but damn i make good omelets

A gift for @amaresempra but also a submission for Otayuri Week Day 4. I think it encompasses all the themes which were Domestic and Long Distance. Takes place in the future, both Yuri and Otabek are adults dealing with the future of their relationship during New Years.

(Warning! NSFW)

Yuri came home to his small flat, shivering with the cold. He sneezed and rubbed his hands together. He lit the fire and set a kettle to boil on the stove. He shrugged out of his heavy coat and hung it by the door. His mailbox was overstuffed. Full of presents and cards from friends and family. Of course, his grandfather had sent her several boxes and Christmas letters. Yuuri and Viktor had sent him a card and a gift. There was a box full of homemade cookies that said they were sent from Makkachin.

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anonymous asked:

Pleaseee write part 10!!!!🙏🙏🙏

*Matthew McConaughey voice* Alright, alright alright…Here’s part 10 of Fratboy Harry. This has been so much fun to write, you guys. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all the love and requests. Unfortunately all good things must come to an end, and I felt like this should be the end of this series. I really hope you enjoy it! I’m dedicating this to my awesome friend @wdmsusie for all of her help, love and support xo.

You awoke with a jolt. Sitting up, you felt a deep burning in your stomach. The room was spinning, and the fact that it was dark didn’t help. For a second you forgot where you were until you recognized the record player and vinyl collection that sat underneath the window.

Bolting out of bed, you ran for the bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet before the vomit rose to your throat. When you thought you’d expelled everything you possibly could, another wave of nausea came over you. As you fell to your knees, you suddenly felt a hand grab your hair, pulling it back out of your face. Your body trembled while another hand rubbed your back. You stayed there on the floor beside the porcelain throne for a few minutes until the sickness subsided. Lifting your head, you wiped your eyes.

“Here,” said Harry, handing you a tissue.

“Thanks,” you muttered, taking it from him to blow your nose.

You rose to your feet, Harry standing with you, his hand still on your back.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice deep and raspy.

“Not really,” you shook your head, though it hurt to do so.

“C’mon. Let’s get you back to bed.”

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me when i didn’t have my own kitchen: man when i have my own kitchen? shit it’s going to be like good eats every god damn day! i’m going to make big omelets and steak and have spices and ingredients and cutting boards, yeah shit’s going to be pretty wild when i have my own kitchen. get a knife block for no reason. so many specialty knives.

me, with my own kitchen, riding the train headed home after work: what am i going make? what do i have? ketchup? special k? no milk? maybe i’ll make…quesadillas out of those old tortillas and slices of american cheese i bought when i went through my grilled cheese phase. am i going to have to turn on the stove for that? that gas stove is the worst. how can i make that in the microwave? american cheese quesadillas. doesn’t sound too bad. 

me in my own kitchen: greek yogurt with a scoop of protein powder mixed in it is!