#and forgot to put notches in her to give her a little travel pack

[hyydraworks]

All the assembled Strawberry friends before they went off to their new homes!

[1kook]

baecation

Jeon Jeongguk x (F) Reader

summary⥗“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart. tags⥗richboy!jk, -3 knowledge of how vacations work, domestic love!!!, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, fingering, jk’s white ass cheeks mention wc⥗5.9k u ever randomly get inspired for the first time in 2 months and write a whole fic in one night anyway enjoy

There were many perks to dating the heir of your city’s top conglomerate, the endless showering of gifts being one of them, but your favorite thing about your boyfriend wasn’t his overflowing pockets or his secure future, but the lovesick look in his eyes when you told him how much you loved him.

Jeongguk was an enigma.

He was born to be the stereotypical rich boy that authors of teen fiction could only dream of, his looks suitable for magazine covers and his brains destined for top-notch universities. His bloodline was carefully crafted by generations before him, every marriage carefully planned and executed with the ultimate goal to preserve their place in society as apex predators. In fact, Jeongguk’s entire life had been one big script his family had carefully pushed him along, from the fencing classes he took to the hiring of the nation’s best nannies to care for him, all subtle enough for him to not complain but demanding enough that he knew what was going on.

The only thing they hadn’t planned in Jeongguk’s life was him meeting you.

They had never planned for him to meet some middle-class girl, who was definitely not an heiress to any particular company or celebrity of any level, just some random girl he had accidentally bumped into leaving a charity event at the local community park. They hadn’t planned for his long, gangly arms to knock your phone out of your hand, or send it tumbling into the lake as you both watched on in horror. It was only after the quiet plop of water registered in both your ears that you had whirled on him, half of you in shock and the other in fury.

Jeongguk was, as previously stated, handed everything on a silver platter. His parents hardly bothered with teaching him how to do things. He barely understood how to work a washing machine, because all of that was done for him by other people. At the moment, he didn’t have to bother with taking an entrance exam to the best university this side of the country because he knew his parents would pay for the entire thing out of pocket. He especially didn’t ever have to worry about what to do when random girls scolded him in public sight, because frankly, it would never happen.

Yet here he was, completely startled as you told him to watch where he was going, and to learn how to apologize to people when you’ve done something wrong. He’d never had someone of a lower status than him treat him so aggressively before, and when you pause to catch your breath all he can stumble out is that he’ll replace your phone, he’ll even buy you the best model, what was your number so his people could reach out to you again?

The last sentence has you groaning in frustration, as you pointed furiously towards the lake, because how on earth was he supposed to contact you when your phone was 20 feet below surface level?!

After another fifteen minutes of you continuing your verbal rampage against him, the entirety of it which he’d spent fending off his security guard and his assistant (both who’d been appalled that he’d willingly let this peasant swear and curse at him) as he stared at you in awe.

When you finally calmed down and he’d offered to take you to the Starbucks across the street to figure out the details of your phone replacement, he’s surprised to find out your normal disposition is nothing like the one you’d first shown him. In fact, you’re rather sheepish and embarrassed at the coffee shop, albeit still a little upset with him for trashing your phone.

After you’ve finished nailing out the little details of your phone replacement, which included you hesitantly giving him your address, he leaves right away. He’s sad to leave so soon, having become completely enthralled with your entire being in the thirty minutes he’s come to know you, that he finds himself hopelessly staring out of the backseat of the Benz as he travels back to his upscale apartment in the heart of the city. He hopes you don’t forget him so soon.

To say you’re surprised to see a package on your doorstep the next morning is an understatement. You remember every online purchase you make, and if memory serves you right, you hadn’t made one in the past month to warrant its arrival today. After glancing down both ends of your hall, you tug the mystery package inside.

In hindsight you probably should have been more cautious of the entire situation, but part of you was extremely curious to see what brought this surprise on. After tugging the tape off and shuffling through the packing peanuts you’re met with a sleek box for the hottest and most expensive phone right now, a pink bow carefully tied around to secure a note.

One of our guard’s fished around the lake for the phone I misplaced and managed to retrieve the memory card. I hope you won’t mind the new contact I added.

Best,

Jeon Jeongguk

And thus was the start of your love story.

-

You’re wondering if Jeongguk’s sudden idea was truly a spur of the moment epiphany or another ploy for him to get out of going to the ball his father had planned at the end of this month. You’ve come to learn in the last two years that despite his perfect boy aura, he was quite the impulsive shithead. Eitherway, you know he would have invited you to wherever he was going, and if he hadn’t, his mother would have shipped you a gown from her favorite designer and asked you to drag him there.

As it stands, it’s not a fancy ball you’re preparing for this time around, but a luxurious spring break in the Bahamas, away from school and family and anything to ruin your mood for the next week. You’d just finished your midterms when he bursts into your dorm room, demanding you pack your bags, baby, we’re going to the beach! Evidently, it was not the local beach you were going to. No, the ‘beach’ Jeongguk had referred to was one he conveniently forgot to mention was an entire plane ride away. It wasn’t until he returned later that same day to usher you off to the airport that he realizes how sorely under packed you are.

So now here you were, frantically cramming a week’s worth of cute, summer-y clothes into the only suitcase you own, running back and forth from your closet to the suitcase to the desk where you kept all your beauty products and shower essentials, while your boyfriend ate one of your granola bars on your bed.

“You better not get any crumbs on the bed, you know I hate finding them later,” you scold, not even bothering to look at him as you stuff all your makeup into a small bag.

Jeongguk snorts. “You won’t even be sleeping here for a week, babe,” he says, voice calm and relaxed in the way only someone who’s already done packing can be. The only consolation to your current state was that Jeongguk had booked his family’s private jet, so you really couldn’t be late to a flight only the two of you would be on.

You turn around with a hand on your hip, giving him the same unimpressed look you always do when he’s being unreasonable. “I’m sure the mice you’re attracting will keep it warm for me.” He rolls his eyes, finishing off his snack and then making a big show of patting down your creaky mattress to rid it of any granola crumbs.

He’s settled back into the bed when he speaks again. “Take the orange crop top you bought from Forever 21 last month, it makes your boobs looks amazing.”

You tuck your socks and undergarments against the suitcase’s inner pocket. “Oh right, ‘cause that’s a priority right now.” You don’t wanna tell him it’s already folded against your other clothes because you, too, think it makes your boobs look amazing.

You hear the rustling of the bed sheets once more, before you see his long legs come to a rest around you, arms wrapping around your waist to watch you ruffle through the clothing you already have. “Not my fault my girl’s got a nice set on her.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you beg, reaching over to your pile of haphazardly thrown shorts and skirts to fold some more into your luggage. You’re careful of not moving far enough away that his arms would dislodge from their embrace. “We could have been halfway to the Bahamas right now if someone bothered to plan things ahead of time and not last minute as a means to get out of a charity ball.”

Jeongguk groans, letting his head fall forward to rest against your back, his soft breath leaving your back warm through your t-shirt. “Can’t a guy just steal his girlfriend away to the Bahamas for a week to avoid the overwhelming stress of life, and maybe choke on some exotic shrimp while she chokes on his di—”

“Get off of me, you pervert!”

The second you step foot on the archipelago that is the gem of the resort world, it’s about seven thousand degrees hotter than it was back home, and the sweat on the back of your neck can attest to that. The jet ride here had been pretty fun, it being your first experience flying private, but also flying in general. Jeongguk had kept you entertained both on the take off and landing, lips kissing down every inch of your neck with a promise for more later.

Well, it was later now, and the need to be sated was still present, something you’re not quite sure your boyfriend was aware of. Jeongguk was like that. Forgetful as fuck. The only reason he ever got anything done was because he had that assistant of his practically glued to his hip at every moment of the day, breathing down his neck every task he needed to complete. If it was up to Jeongguk, and Jeongguk alone, things would get done at a very slow pace.

But you were nothing like your boyfriend, and you suppose it’s why you two go together so well. While he put things to the side, you needed everything to be done right away and fast. Which is why you find yourself pulling him away from the scuba diving kiosk in an effort to check into your high-end cottage away from all the tourist hub.

“Babeee,” he whines, almost forgetting his luggage for the nth time, not used to actually having to haul his things by himself. “We could have seen the reef! You know, where all the fish are at? Where Nemo lives.”

“Uh huh, that’s nice,” you say, finding the driver Jeongguk’s assistant (bless his uptight, perfectionist ass) had booked for your arrival. “But we need to check in first and make sure our rental is all good.”

He seems miffed about the fact people actually have to do that, and had it not been his status as a trust-fund baby funding this entire trip, you would have liked to sock him right in the nose. But he’s your boyfriend and you’re used to his somewhat clueless ways by now, so you let it go.

You don’t know what you expected his assistant to rent out for you guys, but it certainly wasn’t the swanky beach house your driver pulls up to. It’s carefully secluded from the other houses around it, a high hedge-turned-fence surrounding the private yard. It hides a decent sized pool, a few lawn-chairs, and a hot tub from the public beach down below. The house itself is marvelous, complete with multiple bedrooms, two baths, and the most luxurious kitchen you’ve ever seen in a beach house.

“Oh,” you say upon stepping out of the car, mouth agape as you take in the sight of your accommodation for the next few days.

A pair of hands snake around your waist before carefully coming to rest above your navel. Jeongguk presses a gentle kiss to your temple, murmuring, “all for you, princess.” The waves crashing against the beach below are miniscule compared to the sudden blossoming of warmth in your chest.

“Shut up,” you shyly whine, turning around to envelope him in your arms. Your need for him and his body fades at the breathtaking sight behind you, and you find yourself forgetting about it completely as you venture around the house.

It’s the same day when you decide to go out into the yard and tan for a bit. Jeongguk had went in for a nap, a little tired from keeping you entertained on the long flight, because he’d stayed awake even when you fell asleep just in case you woke up scared. You don’t try to discourage him, watching him snuggle into the king mattress as you shuffle around for your bikini.

You’re absentmindedly applying another layer of sunscreen to your face, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head. You’re completely enveloped by thoughts of your boyfriend, of how he could have easily ran off to the Bahamas alone (he went to Moscow last November on a trip to ‘find himself’), but he’d elected to whisk you off with him.

You tuck your AirPods—another gift from him—into your ears before finally settling into the comfort of a lounge chair, the sun’s rays beating down on you full force. It feels wonderful being away from everything you know with the comfort of returning. You’d always dreamt of visiting such places as a teenager, the presence of a lover or not, but now you truly got to live out those fantasies with Jeongguk.

He was a dream.

It’s about thirty minutes into your session when you register the sound of the sliding door, and you crack one eye open to see your refreshed boyfriend wandering into the backyard in a pair of swimming trunks and a goofy look on his face. “Oh, pardon me, I didn’t know such women came to the public pool,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, not that he sees through the shades protecting you. “Don’t you dare try to roleplay with me, weirdo.”

He cackles, before somersaulting into the pool, and you find yourself squealing at the splash he makes. He disappears for a second under the water, but then pops back up at the ledge closest to you. “Come on, don’t be a pussy. Play along and maybe we’ll go to the spa tomorrow morning,” he offers.

“Fine.” You decide to join him, but not because the spa.

Jeongguk laughs at your petulant tone of voice, before sprawling out to float across the surface of the pool. “Great, so here’s what I was thinking. Me, the rich middle-aged husband coming here strictly for business. And you, the shy darling relaxing by the pool with her girlfriends who are all pushing her to go talk to me.”

“Sounds perfect, except for the part where I’m actually the sly minx coming here to scam a rich college boy out of his money, luring him into the most pleasurable sex he’s ever had, before ghosting him for all eternity and leaving him forever waiting for someone like me to come into his life again,” you propose.

Jeongguk blinks. “Wow, that sounded so realistic. You’re either really good at this, or… I should be worried,” he playfully accuses, before throwing over a gesture that says im watching you. You laugh.

“Just keep swimming, rich boy.”

He does as you tell him, playing in the water as you tune back into the music drifting into your ears. You’re about done tanning the front side of your body, and flip over to make sure your backside catches the rays as well. You set your sunglasses off to the side, and when you look back for them they’re adorning Jeongguk’s silly face as he doggy paddles around the donut floaty he found.

“Untie your top, dumby. Unless you want those ugly tan lines,” Jeongguk calls out in that brash tone of his. You flip him the bird, before sitting up in a very Ariel-esque pose to glance around your private yard.

As if sensing your hesitation, Jeongguk paddles over to your side, leveling you with an unimpressed look. “These bushes are as tall as a door, and there’s no one around for the next half mile, babe. Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.”

He truly knew the way to your heart.

You untie the knots at your back and your neck, carefully laying back down to get that perfect tan Jeongguk was talking about. Admittedly, you do feel a bit better knowing you won’t return home with noticeable tan lines, and that much is enough to have your topless self blissfully relaxing.

Your soundtrack is the playlist you had collected on the plane ride, occasionally joined by the splashing Jeongguk makes as he moves around the pool, and before you know it, your timer is ringing to let you know it’s time to flip over again. This time, you’re less hesitant about shedding your top, breasts bare to the sky as you throw the top over your eyes (guess where your sunglasses still where).

You hear a wolf whistle from the other side of the yard, and catch sight of Jeongguk sitting at the edge of the pool. His skin is glistening from the water, the sun enveloping him in its warmth. He’d been outside for a shorter time than you but somehow he’d accumulated a darker color faster. The sun loved him like no other. He’s pushing himself to his feet when he catches your gaze, mischievous smirk twisting his features as he rounds the pool.

“Didn’t know this was a nude beach,” he says, and you curse your body for the way it reacts to the sight of his messy hair and tone abdomen. Your nipples harden embarrassingly and you can’t even hide them.

“Tired already?” You muse instead, hoping he doesn’t comment on the state of your breasts. “Tired after a plane ride, tired after swimming. Didn’t know I was dating an old man.”

“Har har,” he says in a monotone voice, and you can’t help the curl of a smile at beating him at his own playful ways. He stops in front of you, and your expression is knocked clean off when the water droplets clinging to his body fall onto your warm skin.

“Jeongguk!” You whine, pushing him away with your foot in a valiant effort to save yourself from the cold water. If anything, your actions end up bringing your demise as he catches your ankle in his hand.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tuts, bending your leg upward only to place his knee where it once was. He ducks down to tower over you, your continuous squealing only bringing an evil smile to his face. “What did we say about tan lines?”

You push him away, groaning in defeat as his hair drips even more water onto your skin. “I took the top off, what now?”

He glances down, and for a moment, you’re confused as to what he sees that you don’t. You're only met with the sight of your yellow bikini bottom preserving the last of your dignity.

You scoff. “You’re kidding.”

Much to your chagrin, he’s not.

“You’re on one of the nicest islands in the world, staying in a private home with fences tall enough to stop Bigfoot from looking in, and you’re gonna tan with your bikini bottoms on? You’re ridiculous.”

You shove his shoulder, before resigning yourself to getting soaked by him as he shuffles around to squish you under his weight. “You’re ridiculous for thinking I’d be outside without any clothes on!”

He snorts against your shoulder, long arms moving around until he has one somewhat curled beneath you. “Nah. You are.”

“Don’t start with me, Jeon.”

He shifts again to look you in the eye. “Come on, ___. You’re really gonna get tan lines when you could avoid them?”

You roll yours eyes. “You couldn’t get me to go outside completely naked for a million bucks, baby.” The beginning of a grin curls around his lips. “Don’t even think about it.”

This brings a laugh out of him, before he’s laying back down to kiss your neck. “You’re silly.” All you can really hope for now is that him laying on top of you won’t give you an even worse tan line.

Just when you think he’s given up on his quest to have you completely naked outside, you feel the slightest tug on the tie holding your bikini in place, slapping your hand down on his as if he were a pesky fly. “Fine!” He huffs, rolling off you to jump back into the water. “I hope everyone sees your uneven tan.”

“No one would see a tan line on my coochie, Jeon,” you remind him, flinching when he decides to cannonball into the water right beside you, sprinkling you in another round of water pellets.

He emerges from the clear water a moment later, paddling to the ledge beside you to flick more water your way. “I will,” he retorts. “When I got you bent over tomorrow morning.”

You don’t hesitate to fling your bikini top his way, the yellow fabric smacking him across the face. “In that case, you should take those shorts off, because I certainly don’t wanna have to look at your pasty thighs.”

“You love my milky thighs,” he hums, traversing the length of the pool for his donut floaty again.

“Milky?”

Your tiny quarrel ends there, Jeongguk soon becoming too immersed in competing against himself in a breath-holding contest to bother you any longer. He’s adorable like this, cheeks puffed out like Mrs. Puff every time his head pops out of the water, that you almost forget to flip over when your timer rings again.

It’s in the midst of your repositioning that you dare take a peak beneath your bottoms. Much to your disdain, there is a growing disparity between the skin beneath your swimsuit and the skin around it. Nothing too bad, but if you were to lay out as long as you planned, it’d become embarrassingly noticeable. Your breasts had been saved from any differences thanks to Jeongguk’s early warning, and you begin wondering if shedding your bottoms would inflate his already huge ego.

No matter, you discreetly unknot the ties securing your bottoms, hoping he won’t notice from across the yard as you carefully slip them off.

You make quick work of laying on your stomach again, your ass finally catching some rays after being covered for so long. You won’t lie, there’s an unexpected wave of comfort that comes with being bare outside, your entire body wonderfully enveloped by the sun’s beaming rays. You snuggle into the lounge chair’s cushions as you nearly reach nirvana.

Your blissful state is ruined not even ten minutes later when the sound of Jeongguk’s heavy splashing comes closer and closer. It’s not until you hear the splat of his wet feet against the pavement that you realize you’re in trouble.

There’s a playful smack against your ass, and you yelp in surprise. “Jeon!” You whine, instantly sitting up on your forearms to narrow your eyes at him. He’s flashing you that playful grin of his as he plops down beside you, not even having to ask you to move over because you do so subconsciously

“Knew you’d give in eventually,” he sighs, leaning back on his palms as he tries to catch his breath. You decide to give up on your dreams of having a peaceful tanning session, turning around to face your glistening boyfriend.

“What do you want for lunch?” You ask instead, running a hand through the hair at the nape of your neck, rolling your shoulders around to get some movement back into them. He shrugs, slithering his way up the cushions to squish himself beside you. It’s a tight fit, but he makes it easier by throwing your leg over his middle.

“Probably some good food in the little village a mile from here. Could probably walk there too.” You hum in agreement, snuggling into his side. You’ve long since gotten over the coldness of his skin, cheek pressed against his chest. He’s got a hand on your lower back, partially to hold you close but also to stop you from rolling off the chair.

Right as your snoozing off, so wonderfully warm beneath the sun and comfortable in your birthday suit, you feel a pair of fingers brush against the backside of your thigh, and then ghost over your exposed pussy.

“You’re despicable,” you murmur, tweaking his nipple between your fingers. Jeongguk snickers, shifting you around so you’re mostly on top of him now, your awakened core pressed against his thigh.

“C’mon, princess,” he goads, running a pair of moist fingers along your thigh again, trying to carefully coax you into doing what he wants. Most things, you now realize, tend to go Jeongguk’s way regardless of other factors. “No one’ll hear us out here.”

“But what if someone does,” you point out, always the voice of reason when it comes to Jeongguk’s ideas. “We could get in trouble, Guk. I don’t know…”

“In trouble for what?” Is his smart rebuttal, shuffling beneath you so you can finally feel the swollen cock hiding beneath his swimming trunks. “Enjoying ourselves in our own home? Oh, the terror.” Upon seeing the uncertainty that still clings to your features, he drops the somewhat cocky attitude to press a kiss to your nose. “It’s all good, princess,” he soothes, ducking down to caress the side of your face with his cherried lips. “If anything, I’ll just bribe our way out of any trouble.”

“Ugh,” you groan, melting into him as you finally give in. “I hate when you say that.”

Jeongguk snuffles a laugh against your jaw, maneuvering the two of you around until you’re laid flat against the cushion with him hovering over you. “When I say what?” He teases. “That my wallet is as fat as my cock?”

You roll your eyes, untying the knot he’d done at the front of his shorts. “Get that fat cock of yours out before I change my mind.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he complies, setting one foot on the floor to push his shorts down, until you’re met with the sight of his stark thighs. You cackle, and his arrogant smirk is wiped off as he glances down at his two-toned legs.

“What happened to getting the perfect tan?” You sneer, tapping a finger against his muscled thighs. “Don’t tell me your ass is this white, too.”

He huffs in annoyance, before reclaiming his spot between your legs again, tugging you down until your cores are pressed together. “Shut up.” You do as he says, words catching in your throat at the feeling of his engorged cock brushing against your wet folds.

His slips a hand down to languidly toy with your folds, his fingers slightly pruny from all the time he spent in the water. It feels a little weird, but any complaints you may have had are wiped away when he nudges your bud with the tip of his pointer finger. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders at the sudden stimulation against your core. “Ohh,” you sigh, eyes rolling backwards.

“Feel good?” He checks, eyes trained on your expressions, lips unconsciously puckering to kiss you, even with your writhing beneath him. You let out a high-pitched mewl, much to your embarrassment, cheeks flushed warm from the sun and his ministrations. You nod belatedly.

He lets his wandering hands carry on, carefully travelling across the entirety of your folds. He knows your body like no other, so familiar with the dips and curves, that it’s impossible for him to not immediately locate your g-spot upon plunging his fingers inside you. “G-Guk!” you cry out, hands falling to grip at his biceps.

He presses a kiss to your throat. “That’s it, baby, lemme hear you,” he murmurs, and subtly presses his cock to the inside of your thigh. “Looked so delicious out here,” he sighs, and it’s as if he’s talking to himself. “Wanted to fuck your pretty little pussy from the second I stepped outside.”

Your back arches beneath him at a particular scissor of his fingers, another whine caught in your throat. “Want you so bad,” you whimper, reaching a hand up to tangle in his dark locks. You use the leverage to pull his lips towards yours, meeting in a frantic crash that has you whining against him even more.

His tongue slips past your lips, subduing yours when you try the same on him, and you almost choke on the excess saliva pooling in your mouth. Right before you can, he pulls back in favor of trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Your eyes flutter open, and you meet his own dark gaze.

“Ready?” He huffs, pulling his fingers out from within you. They’re shiny with your slick, almost as wet as they’d been when he was swimming earlier. You nod, dazed from all the pleasure he was giving you, that you can’t do more but spread your legs for him. He leans back on his knees, lining himself up with your hole.

You’d long since eliminated condoms from your relationship with Jeongguk, your trust in each other overwhelmingly so. Besides, you were still on the pill, and Plan B existed, so you never really worried about slipping up and accidentally getting yourself pregnant. Although there were times when he’d go overboard, stuffing you with his cum until you feel bloated, you’d never gotten pregnant before, so you wouldn’t begin to worry now.

Just the idea of feeling him in his entirety has you salivating, needy hands reaching out to grasp any part of him you can reach. Jeongguk snickers at your desperate ways, knotting his fingers with yours before pressing them to the cushion beneath you, the other gripping onto your thigh to keep your legs spread.

The second his tip pushes through the initial tightness, your mouth drops open, indecipherable noises escaping you. “J-Jeon,” you cry, chest heaving at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax for me, princess,” he huffs, just as out of it as you. Your body feels like it’s ascended, Jeongguk’s cock slowly pushing in further with each breath you take. It doesn’t take much longer for him to completely bottom out, the warm skin of his thighs pressing against you.

You’re like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as your body slowly assimilates to the feeling of being so absolutely full. It’s not until Jeongguk subtly shifts his weight onto his other leg that you give him the green light to start fucking you.

You moan, the first few thrusts hitting against every sweet spot inside you. “God, you’re so fucking big,” you heave, clenching around him just to feel the drag of his cock against your walls.

Jeongguk chuckles through his own pants, the fingers entwined with yours becoming impossibly tighter. “You’re too good for me,” he sighs, hauling your thigh further up his forearm until its resting in the crease of his elbow. The positioning allows his strokes to go deeper. You cry out, squirming beneath him with each thrust he gives.

“Oh fuck,” you cry wantonly when he plunges deeper into you, the water that decorated his skin long having been replaced by the sweat clinging to him. Your eyes flutter shut and you’re left only listening to the sounds of you, Jeongguk, and the ocean waves beneath you. “I love you,” you whimper.

Jeongguk grunts, ducking down to kiss you again, his hips not once slowing down. “Love you too, princess,” he murmurs. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you,” he groans, puncuating his statement with a brutal thrust of his cock into you. “Gonna buy you that pretty Valentino bag when we get back, I promise,” he adds, picking up his pace.

You whine, “You don’t have to, Jeon, I—”

He cuts you off, “and that silver Audi you liked at the car show last winter,” he rambles on, seemingly clueless to your protest. “A-And maybe that Louis Vuttion coat that brings out the color in your eyes—”

“I saw the same one at H&M,” you interrupt, swiveling your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. He chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up and just let me spoil you,” he groans, and then seemingly forgets what else he was planning on buying you as he focuses his complete attention on helping you reach your orgasm.

With his focus solely on that, you find the burning feeling in your lower abdomen grow tenfold, voice becoming more annoying with each moan and whine you give. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his thrusts sending tingles up and down your spine. He peppers kisses down your chest, each touch leaving your skin scorching.

Time seems to slow when the coil in your stomach finally snaps, an embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips as your body spasms beneath him. “Oh, Jeongguk,” you sigh, falling limp on the lounge chair as he continues chasing his high.

He pulls out soon enough, giving his cock a few tugs before he’s spurting his come across your lower abdomen, leaning back to admire his masterpiece. He’s panting afterwards, and the backyard feels eerily quiet as you both just gaze at each other with goofy smiles on your faces.

The romantic aura is ruined when he feels the need to say, “hey, maybe now my ass won’t be so white.”

“Fuck, you look sexy,” he murmurs when the instructor finally turns around, leaving Jeongguk to gawk at your body in the tight wetsuit provided. “Gonna fuck you so good tonight.”

“Shut up,” you blush, trying to stop your eyes from violating your boyfriend’s disgustingly gorgeous body in the matching wetsuit he wears. “We’ll get kicked out of the group, Guk.”

He rolls his eyes. “I could have rented the whole place out for us, but someone thought scuba diving with the other corny tourists would be fun.”

You flick his forehead. “You don’t have to buy out every building we go to,” you remind him, memories of this morning’s completely empty breakfast bar flickering to attention. “Besides, I wouldn’t have let you fuck me tonight anyway.”

He scoffs at your claim. “Please, you would have begged me, ___.”

You hit him with the wide end of your swimming fin, then have to apologize to the instructor for your horseplay, much to Jeongguk’s amusement. You narrow your eyes at him, following the rest of the group out onto the boardwalk leading to the boat. “Find me a Nemo, and we’ll do it in the beach cabana.”

Jeongguk’s lips twists into the most devious smirk you’ve ever seen, and he smacks your ass as he runs ahead of you. You yelp, just as he turns to face you just as he nears the group. “Has anyone seen my son?”

[natsunoomoi]

Chinese Romance Novels in English

So by chance and obviously successful marketing, I’ve had a lot of web novel apps being advertised to me and out of boredom I downloaded one and got hooked real bad.

The first app I got I think I might delete because most of it seems like trash and was clearly like American wannabe writers. I kind of just read the first few chapters of one story that they happened to put into an advertised Facebook post and I just wanted to continue the story 1 or 2 chapters just to get off the cliffhanger, but the story itself actually isn’t that good and the character motivations seem kind of stupid. The main character also seems kind of like a Mary Sue where like she is just special by some huge coincidence of fate and it’s kind of annoying. Like the beginning part was alright, and then it took a sharp turn when the first guy she was into that rejected her decided for some stupid reason to challenge her new guy who accepted her and then when he claimed to not concede a fight to the death, he went absolutely apeshit and somehow it traveled into dark magic. Idek. Plus like...almost all the stories on that app for some reason have to do with wolf people and packs? Like it’s obviously some kind of trend inspired from Jacob and Twilight and I don’t even like that series. And in addition to that, it’s like on par with the famously former Twilight fanfiction 50 Shades where it has some really uncomfortable unhealthy depictions of BDSM relationships. Like it’s just kind of thrown in there for no reason...? Like whatever floats your boat, but you can totally write it in there in a more sensible way and not just like throw it in randomly. In that sense, maybe it’s actually worse than 50 Shades. Seriously a lot of the stories on there read like horribly written fanfiction by a 12 year old. I was 12 once and my stories then were no better because I had too many ideas and wanted them all in. That’s how much of a mess those stories are. This one I just mentioned is the better one. There’s another one I started reading that’s much worse that’s like a high school drama that I barely remember the story too, but I remember the person putting in a whole ton of One Direction lyrics, which I think is going to get the person and the app sued because lyrics are copyrighted and the writer shamelessly pointed out they are a Directioner and to unlock new chapters you need certain items that you can earn or buy and basically they’re definitely making money off of it.

But then similar to how I found this app, I found another app that had Chinese romance novels translated into English in the same way I found the previously mentioned app through a Facebook ad, which is cool cuz I don’t often get to read literally anything with main characters that are Chinese let alone Asian. Most of the Asian protagonist media I consume is from Japan and I just gave up on looking up anything in Chinese cuz I honestly didn’t know I could find any in English.

But damn, the quality of writing is rather good. The translations could use some work and consistency where sometimes the translator doesn’t know common English expressions or there’s grammatical mistakes in newer chapters or sometimes I think they’re speed translating too fast and accidentally mix up characters. But the story itself is top notch and suspenseful. I’ve been reading non-stop for the last week and a half and caught up and am awaiting new chapters. Sometimes there’s bits where character decisions are a little frustrating or like some of the plot twists are like again or like how come this person can’t catch a break, but I got invested in the story so quick.

There’s two in particular I’m enjoying right now. One is Irresistible Romance and the other is Thorny First Marriage on Bravonovel. It’s actually a bit pricey to charge for diamonds and pearls to continue the story, but I felt like it was worth it because I did want to read more and didn’t regret it. I actually started a third today just because I ran out of chapters in those two. Both are similar in that the male lead that the female protagonist is with or trying to get with is like a rich Chinese business man that is so well-known for their business acumen and power via their company that they can strike fear into the hearts of other people and companies. So there’s like some intrigue and like really fascinating maneuvers and media manipulation.

In Irresistible Romance, the main character is an actress that had a really shitty relationship with the loser President of her management company who was cheating on her with another actress and he had convinced his fiancee (the main character) to basically give up her life for him and help him to push the actress that he was ultimately having an affair with. The main character, Yan Wen, gives up the final straw when like he ditches her at the Marriage Registration Office for some lame excuse where he’s with his mistress and by chance the rich guy in this story shows up at the Registration Office and gets stood up by his own prospective fiancee although for him it was a random girl he picked from a pile just to satisfy his family getting on his case about not finding a wife. So basically because the main character grows a spine and decides fuck her fiance she’s not going to just take his bullshit, she asks the rich guy, Jiang Sui-an, if he’d mind marrying her. He totally accepts though and they get married on the spot. He seems at first to be kind of a cold-hearted jerk, but he’s actually super cool. Like he marries Yan Wen just to get his family off his back, but then after he does some research into his wife and finds her super interesting and as she begins her journey of trying to take back her life from her ex-fiancee and his stuck up bitch mistress, he like finds out and helps from the shadows and like realizes she’s actually super cool too. And then like through the whole process they actually fall for each other and are super sweet and have each other’s backs. They have a really beautiful and healthy relationship where they can each have their own separate lives and do their thing, but they get supported and help when needed.

It was so refreshing cuz like the rich CEO thing was like a huge fetish for sure especially after 50 Shades, but like a lot of people noted, that relationship was hella unhealthy. This story though, Sui-an lets Wen take her time fixing her career and life in her own way and like postpones announcing their marriage so she can set things right herself. He totally supports her space and her own decisions, but if he ever sees that she needs an extra boost or gets backed into a corner by some unexpected thing, he steps up and lends a hand. But ultimately he leaves everything up to her decision. And like on her end too, she’s totally a really good supportive wife and tries to make sure she doesn’t worry him too much and that he gets plenty of sleep and eats regularly, and she even tries to help him where she can with his work. They are so cute together. Along the way a lot of other people try to defame Wen or pull some shady entertainment world tactics, but she stays poised and lets the truth come out on its own or even does some defensive research and stuff. It’s so good.

Plus, writing-wise it’s really fascinating how they intertwine the online commentary tabloid headlines into the story so you can see different angles. And then when they write the antagonists’ sides they give you their internal dialog POV so you can understand the situation the best. The actual story and plot development is so good.

Then Thorny First Marriage, holy shit the intrigue. Plus for the most part, the main character is most like my personality only I’m not a former journalist. It’s just a lot of her reactions and sassy thoughts to things are really similar to me and how I feel like I would react if I was in her position. There’s a few times where she does things that I don’t think I would necessarily do or I would do things a bit more drastically, but so good and I identify with her. Writing-wise I don’t think it’s as good as Irresistible Romance because there’s been two times where they kind of forgot about something that they mentioned in an earlier chapter, so they have some issues keeping track of their plot twists, and there’s a few times where I’m reading like, “Why don’t you just tell them what happened and then they’d STFU?”

But yeah, this story starts out with the main character, Xia Zhi, waking up in the presidential suite of a hotel and not knowing how she got there and distinctly feeling like she was raped and finding some...remnants on the bed next to her. As the plot develops you find out that her asshole husband, who had never touched her himself for some reason and has the spine of jellyfish, sold her to some rich guy for 2 million bucks (she finds out later). What the actual hell? What kind of husband pimps his wife to another man?! And like she gets a pregnancy test later and somehow someone blabs to her mother-in-law and her mother-in-law totally doesn’t believe her and she knows that her son and her were never intimate, so she throws her out of the house. Then some dude that’s like some kind of secretary or assistant just comes by all stalker-like that appears to be from some rich guy that knows her and basically coerces her into going with them and going to some mystery safe house mansion. She’ll be cared for there by two staff, but she also tries to escape and find out who tf this guy is and if he’s the Dad. She still has a job and goes to work as a journalist, but gets assigned to interview some rich VP of a famous company. All the while she’s trying to get a hold of her asshole husband to find out what the hell happened to her that night she didn’t remember where she got super frickin’ drunk at his company party. This dick has been in hiding and trying to avoid her for some reason since that night and he finally calls back in the middle of her interview and because she’s freaking out about her unexplained pregnancy she unprofessionally takes the call. The rich VP, Sang Qi, ends up calling her boss and getting her fired, which I mean, obviously. That’s a thing where I probably wouldn’t have taken the call. One of the differentiating things between her and me. But how she reacts to being fired, yeah, that’s totally me. She runs into Sang Qi later at a rich people shopping mall shop and somehow manages to steal his phone and starts a plotline where she tries to use it as leverage to like get back at him and make a living for herself that also involves him being crafty and like kind of tricking her into some situations like confronting her ex-husband. And then like at some point she remembers a custom cufflink she remembered finding in the room she woke up in that one time and starts to wonder and suspect if maybe Sang Qi was the guy cuz he does have those kinds of things. And she like looks at the cufflink she has that she took from the room as evidence, but she has to do a direct comparison. He like uses GPS to find her mansion prison and tries to take back his phone and Zhi gets like even more suspicious that he is the guy cuz for some reason he knows how the balcony door at the place works even though it has a weird af lock, and they have witty banter and somehow he ends up staying over and she tries to sneak in his room at night to check out his cufflink but he catches her. And like hot damn, so much intrigue. After like a ton of frustration with trying to interrogate everyone around her about who the baby Daddy is she’s just like f it, I’m not going to be your baby incubator and tries to go get an abortion (I would’ve gone way sooner) and before they can start the procedure Sang Qi shows up and claims to be the Dad, and then afterward also takes care of her because she’s allergic to anesthetic. Since she knows who now they like stay together and stuff and she tries to question him about that night, but he actually has no memory of it either cuz he was super frickin’ drunk too. It’s just a lot of unanswered questions. And like since he’s supposedly the Dad, he tries to get closer to her, but she won’t let him really. There’s a lot of witty banter between them and like he even helps her out with her loser husband by getting him demoted. Over time they actually become fond of each other and like used to each other, and it’s really sweet. He actually is there for her and helps her on a number of occasions even though she doesn’t really trust him cuz of course he bought her right? But then little by little you see them really start to like each other and it seems like he might be more interested whereas Zhi is like more reserved because he’s her captor as far as she knows. But then just when you think that maybe they’ll get together, Qi disappears and then the process of him showing up you find out who the actual Dad is and a whole lot of family drama, and other drama where like you actually don’t know where Qi stands, and it like isn’t until like where I am that you find out he was actually upright the whole time. It’s so stressful but it’s so good.

There was a couple of times earlier one where there’s misunderstandings with other people, where I was like, dude, just tell the people your asshole husband sold you for money. I think they’d be more understanding of your situation if they knew.

And then like...for me, I like Qi and I came around to him after awhile, but like I suspected him and didn’t like him toward the beginning especially because he didn’t do or say anything that made him seem trustworthy. He never really lies except for one thing (about being the father), but also he like isn’t that truthful either, or rather, he doesn’t stop to actually explain himself properly which would have made Zhi not like freak out or mistrust him and would have made me not mistrust him. Like I shared a lot of Zhi’s fears because she was in an unfamiliar situation and being manipulated like a puppet by someone with money, and this guy claims to be the one that bought her like an object to be a baby incubator. I and the main character can’t respect that no matter how nice he is. If he admit he didn’t do it at the beginning it would have made all the difference. It’s a trek to find out who though. And at first even that guy sounds disgusting, but like where I am in the story maybe not? Like almost sympathetic.

The only one that I like really hate and disgusts me is her original husband. Like eww. He’s such a greedy asshole. And like later on you find out that actually he lied to her about how much he sold her for and it was actually more. What the actual fuck?! It wasn’t bad enough that you sold your wife for money, but you had to lie to her too about how much it was so you can hide the money from her? And for such a long frickin’ time he tried to coax her to come back and to not divorce him. What the actual hell? What kind of delusion is he living in?! But like also her original husband reminds me of someone I knew in real life when I was in uni. He was a friend of mine initially, but at some point he started making really uncomfortable jokes and it seemed like he liked me or something. I never viewed him that way, but we just hung out. And then at my uni because there was a huge rush to like try to figure out 2nd year housing, we arranged to do a co-ed roommate situation where like me and another girl and him and his friend would stay in apartment from our second year. To me that seemed normal cuz other friends of mine did that too because there’s only so many people you know and you have to try to snatch up and apply for apartments as soon as possible. There were long wait lines and I actually hadn’t thought about it until the last minute, so I didn’t see it as having much of a choice. But he started making cracks and fantasizing about neighbors and people misunderstanding and thinking we were married, which I didn’t find funny and how and why when there were other people we were living with too? It made me super uncomfortable and during the summer he was kind of like a stalker and tracking where I went so I just started avoiding him every chance I could. After awhile thinking about him made me feel physically ill. The next year after that my roommate decided to move out with two other girls into a different apartment (after unsuccessfully trying to make him leave). But the whole thing with how Zhi’s first husband was written totally reminded me of that guy. Especially with the lame excuses when confronted and stuff and not thinking and his unhealthy tie to his parents’ way of living.

That said, finding these stories are kind of like an unexpected comfort. I wish I could find someone as supportive as Sui-an or Qi. Especially when the men I’ve met in my life were just as bad as some of the other male characters or arguably worse. I’ve been bullied by the guys I fell for, I’ve liked some guys that were way too moody, I’ve had guys that liked me that were not creepy too, but I just wasn’t interested in them or the timing was just wrong, I’ve given up someone I really cared for because a mutual friend of ours crossed a line and then posthumously went kind of crazy from the grief, and I’ve met guys that were really fucking stupid and didn’t know how to act appropriately in a professional situation and actually sexually harassed and retaliated against me. I’m so tired and almost 4 years into living in Japan, I’m starting to realize that because of that last one, I think I gave up on my life because of trauma. Just hurt too many times, so don’t even think about love anymore cuz why bother? It took awhile for me to even be able to become a functioning human being again after the PTSD of harassment. I was really bad and freaking out because the guy that did it was so frickin’ stupid that he like wasn’t actually responsible enough to know the things he shouldn’t do and it was freaking me the hell out that he just didn’t know when he crossed a line. So I ran away to another country and tried to rebuild some semblance of a life for myself. Now my home country is a goddamn mess and I’d be in a worse position to go home, but at the same time, although my heart has healed enough to the point that I can function as a human. I am not at all motivated to look for anyone or let myself care for someone ever again. When I was younger I had so many dreams and really wanted a family. But now I am sad to say I have resigned myself to believing that that will probably never happen because I am apparently plagued by horrible people. I haven’t met horrible people since I’ve been in Japan, but I also don’t go out and talk to anyone other than co-workers and students because I’m busy and in my free time I want to introvert. It’d be kind of nice if I was lucky and had a kind of random chance like Yan Wen cuz like, I just can’t and don’t want to put up with low quality people.

That said, I was talking with my boss and co-worker the other day and we were discussing how China’s population problem with the bachelor society so there’s a lot of men but less available women to be their wife, so I was kind of wondering if that was also kind of how come so many modern day Chinese romance novels seem to involve a rich CEO. I suppose in China right now the chance that you could marry one is greater than anywhere else in the world because of the population problem, so maybe they’re trying to promote moving there and marrying them. LOL I’d be kind of suspicious of whether or not they’d be able to be like actually good husbands for real, but I suppose there probably is some sense of desperation.

And then because I ran out of chapters to read for today because I have to wait for them to translate more, I started another one about a Bossy Ghost Husband? It’s kind of creepy at the beginning, but the ghost husband thing has been something I was kind of curious about because you can marry the dead in China. But like for real I also wondered if youkai really are real or not and if you could unknowingly marry a youkai or something too, so basically it’s right up my alley too. And then also because my life is garbage I was like seriously thinking and wondering if it would actually be so bad to be single to the people who know you around you, but married actually to a ghost and have a ghost husband to go home to? Like would that actually be bad? I suppose in that same vein, it’s not much different from WoL having a secret relationship with Emet-Selch, but yeah.

Anyway, all of this gave me a lot to think about.

[werewolfdays]

Drabble- Cleaning Wounds

when your werewolf gf is dumb and is a baby about taking care of her injuries-

“It’s time to clean your wound.” Nadya announced as she came out of the motel bathroom, waving at me with the first-aid kit in her hand.

I grumbled quietly to myself as I continued to pack our things. There was hardly a need for constant pampering when I got hurt, especially now when it wasn’t even that bad, but Nadya always insisted on taking care of me and I could never really say no to her. That didn’t mean I couldn’t complain about it. “I’m fine. You gave me stitches yesterday. It’s gotta be mostly healed by now.”

“Don’t be a baby.” Nadya scolded. When she motioned for me to unbutton my shirt, I stepped back and folded my arms defiantly. She sighed, shoulders slumping in exasperation. Her lighthearted glare told me I was acting like a complete child. “At least let me change the bandage?”

“I can do that myself.” I challenged, holding a hand out for the kit.

Nadya’s eyes narrowed, and when I reached out to take the first-aid kit from her, she pulled her arm back and out of my reach. “Nuh-uh.” She said, lighthearted glare turning into a playful grin. “Sit.” she commanded, nodding toward the bed.

I raised an eyebrow, “And if I don’t?”

A beat of charged silence hung in the air as a stare-down commenced. Nadya didn’t bother dragging this out with subtle moves, though. She went straight for her trump card to win her the game, pulling me into a soft, yet heated kiss. I was absolutely done for.

Just as I was getting into it, getting lost in the feeling of her lips against mine, she broke away from me. Slowly, I opened my eyes to see Nadya far too pleased with herself, even though I could see that she was almost as flustered as I was. “Wanna sit down now?” She huffed, slightly breathless.

“I want you to kiss me again.” I said, licking my lips, still able to taste her.

“Well, sit down and maybe I will.” She replied, putting her glasses on.

With a crooked grin, I obeyed. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked up expectantly, but Nadya motioned for me to scoot back some more, which I did without question. Nadya set the first-aid kit beside me, “Lie down.” She said with a small smile. I wasn’t sure what she had planned exactly, but I remained obedient.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Compromise.” Nadya answered. When I tilted my head in question, she elaborated, “I have a feeling you’ll complain less about me cleaning your wound if I do it this way.”

And with that Nadya climbed onto the bed and straddled my hips, sitting on my lap. She was definitely correct. There was very little to complain about whenever Nadya was on my lap. I couldn’t resist sitting up and trying to kiss her again, but her hand went to my shoulder, gently but firmly pushing me back down. Before I could whine about it just to annoy her, Nadya started unbuttoning my flannel, making whatever retort I had fade away from my mind before it could even leave my lips.

“Be still.” she ordered.

“You’re such a tease.” I chuckled, resting my hands on her thighs.

“Suck it up for a minute.” Nadya said, flashing me another smirk while she opened my shirt to expose the bandage on my side stained with a few dots of dried blood.

Watching Nadya lean over me while she worked, I was mesmerized. This was one of my favorite images of her. The way her brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully studied my condition. A wave of her soft brown hair flowing over her shoulder. And she always looked cute in those glasses… “You know, I’m starting to get the whole ‘sexy nurse’ thing.” I said, playfully squeezing her thighs.

Nadya scoffed, too focused on her task to be affected much by my advances right now, “Most nurses don’t do this because their patients don’t act like five-year-olds when they need their injuries tended to.”

I was about to argue her point, but suddenly Nadya pressed an alcohol swab to the healing cut, and my body tensed from the unexpected sharp sting. “Ah- fuck me- a little warning next time?” I complained through a pained laugh.

“Sorry,” Nadya said sincerely, “Almost done.” she ripped open a fresh bandage and applied it carefully, trying not to cause any more pain.

“There. Now, was that so har-” her chastising words were cut off as I pushed myself up again to kiss her, ignoring the pinch of protest from my injury at the sudden movement. Pain no longer mattered to me whenever her lips were on mine. Nadya indulged me for a minute, cupping my face, and even parting her lips to deepen the kiss. I could tell she was indulging herself too, tangling a hand in my hair and pulling me against her. My hands traveled up her thighs towards her waist.

Nadya finally stopped me when my fingers brushed the skin under her shirt. She pulled away from the kiss, and her hands gripped my wrists to halt their progress. “Okay, let’s take it down a notch.” Nadya breathed out against my mouth, forehead leaning against mine. I could sense she didn’t stop because she wasn’t in the mood.

“Why?” I asked, retreating my hands.

“Because you just got stabbed yesterday, Jay.” Nadya pointed out with a hint of irritation. “You need to heal before we do that.”

Of course I didn’t want to push her, but she needed to know I wasn’t made of glass. “Nadya, I’m fine. I can handle it.”

“The last time you told me that, we reopened your gunshot, remember?” Actually, I had forgotten about that. It didn’t matter much to me, but I remembered how bad Nadya felt about it. “So, we can wait a little longer.” Nadya gave me a quick kiss to placate any argument I may have, though she didn’t need to. If she wasn’t comfortable having sex until I was healed, then she was right. I could wait.

“Okay.” I said, pecking the tip of her nose and leaning back on my elbows. “You look hot in those glasses by the way.”

Nadya’s cheeks flushed when she smiled, and she consciously adjusted her glasses, “And you look sexy in an unbuttoned flannel.”

I grinned at her, reaching out for one of her hands to fidget with. Just because we weren’t going to take things further didn’t mean I wasn’t content. I was content with the contact she granted me. The weight of her resting on my lap. The way she filled all my senses with her closeness. If I focused, I could hear her heart. Closing my eyes, I fully laid back down and listened to the sound. Strong, steady thumping in her chest. A beautiful calm washed over me, and I placed her warm palm flat against my bare stomach.

When her fingertips started to caress my skin, I let out a pleased hum. “Can you treat all my injuries this way?”

My eyes were still closed so all I heard was a small laugh, “So I can give you an excuse to get stabbed on purpose? You already have little self preservation as it is.”

I snorted, opening my eyes just so I could roll them at her. “Come here.” I gave her arm a gentle tug and Nadya draped her body half on top of mine, careful not to put pressure on my side. Her glasses settled awkwardly on her face when she rested her head on my shoulder so I reached up and took them off for her, carefully placing them on the nightstand so they wouldn’t get accidentally broken.

Unburdened by the glasses, Nadya shifted a little more and nuzzled against me. We let the quiet linger for a while. I always hated the quiet. It gave me too much time to think. Too much time to think let in a whole world of bad feelings. Doubts. Regrets. Horrible memories. All bundled up in a storm that devastated my mind. Sometimes it still did, but with Nadya the quiet was starting to become a sanctuary. It let us catch our breath and allowed us to just be. The quiet was where I could memorize every part of her. The way she breathed, how it changed when she became more relaxed. Her scent, how she smelled calming like autumn air. The way her body fit against mine and how perfect it felt. How when we lay like this she always found a place to rest her lips against my skin.

“You’re healing well, by the way.” Nadya mentioned, her fingertips tracing a gentle perimeter around the fresh bandage, “As usual.”

“Thanks to you.” I replied. Despite my teasing complaints, I always made sure she knew I was grateful. And I was grateful. For every single time she put in the effort to heal me. Even if I wasn’t worth the trouble.

Nadya let out an amused breath, “Well, it’s mostly you if I’m honest. Your body heals you better than I can.”

“No, that’s not true. I’d be dead a long time ago if it weren’t for you.” I turned slightly to rest my forehead against hers. “You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”

“We’ve saved each other.” Nadya corrected. “That’s what we do.”

I smiled and pressed my lips to her forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay.” my soft words carrying the deep feeling of relief in my heart.

“Same to you.” Nadya said with a relieved sigh. Then she leaned up on one elbow, looking down at me, “If we want it to stay that way, we probably shouldn’t stay here much longer.” Nadya said that regretfully. I knew she didn’t want to stop this moment, but she was right. I taught her as much.

As if sensing my own regret, Nadya leaned down and pressed her lips on my stomach, right next to my healing wound. The kiss was so delicate and soft that I almost didn’t feel it. Then she placed another higher up. Then another. By the time she reached my neck I completely forgot what she had said. It was so easy for her to have this affect on me and I wasn’t complaining.

When Nadya saw the expression on my face, her amusement became apparent. “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t trying to work you up?”

I laughed and brushed her hair behind her ear, letting my thumb caress her cheek. “It doesn’t take much, babe.”

Nadya bit her bottom lip while her eyes scanned my features like she was debating whether or not to change her mind about earlier. But her reasoning was important to me because it was important to her, so I leaned up enough to gently kiss the corner of her mouth before saying, “We should get going.”

She smiled in recognition of my intentions and gave me a quick kiss in thanks before sitting up and buttoning my shirt back up. Halfway through, Nadya glanced at me and gave a wink that said later. I smirked back to let her know I wouldn’t forget.

[harley-sunday]

The Draw (06)

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end...

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: Language

Word count: 3403

AN: It’s not all fun and games, but it will lead to better things, promise. Let me know what you think of this one! I don’t have a taglist, but if you follow Harley Sunday x Sebastian Stan you should see any update I post.

Masterlist

“I have two questions,” you say after taking a bite of the pistachio macron you’ve just snatched out of the picnic basket, rolling your eyes at how good it tastes, trying to keep yourself from actually moaning. You want to follow up with a sip of wine, because the white he’s chosen goes amazingly with all the food, but you find your glass empty.

“Just two?” he asks, interrupting your musings, popping the last of his sandwich into his mouth.

“For now,” you add as an afterthought. You’ve kicked off your sneakers not long after you finished the first bottle of wine and your legs are now tucked underneath you, as you sit sideways, facing Sebastian, who’s on the other side of the picnic basket. “One; where are we even going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, raising his eyebrows before he throws you a wink.

You just stare at him, not saying anything, knowing he’ll give in eventually, only because you’ve used the same tactic on Nathan numerous times.

“Ok, you’re a little scary when you do that,” he mutters quietly, before he clears his throat. “We’re just going to go around Santa Barbara Island and then head back to the harbor,” he looks at his watch, “should take us another three hours or so.” He grins then, “Unless you want to kick it up a notch and see what this baby can do,” patting the pillow beside him.

“Oh, I’m good, thank you,” you quickly reply, knowing from past experience that that’ll only make you seasick and you’ll end up hurling over the railing. It’s not something you want him to see on your first date, per se. If this even is a first date, you ponder then, not sure there’ll ever be a second either.

“So what’s your second question?” He says as he pulls up a new, chilled bottle of wine from somewhere underneath him and holds it up to you, awaiting your nod before he fills up your glass.

You study him for a second before you continue, “Why the boat?”

He chuckles, putting the bottle back before running a hand through his hair, “Because it get us away from the paparazzi?”

“Hmm, I suppose,” you say, even though you’re surprised to hear him answer with a question. You keep looking at him, tilting your head ever so slightly which he takes as his cue to come up with something else.

“Because it gives us some privacy?” he tries again, drawing out the words.

You smile, waving your hand dismissively, “Sure, let’s just forget about Captain Peterson and Shawn the deckhand,” you shrug, “it’s like they’re not even here anyway.”

He grins then, “Because I like showing off,”

It’s not a question this time and you laugh, “Ah, there it is.”

He holds up his hands as if to defend himself, “Hey, I am not above trying to pull all the stops when I have some serious making up to do, alright?” He leans in, whispering then, “Is it working?”

“Meh,” you shrug, trying your best to look unimpressed but failing, so you smile and playfully smack his arm, “Are you kidding me? This is amazing!”

“Ow!” he exclaims at the same time, holding on to his arm with his other hand, feigning hurt.  

“Oh come on,” you scoff, shaking your head, but you feel a little guilty because Nathan always tells you that you actually hit people pretty hard when you do that and so you hand him a pistachio macron as a sort of peace offering.

Not long after deckhand Shawn makes an appearance, informing you that you’ve just rounded Santa Barbara Island and are now on your way back to Marina Del Rey and expected to get there in about two hours.

You unfold your legs from underneath you, a little stiff from having sat in the same position for most of the trip, and a little cold from sitting still for so long. You stand up and try to get the blood flowing again, grabbing your blazer from where it’s draped over the pillows before you put it on. Sebastian looks at you curiously as you pass him, making your way around the small top deck, and you throw him a wink, “Thirteen was twenty one years ago, remember? I just need to walk around for a bit and-”

“So basically you’re an old woman,” he grins, throwing back your own words at you, “If that wasn’t the kettle calling the pot black earlier today.”

You throw him a look, shaking your head ever so slightly, pursing your lips together to keep from taking his bait, instead glancing at the island you’re leaving behind, impressed by its cliffs and how wild it looks. Your eyes travel across the horizon, spotting a few sailing boats in the distance, but other than those it’s pretty quiet. Must be because you’re quite far out, you muse, even though you have no idea how far removed from the coast you actually are.

You simply nod when Sebastian asks you if you’ve had enough to eat and if you’d like a coffee, and watch him as he starts neatly packing the leftovers into the picnic basket. He stands up too then and grabs a hold of the basket before he walks past you and climbs down the ladder. You sit down again, in a corner this time so you can stretch out your legs on the seat cushions in front of you, and let your mind wander for a bit, thinking back to everything’s that happened since you’ve arrived in L.A.

A smile plays on your lips as you remember your time spent with Julie, reminding yourself to send her a message to see if you can grab a bite to eat somewhere tomorrow or the day after, because you really took a liking to her. You also remind yourself that you have to go to the art gallery, having decided that you want to buy the painting you put on hold. Your smile grows wider when you think back to seeing Infinity War, Sebastian seated next to you as you were engrossed in the movie. A frown then, as you try to skip over the after party debacle, wishing things would have gone differently that night, although if they had, you reason, you might not have ended up here.  

“Where’s your head at?”

You look up, pulled out of your thoughts by his voice, and smile when you see him step off the ladder, holding two cups of steaming coffee. You take the one he hands you, mouthing a quiet, “Thank you,” and watch him as he sits down next to you, his legs outstretched in front of him, his arm brushing against yours whenever he moves. You fold your hands around the cup and hug it to your chest, before you answer his question honestly, “Just thinking about these crazy past couple of days.”

“Hmm,”

“And how I have to remember to go buy a painting tomorrow.” You chuckle, “The painting’s called ‘Tomorrow’ actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod enthusiastically. “You should see it, it’s, God, I don’t even know how to explain it, it’s like this confetti of colors and swirls of happiness that just puts a smile on your face every time you look at it.” You smile, “It’s something to remember this weekend by, I guess.”

“Yeah?” He grins, “so this is a confetti of colors?”

“No, that was my dress,” you say dryly. “Today is one of the swirls of happiness.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “I’d never thought I’d end up spending the day on a boat with you-”

“Hey, obviously this was my plan all along. I just forgot to mention it in my emails,” he says with a grin, making you laugh.

You’re curious if he has anything else planned after you return to shore, but don’t want to ask, afraid it’ll make you sound like you are expecting more. So instead you keep silent and let yourself just enjoy the moment, savoring both the view and the company, the steady hum of the boat’s engine as some sort of weird background music to this afternoon. Lauren would be proud of you, not trying to change the past or worrying about the future, but instead living in the ‘here and now’, like she taught you to do after you broke up with Mark. You smile when you think of your best friend and all the things you have to tell her when you get back home.

Home.

You sigh quietly when you remember that you’re flying home on Wednesday, that all this will just be a memory then.

Sebastian nudges you gently then, pulling you out of your thoughts, “You ok?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

He studies you, forehead creasing as if he’s not sure you’re telling the truth, but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re about to reassure him that you really are fine when you feel a sharp pain on the side of your head and it only seems to get worse, like someone’s keeps hitting you with a hammer in the same spot over and over again. You flinch, muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” as your hand shoots up and rubs your left temple, trying to get rid of the pain.

“You ok?” Sebastian asks again, but this time he sounds worried, turning towards you, his hand on your arm as concern flashes in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. You close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath, your fingers stilled against your skin. The pain subsides then and you frown, before you slowly open your eyes, preparing for another wave of pain, but nothing comes and you just shake your head.

“What happened?”

You turn towards him and shrug, “I don’t know, I,” you let out a shaky breath, “I just felt this sharp pain and then just as sudden it was gone.” You see it does nothing to rid him of his concern and so you offer, “Maybe it was the wine, or being out in the sun all afternoon,”

He nods, “Maybe,” but doesn’t seem convinced, still looking at you like you could break at any minute, his eyes dark and a frown across his forehead.

His hand’s still on your arm so you gently pat it with yours, “I’m fine, really,” because you are, even though your voice is a little strained and high-pitched. You try again, “I’m fine,” but it comes out even worse and you giggle then because it reminds you of something.

Sebastian just looks at you like you’ve lost it, eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you double over from laughing.

You hold out your hand to him as you try to catch your breath, the other one drying the tears that have sprung to your eyes. “I sound like Ross,” you cackle, unable to control your laughter. “Totally fine,” you croak out in between fits of laughter, trying to do your best impression, “I don’t know why it’s coming out all loud and squeaky, ‘cause really,” you look at Sebastian, one eyebrow raised in anticipation, not sure if he knows what’s going on.

“I’m fine,” he finishes in a low voice, laughing now too, shaking his head, muttering a quiet, “Jesus.”

“I’m sorry,” you grin, having calmed down a little even though your eyes are still watery, “I‘m sorry, I just heard myself and wow, I-”

“You know what? I’ll cook!” Sebastian exclaims then, in the same high-pitched voice you used earlier, continuing where the scene left off.

“Ok, that’s weird,” you reply, quoting Joey, knowing this episode by heart only because you and Lauren used to watch Friends all the time back in college.

“Weird, what? What’s weird?” Sebastian ads. He’s turned sideways so he’s facing you, a mischievous look on his face, eyes sparkling, “The only thing weird would be if someone didn’t like Mexican food, because I’m making-”

“Fajitas!” you both yell, mimicking Ross’ angry tone of voice at the end of that scene.

You’re holding onto your stomach again then, laughing so hard the tears are actually rolling down your cheeks now.

“I can’t believe you watched Friends,” you say a little while later, after you’ve both calmed down enough to be able to talk again.

He nods, “Oh, are you kidding me? We’d just moved to the States when it came out and I’d watch it every chance I got, hoping it would help me improve my English.” He chuckles then, “God, for the longest time I actually thought that a ‘moo point’ really was a thing, told everyone it didn’t matter because it was just a cow’s opinion.”

“Oh no,”

“Hmm,” he nods, scrunching up his nose, “Almost as bad as using “How you doin?” as a pick-up line until I was well into college.”

You pat his arm, “You poor thing,” but can’t help but snicker at his confessions.

It’s then Shawn pops up on the ladder, informing you that you’re almost at the harbor again.

You sit up and take in your surroundings, surprised you can already see the beach from here. There are more boats surrounding you now and you even see a couple of people on paddle boards in the distance.

“Alright,” Sebastian says with a mischievous grin, “almost time for the next part.”

“There’s a next part?”

“Of course,” he says, acting offended that you would even think otherwise. “Unless of course this is enough making up for you, I mean-”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you quickly say, “I mean, obviously you are doing a great job so far, but you know,” you shrug innocently, “there’s always room for improvement.”

He just shakes his head, pursing his lips together, not taking the bait.

You watch then as Captain Peterson maneuvers the boat into the harbor, almost effortlessly coming to a stop next to the dock you left off from earlier today before Shawn hops onto the dock to tie the boat to the cleats. Looking around to see if you haven’t left anything behind, you grab your purse and follow Sebastian down the ladder to the main deck, thanking the Captain and Shawn for today.

Sebastian holds out his hand to you, nodding towards the dock, “Come on,”

You take his hand and let him help you onto the platform, your legs a little wobbly after being on a boat for so long. You take one last look at the boat before you come up with an idea and let go of his hand so you can pull up your phone from out of your purse. You look at him with a smile, “Just one picture? For my wall?”

“Definitely,”he nods, smiling, and stands next to you, both your backs towards the boat.

You unlock your phone and frown when you see you’ve missed some calls from your parents, but not really thinking about it any further when you open your camera app and put it on front facing camera, trying to angle it so you can fit both Sebastian, you and the boat in one frame. You see him looking a little to the left of your phone, a confused look plastered on his face, and you decide to look in the same direction, but with a smile, before you press the shutter button.

The result is amazing and you can’t help but laugh at how it turned out, knowing you have another great addition to your wall. You follow Sebastian onto the pathway, your phone still in your hands because something about the missed calls is bothering you. “Hey Sebastian,” you start, your voice a little unsteady, “is it ok if I call my parents real quick? I’ve got a couple of missed calls and I just want to make sure everything’s alright.”

“Yeah, sure.” He nods towards the gate that’s about ten feet from you, “I’ll just wait over there, ok?”

You nod, already unlocking your phone and finding their number in your contact list. Holding the phone to your ear you are met with the dial tone, and you start to get a little nervous when you get their voicemail. You hang up and scroll through your list to your Dad’s cell phone number, hitting the dial button with a heavy feeling in your chest, your eyes landing on Sebastian, who gives you a reassuring smile.

It’s your mother who answers, “Oh, sweetie,”

You hear some ruffling in the background and she’s rambling then, not really making any sense, but you pick up the words hospital and car accident and it’s like something’s tugging on your heart.

“Mom?” you try, but she’s not listening, instead you hear her talk to your father, who tells her to give him the phone. “Dad?”

“It’s Nathan, darling,” your father says. He was never a man of many words, but giving you this little information is absurd, even for him.

“What? What do you mean? What’s happened?” You start pacing, unable to keep still, your feet kicking at the little pebbles that are scattered across the pathway.

“They got into a car accident-”

“Who did?”

“You need to let me finish, darling,” your father says sternly. He clear his throat, “Nathan and Sarah and Jake were on their way home from dinner with us and they got into an accident.”

You gasp then, covering your mouth with your hand as a sob threatens to escape you. A chorus of please let them be fine, please let them be fine, running through your mind.

“Jake and Sarah are relatively fine, just in shock really,” he continues but you can hear him trail off, and wish he would just tell you, but then you hear him sigh and you know you are going to dread his next words.

“But you know Nathan, never wearing a seat belt,” he scoffs.

“Dad, just tell me,” you plead, because it’s obviously bad and you don’t really see the point of drawing this out any longer than necessary.

“He uh, he hit his head pretty hard, darling,” he says, his voice softer now, “the doctors are talking about a subdural hema-something, I don’t know. Apparently they’re going to have to drill a hole in his skull to drain the blood.”

“Oh,” your voice is thin and you are trying your hardest not to cry, because you don’t want your parents having to worry about you too, “When are they going to do that?”

You hear your father relay your question back to your mother before he gets back to you, “As soon as possible,”

“Ok,” you say again, mind going a hundred miles an hour. Your trying to form some rational thoughts, “Ok. Are you at Carolinas?” It’s the biggest hospital of the city and closest to your parents, so it was a safe bet that that’s where they’ve taken Nathan.

“Yeah.” You hear your father tell your mother that everything’s going to be alright, but his voice is shaky, like he doesn’t quite believe himself, and your heart goes out to them.

“Ok, Dad?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I’m going to see what flight I can get on and I’ll let you know, ok?” you rub your forehead, “I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

“Ok,”

“Are you allowed to see Nathan?”

“Uh, yeah, they let us go in, Sarah’s with him now,” your father answers calmly, but you can’t help but wonder how he’s keeping up.

“Ok, will you please tell him I’m on my way?”

“He can’t hear us, darling.”

“I know, Dad,” your voice is soft, “will you please tell him anyway?”

“I will.” He clears his throat. “You be careful ok?”

“I will. I’ll text you when I know more, ok?” You cross your fingers then, “It’s going to be ok, Dad.”

“I sure hope so, darling.” He says before he tells you he loves you and hangs up the phone.

“Jesus,” you mutter quietly, but it must have been loud enough for Sebastian to hear because he turns towards you, a worried look on his face. You walk towards him and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, but failing, your voice shaky when you explain, “My brother’s uh,” another breath, “he’s had an accident.” You look up at him, “I have to go home.”

[queenstormbornn]

Outlander 4x13 SEASON FINALE SPOILER ....

okay ... so I just watched the outlander finale and overall it wasn’t my favorite but it wasn’t bad either.

1. really missing LJG in this episode.

2. did we really think the Mohawks were going to hand over Roger that easily?

3. I love how Claire always looks dirty lol.

4. loved the story of the time traveler. didn’t think he would’ve been killed by his own so I found that interesting.

5. I didn’t realize Claire was wearing the stone because I didn’t think it meant that much to her???

6. Jamie and Claire can never do a rescue mission and it turn out successfully. Hello? Wentworth Prison? Both times.

7. um ... Jamie ready to make amends with his daughter if that means taking the place of Roger. Dad goals?

8. Claire’s desperation of losing Jamie again nearly broke me. We haven’t seen them have a lot of emotional moments between one another this season — as everyone complains about — but god, you could feel the love, passion, chemistry, and desperation in that one scene.

9. Ian sacrificing himself so Jamie and Claire can be together and Jamie can finally be a father (in person) ... Ian, I love you. You’re making me cry. Seriously Ian is like a son to both Jamie and Claire.

10. Top notch acting between Sam, Cait, & John Bell but especially between Sam and John.

11. Roger beating Jamie ... uh. I understood his anger, but wailing on Jamie. I did not like it. But props to Jamie for taking it.

12. Claire, step in now. We understand how hard this is for her watching her man get beat and all but, I would’ve stepped in after one punch and been like alright. Enough.

13. Claire telling Roger. Superb acting. Richard really is talented. Showcasing the mixed feelings Roger feels. Relief, anger, sadness, heartbreak, disgust, etc.

14. Jamie — your protectiveness needs to tone down just a bit. Claire, scolding him cracks me up but annoys me too. She’s always been a voice of reason for Jamie. A bit too clichè writing for me here.

15. Roger — you have to think about going back to Brianna?? Granted the kid might now be yours but you love her. If you had to think about going back — do you really 100% truly love Brianna as much as you claim?

16. Murtagh and Jocasta — I ain’t hating it. Murtagh needs some action. He deserves it. Let him get it. Besides they’re cute.

17. Brianna, you going to drop that kid on the floor by how you’re squatting! Also, cute how Murtagh was standing outside the door. Was really hoping LJG would be there too.

18. Baby’s cute. Weird to see Brianna as a mom now & realize Jamie & Claire are grandparents.

19. Where is Fergus and Marsali? I miss how cute they are. Those damn dorks lol.

20. (Forgot about this part — to lazy to go back and change the numbers so I’m adding it here). Loved the bonding moment between Murtagh & Brianna. Murtagh always looking out for Jamie. Girl, we done knew you forgave Jamie. Now tell him, he’s desperate for your love and approval. Let him give that to you.

21. Jamie and Claire arriving. Brianna not seeing Roger. Claire telling Brianna they told Roger everything and the heartbreak and realization that Roger doesn’t want her because of what happened to her ... SOPHIE YOUR ACTING SKILLS KILLED ME .. I was crying with you. I’ve been in similar shoes.

22. Claire holding baby J. Seriously tho, why didn’t Claire give baby J to Jamie? Writers, explain????? For me, that didn’t make any sense. Yet, babies are weird and maybe the baby (actor) wasn’t having it with Sam holding him? That’s a reason ... but highly doubtful. Everyone loves Sam.

23. Claire and Brianna having a mommy/daughter moment.

24. Can we not have a daughter/dad moment? Where Brianna tells Jamie all is forgiven and she loves him. Again, writers? Explain?

25. Awkward family dinner. Murtagh? Jocasta? care to explain this new romance? Spill that tea sis.

26. Oh hey, Brianna. Glad you joined. Also why would Brianna sit between Jamie and Claire? That was weird. Clearly when there was an empty seat next to Murtagh.

27. Claire & Jocasta are fine now. That’s cool I guess.

28. Brianna packing in front of the window ... sad song montage like in Mamma Mia? No? You’re missing a real opportunity here.

29. Oh here comes LJG? Nope, damn. It’s Roger.

30. I do like Roger, I promise, but LJG ...... I mean, we can change that part of the book? Erase Roger’s storyline and have Brianna and LJG fall in love .. I mean ... the actors have mad chemistry and I love some family drama. Da, mom, I’m in love with a man who’s in love with Da but also loves me ... it’s a great story to tell the future kids ... right? Too soon?

31. Brianna running to Roger had me laughing.

32. My thoughts while Roger and Brianna were hugging and kissing, “dude he must smell so bad and his breath ... he probably hasn’t brushed his teeth in so long ...”

33. Also, don’t really like the fact they had them kissing and Brianna all over Roger. In the books, she was a little skittish towards him ... which is understandable after what happened to her. Correct me if I’m wrong? But I get the writers wanted to add that “finally” moment.

34. Redcoats!! LJG IS HERE .... oh crap, Murtagh! Did LJG rat him out? **pulls up my sleeves and takes out earrings** Murtagh is that magic of season one and two. I will riot if anything happens to my precious bean.

35. If he’s running to the slave quarters, can the redcoats not see Murtagh running across the fields?

36. Oh it’s for Jamie. Oh god, is it war time?

37. .... KILL MURTAGH. Bitch, hahaha. Yeah, right.

38. Oh that’s the end? That wasn’t really a dramatic, cliffhanger ending. I kind of wanted like a flash forward timeline of six months where Roger and Brianna were working on their relationship and healing. Marsali and Fergus there with their child. Omg baby play date!! Jamie and Claire looking over their children and talking about how this is home and how much love is being surrounded by them, etc.

39. (Forgot to add another thing) loved Ian proving his worth to the Mohawks. His little proud smile. He’s a man. Jamie would be so proud of him. He’s like a damn puppy dog.

Overall: had a few complaints, but it was alright! Not my favorite season finale, or episode but it did okay.

Again, too much hate already been spread around here and on Twitter. I agree with two things,

1. Get new or add more writers who understand the thing that makes outlander, outlander is Jamie and Claire’s relationship and though, I didn’t have a problem with the lack of sex, I did feel like their relationship was a little dull this season.

But again, we have a lot of new characters that are becoming main characters.

2. Maybe have Claire stop treating Jamie like a child at times and actually sticking up for her man. I get it, it’s Brianna, her daughter, but it’s Jamie and I hate to say it, book Claire loved/loves Jamie more than Brianna and there’s nothing wrong with putting your husband before your child.

Maybe do that next season? Have Claire show her love for Jamie ... and add the “does it bother you that I don’t say it (I love you) much? Because I do, I do love you Jamie, you know that right? ” “Aye, but I’d like for you to say it more,” scene next season.

Thoughts?

[lilpootworldtour]

Friday 11/20/2020 Snyder, TX - Roswell, NM Wakey, wakey walmart warriors, it is FRIDAY and we have a rendezvous with an alien crew! With that excitement in the air, we hopped out of bed, made our breakfast and coffee and Hannah got to work! I believe Dave was on breakfast duty and slacked off the rest of the day, it being his day off. There was certainly some shopping at Walmart, both in the morning and at lunch, for our daily lunch walk. As we neared the end of the work day, Dave put up all the camper accoutrements, so we could be on the road by 4:30. Sure enough we were and headed for Roswell with a quick stop by a gas station. While fueling up, David checked the oil and other fluids which were all top notch before popping a squat by each tire and checking the tire pressure. Wouldn’t you know it, on a Friday at 4:45, the rear, driver side, interior tire was reading a frightful 5 psi. With that, we were off to the backside of the gas station where David could take everything out of the rear box to get to the spare, run inside to retrieve the jack and lug nut sockets/breaker bar. With all the tools out and all the box items on the ground around the back end of Lil Poot, Dave rolls the spare around only to remember that the spare tire is a 5-lug rim for the front axle and the rear axle is a 6-lug set up. With both hands on his head he told Hannah we will probably have to wait it out in Snyder Texas until we can go to a tire place Monday. Hannah took that information in stride and found a tire place a half mile away that was open for another 45 minutes according to their google page. With a call to Bill’s West Side 66 consisting of a poor explanation of the problem, Lil Poot was packed back up and on the way east to BWS66. Upon arrival a man outside guided us into bay two where he promptly brought a jack around the rear and started to jack up Lil Poot’s rear axle while David got the spare out and to another guy who started removing the tire. After the tire was removed, the first guy now jacking up the very rear end of the frame, causing David’s jaw to clinch thinking about it bending and pushing up through the kitchenette floor, the Lady owner asked where I wanted the rim, to which I replied I wanted the flat tired plugged if possible so I would still have a spare. This did not go over well, I believe I heard her say, “Oh, great, you don’t want a tire switch, you want a repair, we are never going home!” Then louder, “Okay.” With this, I thought somehow the first guy was able to remove a tire from a rim in 2 minutes but it is going to take 3 hours to put the tires back on? About this time the first guy was jacking up the rear axle with a second jack now that he had more room under the camper and within another minute had the rear wheels off and rolling the flat in to find the leak. That leak turned out to be a nail that could have been in for a while, me thinks a day’s travel. With the nail out, the tires were switched and shortly after, the good tire was put back on the axle and Lil Poot’s left feet back on the ground and a plugged spare rolled to David with a request to step inside to settle up. With three digit numbers in his head, David walked in only to be handed a bill for $40. Really? This place is wild. David paid, returned to his camper to clean up and was driving out of the parking lot at a cool 5:35pm all smiles and waves from the employees with a mirror like vibe returning from Lil Poot and the crew. With all that drama behind them, they plugged in the coordinates to Roswell and stepped on it! Although the GPS promised a 3.5 hour drive and an arrival time of 9pm, it turned out to be a 4.5 hour drive with Lil Poot driving 20 miles per hour slower than the speed limit giving us a 9pm arrival! Wait, what is this? An extra hour of driving but the same ETA, how can this be??? I will tell all the Lil Poots out there driving a bit slower, as we crossed the Tx-NM border our smart devices turned back the clocks an hour and gave the Lil Poot crew a bit more hope helping them keep their spirits up just a bit longer till their beautiful arrival in Roswell. If you think you have seen the greatest architecture in your town, and you find yourself booking trips to France, Germany, Brooklyn, or Sweden to absorb the energy of the architecture before heading home to live off the memories until the next trip, I have some insider information that will make future trips repeat indefinitely for a perfect life, in a utopian world, in a cozy little bubble in the desert. It turns out, all news to Hannah and David, there is a perfectly designed and constructed building on main street in Roswell, NM. Along the drive to the city Hannah and David questioned why Roswell, why not all of New Mexico, what is so special about this place to attract aliens and what is here that is keeping the aliens from exploring the rest of the state, country, continent, or world. We did not come to any conclusions until seeing this building and realizing there are two possibilities. The first is that the aliens came down to earth, just happened to land in “Roswell,” and started building their society with this perfect building first. It is perfect to us, but who knows, could be a crap shack to other alien buildings. After this building was built, they either all live in it, one is enough, or the humans discovered it and took over the area before they could finish their township. This first thought is a good one, but I personally do not think it is correct, because if this building is nothing special to them, why not continue to explore? That is when I did a little research where I discovered that John Stern and George Rainhart, two humans who have credit of the architecture, must have designed this miraculous building with divine intervention and dumb luck. The aliens then visited earth, looking for anything made by humans that had the slightest bit of taste, something that let the aliens know they made the right choice, a beacon of art and culture where the aliens could set up camp for all of eternity, not interfering, but simply watching, observing, absorbing, and learning as much from the select brilliant humans that are keen enough to revolve around such art. After discovering this building, the aliens canceled all other travel plans, forgot about any loved ones back home, or possibly sent home for everyone to see, and from then till forever aliens have hung out in Roswell chilling and chatting while sometimes being seen but described as possible swamp gases. I do believe the second thought is spot on correct as I believe every human should make a trip to Roswell, NM to experience the mathematical beauty radiating off this artistic monument that caused creatures traveling light years upon light years to stop dead in their tracks and forget everything they know, their lives, their culture, and anything else that would pull them away, to stay firmly planted in the middle of a desert hanging out like vagabonds around a McDonald’s with a hand out asking passing humans for a touch of the godliness that created the pinnacle of romance in art. Dave and Hannah got Domino’s and fell asleep to Fargo on the iPad.

Check in tomorrow for a photo of said architecture.

[witchkingkidas]

Day Two

  Again it was just a little after four a.m. and this time her sleep was interrupted by the light snoring of Haans next to her. He had done his duty like the others before him, but this itch she had growing in her required more of a personal touch to properly scratch. Justine undid her gown as she started to think about all the different men she had been with this week. Garrett was fun if not a bit goofy, Frank was the powerhouse, Benji was highly flexible and Ian was... Well whatever you call a minuteman with a large ego. Nothing was quite giving her the satisfaction she needed until she thought about Marius that time at the creek. She had almost forgot about him since it had been a week or so since she saw him last, chalking him up to being some figment of an overactive imagination though it’s just as likely that he got reassigned elsewhere. Justine swirled her clit with her finger, using the moistness of her lips to lube the area as she started to play with herself. It didn’t last for long however because just as quickly as Marius popped up, now did her mother and Justine stopped and started to think about her childhood. She wasn’t always like this, so free with her body, and yet it was probably her mother that drove her to this path beyond anything else.

  Her mother was very conservative when she was growing up and it was that restrictive nature that she rebelled against the most, starting at age twelve with a cousin and continuing with various friends until it became a game to find and try out new lovers. She tried repeatedly to plunge her fingers deep within herself, but the flashbacks of her history ruined the mood and Haans made it no easier. He was one of the photographers who came with Mr. Tillers to help on the set and after the “nude paradise” shoot that she was a part of, he basically resorted to raping her with his gaze until she invited him up for ‘coffee’. He wasted no time smothering her with his lips, a wild frenzy of kissing and tongue sucking as he pushed her up against whatever was nearby as he slipped in and out of her being that she wore a lacy black dress with no underwear underneath. He loved the stubble she started to grow as he massaged it with his hand. She instantly became moist by his roughness and her body responded in kind by playfully fighting back against him so that he would be forced to restrain her. Her movements roused the wolf in him for sure because before she knew it, he had her face down in the sheets and was violently thrusting into her from behind unable to control himself as the bed started to rock and creak with each thrust. Justine couldn’t have asked for more in this moment as he gripped her hair and nibbled on her lobe while not missing a stroke, he was a master at using what he had even if it was not big at all.

  Sadly though, the Haans she wanted this second was instead fast asleep as he shifted positions much like a dog with a nightmare. He was not a bad looking man; in fact, he very well could have been a model himself as long as it wasn’t underwear since his member while satisfactory enough, was still quite small for a man of his stature. He came off as the conceited type, a man born into vast fortunes and with that money he funded many ventures like the Arts, History and travel, all of which saw diminishing returns. He was sculpted like many men that frequented the pages of Klein or what have you: Beach blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun, a brown five o’clock shadow lining his face and lips, a tattoo of a English dragon upon his left breast with the tail curled around his nipple --an odd design for sure, but enticing nonetheless-- with a body clearly waxed of any hairy imperfections. He spoke with a distinct American accent however, possibly a native of the States and not Wales where his family was housed sometime after World War 2 or so he had said. He stood about 5′7, 5′6 without his shoes, and his hands were small, but powerful. He was truly a lot of man packed into a neat frame.

   Justine sat up in the bed and studied him for a bit, how his chest rose and fell gently through light snores, how his boxers hung just low of his waistline or how he slept with one arm tucked behind his head and the other constantly fidgeting in and attempt to find its own home. She mused over how filthy his language became during sex, maybe an act put on for her, or something that got him off, either way it was mostly distracting and downright hilarious the first time he uttered ‘I’m sending you to Boomtown’ before inserting himself into her ass for the finishing thrusts of the first round for the evening. She could tell that this sort of thing came easy to him; sleeping around with beautiful women that is, she wondered who else on the assignment that he had laid into with his cheesy lines and half chubbed cock. No; he was not bad, but this was only another notch in the belt for her after all, love could wait until the end of time and then wait some more if it was up to her. She played the scenario over and over in her head, how he’d wake up and gather his things from around the room and attempt to say some line that might allude to wanting to see her again, but Justine knew that even if her head shook yes, she would decline him, forever bored of planting her flag twice in one area. Her appetite had been steadily growing as of late for something a little more chaotic.. a bit more punishing while not being anywhere near what she experienced that other time.

  Before long, the clock flashed five a.m., an early sunrise was hitting the window and she crossed the hotel room to run a hot shower. The droplets fell upon her skin like meteors, each one as hot as could be until her body adjusted. No bugs this time, no painful bruises on her arms, no gashes to speak of. Haans, if nothing else, was a perfect gentleman in bed and she could hear the jingle of his ringtone as he yawned and talked to himself a bit, it was quite apparent that he did not intend to spend the night. Justine chuckled to herself a bit, reminded of the days long ago when she would sneak out of windows before wives and girlfriends came home, how she was the other woman in some phone and how much of a rush it gave her that she could give a man what the woman they married couldn’t.

  Haans poked his head into the bathroom, his lungs filling with the steam and bathing oils as he bid Justine farewell, claiming to have needed to rush because he was late for an appointment, but he was really avoiding being seen by other staff awaking and moving about, sleeping with a co-worker after eye fucking for a week straight? Scandalous. Justine told him bye as he quickly went for the door, understanding that the tan line on his finger was just what she expected it was, but who it was paired to she had no idea nor did she care. The shower ran for a bit longer while she stood and ran her fingers across the white tile. It would be her last few days at this location and though she longed for home for a bit, she was determined to Marius again,

to confirm the reality of her phantom..

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*The image that inspired this is posted beneath the piece*

“They don’t mean it,” said Grandmother, “You father’s a stubborn one.”

            Blaine dropped the last name into the jar, and Grandmother added the Roses, Lavender and Sweet Pea. The scientific name of each spilled from her lips like that of an auctioneer, and she sprinkled it in sugar. Her hand shook as she gripped the jar of honey and began to pour. When it was filled to the rim, she sat the jar down, and screwed on the lid. “Three days in the sun,” she said, “And we bury it beneath the Willow.” It stood in the corner at the edge of the garden, sheltering the ground foliage. Blaine stood from his chair, and eyed the garden. He’d helped her expand it last summer, digging into the dirt that made up the backyard. Plastic spoons stuck from the ground, Grandmother’s cursive script labeling each and every plant.

 Bring peace and harmony to a squabbling family, read the piece of paper containing the recipe. Patience wasn’t in Blaine's vocabulary, and he smiled weakly at his grandmother.

 Three days later:

 They walked through the maze of the garden, Grandmother cooing at each flower, and touching the heads of the new blooms. It was the morning of the fourth day, and Blaine had barely slept. He stifled a yawn, and followed close on his Grandmother’s heels, his pajama pants dragging the Earth. The Mason jar was tight in his hands and he cradled it like a delicate artifact. Grandmother stopped at the trunk of the tree, swiping the hanging willow branches out of the way, and motioned Blaine beneath. “Give me the jar, and start digging,” she said.

It had rained overnight, and the ground was damp with it. Blaine clawed into it, like a frantic puppy digging for a bone, and pushed the dirt to the side. He unearthed several night crawlers, and they wriggled in panicked bursts.  “That’s deep enough,” said Grandmother. She pushed the jar into Blaine's raised hands, and Blaine tucked it snugly into the ground. He covered it in dirt, and rose, wiping his hands on his pants; mud packed beneath his fingernails.

“Now we wait,” said Grandmother, and grasped Blaine's hand. “How does breakfast sound,” she said. 

“As long as there’s coffee,” he said, a rough laugh escaping his throat.

The days passed slowly, and since he’d been caught at the tree once already, he avoided it like a plague. Grandmother said it wouldn’t do any good, but he caught her watching it from the kitchen window each morning as she steeped her tea. “Mother Nature will take care of it she said,” and winked. She didn’t have any doubt, but Blaine had never put much stock into spells.

On the eighth day, Grandmother entered the kitchen and began shooing Blaine from the kitchen. He was hovering over the coffee pot, waiting for the last drops to fall into the pot. “It’s time, she said, and ushered him out the back door. They approached the tree, and from a distance, it didn’t look any different, perhaps it had wilted a little, but Blaine couldn’t be positive. He found himself paying more attention to the rhythmic hum that pulsed like a heartbeat. Up close, it was a different story. The small buds that had marked the Willow’s branches had shriveled into black notches, and Blaine pressed one tight between his fingers. It burst, seeping a syrupy, black liquid that stung his skin. He spit on his hands and rubbed it away, but the flesh had already turned a light shade of red. The foliage that had been tucked beneath was gone, and the roots of the tree had shredded the earth, and sat nearly atop it. Night crawlers streamed from the dirt, carving trenches, as they fled.

“Peace and harmony should grow day by day,” said his grandmother in a hushed tone. 

She screwed up her face, and touched one of the branches as Blaine had. The pods were growing bigger by the minute, and had begun to burst without being disturbed. The inky liquid rained to ground, and what landed on the exposed roots stained it, and traveled up the trunk in veins.    

“Something’s gone wrong,” said Grandmother.

She wiped her hands on the bottom half of her dress and took a step back. Blaine had taken to the dirt, his knees tight to the earth, and had begun digging at it furiously. After several raking motions, the brassy lid of the jar was visible, and Blaine dug his fingers around it until it began to unhinge.

The contents of the jar had gone black; the flowers released a rotten sweetness even though the lid was still tightly in place. Blaine ran his hand around it in a circular motion, and pulled it close to his face. Hair line fractures had begun to accumulate on the jar, and he could feel the roughness beneath his fingertips. Grandmother had extracted the weathered piece of paper from the pocket in her dress, and studied it with her glasses balancing on her nose. “Did you bother the jar, Blain,” she said, but didn’t bother looking him in the face. He pulled the jar from his face, and thumbed at the lid.

“I added your name,” he said. His tone had dropped, and he side-eyed his grandmother. “After it was placed in the ground?” She’d moved her eyes to stare at Blaine, and pushed a shaking hand to his shoulder. “You dug it up?”

Blaine nodded. “I forgot to add your name,” he said.

“You weren’t supposed to touch it boy. It’s turned into a damned curse!”

Blaine stooped to the ground once more, shoved the jar into the hole, and began frantically covering it in dirt.

“It’s too late,” said Grandmother, and she moved from the tree, and towards the table. Blain ignored her, and packed the dirt firm beneath his palm. He held his breath tight in the pit of his stomach and had begun to go dizzy when he realized she was no longer there. Grandmother sat in her favorite chair, the one that was facing the garden, and watched as the rot stretched across it in tendrils. It grabbed at the flowers, encircling them in thin, black veins.

“Spells aren’t meant to be messed with,” she said.

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Staff Picks: Our Favorite Posts of 2017

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Staff Picks: Our Favorite Posts of 2017

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2017 has been a pretty great year for Serious Eats. We’ve broken traffic records left and right, we’ve been lucky enough to hire some amazing new colleagues, and we’ve managed to crank out some top notch recipes, techniques, and features, all while juggling a host of different complicating factors—three babies were born (!), one of the head honchos got married (!!), and half the office got addicted to a silly trivia game on their iPhones (!!!). Here are some of our team’s favorite pieces of content from the year.

East, West, Then Backward: Falling for Groundnut Soup in Ghana

[Illustration: Laura Freeman]

A study abroad trip to Ghana leaves a student of color feeling profoundly othered, withdrawn from both his fellow travelers and the community he’d hoped would embrace him. The significance of food, family, and mealtimes courses through each juncture of the narrative—and lands the reader with an incredibly delicious recipe for peanutty, meaty groundnut soup.

It’s a moving and beautifully composed piece, but it’s the author’s powerful honesty and introspection that make this piece such an engaging read. Sara’o Bery is a longtime friend, which doesn’t always bode well for a joint professional undertaking, but in this case, I couldn’t be more thrilled to have played a part in giving this piece an audience. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

Read the full story about Ghanaian groundnut soup »

Grilling With Vinegar

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I have a lot of reasons to pick Michael Harlan Turkell’s summertime series on grilling with vinegar as my favorite post(s) of the year. First, selfishly, because it meant that I got to hang out with him multiple times throughout the summer as we worked our way through his recipes, using a grill we’d set up on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Standing in the sunshine and drinking cold beers with a friend while grilling up a storm is about as good as my job gets. But on top of that, I just love his recipes: He has so many creative, unexpected, and goddamned delicious ideas for how to use vinegar in grilled foods. There are the burgers spiked with Japanese black vinegar, dripping with melted cheese and slathered with a black olive mayo; there’s the tart and herbal chimichurri sauce spooned not onto the obvious steak but sweet and plump grilled squash instead; a Spanish-inspired grilled scallion and endive salad topped with a creamy, nutty, and spicy sauce; and—who can forget—grilled peaches on grilled poundcake with a perfectly sweet-sour cider-caramel sauce that should be a classic all on its own. —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

Read our full series on grilling with vinegar »

Cheesy Bread Is Absurdly Good, No Matter What You Call It

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Writing a post about cheesy bread could so easily become, well, cheesy. But Sohla’s cheesy bread post was so full of easy-to-digest, cheese-filled wit and wisdom I almost forgot it was about one of my favorite snacks in the world. Her post had me at the second line: “In our wedding vows, my husband promised to have and to hold and to always keep the fridge stocked with three varieties of cheddar.” She makes baking them sound like the easiest thing in the world, and for an unconfident baker like me, that is incredibly reassuring. And when you get to the end of the post, be prepared for one of the great visual kickers in Serious Eats’ eleven-year history. Thank you, Vicky Wasik. —Ed Levine, founder

Dive into the cheesy bread experience »

The Definitive Guide to Eggs

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When I first started at Serious Eats earlier this year, the team was deep in the throes of developing The Definitive Guide to Eggs, a.k.a. “The Egg Page.” It was a gargantuan effort of collecting techniques, creating guides to the different shapes and sizes, decoding the terms and labels you find on the carton…the list goes on. It was perhaps the best way to get to know my new team. From the videos produced by the culinary and visual teams, to the user-friendly experience designed by our dev team, to every quick-hitting blurb written and edited by the editorial team, everything came together in a smart and savvy product. I’ve come to learn that such a product is standard at Serious Eats, thanks to the talented folks I get to call coworkers. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Explore the Serious Eats Definitive Guide to Eggs »

Chaat Your Mouth: How to Make the South Asian Street Food at Home

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I love how Sohla’s recipes often start with a story. From the first line, you’re with her in that airplane cabin hurtling its way towards Dhaka, tightly packed in with relatives and strangers alike passing the time by flinging heated opinions to and fro on what constitutes the best chaat, where to get it, and even when to consume it to mitigate the effects of certain digestive ailments. It sets the scene for how you should think about chaat: as a chaotic, beautiful mess of personal preferences synthesized and represented in a dish. It’s customizable, highly subjective, and somewhat hard to pin down, but Sohla does just that. She hands you the essential components, a roadmap to the key flavor profiles, and a dizzyingly detailed but comprehensively clear breakdown of the adjustments you can make to create a satisfying version of your own. My favorite part? How she describes kala namak, personified as a condiment with attitude that lends the dish’s foundational chaat masala spice blend “a bossy bit of savory funk.” Lyrical genius. —Marissa Chen, office manager

Read all about chaat »

Staff Picks: Our Favorite Fictional Foods

[Illustration: Katie Shelly]

Spending hours of my day geeking out with my coworkers about the most fantastic scenes of food and drink from our favorite childhood books and movies isn’t what I’d call “work.” Neither is having a serious discussion over whether the two pizza slices in the Saturday Night Fever illustration should be neatly stacked or remain slightly splayed, and whether the central figure was adequately representative of Tony Manero. Neither is eagerly, secretly reloading comments once the piece was published to see who out there might have been fascinated by some of the same things we were as kids. Writing and editing this post was delightful proof that nothing unites like youthful nerdery. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Check out our favorite fictional foods »

How to Make a Mixed-Green Salad Like You Actually Care

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The state of salad in this country is a sordid mess, and the problem starts with the greens. Take a stroll down the salad aisle in any supermarket and you’ll see stacks upon stacks of prewashed stuff—salad mixes and plastic clamshells filled with insipid “baby” lettuces—as if all good taste had been sacrificed to the great god of Convenience. There is a reason bottled salad dressing is so aggressive, so cloyingly sweet: Good greens don’t need much more than a little acid and good olive oil, or a light vinaigrette. Daniel offers up what might seem like remedially simple advice in this post, but it’s advice that is sorely needed. Salad shouldn’t be a chore to make, or to eat; salad should be celebrated, from the moment you purchase the greens until you finish your plate. All it takes is a little care, a little inspiration in the supermarket aisle, a tiny wee bit of patience once in a while, and you’ll be surprised at how much you look forward to the salad portion of a meal. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about how to step up your salad game »

The Best Things I Ate in Japan

[Photographs: Daniel Gritzer]

I’ve never been obsessed with the idea of seeing (or eating my way through) Japan. I love traveling, sure, and Japan is on my list, but it was never particularly high on my list until I edited Daniel’s essay on his favorite bites from a visit there. This is not a travel piece, not a series of restaurant reviews, and not a primer on Japanese foods that are uncommon in the West, but it includes elements of all three, and the result is a low-key window into the country’s cuisine that makes it seem simultaneously more approachable and more exciting to me than before. It just might convince you that blowfish sperm is a thing you want to put in your mouth. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Join Daniel on his culinary adventure through Japan »

The Food Lab: How to Make Kickass Quesadillas

[Photograph: J. Kenji López-Alt]

Kenji’s “Kickass Quesadilla” post is probably the one I used the most this year. There are three recipes attached, but let’s be honest, you don’t need them. If you’re anything like me, your quesadillas are rarely pre-planned beyond gazing into your fridge and realizing you have tortillas, cheese, maybe some random leftovers/vegetables/pickles, and a strong desire not to go outside. That’s really all you need to make a good quesadilla, but if you read Kenji’s tips and apply them, you’ll almost certainly make a great one. —Paul Cline, developer

Check out our quesadilla pro-tips »

The Pho I Lost

[Photograph: Max Falkowitz]

I have the pleasure of sitting next to Sho at the office. While I sometimes jokingly refer to him as the office curmudgeon, he has come to be a good friend and I appreciate how discerning he is about pretty much everything. I think this friendship really developed after I read his story about pho, taste memory, and his mother. I admired the courage (and ability) it took to write about and share the feelings and memories he describes. And the fact that he can eat two bowls of pho in one sitting (and do that every day for two-and-a-half weeks) is just…well, that’s something to respect. —Ariel Kanter, marketing director

Read about Sho’s long-lost pho »

For the Most Flavorful Piña Colada, Freeze Everything

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The piña colada is one of those things—like pasta —that is surprisingly hard to get a good version of when you’re eating out. Growing up, the PC was a special-occasion drink and my mom’s go-to at our family’s Italian weddings. That’s where I first had one, at around 12 years old, when she ordered a small (not virgin) one for me—God bless European parents. I love Daniel’s story because the big tip—to freeze everything—is that one little step that can make your shopping trip to buy coconut cream worth it. Trust me, I made several batches of these while testing blenders and it works. The taste is sweet, but not too sweet, with clean, creamy coconut and pineapple flavors, and just the right amount of rum. —Sal Vaglica, equipment editor

Learn how to make piña coladas like a boss »

What Is “Traditional” Soju?: A Spirited Debate

[Photograph: Emily Dryden]

I like to think I know a little bit about Korea: I’ve had Korean friends my entire life, I’ve been there more than a few times, and my father has lived in Seoul for close to a decade now. So I also thought I knew pretty much all there was to know about soju, the nation’s ubiquitous and beloved liquor. When we got the pitch for this piece, what struck me most wasn’t just my own ignorance about soju’s long history (I am never, ever surprised by the depths of my ignorance); it was how little had been written about the liquor anywhere else. This was an untold story in English, one that we were in a unique position to be able to offer a wide audience. Add to that the fact that in delving into the story of what “traditional” soju is, Josh managed to weave into the narrative much of what makes South Korea such a remarkable place—its ultra rapid industrialization and modernization, its skyrocketing cultural capital—and I can say without a doubt that it was my favorite feature of 2017. It was a privilege to publish it. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about soju »

How Oreos Got Their Name: The Rise of an American Icon

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Nothing grabs my attention more than the thrilling histories behind iconic foods. Lucky, that’s Stella’s forte, as she dives deep into the corporate intrigue and betrayal behind the beloved biscuit. Walking down the snack aisle has never felt the same after reading about the cutthroat cookie war that culminated with Oreo taking the throne. I’m eagerly awaiting the movie adaptation. —Sohla El-Waylly, assistant culinary editor

A rich and totally unexpected look at the origin of Oreos, by the one and only Stella Parks. I am lucky enough to work with Stella once a month, where I have the pleasure of witnessing her deep knowledge base and attention to detail first-hand. It’s front and center in this piece, as is her intense curiosity about all things pastry-related. Her approachable and snarky style makes it all the more enjoyable—phrases like “they might as well have told Oreos to get off their lawn” pepper the piece throughout. Humor aside, it’s a zippy and fun exploration of a history you never knew you wanted to know. —Natalie Holt, video producer

Get the full history of Oreos »

A Losers’ Thanksgiving: No One Knows Your Name (But All Are Welcome)

[Illustration: Alex Citrin]

This story had me hooked from the get-go and held me straight through til the end, a tale of frozen misery, daring hope, social ambition, and conquering life with pie. —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

Read Sohla’s heartwarming holiday tale »

Obsessed: A Man and His Mold

[Photograph: Chris Anderson]

Man, Rich Shih is smart. And he’s passionate as hell. His responses to the interview questions in this article are so in-depth and intelligent that you might think they were heavily edited, but I had the pleasure of meeting Rich (and making miso with him) in the office, and he really is that knowledgable. And that knowledge is built on a fervent curiosity. This isn’t his day job—it isn’t even related—but he is all-in on his koji project, devoting years to researching and experimenting with the stuff. I can attest to the results being delicious. The article is also accompanied by gorgeous photographs of close-up mold spores and fermented products. Kudos to Sho and his wonderful “Obsessed” series about the passionate amateur and professional foodies of this world. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

Catch the koji bug, right this way »

For the Lightest, Crispiest Granola, Grab the Buttermilk

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When Stella told me she was developing a granola recipe to shoot on her next trip up to NYC, I didn’t give it a second thought. I mean, granola is great and all, but why would I spend the time making it when I can easily pop into my corner grocery store and grab any of the 10 varieties they have in stock at any given time? And then I ate it. And then I ate MORE of it. And then I took the entire jar from the photoshoot home and finished it in less than a week. This is the most addictive snack I’ve ever had. And it’s granola so…it’s good for you…right? I made it a few weeks later when my craving kicked in. It’s definitely a labor of love, but well worth the effort! —Vicky Wasik, visual director

Find out what makes Stella’s granola so great »

The Best Chicken Pot Pie, With Biscuits or Pastry

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Chicken pot pie is one of those recipes I’ve always been too intimidated to tackle; all my life I’ve resorted to frozen Marie Callender’s. Don’t get me wrong, those frozen pies are still delicious, but when Stella came out with her savory pie, it gave me the confidence to give it a try. Who knew making the roux would turn out to be so easy? I also love having the freedom to add whatever fillings I want, and it’s now a crowd favorite among my friends and family. I even got my roommate to give it a try, too, which means double the pot pies at home! —Vivian Kong, designer

Dig into some chicken pot pie »

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Staff Picks: Our Favorite Posts of 2017

New Post has been published on http://cucinacarmela.com/staff-picks-our-favorite-posts-of-2017/

Staff Picks: Our Favorite Posts of 2017

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2017 has been a pretty great year for Serious Eats. We’ve broken traffic records left and right, we’ve been lucky enough to hire some amazing new colleagues, and we’ve managed to crank out some top notch recipes, techniques, and features, all while juggling a host of different complicating factors—three babies were born (!), one of the head honchos got married (!!), and half the office got addicted to a silly trivia game on their iPhones (!!!). Here are some of our team’s favorite pieces of content from the year.

East, West, Then Backward: Falling for Groundnut Soup in Ghana

[Illustration: Laura Freeman]

A study abroad trip to Ghana leaves a student of color feeling profoundly othered, withdrawn from both his fellow travelers and the community he’d hoped would embrace him. The significance of food, family, and mealtimes courses through each juncture of the narrative—and lands the reader with an incredibly delicious recipe for peanutty, meaty groundnut soup.

It’s a moving and beautifully composed piece, but it’s the author’s powerful honesty and introspection that make this piece such an engaging read. Sara’o Bery is a longtime friend, which doesn’t always bode well for a joint professional undertaking, but in this case, I couldn’t be more thrilled to have played a part in giving this piece an audience. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

Read the full story about Ghanaian groundnut soup »

Grilling With Vinegar

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I have a lot of reasons to pick Michael Harlan Turkell’s summertime series on grilling with vinegar as my favorite post(s) of the year. First, selfishly, because it meant that I got to hang out with him multiple times throughout the summer as we worked our way through his recipes, using a grill we’d set up on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Standing in the sunshine and drinking cold beers with a friend while grilling up a storm is about as good as my job gets. But on top of that, I just love his recipes: He has so many creative, unexpected, and goddamned delicious ideas for how to use vinegar in grilled foods. There are the burgers spiked with Japanese black vinegar, dripping with melted cheese and slathered with a black olive mayo; there’s the tart and herbal chimichurri sauce spooned not onto the obvious steak but sweet and plump grilled squash instead; a Spanish-inspired grilled scallion and endive salad topped with a creamy, nutty, and spicy sauce; and—who can forget—grilled peaches on grilled poundcake with a perfectly sweet-sour cider-caramel sauce that should be a classic all on its own. —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

Read our full series on grilling with vinegar »

Cheesy Bread Is Absurdly Good, No Matter What You Call It

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Writing a post about cheesy bread could so easily become, well, cheesy. But Sohla’s cheesy bread post was so full of easy-to-digest, cheese-filled wit and wisdom I almost forgot it was about one of my favorite snacks in the world. Her post had me at the second line: “In our wedding vows, my husband promised to have and to hold and to always keep the fridge stocked with three varieties of cheddar.” She makes baking them sound like the easiest thing in the world, and for an unconfident baker like me, that is incredibly reassuring. And when you get to the end of the post, be prepared for one of the great visual kickers in Serious Eats’ eleven-year history. Thank you, Vicky Wasik. —Ed Levine, founder

Dive into the cheesy bread experience »

The Definitive Guide to Eggs

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When I first started at Serious Eats earlier this year, the team was deep in the throes of developing The Definitive Guide to Eggs, a.k.a. “The Egg Page.” It was a gargantuan effort of collecting techniques, creating guides to the different shapes and sizes, decoding the terms and labels you find on the carton…the list goes on. It was perhaps the best way to get to know my new team. From the videos produced by the culinary and visual teams, to the user-friendly experience designed by our dev team, to every quick-hitting blurb written and edited by the editorial team, everything came together in a smart and savvy product. I’ve come to learn that such a product is standard at Serious Eats, thanks to the talented folks I get to call coworkers. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Explore the Serious Eats Definitive Guide to Eggs »

Chaat Your Mouth: How to Make the South Asian Street Food at Home

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I love how Sohla’s recipes often start with a story. From the first line, you’re with her in that airplane cabin hurtling its way towards Dhaka, tightly packed in with relatives and strangers alike passing the time by flinging heated opinions to and fro on what constitutes the best chaat, where to get it, and even when to consume it to mitigate the effects of certain digestive ailments. It sets the scene for how you should think about chaat: as a chaotic, beautiful mess of personal preferences synthesized and represented in a dish. It’s customizable, highly subjective, and somewhat hard to pin down, but Sohla does just that. She hands you the essential components, a roadmap to the key flavor profiles, and a dizzyingly detailed but comprehensively clear breakdown of the adjustments you can make to create a satisfying version of your own. My favorite part? How she describes kala namak, personified as a condiment with attitude that lends the dish’s foundational chaat masala spice blend “a bossy bit of savory funk.” Lyrical genius. —Marissa Chen, office manager

Read all about chaat »

Staff Picks: Our Favorite Fictional Foods

[Illustration: Katie Shelly]

Spending hours of my day geeking out with my coworkers about the most fantastic scenes of food and drink from our favorite childhood books and movies isn’t what I’d call “work.” Neither is having a serious discussion over whether the two pizza slices in the Saturday Night Fever illustration should be neatly stacked or remain slightly splayed, and whether the central figure was adequately representative of Tony Manero. Neither is eagerly, secretly reloading comments once the piece was published to see who out there might have been fascinated by some of the same things we were as kids. Writing and editing this post was delightful proof that nothing unites like youthful nerdery. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Check out our favorite fictional foods »

How to Make a Mixed-Green Salad Like You Actually Care

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The state of salad in this country is a sordid mess, and the problem starts with the greens. Take a stroll down the salad aisle in any supermarket and you’ll see stacks upon stacks of prewashed stuff—salad mixes and plastic clamshells filled with insipid “baby” lettuces—as if all good taste had been sacrificed to the great god of Convenience. There is a reason bottled salad dressing is so aggressive, so cloyingly sweet: Good greens don’t need much more than a little acid and good olive oil, or a light vinaigrette. Daniel offers up what might seem like remedially simple advice in this post, but it’s advice that is sorely needed. Salad shouldn’t be a chore to make, or to eat; salad should be celebrated, from the moment you purchase the greens until you finish your plate. All it takes is a little care, a little inspiration in the supermarket aisle, a tiny wee bit of patience once in a while, and you’ll be surprised at how much you look forward to the salad portion of a meal. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about how to step up your salad game »

The Best Things I Ate in Japan

[Photographs: Daniel Gritzer]

I’ve never been obsessed with the idea of seeing (or eating my way through) Japan. I love traveling, sure, and Japan is on my list, but it was never particularly high on my list until I edited Daniel’s essay on his favorite bites from a visit there. This is not a travel piece, not a series of restaurant reviews, and not a primer on Japanese foods that are uncommon in the West, but it includes elements of all three, and the result is a low-key window into the country’s cuisine that makes it seem simultaneously more approachable and more exciting to me than before. It just might convince you that blowfish sperm is a thing you want to put in your mouth. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Join Daniel on his culinary adventure through Japan »

The Food Lab: How to Make Kickass Quesadillas

[Photograph: J. Kenji López-Alt]

Kenji’s “Kickass Quesadilla” post is probably the one I used the most this year. There are three recipes attached, but let’s be honest, you don’t need them. If you’re anything like me, your quesadillas are rarely pre-planned beyond gazing into your fridge and realizing you have tortillas, cheese, maybe some random leftovers/vegetables/pickles, and a strong desire not to go outside. That’s really all you need to make a good quesadilla, but if you read Kenji’s tips and apply them, you’ll almost certainly make a great one. —Paul Cline, developer

Check out our quesadilla pro-tips »

The Pho I Lost

[Photograph: Max Falkowitz]

I have the pleasure of sitting next to Sho at the office. While I sometimes jokingly refer to him as the office curmudgeon, he has come to be a good friend and I appreciate how discerning he is about pretty much everything. I think this friendship really developed after I read his story about pho, taste memory, and his mother. I admired the courage (and ability) it took to write about and share the feelings and memories he describes. And the fact that he can eat two bowls of pho in one sitting (and do that every day for two-and-a-half weeks) is just…well, that’s something to respect. —Ariel Kanter, marketing director

Read about Sho’s long-lost pho »

For the Most Flavorful Piña Colada, Freeze Everything

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The piña colada is one of those things—like pasta —that is surprisingly hard to get a good version of when you’re eating out. Growing up, the PC was a special-occasion drink and my mom’s go-to at our family’s Italian weddings. That’s where I first had one, at around 12 years old, when she ordered a small (not virgin) one for me—God bless European parents. I love Daniel’s story because the big tip—to freeze everything—is that one little step that can make your shopping trip to buy coconut cream worth it. Trust me, I made several batches of these while testing blenders and it works. The taste is sweet, but not too sweet, with clean, creamy coconut and pineapple flavors, and just the right amount of rum. —Sal Vaglica, equipment editor

Learn how to make piña coladas like a boss »

What Is “Traditional” Soju?: A Spirited Debate

[Photograph: Emily Dryden]

I like to think I know a little bit about Korea: I’ve had Korean friends my entire life, I’ve been there more than a few times, and my father has lived in Seoul for close to a decade now. So I also thought I knew pretty much all there was to know about soju, the nation’s ubiquitous and beloved liquor. When we got the pitch for this piece, what struck me most wasn’t just my own ignorance about soju’s long history (I am never, ever surprised by the depths of my ignorance); it was how little had been written about the liquor anywhere else. This was an untold story in English, one that we were in a unique position to be able to offer a wide audience. Add to that the fact that in delving into the story of what “traditional” soju is, Josh managed to weave into the narrative much of what makes South Korea such a remarkable place—its ultra rapid industrialization and modernization, its skyrocketing cultural capital—and I can say without a doubt that it was my favorite feature of 2017. It was a privilege to publish it. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about soju »

How Oreos Got Their Name: The Rise of an American Icon

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Nothing grabs my attention more than the thrilling histories behind iconic foods. Lucky, that’s Stella’s forte, as she dives deep into the corporate intrigue and betrayal behind the beloved biscuit. Walking down the snack aisle has never felt the same after reading about the cutthroat cookie war that culminated with Oreo taking the throne. I’m eagerly awaiting the movie adaptation. —Sohla El-Waylly, assistant culinary editor

A rich and totally unexpected look at the origin of Oreos, by the one and only Stella Parks. I am lucky enough to work with Stella once a month, where I have the pleasure of witnessing her deep knowledge base and attention to detail first-hand. It’s front and center in this piece, as is her intense curiosity about all things pastry-related. Her approachable and snarky style makes it all the more enjoyable—phrases like “they might as well have told Oreos to get off their lawn” pepper the piece throughout. Humor aside, it’s a zippy and fun exploration of a history you never knew you wanted to know. —Natalie Holt, video producer

Get the full history of Oreos »

A Losers’ Thanksgiving: No One Knows Your Name (But All Are Welcome)

[Illustration: Alex Citrin]

This story had me hooked from the get-go and held me straight through til the end, a tale of frozen misery, daring hope, social ambition, and conquering life with pie. —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

Read Sohla’s heartwarming holiday tale »

Obsessed: A Man and His Mold

[Photograph: Chris Anderson]

Man, Rich Shih is smart. And he’s passionate as hell. His responses to the interview questions in this article are so in-depth and intelligent that you might think they were heavily edited, but I had the pleasure of meeting Rich (and making miso with him) in the office, and he really is that knowledgable. And that knowledge is built on a fervent curiosity. This isn’t his day job—it isn’t even related—but he is all-in on his koji project, devoting years to researching and experimenting with the stuff. I can attest to the results being delicious. The article is also accompanied by gorgeous photographs of close-up mold spores and fermented products. Kudos to Sho and his wonderful “Obsessed” series about the passionate amateur and professional foodies of this world. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

Catch the koji bug, right this way »

For the Lightest, Crispiest Granola, Grab the Buttermilk

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When Stella told me she was developing a granola recipe to shoot on her next trip up to NYC, I didn’t give it a second thought. I mean, granola is great and all, but why would I spend the time making it when I can easily pop into my corner grocery store and grab any of the 10 varieties they have in stock at any given time? And then I ate it. And then I ate MORE of it. And then I took the entire jar from the photoshoot home and finished it in less than a week. This is the most addictive snack I’ve ever had. And it’s granola so…it’s good for you…right? I made it a few weeks later when my craving kicked in. It’s definitely a labor of love, but well worth the effort! —Vicky Wasik, visual director

Find out what makes Stella’s granola so great »

The Best Chicken Pot Pie, With Biscuits or Pastry

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Chicken pot pie is one of those recipes I’ve always been too intimidated to tackle; all my life I’ve resorted to frozen Marie Callender’s. Don’t get me wrong, those frozen pies are still delicious, but when Stella came out with her savory pie, it gave me the confidence to give it a try. Who knew making the roux would turn out to be so easy? I also love having the freedom to add whatever fillings I want, and it’s now a crowd favorite among my friends and family. I even got my roommate to give it a try, too, which means double the pot pies at home! —Vivian Kong, designer

Dig into some chicken pot pie »

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New Post has been published on http://www.cooksutopia.com/staff-picks-our-favorite-posts-of-2017/

Staff Picks: Our Favorite Posts of 2017

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2017 has been a pretty great year for Serious Eats. We’ve broken traffic records left and right, we’ve been lucky enough to hire some amazing new colleagues, and we’ve managed to crank out some top notch recipes, techniques, and features, all while juggling a host of different complicating factors—three babies were born (!), one of the head honchos got married (!!), and half the office got addicted to a silly trivia game on their iPhones (!!!). Here are some of our team’s favorite pieces of content from the year.

East, West, Then Backward: Falling for Groundnut Soup in Ghana

[Illustration: Laura Freeman]

A study abroad trip to Ghana leaves a student of color feeling profoundly othered, withdrawn from both his fellow travelers and the community he’d hoped would embrace him. The significance of food, family, and mealtimes courses through each juncture of the narrative—and lands the reader with an incredibly delicious recipe for peanutty, meaty groundnut soup.

It’s a moving and beautifully composed piece, but it’s the author’s powerful honesty and introspection that make this piece such an engaging read. Sara’o Bery is a longtime friend, which doesn’t always bode well for a joint professional undertaking, but in this case, I couldn’t be more thrilled to have played a part in giving this piece an audience. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

Read the full story about Ghanaian groundnut soup »

Grilling With Vinegar

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I have a lot of reasons to pick Michael Harlan Turkell’s summertime series on grilling with vinegar as my favorite post(s) of the year. First, selfishly, because it meant that I got to hang out with him multiple times throughout the summer as we worked our way through his recipes, using a grill we’d set up on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Standing in the sunshine and drinking cold beers with a friend while grilling up a storm is about as good as my job gets. But on top of that, I just love his recipes: He has so many creative, unexpected, and goddamned delicious ideas for how to use vinegar in grilled foods. There are the burgers spiked with Japanese black vinegar, dripping with melted cheese and slathered with a black olive mayo; there’s the tart and herbal chimichurri sauce spooned not onto the obvious steak but sweet and plump grilled squash instead; a Spanish-inspired grilled scallion and endive salad topped with a creamy, nutty, and spicy sauce; and—who can forget—grilled peaches on grilled poundcake with a perfectly sweet-sour cider-caramel sauce that should be a classic all on its own. —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

Read our full series on grilling with vinegar »

Cheesy Bread Is Absurdly Good, No Matter What You Call It

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Writing a post about cheesy bread could so easily become, well, cheesy. But Sohla’s cheesy bread post was so full of easy-to-digest, cheese-filled wit and wisdom I almost forgot it was about one of my favorite snacks in the world. Her post had me at the second line: “In our wedding vows, my husband promised to have and to hold and to always keep the fridge stocked with three varieties of cheddar.” She makes baking them sound like the easiest thing in the world, and for an unconfident baker like me, that is incredibly reassuring. And when you get to the end of the post, be prepared for one of the great visual kickers in Serious Eats’ eleven-year history. Thank you, Vicky Wasik. —Ed Levine, founder

Dive into the cheesy bread experience »

The Definitive Guide to Eggs

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When I first started at Serious Eats earlier this year, the team was deep in the throes of developing The Definitive Guide to Eggs, a.k.a. “The Egg Page.” It was a gargantuan effort of collecting techniques, creating guides to the different shapes and sizes, decoding the terms and labels you find on the carton…the list goes on. It was perhaps the best way to get to know my new team. From the videos produced by the culinary and visual teams, to the user-friendly experience designed by our dev team, to every quick-hitting blurb written and edited by the editorial team, everything came together in a smart and savvy product. I’ve come to learn that such a product is standard at Serious Eats, thanks to the talented folks I get to call coworkers. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Explore the Serious Eats Definitive Guide to Eggs »

Chaat Your Mouth: How to Make the South Asian Street Food at Home

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I love how Sohla’s recipes often start with a story. From the first line, you’re with her in that airplane cabin hurtling its way towards Dhaka, tightly packed in with relatives and strangers alike passing the time by flinging heated opinions to and fro on what constitutes the best chaat, where to get it, and even when to consume it to mitigate the effects of certain digestive ailments. It sets the scene for how you should think about chaat: as a chaotic, beautiful mess of personal preferences synthesized and represented in a dish. It’s customizable, highly subjective, and somewhat hard to pin down, but Sohla does just that. She hands you the essential components, a roadmap to the key flavor profiles, and a dizzyingly detailed but comprehensively clear breakdown of the adjustments you can make to create a satisfying version of your own. My favorite part? How she describes kala namak, personified as a condiment with attitude that lends the dish’s foundational chaat masala spice blend “a bossy bit of savory funk.” Lyrical genius. —Marissa Chen, office manager

Read all about chaat »

Staff Picks: Our Favorite Fictional Foods

[Illustration: Katie Shelly]

Spending hours of my day geeking out with my coworkers about the most fantastic scenes of food and drink from our favorite childhood books and movies isn’t what I’d call “work.” Neither is having a serious discussion over whether the two pizza slices in the Saturday Night Fever illustration should be neatly stacked or remain slightly splayed, and whether the central figure was adequately representative of Tony Manero. Neither is eagerly, secretly reloading comments once the piece was published to see who out there might have been fascinated by some of the same things we were as kids. Writing and editing this post was delightful proof that nothing unites like youthful nerdery. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Check out our favorite fictional foods »

How to Make a Mixed-Green Salad Like You Actually Care

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The state of salad in this country is a sordid mess, and the problem starts with the greens. Take a stroll down the salad aisle in any supermarket and you’ll see stacks upon stacks of prewashed stuff—salad mixes and plastic clamshells filled with insipid “baby” lettuces—as if all good taste had been sacrificed to the great god of Convenience. There is a reason bottled salad dressing is so aggressive, so cloyingly sweet: Good greens don’t need much more than a little acid and good olive oil, or a light vinaigrette. Daniel offers up what might seem like remedially simple advice in this post, but it’s advice that is sorely needed. Salad shouldn’t be a chore to make, or to eat; salad should be celebrated, from the moment you purchase the greens until you finish your plate. All it takes is a little care, a little inspiration in the supermarket aisle, a tiny wee bit of patience once in a while, and you’ll be surprised at how much you look forward to the salad portion of a meal. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about how to step up your salad game »

The Best Things I Ate in Japan

[Photographs: Daniel Gritzer]

I’ve never been obsessed with the idea of seeing (or eating my way through) Japan. I love traveling, sure, and Japan is on my list, but it was never particularly high on my list until I edited Daniel’s essay on his favorite bites from a visit there. This is not a travel piece, not a series of restaurant reviews, and not a primer on Japanese foods that are uncommon in the West, but it includes elements of all three, and the result is a low-key window into the country’s cuisine that makes it seem simultaneously more approachable and more exciting to me than before. It just might convince you that blowfish sperm is a thing you want to put in your mouth. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Join Daniel on his culinary adventure through Japan »

The Food Lab: How to Make Kickass Quesadillas

[Photograph: J. Kenji López-Alt]

Kenji’s “Kickass Quesadilla” post is probably the one I used the most this year. There are three recipes attached, but let’s be honest, you don’t need them. If you’re anything like me, your quesadillas are rarely pre-planned beyond gazing into your fridge and realizing you have tortillas, cheese, maybe some random leftovers/vegetables/pickles, and a strong desire not to go outside. That’s really all you need to make a good quesadilla, but if you read Kenji’s tips and apply them, you’ll almost certainly make a great one. —Paul Cline, developer

Check out our quesadilla pro-tips »

The Pho I Lost

[Photograph: Max Falkowitz]

I have the pleasure of sitting next to Sho at the office. While I sometimes jokingly refer to him as the office curmudgeon, he has come to be a good friend and I appreciate how discerning he is about pretty much everything. I think this friendship really developed after I read his story about pho, taste memory, and his mother. I admired the courage (and ability) it took to write about and share the feelings and memories he describes. And the fact that he can eat two bowls of pho in one sitting (and do that every day for two-and-a-half weeks) is just…well, that’s something to respect. —Ariel Kanter, marketing director

Read about Sho’s long-lost pho »

For the Most Flavorful Piña Colada, Freeze Everything

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The piña colada is one of those things—like pasta —that is surprisingly hard to get a good version of when you’re eating out. Growing up, the PC was a special-occasion drink and my mom’s go-to at our family’s Italian weddings. That’s where I first had one, at around 12 years old, when she ordered a small (not virgin) one for me—God bless European parents. I love Daniel’s story because the big tip—to freeze everything—is that one little step that can make your shopping trip to buy coconut cream worth it. Trust me, I made several batches of these while testing blenders and it works. The taste is sweet, but not too sweet, with clean, creamy coconut and pineapple flavors, and just the right amount of rum. —Sal Vaglica, equipment editor

Learn how to make piña coladas like a boss »

What Is “Traditional” Soju?: A Spirited Debate

[Photograph: Emily Dryden]

I like to think I know a little bit about Korea: I’ve had Korean friends my entire life, I’ve been there more than a few times, and my father has lived in Seoul for close to a decade now. So I also thought I knew pretty much all there was to know about soju, the nation’s ubiquitous and beloved liquor. When we got the pitch for this piece, what struck me most wasn’t just my own ignorance about soju’s long history (I am never, ever surprised by the depths of my ignorance); it was how little had been written about the liquor anywhere else. This was an untold story in English, one that we were in a unique position to be able to offer a wide audience. Add to that the fact that in delving into the story of what “traditional” soju is, Josh managed to weave into the narrative much of what makes South Korea such a remarkable place—its ultra rapid industrialization and modernization, its skyrocketing cultural capital—and I can say without a doubt that it was my favorite feature of 2017. It was a privilege to publish it. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about soju »

How Oreos Got Their Name: The Rise of an American Icon

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Nothing grabs my attention more than the thrilling histories behind iconic foods. Lucky, that’s Stella’s forte, as she dives deep into the corporate intrigue and betrayal behind the beloved biscuit. Walking down the snack aisle has never felt the same after reading about the cutthroat cookie war that culminated with Oreo taking the throne. I’m eagerly awaiting the movie adaptation. —Sohla El-Waylly, assistant culinary editor

A rich and totally unexpected look at the origin of Oreos, by the one and only Stella Parks. I am lucky enough to work with Stella once a month, where I have the pleasure of witnessing her deep knowledge base and attention to detail first-hand. It’s front and center in this piece, as is her intense curiosity about all things pastry-related. Her approachable and snarky style makes it all the more enjoyable—phrases like “they might as well have told Oreos to get off their lawn” pepper the piece throughout. Humor aside, it’s a zippy and fun exploration of a history you never knew you wanted to know. —Natalie Holt, video producer

Get the full history of Oreos »

A Losers’ Thanksgiving: No One Knows Your Name (But All Are Welcome)

[Illustration: Alex Citrin]

This story had me hooked from the get-go and held me straight through til the end, a tale of frozen misery, daring hope, social ambition, and conquering life with pie. —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

Read Sohla’s heartwarming holiday tale »

Obsessed: A Man and His Mold

[Photograph: Chris Anderson]

Man, Rich Shih is smart. And he’s passionate as hell. His responses to the interview questions in this article are so in-depth and intelligent that you might think they were heavily edited, but I had the pleasure of meeting Rich (and making miso with him) in the office, and he really is that knowledgable. And that knowledge is built on a fervent curiosity. This isn’t his day job—it isn’t even related—but he is all-in on his koji project, devoting years to researching and experimenting with the stuff. I can attest to the results being delicious. The article is also accompanied by gorgeous photographs of close-up mold spores and fermented products. Kudos to Sho and his wonderful “Obsessed” series about the passionate amateur and professional foodies of this world. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

Catch the koji bug, right this way »

For the Lightest, Crispiest Granola, Grab the Buttermilk

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When Stella told me she was developing a granola recipe to shoot on her next trip up to NYC, I didn’t give it a second thought. I mean, granola is great and all, but why would I spend the time making it when I can easily pop into my corner grocery store and grab any of the 10 varieties they have in stock at any given time? And then I ate it. And then I ate MORE of it. And then I took the entire jar from the photoshoot home and finished it in less than a week. This is the most addictive snack I’ve ever had. And it’s granola so…it’s good for you…right? I made it a few weeks later when my craving kicked in. It’s definitely a labor of love, but well worth the effort! —Vicky Wasik, visual director

Find out what makes Stella’s granola so great »

The Best Chicken Pot Pie, With Biscuits or Pastry

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Chicken pot pie is one of those recipes I’ve always been too intimidated to tackle; all my life I’ve resorted to frozen Marie Callender’s. Don’t get me wrong, those frozen pies are still delicious, but when Stella came out with her savory pie, it gave me the confidence to give it a try. Who knew making the roux would turn out to be so easy? I also love having the freedom to add whatever fillings I want, and it’s now a crowd favorite among my friends and family. I even got my roommate to give it a try, too, which means double the pot pies at home! —Vivian Kong, designer

Dig into some chicken pot pie »

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[jlcolby]

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Staff Picks: Our Favorite Posts of 2017

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2017 has been a pretty great year for Serious Eats. We’ve broken traffic records left and right, we’ve been lucky enough to hire some amazing new colleagues, and we’ve managed to crank out some top notch recipes, techniques, and features, all while juggling a host of different complicating factors—three babies were born (!), one of the head honchos got married (!!), and half the office got addicted to a silly trivia game on their iPhones (!!!). Here are some of our team’s favorite pieces of content from the year.

East, West, Then Backward: Falling for Groundnut Soup in Ghana

[Illustration: Laura Freeman]

A study abroad trip to Ghana leaves a student of color feeling profoundly othered, withdrawn from both his fellow travelers and the community he’d hoped would embrace him. The significance of food, family, and mealtimes courses through each juncture of the narrative—and lands the reader with an incredibly delicious recipe for peanutty, meaty groundnut soup.

It’s a moving and beautifully composed piece, but it’s the author’s powerful honesty and introspection that make this piece such an engaging read. Sara’o Bery is a longtime friend, which doesn’t always bode well for a joint professional undertaking, but in this case, I couldn’t be more thrilled to have played a part in giving this piece an audience. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

Read the full story about Ghanaian groundnut soup »

Grilling With Vinegar

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I have a lot of reasons to pick Michael Harlan Turkell’s summertime series on grilling with vinegar as my favorite post(s) of the year. First, selfishly, because it meant that I got to hang out with him multiple times throughout the summer as we worked our way through his recipes, using a grill we’d set up on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Standing in the sunshine and drinking cold beers with a friend while grilling up a storm is about as good as my job gets. But on top of that, I just love his recipes: He has so many creative, unexpected, and goddamned delicious ideas for how to use vinegar in grilled foods. There are the burgers spiked with Japanese black vinegar, dripping with melted cheese and slathered with a black olive mayo; there’s the tart and herbal chimichurri sauce spooned not onto the obvious steak but sweet and plump grilled squash instead; a Spanish-inspired grilled scallion and endive salad topped with a creamy, nutty, and spicy sauce; and—who can forget—grilled peaches on grilled poundcake with a perfectly sweet-sour cider-caramel sauce that should be a classic all on its own. —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

Read our full series on grilling with vinegar »

Cheesy Bread Is Absurdly Good, No Matter What You Call It

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Writing a post about cheesy bread could so easily become, well, cheesy. But Sohla’s cheesy bread post was so full of easy-to-digest, cheese-filled wit and wisdom I almost forgot it was about one of my favorite snacks in the world. Her post had me at the second line: “In our wedding vows, my husband promised to have and to hold and to always keep the fridge stocked with three varieties of cheddar.” She makes baking them sound like the easiest thing in the world, and for an unconfident baker like me, that is incredibly reassuring. And when you get to the end of the post, be prepared for one of the great visual kickers in Serious Eats’ eleven-year history. Thank you, Vicky Wasik. —Ed Levine, founder

Dive into the cheesy bread experience »

The Definitive Guide to Eggs

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When I first started at Serious Eats earlier this year, the team was deep in the throes of developing The Definitive Guide to Eggs, a.k.a. “The Egg Page.” It was a gargantuan effort of collecting techniques, creating guides to the different shapes and sizes, decoding the terms and labels you find on the carton…the list goes on. It was perhaps the best way to get to know my new team. From the videos produced by the culinary and visual teams, to the user-friendly experience designed by our dev team, to every quick-hitting blurb written and edited by the editorial team, everything came together in a smart and savvy product. I’ve come to learn that such a product is standard at Serious Eats, thanks to the talented folks I get to call coworkers. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Explore the Serious Eats Definitive Guide to Eggs »

Chaat Your Mouth: How to Make the South Asian Street Food at Home

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I love how Sohla’s recipes often start with a story. From the first line, you’re with her in that airplane cabin hurtling its way towards Dhaka, tightly packed in with relatives and strangers alike passing the time by flinging heated opinions to and fro on what constitutes the best chaat, where to get it, and even when to consume it to mitigate the effects of certain digestive ailments. It sets the scene for how you should think about chaat: as a chaotic, beautiful mess of personal preferences synthesized and represented in a dish. It’s customizable, highly subjective, and somewhat hard to pin down, but Sohla does just that. She hands you the essential components, a roadmap to the key flavor profiles, and a dizzyingly detailed but comprehensively clear breakdown of the adjustments you can make to create a satisfying version of your own. My favorite part? How she describes kala namak, personified as a condiment with attitude that lends the dish’s foundational chaat masala spice blend “a bossy bit of savory funk.” Lyrical genius. —Marissa Chen, office manager

Read all about chaat »

Staff Picks: Our Favorite Fictional Foods

[Illustration: Katie Shelly]

Spending hours of my day geeking out with my coworkers about the most fantastic scenes of food and drink from our favorite childhood books and movies isn’t what I’d call “work.” Neither is having a serious discussion over whether the two pizza slices in the Saturday Night Fever illustration should be neatly stacked or remain slightly splayed, and whether the central figure was adequately representative of Tony Manero. Neither is eagerly, secretly reloading comments once the piece was published to see who out there might have been fascinated by some of the same things we were as kids. Writing and editing this post was delightful proof that nothing unites like youthful nerdery. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Check out our favorite fictional foods »

How to Make a Mixed-Green Salad Like You Actually Care

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The state of salad in this country is a sordid mess, and the problem starts with the greens. Take a stroll down the salad aisle in any supermarket and you’ll see stacks upon stacks of prewashed stuff—salad mixes and plastic clamshells filled with insipid “baby” lettuces—as if all good taste had been sacrificed to the great god of Convenience. There is a reason bottled salad dressing is so aggressive, so cloyingly sweet: Good greens don’t need much more than a little acid and good olive oil, or a light vinaigrette. Daniel offers up what might seem like remedially simple advice in this post, but it’s advice that is sorely needed. Salad shouldn’t be a chore to make, or to eat; salad should be celebrated, from the moment you purchase the greens until you finish your plate. All it takes is a little care, a little inspiration in the supermarket aisle, a tiny wee bit of patience once in a while, and you’ll be surprised at how much you look forward to the salad portion of a meal. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about how to step up your salad game »

The Best Things I Ate in Japan

[Photographs: Daniel Gritzer]

I’ve never been obsessed with the idea of seeing (or eating my way through) Japan. I love traveling, sure, and Japan is on my list, but it was never particularly high on my list until I edited Daniel’s essay on his favorite bites from a visit there. This is not a travel piece, not a series of restaurant reviews, and not a primer on Japanese foods that are uncommon in the West, but it includes elements of all three, and the result is a low-key window into the country’s cuisine that makes it seem simultaneously more approachable and more exciting to me than before. It just might convince you that blowfish sperm is a thing you want to put in your mouth. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

Join Daniel on his culinary adventure through Japan »

The Food Lab: How to Make Kickass Quesadillas

[Photograph: J. Kenji López-Alt]

Kenji’s “Kickass Quesadilla” post is probably the one I used the most this year. There are three recipes attached, but let’s be honest, you don’t need them. If you’re anything like me, your quesadillas are rarely pre-planned beyond gazing into your fridge and realizing you have tortillas, cheese, maybe some random leftovers/vegetables/pickles, and a strong desire not to go outside. That’s really all you need to make a good quesadilla, but if you read Kenji’s tips and apply them, you’ll almost certainly make a great one. —Paul Cline, developer

Check out our quesadilla pro-tips »

The Pho I Lost

[Photograph: Max Falkowitz]

I have the pleasure of sitting next to Sho at the office. While I sometimes jokingly refer to him as the office curmudgeon, he has come to be a good friend and I appreciate how discerning he is about pretty much everything. I think this friendship really developed after I read his story about pho, taste memory, and his mother. I admired the courage (and ability) it took to write about and share the feelings and memories he describes. And the fact that he can eat two bowls of pho in one sitting (and do that every day for two-and-a-half weeks) is just…well, that’s something to respect. —Ariel Kanter, marketing director

Read about Sho’s long-lost pho »

For the Most Flavorful Piña Colada, Freeze Everything

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

The piña colada is one of those things—like pasta —that is surprisingly hard to get a good version of when you’re eating out. Growing up, the PC was a special-occasion drink and my mom’s go-to at our family’s Italian weddings. That’s where I first had one, at around 12 years old, when she ordered a small (not virgin) one for me—God bless European parents. I love Daniel’s story because the big tip—to freeze everything—is that one little step that can make your shopping trip to buy coconut cream worth it. Trust me, I made several batches of these while testing blenders and it works. The taste is sweet, but not too sweet, with clean, creamy coconut and pineapple flavors, and just the right amount of rum. —Sal Vaglica, equipment editor

Learn how to make piña coladas like a boss »

What Is “Traditional” Soju?: A Spirited Debate

[Photograph: Emily Dryden]

I like to think I know a little bit about Korea: I’ve had Korean friends my entire life, I’ve been there more than a few times, and my father has lived in Seoul for close to a decade now. So I also thought I knew pretty much all there was to know about soju, the nation’s ubiquitous and beloved liquor. When we got the pitch for this piece, what struck me most wasn’t just my own ignorance about soju’s long history (I am never, ever surprised by the depths of my ignorance); it was how little had been written about the liquor anywhere else. This was an untold story in English, one that we were in a unique position to be able to offer a wide audience. Add to that the fact that in delving into the story of what “traditional” soju is, Josh managed to weave into the narrative much of what makes South Korea such a remarkable place—its ultra rapid industrialization and modernization, its skyrocketing cultural capital—and I can say without a doubt that it was my favorite feature of 2017. It was a privilege to publish it. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Read more about soju »

How Oreos Got Their Name: The Rise of an American Icon/h3>

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Nothing grabs my attention more than the thrilling histories behind iconic foods. Lucky, that’s Stella’s forte, as she dives deep into the corporate intrigue and betrayal behind the beloved biscuit. Walking down the snack aisle has never felt the same after reading about the cutthroat cookie war that culminated with Oreo taking the throne. I’m eagerly awaiting the movie adaptation. —Sohla El-Waylly, assistant culinary editor

A rich and totally unexpected look at the origin of Oreos, by the one and only Stella Parks. I am lucky enough to work with Stella once a month, where I have the pleasure of witnessing her deep knowledge base and attention to detail first-hand. It’s front and center in this piece, as is her intense curiosity about all things pastry-related. Her approachable and snarky style makes it all the more enjoyable—phrases like “they might as well have told Oreos to get off their lawn” pepper the piece throughout. Humor aside, it’s a zippy and fun exploration of a history you never knew you wanted to know. —Natalie Holt, video producer

Get the full history of Oreos »

A Losers’ Thanksgiving: No One Knows Your Name (But All Are Welcome)

[Illustration: Alex Citrin]

This story had me hooked from the get-go and held me straight through til the end, a tale of frozen misery, daring hope, social ambition, and conquering life with pie. —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

Read Sohla’s heartwarming holiday tale »

Obsessed: A Man and His Mold

[Photograph: Chris Anderson]

Man, Rich Shih is smart. And he’s passionate as hell. His responses to the interview questions in this article are so in-depth and intelligent that you might think they were heavily edited, but I had the pleasure of meeting Rich (and making miso with him) in the office, and he really is that knowledgable. And that knowledge is built on a fervent curiosity. This isn’t his day job—it isn’t even related—but he is all-in on his koji project, devoting years to researching and experimenting with the stuff. I can attest to the results being delicious. The article is also accompanied by gorgeous photographs of close-up mold spores and fermented products. Kudos to Sho and his wonderful “Obsessed” series about the passionate amateur and professional foodies of this world. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

Catch the koji bug, right this way »

For the Lightest, Crispiest Granola, Grab the Buttermilk

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When Stella told me she was developing a granola recipe to shoot on her next trip up to NYC, I didn’t give it a second thought. I mean, granola is great and all, but why would I spend the time making it when I can easily pop into my corner grocery store and grab any of the 10 varieties they have in stock at any given time? And then I ate it. And then I ate MORE of it. And then I took the entire jar from the photoshoot home and finished it in less than a week. This is the most addictive snack I’ve ever had. And it’s granola so…it’s good for you…right? I made it a few weeks later when my craving kicked in. It’s definitely a labor of love, but well worth the effort! —Vicky Wasik, visual director

Find out what makes Stella’s granola so great »

The Best Chicken Pot Pie, With Biscuits or Pastry

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Chicken pot pie is one of those recipes I’ve always been too intimidated to tackle; all my life I’ve resorted to frozen Marie Callender’s. Don’t get me wrong, those frozen pies are still delicious, but when Stella came out with her savory pie, it gave me the confidence to give it a try. Who knew making the roux would turn out to be so easy? I also love having the freedom to add whatever fillings I want, and it’s now a crowd favorite among my friends and family. I even got my roommate to give it a try, too, which means double the pot pies at home! —Vivian Kong, designer

Dig into some chicken pot pie »

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Day 3: Train to Busan

Sorry, no zombies here.

My mom is a Korean drama fanatic, so when I was planning the trip she kept asking about Busan; hence, our three day trip here. This morning, we temporarily checked out of our Seoul hotel and went underground to finally use the subway system. We only had to travel one station down, so purchasing tickets and navigating wasn’t that bad. Luckily, I remembered seeing pictures of the ticket dispensers so I got our tickets in lightning speed. Try to have some cash ready after inputting the number of tickets. I turned around for 30 seconds to get the money from my stepdad, and by the time I turned around the screen reset and I had to input the station and ticket number again. (Side note: You need to tap your pass against the turnstiles when you enter and leave your stations.)

Again, we only had to go one station over, so it was very easy to follow the “Seoul Station” signs up until the train platform. Once we arrived at the metro stop for Seoul Station, we had to navigate by following the KTX logos. If you aren’t familiar with this logo, follow the “Seoul Station” signs until you reach a set of escalators. If you’re in the right spot, Seoul Station should be at the top to your left. We had our tickets pre-purchased from the hotel, so all we had to do was locate an information booth and exchange our pre-purchased slip with actual tickets. The buyer of the tickets needs to have their passport on hand, so don’t forget to pack it if you purchased in advance. Once you redeem your tickets, your seats will be generated right then and there. This means that we got separated seats in two different cars. I’m not sure if you can request closer seats, but I have an idea as to why that might not be possible.

My mom and I sat together in seats that faced two other people. During the 2.5 hour ride to Busan, we had several different people in the seats in front of us. Once one person got off at their stop, another person came to take their seat. My stepdad also noticed this in his car. The seats around him were never empty for long, which is why he thinks we may be separated again on the train back to Seoul. Either way I was asleep 50% of the ride. Unfortunately, Gong Yoo never appeared with an army of zombies.

We arrived in Busan during the late afternoon. Since today was a Saturday, it was even more packed in the station. I did not do a lot of research about Busan, so we took a cab to our hotel. Before leaving the station, we went to the English information desk and asked them to write our hotel’s name in Korean. Once we got outside and found the taxi stand, we were assisted to a cab. We never actually spoke to our driver in advance. The man directing us asked where we were going, saw our hotel name, and informed the driver himself.

My god that was the quietest taxi ride I have ever been on. Since we didn’t need to give our address to the driver there was zero interaction for the 30 minutes we were with him. My stepdad tried breaking the silence with us once but it failed miserably. Despite the traffic, our ride only cost about $16 (I don’t know the exact won, sorry.) However, we passed through a toll and also had to pay an additional fee (?), so the total cost of the cab was about $20. Still pretty damn good compared to the states, probably because there’s no tipping.

For the next two nights, we will be staying in the Westin Chosun hotel, which is right next to Haeundae Beach. This place is Fancy with a capital F. The service, like The Plaza, is top notch and the building itself is more traditional (less high tech than The Plaza but more reminiscent of Western hotels.) Another thing I noticed was that the staff are more personable. When we exited the cab, two staff members noticed us looking to get our bags out of the trunk and were quick to get it open and remove our bags before we could touch them. It sounds weird to say this, but they weren’t stiff like the employees in Seoul. No practiced smiles or curt responses. They smiled and insisted that they’ll bring our bags in while we checked in. And this is going to sound so stupid, but the staff’s familiarity with English was also noticeably better. The first person I spoke to threw me off when I heard an American-English accent, so it felt like talking with a friend. The receptionist who brought us to our room also laughed openly with us about my stepdad’s dad jokes. So yeah, my parents are sold on this place.

Given that it’s a Saturday, we were informed of a series of events at the hotel, including a wedding. After resting a bit in our room, we ventured out and walked along Haeundae Beach. After five minutes of walking I can see why locals and tourists love this beach. It’s normally packed to the gills during summer, but during February all you see are families, students, buskers, and hordes of Pokemon Go players (the app just became operable in Korea.) We walked all the way to the end of the path and strayed into some side streets.

We found restaurants and this one stretch of train tracks filled with students and young people taking pictures. It was so cute I wanted to stay! There was a flower bed, train shaped bush (forgot the name,) and a swing bench. It was so aesthetically pleasing but my parents were having none of it. 

Our train lunch was not very filling, so we were starving before the sun set. Once we got out of the side streets, we happened to come across Haeundae Market. This little side street is a total gem! There were delicious food stands and restaurants there with locals milling around getting snacks. My mom gave in and bought a small box of deep fried foods for 5,000 won. I didn’t catch the name but it seems very popular. Right after she got into line more and more people started waiting, and for good reason! My mom bought fried potatoes,shrimp, and squid. After she picked her items in the queue they asked her if she wanted them refried. To make it short, I’m ready to go back and buy up the whole stand. It didn’t help that a bun stand at the end of the market had amazing red bean buns too. The red bean was sweet and melts in your mouth, perfect for today’s freezing weather.

We came back later for dinner but had a few bumps in the road. My Korean is still very poor, and the first place we went to had no English speaking staff. It was a small restaurant with three older women serving customers. After my parents came in I heard the Korean word for “foreigner” being shouted to the rest of the women. All was well until I tried ordering. I chose that particular place since it served seafood, a must for tourists in Busan, and as expected the seafood dishes were on the pricier side (30,000-50,000 for a sharable dish.) At first the waitress pointed to their menu on the wall, but it was all in Korean so I kind of made a face and another waitress brought a menu with English translations. We were not starving after snacking, so I figured we could order a small seafood stew. All the dishes were priced depending on their size, so a 40,000 won dish seemed reasonable. When I ordered this the waitress immediately recommended against it and tried explaining that it would be too small (?) Instead, she recommended an eel dish, but my mom didn’t want eel and wanted to eat a variety of seafood. My parents were totally uncomfortable after that and decided to leave. None of the waitresses seemed to mind us getting up and leaving.

I was still a bit shook and embarrassed, so I just chose another restaurant right across from the previous one. I felt more comfortable knowing that their menu came in both English and Korean, and we ordered the same exact dish (a small seafood stew for 40,000 won) plus seafood ramen with no problem at all. In addition to being flustered, I was a little sad that I couldn’t try ssanakuji (live octopus) due to the price. But low and behold, out comes our seafood stew with a live. freaking. octopus. on top. None of us saw that coming. 

I could feel my mom going into near panic next to me. She and my stepdad refused to eat raw fish when I made the suggestion weeks ago, but there we were staring at a pot of stew filled to the brim with a hefty octopus about to fall off the top. Did I know how to cook this? Hell no. I tried using a hot pot approach by mixing everything around, but at some point one of the waitresses stopped at our table and spent a good 10 minutes cooking our food for us. Apparently we were supposed to cook all the shellfish so that they slide out of their shells, plus we had to flip the octopus over on the large shell it came on (”steaming it” as my mom called it.) Of course we looked like total tourists doing nothing and just looking awkward, but the waitress gave no craps and stayed until she knew the food was cooked properly. Honestly she didn’t have to do that. There were four waiters/waitresses total and the bells calling a waiter to a table were going off every second in the huge restaurant. These people were swamped and yet she stayed at our table to help us out. No weird looks, no attempting to give us instructions, just focus and the occasional instruction to another waitress to help a certain table. This lady gets all the brownie points. Seriously. Five stars for putting up with the only foreigners in the restaurant despite the language barrier.

Thanks to her we were able to have an amazing seafood dinner and an unforgettable experience. My stepdad was so smug walking past the first restaurant. After all, we got our seafood stew, the small size was perfect enough to have soup leftover, and it was the same price with some awesome service. 

To celebrate, we bought some beer and soda to enjoy at our room. This, in addition to the beach fireworks, made a memorable first day in Busan.