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margariandmikespizza · 1 month

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Crafting Crusts, Creating Memories: Mike's NYC Pizza Experience

In the bustling streets of New York City, where the aroma of pizza wafts through the air and every corner boasts its own slice joint, there's one name that stands out among the rest: Mike's NYC Pizza. Nestled in the heart of the city, this iconic pizzeria isn't just about serving up delicious pies; it's about crafting crusts and creating memories that last a lifetime.

Step through the doors of Mike's and you're immediately enveloped in the warmth of the wood-fired ovens and the chatter of satisfied customers. The ambiance is unmistakably New York – lively, vibrant, and brimming with character. But it's the aroma of freshly baked dough and bubbling cheese that truly steals the show.

At Mike's, pizza isn't just a meal; it's an art form. Each crust is meticulously handcrafted, using only the finest ingredients sourced from local vendors. From the perfectly chewy Neapolitan-style base to the crisp, golden edges, every detail is carefully considered to ensure that each slice is a masterpiece in its own right.

But what truly sets Mike's apart is the sense of community that permeates every aspect of the experience. Whether you're a first-time visitor or a regular, you're greeted with a warm smile and treated like family from the moment you walk in. It's this dedication to hospitality that keeps customers coming back time and time again, forging memories that last a lifetime.

And speaking of memories, there's something magical about sharing a pizza with loved ones. Whether it's a casual dinner with friends or a special celebration with family, Mike's provides the perfect backdrop for creating moments that you'll treasure forever. There's just something about breaking bread (or in this case, tearing into a cheesy slice) together that brings people closer, fostering connections that transcend mere food.

In a city known for its fast pace and frenetic energy, Mike's NYC Pizza offers a welcome respite – a chance to slow down, savor the moment, and indulge in the simple pleasure of good food and good company. So the next time you find yourself craving a taste of the Big Apple, why not pay a visit to Mike's? After all, when it comes to crafting crusts and creating memories, there's no place quite like it.

Come for the pizza, stay for the experience – and leave with memories that will last a lifetime.

#mikes pizza #mikes pizza new york #margari pizza #margari pizza nyc

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sassypossumm · 2 months

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First Editions

The manager of one of the most illustrious coffee shoppes in London, and a mysterious grumpy businessman (who may or may not be some kind of mob boss). What could possibly go wrong?! Right....

"Stop looking at him like that, it's creepy!" Margary leaned over, hissing in your ear. Brushing off the unpleasant sensation you leaned back and gave her a dirty look.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Margary!" Grabbing several paper towels, you began furiously wiping up a wet spot on the counter. Folding her arms, she raised a brow and gave you a knowing look.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you've been staring at him every time he comes in! And don't try to deny it!" Clenching the towels in your hand you closed your eyes and clenched your teeth. She wasn't wrong. Much as you hated to admit it, you'd developed something of a... fascination for the older British gentleman who'd taken to coming in everyday now.

And every morning he ordered the same thing. A plain hot earl gray tea, cream on the side. Then he'd do the same thing, every day. He took his tea and sat in the exact same chair at the exact same table, every day. And every day you watched him shake open the paper. And he sat there for exactly forty-five minutes to the dot. Never a minute more, never a minute less. Then he'd neatly fold and crease his paper, tuck it under his arm, return the empty teacup, and thank you in that clipped accent of his, and he'd walk out the door.

In the weeks he'd been frequenting the shoppe where you managed, you'd exchange a handful of words with the man, and that was a generous estimate at best. And yet, somehow, you'd become fairly well acquainted with the stodgy man.

For starters, he was wealthy. Disgustingly if you had to guess. From the way he dressed to the way he carried himself, he exuded confidence and that old-world charm that seemed to be going rapidly extinct. His appearance was always meticulous.

He didn't dress in a flashy manner, that had you supposing that he was a self-made man who valued his money, and preferred to invest in the quality of his garments rather than simply following whatever was the idiotic trend of the week dictated by the self-proclaimed fashion gods.

In summary, you were besotted.

"I swear, you've got some serious daddy issues, or a major grandpa kink." Margary's voice dragged you out of your thoughts and back to your present reality. Coffee. Strong coffee at that. Your shoppe prided itself on the special blends you brewed. It was rumored that even members of the royal family popped in from time to time, discreetly of course. Tossing the towels in the bin, or trashcan as you'd say back home, you threw Margary a wry grin.

"Maybe it's a little bit of both, Marge." You chuckled at her scowl. You knew she hated that nickname, which was precisely why you continued using it.

"He actually remembered your name today." She teased, bumping your hip playfully as she passed to wipe down the tables.

"Yeah, yeah, big whoop." Rolling your eyes, you opened the cash register to make sure you'd have enough funds to make it through lunch. Business usually tapered off around 12:30, meaning you'd most likely be able to dash to the bank and back without being missed.

Margary hated holding down the fort, but hey, perks of being the manager, right? Flipping through the fives, you were so focused on counting and facing the bills, initially you didn't notice when a customer came to stand in front of the register. He cleared his throat.

"I'll be right with you." You said politely, glancing up absently. Him. Your throat constricted and your grip on the bills tightened. "Mr. Lannister." Your voice sounded a pitch too high even to your ears. Stuffing the bills back into the drawer, you slammed it shut just a bit more forcefully than necessary. A ghost of a smirk crossed his face, but before you could fully appreciate it, his features fell back into their usual passive refrain, and he slid the empty teacup across the counter.

"You're finished early." The words left your mouth before you could stop them. You felt a telltale flush creep up the back of your neck. He did smirk this time. You reached for the teacup, utterly mortified. You weren't supposed to keep tabs on how long customers spent in the shoppe. That was creepy, right?

"Yes, I've unforeseen matters to attend to."

Your heart jumped at that. He was talking to you. Sure, it was vague and a bit cryptic, but Tywin Lannister was actually talking to you. And while his expression remained impassive, something in his eyes told you he wasn't exactly pleased to have his schedule messed up.

That you could understand. As a rule of thumb, you yourself were a creature of habit. If your plans were screwed with, it had the strong potential to through your whole day off.

"Well, I hope it resolves itself." Offering what you hoped was a conciliatorily smile, you placed the teacup in the mess bucket and turned to take it to the dishwasher.

"Oh, just one moment." You turned expectantly. He flipped open his brief case and fished out a book. A very old book from the looks of it. "Here." He held out the book and you took it gingerly. "I recall we were discussing the classics,"

"We were?" You blurted without thinking. Mr. Lannister soured at your outburst. Pursing your lips, you waited for him to continue.

"Perhaps I heard you and your friend discussing it in passing, regardless, I recall you mentioning that you'd never read 'Anna Karinina'. To be quite honest I found such a notion appalling. Most likely the result of the poor education system in the states." Your head span like a dervish under his barrage of words, you hadn't been aware he was even capable of so many. "Nevertheless, that is neither here nor there," He continued, shutting his briefcase. "You now possess a copy, and I expect you to read it." His eyes pierced through you with the order.

"Yes, sir." You murmured, your ears burning under the heat of his gaze.

"You seem intelligent. And an intelligent woman should be well read." He tapped on the cover of the book for emphasis. Your mouth went dry, and you found it impossible to tear your eyes away from his. You were vaguely aware of yourself nodding in agreement. With a final curt nod, he left without so much as a look back.

Looking down at the book, you actually took the time to look at it. A first edition copy of 'Anna Karinina'.

"What did he say? Come on, tell me!" Margary rushed over, animated and full of questions.

"He... gave me this." You gestured to the book and handed it to her without a second thought. The shock of the encounter had left you a little hazy.

"This is a first edition, those aren't cheap!" She looked at you and narrowed her eyes. "What else did he say?"

"I think I need to sit down." The blood rushed to your head, and your knees wobbled. Margary placed the book on the counter and grabbed your arm.

"Easy, girl, come on, easy does it." She pulled out a chair at one of the tables and you sat with a heavy thud. "I observed,"

"You eavesdropped." You looked at her pointedly. Margary huffed.

"I eavesdropped. But I couldn't hear much." She grumbled, tapping her nails on the table. "But I saw how he looked at you."

"How did he look at me?" You squirmed in your seat; not certain you wanted Margary's undoubtedly accurate insight. Somehow it might make it... real... tangible. She leaned forward and looked at you seriously.

"He was practically eye fucking you through the entire conversation." She said with a bit more gravitas than you'd have liked. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you willed your head to stop spinning. "What else did he say?" Her tone was gentler this time, concern shining in her eyes. You sighed heavily and propped your chin in your hand.

"He said I seemed intelligent."

"He's seducing you." She concluded. Your mouth opened and you looked at her as though she'd grown a second head.

"Margary, be serious! A man like Tywin Lannister,"

"My point, exactly." She cut you off, adamantly. "A man like Tywin Lannister, with his reputation, and his well-known disdain for Americans, no offence,"

"None taken." You waived a hand dismissively. "Continue."

"When a man like that starts handing out expensive books and compliments, that's as good as him propositioning you."

"Well, he sure has a funny way of going about seduction, and what do you mean, reputation?" You look up at her before closing your eyes and rubbing your temples.

"You honestly haven't heard the rumors?"

"If I had I wouldn't be asking, would I, Margary." If you'd opened your eyes at that moment, you'd have seen the nasty look she was giving you.

"No need to get snippy with me."

"Sorry." You sighed, dropping your forehead to the table's surface. Placated, she continued.

"He's a terribly mysterious businessman, few people actually know how he makes his money."

"And naturally people imagine the worst and flap their gums."

"Flap their gums?" She blinks, confused. You cracked a small grin.

"Gossip, Margary, gossip."

"Ah, I see. You and your American idioms." She shook her head. "All I'm saying is... tread lightly when dealing with the likes of Tywin Lannister." She reached out and squeezed your hand. Your grin turned wry, and you returned the squeeze before releasing her hand.

"I'll keep that in mind, besides," Pulling away from the table you stood up and shrugged. "What's the likelihood I'll actually end up in his bed?" You both chuckled.

#tywin lannister #tywin x reader #modern au #coffee shop #margaery tyrell #tywin lannister x reader #coffeeshop au

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