is Ironhead. Benny is just Benny since he’s the baby of the group.

“He’s the menace of all of us so watch out for this one.” Will ruffles his brother’s hair for added measure which Benny recoils from.

Then, Frankie, they call him Catfish. Oh he’s handsome, but not in the boyish way that Joey is. He’s handsome in a more ruggish kind of way and you can’t seem to break eye contact from him. Your eyes don’t know where to go first so they travel from his deep brown eyes, to the bare patches on the beard he can’t seem to grow that you find yourself wanting to kiss, and to the curls peeking out of his standard heating oil hat. You find yourself itching to take that hat off and run your fingers through the nape of his hair.  Stop. He’s the more reserved one in the group which makes sense since he really hasn’t fully spoken more than a few words at a time to you. You can’t control the side glances you keep shooting at him throughout the night. You’re just appreciating the view and maybe conjuring up a few very much domestic fantasies in your head. Liar.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to get a grip on your emotions. Tilting your head at your reflection you point an accusing finger “get yourself together. You ca—.“  You jump at the intrusion of an elderly woman walking into the otherwise empty bathroom; a quizzical look forming on her face from your actions. Your nervous laugh gets the best of you. “It isn’t what it- I don’t always do this.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to explain yourself since she’s already closed the stall before you even got the chance to finish your sentence. You find yourself even more flustered leaving the bathroom than before going into it. This is going to be a long night.

***

Frankie was nervous when Santi first told him that Hannah would be bringing a friend. He remembers you from the night Santi first left with her. How could he forget? You had his attention the moment you stepped into the bar, but by the time he finally worked up the nerve to talk to you another guy had already swooped in. It wasn’t that surprising considering and it was probably for the best. He really wasn’t in any headspace to be in a relationship. His eyes followed you when you left to go to the bathroom in a hurry and he could just feel Santi’s eyes burning into him. He knew. You were exactly his type and he hoped to whoever was up above that he would just leave him to his hopeless crush without interfering.

***

You sit down at the table preparing to come up with some segway into the conversation between everyone when Santi breaks it with a loud clap calling your name out. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

You miss the glare that Frankie shoots him and the embarrassed groan he makes. You don’t miss the warning tone Will gives when calling Santi’s name out, but you get the feeling you’re not entitled to know what that’s about.

“Yes, I am.” Why does it feel so wrong to say that? “His name is Joey.” Hannah chimes in while rubbing Santi’s shoulders.

You also miss the sight of Frankie’s shoulders deflating at that piece of information. Your answer seems to satisfy Santi since he drops it after that and moves on to a different topic. “Benny, when’s your next fight?” It’s Friday apparently and all the guys along with Hannah are going to support him.

Will shifts towards you and says, “you can come if you want.” You cringe on the inside; your insecurities getting the best of you. If you want. They’re only inviting you because you’re there at the moment. “Maybe.” You won’t.

Somehow, Hannah has convinced you to go out with them a second time. “Come on, you can bring Joey since you’re so nervous! Please bring him,” she says with pleading eyes.

“I’m not nervous!” Liar. There is a sliver of truth to her statement, but you don’t want to tell her the reason for your nerves is seeing Frankie again. Yet here you were sitting in a booth with Joey across from Hannah and the rest of the guys.

“Jesus Hannah, he’s not going anywhere.”

You say with a loud laugh at her not so subtle PDA with Santi. “Sorry.” She said with a swipe of trying to remove her lipstick from Santi’s face; her smile never leaving her face. Frankie hasn’t looked at you at all tonight and you can’t help but wonder what you did wrong. You see those eyes crinkle and that cute dimple when he’s dedicating his attention to everyone else at the table, but disappears when his eyes go in your general direction.

At some point the guys and Hannah walk off to buy more drinks leaving you with Joey. He’s hasn’t hid his disinterest of the night at all even when the guys were trying to include him.

“Why are you so grumpy?” “I’m not.” His deep sigh a dead giveaway to his sour mood. “I’m just not vibing with them that’s all.” His eyes following the guys by single file line as he said it. You assure him that you can leave soon which after an hour or so you do.

Tonight’s events must have tired you out more than you thought because you’re fighting yawns the entire ride to Joey’s apartment. You don’t usually spend time here since he prefers staying at your place, but his place was a lot closer to the bar. The minute you walk inside you walk straight to his bedroom so you can promptly pass out as Joey showers. As you start to pull back the blankets something catches your eye. That’s not mine. Your heart rate is starting to speed up at the thought that’s forming in your mind. You reach down and grab a bra that was haphazardly thrown on the floor. The thing is you’d recognize that bra anywhere because you were there when she bought it; the day you were meeting Santi for the first time. You almost didn’t hear the water being shut off in the bathroom and the footsteps coming into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’s goin o—“

His eyes follow where you’re looking and then back up to your face. He’s not even trying to defend himself or come up with some shitty excuse that wouldn’t work anyway.

“How long?” Your voice is barely managing to stay steady while still staring at the incriminating evidence of your betrayal.

“How long, Joey?” His hesitation gives you your answer. It’s been a while.

[wakeupflawless]

42, 45

Why does everyone want to know about my favorite hot people?! And bad dates?! Oh well here's more.

42. Describe the hottest person you know.

Answered here and here.

*DJ Khalid voice* another one.

My last 2 have been girls because I find most men repulsive but my boyfriend is v cute :) He's 6 ft, dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin. Tattoo on his chest, always helps out his mama, pays for our dates (the feminism leaves my body) and does manly things to my car.

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

I guess I'll stick to my boyfriend theme. We had just started dating and we went out to brunch on a Sunday and had 2 pitchers of mimosas between us. Then we went to this one bar that was doing more bottomless mimosas if you paid like $40 at the door. By the time we got there they were out of champagne and offered us bottomless jack and cokes instead. I ended up throwing up all over my kitchen sink when we got home and crying. We're still together tho so maybe it wasn't so bad.

[aaurenials]

y/n and jake are clueless

summary; jake and y/n are hopeless idiots

warnings; none

notes; just a lil somethin to get me back in the groove

If you were to tell y/n she was friends with an A-list actress, she wouldn’t believe you. At least that was before she actually became friends with an A-list actress. All y/n could remember was that she was teaching an art class one day and suddenly, in walks Maggie Gyllenhaal. The two hit it off almost immediately, and it was there that y/n met Maggie’s brother, Jake. Maggie had invited her over for dinner one night, failing to mention that her brother would be joining in attendance. Y/n would never forget how terribly she clammed up and how shaky her hand was when shaking his--after all, she had had a slight crush on the actor since his Donnie Darko days. Despite the slightly awkward introduction, the dinner went smoothly, and even ended with Jake asking for her number by the end. From then on out, the duo seemed to be inseparable. They had weekly movie nights every Friday and would always get brunch on Sunday with bottomless mimosas--per y/n’s request. Jake would show up to her art classes at the community college with her favorite coffee or tea and in exchange, she’d help him run lines. They were the best of friends--until they weren’t.

It was a stupid dare really, not even. It was New Year’s and they were both drunk and single at that point, surrounded by couples. The countdown was about to start and he was the one who brought it up even. A simple kiss shared between a pair of best friends. It wasn’t like it meant anything, right? It was the alcohol mixed with the loneliness--yeah, that’s it.

Between the two of them, they’d had countless partners. None of which seemed to work out. It was always some sort of lame excuse, too. From the way they styled their hair to the way they ate--it was always something. Once y/n even claimed that she didn’t like the way one of her boyfriends chewed. y/n wasn’t sure when they shift happened exactly, but it definitely happened. One minute she’s just hanging out with Jake in her sweats, not caring at all, and the next she suddenly wanted to impress him. Or she would be shopping and would pick something out that she knew he would like. It was the little things like this that made her second guess her true relationship with the man. But each time she thought these thoughts, about how it would feel to kiss him or hold his hand, she quickly shook them away. It was stupid anyway, they were only friends, nothing more and nothing less.

It wasn’t until Jake started bringing around a pretty blonde that y/n really felt threatened. The girl was nice enough or seemed to be to y/n at least, she was never around her very much. What she did notice was how the more the girl came around, the less she saw of Jake. This wasn’t a terribly huge deal unless you take into account that they went from seeing each other nearly every day to not at all. It didn’t necessarily bother y/n at first, she didn’t really mind and she understood. But the days turned into weeks and suddenly she’d gone nearly two months without seeing her friend. And it seemed his older sister knew what she was going through.

“Seriously, what’s gotten into you lately?” Maggie asked one day as the two hung out in y/n’s apartment. 

She took a deep breath, “You know it’s been two months almost since I talked to your brother? Like I get it, it’s a new relationship and he wants to spend time with her, but two months? I didn’t drop off the face of the planet!”

“You know, I never liked that girl he’s with. She’s very controlling I feel. Even I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks and we used to talk all the time. But are you sure there isn’t something deeper bothering you?”

“Like?”

Maggie rolled her eyes, “Like your hidden feelings for my brother.”

“I--What?” y/n gaped. “No, absolutely not, there are no feelings between us.”

“Bullshit, I saw you guys on New Years’. You want to bone my brother and I fully support it.”

“Maggie!” she scoffed. “It’s not like he even would reciprocate it anyway.”

Maggie grinned, “So you do admit you have feelings for him! You do know he feels the same for you too, right?”

“No he doesn’t, he wouldn’t be with her if he was.”

“He’s only with her because he thinks you’re not into him.”

Y/n left that day feeling like a weight had been lifted off her chest. She finally came clean, and it was the best feeling in the world to her. While she doubted he felt the same as Maggie had said, it still was nice to tell someone other than her plants or cat. 

Weeks went by and Jake was still radio silent. Y/n had gone on a few dates here and there, but she knew deep down it wouldn’t last, and why get their hopes up. It was a Friday night after another failed date. She had come home, kicked her feet up, and turned on the TV. A knock on the door broke her trance. She stood from the couch, still in her clothes from the date, and opened the door to reveal a slightly drunken Jake.

“Jake? What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I just had to see you, I missed you,” he replied, letting himself in.

“Well, who’s fault is that,” y/n grumbled.

“My girlfriend’s--sorry, ex.”

Y/n furrowed her brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Jake sighed, flopping down on the couch. “I mean, she felt threatened by you and wanted me to stop hanging out with you so I did and I don’t know why. I broke up with her tonight and came straight here--and you’re in a dress which means you went on a date. That’s the dress you always wear on the first date. And I’m too late again.”

“Jake, what are you talking about?” Y/n sat down next to him, a puzzled look on her face.

“God, I’m so in love with you and you don’t even know it.”

She was frozen in place at his confession. Part of her believed him, but the other part of her couldn’t possibly believe that he of all people could be in love with her. 

“Do you mean it?” she whispered.

“Of course I mean it,” he mumbled, gripping her hand tight. “Never been more genuine in my life.”

Y/n took a chance and pressed her lips to his. Jake froze for a split second, then seemed to melt against her as he kissed her back. His hands gripped her hips, tugging her to sit on top of him. Y/n was the first to pull away breathless with Jake chasing after her lips, desperate to feel as alive as he had when he was kissing her. 

“Does that mean you love me back?” he grinned teasingly.

She laughed, “Yeah, I guess it does. Now go back to kissing me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled, kissing her hard.

[shippingtheswann]

Incidents

Here is my second attempt at a One Shot! Hope you enjoy!

----------

There were only three times in Emma’s entire life that she got really drunk. The first time, she was a senior in high school and thought that it was the cool thing to do. It was one of the first parties of the year and she had never been invited to one before. She drank a bit too much and ended up wandering the host’s giant farm, alone with no shoes. Mary Margaret found her and saved Emma from walking into to cow pasture. She developed a lifelong friendship with her that night – and how could you not after someone saves you from walking into cow poop?

The second time was after Henry was born, almost two years after the cow poo incident, as her best friend so lovingly called it. David had offered to watch the newborn, so that Emma could have some girl time and recharge. So, Mary Margaret treated them to a day at the spa, bottomless mimosas included. She hadn’t planned on getting drunk. Yet, after two glasses, Emma passed out during her facial and woke up as she was being put to bed by David. Pregnancy really does change your tolerance to alcohol.

Since that adventure, Emma had promised herself she would never let herself drink in excess again. Sure, nothing embarrassing ever happened, no one took advantage of her, and she gained an amazing group of friends because of that first time; but she didn’t enjoy having to rely on people. She would rather just have one beer with friends, then spend the rest of the night laughing at other people’s antics than forgetting her own.

So, she hadn’t planned on having more than one glass of rum with the group when they went out. Yet something stirred in her, making her order just one more glass, then another. It was the third time she ever let alcohol get the best of her.

It was girl’s night. A monthly tradition that started not long after Emma’s Facial Incident – as Mary Margaret called it, even though Emma begged her to come up with a less sexual name. It had started as just the two of them, but as they grew up, graduating college, getting jobs, making new friends – the group grew.

First, Belle came along. She was the librarian at the library around the corner from Emma’s home. Henry had taken an immediate liking to her, and so did Emma. Then, came Ruby, Emma’s office mate. Ruby was eccentric and looked nothing like the clean-cut Belle and Mary Margaret– but she loved them, and they loved her. Soon, Ruby’s girlfriend, Dorothy came along. Dorothy always came with fresh pastries, from her grandmother’s bakery, so there was no question that if Ruby and Dorothy ever split up, that Dorothy could never leave the group.

As Emma’s group of girlfriends grew, so did her extended circle. David was the first addition. He met Mary Margaret their first year in college, and the two were inseparable. They got married at the end of Freshman year, wanting David’s ailing mother to witness the wedding. Belle brought her boyfriend Liam, whom she met studying abroad in Ireland. And along with Liam came his younger brother, Killian.

Killian Jones was the best addition to their group, according to Emma’s most private and inner thoughts.

Henry had just turned 4 when they all met. Emma’s world was finally beginning to slow down and be what she wanted it to be. She was so thankful for all the help she had gotten when she found out she was pregnant and through everything that had happened since; but she was finally starting to be the mother and person she wanted to be without anyone’s help. She had just gotten her dream job which also offered to pay for her graduate degree. She had found an amazing apartment that had space for Henry to grow.

So, when Killian walked into the bar that night, it was like the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

For the past four years, Emma flirted and flirted, yet nothing came of it. It seemed to be that Killian was completely immune to her feminine wiles.

Even though love didn’t bloom, she did gain a new best friend.

They had a lot in common. Both were tainted by childhood trauma, but rebounded in their late teens, thanks to friends and family circumstances changing. They both loved sports and preferred to spend a Sunday watching football over hiking around the city in search of the best brunch – which Mary Margaret always tried to drag them too. Killian had a love of sailing and adventure books, which influenced Henry much to Emma’s chagrin. Killian complemented her nicely. He was the perfect addition to her little family.

But there was still no romantic love there and it was pissing her off. They were perfect together – so why couldn’t he just see that?

Emma had never really had a conversation about it with him. While she had grown since she was a child, she still had walls. She kept things from her friends. She knew it was stupid – but she didn’t want to burden anyone or worse, lose someone because of what she was feeling. There were enough Rom-Com movies on her “watch again” list on Netflix to tell her that if she just talked to Killian, that maybe there could be something there. But she kept the walls up – but the Girl’s Night was about to bring the walls crumbling down.

Again, she hadn’t been planning on drinking more than one glass of rum. However, she motioned for the bartender when Belle began to talk wedding details. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited for her friend – she was – they had been on the marriage path for a while but listening to Belle talk about finally getting her happily ever after bummed her out. She didn’t have that same feeling when Mary Margaret and David got married, but she also didn’t have Killian in her life then.

Seeing Belle marry a Jones brother was going to be torture, especially since Belle’s announcement that Emma was going to serve as Maid of Honor, opposite to Killian’s Best Man.

One more glass soon became two, which was quickly followed by three and four.

Thankfully, Emma’s tolerance for alcohol had built back up since her day at the spa. She felt warm and happy. Her checks were flushed and her fingers tingly. Everything was funny or cute and she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. It didn’t help that Mary Margaret kept gushing about something romantic and sweet that David did the other day, just because he loved her.

Emma wanted that love. She had spent enough time hiding in the shadows because of stupid walls that didn’t really help her anyways. There was something between Emma and Killian, she knew it deep in her bones.

She swiveled on the bar stool, almost falling off in her hurry.

“Where are you going?” Dorothy said, grabbing Emma by the elbow, steadying her.

“I’m heading home, I’m tired and want to lay down,” she lied.

Dorothy eyed her carefully. After what felt like eternity, her friend nodded.

“OK, do you need a ride or someone to walk with?” she asked, turning around towards Ruby, the night’s designated driver.

“No, I’m just going to catch an Uber. I’ll text everyone when I get home.”

Emma leaned forward, trying to not lose her balance, and gave Dorothy a half hug.

She waived to the rest of the group and pulled up her Uber App and requested her ride. The app showed her that she didn’t even half to wait, there was a car parked right outside. She swung on her signature red leather jacket and opened the door of the Prius, almost losing her balance again.

“Where to?”

“Storybrooke Apartments please,” she requested, leaning back against the seat.

Her eyes closed and sighed, it felt good to lean back and just relax. As the driver moved them along the streets, Emma’s thoughts drifted back to Killian. Everything felt right about him. He was a good man, kind and caring. He loved Henry as if he was his own. Emma never had to worry about anything when Killian was around. He carried her burdens for her. He was always the first person she called when something went wrong and she couldn’t fix it. Whenever she had a bad day at work, he was her first call. Any time she needed anything; Killian Jones was the first call. Hell, he was both her and Henry’s emergency contact.

His brilliant blue eyes floated around in her brain. He knew her better than anyone else. She also thought she knew him better too. She knew that his favorite breakfast was waffles; that no matter how hung over or sick he was, if Emma and Henry were anywhere near him on a Sunday morning, they would all binge on waffles, bacon and hash browns. He knew how worried she was about being a good mom, especially since she had Henry so young and she was raising him on her own. He always made sure that Emma knew how good she was doing with Henry; but he also made sure she took time for herself. He loved Henry like he was his own too. Henry had always had people who loved him, but his bond with Killian was different than his bond with everyone else. Sure, Henry loved David, but he never accidentally called David dad. Emma smiled as that memory played in her thoughts. Killian’s ears turned bright red when Henry didn’t correct a friend who asked if Killian was his father. Emma was still surprised that she didn’t melt with embarrassment at Henry’s oversight, or at Killian’s obvious like of the situation.

“Ma’am, we’re here,” the drive called, his voice sounding far away.

Emma whispered a thanks as she climbed out.

Killian’s apartment was near hers, so her friends would believe that she was home already; so she sent off a text to the group to let them know she arrived safe – knowing all to well that if she didn’t they would be calling the cops.

Emma pressed her code into the panel near the door, surprised that she could remember it. Killian had given her the code a week after they met, saying that she was welcome to stop by whenever. The latch on the door released and Emma swung it open so fast, that the door flew into her shins, scraping the skin that was exposed by the holes in her jeans. It was such a small scrape, but it didn’t stop the blood from beginning to pool.

Throwing her hand down on her knee, she hobbled over to the elevator and pressed the button sending her up to his floor. She laughed at herself. Here she was, in a building that wasn’t hers, drunk, hobbled over holding a scrape, trying to walk with grace to Killian’s door at the far end of the hallway. Whoever was watching the security cameras was probably dying of laughter. Her hair was crazy from being worn down for their girl’s night. She hoped that no one came out to notice her.

Her hand reached up to knock on his door, as she took a deep breath. At least the scrape stopped her from talking herself out of or worrying about what she was here to do. She leaned her head against the door, while she slowly lifted her hand from her scrape to see how bad it was. Quickly the door swung open and Emma was falling. As she hit the ground, laughter erupted from her mouth.

“Emma, what the hell?” Killian said, bending down to help her back up off the floor.

“Are you bleeding? Did you hit your head?” he questioned, not giving her a moment to answer his first question.

“I hit myself on the door,” she hiccuped, holding up her bloodied hand and using the other hand to grasp his forearm as he moved her.

“I can see that love,” he laughed out, “sit down here and I will get the first aid kit, see if you can get a clear view of the wound.”

She saluted him as he walked from the room. She giggled to herself, she was cute. Her confidence was rising. She looked down at her pants, and couldn’t see how he was going to patch her up through the slits in her knees; so, she did the only thing she could think of.

When Killian came back in from the bathroom, Emma was sitting on his couch in nothing but her tee shirt and panties. If she hadn’t been so drunk, she would have heard the sharp intake of breath that Killian took when he saw her. She wasn’t looking at him either, or she would have seen his eyes darken with desire.

If she hadn’t been drunk or looking at the clicker she was holding, she would have seen what she had been hoping for all along.

“Alright Swan be a good patient and put you leg up here so I can clean the wound,” he ordered.

He sat down next to her and patted his lap.

Instead of her legs, her head ended up on his lap. She sighed, taking in every feeling as she closed her eyes and settled. The softness of the cotton PJ pants that she had gotten him the Christmas before was as welcoming as any pillowcase.

“Emma, what are you doing?” he whispered, his voice holding something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Proving that you are much more comfortable than a pillow,” she said, a smile forming on her lips.

She was thinking that on the way over, remembering another memory of where the entire group took a road trip cross country and Emma fell asleep on Killian’s shoulder, while he was holding Henry’s hand as her son slept in his car seat. It was one of the best sleeps she had ever gotten, which is saying something considering she spent one of her first big paychecks on a top of the line mattress. Then again, she was also the mother of a toddler.

“I highly doubt I am more comfortable than a pillow love,” he countered, his hand coming down to stroke her hair.

The smile on her face grew. She stayed quite for a minute.

“Well, you are, and I’m always right,” she giggled.

“That you are love,” he said, his hand still stroking her hair, rubbing little circles on her scalp every few motions.

They sat like that for a while. Her breathing never slowed, as she was too excited. Killian’s scent wafted around her. She turned her head, so she wasn’t looking straight up to the ceiling, so that she could nuzzle into his shirt. She barley got a whiff when she felt something rise beneath her and she was being pushed off his lap. His strong hands came to grasp her shoulders, turning her towards him, forcing her eyes open to meet his.

“What are you doing Emma?” His voice was soft. His eyes sparkled and searched hers for answers.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” she said, fully turning towards him.

Before he could ask any other questions, before she could talk herself out of what she was going to do, before either of them could do anything else; she was pulling him towards her, smashing her lips to his.

As if her lips on his were second nature, he pulled her against him and deepened the kiss. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. They kissed for what seemed like hours. Her hands explored him, his shoulders and back. The kiss was passionate and sensual, but also soft and loving. Emma’s heart pumped faster than ever before. She was pretty sure that at any moment it would stop. She was also pretty sure that if Killian’s hands weren’t holding her to him, she would have floated away in pure bliss. Her head, which was already a bit fuzzy, was now completed clouded by Killian.

The kiss was everything she had ever dreamt about – and she had dreamt about it a lot. It wasn’t just a kiss for her either. It was a promise of something more. She could tell, just one kiss from Killian would never be enough, would never be the last. He hadn’t said anything, but there was something in the way he held her that told her she would never go another day without him kissing her.

He pulled back from the kiss, putting a pout on Emma’s lips. His forehead rested on hers, as they both caught their breath, eyes closed, trying to keep that feeling as long as they could. Her hand rested on his chest, right above his quickly beating heart. She sighed as she felt it, wanting to lean down and nuzzle against it. She wanted to stay there forever, next to him, surrounded by him.

“Emma,” he whispered, breathing her in.

“Hmmm,” was all that she could respond.

“That was…” he trailed off, as he opened his eyes to get a good look at her.

“Definitely not a one-time thing,” she said, a bit forcefully. She wasn’t going to let him slip through her fingers. She had waited long enough for him and she wasn’t going to miss out on another minute.

A smile grew across his face, his eyes darkened.

“Definitely, however, I don’t think we should do it again until you are one, bandaged up and not bleeding, and two, not drunk,” he said, always the gentleman.

Emma peered down at her leg, which somehow ended up over his. The bleeding looked to have stopped, but her jeans were going to need a good soak in seltzer water and lemon. The superficial wound would forever be her favorite, because it led her to here. Or at least, it led her to Killian’s lap.

“I’m not that drunk,” she countered.

“Love, it doesn’t matter. What matters, is that I want to make sure you don’t regret this in the morning. I’ve waited a long time for you to do that, and I don’t want it to be just because you were drunk,” he replied, a bit of hurt in his eyes.

“Being drunk gave me to courage to finally tell you how I feel, how I’ve felt since that first week. How you never noticed that I was in love with you, I will never understand. I’ve waited for years for you to make a move, to show me that you felt the same,” she confessed, all the walls she had came crumbling down.

“You love me?” he asked, searching her eyes for the answer, scared that what she was saying wouldn’t still ring true in the morning.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank God,” he said, pulling her to him, burying her head against his chest, his hands tightening around her, refusing to let her go.

He reached one hand around to her face, pulling her chin up so that she was looking at him.

“I love you too,” leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Great, now Mary Margaret is going to call this the “I Love You Incident”,” she laughed, as she leaned her head back into his chest, feeling him laugh right along with her.

As far as names went, it was the best one out there and the best incident to ever happen.

[weeklyhumorist]

Welcome to Greg & Jackie’s Wedding Site—Fuck Yeah!

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Welcome to Greg & Jackie’s Wedding Site—Fuck Yeah!

August 31

The Ceremony

St. John’s Church 2 p.m.

The Reception

Greg’s parents’ backyard 4 p.m. ‘til the cops come

The Groom

Greg loves sports, tailgating, chilling with his boys, flip cup, and his family. He dropped out of college during his senior year and went on to become the youngest V.P. at his dad’s accounting firm. You already know he lifts, bro.

The Bride

Jackie told Greg to say that she’s obsessed with her family, bottomless brunches, topless beaches, and living life to the fullest. She also hates drama and loves her girls more than anything (except you, Bethany. You know what the fuck you did). Jackie teaches first grade at Maplewood Primary School.

The Wedding Party

Robby – Best Man Richy – Groomsman Ronny – Groomsman Jerry – Groomsman Mikey – Groomsman Matty – Groomsman Cory – Groomsman Shawny – Groomsman Keviny – Groomsman Glenn – Groomsman

Jessica D. – Co- Maid of Honor Jessica R. – Co-Maid of Honor Jessica B. – Co-Maid of Honor Jessica K. – Co-Maid of Honor

How They Met

Greg and Jackie first laid eyes on each other freshman year of college at an off-campus toga party. Jackie did a sick keg stand that lasted 51-seconds before she started puking everywhere. Her girlfriends ran over to hold back her ivy garland. That’s when Greg turned to his boy Robby and said, “Who is that girl? Her ass is divine!” and Robby said, “Word.” The rest is history!

The Proposal

Greg and Jackie had just broken up for the fourth time. This was when Jackie found out Greg was sleeping with her ex-best friend, so she started sleeping with his boy Robby (ice cold, bro). One Sunday, Robby took Jackie to Boardy Barn, and when Greg saw her Instagram story, he fucking lost it. He showed up at Jackie’s parents’ house the next day, crying and begging. Jackie opened her bedroom window and started tossing out everything he’d left there—mostly just his white tees, his black tees, and his going out tees. Greg knelt in the grass and yelled out, “DON’T DO THIS, JACKIE. I WANNA MARRY YOU.” That was the moment when Jackie stopped, looked into his eyes, and replied, “Eat shit and die.”

The Second Proposal

Anyone who’s met Greg and Jackie knows they can’t stay apart for long. One week later, they went to Mickey D’s to talk things over. Jackie didn’t even see it coming. Bro, the ring was in her McFlurry. #SheSaidFuckYeah

Registry

Greg and Jackie are registered at West Elm.

Welcome to Greg & Jackie’s Wedding Site—Fuck Yeah! was originally published on Weekly Humorist

[ronsthoughts]

An Angel From Heaven

Jewish teachings, and the tradition in which I was raised, don't give much credence to the concept of heaven and hell. And thusly, An Angel From Heaven seems an odd title for a blog post written by a nice Jewish man from Los Angeles. But to me the concept of angels equates to people in the world who do good things for others. Tzedakah, or charity, is an angelic thing to do, or something as simple as listening to a friend in need and giving them the support and guidance to get through what ails them.

But my soul was blessed early last year by another type of Angel. One who stole my heart. I was in the midst of a personal meltdown. A job transition was taking longer than I had thought, causing financial concerns, and my newly found loneliness and the stress around that were taking their toll on me. And I am a person who doesn’t embrace being alone as some do. Don't get me wrong, I really like me, but I am just more comfortable being part of a we. I was literally looking for love in all the wrong places. I was dating endlessly with no real game plan, because I thought that was what I was supposed to be doing. It was a frustrating world that I didn't belong in and the more I went out, the more I disliked it. I reconnected with someone from my past, thinking that she was my destiny, and that with the right amount of time destiny would prevail. I was wrong.

So I stopped looking. I decided to force myself to be alone for a while at the urging of, well, everyone I knew! But as is often the case, when you stop looking for something, that something tends to appear. And in my case it did. It was an Angel. I was out with my daughter late one night, when I received a random text from an old friend I hadn't spoken to in some time. She sent me a picture of a longtime friend of hers, explaining that this person was newly single, and wanted to see if I was interested in meeting her. I remember the picture well. She was beautiful, with long strawberry blonde hair, an amazing smile and just a little hint of sass. After pressing my friend for some details, I readily took her number and decided to give her a call. Now I have seen enough movies to know that a guy is not supposed to call a girl before at least three days have gone by. So this being the era of texting, I decided to give that mode of communication a whirl before reaching out. Was I playing it cool, or did I just really have no clue what I was doing? Who knows. But somehow she agreed to a phone call and we talked on a Sunday evening. I liked her immediately. She was smart, funny, direct and totally adorable. We made plans to get together for brunch the following week.

Being that this was my first day date, and that it was a spring like 75 degrees in Los Angeles (in February!), I decided to go casual, my usual uniform of shorts, T-shirt and flip flops. I was determined to be me, like it or not. And this woman wasn’t likely going to be long term anyway, as I had already decided that "Destiny" mentioned above was to fill that space. Again, I was wrong. She came walking in, (I got there first, as I always did, because I like to watch the walk in) and wow! She was beautiful, vibrant and let me just say, totally hot! After some concern that people would think I was her father (she is 12 years my junior) and that she would get carded for the bottomless mimosas we ordered, we settled in and started what would be an amazing conversation. She was a bit damaged, also the victim of a recent divorce, and kind of finding her way. But she was so filled with life, bursting at the seams with thoughts and ideas about things she wanted to do, see, and experience. I loved her energy and intelligence, her zest for living life to its fullest. And when I talked, she listened. I mean actually listened, heard me and took genuine interest in what I was saying. At one point, she stood to go to the bathroom and I got to see the full package. Yowza! This chick definitely took good care of her body, and I immediately wanted to take care of it too! We left with simple hug and no more ( I am of course a gentleman), and made plans to be in touch again.

After a successful second date, I texted her and said I would like to see her again later that week and was hit back with "I am not looking for a relationship.” I quickly replied that I wasn’t either so there was no problem. I, of course was totally lying! I dug her and wanted her to be mine. As the weeks and months went on, we spent a lot of time together and began getting closer. Our physical chemistry was immediate and magnetic, and dare I say, spectacular. But my heart was still lost, stuck in the past and not open to her. I liked her a lot, but just wasn't giving her the fullness of my heart that she deserved. I saw her as just a placeholder, a bridge to someone else and the deep love I was looking for. I even broke things off with her a couple times, determined to find that love and move my life forward. But what I didn’t realize was that the love I was looking for was right there staring at me the whole time. It was her, placeholder lady. She was here in my life to save me, to love me and to feed on the endless love that I had to give. SHE was my Angel From Heaven!

So after the last of the brief "break ups", I decided to open up my heart to her and give her all that she deserved. Now you should know, I am a very emotional dude, and have often been compared to the female genitalia when being described. I am very filled with love and not afraid to express my feelings. She was not used to this. At all. And it freaked her out at first. A lot. But in true tribute to my girl, she adapted and forced herself to be more open and vulnerable with her feelings. And we have now developed an amazing love for each other. We laugh together, sometimes at each other, and have formed such an amazing bond. She gets me, most of the time, and when she doesn’t she makes the effort to understand me. She is over flowing with love, so much that I think it surprises her sometimes. And her ability to take things as they come and live life to its fullest continues to amaze and teach me. She just plain makes me better!

My Yael is my Angel. Yes, I said her name. I want the whole world to know how very much I love this woman, and how much I truly feel that she saved me. She has put up with my crazy ass mood swings and emotional (she calls them cheesy) expressions of my love. When we are together, we have the ability to connect on such a high level of love, without speaking a word, that it brings tears to our eyes. Our connection, now far beyond just the physical (although that part remains amazing and gets better every time), continues to grow stronger every day. I have seen so much change in her in the last year, coming out of her shell and opening up her heart to me. Do we know what the long term future holds for us? Absolutely not. But I do know that every day I have my angel in my life is a good one for me.

[peckhampeculiar]

Reigning supreme

Landlord Clement Ogbonnaya is celebrating one year in business at the Prince of Peckham this week. He tells us how he turned the once beleaguered boozer into a buzzing pub that promises a warm welcome for all  

Words: Emma Finamore; Photo: Lima Charlie 

“For south London, by south London.” It’s a simple statement, but one that means a lot to Clement Ogbonnaya.

Since taking on the Clayton Arms and reopening it as the Prince of Peckham in May last year, Clement has transformed the boarded-up boozer into a busy pub, with south London at its heart.

Having grown up in the area, it’s a place he knows like the back of his hand. He went to school at St Thomas the Apostle College, just a 10-minute walk from the pub we’re sitting in now.  

He was a “kind of geeky” kid (his words) who loved football, and got dragged from shop to shop by his mum on Rye Lane every Saturday. Morley’s was the main hangout on the walk home after school, and Desmond’s was his favourite TV show.

It sounds like a very British, very south London, childhood, but Clement was actually born in Nigeria.

“My parents came in 1986,” he says. “My main memory of first coming here is chips – I remember seeing chips and thinking they were amazing. I remember going to primary school in Brockley, and me and my sister saving money to buy chips.”

Many of his early memories revolve around food, so maybe he was always destined to own a place that serves up great grub. However, his journey to becoming a pub landlord wasn’t straightforward.

First he went to university. “That’s when everything changed for me socially,” he says, “learning about other people, coming from this south-east London bubble and meeting people different to me and the people I grew up with.”

After this he worked in retail for brands such as Armani, where he realised his love of people.

“I just wanted to chat,” he laughs. “I’m a great believer in talking, I’m a massive sponge. You can’t sell to someone if you don’t know them. That’s what I really liked about retail.”

He went on to work as a salesman, learning about the sales cycle, and at a photography studio – during the Myspace and Facebook boom – where he realised the importance of data.

“All this time I knew that roads would lead to something bigger,” he remembers. The experience played a part in his next move: promoting club nights and organising parties.

He would put on events in West End hotspots like Chinawhite, as well as running corporate bashes like New Look’s 40th birthday party, and organising the official after-parties for events at places like the O2.

Then The Westbury – a pub in Wood Green – approached him and asked him to manage it. “By this time I knew I loved venues,” he says.

“I was getting more and more interested in running my own venue. I agreed to take that on in 2012 and it was a pretty steep learning curve. But it was the best education I could have had.”

It was obviously one he enjoyed, too – because his next venture was yet another step up: his own nightclub, Love & Liquor in Maida Vale. “We smashed it,” Clement laughs.

But he’s not kidding: the club was a hit with celebrities like Jay-Z, Rihanna, Jennifer Lopez, P Diddy and Nelly, as well as regular punters, and the team even managed to bag A-lister Idris Elba for an eight-week DJ residency.  

When Clement and his business partner sold Love & Liquor, he’d already developed the ethos that would help when building his new pub in Peckham. “It’s all about win/win relationships,” he says.

“If the venue wins, everyone wins. My thought process had totally changed. If you’re going to have a venue, it first and foremost needs to work for the community and the residents in its immediate vicinity.”

Next on his colourful CV was managing The Paradise By Way of Kensal Green. “That’s when I really fell in love with pubs,” says Clement.

“All I wanted to do was give it back to the community – we got involved with Carnival and sound systems, we put on community fairs, but all alongside big name DJs on Fridays.

“When I finished there I knew I had to have a pub, and I wanted it to be in south-east London – the community I knew best.”

Walking through Peckham one day, Clement noticed the pub on Clayton Road was up for sale, and started setting the next stage of his career path in motion.

He looked at the original Clayton Arms, which was damaged during the 2011 London riots and sat boarded up until 2015; the short-lived Dead Dolls House, and the equally short-lived reopened Clayton Arms.

He looked at what they got wrong as establishments and what they got right – and used it along with his own business acumen and hospitality experience to build a clear picture of what he wanted and how to do it. “The business plan for this place was the most thorough bit of work I’ve ever done,” he says.

The work paid off, and on March 17, 2017 he took over the building. “I remember thinking, ‘Shit, I’m tied to this place for like, 25 years!’” he laughs. “It’s been like school every day. Every day I come in and learn something new. But I love it. I love my staff, I love the customers… it’s a love affair right now.”

His enthusiasm shines through in the dynamic, eclectic schedule and the food and drink offering the Prince of Peckham now boasts.

Musically, there’s something for everyone, whether it’s high-octane party vibes at Saturday’s Culture club night – think hip hop, R&B classics and Afrobeat – or the regular Pull Up Dat Fam night, featuring grime, dancehall, soca, rap and everything in between.

There’s also Cross the Tracks with JRust and Lavan, playing funk, disco, house and garage; Jay Jay Revlon’s Let’s Have a Kiki feel-good voguing dance parties; chilled-out Sundays with all-female DJ collective Sisters of Reggae, and nights with Peckham-based creative collective Born n Bread.

Most of the people Clement works with on this busy schedule are locals, in keeping with his ethos for the pub. For example, last month’s Vegan & Vinyl Feast was a celebration of vinyl and tasty vegan food from Zionly Manna Vegan Rastarant in Rye Lane Market. the owner, Jahson Peat, grew up on the North Peckham Estate.

The pub’s food is also sourced locally wherever possible, and the weekly menu gives a nod to Peckham’s longstanding Caribbean community, putting an island twist on pub classics: jerk sausage and mash, curried mutton shepherd’s pie, Red Stripe and jerk spiced fish and chips, as well as snacks and sides like patties, saltfish fritters, wings brined in Red Stripe, and jerk fries.

There are great deals to be had too: Street Feast favourites White Men Can’t Jerk run a Saturday bottomless brunch featuring Red Stripe fried chicken and waffles among other lip-smacking goodies, as well as limitless prosecco.

Hot Mess Mondays offer visitors a huge stack of chicken wings in a range of flavours for just £10, and every Tuesday, Mates & Dates means guests can bring a mate (or a date) for two buns and fries to share for £15.

Other events include disco yoga, the University of Peckham quiz night, swing dance classes, hip hop vs grime karaoke, and spoken word and poetry nights. Your average local boozer this is not.  

“I feel like we’ve seamlessly moved into the Peckham landscape,” says Clement, reflecting on the first year in business, and his hard work to create a place that is genuinely welcoming for everyone.

“Desmond’s was my favourite show growing up – a local barber shop where everyone went. It was welcoming to everyone but unapologetically Caribbean. In the same way, I’m in Britain but I’m Nigerian, and I want this place to reflect that mash-up of cultures.

“I think it’s important for young black people to see me behind the bar. This is our community, if we’re in this community why aren’t we running the pubs? I’ve got a little girl too, and it’s important for her to see me owning something. It’s not about the self, it’s about creating a legacy.

“Just like the ‘Peckham Prince’ in Desmond’s [aka Lee Stanley, the local wheeler-dealer who was like a son to Desmond and Shirley], it’s about that mash-up of cultures in one person.

“When we were kids, everyone thought they were the ‘Peckham Prince’, that’s what inspired the name here. I think whatever part of Peckham you are from – black, white, middle class, working class, whatever – you deserve to be treated like royalty. We give people a good time.”

Peckham is clearly very dear to Clement, as he talks about community, building a network of local friends and fellow businesses. New Year’s Eve was one of the few moments he let himself have a moment of reflection: “I stood back, looked at all our regulars from the area, and thought, ‘We’ve done alright’. I want to have the same feeling every day.”

And – forever the entrepreneur – he’s already putting plans in place for that to happen. The next 12 months at the Prince of Peckham are “all about getting quality and consistency”.

This means continuing to welcome everyone from Peckham and beyond with warm, open arms, and ensuring the excitement and buzz of nights like Culture are replicated every single evening. There’s also a collaboration with the hugely popular Trap Kitchen – from Prince “Shakka” Owusu – in the pipeline.

Clement is already looking in Peckham for a second site, too. “It could be a pub, it could be a bar, but it will be similar vibe,” he says. “A really cool boozer, a home-from-home vibe.

“One of the good things about growing up in Peckham was that everyone wanted to be better and do more.”

With his community-focused pub, working with a roster of local businesses and young creatives, Clement is not only realising this dream himself, but helping others realise it for themselves, too.

[thanksforthefush-blog]

How to spend 48 hours in NYC

TLDR: Linda, Zoe and Linda's sister head off to NYC. Gets very stressed over ordering bagels. Eats New York pizza that tastes the same as pizza everywhere else. We take photos on the Met Steps, living out all our Gossip Girl dreams. Gets insanely drunk off bottomless margaritas at brunch and pass out at Central Park - Zoe misses out on all bus tickets and ends up paying a small fortune to get home. We see Penn Badgley at dinner, basically the same as having dinner with him.

Zoe had been asking me pretty much the moment we got to America to go to New York. I was in the midst of trying to figure out my life, finding a job, working out the meaning of my existence etc so I kept putting it off. The moment Phu landed in America, I immediately decided NYC was a great idea even though Zoe had been spent the last 2 months trying to convince me to go. So off to NYC we went. In very atypical Linda fashion, I had decided not to plan everything to a T and allowed a little spontaneity in our trip (didn't even create a spreadsheet for it which is insane).

This meant that we were all up at 3am on the day we were heading to NYC, trying to book accommodation and being so tired that booking accommodation that was $400 a night or bussing back to Philly (2.5 hour drive) at the end of the night and then bussing back to NYC the next morning (as it would be cheaper than getting a hotel room) all seemed like great ideas. The weekend we chose to go to NYC happened to be weekend of the Pride Parade and so all the hotels, AirBnBs and any decently priced accommodation had been sold out for weeks. We were lucky enough to find a last minute deal for a hotel in the Financial District which turned out to be absolutely perfect and well-priced.

Our bus to New York was at 7am and we were all operating on about 3 hours of sleep. After dropping our luggage off at the hotel, we decided to give the classic New York bagel a go. This happened to be the most stressful experience of my life. There are like 15 different types of bagels, 6 different cream cheeses and endless combinations of bagel fillings and just people shouting everywhere. While in line, I tried asking the person behind me how to order a bagel because my only experience with ordering a bagel was back home at Best Ugly Bagel where you order a 'White Rabbit' and you know exactly what is in it. They told me they didn't know either and next thing I know, I was at the front counter nervously asking for a pastrami bagel (followed by 'WHAT TYPE OF BAGEL? EVERYTHING? GARLIC? SESAME? TOASTED?) with cream cheese (followed by 'PLAIN? JALAPENO? RED PEPPER? SCALLION?) and further strings of things being shouted at me and the guy behind the counter being clearly exasperated by me so I just accepted my fate and just paid for whatever I had ordered and high-tailed it out of there.

As I later found out, NYC has no time for people like me and the way you're supposed to order a bagel is more like 'Pastrami on an everything bagel, garlic cream cheese, red peppers, pickles. Do not toast'. It was only 10am in the morning, I was sleep deprived and was so stressed out about ordering a bagel and people shouting at me. Like everything else in America, the portion sizes were huge and Phu and I were so salty about the fact that we had ordered two separate bagels because they were bloody expensive when one would have fed us both, a small family and perhaps a small nation too. I realise that I just wrote two lengthy paragraphs about this bagel incident but this event was deeply profound and affected me emotionally.

Pastrami bagel on unknown type of bagel, unknown type of cream cheese, unknown condiments

We hit the classic iconic spots on the first day - the Ground Zero 9/11 memorial, the High Line, the magical New York Public Library, Times Square, Grand Central Terminal and finished off the night at the top of the picturesque Empire State Building. Exploring New York was a unique experience - you're going to places for the first time that feel familiar because you've seen it in countless movies and shows. It's both new and familiar at the same time.

One of my favorite destinations on our first day was the New York Public Library. It is so insanely beautiful and I was in pure bliss just walking through its marble hallways. Though a concrete jungle, New York has all these little pockets of beautiful greenery such as the High Line which is a 2.3km elevated stretch of green nestled in between the existing infrastructure of New York City.

The Rose Main Reading Home in the New York Public Library

A post shared by Linda & Zoe (@thanksforthefush) on Jun 24, 2017 at 3:09pm PDT

Times Square was just as I imagined – crowds of people, street performers, food vendors and giant billboards. People try to give you high fives and hugs to which I’m just like ‘No thanks’ because I don’t like random people touching me. Being in the midst of tourist central, we decided that our trip to New York would not be complete without having a slice of authentic quality NY pizza and so we walked a couple blocks to find ourselves a slice of classic NY pizza. We have Sal’s and Tommy Millions back at home, and every time I tell people that I love eating pizza from there, you always get those people who are like ‘Oh but like have you had a pizza from NYC before, like that is authentic NY pizza’ and I’m just going to put it out there and say that they taste pretty much the same so for people back home, you’re not missing out on anything. With a sample size of n=1 for NY pizza, I can make the assumption that pizza is pizza and is always delicious.

New York pizza which incidentally tastes the same as pizza in New Zealand

Last stop for Day 1 was the Empire State Building. We were deciding between Top of the Rock at the Rockerfeller Center but TripAdvisor recommended the ESB for viewing the NY skyline at night and who are we to dispute trusty TripAdvisor. It was like $34 to go up which is pretty pricey so if you don't care about seeing the skyline or you're on a budget, I would say just skip it and look at Instagram photos of it instead cause it's basically the same thing (I took the liberty of providing said Instagram shots below for you).

If you do decide to go up and plan on going at a popular time, which is when the sun is about to set, I would recommend purchasing tickets online as they have a separate line for those who have already purchased tickets. We hadn't and had waited about 40-50 minutes in line to get up and these were like the Disney lines where you think you've finally made it to the start of the line and then you get there and it turns out there is just more line. We made it just in time to see the sunset and it was pretty fucking beautiful.

A post shared by Linda & Zoe (@thanksforthefush) on Jun 24, 2017 at 8:27pm PDT

A post shared by Linda & Zoe (@thanksforthefush) on Jun 24, 2017 at 8:30pm PDT

The next day, Zoe and I got to live out our Gossip Girl dreams. Here is a candid shot of us on the steps of The Met for any GG fans out there xoxo. We actually did visit The Met, also insanely beautiful like much of the architecture in New York but we were all pretty knackered from the day before and saw half of the museum before we were all museum-ed out.

A post shared by Linda & Zoe (@thanksforthefush) on Jun 25, 2017 at 7:42am PDT

We found this cute lil Mexican brunch spot on the edge of Central Park and Harlem that did bottomless margaritas for $12.95. Zoe and I must have had at least 7 margaritas each, getting absolute value out of our bottomless brunch at $1.85 a margarita. I managed to talk Zoe out of getting black out drunk at 3pm on a Sunday, something I would usually encourage if it were not for our plans to go Central Park where children would be present and would probably not appreciate our drunken antics in broad daylight. We ended up passing out at Central Park anyways post margaritas and could have literally been robbed of all our belongings and we probably would have not noticed. Zoe was supposed to buy a bus ticket home to DC but because we got too drunk and had a cheeky little snooze, all the bus tickets ended up selling out and Zoe ended up spending ~$150 for a train ticket ride home as opposed to a $25 bus ticket. 

Goes to the famous Central Park only to nap through it anyways - classic Linda and Zoe

We headed out to Brooklyn for dinner and Penn Badgley who plays Dan Humphrey in Gossip Girl had been dining at the table next to us - a perfect way to end our weekend in NYC with a cheeky celebrity spotting even though it's just Dan because I would have lost my absolute shit if it had been Chuck.

New York was just as expensive and packed as I expected. It is a city that I loved visiting, and reaffirmed my decision not to move there. While I could definitely see its appeal to others, it's not quite the right city for me. Rent is exorbitant (like honestly, one months rent in NY is enough to pay for 3 months of my rent in Philly) and it's just too populated for my own liking. Having 3 people on our trip helped keep the cost of rideshares and accommodation down, and so if planning  a trip, I would recommend going with a couple of friends.

Though I loved exploring the city and seeing all these iconic landmarks I had come to associate with New York, it lacked a novel feel to it as I had seen all these places before in the movies and shows that I've watched. In saying that, Zoe and I will definitely be back as there are so many things left to do that we couldn't possibly fit into one weekend but I'm glad that at the end of my time there, I can go back home to Philly.

A breakdown of costs for our trip to New York:

Item

Per person

Return bus trip from Philly 20 Hotel 81.67 Rideshares 22.87 Food 66.73 Empire State Building 34 The Met 25

Total

$250.27

Of course, Zoe had the additional cost of her train ticket back to DC. If we had gotten a Metro card and rode the subway everywhere, we probably would have saved money in terms of how much we spent on transport but we also just couldn’t be bothered. If we had booked our accommodation earlier, we probably could have found a much cheaper place to stay. Similarly for food, you could spend much less over a weekend by living off $1 slice pizzas and then dealing with the effects of high cholesterol and heart disease later. Similarly for the attractions, you could save $59 and just go to the multitude of free attractions New York has to offer (Ground Zero, the High Line, New York Public Library, Times Square, Grand Central Station and Central Park were all free).

So until next time, xoxo Gossip Girl.