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fweasleyswhore · 3 years

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Ok this might be a little long so I’m sorry but finals got me feeling some sort of way. So could you do a fic where it’s finals week and the fem!reader is stressed about what of her NEWTS that Oliver doesn’t have and it’s really late in the library, so late that the librarian isn’t even there because the reader had a key to lock up. And Oliver knows the reader has a tendency to lose track of time and work herself to the bone without really noticing. So he stops by the library to pick her up and basically has to carry her out of the library. And he takes her to his dorm instead because he knows everyone else is sneaking out to party and hogsmeade because they’ve finished whatever newts they had and he knows if he took the reader to her dorm she would keep working. And he’s like “you need some stress relief” and he’s touching her leg but she’s so tired and he’s like “you just lay there and let me do all the work” and it’s just a soft romantic smut and he keeps going until she’s exhausted (like she finishes a couple times ~3) I’m so sorry this is so long I just needed to get this out of my mind

a/n: fucking yes, and as someone who is in finals week i just, need that rn, like oliver to fuck me so good and sleep away the stress just, yes so here you go darling! sorry it took me a hot min to get to

general tags: @fredshmeasley @pandaxnienke

oliver tags: @peachyy-em @losers-club6

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, 18+ themes, soft romantic smut, fingering/oral fem recieving, unprotected sex

My eyes hurt but I continued scanning my advanced potion book. My N.E.W.T. was next week and I was one of five students who decided to take this class. I was intrigued by potions, having been all my life, so being able to take the highest level class Hogwarts offered I jumped. Of course, I was not very fond of Snape, or how he treated his students but the subject matter was enough to get me through. I felt the weight of the library key in my pocket as I stood up to put some of my books back. Although my stack was getting smaller it wasn’t yet completely finished.

Adjusting the candle my eyes stung as the light flickered. Despite the pain, I set the candle down opening the chapter Chizpurfle Carapace trying to memorize its effects and uses.

“Thought I would find you here.” The voice made me jump causing the candle to turn over and spill wax all over the table. My shock faded and I was filled with anger, swiveling in my chair prepared to hex whoever caused it. My eyes softened when I saw him.

His tongue in his cheek and a worried expression cast over his face as he examined the area. Silently I watched him pull out his wand, casting a spell under his breath his eyes didn’t meet mine.

“Ollie what are you doing here?” I asked. He shifted on his feet, finally pulling his eyes up to mine.

“Looking for my beautiful girl of course.” His words were accompanied by a cheeky grin, confidence rolling off of him in waves. I felt my face heat up but I pushed my feelings aside turning back to my book.

“I need to study,” I said quietly trying to hide my face under the pages of my book.

“No. You need to rest.” He moved in front of me. Successfully capturing my book is his hands and closing it. Deciding against fighting him, knowing of his iron grip I looked up at him. He looked ethereal in the low candle light, towering over me. A soft smile spread across my face just admiring his features.

“I’m not on the Quidditch team you can’t order me around you know.”

“I damn will try.” His words came out with a half hearted laugh.

“Seriously I need to study, can I-” Right when I reached for the book he pulled it out of my reach, a glint in his eye I couldn’t quite read.

“You can try to fight me for your book back, a fight you will lose. Try to study with another book of which I will take from you and bring you back to option one, or you can come out of this dingy library with me and take a break.”

“But I don’t need a break-”

“Yes. You. Do. Now, up.” He held out his free hand for me to take. Sighing I grabbed it, like a truck I felt the days and tireless hours of study finally catch up to me. I faltered slightly as I stood feeling my body try and weigh myself down like a bag of bricks. “Easy now, I got you.”

I felt his arm slip around my waist, offering more support and I leaned into it. Putting the book down on the desk I was as he grabbed his wand, sending the books back into their proper places.

“Thank you Ollie.” He hummed pressing a light kiss to my temple and led me out of the library. I didn’t pay much attention to walking as he led me away, pushing my face into his chest. I breathed in his familiar and distinct scent. Cinnamon Gum, hints of leather and oak. It made me smile and my stomach flip, the only thing convincing me that it wasn’t a dream being I felt his ever present arms around me.

“Key?” He asked, closing the doors with the arm not around me.

“Pocket, here.” I shoved my hands into my pocket, rummaging around for a second before depositing it in his palm. Our fingers touched and the skin on skin contact made fireworks erupt in my body, the feeling of his hand became more present on my waist as I let my mind wander to the other things his hands can do.

“Cmon, why are you standing there like a statue. Let’s go.” His words snapped me out of my daze and I forced my legs to walk, hiding my face in his shoulder as we walked, trying to diminish the thoughts of him in more precarious ways.

My eyes were half closed as we walked back through the portrait hole, trusting Oliver to dispose of me back in my dorm. Finally I fell back against a bed, letting my body relax into it and blinking around trying to see where we are.

“Is this your dorm?” I asked as he pulled off my boot.

“Yeah, I don’t trust you to not go right back to your books when I leave you alone, also I never minded some company.” Pulling off the other boot, he discarded it on his floor and sat beside me. Pushing some stray hairs away from my face. “Can I help?”

I smiled weakly, leaning into his touch. “No, I’m just really stressed. It will be better after the exams pass.” He hummed. I watched his eyes wander to different points in his room, never staying in one place too long. A cheeky smirk found his face and he stopped his searching looking down at me.

“I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” I leaned up, a shiver of excitement tore through me, waking me slightly.

“Let me help you calm down darling.” His hands stopped playing with my hair, they trailed down to my neck, then my chest and finally my thigh. Where he let his hands trail lightly on the skin, moving in small meaningless patterns leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Ollie, I’m tired.” I reminded, catching his drift. The idea did sound wonderful, I just wasn’t interested in foreplay and giving tonight. The idea felt unfair.

“Let me do all the work, can you let me do that for you darling?” He began grabbing my thigh more roughly, the feeling sent shivers down my spine and my stomach flipped in anticipation. He continued, cocking his eyebrow at me.

“Please.” I gave in, the feeling of arousal winning the fight against my tired state. “I need you.”

“That's what I like to hear.” He laughed before leaning down and catching my lips in a kiss. It was slow but it was enough with his added touch to quicken my heart rate. He brought his hand up my thigh, stroking it softly until he got to my underwear, which most definitely soaked at the point. Running his finger up and down my clothed sex he chuckled lightly, pulling away. My lips tried to follow but he got too far, opening my eyes I caught onto his cocky grin.

“Tired are we?” He teased. I let out a short hiff of annoyance preparing to push back but before I could he had pushed my panties aside, thumbing my clit gently. Letting out a soft moan I relaxed pushing my head into his thigh. Everything drained from my mind at the feeling, my body went limp, twitching at the slightest touch.

“Feel good sweetheart?” I nodded in response unable to conjure up words at the given moment. His fingers sped up at my response, working quickly with my slick to make me see stars.

“So good.” I breathed out. My eyes fluttered open to see him smiling at me, the shit eating grin told me my reactions were feeding his ego but the feeling spreading through my body was enough to distract me from caring. He began to thumb with a little more pressure. I felt my hips buck into his touch on their own accord, meeting his every move with ferocity. His other hand came up to stroke my hair, running through it gently and scratching my scalp with his fingers. The feeling felt amazing paired with his work below.

“Come on baby,” He coaxed, picking up his pace below. “Cum darling, let go.” I nodded, screwing my eyes shut and shoving my face into his thigh I let out a languid moan as he worked me through my orgasm, never stopping the rhythm of his hand. I bucked into his touch until it became too much and my hips fell against the bed, he understood, slowing his hand down and going back to stroking my thigh.

“Thank you.” I whispered, a lazy smile found its way to my mouth, batting my eyes up at him.

“I hope you don’t think I'm done with you yet.” he laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“What is the use of… Fluxweed?”

“It has healing properties but can be used in the Polyjuice potion if your sample is picked on the full moon.” I recounted my knowledge on the subject, my books flooding into my mind. “But what does this have to do with anything right now?”

“I don’t want you to be thinking about that right now, I want you to relax.”

“What did you expect? You asked.” A small giggle escaped my lips before I could stop it. Wishing I did when he glared at me.

“I mean,” He said with an eye roll. “When I am done with you I don’t want you to remember what a potion is.” I gulped at his words, his intentions sending a shiver down my spine, feeling myself growing wetter.

“Then I suggest you get to work.” I challenged. He smirked and changed his position on the bed. Hovering over my I finally got a good look at his face.

“You know I suggest you stop back talking if you want me to do this.” I smiled, leaning up I pecked his cheeks which soon took a rosy glow. “I’ll take that as an apology.” I giggled again as he started crawling down my body, peppering kisses to my abdomen that still tickled even through my clothes.

He settled himself between my thighs, pushing up my skirt, he pressed a few kisses to my hips in doing so. He was gentle as if too much pressure would cause me to shatter.

Hooking his fingers into my panties he pulled them down, I helped him by killing them off.

“So pretty,” Pressing another kiss to my folds I giggled at the contact. “My pretty baby.” He lapped a stripe up my folds, making me moan out and buck into his mouth. His hands were on my thighs, rubbing up and down and holding me in place to stop me from doing that again. He soon attached his tongue to my clit, lapping it and sucking gently every so often. The feeling was indescribable, his mouth was skilled and it made my brain foggy. I felt my orgasm quickly build, the pit in my stomach growing with every second of his teasing.

“Just like that,” I breathed out. My hands travelled up under my shirt, squeezing my breasts with instinct. The added feeling added to the fever growing in my stomach. I picked up my head, I tried to meet his eyes. They were staring intently into mine, pupils dark, almost swallowing his iris, a physical indication of his lust. When our eyes met his pace quickened, his lips surrounded my clit, sucking on it while lapping on it with his tongue. “Ollie!” I screamed his name as I came for the second time, arching my back and screwing my eyes shut in the process. He hummed against my clit, working me through my orgasm. His grip on my thighs tightened as they spasmed and tried to close around him.

Pulling back he rested his head on my thigh, placing chaste pecks to my skin. “You did great baby, can you do another one?”

My eyes widened in shock that he wanted to continue but my core ached for more. “Please?” I asked.

“How about another one on my fingers and then you can have my cock?” He purred.

I nodded feverishly. Excitement growing in my stomach, fueling my arousal.

“Spread your legs baby.” He ordered pushing on my thighs. I pulled them up and to the side of my torso. “So pretty, spread out and wet for me.”

“Only for you.” I whispered back.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He plunged a finger into my dripping heat. I clenched around him from the sudden intrusion, moaning as he curved his finger to hit deep inside me just right.

“You like that?” He sped up his finger as he asked, moving it in and against my walls.

“Yes m-more please.” He chuckled darkly, adding another finger and thrusting them to hit the spot inside of me. I moaned at the contact, he made the connection and began thrusting against the spot with more fever. Intermittently scissoring them to open me up.

I felt my muscles twitch as his speed picked up, my stomach twisted with pleasure. He wrapped his lips around my clit and began sucking while continuing his ministrations below.

“Ollie, ‘m gonna cum.” I breathed out, my hips bucked into his touch. Throwing my head back I came hard onto his fingers, my release making obscene noises against his thrusts.

“So good princess.” He cooed. Pulling his fingers out he picked himself up, situated himself between my thighs. He picked up my shaky legs, wrapping them around his hips. I watched him through heavy eyes, he released his cock from his trousers, pulling it free I noted the precum leaking from his pink tip. The sight making me want to drool.

“You want to keep going baby? We can stop if you want to.” He ran his hands up and down my quivering thighs.

“Want you, inside me.” I whimpered, my brain was cloudy and I felt tired but not completely satisfied and I needed more.

With that he pushed completely inside of me in one thrust. He paused, his hips flush with mine, his pelvis rocked against my clit causing me to clench around his length eliciting a groan from him. “Move.” He did as I asked and began to thrust into me at a slow and sensual pace. He brought his head down attaching his lips to mine, one holding himself up the other gripping my hip as he steadily pumped into me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Seemingly understanding my message he dropped to his forearm, his chest pressing against mine. The feeling was erotic, it made the romantic feeling multiply and his thrusts feel all the more deep I loved it truly.

He attached his mouth to my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses against it. I tangled my hands in his hair, pulling on it each time he hit the spot inside of me. “You're such a beautiful princess.” He whispered against the shell of my ear. I moaned in response, unable to talk back in my brain fog.

He thrusted into me again rocking his hips against me as he bottomed out, rubbing against my clit. The feeling made the coil snap within me. My walls clenched around him as I let out a languid moan. He grunted into my neck, continuing his pace until he stuttered, bottoming out and spilling his seed inside of me. He rocked slowly, fucking his cum inside of me before gingerly pulling out with hiss. I was shaking as he did so, letting out a whine and throwing my head back against his pillows.

I tried to slow my ragged breaths as he laid down next to me.

“Better now?” He asked, running a few fingers through my hair. I nodded breathlessly, swallowing hard. “What is the use of a Fairy Wing?” A faint smile on his mouth as he asked.

“Ollie you know honestly, right now, I don’t care.” I laughed. Eying him from the corner of my vision I couldn’t miss the cocky smile that broke out on his face. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to!”

“Ugh, come here.” He wrapped me in his strong arms, burying my face in his chest I breathed in his scent, his heartbeat was a constant drum that lulled me to sleep, feeling satisfied and safe in his arms.

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jeharvill · 3 years

Text

Hazel Turns Six

Rebecca, this one is for you!

Hazel turned six on the day that California’s most intense stay at home order has gone in effect. We made a plan to invite two friends over on the weekend, and have dinner with Jordan, but like a birthday miracle gifts, cards and surprised visits arrived. I felt really surrounded by love and friendship, and so grateful to everyone who shared love with Hazel. She was absolutely glowing.

Hazel really loves drawing food with faces on them. And she loves eating food with faces on them. I’ve been having fun over the last week that she’s been back at home for distance learning surprising her with different faces in her lunch.

We decided to make a pinata based off of one of her watermelon drawings. The kids loved helping cut and glue the tissue paper onto the watermelon. I love being able to do crafts like this with the kids.

I also bought a bag of polka dot balloons and the kids were so imaginative! Oliver had lots of games. One was that he would get five balloons of the same color, choose one and try to memorize the shape of one dot, and then have me mix up the balloons and he tried to find his special balloon again.

We also filled their bedroom closet with balloons and that was fun. Not pictured was putting the balloons into the shower!

We made a blockade to trap all the balloons at the top of the stairs and then the kids went to the bottom of the stairs and I released the blockade. We called this balloon waterfall.

On the weekend Hazel invited two friends from her new school to our back yard. These are people we’re just getting to know, and it was nice to support her in cementing new friendships. The kids stayed for 90 minutes and were masked the entire time. They made paper wings:

And smashed the pinata. There were goodie bags inside the pinata and everyone was very good about not even trying to eat the candy until they left (to keep masks on).

While Hazel slept we decorated with balloons, birthday cards, and I made a little gallery to celebrate her drawings of food with faces. Lots of people had sent cards and more arrived throughout the day and were added here.

Ellie and her girls sent a packet with many cards and Hazel really loved reading and admiring each one. I noticed how she took time to appreciate and read every card on the string.

The morning of her actual birthday Hazel had a sample pack of sugar cereals and she got to taste them all. We lined up five bowls for each kid and they really enjoyed tasting each one and finding their favorites.

During school there was a “Birthday Circle” where kids shared wishes and drawings for Hazel. Her teacher really talked about how wishes are a gift and that we say “Thank You” for good wishes just as we say thank you for presents in a box. I think Hazel really felt that and she was so happy soaking up wishes from her friends. The wishes were things like “I wish it would rain donuts for you” and “I wish we were two mermaids together”.

After school Jordan came over and Hazel and Oliver did a scavenger hunt where Hazels gifts (from everyone who sent gifts, thank you!!) were hidden around the house. I set up the scavenger hunt at night, and was relieved that no clues or gifts were found during the day.

Hazel’s big gift from us was a “Friends” lego set. She was thrilled. Oliver was thrilled. In the last 24 hours Oliver spends every free moment building Hazel’s lego set, an arrangement they are both happy with.

Christine, Coco and Ulysses surprised Hazel with balloons and some gifts. One of the gifts was a little bird that repeats what you say. Hazel is head over heels for the bird and has it by her side while she’s at dinner or in class.

After it got dark Matt and Holly dropped by with more wonderful gifts and balloons. We all sang to her outside in the fading light.

The doorbell rang and Hazel sprinted to the front door yelling “It’s Miss Robin!” She loves her teacher and I think had a moment of fantasy thinking her teacher had dropped by. It was actually the bakery delivering lemon cupcakes!

This birthday was characterized by spending time with one or two people at a time, and enjoying one gift at a time. Hazel said it was her best birthday ever and I’m not surprised. She is always excited to have a party but overwhelmed and exhausted by them. Getting to connect with one person at a time left her more fulfilled.

Her cupcakes were designed to match her drawings. She helped me decorate the table with some of her favorite toys. Keeping with the food with faces theme we all got out stickers and decorated our dinner with faces.

Here she is while we all sing and she blows out the candles. You can see her big smile. She was really happy. Happy Birthday, Kiddo.

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thelookingglassalice · 7 years

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Simply Meant to Be - Chris and Alysa Part 2 (Previous Chapters here)

Chapter 7-Chris Evans x OC (Alysa)

@emilyevanston @evansscruff @mizzzpink @ariallane @theycallmebecca @avengersimaginings @marvel-lucy @ladyamandapanda12 @mumbles411 @alievans007 @musicalninja @always-an-evans-addict @lillianfromaccounting @daisykane535 @mangolive @mewsiex @chrisevans-imagines @heather-lynn @smoothdogsgirl

(A/N: Okay, so I got over my self loathing of my writing and managed to get through the wedding. The next chapter will be the honeymoon and then I’m closing out Chris and Alysa. However, I may jump ahead to when they add to their family♥)

Once we had a theme things seemed to move in fast forward. We decided that the wedding party would consist of Chris’... our family. It was easier that way. The guest list was small, friends and family. We booked The Heritage Museum and Gardens for September second. Chris and I did have one minor argument about where in the park. We finally agreed that the ceremony would be in the Day Lily Garden. We would take pictures in a place called the Labyrinth. A wedding planner would be assisting us, but we wanted as much control over everything as we could. “I don’t want a crap load of flowers. It’s in a garden,” I sighed and dropped my face into my hands. Chris was across the table from me with Aurora in his lap. Her face covered with the cake samples that had been sent over. “So Aur, what’s the best?” He asked her. “And I agree on the flowers. None for decoration, only in the hair and hands.” “I love you so much.” I exhaled and signed off on the flowers. “Chocolate.” Aur smacked her lips and licked one hand. “Which chocolate?” Chris gestured. “All. All chocolate,” She decided.

It was almost May. I would be spending my birthday trying on wedding dresses in New York with Scar. There were several I liked that she had taken pictures of. We were also getting some ideas for Aur’s birthday in July. She wanted to visit Wose and Scara in New York. I was overwhelmed. Not because of the planning but I had this feeling that I was going to do something wrong. That the wedding would be too lavish and not us. In August we would hit New Orleans for a bachelor/bachelorette party and I could get piss drunk and let go. “I feel like ordering every chocolate cake is excessive.” I leaned over and wiped a finger across her cheek. I tasted the frosting. “Mmm, vanilla chocolate. Yum.” “Is good mama. Is good!” She insisted. “Okay, so we have the cake. Flowers. Now music?” Chris looked at the list. “DJ. I don’t care who, let Shana decide. Invitations?” I rubbed my eyes. “Ma’s got that. Rings?” He countered. “Uh in New York along with the dresses, shoes, and all other jewelry. Carly is handling the hair and make-up people.” “Honeymoon? Oh wait, I got that.” He grinned. I finally cracked a smile and closed the wedding binder. “Let’s be done for today and take Aur to the park. I will lay in the grass and forget I ever agreed to marry you.” I stood up and whistled for Dodger. He’d been eyeing the cake and Aur but he knew chocolate was a no go for him. “That is so romantic. Here, take your chocolate frosted offspring.” He held Aur out to me and I carried her into the kitchen to clean her up. “Mama cake?” Aur asked. “No more Roo.” I shook my head. “Bong bong.” She bounced in my arms. She had recently become obsessed with Winnie the Pooh. She called me Kanga one day and I called her Roo. Every so often it struck me that she had been around for almost two years. She was the catalyst that made my life what it was now. Her mommy, Chris’ fiance...stable and happy. “Let’s go ladies...and Dodger.” Chris grabbed his NASA hat and pulled it on before clipping the dog’s leash. We walked to the park a few blocks away. Aur alternated between walking and riding on Chris’ shoulders. Her hair was loose and waving in the breeze, she leaned her chin on Chris’ head as she looked towards the park. I snapped a picture with my phone. “Mama, no pictures!” She frowned. “I think she’s still a little scarred from our last trip to LA.” Chris patted her hand. The media rounds for the last Marvel movie had been tough. We only had to be in LA for two days but we were hounded. The wedding announcement was out, Aur was more visible. The media scrambled to get pictures of her. The only time the public ever saw her was on Twitter, we were less noticed in Boston. The barrage of cameras had scared her and she started to cry, burying her face in Chris’ neck. Of course that just made them want more pictures. The comments on the pictures were not kind. Some people blamed me for keeping her secluded. Some people offered to come be a ‘real mom’ for Chris’ daughter. Others speculated that she was just spoiled and needed to deal with it. We reached the park and Aur went to the equipment to play. Chris followed her and I ran around with Dodger for a little. I wandered back to the equipment in time to see Chris try to go down a slide. His feet hit the ground while his head was still at the top of the slide. “Daddy stuck.” Aur was sitting at the top of the slide and shoving on Chris’ head. I trotted over and grabbed her with Dodger’s leash around my wrist. “You okay there?” I asked Chris. “I have a feeling that this is going to end badly.” He scooted his butt down the slide, trying to get his head free from the enclosed top. Aur and I watched as he finally wriggled his way out and landed on the ground. “Yay!” Aur clapped. “Yeah, way to go daddy. Feel old yet?” “I’m Captain America,” He whined and fell to his back. Aur slid down and went over to him and patted his head. “Okay daddy. Play now.” She leaned over his face. “Daddy is old, play with mama,” He groaned. “I don’t know if I wanna be marrying someone so old,” I teased and sat on his legs. Aur giggled and sat on his chest. “I’m two years older than you.” He tilted his head up and spread his arms out in a ‘what the hell’ gesture. = “Blow out the candles!” Chris bounced Aur on his lap as she eyed the cake. It was July. I didn’t realize how fast May and June had passed. But the wedding was rushing up on us. We had celebrated in New York the past weekend, today was the birthday party at Lisa’s house with the family. “Ice cream.” Aur held out her hands and gestured. “Make a wish baby.” I pointed to the candles. “Come on big girl.” Lisa added. Soon everyone was encouraging her to get it over with. She thought it was hilarious and started to laugh wildly, clapping. “Look over there!” Scott yelled from behind Chris and pointed. Everyone looked and when we returned our eyes to the cake the candles were out. “Yay!” Aur cheered and stood on Chris’ lap to pat Scott’s chest. “Scott Scott.” “Did you just steal her wish?” I frowned at Scott. “She’s two. She wishes for ice cream and cake.” Scott picked her up and high fived her. “Your next birthday she gets to blow out the candles.” Chris leaned back in his chair. “You are not invited to New Orleans anymore.” I stuck my tongue out at Scott. “I’m the best man...how do I get disinvited from the bachelor party?” “You pissed off the bride.” Shana called over from where she was playing with the kids. Aur scrambled down to go play with her cousins. “I’m the groom’s brother.” “I’m gonna side with her. I paid a shit load for the honeymoon.” Chris shook his head. The closer we got to the wedding the more relaxed I was. According to everyone, that was the opposite reaction to be having. But all the decisions were made, now it was just about getting married. Who gives a shit if things go wrong? As long as we ended the day married with lots of pictures of our family and friends, I was happy. - “I can’t believe they thought a joint party would be tamer.” My eyes widened as I looked at the pictures Scott kept sending to me. He’d been sending one once a day since the New Orleans trip. We were on our way to the hotel near the wedding venue. Aur was in the backseat singing to Dodger as Chris drove. The family was following us. Tonight was the rehearsal and dinner then tomorrow...the wedding. “I woke up with no pants, wearing your shirt.” Chris frowned. “You woke up with pants and a shirt made from beads. That’s tame for New Orleans.” “Oh, look at that. You gave me a lapdance.” I tilted my head, examining the newest picture. “Good, at least we know why my pants were gone.” Once we got to the hotel it was Aur’s naptime. She was over excited with everything going on and the terrible two’s were in full force. I entered the hotel room to find Chris walking her around and crooning softly. He was singing “Good Company” from 'Oliver and Company'. Aur had become obsessed with it when she learned Dodger was in it. “She told me that the Patriots were dumb butts and passed out.” Chris made a face and carried her into the bedroom area. “Ouch. She’s going for the throat.” I laughed and started to get Aur’s dress for tomorrow hung up. She had chosen a pretty cream colored dress with lace and would have a wreath of flowers in her hair. My dress was in the closet, I would have to wait until after the rehearsal dinner to get it out. Chris would be rooming with Scott, Aur and I would be in this room. “I’m not looking forward to those teen years.” He tsked and sat down in a chair. “Her vocabulary will be bigger and more insulting.” I sat on his lap and leaned my head on his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to be busy as fuck and stressed out.” “You have a wedding planner to do that for you.” He patted my leg. I could tell he was stressed out. His anxiety was really on him today. I ran my hand through his hair. “Is it time for the honeymoon?” I asked. He started to laugh and grabbed his chest. I had been springing the question on him randomly. “We’re making us official tomorrow and you’re interested in the honeymoon?” He continued to chuckle. “Not to sound like the ice queen I am, but you’re the one who wants the spectacle. In my mind we’ve been official since I agreed to marry you.” I shrugged. “We did it all out of order. Baby carriage, then admission of love, then the marriage.” “There will be another carriage but yes, we are a little unorthodox. But I wanted to include everyone and thank you for indulging me.” He gave me a peck on the lips and smacked my ass so I would get up. “Do you have your groomsmen presents?” I asked. “Yeah, we give those at the dinner right? They wear them at the ceremony?” Chris frowned. “Plus the kids’ presents.” Aur, Dodger, and the nieces and nephews were all in the wedding. All Chris’ siblings and his parents were too. That was the extent of the wedding party. It was only family. “This is going to be a circus.” Chris smiled to himself. “I know. I’m hoping whoever is in charge of Aur and Dodger can keep them from the water feature at the ceremony.” I stopped to think about that. I made note to warn their handlers. “What do we do now?” Chris was sort of fidgeting, hands in his pockets. “Get ready for the rehearsal and dinner. Why are you so edgy?” “I’m not edgy.” He stopped in mid pace. “Are you worried that I’ll escape in the middle of the night and not show up tomorrow?” I was gathering the bridesmaids gifts and getting Aur’s diaper bag organized. “I am now.” He made a face. “Babe, it’s okay. Do you want me to have the marriage certificate signed now? Cause I’ll do it.” I put everything down and pointed at him with one hand on my hip. “That’s only a threat if the guy hasn’t been trying to marry your ass for ten years.” - The rehearsal and dinner went smooth. The photographer got a lot of great pictures mostly of the kids playing in the garden with the dog. Chris got Aur and me back to our room and kept finding reasons to stay. “Come on, we agreed to spend the night apart.” I poked him with my toe. He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Aur was styling his hair for tomorrow. She wasn’t that thrilled that she had to get her hair pretty tomorrow, so Chris was letting her vent on his head. “But my stylist isn’t finished. How’s it look little bit?” “Good. Pony clips pitty.” Aur brushed at one of the My Little Pony clips with colored hair extensions placed in Chris’ hair. “Is pink and pupol.” “Awesome. It’ll match my suit.” “I thought our theme was blue?” I frowned. “I thought it was...nature? Is that a color scheme?” Chris scrunched up his face, concentrating. “There’s pink and purple in nature...and blue.” “So the theme is rainbow.” I nodded. “Now makeups daday.” Aur suggested. “I think I’ll pass. I’d just have to remove it to sleep.” Chris unfolded his legs and stood, his fake hair waving. “You cannot have better hair than me tomorrow. You’ll have to take out your extensions.” “You’re just jealous.” He tossed his fake hair before kissing us goodnight and leaving. “Daday pitty.” Aur smiled and crawled into my lap. “Yes, you made him very pretty Roo. As soon as they sing the ‘Hot Dog’ dance it’s bed time.” I hugged her to me and watched Mickey and Goofy on the TV. Once Aur was down I pulled out my dress. It was strapless and cream colored with an overlay and train of flowers and small crystals. It would be beautiful in the garden setting. It was long enough that I could wear flat sandals, thank God. I wasn’t that excited to walk all over the turf in heels. I looked at the dress for a while. This was actually going to happen. No one was getting cold feet. No tragedies or dramas. I was marrying Chris, as much as I tried to make him see I wasn’t worth it, he persisted. I got the wedding band out of my purse. It was a white gold ring to match my engagement ring. On the inside I had them engrave ‘I love you’ and ‘Dor’. “Oh boy.” I breathed. - “Okay Alysa. Are you ready?” “Do I have to walk slow? I really hate people staring at me.” I was pacing and gripping my small bouquet of stargazer lilies. With all the fussing I was doing I was shocked that my hair didn’t move. I would have to send an extra tip and thank you to the hairdresser. My hair was half up with a silvery wreath, the rest was waved down my back. My only jewelry was my Christmas bracelet, some silver earrings, and my engagement ring. “Aren’t you an actress?” The coordinator asked. “Yes, but when you’re in a film the audience isn’t staring at you.” I growled at her and she stepped back. My music started, ‘Storybook Love’ from ‘The Princess Bride’ and I exited the small tent. The sunlight hit me and I heard the guests make various murmurs of admiration. I started to give my standard awards ceremony smile then dropped it. I sort of smirked instead. I was nervous, but this was our day. I could do what I wanted. I looked to the end of the makeshift aisle. Chris stood on the top of the few stone steps. Aur was in his arms and she was sucking on her thumb as she watched me approach. Chris was talking to her and watching me. He was doing it so he wouldn’t cry. If he focused on Aur he could keep his emotions in check. He had come to that conclusion when I kept teasing him about how emotional he was. I didn’t have that luxury and I was holding back tears like a motherfucker. “Mama.” Aur was delighted when I finally got to them and wrapped an arm around my neck. She pulled me and Chris together and the crowd awed. “Hey.” Chris greeted me. “What’s up?” I nodded and kissed Aur’s cheek. Chris leaned over and placed Aur at our feet on the steps. She sat with Dodger at her side, messing with a toy Lisa handed her. The officiant started. We wanted the ceremony to be short and we wrote our own vows. We included several mentions to our family. The wedding party was crying by the end. Aur was falling asleep on Dodger. And I was ready to be done. I was ready to kiss my husband. - “I’m married!” Chris yelled from the dance floor. “Yeah you are.” I was sitting at a table with Scarlett and Lisa, my feet propped up on Scar’s lap. We each had our children asleep on our chests. “He’s enjoying himself.” Scar watched as the photographer took some snaps of Chris and the guests. "Did he drink all the drinks?" “He’s numbing the pain of being away from Aurora for 3 days. He figures that if he’s drunk he won’t miss her right away.” I kissed Aur’s forehead and she hummed in her sleep. Lisa was all smiles, content that Chris and I finally met our endgame. “She ready to come to grandma’s house?” “Yeah. She finally crashed from all the excitement.” It was 10 pm. The youngsters were being taken home by their parents. The party wouldn’t go on much longer. Chris and I had to be at the airport by five am. We still had to go home, change, grab our stuff, and get to the airport. “Your husband needs to sober up before the flight.” Lisa watched her son. “I think he can do it in 7 hours. I stocked the car with Gatorade.” I laughed. “Disney World, then Disneyland, then Hawaii. He’s ambitious.” Scar giggled. “I think he just wants to get laid in both parks. Hawaii is for me, but it is the Disney resort so…” I shrugged. “I’m going to get Chris to say goodbye.” Lisa went onto the dance floor. “I got you to marry me.” Chris taunted as he came over with his arm around his mom. “Good job baby.” I blew him a kiss. “Do you have everything you need, Lisa?” “Her daddy has my house fully stocked sweetie. She could live there for a year and I wouldn’t need to buy her anything. ” Lisa reached for the diaper bag as I hugged Aur and kissed all over her face. Scarlett shifted Rose as I stood up. “She’s my little bitty nugget and she deserves everything.” Chris swayed and his mom steadied him. “I’m so glad she’s coming on the honeymoon.” “Chris! That was a surprise.” Lisa groaned. “Aw, baby. ” I pulled him into a hug and he laid his head on my chest next to Aur. “I figured she was showing up at some point. No way he could go more than a week without her. You meeting us in Cali?” “Yes. We’re doing our family trip and then seeing you off to Hawaii.” Lisa made a face at Chris. “You didn’t want to bring her to Hawaii, babe?” I asked my husband, who was kissing Aur’s nose over and over. She slapped at him. “Kinda, but we need to start trying for another one so we gotta have alone time.” He nodded. “With your mother right here, nice one drunk Chris.” I smiled at Lisa. “Lemme seep. Bye bye go.” She pushed at Chris. “Daddy, top!” “She’s probably getting a contact high.” Scarlett raised her eyebrows as I said good-bye to Aur. “Come here. Grandma will save you.” Lisa kissed Chris as she reached for Aurora. I handed her over and stretched my back. “You two have fun. I love you both and be safe.” Lisa kissed me and joined the parent exodus. We had been prepping Aur for us going away. I mean, she was used to it but still...it sucked. I was happy she would meet us in Disneyland. She had only been there once before when she was littler. “Let’s go.” Chris wrapped his arms around me and tried to pick me up. “What?” “Let’s go. We’re getting another one started. I told you.” He stumbled and we both almost fell over. “How many fingers am I holding up?” I asked. “Up where?” He grinned. “I can’t be here for this. I love you guys. Glad you two finally got your shit together.” Scarlett hugged us and wandered off. “My husband is such a charmer.” “I think him singing 80’s movie songs bombed was the highlight of the night. But that seems to be what we do at weddings.” Scott came over, he was also weaving a little. “I didn’t mind the singing. When he tried to channel Tom Cruise in ‘Cocktail’ and threw a bottle at you was a bit much.” I tilted my head. “Help. We gotta get going.” Scott helped to drag Chris into the tent where I had gotten ready. We set him in a chair and I shoved a lock of hair off my face. “He’s just happy because he’s got what he’s wanted since he was in puberty. He gets to introduce himself as your husband.” Scott snickered as I turned and gestured for him to unzip my dress. “Oh yeah, I’m a hell of a catch. You’re taking all this back tomorrow in my car right?” I gestured to my dress and all the other wedding shit. Presents, flowers, and so on. “Yeah. I got it. I’ll see you in Cali.” Scott gave me a smacking kiss on the cheek and left, running into a table as he left. “C’ mere.” Chris grabbed me around my waist and pulled me back to him in the chair. “You’re so pretty.” “You are too.” I started to pull pins from my hair and scratched my head. “No, I mean. All this lingerie stuff. It’s so pretty and lacy and soft.” He was petting the corset I had worn under my dress and the boyshort panties that matched. “Bring it with us!” “I will pack it in my overnight bag, ” I promised. “Why won’t you have sex with me?” He whined. “Because we have a flight in 7 hours. I have to drive to the airport and sober you up. Not to mention everyone we know is right outside the tent. Yo Shana!?” I called. “Yeah?!” She called back. “Nothing! See?” I asked Chris. I patted his cheeks and kissed him. “If you were more quiet.” He grumbled as I changed into a maxi-dress and pulled my hair up. “What can I say, you drive me wild.” He had removed his tie and jacket. I grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “Let’s go big boy. I’ll make it up to you.”

#chris evans fanfiction #chris and alysa #chris evans x oc

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lighthouseofthewanderess · 5 years

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Food

(Noun): any nutrition the living being needs in order to sustain and grow.

Part 1: Hunger.

I’ve realized that food is just a vast concept to grasp. There’s the ingredients, the actual cooking, the tasting. More complicated words like Gastronomy can be thrown in with food as well. So many methods to cook the same thing, so many recipes floating around or rotting away with the grandmas of the world. I will never be able to fully understand it; only grasp it here and there. That’s why I’ve decided to take you on my culinary journey through life, starting with food that wasn’t even there. A privilege.

The first thing I consciously remember having was Cerelac. Blessed be milk powder, really. But I had stolen this bowl. It was meant for an infant in the house, the ‘big house’ that I was dragged into for my staged birthday picture. Heart beating out my little rib cage, I sat under the bed and made sure I was extra safe before indulging in the first spoonful. It melted away in my mouth, and my knotted stomach opened up to welcome it. Its textures comforted my taste buds, this was possibly the best thing in the world. How very different from the kanji that I get in the servant quarters. And that pickle that came along with it? So acidic that it burned sometimes. Though I was found out and given a good beating, I told myself it was all worth it. Even on nights that I went hungry, all I had to do was remember that sweet moment and my stomach would be easily tricked into satisfaction.

Malnutritioned and unkempt, I could easily pass off as a kid on the street. And for twisted reasons that are beyond me, my father and his family liked to see me this way. I was made to stay with the servants and one of them would walk me to school and back. The big house was out of the question. I sometimes even felt like a court jester, brought to show face to the visitors, to recite my alphabets, or write from 1 to 100. Fruit would be passed around, but I wasn’t allowed to touch it. Were apples juicy? I wouldn’t know. What’s inside a grape? I wouldn’t know. Every time I set foot into the house I hoped I would stay the night, I sometimes dozed off even; always finding myself wake up in the quarters. A year or two flew this way, food always staying within my sight but out of reach. I yearned to eat it all, taking my own sweet time. Have patience. Someone rang my mom up and told her,

“Something’s wrong with your daughter. I … I think it’s better you ask your husband about it.” My mom was confused. Why? She was speaking with me over phone, she saw pictures too.

“Priya isn’t just malnutritioned, she’s lost. She doesn't talk when you talk to her. She doesn’t even smile. Just trust me, have her with you in the US.” Fast forward through the haircut, the reunion at the airport, and the house with wooden walls. We are now at the exact moment I had a real meal. Rasam, rice, beans poriyal, and yoghurt.

My mom sat kneeling opposite me while the neatly arranged plate of food sat waiting for me to devor. But I just couldn’t. I didn’t know how to eat it all. Funnily, my mom thought I didn’t like her food. I waited till she served herself, and then watching her, I slowly curved my fingers around the warm, soft, fluffy rice and had the first bite. After that, I just couldn’t stop. I pulled out all the vegetables, the curry leaves, the tempering and gobbled up all the rice.

“That’s bad manners” my mom say=id. “You have to eat everything.” Oh wait, these were eatable? (Edible was a word I learnt maybe years later.) With mom I tasted so much more, that it made me feel like I was truly living life.

When we went grocery shopping, my mom would tsk at the prices of coriander leaves, pudina, and the little things had go into the authentic flavor of our food.

“The vegetables here are tasteless. You’ve felt it too, yes?” my mom asked as we picked out the groceries. I nodded like I knew how vegetables even tasted like. The cool mist from the invisible pipes in these grocery sections fascinated me. I removed my gloves, put one hand in and pulled it out. Like another world. I glanced at all the items in the open cooler; so many boxes, so many colors of things that people just ate? How did that even work. When I looked around my mom had piled up veggies onto the cart and at the exact moment my stomach gave a huge growl. I guess this is how, the stomach just asks for it.

Shopping was one of the fun things I liked to do. I’d find a cart, give a little push and hoist myself up on the cart as I zoomed past the aisles reading out the list. At the end of an aisle I’ll wait for mom to pick out the items I called out. If I got lucky, there would be free treats at the corner aisles, people handing out funny tasting samples. And this is how I met the two staples of my then life: Texas Garlic Bread and Frozen Mini Pizzas. Why was this hidden from me for so long! The Garlic Bread would sizzle with all that butter as it did pirouettes inside the microwave. Garlic always tickled my nose and sent a secret message to my stomach that would make it flip in anticipation. The Mini Pizzas on the other hand, had pork and I never even knew. I believed it to be chicken and hogged my way through it all. This is also how I chanced upon the world of cereals and pop tarts: sugary things that just hit the spot, you know? Cheerios. Lucky Charms. String Cheese. Sliced Ham. Pitted Black Olives. There was no knowing when food was going to hit me with it’s next best thing.

I wanted to eat a little bit of everything, and I didn’t care if I couldn’t finish it. I just had to taste it. My mom found it all too overwhelming, how her kid turned out to be a greedy little pig. She controlled what I ate without knowing that life was just Kanji and Lemon Pickle for me until I came here. She would never buy the frozen dinners that you just heat up and eat, and never the yellow luncheon boxes that almost every kid in school brought. “But why...” I wailed. “I like the little compartments, and that Cheddar Cheese, the Crackers, and the…” my mom cut me off short.

“Because that is not real food. You have a family, and you get good food that is cooked with love. These boxes don’t mean a thing, they’re an excuse for mothers who can’t cook for their own children. You are blessed enough to be healthy.” Woah. Some volcano just erupted and the only thing I knew after that was to stick to the sambar the kootu and occasionally treat myself to the Chicken Buffalo Wings (how could I forget) in the freezer when mom came home late from work. I wasn’t averse to Banana. I was averse to the idea of eating it every day. I was caught up in the world of food, and a nation that had 90% of its population on the brink of obesity. So when my mom placed a banana alongside the too-big bowl of cereal, I’d frown at it. I started talking to Mr. Banana when mom wasn’t looking, saything stuff like “Not today” , “Na na, Banana” -- the only thing this one-sided conversation resulted in, was rejection. For Mr. Banana ended up at the bottom of the garbage bin every day. Somedays, I even dug out a little trash to place him safely, deep inside, so that mom won’t ever find out. But mothers always do. Uh-oh.

“Do you know what a banana even costs?” my mom was upset, but trying to keep her calm.

“Do you how privileged you are to have three meals a day?” Of, course. I hardly had a meal earlier.

“Some people live on bread, do you know that?” Sounds better than kanji.

“In fact kuttima, all I used to get at your father’s house was a milk bun. Every day, that’s all I had when you were just born.” Wait what? I looked at my mom when she said that, and I could tell she was wishing she could press pause on motherhood so she can just let somethings out. I could sense these things and so I held her hand and said “What mom? Just a bun?”

That broke her dam and she spoke of how even when she was a lactating mother, she had just a bun rationed out to her. When I started eating, she would break off a quarter for me from that same bun and survive on the rest. I was a kid, I don’t have a big stomach. But for someone who is used to proper meals to go hungry; what a shame. She didn’t have to repeat anything about the banana after that. Or wasting any food for that matter. We’re so used to reaching out and having something to munch on. Opening the refrigerator and fixing a sandwich. Unlocking the phone and ordering an evening snack. What happens when that option is not even there. It is a scary thought. And what of stress eating, mindless eating, eating because it is there in front of you, eating because someone passes it to you. A privilege. That’s when I made up my own meaning for the word. Years after I was no longer malnutritioned, the aisles of baby food would put me right back in my place. Hunger: A state of mind. And lucky are those who never feel the kind that almost kills them.

Part 2 - Taste

Me hating men is an established fact. Don’t worry, I don’t hate them now. But the only thing that I hate about hating men is that they are amazing cooks. I used to try and limit my interactions with my mom’s friends and my relatives too. Then came the day when I realized I have to forgive all men for something that can be pinned only on my father. Someone who cooks so well, cannot be a bad person. I know what you’re thinking, save it; my mind is a weird place.

Aparna aunty lived somewhere in the wilderness. 13 hairpin bends later, you would find her house nestled into the side of a mountain. Three floors of sprawling space, just for her and her husband. And almost every room overlooked the woods. When we visited them, we usually stayed over. Her husband was the cook of the family… and he always checked with my mom what I liked so that there would be no typical 8-year old dinner fuss. I remember the first time I tasted his food. It was just a Curry of Lima Beans, Coconut and some Spices. He sat at the head of the table, and I on the other end. Food was served and I tucked in, eating my way through the morsels, feeling the way the beans mashed up easy and the hint of coriander spice through it all. I was so lost in enjoying my food that I almost muted out one sentence. The sentence.

“Rajeev is an excellent cook. Can you blame me for not learning?” Aparna aunty giggled and looked at her husband as she took her next bite. While she chewed, I slowly stopped chewing. This was made by a guy? Oh no. The paradoxes of life.

“Priya ma, do you like what I’ve cooked?” That sentence was directed at me now. My mom looked at me with guarding eyes, suspecting that something was coming. She wouldn’t have been prepared for what I did next. I shook my head to signify a no, got up and left the rest of my plate untouched.

“I hate you, and I hate your food.” I looked at him dead in the eye and shouted the words. And I can still feel the hurt behind the still, calm eyes. My mom immediately moved in to whisper and correct what I had said, but Rajeev uncle stopped her. “It’s ok. Taste is subjective. In food and in people.” Later on that night, I thought long and hard. That lima bean was on my mind. It did taste so good, I told myself. What if I made an exception. Just this one guy? It didn’t seem harmless at all. Later on Pradeesh Uncle would be the second person on this list of exceptions and then slowly some more. I made up with Rajeev uncle, and in return I was treated to a feast every time we went there. It got me thinking, if it wasn’t for that food I would’ve never known what an amazing person he is. Then I realized that some of my lighthouse moments in life were with food. What a surprise. Food helped me mark some important memories.

Like the time we went to IHOP and I discovered a Garden Omelette. My mom was talking about an expiring Visa to Pradeesh Uncle at that time. Or the Halloween Spider Cookies at my Scout teacher’s house. She was telling my mom about how marrying someone and living off on alimony isn’t such a bad option. Or the HashBrowns hat Pradesh Uncle made in his university room. He was lying on the phone to his parents about mom and me not being there. Some good memories, some neutral, and some just bad. When I first had Vadagam, a fry-yum sort of thing, I almost broke down. It was a repressed memory surfacing, and this harmless vadagam was the trigger. It reminded me of how when I was in Chennai, I was sent up to the terrace to make sure the crows didn’t come pecking at the vadagams. Most families made it at home, and left it to dry out under the blistering sun. They check up on it now and then, but I was there the whole time, starving, looking at the thing and wondering how it tasted. I knew if I did try to take one, I would be reprimanded badly. The sun was blistering hot, and it was getting all too bright. I tried my luck and walked down the steps to where my father was shaving his beard.

“It’s too hot to stay on top. Can I check later?” He glanced at me and didn’t say a word. I repeated the question, this time a little louder. Still no answer. But at that high pitched voice, my grandma came running out and slapped me hard.

“Go back and stay up there till I call you down. If you don’t I’ll skin you and leave you also up there with the vadagams.” Well, it was worth a try. I climbed up sulking and sat there tasting my spit and blood and wondering if these vadagams were any better. I guess that’s why when I really tasted one, I cried out of happiness that it was so much better than my expectation. So much.

From then on, when I want to relive a certain moment, I would try and remember what I ate. Get my hands on it and relish every bite, travelling back in time blissfully. Papa John’s takes me back to the watery Garlic Dip I would pour over every pizza, sitting in front of the TV. Chicken Pot Pies take me back to my ballet classes, when I would eat one right after school and before class. Krispy Kreme doughnuts take me back to the 4th of July when there were special red-white-blue sprinkles. The second I taste it, the moment rushes through me like colors after a happy pill. Food was so pivotal. What was I doing just eating it? Taste: A mastery that needed to be learnt to recreate a moment. To make someone feel something with every bite.

Part 3 - Flavor

“Don’t stab the vegetables! Cook with love otherwise no one will digest what you cook.” my mom yelled as she passed by the kitchen. This is a theory, and I hate to agree that it sometimes makes sense. Food tastes better with the secret ingredient of love - not for the person eating it, but for the process itself. “Fine!”I yelled back, carefully turning the Arbi and letting it roast evenly. I have told my mom time and again, not to comment on how I should be cooking, not to even enter the kitchen when I’m making a meal. She does it anyway; secretly I know that she wants to know what tricks I use.

I started cooking when I was in 2nd grade. Mackenzie and I made Noodles. We took an hour to chop up the vegetables finely, and then dropped them into boiling hot water. My mom took a picture of us cooking the entire thing and eating it too. After that I started helping mom out in the kitchen. She wouldn’t let me cook anything just yet, but I could cut the vegetables, rinse the spinach.

“No mom. I want to do the actually cooking; near the stove kinda cooking.” I was complaining away again.

“Help is help. You don’t get to pick. And listen - cooking is everything. From the cutting to the cleaning up afterwards.” came my mom’s curt answer. I stuck around and watched what she did, making up a mental recipe for each dish. One day, when she was late to come home, I made Rasam. I made it with rice and surprised her. She just smiled from ear to ear and asked to be taken through the process. I had messed up the tempering, but it was definitely a start. Eggs, toast and the simpler stuff came later. I just plunged into the family basics. Chicken Curry. Pumpkin Pulli Kozhambu. Tomato Rice. Potato Fry. I was surprised how if I followed the exact proportions, the exact order, and the exact time limit for each step - I could remake most dishes in the exact flavor. And when grandma came over we, it turned into a riot. Jalebis. Cheeniurundai. Samosas. Cooker Cake. The air would turn sweet and I would imagine sticky webs against the walls of the kitchen. Mom came home to a different delicacy each day and cursed god for the free time we both had to casually spend it on cooking. We would grin at each other sheepishly and serve her more of the day’s special.

If had more time on my hands, I would first look up a recipe online and try making it at home. Try and introduce it into our daily lives. Sometimes the experiment backfired, or went undercooked. Sometimes I gave myself a challenge to make a feast out of with the limited items at the end of the week. Whichever way I looked at it, cooking wasn’t a task. It was almost therapeutic. And it just cannot be rushed. Flavor was a secret; it lied in the hands that touch each ingredient the careful measure of masalas, and the patience that hung around the plate waiting to be served upon. And flavor was shy yet demanding; if you talk over the phone when cooking or skip a step you might as well turn the dish into something else. Cooking for just mom and me, I got used to the 2-person proportion for most dishes. When I had guests over, I got anxious doing the math. I would stress over it so much that I could feel the dish’s identity crisis. But if I went about it with some music in the background, improvised as I went along, it always turned out great. There’s another thing I learnt about cooking. Sometimes you make it others and not yourself. Those times, it’s bound to get a little tricky. While it is true to cook something to one’s taste, the method to the madness has to be yours. The more of you in it, the better it gets.

“Love it, and it will love you back.” my grandma used to say. She didn’t realize I took words too literally. Flavor: The secret ingredient that often comes from within you and makes all the difference.

#nanowrimo #nano 2018 #nano writing #writers #writedaily #loveforwriting #wrimo #writing challenge #day5 #hunger #food #flavor #taste

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