#and one flatmate cooked dinner with a guest she had over

[depoteka]

ironic how women are stereotyped as the ones who take care of the house etc. when i can tell you after having lived with multiple different flatmates over the years that some women just do NOT clean at all

[restorativemeal]

Menu One

Menu one from Rowan Bishop and Sue Carruthers' "The Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook"

Stats

Dinner Party Guests: 3

Injuries: 0 

Lessons Learned: 1

Instagram Story Features: 1 

Contents

Florentine Pizzaz: wholemeal and plain flour base, sour cream, onion, mushroom, tasty cheddar cheese, olives.

Apple, Celery and Nut Salad: apple, celery, walnuts, vinaigrette.

Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin: Pumpkin, wholemeal bread, yeast extract, nutmeg, egg, gruyere, cheddar cheese, sour cream.

Rowan Bishop and Sue Carruthers’ recipe book is the most inspired and grand cookbook of all. I looked at, considered and executed menu one over the last week of August. The preceding week I knew I wanted to make Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin for people that I cared about. It turns out, I actually needed to make Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin for people that I cared about. August alone had been a tumultuous month, but on Tuesday I hit a personal record of two rejections in a singular day. One, in the form of a simple “yes”, to a query as to whether I had been blacklisted, and another in response to a social experiment which when explained to a friend on the Monday it garnered the reaction, “[my name] NO”. That being said, Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin taught me that maybe the social experiment went the exact way it was supposed to.

Frazzled when leaving work that Tuesday evening I forgot to turn the sound system off (I was reprimanded for this on Wednesday morning). I walked all the way home from the supermarket after work only to realise that I had forgotten the block of tasty cheese, which I needed in order to make the Florentine Pizzaz that night. I took three large gulps of a three quarters full bottle of white wine that had been sitting in my room since the weekend and left again. I tried the petrol station first but they didn’t even sell butter, so I had to traipse further to the supermarket. My boss was at the supermarket, and as I walked toward the self checkout with my $13.50 block of tasty cheese I saw her again. Unable to face her I meandered the aisles listening to a certain song from a certain playlist.

A wholemeal/plain flour base and a cooked Florentine Pizzaz

Wednesday arrived, though I only had three confirmed dinner party guests, two of whom were my flatmates, I was still overtly positive. Basking in the glow of rejection and the promise of Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin that night. Despite my overt positivity, I was struck with an inner anxiety regarding the availability of pumpkin at the supermarket. Would the supermarket supply pumpkin? If they did, would it all be taken by other shoppers? If not, would they have it in the weight that I wanted? (1-2kgs). The supermarket did supply it, other shoppers had not taken it, but they did not have it in the weight I wanted. I stood at the pumpkin box holding a pumpkin in each hand, trying to gauge a sense of which pumpkin would weigh in the lightest. The one I walked away with weighed in at 3kgs. I drove home thinking about how it was going to take at least 2 hours to roast and it was already 6:27 PM. I had told the dinner party guests that dinner would be ready at 8:30 PM. I decided not to mention the predicament I was in. 

Slicing the top off the massive pumpkin was scary, even without the time crunch. In the end I took too much off, which potentially derailed the entire dish. Discarding the innards I replaced them with croutons, delicious now, but they wouldn’t be later. They were drowned in marmite hot water, smothered with the egg, cheese and nutmeg mixture and then sealed with the pumpkin lid before being shunted into the hot oven.

Fat Freddie's Pumpkin moments before going into the oven.

I finally had time to entertain my first dinner party guest who had sat down at the table, it was just after 7 PM and she also resided at my flat. I quizzed her on how one would slice a celery thinly and on a diagonal as Bishop and Carruthers described in their recipe for the Apple, Celery and Nut Salad. It was easy, so was thinly slicing the apple, though I had my first near miss of this journey and had to pause to sharpen the knife. The salad seemed incredibly easy, and it was, because I threw in a quarter cup of balsamic vinegar, my eyes had skimmed over the “(see p.165)” beside “¼ cup vinaigrette dressing”. My first and only actual dinner party guest pointed this out upon arrival. 

Thinly sliced apple and celery, prior to walnut and balsamic vinegar addition.

At 8:30 PM we ate the Florentine Pizzaz and Apple, Celery and Nut Salad. Having reheated the pizzaz on a baking tray while I prepared the pumpkin, it looked a little dubious put back together in the dish I had baked it in the night before. We discussed the days we had had and what we had on tomorrow, Thursday, the last day of August. Mid August, I had thought it hadn’t been as rewarding as July. I have since come around, despite rejection, despite realisation, despite loss, August has been my favourite month of the year so far, for despite that rejection, realisation and loss, an overt positivity was birthed and a new hope flourished.

Entree is served, Florentine Pizzaz and Apple, Celery and Nut Salad.

My iPhone timer went off at 9PM, I removed the tinfoil that covered Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin and left it unprotected to the wrath of my oven for the last 15 minutes to serve at 9:15 PM. When I removed it from the oven that final time, I knew at first glance - it was inedible. I hoped and I prayed that my guests were hungry, for nothing. But watching their faces light up as Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin emerged from the kitchen was enough. Everyone committed to taking a bite but no one could chew, no one could swallow. I like to think, this was user error by me, that if I had just mixed the contents of the pumpkin prior to roasting, then the croutons wouldn’t have been soggy, not so concentrated in marmite for Bishop and Carruthers promised that it tasted wonderful. I have come across a lot of empty promises this year and I have learned from them, Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin has fallen into that category of empty promises. From Fat Freddie’s Pumpkin I learned that sometimes when things seem fun and exciting and wrong, they usually are.

Fat Freddie's Pumpkin, presented and served.

[everyoneprotector]

Okay Okay okay!

So I’m listening to The Magnus Archives for the first time (I’m late I know) with my flatmate/bestie right? We listen to it as we cook dinner, very domestic yada yada ANYWAYS

I was scrolling through the art tag, happily looking for anything with my main woman Sasha James, the Best Character in the show, when I notice something. I’ve been semi successful with avoiding spoilers but my autistic ass notices a pattern that confuses me, so go to bother the bestie with whom I live.

I go “Hey, why do people change her hair???” He jokes about it being a podcast so she has no cannon appearance. I tell him thats not whats up, I want to know why people change her hair between season one and the other seasons. 

He knows this. He says its a haircut. I’m confused as to why a haircut would be mentioned since no other appearances have been mentioned as of yet but maybe its very big. I express how much I like her long curly hair, because it think thats the most based character design.

He gives me the same look he gave me a few months ago when I played assassins creed 2 and told him I would die to protect my funny and sickly new brother. They later got assassinated.

He promised she isnt going to get possessed and laughed when I asked if she is cloned but answered nothing as to if she is replaced. I live Micheal too much to fear that he does something to her I think they are both so cool.

Anyways after I told him i dont believe that shes going to be okay I also told him I was snitching to you guys so heres the snitch post. We finished episode 32 during our dinner cooking last night and had guests over tonight but I gotta say Jane is so cool. I dont like her. 

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 34

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, please don't ask me what part 

A/N: Woop, not as long a wait as earlier! I am kind of surprised that this chapter ended up being easier for me to write than the previous one despite the emotional stuff L&C are talking about in it. But I'm also extremely happy I got it done!

Hmmm, should I say anything else? I guess I just hope you guys enjoy this monster chapter! (almost 5k words, a lot for me) And please, please let me know what you think of this chapter because I really, /really/ want to know!

Words: 4900+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

It took Calypso a while to collect herself after her breakdown. On one hand, she felt bad that she had yelled at Leo like that, especially in front of Georgina. But on the other hand, she felt he had deserved it. When Leo had asked her if something was wrong, she had already been emotional because of the song and the feelings it had made her realize. When she added the frustrations caused by the ‘present incident’ and also her fear for her future and what her father might do to that, she was kind of surprised that she had managed to stay calm even that long.

After she had made sure that the redness on her face had faded a bit and she would be able to speak in a normal tone, she finally joined Leo’s family who had just started preparing the dinner. Leo himself wasn’t present; apparently Festus had been expecting a long Christmas walk, but Calypso still wondered briefly if that was only an excuse. Luckily she did quite enjoy cooking while listening to Jo and Emmie’s stories because that gave her something else to think about.

The dinner guests arrived about an hour later. Among them was a man named ‘Lit’ (Calypso had to raise her eyebrow at the nickname), who apparently took care of an actual living elephant among other things. With him was the ‘Golden Haired Dude’ whom Georgina had mentioned earlier, only he had dyed his hair brown recently. He introduced himself as Lester and he mentioned liking music, which piqued Calypso’s interest but she didn’t have a chance to ask more about it during the dinner. The two had also brought Lester’s young ‘master’ Meg with them. Calypso was still too distraught by the earlier events to really focus on getting to know those people better, but somehow they, especially the two men, seemed to be even louder than Leo was usually. Meg seemed nice, though, and Calypso found out that they shared an interest in gardening. She still noticed wishing that the dinner would be over fast so she could just withdraw into her room and try to calm down a bit.

***

”Alright, what’s going on here?”

Jo and Emmie dragged Leo and Calypso out of the dining room after the dinner. Calypso didn’t understand why; they had managed to behave perfectly neutrally while the guests had been there, at least in her opinion. Well, honestly speaking neither of them had talked much - mostly when they were asked some standard questions like ‘what do you study again?’ - but that was probably for the best. Otherwise Calypso might have said something she would have regretted.

“What do you mean?” Leo asked Jo defensively. “It’s not like I step danced on the dining table or anything like that! We were behaving just fine!”

“Mr. Valdez,” Jo used her most threatening voice, which actually intimidated even Calypso who had gotten used to many kinds of threatening in the past. “In your case that means that something is definitely going on. I have not gone through a single Christmas dinner with you where you haven’t tried to tell at least one of your favorite Santa jokes. And yes, don’t think we have just forgotten what happened this morning.”

“Besides, Calypso’s eyes have been red since this afternoon,” Emmie added. So she had noticed, Calypso sighed in her mind. She had made sure to wash her face carefully with cool water after her little mental breakdown and had even added some concealer under her eyes to hide the redness but of course these two wouldn’t miss a thing.

“And we did notice your glares at the table,” Jo finally finished the chastising.

“Listen, moms.” Leo crossed his arms. “I appreciate you trying to help but this is between Cal and me.”

“Alright,” Jo said. “Then how about you try to deal with it while doing the dishes.”

“Wait, what?” Leo protested. “Georgie needs my help with building the 1000 piece puzzle she got from the neighbors; I promised her I would…”

“Georgina can wait,” Emmie said firmly. “Leo, Calypso is our guest and no matter what your issue is, you two are adults and you should be able to talk it out maturely.”

Calypso had already learned to know the two women well enough to be able to tell that once they had decided something, you wouldn’t be able to change their minds easily. She too did want to protest because this was not how she wanted to do her ‘grand talk’ with Leo, but it seemed rather pointless. They really did need to talk, and the sooner they’d get it done, the sooner they might be able to find some sort of normalcy in their situation. Maybe. Calypso didn’t think their relationship had ever been particularly ‘normal’.

“Alright, we’ll do the dishes,” she said eventually. “But I don’t know what happens after that. I guess it depends.”

“Hmm, I guess we can’t ask more than that,” Emmie nodded. “OK, we’ll leave you two to it. And if anything breaks, remember, you will be replacing it!” she referred to the fancier dinnerware they had been using that day.

“As if I would even dream of breaking your plates,” Leo mumbled when his mothers were already on their way out of the room. Calypso almost snorted at his comment before she remembered that she was mad at him, and simply made a sound that was a bit like a sneeze.

An awkward silence fell in the room once the flatmates were alone.

“Well…” Calypso finally broke it after they had been scrubbing the dishes for several minutes without saying anything.

“Yeah…?”

“Are we going to talk about what happened today or not?” She folded her arms, dropping some soap water on the floor in the process.

“I don’t know, are we?” Leo attempted to provoke her, but he was lacking his usual spunk. When Calypso kept glaring at him, he finally sighed. “Listen. I know I acted like an idiot earlier. What else is new? But the thing is, this day is just… always getting to me. I can’t help it. I know it sounds pathetic, but…”

Leo was stopped by Calypso’s hand around his wrist. “I know what happened to your mother. I mean, the full story. Jo and Emmie told me. What happened was really, really horrible, but that doesn’t excuse you yelling like that when I was only trying to help. You also really made us worry when you ran away like that. I was afraid something was going to happen to you! And when you came back, you were acting like nothing had happened! Can you imagine how frustrated that made me feel?” Nearly tears in her eyes again, she finished. “It made me feel that you don’t care about us!”

“Calypso, calm down! I’m sorry, OK?” Leo raised his voice. “Yeah, I was selfish. And yeah, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I didn’t think much at that point. I know it doesn’t excuse what I did but let me at least explain why I did what I did before you blow up the whole house.”

“Alright,” Calypso gave in. “Do explain.”

“Every day since my mom died…” Leo started, emphasizing the two first words, “I’ve been feeling guilty about her death. Some days I feel better, but it’s always worse during Christmases. Because that’s when she died.”

Calypso had a feeling that Leo wanted to say more, so she waited quietly, trying to look encouraging.

“This morning, before our present opening, I had a nightmare. Yeah, you probably already guessed what it was about. I saw how the fire started - I had left my blueprints too close to the fireplace and it just… spread - and how the policeman told me my mom had gone inside the house when… when I was lying unconsciously in our backyard. She had been looking for me because she didn’t know I had managed to escape.” He tried to clear his throat but his voice was still cracking when he finished: “My mom was my only family and she died because I was stupid and careless.”

While Calypso and Leo had had plenty of arguments in the past, she had rarely seen him as bitter as when he said those final words. It seemed as if he was in physical pain because he was so angry at himself. She wanted to say something encouraging, but she knew from experience that there was nothing that she could say in a situation like that that could make it better. Kind words didn’t bring the people you loved back. She did, however, try to show with gestures that she understood – she really did – and she moved closer to him, gently putting her hand on his shoulder.

Leo attempted to collect himself for a moment before he continued, blinking his eyes furiously: “It didn’t help me mentally that my aunt was forced to take me in after the fire. You can probably imagine her reaction. “You mutt, you really think you deserve to live after what happened to your mother?” Yeah. That happened. She told that to an 8-year-old boy. I’m almost thankful to her that she did eventually send me to a foster home. Only almost though.”

Calypso remembered his stories of the foster homes he had been in and understood what he meant.

“I hope that this explains why I don’t want to deal with fire now. Not because I’m afraid of the fire itself. But because I’m afraid of what it could do to people I love. So, yeah, that is why I was not thrilled to get those matches on this particular day.”

Calypso had to admit that after hearing the story from Leo himself, his reaction made more sense.

“I’m… sorry. About what happened to you and about the matches. I really picked an awful time to give them to you. But I still wish you had told me all that earlier instead of just waiting to blow up. And I never meant anything hurtful; I didn’t mean you need to use them any time soon… I just wanted to show you that I have faith in you. Because I do!

Leo was quiet for a while.

“Yeah… I know you were only trying to help,” he sighed finally. “I don’t know. I had such a good day yesterday and then one night turned it upside down. It’s not your fault. Some things… just had been building inside me for too long.”

“I know how you feel,” Calypso said quietly.

“You do?” Leo asked.

“Yeah. Um, I think it’s my turn to open up about some things. You told me your story so I should do the same.”

“Okay, go on,” he encouraged, seeming curious even though he was still visibly upset.

Calypso took a moment to decide where to start from. “As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve been battling with some ghosts of my past for a long time now, and this fall has been quite a rollercoaster for me emotionally.”

Leo nodded at her.

“I thought that when I would move out… escape from my father’s mansion… I could just put all that behind me and start from the beginning. And in a way I was able to do that. I do enjoy living here. I like my studies – even though it has been very different compared to what I did at home… sometimes difficult... but I’ve never been one to sit around when I know I have work to do so I. That’s the way I’ve been raised.”

She looked up from her hands. “I’m also really grateful that I’ve met all the wonderful people who have become my friends here. Yeah, believe it or not, you included. But… All that makes my fear even stronger. I’m afraid that it all will be taken from me again.”

Leo frowned. “I don’t understand now. Why would that happen? Is it because of your father? You mentioned something about that once.”

Calypso was on the verge of tears again but she bit her lip and tried to put herself together. “I… I did something awful when I was 16… and my father wants to make sure that no one will ever hear about it.”

“What happened?” Leo asked.

“I… had some… um, relationship issues, for the lack of a better word. My boyfriend of that time had discovered that his previous girlfriend had moved back to New York, and, surprise, he wanted to end our relationship. He wasn’t the first to do that. That’s what always happened. They always had someone who was more important to them than me.” Calypso rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I was pretty down after that because the 16-year-old me thought that no one would care about me.”

Leo looked at her with a ‘that’s bullshit’ kind of expression, but for once he said nothing. She could still see that he had sympathy in his eyes.

“So, one day pretty soon after that guy went back to his ex, I was invited to a party. Most of the people there were a bit older than me so yeah, there was alcohol involved. I was shy and still really upset about what had recently happened to me so I thought that maybe a drink or two would make me feel better. But I drank way more than that because I just wanted to forget about everything for a while. Someone at the party knew my big sister Zoë and thought that it would be the best for me if she’d come to get me home before something bad happened to me. Well, ironically…” Calypso’s vision started blurring as she attempted to finish the sentence. “Zoë would probably still be here if she hadn’t come to pick me up.”

She swiped her face into her hand very ungracefully and sniffed a couple of times before she was able to continue.

“So… she arrived and when we got into the car, she naturally started scolding me. I don’t remember anymore what exactly she said but I know I deserved it. But at that moment I was being an idiot so of course we got into an argument. And she didn’t…” She couldn’t hold the tears in any longer, instinctively searching for support from Leo’s shoulder.

“It’s OK, Cal… You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to,” Leo tried to calm her down, awkwardly patting her back.

“Can you hand me some of that paper towel?” she sobbed when she managed to get some words out of her mouth, pointing at the roll on the table. “I must look like a mess.”

Leo attempted to give her an encouraging smile even though Calypso knew that must have been hard because he was probably feeling as bad as she was on the inside.

“R-right, here,” he said and pulled one piece of the paper towel from the roll, handing it to her.

“Thanks,” Calypso mumbled and swept her nose and cheeks into the paper.

“No problem.”

Calypso chuckled at the irony of the situation while she was attempting to dry the last tears. “Why is it that I was the one who was worried about you… and now I’m the one who ended up crying?”

“Guess we’re both pretty messed up,” Leo concluded for her. “But it’s OK. We can… you know… try to support each other?” It was more of a question than a statement, and Calypso assumed Leo was still unsure if she’d let him stay in her life.

“Yeah… maybe we can. But, um… I should finish my story.”

“Take your time.” Leo nodded at her.

“So…” she finally said. “We were fighting. And she got so distracted that she… I mean, neither of us… noticed that there was a car coming really fast from behind a curve and the road was pretty narrow and… before she had time to brake… the car hit us.”

Calypso’s heart was still beating rapidly when she remembered that situation, but taking a couple of deep breaths, she managed to avoid another crying fit. A couple of tears fell on her cheeks but her voice turned angry rather than sad.

“She… she died almost instantly. I don’t know how I got so lucky that I ended up with only a couple of broken bones and bruises. The driver of the other car was injured quite badly but from what I heard, also survived. I bet my father was relieved about that,” she finished bitterly.

“Cal…” Leo tried to say something but she interrupted him.

“If you say your mother’s death was your fault, so was Zoë’s death my fault. She would still be here if I hadn’t messed up at that party. She would still be here if we hadn’t been arguing on the road. So, I know exactly how you feel.”

“Yeah… there are some similarities there…” Leo admitted. “But I don’t think it was your fault. It was an accident.”

“Similarly to what happened to your mom,” Calypso noted.

Leo decided to not continue with that topic. “One question: how does your father have anything to do with this?”

Calypso sighed out of frustration. “I told you once that he basically…” She decided to change her approach. “Um, after that accident he didn’t let me go anywhere anymore, especially unsupervised because if someone had found out that I had something to do with my sister’s death… that would probably have ruined his career. Instead…” she said darkly, “he was able to take advantage of people’s sympathy. ‘Oww, poor Mister Astal… he must have been devastated after such a loss!’ But you know what?! I know… he couldn’t have cared less. The only thing that man cares about is his money and power.”

Calypso noticed that Leo was clenching his jaw. “I… I haven’t even met the guy but I really, really hate him. Trust me, I’d punch him in the face if I happened to meet him. Hard. But honestly, I think he deserves way more than that. He’d deserve…”

Leo proceeded to tell Calypso what exactly he thought her father would deserve, and weirdly enough, somehow that made her feel slightly better. Sure, nothing would ever give her back the years she had lost because of him. But at least she knew she had people on her side, and that was the most she could ask for in her situation.

“Even though I support your plan 100%... which by the way isn’t something I expected to say… I’d prefer it if you never, ever had to meet him.” Calypso shook her head. “I’ve already told you that he is capable of ruining lives if he wants to.”

“And I’ve already told you that I don’t care,” Leo said challengingly.

“Yeah, but I do!” Calypso exclaimed angrily. “How do you think I’d feel if he hurt you, because of me?”

That finally stopped Leo from arguing with her. Maybe he realized that he would feel just as awful if something happened to her.

“Okay. I won’t be hunting him down right now. But I’m still sticking to what I said after the Halloween party. If he ever does anything to you, know that I will help you. No matter what it costs.” Calypso looked at him with awe. No one had told her before that they’d be willing to risk so much for her sake.

“Why… why would you do that for me?” she whispered.

Fire was burning in Leo’s eyes. Maybe because he was angry… maybe for some other reason too. Before Calypso could prepare herself, he announced without hesitation:

“Because I love you, Cal! It’s as simple as that!”

There. The words Calypso had been both hoping and dreading to hear were out now, and there was no way to take them back. She couldn’t say she was completely surprised by his confession after everything that had happened since Halloween, but still… to hear him say it aloud… it still felt different than just knowing that it might be the case. Only a few hours earlier she herself had come to accept the fact that her own feelings were deeper than just some regular crush, and now this… She felt extremely overwhelmed.

“Don’t say that,” Calypso mumbled, not able to look him in the eyes at that moment. “I’ve heard people tell that to me before… and they’ve never meant it…”

“Yeah, but I do!” Leo kept insisting. “You should know me well enough by now to know that I don’t say things I don’t mean!”

Finally, Calypso lifted her eyes from her hands to Leo’s face. He was watching her with a dead serious expression, but at closer look she noticed that there was also a certain softness, gentleness in his eyes. The kind that made her knees feel weak.

“I know that,” she said quietly, and before she could stop herself, she stepped closer to Leo and took the towel he had been using to dry the dishes from his hands and threw it on the table. Her heart was racing and she felt a bit shaky, but she moved even closer, leaving only a couple of centimeters between them. Before she progressed from there, though, she very lightly brushed his cheek with her thumb, stopping at the corner of his lip, to let him know of her intentions. For a moment he just stared at her dumbfounded before nodding slightly while blushing furiously, and that was the only sign she needed. Moving both of her hands to the sides of his face, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him fully on the mouth.

Calypso still remembered how the kisses she had previously experienced had often felt like the other one had been in a rush to get somewhere, possibly out of his real love interest’s sight. But this time was different. When their lips touched, Leo froze for one moment (Calypso hoped it was because he was thinking ‘whoa, can’t believe this is happening!’ and not because he was horrified), but he quickly recovered from that and responded, at first slowly, lightly, but when she kept encouraging him, he got more eager. Before he got ahead of himself, though, he stopped and looked at her straight into eyes as if to ask if it was OK. That was how Calypso knew that he wanted this just as much as she did.

“Keep going,” she whispered, and Leo did what he was told to do. He pressed his lips firmly against hers and sunk his fingers into her hair, sending sparks down Calypso’s spine. Warmth spread through her entire body when he tilted her head slightly to get better access to her lips and deepened the kiss. She was surprised by how soft his lips felt against her mouth (for some reason when she had been picturing this situation – which, yes, had happened more than once, she had to admit to herself – she had imagined them a bit rough, like his hands) and she felt a little light headed as Leo’s tongue gently poke her lips to ask her to part them. She happily reciprocated and discovered he tasted like the gingerbread cookies she and Georgina had baked, which probably meant he had liked them.

Even though Calypso would have liked it to continue longer, soon they needed to break away to get some air. Her face was red, she was panting and somehow her hair had also gotten messy in the process, but she didn’t care. Why would she when she felt loved possibly for the first time in her life? Leo was looking at her gently and she wanted to reach in and continue from where they were left off, but before that she felt she needed to say something.

“Don’t tell your mothers that happened,” she mumbled while resting her head against his shoulder, trying to sound serious but knowing she was failing.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Leo stopped stroking her hair when she lifted her head from his shoulder to see his expression. Leo’s eyes were so unlike they had only been about 15 minutes earlier when Jo and Emmie had ‘forced’ them to talk. Back then they had looked almost black and emotionless, but now they were back to the lighter chocolate brown Calypso was used to, sparkling happily at her comment. It made her very relieved to see him like that; she must have done something right after all.

“Good.” She nodded and looked at him expectantly. Leo picked up the hint, but instead of kissing her right away, he lifted her on a kitchen cabinet so she wouldn’t have to stand on her tiptoes (not that Leo was tall; Calypso was just that short). Calypso rolled her eyes at the gesture, but when Leo took her face into his hands, she forgot all about it and leaned in for another kiss. Unfortunately, this time they hadn’t taken into account that there was a cupboard right behind Calypso’s head so when they started leaning more backwards as the kiss got more heated, she hit her head against it. “Oh great, of course when I finally get to kiss the girl this would happen,” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked apologetic, but Calypso just chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it. Maybe it was a good reminder for us that there would probably be better places to do this than the kitchen of your parents’ home.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Leo had to agree. Before Calypso got off the cabinet, though, she pressed a light kiss on his forehead. She didn’t know why she did that; it just felt good at that moment.

When she pulled away from him, Leo asked, sounding a bit unsure: “So… does that mean that you love me too?”

Calypso shook her head, kind of amused that this boy who could figure out a really difficult math question within minutes was so unsure about her feelings. “What do you think, idiot?”

“I don’t know… I still wasn’t entirely convinced by those kisses,” he attempted to joke but quickly received a fist on his arm. “Ow! That hurt!”

“Not a good moment to joke,” Calypso stated.

“Fine, sorry,” Leo said while rubbing his arm.

“You are lucky that I happen to love you.” Calypso stuck her tongue out at him, but before he had time to say anything, she took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Yeah. I am,” Leo said, completely seriously this time. “But how did we get to this point from my… um, issues anyway?”

Now that Leo mentioned it, Calypso realized it was a valid question. It felt like everything she had felt that fall had been squeezed into a very small package and then suddenly just popped open. But she also felt relieved that they had finally managed to speak up about what was bothering them.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” she replied. “But I’m kind of glad that Jo and Emmie closed us here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Leo agreed.

“Listen…” Calypso kept her eyes on their intertwined hands. “I don’t know what is going to happen. You know, with my father and everything. But you made me realize that I can’t just give up without a fight. That I can’t get what I want if I don’t try. So I’ve decided… I want to try this… us… if that’s what you want as well.”

“Are you crazy? I’d be the stupidest guy on earth to say no to you,” Leo said dramatically. “Even though this will sound cheesy as hell, I’ve noticed that I’m happier when I spend time with you. You know, just cooking, chilling, whatever. So, I’m thinking… Maybe together we will also be able to kick our issues’ asses. I will be working on getting over my fear. And… I guess I will also have to try harder to open up… about my past and all that… It probably isn’t always gonna be easy but hey, feel free to call me out if you need to.”

“You bet I will, Leo Valdez.” Calypso smiled at him, a real, genuine smile. “And I too will do my best to talk about what’s bothering me more. I realize now that I should have done it way earlier.”

“We are some stubborn idiots, huh?” Leo gave her a lopsided smile.

“Yeah.”

“Um, so… just to be clear… What do we tell the others? About… us?” Leo asked after a while.

“I’m thinking… maybe it would be better if we don’t tell everyone quite yet. I’ve had a lot of bad experiences in the past as you know so I’d prefer to keep it just between us for a while. You know, just to make sure that… nothing goes wrong.”

“Alright, that’s fair enough,” Leo agreed. “Although, nothing stays a secret from my family for a long time. It’s like they’re psychics or something.”

Calypso chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you on that. I swear that I’ve known them for a few days and they already know more about me than I do.”

“You’ll get used to it, though,” Leo reassured her.

“Hopefully so. Well… what should we do now?” Calypso asked tentatively.

“They’re probably expecting us to be done with the dishes by now…” Leo glanced at the clock on the wall. “But… I guess one more kiss won’t hurt?”

“I would hope so,” Calypso said and reached for him, pressing another kiss to his mouth.

[madamebaggio]

EVERYDAY DISCOVERING SOMETHING BRAND NEW - JonSa Modern AU

Summary: Jon and Sansa have been leaving together for seven months and they're great friends.

Best friends.

Even if Jon is completely in love with her. Not that he's about to tell her. He isn't.

Then Ed Sheeran came and ruined Jon's life.

Or: Sansa loves "Shape of You", Jon just loves her shape.

***

Notes: This is a one-shot, that can also be found here.

***

Jon Snow was a simple guy; he didn’t need much to be content. He loved his job, his apartment, his dog and the friends he had.

He was perfectly happy to stay home and watch a movie or football, but he was also fine with meeting his friends on a pub for a pint.

Probably this simplicity was the reason for Jon’s calm. Now, he was no pushover, but he was the type of man that acted with calm and restrain on most situations. Jon’s self-control was legendary. He never started a fight, and he didn’t encourage them. He was the guy asking everyone to calm the fuck down.

However, Jon felt like his self-control was close to over and done with.

The reason?

Sansa Fucking Stark.

Now, on his normal days, Jon could take a deep breath and explain the story calmly: he was best friends with Sansa’s older brother; Robb. He practically grew up inside the Stark’s house, and he had a great relationship with the younger kids as well.

Not Sansa, though.

She’d been aloof even as a little girl. By the time she hit high school, she was way to cool to hang around most guys, especially awkward loners like Jon. She was a bit of a bitch back then, but it was okay. Jon had been annoyingly emo during those years and Bran had been half vegetarian. Things are weird during high school.

After he moved from Winterfell he didn’t expect to see Sansa all that much. She’d moved to King’s Landing to pursue a life of glamour and Jon was -as stated before -a simple person.

He kept in touch with Robb, Bran and Arya, and time passed.

Then, one day, he was talking to Robb about his flatmate Sam, who’d married and left him all alone with rent.

That was when Robb had uttered the fatidic words; “You’re looking for a flatmate? Would you live with Sansa?”

Apparently, she’d had some kind of problem in the South and was moving away from it.

(It took Jon three months, but eventually he managed to get the story from her, and it took all of his self-control not to go South and kill Joffrey.)

At the time Jon had been unable to say “no”. It was Sansa, Robb’s precious little sister. Sure, they’d never been close when they were young, but he could remember the sweet girl that would occasionally ask him to play with her and her Barbies, or steal her a lemon cake from the kitchen, because he could reach the counter and she couldn’t.

Of course, he’d said “yes”, even though he was a bit fearful of this arrangement.

At the beginning, it was… Hard. Sansa wasn’t the girl he remembered; she was quieter, closed off, even a bit scared.

Even though she was his flatmate and they shared every single bill, she acted like she was a guest around the apartment; asking permission to do everything, even painting the walls of her own room.

Jon learned he had to be careful with her. Some days, when he was really tired from work, and she’d come around asking if she could use the blender, he almost wanted to snap at her and say of course she could, she lived there!

But he could see it in her eyes: she was scared that this was exactly what he’d do. Because that was what she’d been living with: an abusive person. She was healing, and Jon snapping at her over something like that, just because he was tired, would be the worst thing possible. So Jon was patient and calm with her until she started to feel more and more comfortable.

Which brings Jon back to his quickly fraying self-control.

After seven months living together -yes, seven months – they’d become friends. Very good friends, actually. They had rituals -footballs matches with beer and Chinese food every Thursday. They talked about anything and everything. Sansa teased Jon about his glasses and he teased her about her strange fixation with unicorns. She cuddled and spoiled Ghost so much, the huge dog was starting to think he was a lap dog.

He’d stopped cringing when he saw a tampon box and started making her hot chocolate when she was on her period -she had terrible cramps. She fixed the buttons of his shirts, and mended that one ancient t-shirt he insisted on keeping around.

They cooked dinner together, watched tv together, went grocery shopping together… They were nauseatingly domestic -Theon’s words.

And some might ask, “What’s wrong with that?”

Well, many things, actually.

And it wasn’t the tampons or the unicorns, or even the dozen coats by the entrance door. Nope. It was the dancing. And the shorts.

Mostly the shorts.

The thing was: once Sansa became more comfortable around the house, he’d see her humming and singing along songs that were in her head. Then she started dancing.

And Sansa Stark didn’t do silly, half-assed dances. Oh no. Even her little dances around the houses were…

Jon would rather not think about the word. It’d only make it worse.

Then, there were the shorts. Sansa had a bunch of those. They were really short shorts. Or maybe her legs were just that long.

And the combination of shorts and dancing?

Yes, Jon was in trouble.

If it was only that -the fact that she was too hot to handle -maybe Jon’s self-control would be fine; but it wasn’t. Sansa was whip smart, amazingly kind and sweet. She had a secret dorky side that was cute as hell. Her smile could light up the room and Jon was helpless every time he saw it.

He as fucking whipped.

The thing was… This was Sansa; Robb’s precious little sister. She was also his flatmate and friend. He might be crazy about her -not just the shorts and the dancing, but her -but some things weren’t meant to be and he was fine with that.

He was.

Really.

Ed Sheeran ruined his life.

Well… Actually, Jon wasn’t so sure about that. He had a love-hate relationship with that fucking song and how much Sansa loved it.

Pros: Sansa dancing to it.

Cons: Sansa dancing to it.

There were no winners on this. Much less Jon himself.

Sure, perhaps he was being over dramatic, but it’d been weeks! He just wanted to find Ed Sheeran and punch him for that song.

Or maybe give him a hug.

Jon was still deciding.

“Hey, Jon.”

He smiled when he saw Sansa sitting on the couch, painting her toe nails electric blue; Ghost was dutifully guarding her from his position on the floor. Then Jon noticed the shorts. Those were the purple denim ones; they had silver stars on the back pockets.

He was going straight to hell.

“Hey, San.”

“Listen…” She paused to check her work, before turning fully to him. “Marge is giving a barbecue on Saturday. Do you wanna come?”

Jon groaned. Margaery’s idea of barbecue involved copious amounts of alcohol, a DJ and -likely -the police eventually coming to end it.

He was way too old for this.

“I know.” Sansa giggled upon seeing his face. “I know it’s not your thing, but Harry’s going to be there and I’d appreciate the help.”

Harry was a wanker that Margaery had introduced to Sansa, in hopes they’d date. Jon had secretly hoped the whole time they wouldn’t.

They hadn’t, but apparently Harry hadn’t gotten the message that Sansa wasn’t interested, because the prick always tried to corner her when they were in the same place.

“So now I’m your body-guard?” Jon grinned at her.

“Jon, please!” Sansa whined. “I want to go, but he’s so annoying…”

“Ok, ok.” Jon surrendered -he already knew he would. “I’ll go.”

Sansa squealed in delight.

It was just a barbecue. What was the worst it could happen?

xXx

Good Lord, Margaery Tyrell was fucking insane!

That sure as fuck wasn’t a barbecue. It was a rave!

There was a DJ alright. ON A STAGE! There was also a bonfire -in the middle of the day -and a lot of alcohol.

No barbecue was to be seen there.

Jon had stuck around Sansa -probably looking like a lost puppy or a stupid boyfriend.

Harry Hardyng was as idiotic as his name suggested, and he’d tried to talk to Sansa more than once. She’d tried everything to get rid of him; from being polite to just plain telling him to fuck off, but it still took Jon and Margaery interfering for the guy to finally get a clue.

After that Jon managed to enjoy himself a bit, mostly because he got to dance a bit with Sansa.

He’d had a few beers, so he was relaxed and happy as they got a taxi to go home. Sansa, however, had drunk a bit more than he had. She was a mass of giggles and was stumbling around a bit, until they finally got to their apartment.

“I’m gonna hate that DJ forever.” She proclaimed dramatically, kicking her shoes off and dropping her jacket on the couch, before sitting down.

Ghost came out from whatever he was and jumped on the couch -which he was forbidden of doing -and dropped his front legs on Sansa’s lap.

Jon chuckled. She’d been complaining about the poor sod for the last hour. He’d dared to play some strange remix of her beloved song, and Sansa couldn’t get over his insolence.

Jon tried not to let her see his amusement, or she’d be a very Unhappy Drunken Sansa and he liked Happy Drunken Sansa. She was adorable.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Jon offered easily.

Sansa snorted. “Not that bad? Jon, ‘Shape of You’ is a masterpiece! You can’t touch a masterpiece!”

Jon considered saying it was an exaggeration to call that song a masterpiece, but he let this one go, for the sake of their friendship.

“I couldn’t even dance to that.” She was still ranting about it, pouting as she petted Ghost. “The rhythm was all wrong.”

Jon couldn’t hold back his snort at that, because she’d complained about it, but she’d danced anyway. “Couldn’t dance?”

“Not properly.” She insisted.

“You should send him a formal complaint by e-mail.” He teased.

She narrowed her eyes, like she was trying to figure out if he was making fun of her. “Maybe I will.” She told him defiantly.

“Tomorrow.” Jon suggested with a grin. “Now you should go to sleep.”

“No way!” She got up suddenly and grabbed her bag, pulling her mobile out. “I’m not sleeping until I listen the real song!”

Jon sighed. It wasn’t actually late; they’d spent the afternoon there and decided to leave as it got dark, but Sansa had been yawing -drinking sometimes made her sleepy -so he had -foolishly -assumed she’d want to go to bed.

Apparently sleep wasn’t an option when someone disgraced an Ed Sheeran’s song.

She put her mobile on the dock on their mantle, and the familiar beat was playing on the speakers seconds after.

That was Jon’s cue to leave. She was wearing the jeans shorts -the one with fraying ends -and her hair was on a braid, and… Well, Jon was just a guy pathetically in love with a girl.

He had his limits.

“Well, enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, already preparing to leave.

“No!” She grabbed his hand. “Dance with me.”

“Sansa…” Jon groaned, but he let her pull him closer -he was an idiot. “You know I don’t dance.”

“You do.” She insisted. “You danced with me today.”

He kinda had, but he’d mostly stayed by her side moving awkwardly.

This was different. She was pulling him by the shirt and they were almost chest to chest. She was singing along the lyrics, putting Jon’s hand on her waist, her forehead leaning against his.

Jon wasn’t sure if this was Hell or Heaven.

It kind of felt like one of those dreams he had, where Sansa told him she was in love with him, then when they kissed Ned and Robb would appear with shotguns.

He’d had this one a few times, actually.

However, her hands were on his shoulders, and she was moving with the music, and Jon was pretty sure this was, in reality, Heaven.

He wasn’t a dancer, by any measure, but even he could pull some moves every once in a while. He twirled Sansa around -she let out a delighted gasp -then pulled her back to him.

This time, when she came, she didn’t let any space between them. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her whole body against his. And by her whole body, Jon meant all of it; even her hips were flush against his, their legs kind of tangled as they kept moving.

Jon would probably have to move her, or she was going to feel the effect she had on him, and this would be awkward and she wouldn’t talk to him anymore and…

He felt her nose gently brushing against his, and he looked at her just to see that her eyes were already prepared to lock on his. They were basically the same height, so it was terribly easy to get lost on her blue eyes.

“Jon?” She called so softly it was almost lost to the music.

“Yes?” He asked, his throat dry, his voice husky.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” She asked, her breath fanning against his mouth.

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He’d been so damn controlled this whole time, but her words broke the dam.

So sure, maybe he should’ve reflected a bit more about the request, but the words had barely left her lips and he was kissing her, like he’d been dreaming of for the last months.

It actually felt like he’d waited an eternity for this moment.

He let one of his hands sink into her glorious hair, like he’d been longing to do for a while now. It felt like silk between his fingers and he wanted to undo her braid and muss her hair up.

However, he also wanted to keep kissing her forever. Jon felt her fingers also grasping his hair and he growled into her mouth. She apparently enjoyed the sound, because she kissed him even harder.

He felt dizzy with the way she bit his lips, and the way she smelled, and her sweet moans against his mouth.

It was a torture to stop it, but he had to.

As much as he’d love to stay there, kissing her forever, he needed to be sure. He needed to know this wasn’t just a drunk escaped, that she wouldn’t regret it in the morning.

He wanted to know if she wanted him the same way he did her.

“Sansa, wait.” He stopped her, pushing her away gently.

The look in her eyes, her red lips, almost made him regret it immediately, but he wanted them to be sure, he wanted them to be on the same page.

“What?” She asked, completely confused.

“Why…” He started, then stopped and tried again. “When… How did we…”

Sansa looked like she was trying not to laugh at his discomfort. “Do you have a question?” She teased.

“I just… Never expected that you would… Want to…”

“Kiss you?” She touched his chin gently. “Because I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

“You have?” Jon should feel ashamed of how needy he sounded right now, but he couldn’t. Not when she was smiling like that.

“I have.” She assured him.

Jon noticed -finally -that his arms were still around her, and she was still so entwined to him. He didn’t want to put space between them, so he didn’t.

“I’ve thought about it every time you were sweet to me, every time you kissed my forehead before going to sleep, all those times you got me chocolate because I was feeling bad…” She rested her forehead against his. “I wanted to kiss you every time you smiled at me, and those times you hugged me…” She grinned at him. “And every time you were shirtless. Though… I’m pretty sure I didn’t want just to kiss you then…”

“Sansa…” Jon groaned.

“Licking was probably more what I had in…”

Jon cut her off with a kiss.

When they parted again Sansa was breathless and her face was red and Jon had never seen a more beautiful thing in his life.

“So…” Sansa took a deep breath. “We’re good?”

If they were good? Jon was fucking floating.

“We’re good.” He told her gently, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re great.”

“So you were really looking at my arse all those times I was dancing.” She teased.

“You…”

“I’m not blind, Jon.” She rolled her eyes.

“It wasn’t just that.” He felt he needed to reassure her.

“I know.” She dropped a quick kiss to his lips. “I know it’s not.”

“So…”

“So…” She dragged the word playfully.

“Kissing?” He offered easily.

“To start.” She agreed. “Later we can talk about the licking.”

Jon groaned before kissing her again.

He should send Ed Sheeran a fruit basket or something.

Best song ever.

[mrdanielbond]

Bond’s New Flatmate (Chpt. 3)

“Were you born in a barn?”

[James Bond X Reader X Q]

[Word count; 2800 (ish)]

[Prompt; James is beginning to get fed up of how the reader is unable to notice him in all aspects, even if he lets his pride in the way and refuses to show any form of interest in her. Finally tying to aim for a change, James has a surprise in store for the reader only to come across a few ‘minor’ complications when putting it into action…]

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

[A/N: I tried to make this as entertaining as possible! So I hope you enjoy the world’s husband Q being up to his shenanigans once again!]

“I heard Madeleine is coming to visit soon. How’s that going?” Q said, walking over to his laptop and began typing, while Bond stood at his desk with his hands in his pockets.

“That’s one of the reasons I’m here. She’s visiting on Monday-”

“That’s great!”

Bond shook his head immediately, “I need you to get her off my back.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m still trying to avoid her at the moment. I’m occupied with...other things at the moment.”

“Do enlighten me. Why are you avoiding her again?”

“She’s a bit more clingy than I thought she would be.”

“Really how so?” He said with a sense of sarcasm in his tone.

“This isn’t funny. Think of a child with their favourite blanket, one that they cannot let go of at all and refuse to leave. That describes what I am trying to avoid at the moment.”

“Ouch. Those blankets do tend to be quite old and rugged.” He pulled a face at Bond, trying his best not to chuckle as the man glared at him. “Can you please get her off my back?”

“I’ll see what I can do...Not like I have a choice anyway.” He mumbled.

Bond began to smile when Q raised the question, “What is it you’re occupying yourself with? M hasn’t left you any assignments has he?”

“No.” Bond lengthened the word, watching Q finally figure out what he was talking about.

“Does this have anything to do with Y/N by any chance?”

“Yes.”

Q huffed in a ridiculed manner and shook his head, “I’m telling you. There’s something strange going on with Y/N. I fear the next time I see her she’ll probably blow up my flat again and I can’t keep paying for insurance, they’ll think I’m intentionally doing it to get money out of it. All because I said a few things.”

“Are you sure this is Y/N we’re talking about? Burning a flat out of revenge for a little light hearted flirting? Now that doesn’t sound like her.” He said sarcastically, sipping his tea. Q smiled to himself as he continued typing on his laptop, he was working in his workshop as usual when James decided to pay his colleague a visit, after all they finally had a mutual connection and that was you. So Q was no longer avoidable in this situation. For the past couple of weeks, you had been popping in and out of the flat, returning late and hadn’t spoken a word to James or held a conversation. You were just too busy to see him now you had gotten a job elsewhere at a place you hadn’t even told James either as part of a private hire investigative/forensic scientist. You had slightly been off also ever since James had a conversation with you about Q, in which you clearly stated to him that you weren’t really looking to reminisce past memories, to which Bond responded with a laugh.

“I’m being serious. Another question, is she usually so - antisocial? She’s been ignoring me the past week. Probably plotting something...”

“Yep. That is Y/N we are talking about.” He chuckled. “My dear wife does have a bad habit of completely ignoring everyone.”

James felt a sudden distaste at the tip of his tongue once he heard the term ‘wife.’ He suddenly would feel this itchy feeling creeping in that made his skin crawl and heart thump. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Anyway why are you so bent on gaining Y/N’s attention? Is there something I don’t know about? Remember James, she’s still married.”

“Oh please.” James hissed defensively, “I don’t do married women.”

“Wasn’t Lucia married when you went to bed with her?”

“Widowed.”

“What about that other one from Croatia?”

“Recently divorced. Come on Q, you should’ve known that.” He tutted.

“Harriet, that minister’s daughter from Sweden?”

“Ok, maybe that’s the only one you have on me but her husband was elsewhere. It’s also part of the job, incase you weren’t aware. Other than that I don’t do married women! Especially not Y/N whom I have no interest in.”

“You don’t find her attractive whatsoever?”

“Nope.”

“Harsh. Not even a little bit? Nothing there for her? Even if she worr a full face of makeup, prepared to go on a date?” Q smirked proudly, sipping his tea once again.

“Pft. Of course I don’t. No. That’s wrong!….God no….No.” James laughed quickly, interrupting Q. He tried his best not to get flustered in front of Q, especially over someone he hadn’t even considered having feelings for...possibly. It all made sense to him at that moment. The way he felt neglected suddenly when you ignored him, busy with work. He felt a sense of emptiness, unable to hear your laughter at something ridiculous on the television, in which he would insult, or laugh at serious situations he had tried to talk about, he couldn’t help but crack a smile at those moments. Even tell you off when you stole one of his shirts, sometimes to wear, most of the time to use for some practical experiment of some sort, meaning he’d have to reprimand you for it. It wasn’t like you two had an argument, you both were just too busy to pay attention to each other...And it was only a fortnight! Actually, the main problem was that you were too busy stressing yourself with work that you hardly even saw James, even when you returned to the flat late you were straight off to sleep and gone by the next morning. “I’m concerned for her as a friend and a flatmate...and for my safety. Not used to the silent treatment, it’s very concerning.”

“Alright fine.” Q sighed, “I know something that’ll get her attention. But you have to do this perfectly otherwise she’ll walk in and completely ignore what’s in front of her.”

“I’m listening.”

------------------------------

The weekend had finally arrived and you were able to take a well deserved rest. You spent most of the morning asleep and noticed James wasn’t in the flat so you decided to accept a friend’s invite and head off out with them for the day.

James managed to return to his flat by 6.00 pm. It was already pretty dark outside, considering winter in Britain was just - brilliant. He managed to go shopping for different ingredients and had really taken Q’s advice to heart. What was his advice? To make you a home cooked meal. Bond’s idea was to spoil you with a home cooked meal and somehow manage to use his wits to steer you into the direction of beginning to like him, which seemed ridiculous to him at first but there was something about you that he just couldn’t clear from his mind. In the space of a little over an hour, James managed to cook you your favourite dish (choose name) and set the table with a bottle of wine and light the candle in front of it. He sat two plates neatly with the cutlery and had almost finished cooking when he heard the door open.

You began to smile , surprised at the smile of your favourite dish coming from inside the dish as you noticed James was dressed impressively in casual clothing. He was in a navy blue t shirt with a pair of black jeans and trainers, after all he overheard you talking to a friend about how you were into guys who dressed in casual clothing quite a lot of the time, yet could suit up when they needed to.

“What’s this?” You asked, amazed by the sight.

“I figured you’ve been busy with work and deserve a home cooked meal to relieve some of that stress and we eat out a lot so tonight I’m just throwing something together.”

“That’s so sweet, I can’t believe you’d do this and I’m surprised you knew my favourite dish.”

“Of course I’d know. I do listen when you talk to me. You do know that right?”

You smiled as James poured you a glass of wine. “Loving the casual look as well, it suits you.” You winked.

Just before you could step any further towards you looked back for a moment smiling before collecting the glass.

“Ever heard the expression were you born in a barn?” James laughed, shaking his head.

“Yes of course I have and I find that very rude considering I can’t close the door on a guest.” James began sipping his drink when he saw Q walk through the door and instantly he spat it out, glaring at him.

“I guess she wasn’t born on a barn at all. Thank you for keeping the door slightly ajar for me Y/N, I do appreciate it. There was a quick phone call I had to make. Oh what a beautiful scene, I’m not intruding on anything am I?” He looked directly at James, smiling to find the man growling under his breath.

“The little shit…” James thought, giving a fake smile.

“I’m really sorry I should’ve known you were going to make dinner. If I had known-” You apologised looking at James.

“Don’t worry. Dinner for two can turn to three...right?”

“Excellent.” Q responded as you told him to make himself comfortable inside while you headed off with James into the kitchen.

“I really hope you don’t mind the fact I invited Q over.” You said, reaching for another glass. James grabbed another plate and looked at you smiling, “Of course I don’t. Why would I be bothered?”

“Thank you, for all of this.” You placed your hand on his chest for a moment, smiling before you left to go and join Q inside the front room.

Dinner was not awkward at all...There wasn’t any tension...Q definitely wasn’t scared of what James was going to do with a knife and fork in his hand. You looked on at the two, it was a tense atmosphere and you were starting to enjoy yourself ever so slightly as you poured the two more wine, especially for James who you could have heard growling at Q if you were sat where he was.

“So, Bond, you never told me you were a cook.” Q said to break the ice, smiling as he gulped on his wine.

“I don’t cook often because I’m never in my flat, remember?” Bond said, trying his best not to make it sound so sharp and harsh. “Then again we all have tricks up our sleeves don’t we?”

“Unfortunately some of those tricks usually don’t go accordingly to plan do they?” Q chuckled.

You were seriously enjoying this. You watched the two trade sly remarks to one another and didn’t even need to speak to keep the conversation going. That was until things started to get slightly out of hand and you could tell Q was beginning to get a little frightened in James’ presence.

“Alright children, that’s enough. You argue like my colleagues at work and I need a break from that.” You tutted, “James, you know this reminds me of that time we went to the pizza parlour and you made the restaurant manager feel uncomfortable because asked if the food was okay.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” James smiled at Q’s direction. You could sense Bond was all for making Q jealous of your friendship, except it had the opposite effect. You knew Q best, he was a lot smarter than that.

“Y/N, you remember back in Oxford, how we were a part of the unstoppable trio. You me and Jonathan in the chemistry lab working on quite the discovery.”

“Oh yes, in fact I do remember. We were all pretty spontaneous back then.” You cautiously said, looking over at James as the man raised his eyebrows at the word ‘spontaneous.’

“Spontaneous you were indeed.” Q winked, “Once Jonathan, who seemed to be the third wheel at the time, had left us I remembered when we both thought it would be a good idea to make sparks fly inside that lab...and not only from the -”

“Out of all people to talk about to, you decide to talk to my flatmate? Can we not, while we’re having dinner?” You interrupted quickly before he could go into detail, getting all flustered, that was when your phone began to ring. “Oh, I’ve got to pick up this call, must be work. I’ll be right back.” You walked off to take the phone as James turned to Q.

“You came up with this whole idea just so you could ruin it!” Bond hissed.

“What makes you think that?”

“Don’t try that crap with me Q. You better tell me the rest of this story.” He said, glaring at Q,who began to smile.

“Like I said, Y/N is very spontaneous, she could be adventurous if she wanted to. I thought she was quite the casual woman at first, her idea of a romantic night was simply just to have a night of binge watching television, playing video games and having snacks but she’s more open to anything really. It takes a lot to keep up with someone like her, good thing I was always able to in those encounters. In that chemistry lab was the first of many times. Not only in there though, that would be very wrong. The way she took those bottles and…” Q started into his glass, smirking and took a quick gulp before he looked back up at James, “Actually maybe that is a story for another day.” He smiled, noticing how interested James was.

“You a little shit.”

“Now, that is a rude thing to say to your guest. Why would you call me that? Were you thinking of having a romantic evening in with my wife?”

“Your wife. Wife. It is a funny word isn’t it? Usually ot associates those who I don’t know - live together, spend time together, not four years apart and later for the husband to discover she is sharing a flat with another man.”

“Hey, I never said our marriage was perfect.”

“You hadn’t seen her for four years! That’s hardly a marriage at all if you ask me. She’s practically single.”

“I trust you enough not to try anything on with dear Y/N.”

“What if I don’t have to try anything? What if she’s already onto me?” James winked.

“Now that would be absurd considering you don’t do married women, remember? And besides, Y/N is a lot smarter than you think she is. She wouldn’t come onto someone she isn’t attracted to even if it was a matter of life and death.” He chuckled.

As the tension started to build you joined the two once again, noticing James holding his fork upwards with the bottle of wine completely finished. “Why hello Y/N. We were just discussing how Bond’s girlfriend Madeleine will be visiting soon from Austria. On Monday.”

James’ eyes bulged immediately, his breathing began to run sharp, he was infuriated.

“I knew it! I knew they were dating! But girlfriend, sounds very serious. If she ever visits - actually go to a hotel room I think that would preferable. Congratulations.”

Q could sense James’ blood boiling as he clutched the glass of wine in his hand.

“Well, lovely dinner James. It was absolutely delicious, I should start visiting more often.” Q said, quickly wiping his mouth with the handkerchief.

“Please don’t.” He said sternly, low enough so both of you couldn’t hear him.

“Y/N, it’s been a pleasure spending all day with you, hopefully we can do it again sometime.”

“Yeah, alright, if you say so.” He leaned in and gave a quick kiss to your cheek then winked at James and left quickly before James could attempt to throw the fork at him.

“He did not need to do that.” You muttered under your breath rolling your eyes before you turned to James, “What was that all about? He left real quick.” You said curiously.

“I don’t know. M called him for something.”

“At this time of the night?”

James nodded as he cleared the plates.

“You said something to him didn’t you?”

“He just came up with some terrible ideas that’s all.” Bond chuckled as you rolled your eyes.

[steen-to-live-life]

So we have our flatmate and shes a lovely person.. asking how our day is etc, and we could totally have someone that is way worse. Generally she respects our house and loves dogga!!

Well, theres things that bug me about her and we could ask her to move out but we know itll only be another say 15-18 months and then hopefully we will have a baby and she can move out. And until then we save a bit of money.

But a rant ahead:

She uses so much power. We were away in the weekend and just her alone used almost twice as much as when it was just J&I home. Our power bill in a new, dry, warm house is $240, I expected it to be $200 max!! That's with us turning the heat pump on once this month!!

She uses the kitchen for very long periods and always seems to cook when we are. She made macarons the other week and theres green icing on the ceiling. Its not a big kitchen for us all. Shess just been in there for 2 hours and I want breakfast haha.

When she moved in she asked if she could have her partner stay, little did we realise that this meant 2 weeks!!! Hes staying for 2 weeks in the middle of november (over J and I 10yr anniversary too.. how can we have loud sex with 2 guests in the house). I'm going to ask her to pay extra money for him.

When we have guests around she wants to socialise. Like we had friends around from 6-10 one night and she stayed with us the whole time! When my family comes for dinner she stays in the lounge and hangs. Like okay, an hour would be okay, but not the whole time.

We were trying to eliminate our waste. We could use 1 rubbish bag for 3 weeks, could even get to 4 weeks but with doggas poo it got stinky. Well, she doesnt recycling anything and in a week she would fill the bag over half way with just rubbish from her bedroom.. tissues, paper, boxes, food rubbish etc.

I need to talk to her about it all again but I feel like it's such silly stuff but I know if I dont tall to her it builds up and frustrates us.

[heyyyharry]

Reunion

(from the Flatmate Series)

...in which Y/N gets back in touch with an ex, but Harry thinks it’s a terrible idea.

Wattpad link

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It had been a rough day for Harry.

He had to spend an entire afternoon in the library revising for this course he hated, then spent another two hours at the gym before taking a long bus ride home, because his car had broken down. When he got off the bus, he just couldn't wait to see his flatmate and complain about his day. However, the first person he saw in his flat wasn't Y/N, but a stranger sitting on his sofa, drinking from his favorite cup!

"Harry, you're home!" Y/N walked out from the kitchen with a big smile on her face. Without further ado, this guy stood up and rushed towards Harry, who still hadn't recovered from shock. He shook Harry's hand as if the two of them had known each other forever. Needless to say, Harry already hated him.

"You must be Y/N's flatmate. Nice to meet you!"

Instead of returning the smile, Harry turned to Y/N, who could obviously see the awkwardness between the two. Quickly, she stepped forward. "Will, this is Harry. Harry, this is Will, an old friend of mine."

"Ex-boyfriend, actually."

"Ex-boyfriend?!" Harry blinked fast, his eyes bulging with surprise. He waited for Y/N to laugh it off and tell him it was only a joke, and this guy right here was only her cousin or something. But sadly, she nodded her head to confirm it was true.

Will was her ex-boyfriend.

She had never talked about her past relationships, so he had always thought she'd never been in one, and possibly still a virgin. But now that he knew she had an ex-boyfriend, who, unfortunately, looked...not so bad, and was here in person, he saw himself falling to the pit of emotional distress.

"We dated for almost two years in high school." The smug on Will's face at this moment irritated Harry to the core. Nobody asked you, you prick, mocked the voice inside Harry's head as he nodded, not so sure if it was a response to Will or to himself.

"We ran into each other when I stopped by the coffee shop. What a lovely coincidence!"

As soon as Harry heard that, he wanted nothing more than to punch himself in the face. It was all his fault! Had he not asked her to buy him coffee on her way back from campus, she wouldn't have run into her ex. And Will wouldn't have ended up here, in their flat, drinking from his cup, spending time with his flatmate. Who knew what else could've happened if he hadn't got back early? The thought made his blood boil.

"So when are you leaving?"

"Harry!"

"What?" He gave her a shrug. "Will can come over another time." Preferably never again. "It's late and we have dinner to make."

"Would you like to stay for dinner Will?"

"Yes!" — "No!" Will and Harry said in parallel, then instantly faced each other to exchange hostile stares. Out of the corner of Harry's eyes, he could see Y/N with her arms crossed, obviously not very pleased by his behavior towards her guest. He didn't give a damn though. All that he cared about was how to get rid of Will as fast as possible.

He knew he was selfish. He wanted to be the only one she cooked dinner with, the only one she told boring stories about her day to. But there was more than just him not wanting to 'share' her. It was also the way Will was looking at Y/N. It was the same way Harry would look at a potential fuck. So he didn't care what history Y/N had with this guy, his job was to protect her at all cost.

"It's okay, Y/N. I suppose it may be inconvenient for you two if I stay for dinner."

"Thank you," Harry muttered under his breath but the other two could hear him well.

"So you're going now?" Y/N looked slightly disappointed, which Harry noticed, and he intended to make a remark. Unfortunately, Will was quicker.

"How about I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?"

"What?" Harry switched his eyes from Will to Y/N, who didn't even think twice to say yes. He didn't know if she was only doing this to get back at him for leaving her alone almost every night, but he'd be fine with any other punishments. By doing this, she might as well just burn him alive.

"That was a terrible idea, Y/N," Harry grumbled once their uninvited guest had left. Normally, she would be the one to say this to him, not the other way around. This is bad, he thought to himself. Very bad. Y/N couldn't see what he saw, or she ignored all the warning signs because Will was charming. Harry hoped it wasn't the latter.

"We're just two high school friends having dinner. Why is it a bad idea?" She walked right past him to the kitchen, and he followed, not about to give up.

"Not friends! Exes! Going out with your ex is never a good idea!" He tried to stay calm, but he sucked at that, and she was really testing his patience. She ignored the worried look he was giving her and opened the fridge to pour herself a glass of milk. The sudden silence was strangely suspicious. And so he assumed she must be hiding something.

"How did you two break up?"

"Excuse me?"

"How did you two break up?" Harry repeated the question while staring her down. "You never told me about him. You dated him for almost two fucking years. If you two had stayed friends, you would've mentioned it, like you told me about John and Violet."

Y/N put the glass down, eyes widened at her flatmate. John and Violet were her two best friends back home. She video-called them every week, but never when Harry was around.

"I told you about them like once, how do you remember?"

"I...just have a good memory," he stuttered as his face reddened right away.

"A goldfish has a better memory than you," Y/N joked.

The color in his cheeks was even more prominent now. He turned a deaf ear to that remark and went on. "The point is, I know you, you told me about your high school friends, excluding the guy you dated for almost two years. What exactly happened between you and Will, Y/N?"

"Why are you interrogating me? I've never said a word about any girl you've fucked."

"None of those girls was my ex! If it was another guy, I won't say a word."

That was a massive lie. It didn't matter which guy Y/N agreed to go out with. If it wasn't Harry, then there was always a problem to Harry.

"I mean it, Y/N. Call him back and say no!"

"Don't tell me what to do, you're not my parent."

"Are you serious?! I'm just giving you advice and—"

Y/N didn't wait for him to finish and just turned her heels to leave the conversation. The answer Harry received was nothing but a heavy door slam.

The next morning, she left the flat before he woke up. He found a note on the fridge saying she had an important presentation so she had to go early. He knew it was a lie. She just didn't want to confront him. But no matter how hard Harry tried to think, he couldn't figure out why she was so mad. He had done absolutely nothing wrong. When he didn't care about her, she got angry. Now he cared too much about her, she got angry as well. Maybe he should just let her do whatever she wanted, it wasn't his responsibility to look after her anyway.

Thus Harry decided to stop thinking about this and carry on with his morning. He repeated the same daily routine, keeping her off his mind and his phone out of reach. But when he returned to their flat at around 6 PM, there was no sign that she had come back yet. While his mind was racing a mile a minute, he gave in and called her number, hoping she would pick up and tell him where she was. To his disappointment, the call went strange to voicemail.

Cursing aloud, he collapsed onto the sofa and buried his face into his hands. Why was he so anxious though? Y/N was only going on a date. No, not a date, just a friendly dinner, with her good-looking ex-boyfriend, whom she'd dated for almost two years and possibly still had feelings for...Well, that clearly didn't help. Fuck. If only he could tell his own thoughts to shut up too.

Impatient, he sent her a text.

⌲ Where are you?

With one hand covering his mouth, he stared intensely at the word sent until it turned to read, and finally, Y/N is typing...

⌲ Y/N: Relax, I'm with Will.

How am I supposed to relax if you're with Will? Said the voice inside his head as he muttered another curse word, waiting for her to write something else.

⌲ Y/N: Just have dinner without me ok?

Harry felt a lump in his throat when he read her response. He guessed she must've felt the same way every time she received a text like this from him. His heart was jumpy when he wrote: When will you be back? You're not mad at me, right? I'm sorry. But after a second thought, he deleted everything to replace it with three simple words, which he regretted right after sending.

⌲ OK, have fun.

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"Was that Harry?"

Y/N shook her head no and tucked her phone into her bag. She believed Will could see that her mind was somewhere else, but instead of pointing it out, he remained silent. As they kept on walking, his eyes shifted back to her every chance he got, whilst hers were anywhere but him. Now she began to think this might not be a good idea.

"I think he has a crush on you," Will spoke, causing Y/N to blink fast. She was surprised at first but then her expression altered into amusement.

"Trust me, he does not." She slightly chuckled, raising both eyebrows. "He doesn't like anyone. As a matter of fact, people annoy him."

"He must be a loner than." Will chuckled. To his surprise, Y/N shook her head.

"Not at all. He goes out a lot and knows many people. Girls are crazy about him, but he's not the type to only stick to one, you know? That's why him having a crush on me is as real as Santa Claus." Y/N faked a laugh, but she wasn't happy to even think about this, let alone say it aloud. She'd been thinking about Harry in a way that she shouldn't. Two nights ago, she had even come up with this scenario, in which Harry had sat her down and told her he would change for her. He had even said he didn't want any other girl. But it was all in her imagination. Now it was time she did a reality check and accepted that he wasn't easy to change. It would take more than his boring flatmate to do that job.

"So now we're going back?" Will's question pulled her out of her own thoughts. She turned to look at him, almost saying yes but she held back the word just in time. If she felt sorry for leaving Harry alone, then who would feel sorry for her every time she came back and he wasn't there? He probably didn't even care where she was now. Maybe he had gone out to another party. Maybe he might even spend the night with another girl. She had no reason to come back and be alone again.

"Why don't we go somewhere else?"

Will was bowled over by Y/N's suggestion, but of course, he was more than happy to oblige.

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Harry checked his phone for the hundredth time, still nothing from Y/N though it was past midnight already. He would go find her but he didn't know where she was and her phone was also switched off. All he could do right now was wait for her to return. But the longer the waited, the more he believed she wouldn't.

Sighing, he picked up the call from Niall, trying to make out his best friend's voice from the loud music in the background."Harry, mate, where are you?!" Niall literally had to scream each word for Harry to hear him.

"Sorry, Niall. I'm afraid I can't come with you tonight."

"Why?"

"Y/N's still not home yet. She went out with this guy and-"

"They're probably fucking at his place. She's fine."

"How is that 'fine' to you, Niall?!" Harry raised his voice, and Niall fell to silence for a few seconds, making Harry think he wasn't listening anymore.

But then he spoke, "I don't want to say this but...I think you're in love with Y/N."

Those words hit Harry like a train going at full speed. It took his brain a moment to process, and he released a laugh that gave himself away. "What?" He was in denial and he knew it. "No, I'm not... I'm not in love with her. You're drunk."

Niall responded with a heavy sigh. He might be drunk, but he was more sensible than his best friend was."Are you waiting for her outside your flat like an overprotective dad when his daughter's out on her first date?"

"No..." Harry mumbled while staring at the empty hallway, wondering how Niall could've guessed that.

"Hang in there, buddy," Niall said despite his answer. "I would come over, but I need to keep an eye on drunk Terry, in case he wants to run around the neighborhood naked. Try not to be too upset, yeah?"

"I'll be fine," Harry breathed. That reply was meant for himself.

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There were two things Y/N had sworn to herself that she would never do: sleep with an ex and have a one-night stand. So the moment she opened her eyes and found out the person lying next to her was Will, and he was just as naked as she was under the duvet, she knew she had fucked up.

"So..." Will broke the silence while Y/N was putting on her clothes. "Last night was great."

"No...it was a mistake." She denied. "It never should've happened."

"What's wrong? Was I bad?"

Yes.

"It has nothing to do with that. It's just..." Y/N put on the last item, her right earring, then rose from the bed to face him at last. She knew he wouldn't want to hear this, but she felt awful for not telling him the truth. "I did it because I wanted to make someone jealous, but it turned out to be a terrible idea. I'm so sorry."

"So you used me?"

"Technically...yes." She narrowed her eyes. "But it's only fair for what you did to me."

"Oh, come on. It was a long time ago!"

"You cheated, Will, just a few days before Prom. Who does that?!" Y/N scoffed, but Will seemed unbothered by that accusation. He knew exactly what he'd done, and apparently, he didn't feel bad about it.

"If you haven't forgiven me why did you still agree to go out with me?" He asked in confusion.

Y/N rolled her eyes upward as she crossed her arms. "Because it doesn't matter anymore. You, don't matter to me anymore...I'm in love with someone else, which is why I'm here, making a fool out of myself just for his attention."

"Well, I'm glad you said it." The boy blew air through his mouth as his lips curved into a lopsided grin. "To be honest, to me it's been about sex this whole time, makes me feel better knowing you also feel the same."

Y/N could only shake her head. Although he had a point, she still felt somewhat disappointed, mostly in her younger self for wasting almost two years of her life on a guy like him. Without saying her goodbye, which he didn't deserve, Y/N picked up her bag and left the hotel room, hoping she would never see him again.

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"You're still mad at me. I can tell..."

Harry kept on ignoring her existence, even when she was doing literally everything to gain his attention. She stepped on his foot, tugged at his sleep, and even stroked his hair while she knew how much he hated when people did that. He was only trying to study, but she wouldn't leave him alone.

"Quit it. You're being annoying." He tried to push her away, yet she was persistent. Now she was pulling his arm, not letting him touch his laptop to finish the half-written essay.

"I won't quit it until you stop being mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," he said with a straight face, making her snort.

"Then can you look me in the eyes?"

A long pause followed that question for him to fill in. Eventually, Harry closed his laptop and gave her the attention she had craved for. Y/N swore the moment he lost it was the funniest she had ever seen.

"What were you thinking, Y/N? You fucking slept with your ex-boyfriend! Your ex-boyfriend! I warned you about it! But did you listen? You did not! You even got mad at me for worrying about you! Did you know that I nearly stayed up all night to wait for you to come home? I have an exam coming up, but I couldn't do shit last night because I was busy worrying about you, while you were out having fun, with your phone turned off! And when you did come home, at eight in the morning, you told me you slept with your fucking ex! So yeah, I am mad at you, and I do not want to speak to you right now!"

"You stayed up and waited for me?" Her nonchalant smile caught him off guard. He immediately forgot he was supposed to be mad and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Yes," he told her before shifting his eyes to the floor. That change in his attitude made her smile like the Cheshire Cat.

"Harry, you won't ever see Will again, I promise," she giggled. "It clearly was a mistake. I don't even remember having sex last night, it was so bad. It ended really fast, and I fell asleep right after."

Harry seemed more at ease now that he had heard this, regardless of the fact that the thought of someone else's hands on her naked body still irritated him.

"Alright..." He let out a heavy sigh. "Next time you spend the night out, let me know so I won't wait up."

"There won't be a next time...if you promise me you won't do it either." Her voice was slow and clear and her eyes locked with his. But just like her guess, Harry couldn't make that promise. He stuttered for a moment and only stared at her in silence, which was his way of saying no.

"I was just messing with you." She nudged him and faked a smile to hide her disappointment. "Are you mad at me still?"

"I wish I could stay mad." He rolled his eyes, making her giggle. That might be the loveliest sound he had ever heard.

"Good! Because I just found this great dinner recipe online and I'm gonna need an assistant!"

Shaking his head, Harry exhaled a soft laugh as he watched Y/N dance her way into the kitchen. She was humming that same song for the entire week. It had become his favorite even though he'd never officially heard it before.

Fuck, cursed the voice inside his head.

He was in love with her.

[inyournightmares97]

Your Fault (Suho)

Suho wonders if he should really be letting himself fall for his roommate's best friend, but you just can't help who you fall for, sometimes. Suho/OC. AU. Appearances from other EXO members.

Masterlist  Mobile

Suho entered the apartment after a long day. He’d secretly been hoping that none of his flatmates were around- it was often noisy when they were all at home, especially with Baekhyun and Chanyeol yelling all the time.

But the sight he came home to was Sehun sitting on the couch with a game controller in his hand. The maknae was frowning at the screen intensely, his hands tilting the controller in concentration. Sitting next to him was Jieun. She had her legs crossed and a bowl of chips in her lap- munching on them as she watched Sehun play, looking slightly bored.

“Hey,” Suho greeted them, as he took off his shoes.

“Hello, hyung,” Sehun greeted distractedly. Jieun, however, turned her entire body to face Suho and gave him a bright smile and a small wave of her hand cheerfully.

“Suho-oppa! Back from work? You look tired,” she said to him, sympathetically.

They had a no-girls rule in the shared apartment. The walls were thin, and overnight guests were inevitably overheard. It usually wasn’t a problem. Kai was the only one with a girlfriend, but he never brought her over because she had a much nicer apartment. Suho often wondered why Kai didn’t just move in with her, but it was none of his business.

Jieun was the only exception to the no-girls rule. She and Sehun weren’t dating- they both maintained that they were just friends. They’d known each other for a long time and currently even attended the same university. Sehun was a dance major and Jieun had wanted to be one too- but her parents were so controlling that they wouldn’t let her, and she’d had to take up Economics instead.

“I’m okay,” Suho reassured her. Jieun always had a big smile on her face for him and it made him feel a little embarrassed; she was three years younger than him, and probably thought he was old. But considering that Jieun practically spent all her time at his apartment, Suho was wondering how much longer he could hide his feelings for his roommate’s best friend. “Isn’t anybody else home?” he asked awkwardly.

“Baekhyun-hyung went shopping with Chanyeol-hyung,” Sehun muttered. His eyes were still on the television screen. “He has a date tomorrow. He asked out one of the senior girls from the Economics department.”

Jieun smiled and raised her hand happily. “I played wing-man!” she announced proudly.

Suho smiled. Jieun was cute without realizing it; it wasn’t like she intentionally did aegyo, but there was something innocent about her child-like behavior. He sometimes felt his heartbeat thump when she shot him a cute dimpled smile. But Jieun wasn’t stupid- far from it, her innocent looks actually hid a much more cunning nature.

Jieun’s phone rang and she jumped, shushing both Suho and Sehun and instantly moving to mute his game. Sehun glared at her but didn’t say anything as Jieun answered the phone.

“Hello? Dad?” she whispered into the phone. Suho watched her, amused.

“Yes, Dad, I’m in the library. I have an exam tomorrow. I’ll be home a little late, I’m not done studying. Yes, I had dinner. Dad, the librarian’s glaring at me, I’m going to hang up now- bye!” she cut the call, before sliding the phone into her pocket and coolly unmuting Sehun’s game.

“Sorry,” she apologized lightly.

“What do you do if he goes to the library to check on you?” Suho wondered as he pulled at his tie uncomfortably.

Jieun shrugged. “He’s never done that yet. But I have an arrangement with the librarian; there’s a corner seat in the library where she lets me leave one of my bags with a couple of books. So it looks like I just stepped out for a few minutes and I can always run over and pretend to have been there all along.” Jieun gestured lightly out of the window. “It’s around the corner from your apartment anyway.”

Suho blinked. “You have a lot of guts.”

“No, I just have really controlling parents,” Jieun replied. She suddenly smiled at Sehun. “Remember that time my Dad thought I was dating that friend of yours- Taemin? And he told me I was forbidden from having a boyfriend until I’d graduated college and had my own job?”

Sehun cracked a smile. “Taemin doesn’t even swing that way. You got scolded for nothing.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Jieun muttered, flopping back into the sofa and picking up the bowl of chips again. “You guys are out of food, by the way. This is the last packet of chips.”

“Who’s fault is that? Go buy some more!” Sehun scolded. “Seriously, woman. You know how to cook, and you live with your parents. The least you could do is bring some food around or cook for us now and then, but no, you steal food from poor, struggling bachelors.”

Jieun made a face at him. “Why do I have to cook? Because I’m a girl?”

“No, because it’s basic decency.”

“Then consider me indecent,” she replied cheekily.

Suho cleared awkwardly. “I’ll buy the chips,” he offered lightly. “I was going to go get some beer anyway. Do you guys want anything else?”

“I’ll come with you to the store,” Jieun perked up.

“Okay. Give me a second, I’ll go get changed.”

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Suho walked silently alongside Jieun as she hummed to herself lightly. Her long hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and strands of dark hair framed her face. Suho had no idea what song she was humming, but it sounded like an old classical song.

“Why do you still live here?” Jieun asked suddenly.

Suho blinked. The sidewalk was crowded with people going home from work and he grasped Jieun’s arm to prevent her from banging into a man rushing past. He turned and looked at her sideways. “Uh-what?”

“Why do you still live with Sehun and the others?” Jieun asked again. Her eyes blinked up at him innocently. She didn’t seem to mind Suho’s hand on her arm, but he dropped it awkwardly. “I mean- I understand why you used to before- you were still in college. But now you have a decent job and you can probably afford your own place. Why don’t you move out?”

Suho shrugged. He had contemplated it before- but he knew that he could never really bring himself to be the first to leave. The others were a mess- they wouldn’t be able to manage without him. “I don’t know. I’m too used to this place, I guess.”

Jieun raised an eyebrow. “To that dingy old apartment?”

Suho nodded. “Why not?”

“Because it’s awful. It’s a place where broke college students live. Even Sehun whines about it, and he’s one of the messiest people I’ve ever seen.” Jieun looked up at Suho and tilted her head. “So why do you stay? I heard Kai-oppa saying he might move in with his girlfriend soon.”

“Well, that’s lucky for him, but I don’t have a girlfriend to move in with.”

Jieun smiled. “It’s because you know that if you leave, the others can’t make the rent without you, right?”

Suho blinked. “What?”

“I saw your rent check lying on the table the other day. You pay most of it. I know Sehun is always broke, I pay for his meals half the time. Baekhyun-oppa buys way too many video games with his part-time job salary to have much left towards rent-paying. And neither Kai-oppa nor Chanyeol-oppa have regular jobs.”

Suho stared at her, dumbstruck. “I mean… it’s not like a burden or anything…”

Jieun smiled. “You don’t have to look so embarrassed about doing a good thing. You’re a really thoughtful person, oppa. Girls like that sort of thing.” She titled her head and frowned. “But don’t be too subtle about it. Sometimes people don’t realize how much someone is doing for them. Your good deeds shouldn’t go unrecognized.”

Suho blinked, his cheeks flushing red. “I don’t mind.”

She giggled. “You’re like one of those parents from a drama who works three jobs for their kids, but they don’t want their kids to know because they’ll worry,” Jieun joked lightly. She smiled as they entered the convenience store together and her eyes lit up happily. “Oh- wow, they have those hazelnut chocolates on sale again! Oppa, will you buy me these?”

He laughed and nodded, wishing he wasn’t falling so hard for this girl.

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“Hyung, Jieun’s going to come by later and ask you for a favor,” Sehun said coolly, as he walked past Suho to open the fridge and pull out a large carton of juice. He shook it, only to realize it was empty and made a face. “Don’t agree to do it.”

Suho blinked, his toast half hanging out of . “Favor?” he asked, blankly.

Sehun nodded. “Yeah. I have to go, I have an early class. I won’t be back until late tonight.” He tossed the empty juice carton into the trashcan and then grabbed his backpack. He left the apartment before Suho could call after him, the sound of the front door banging.

Suho finished breakfast, and left his plate in the sink. He wondered briefly if he should go and wake Baekhyun or Chanyeol up before he left for work. The two of them had a tendency to sleep in and then whine about how he left without waking them up. He sometimes wished he wasn’t the only responsible one in the apartment- then again, these guys worked hard too. It wasn’t fair to them. He grabbed for his tie lying on the dining table and swung it around his neck, when he heard the front door open again.

“Suho-oppa? Oppa, are you here?” Jieun called out hesitantly.

Suho froze, his hands on the tie. “Oh- Jieun-ah. What are you doing here so early?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Jieun admitted, entering the living room slowly. She looked a little hesitant, and her hands were rubbing each other nervously. “I kind of need a favor. I mean- you can say no, I know this is kind of a weird thing to ask of someone and it’s not exactly right, but-“

As if I could deny you anything. “What is it?” Suho cut her off.

“Will you pretend to be my Dad?”

Suho nearly choked. “What?”

“One of Sehun’s dance professors- the one whose class I really wanted to take, but I couldn’t because my Dad made me register for an Economics course that clashed with it- he teaches at this private institution in the evenings. So I managed to get some contacts and he’s agreed to let me join the course, but he says that since I’m a female student, and it’s an evening course, I need to get a parent to call him up and give permission for safety reasons.”

Suho blinked at her. “Oh. Your Dad won’t give his permission?”

Jieun bit her lip and looked down at the floor. She seemed miserable, and Suho was filled with the sudden urge to wrap her in his arms and do something to make her smile. “There’s no point even asking my Dad,” she muttered. “He would say no. He thinks I won’t have time to focus on my studies if I joined dance classes.”

There was a long silence. Suho wanted to say yes, he really did. But impersonating her parent over the phone was a risky thing to do.

“Please, oppa?” Jieun asked, pouting. “It’s not like it’s illegal or anything, I’m above eighteen. I shouldn’t need parental consent to join a dance course. This professor’s just being annoying. You only need to talk to him over the phone, once, that’s it. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Suho took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“Please?” Jieun bit her lip. “I don’t know who else to ask, oppa. You’re the only person I trust enough to help me with this. Besides… if this doesn’t work out, I’m honestly thinking of giving up dance for good.”

Suho felt his heart break a little. “I’ll do it,” he promised.

Jieun’s eyes widened. “Really?” she beamed brightly, before stepping forward and closing the distance between them. Suho froze in shock as she wrapped her arms around his waist, giving him a hug. She was too close; her cheek was pressed against his chest and he could faintly smell her lavender shampoo. Jieun smiled a little awkwardly as she released him and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Oh- sorry. You’re all dressed for work and I just crumpled your shirt,” she apologized sheepishly. She pressed her hands against the front of his chest to smooth the shirt out and Suho felt his breath catch in . Did she not realize what she was doing? How could she so coolly rub her hands all over his torso? He stared at her in shock as she leaned forward and smiled. “Oppa, I like the smell of your cologne. What brand is it?”

Suho couldn’t think straight. “I… I’m not sure.”

Jieun laughed. “Yeah? You should lend some to Sehun. He goes around smelling like old sweaty clothes half the time.”

“Oh.”

Jieun stepped back and finally looked up at him, dropping her hands from his chest. “Sorry. I’m probably making you late for work, right? I’ll let you go now. I’m going to the library anyway, I have to catch up on some coursework.”

Suho nodded, clearing his throat. He took a few seconds to compose himself.  “Oh. Do you want a ride to the library?”

Jieun blinked. “It’s just around the block from your apartment.”

“I’ll pass by it on the way to work anyway. It’ll be faster,” he reassured her. He grabbed his bag and hurriedly smoothed his hair down, before starting to walk towards the front door. Jieun laughed loudly, and grabbed his hand, pulling him back a little.

“Oppa! Are you really going to leave like that?”

Suho blinked, her warm hand around his wrist feeling like it was burning through his skin. “Eh?”

“Your tie,” Jieun pointed out. She stepped forward and tugged slightly on the loose tie that he had merely slung around his neck, forgetting to actually tie it properly. He was surprised when she picked up the loose ends of the tie and began to tie it swiftly. “How can you be so responsible and mature, yet so clumsy at the same time?” Jieun asked with a smile.

Suho blinked. “Ah- what are you doing?”

“I always watch my Mom doing this for my Dad. I thought it looked really romantic,” Jieun mused, focusing on the tie in front of her. Suho stood stiffly and stared down at her in silence. She was humming to herself as she did his tie, and then she suddenly froze. “That… doesn’t look right, does it?”

Suho glanced down and couldn’t help himself- he burst out laughing. Jieun had made some sort of clumsy-looking knot that didn’t even remotely resemble a tie. Her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, and she lifted her hands to cover her face.

“Oppa, don’t laugh! I’m so sorry! It looked a lot easier when I watched my Mom do it!” she insisted. Suho was extremely attractive when he laughed and she could feel her face heating up. He smiled at her kindly and then shook her head.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he said lightly, reaching up to fix the knot himself. He looked at her flustered face and chuckled. “You’re cute.”

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“You called up Jieun’s dance teacher?” Sehun demanded, as soon as he entered the apartment later that evening. Suho was watching television, and he blinked in surprise at the younger boy’s sudden entrance. "Hyung, I told you not to do it.”

Suho blinked. “Why not?” he asked.

Sehun dropped his backpack on the sofa and sighed, sitting down next to him. He looked tired, and ran a hand over his face. “Damn it, this girl is always giving me a headache. Those dance classes go on till about 12:30 am. And the studio is in one of those alleyways behind the all-night pubs. It’s a shady place and Jieun wants to go there alone every night.”

Suho sat up, startled. “You didn’t tell me that!”

Sehun raised an eyebrow. “Hyung, I told you not to give in to what she said.”

“But you didn’t tell me it was dangerous! I wouldn’t have done it! I already called up the dance professor and pretended to be her father, he even believed me!” Suho insisted. He was well-spoken and sounded very mature over the phone, no wonder the dance professor hadn’t doubted anything. He sighed and frowned. “Is she seriously going to come back home alone from that shady place at that time of night?”

Sehun blinked. “Well, there’s no stopping her now that you’ve given the permission-“

“I’ll call the teacher back and tell him Jieun’s not allowed to attend the classes anymore-“

“She’ll hate you.”

Suho hesitated, his fingers freezing on his mobile phone. He couldn’t do it. Jieun had looked so excited about those dance classes, she’d even squealed when Suho had called to tell her that his impersonation of her father had worked. Suho sighed and rubbed his temples. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t possibly let her attend those classes. It would be completely irresponsible of him, she could get seriously hurt in that area.

“There’s no other way,” Suho muttered.

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Jieun’s smile dropped from her face instantly.

“What do you mean, I’m not allowed to go?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Oppa, you told me yesterday that the professor believed you, and he gave me permission to start attending the evening dance classes!”

Suho clenched his fists. He couldn’t look at her big, horrified eyes. He was too afraid that he would give in to her. He’d always been too soft, and he turned to mush in front of Jieun in particular. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was the adult in this situation; that he had to be responsible and use his head.

“You lied to me, Jieun-ah,” he told her quietly. “You didn’t tell me that the class went on until late at night, and you certainly didn’t tell me that the studio was behind that line of shady pubs.”

Jieun clenched her fists. “So what if it is?” she demanded.

“Are you insane? Don’t you know how to look after your own safety?” Suho demanded, exasperated. “You’re not a child, you know what sort of crimes happen in places like that! No wonder the professor wanted your parents to give you permission!”

Jieun bit her lip and folded her arms across her chest. Her hands were trembling. “Y-you know how much dance means to me. I thought you were among the few people who understood.”  

“I understand,” Suho said firmly. “But this isn’t safe. I can’t let you do this, Jieun-ah. You could get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself!”

“Are you stupid? How are you going to do that? Have some sense, your safety has to come before anything else!” he replied sharply. “I’m sorry, Jieun-ah. But you’re not going to those dance classes on my watch.”

“You know who you sound like?” Jieun spat. “My father.”

Suho bit his lip, trying not to feel guilty. “I’m not telling you not to dance. Join a dance class elsewhere. At a better place, at a more reasonable time. I’ll help you find one, okay?”

Jieun glared at him. “If I wanted to join another class, I would have! This Professor came from Juliard, he’s one of the best. He even told me that I had the potential to take up dance professionally if I put in the effort and that’s not going to happen by attending the local dance classes they take for kids! Do you even know what it’s like to have a dream?”

Suho clenched his fists. “You think I don’t know-“

“No, you don’t! You went to college and got a bloody boring degree in Accounts and then went on to do a white-collar job that makes you miserable in life! Do you want me to end up like you?” Jieun demanded. “Do you want me to be that pathetic?”

There was a long, painful silence.

Suho closed his eyes. “You think I’m pathetic?”

She froze and her eyes widened. “Oppa, that’s not-“

“Go, then,” he told her quietly. He stood up and pointed shakily to the door. “Do whatever you want. Don’t let pathetic me stop you.”

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Sehun was pacing up and down the rug in his bedroom. Jieun sat silently on the edge of his bed, while Sehun walked up and down and breathed heavily. He was a generally relaxed and casual person, barely caring about anything enough to give it his attention. But for once, he looked frustrated.

“You’re really stupid, you know that?” Sehun demanded, finally.

Jieun bit her lip hard, so that she wouldn’t burst out crying. “I know,” she whispered.

“Do you even know how much Suho-hyung’s been through in life? He wanted to become a professional singer. He gave up that dream because he knew that his family couldn’t afford to support him through it, and because it wasn’t a stable career. He worked his way through college so he could earn enough to support his parents. And you called him pathetic?”

Jieun closed her eyes. She felt like throwing up. “I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled. “I- I was angry and upset, I know it was selfish-“

Sehun stared at her. “Jieun-ah. You’re my best friend, but I have to tell you that what you said was seriously out of line. Suho-hyung didn’t deserve that. He’s only trying to help you.”

Her throat was closing up. Jieun could feel tears coming to her eyes. Her shoulders shook, and she brought her hands up to cover her face. She’d never felt so horrible about herself. Suho had been one of the few people she looked up to, whom she could trust and who treated her with respect. And she had lashed out at him like an unruly child.

“I know that,” she whispered.

Sehun raised an eyebrow. “Good. Then you should at least-“

There was a noise from the living room, which was unmistakably the front door opening. Jieun stiffened and her eyes widened. Somebody had clearly entered the apartment. There was the noise of shuffling in the living room.

Sehun noticed Jieun’s panicked expression and sighed. “It’s probably Kai. Suho-hyung doesn’t get off work so early-“

“Sehun-ah!” Suho’s voice came unmistakably from the living room. There was the sound of footsteps and suddenly the door to Sehun’s room opened abruptly and Suho stepped in. “How many times have I told you not to leave your laundry lying around on the-“

He fell silent as soon as he saw Jieun sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes red and looking like she’d been crying. The room was silent for a few moments, and Sehun finally decided to excuse himself from the awkward atmosphere.

“I’ll go pick up my laundry,” he muttered, walking out quietly.

Suho moved aside to let Sehun exit the room, before taking a deep breath. He glanced at Jieun and noticed that she was avoiding his gaze, looking at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her knuckles were white. She took a deep, shaky breath before speaking.

“Oppa, I’m so s-sorry,” she whispered. “I should never have talked to you that way or lashed out at you yesterday. I-I was upset and I know that’s no excuse, I feel horrible and-“

He cut her off. “It’s a good thing you’re here,” he said simply. “I was going to call you anyway. Do you have your dance things?”

Jieun blinked up at him, her eyes red. “W-what? No.”

“Okay. We’ll stop by your house, then. Give me a few minutes to get changed.”

“Changed for what?” she croaked, confused.

Suho sighed and pulled at his tight, uncomfortable tie as he tried to unravel it. “I’m driving you to dance class. I’ll wait nearby and once you’re done, give me a call and I’ll come pick you up. Don’t leave the studio for anything unless I’m around and if I call, you have to pick up immediately or else the deal is off.”

Jieun stared at him, her eyes wide.

“You don’t need to-“

“I gave up my dreams,” Suho said quietly. His eyes were shining as he looked at her. “You shouldn’t have to, not for such a small reason.”

Jieun stared at him, her heartbeat thudding. She could barely believe what he was saying. “You have work,” she pointed out.

“I’m taking on an earlier shift, so I’ll get off sooner in the evenings. It’s not really an issue.” Suho finally managed to yank the tie off his neck, and he turned around to leave the bedroom. Before he could take a step, he felt Jieun’s arms suddenly wrap around his torso tightly from behind. He froze as she clutched him, pressing her face into his back and letting her tears soak his white dress shirt. He could feel her shaking as she sobbed.

Suho stiffened and bit his lip. “Yah, don’t cry like that, seriously. You’re making a big deal out of nothing-“

“I was horrible to you,” Jieun whispered shakily. Her small arms tightened around his waist and she held back a sob. “I shouldn’t even matter to you. I’m just your roommate’s annoying friend that eats all your food. W-why are you such a good person?”

You don’t really want to know. Suho bit his lip. He placed a hand on her arm that was wrapped around him and gently removed it. He turned around to face her and gave her a small smile. “Look, don’t worry so much. Just let me go get changed, okay? You can go wait by the car, I’ll meet you there in two minutes.”

Jieun nodded and stepped back from him, reaching up to wipe her tears away. “Oppa,” she muttered.

Suho blinked at her. “Hmm?”

“You really shouldn’t be such a good person,” she said softly. “People will end up taking advantage of you.”

Or they’ll fall for you, she thought silently. Which could be a lot more dangerous.

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2 months later.

“Personally, I’m highly satisfied with this arrangement,” Baekhyun declared, as he stuffed more food into his mouth. He looked mildly disgusting talking with his mouth full, but he didn’t seem to care. “How did we not know that Jieun was such a good cook, before? She’s at our apartment 24/7, and she eats all my chips but she doesn’t have the decency to tell us she’s an amazing cook?”

Sehun leaned forward in his seat as he twirled his chopsticks in the bowl of noodles. “She’s always been a good cook, she’s just really lazy. That’s why she doesn’t tell people she can cook; she’s afraid they’ll ask her to.”

Chanyeol let out a loud of satisfaction. “Oh my God, this food…!”

Baekhyun sighed happily. “Why is she suddenly bringing us meals, then?”

“It’s a mixture of guilt and gratitude, topped off with her crush on Suhp-hyung,” Sehun replied, munching. “Jieun feels so bad about the fact that Suho-hyung drives her to and from those late-night dance classes every day, so she fusses over him and makes him home-cooked food. But if you’ve noticed carefully, it all began after Chanyeol’s birthday when Suho-hyung got a little drunk and started talking about how his ideal type was a woman who could make good food.”

Baekhyun snickered. “No kidding. How do you even deal with those two?”

Sehun made a face. “I try not to think about it.”

There was the sound of the front door opening, and they heard Suho and Jieun’s voices coming from the entrance to the apartment. They were talking cheerfully, having just returned from Jieun’s dance class. Both of them looked surprised to see Sehun, Baekhyun and Chanyeol sitting around the dining table and eating happily.

“Oh- you guys are still up?” Suho asked lightly. “What’s all this food? Jieun-ah- did you cook again?”

Jieun smiled and nodded shyly. “You mentioned that you were missing your Mom’s japchae, so I decided to try the recipe. I kept it in the fridge to heat up later, but I guess these guys found it already. There’s kimchi too- it’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

“It tastes really good!” Baekhyun said with a grin, giving her a thumbs up.

“Really? I’m glad you like it! Take some more!” Jieun placed a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder and leaned over him to put some more of the noodles into his bowl. He smiled happily, until she quietly placed her face beside his ear on the pretext of serving him and her grip on his shoulder tightened. “Eat the food I made for Suho-oppa again, and you’ll be feeding out of a tube for the rest of your life,” she hissed quietly.

Baekhyun’s smile dropped. “I think I’m kind of full,” he said nervously. “Let’s leave the rest for Suho-hyung, okay, guys?”

“Oppa, you sit,” Jieun insisted, pushing Suho towards a chair and making him sit down. “You must be tired. I’ll heat up the soup for you, it must still be in the fridge if you guys didn’t find it yet.”

Suho smiled at her. “Jieun-ah, you don’t have to keep doing all this-“

“It’s okay!” Jieun insisted, disappearing into the kitchen. Suho was left sitting at the dining table, his face flushed slightly red. Secretly, he loved it when Jieun made food and fussed over him. They’d grown a lot closer ever since he’d started taking her to dance classes every day and he could see the change in the way she spoke to him. Suho was often oblivious but even he could see that the way Jieun treated him was different from the way she treated other men. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Chanyeol joked, once Jieun had disappeared into the kitchen.

Suho flushed. “What are you saying?”

“It’s clear Jieun likes you,” Baekhyun pointed out. “She never used to make food and fuss over your health and stuff before.”

Suho shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “She’s just grateful that I’m driving her to those dance classes-“

“-and the way she calls you oppa,” Chanyeol pointed out.

“She calls all of you oppa, except Sehun!”

Baekhyun shook his head. “No, no. It’s not the same. When she says oppa to you, she does it in the sweet, sort of high-pitched tone that girls do when they want to look cute. The intonation is different. It’s not just calling you oppa, it’s like ‘oh oppa, look at me, I want your attention.’ Or ‘oppa, aren’t I cute?’. Trust me. I know the difference.”

“She does like you, hyung,” Sehun admitted.

Suho felt his cheeks turn red. He’d never imagined Jieun returning his feelings. He’d always thought that she would never see him that way, that he was like that older brother you respected and only really went to when you needed something. But if even Sehun was admitting that it seemed like Jieun liked him… his face flushed red. He wouldn’t let himself think about that. It was too much to expect. “She’s three years younger than me,” he muttered. “And she’s Sehun’s friend-“

Sehun scoffed. “Don’t put this on me. I don’t care who Jieun dates.”

Suho opened to respond, but Jieun re-entered the room with a heated bowl of soup and placed it in front of Suho with an excited smile. She handed him a spoon and sat down opposite him. “Oppa, tell me what you think! I tried something different with it today!”

Baekhyun tapped Jieun on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”

Jieun tore her eyes away from Suho to blink at him. “Hmm?”

“You brought out one bowl,” Baekhyun pointed out, before gesturing to himself, Sehun and Chanyeol. “But there are three more people here.”

Jieun smiled at him sweetly. “Good. Three people means three pairs of hands and legs. You can go get it yourself.”  

Baekhyun shot her a dirty look and leaned back in his seat. How rude. Just because she had a crush on Suho was no reason for her to treat the rest of them so badly. He smiled to himself and leaned back in his seat. He would get his revenge. “Suho-hyung,” he said lightly. “What happened to that girl from work you said you were interested in?”

Suho blinked, swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Girl from work?”

“Yeah. The pretty one that works at the reception, and keeps flirting with you. Didn’t you say that you asked her out for coffee? How did it go?” Baekhyun pressed. He glanced at Jieun and smirked when he saw that she had frozen, and her face had turned white.

Suho’s eyes widened, as he understood what Baekhyun was trying to do. “What? No, no, there’s nobody like that, seriously-“

“She’s really attractive. I saw her the other day when I came by to give you some of your files. She has a really pretty smile too, right? I would have asked her out myself, if you hadn’t already snagged her,” Baekhyun continued casually. “Seems mature, too. Is she older than you, hyung? Seems like you would be into noonas…”

Jieun stiffened. “I’ll… um, I’ll go get the rest of you some soup,” she muttered, quickly hurrying out of the room. She looked flustered and her cheeks were pink. Suho sighed as she ran into the kitchen quickly and then narrowed his eyes at Baekhyun.

“That wasn’t nice.”

“Neither was she,” Baekhyun replied simply.

Suho stood up slowly, biting his lip. He wondered if he should just ask her- did she like him? Were there actually any feelings there, or was she simply acting this way because she was grateful for everything he did for her? He couldn’t tell for sure, and it was killing him.

“Are you okay?” he asked Jieun quietly, following her into the kitchen.

Jieun bit her lip. She was facing the stove, having poured the remaining soup into a pot and was heating it silently. Her heartbeat thudded as Suho approached. She took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m fine,” she replied.

Suho cleared . “You don’t need to heat up the soup for those guys-“

“I don’t mind, really,” she insisted. She turned and smiled at him. “Oppa, you should go eat. You’ve been losing weight recently and I think it’s because you don’t eat your meals on time.”

“You’ve been working hard too. You know that you don’t need to do all this, right?” Suho asked softly. “It’s not your responsibility to feed us, Jieun-ah. We’re all adults.”

Jieun stared at him and flushed. She suddenly felt ashamed. What was she thinking? What was cooking a few measly meals going to change? Suho was still out of her league. She suddenly felt pathetic. She felt like a pre-school child that cheerfully made mud-cakes for a her high-schooler crush, oblivious to the fact that she really had no chance with him and he was just humoring her. Suho was older, and he was perfect. She was just a child in front of him. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“No, don’t apologize-“

“I’m such a burden, right?” she sniffed slightly as she turned back to the stove. Suho stared at her back, shocked. Was Jieun crying? He wasn’t sure if it was the onions that she’d put in the soup or if she was really crying. Her back was facing him. “You don’t want me hanging around all the time and imposing myself on you. Sorry. I’ll go home, I won’t bother you-“

Suho stared at her. “Who told you that you were a burden? That’s not what I’m trying to say at all.”

Jieun bit her lip and forced a watery smile. “Of course not. You’re too nice to say something like that.”

“Jieun-ah-“

“I just don’t know what to do. You do so much for me. You take care of me, and you give up sleep just to take me to dance classes and you’re such a good person that I can’t help but fall for you. But I must be annoying you. It’s okay. I know how silly my position is.” Jieun took a deep breath and held back her tears. She couldn’t help but feel so pathetic. “Oppa, you don’t need to take me to dance classes anymore-“

Suho felt his breath catch. “What are you trying to say, Jieun-ah?”

Jieun felt her shoulders tremble slightly. “I’m not good at hiding my feelings. So you must know already, right? Everybody else does. They’re probably laughing at me because I’m so silly for thinking I have a chance with you.”

“Nobody’s laughing at you,” he said softly. “Least of all, me.”

“But to be honest, it’s your fault too, oppa,” Jieun replied. Her eyes widened and she suddenly turned to face him. “You can’t- you can’t be so nice, and kind, and selfless and expect a girl not to fall for you. You should have seen it coming. It’s even worse when you get embarrassed and pretend to be oblivious about your own charms because it makes me fall for you even more.”

Suho flushed red. “That’s not-“

“It’s okay. I know you’re too nice to reject me. So I’ll just go, and you should date that girl from your office. I know you’ll treat her like a princess, and-“

“There’s no girl from my office,” Suho cut her off firmly. “My receptionist is 55 years old. Baekhyun was messing with you.”

“Oh.” Jieun avoided his gaze.

Suho took a deep breath and stepped closer to her. “Jieun-ah, look at me.”

“I can’t,” she mumbled. She was too afraid that his kind smile and warm eyes would her reel in again. She felt to embarrassed to even glance at him. Why had she let herself fall so hard for someone like Suho? Her hands shook. “Please don’t reject me nicely. I’d rather not have to listen to that, it’ll only remind me of what a good person you are and I know you hate hurting people’s feelings-“

“I’m not rejecting you.”

She stiffened as Suho gently grabbed one of her hands, and pulled her closer to him. Jieun couldn’t help it. She let herself look up at him. He was smiling down at her kindly, and Jieun felt weak under his gaze. Her heartbeat was thumping loudly in her chest. Her face was red. “Oppa, please don’t-“

“Let me kiss you,” he said softly. “’You don’t know how long I’ve been holding back.”

Jieun stared up at him in shock. Suho gently stroked her cheek with his thumb, giving her time to process the idea before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. It was a short and sweet kiss. His lips were warm and Jieun’s head spun as he slowly pulled away. Suho pressed his forehead against hers, and Jieun could feel his warm breath on her face.

Jieun’s head was spinning, and she stared up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted a little in surprise. “You-you’re really not going to reject me?” she whispered, shocked.

Suho bit his lip and smiled. “Not at all.”

“But-“

“I know you think I’m some great, selfless person,” Suho cut her off. “And that I do so much for you because I’m just nice, but the truth is, I’m not. I do these things because I care about you, and I’ve had feelings for you for a long time now.”

Jieun blinked. “R-really?”

“Hmmm,” Suho said softly. His hands came up to cup her cheeks. “But honestly, it’s your fault too. You can’t be so beautiful, and innocent and cute and expect a guy not to fall for you.”

Jieun couldn’t hold back her smile. “Sorry,” she said lightly.

“You don’t sound very apologetic this time.”

“I’m not.”

Suho nodded. “Good. You shouldn’t keep apologizing for everything. Some things don’t need an apology.”

“Like this?” she leaned up and pressed her lips to his again. Suho was taken aback, but he smiled and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He pulled her close to him, pressing kisses to her lips in between smiles and loving the way she felt in his arms. Jieun’s arms wound their way around his neck and she fisted his shirt in her hands as she kissed him back. For a moment, they completely forgot about the group of boys in the other room, until somebody cleared their throat loudly.

Suho pulled away and flushed as soon as he realized that Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Sehun were standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Uhh….” Suho flushed red and gently unraveled himself from Jieun.

Baekhyun had a smirk on his face. He folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe cockily. “Hyung. You’re aware that according to our agreement, if you and Jieun start dating then she’s not allowed in the apartment anymore, right?”

Jieun whirled around and glared at him. “You know that according to your agreement, you’re each supposed to be paying one-fifth of the rent, right?”

There was a brief silence, before the three of them turned and left the kitchen quietly. Jieun could hear them grumbling from the living room, something along the lines of ‘is she his girlfriend or his lawyer?’. Jieun turned back around to face Suho, who was smiling down at her.

“You’re adorable,” he told her gently.

“Me? Oppa, I swear. If you’re so nice, people are just going to keep taking advantage of you all the time.”

Suho smiled. “Lucky I have you to defend me.”

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

[annamariemirfin]

Trip to Dawson City- my first couchsurfing experience

I had organised to stay that night with a couchsurfing host rather than spending another night in the school gym. I was a little nervous about what this experience would be like. I worried that the social interaction would feel forced, or awkward but went into it anyway, armed with a pack of semi-firm tofu and a selection of vegetables to cook dinner with like a good, thoughtful, grain intolerant house guest. Andre, my host had instructed me to meet him halfway to his cabin at the end of a walking trail. I saw my host waiting for me shortly after rounding the corner of the street. Although I felt a little awkward around him at first, I soon found that Andre had a relaxing, calming aura about him that was enhanced by the dreamy, almost surreal northern sunlight that shone so intensely over the landscape from high overhead in the sky.

Andre’s cabin was a little more rustic than I had been anticipating. It consisted of one room only and had no running water or sink, which I wasn’t sure I was particularly enthusiastic about, but on the plus side, it smelt beautifully of incense and was decorated with art prints, meditation books and crystals. Andre showed me around the area before dinner. There was the old cemetery that was just down the lane from Andre’s cabin. It fascinated him, and he wondered what the stories of the people were that had been buried there. We also walked along to Crocus Bloom, a lookout point that was a particularly productive spot for the new springtime crocuses.

After going back to the cabin however, a dilemma soon arose. I didn’t particularly notice this at first. I was busy cooking dinner on a dual mini stove/oven which was balanced on top of the fridge which was crammed between a couch and the woodstove. Andre’s attention was focussed on the woodstove chimney. He kept prodding it with things, and there were a lot of rattling, shuffling sounds coming from above. “This is so annoying, the squirrel just won’t climb out.” he was saying, or something to that effect. I wasn’t paying much attention and absent mindedly agreed that it was frustrating. “I just don’t know what to do. This isn’t how I was expecting to spend my night.” Andre continued to poke at the squirrel. Then he lit the fire. We sat down for dinner. I took a few bites of lemon peppery tofu and crunchy grilled eggplant. “I feel bad for the squirrel.” Andre commented. The sounds of urgent squabbling and shuffling continued above our heads. It was at that point that the reality of the situation began to sink in. “Wait, but... you lit the fire...the squirrel will die.” The ugly realisation dawned on me. “I don’t know what else I can do.” Andre said. I took a few more bites of my dinner as I contemplated what was happening. Suddenly my meal didn’t taste quite as appetising. There was a squirrel roasting to death above my head. I thought about that. Was it really okay? As Andre said there wasn’t much we could really do was there? I wrestled with my conscience and motivation slightly. I imagined telling Marie, Eva and Menna the next morning that I had sat and eaten lemon pepper tofu whilst a squirrel burnt slowly to death above my head in the chimney. They would think I was a monster. They would never allow this sort of thing to happen. My slow brain continued to try and make sense of the unusual and increasingly, disturbing situation that was unfolding before me. I continued to form my moral stance aloud through more experimental, probing  statements, “it’s just so horrible though…”, “it doesn’t seem right…” “I don’t think I feel comfortable sleeping beneath a dead squirrel..” The weight of each statement sank in until I understood that despite the inconvenience and trouble that my conclusion entailed- it would be wrong to let the squirrel die. It would be wrong to eat dinner and continue about my evening instead of saving a poor innocent creature. There must have been something we could do. For a moment I almost used initiative. Instead I reached for my phone and typed “how to save squirrel from chimney.” into google. Apparently I needed a ladder and a rope. A very lengthy discussion then ensued between myself and Andre. I suggested getting a rope and a ladder. He said he didn’t have one. I suggested we could borrow one. He suggested that he didn’t want to do that. And so it went on. Each time I begrudgingly tried to propose a logical solution to each factor that inhibited action. I could climb the ladder, I could dangle the rope, I could go to the neighbours to get these things, none of which I really wanted to do, but absolutely, completely knew that I should. The problem was that my couchsurfing host had another commitment that evening. He and his girlfriend were celebrating their year anniversary that day and so the original plan was that he was actually just going to leave me in the cabin that evening and go to his girlfriend’s place. He really just wanted to leave to go and do that - not deal with a squirrel that was stuck in the chimney. He didn’t want it to damage the chimney either, and apparently did not care greatly about whether it lived or died. It was a pest. The ladder-possessing neighbours were also throwing a party which it would apparently be rude to interrupt. My host was clearly very torn and tortured by the situation. He texted a few people. He rang the neighbours (his landlord), walked out of the cabin to think and ring his girlfriend, walked back inside again. I tried to be as helpful and logical about this all as I could. “Well the sooner we resolve the problem, the sooner you can leave right?” I tentatively and hopefully, politely, proposed. I liked to think that I was being calm and mature but I really had no idea how I would have handled the situation either. I presumed I would have unraveled a little if I was the one bearing the responsibility in this situation myself. Andre disappeared again and I focussed on the one task I knew I could accomplish. I made a makeshift sink and started to awkwardly wash the dishes. The uncomfortable and foreign realisation dawned on me that I just didn’t know what to do. Usually in this situation I would be accompanied by someone who knew what to do. But right now I wasn’t. Google might have been able to suggest using a ladder and a rope to rescue a squirrel from a chimney, but it couldn’t tell me what to do when my couchsurfing host didn’t want to co-operate to get the squirrel out of the chimney and it couldn’t reassure me that it was okay to spend a horrible, restless night beneath restless, persistent squabbling sounds while a trapped creature struggled. Andre returned. “You know, if me staying here is a complicating factor I could just not stay here tonight.” I suggested. It seemed that opting out of the problem was the best solution. “I can probably still just go and stay at the school gym with Marie and the children again.” Andre agreed that was probably for the best. His landlord had said that he would lend him a gun tomorrow so that he could shoot the squirrel. The landlord didn’t want to squirrels there either and definitely wanted all of the squirrels to get that message. By now it was about 10pm at night. I contacted Marie and found that I could indeed come and stay in the gym that night if I needed to. Andre left to go to his girlfriend’s place, leaving me the option of staying in the cabin still if I wished. Neither option seemed like it was going to support a very good night’s sleep, but I thought I’d opt for the gym. I left and walked back down the hill trying not to feel too despondent. The sun was still out, and it was fairly light outside. This is the surreal experience of a northern spring (and summer) time. I considered that perhaps I could stay at a backpacker’s that evening, or a cheap motel. It was a bugger having to pay money for accommodation, but I felt as though honestly, I might value a good night’s sleep at around $40 that evening. I really didn’t want to feel this drained and exhausted, or even sick again tomorrow. I passed a hotel, The Triple J Hotel. Why not just give it a try? I thought. I pushed open the heavy glass door and walked up to the reception desk. The carpet was spongy and comfortable underfoot, the interior, though not particularly luxurious was very pleasant- too pleasant. I knew even before asking that this place was way outside of my price range. Indeed it was. It was $150 per night. I asked the receptionist if she could recommend anywhere that was around $50 or less per night. A man standing beside me, who had been filling out a form during this time chipped in. He said his friend was a hostel owner and that he’d give him a ring for me. He introduced himself as Randy. He was the head chef at the hotel and he’d just finished his shift for the night. I imagine he would have been either in his late 20s or early 30s. He had a genuine smile, pleasant bright blue eyes and a friendly, gentle demeanor. I explained briefly the silly situation I was in. “I’m just being fussy really,” I said. “I can just go and sleep at the gym if I need to.” He rang his friend and there was no answer. Randy offered that I could just come and sleep on the couch at his place if I wanted. He said he had a large flat that he shared with lots of other hotel / hospitality workers and that they’d done that kind of thing before for people who needed it, it was no big deal. “Well, if you’re offering…” I said. I could tell that this was a very kind, generous and trustworthy person I was talking to. “You know, I could just go and stay at my girfriend’s place tonight if that would make you feel more comfortable. You could have my room,” Randy suggested, to my disbelief. I insisted that he didn’t have to do that, but apparently that arrangement actually suited him better. He wanted to. And so we drove to Randy’s flat, he introduced me to his flatmate Katie, and showed me his room - “this is your place for the night.” he said “I hope you’re not allergic to cats...I have two...they’ll just kind of roam around at night, if they’re being annoying you can put their food outside the door... I have tonnes of dvds if you want to watch a movie...and help yourself to tea and coffee in the kitchen...have a shower if you want...yeah, just make yourself at home. I hope you have a comfortable stay!” I was completely astounded by the kindness that I was being shown by this complete stranger. “I’m just paying it forward.” Randy had said. I couldn’t believe my luck. I was being gifted an act of pure goodness from a gentle, kind person. When I woke up the next morning, in my very unusual sleeping accommodations, I felt almost completely at peace. Many of the feelings that I had felt the day before dissolved away completely. I listened to the gentle sounds of the morning outside and knew that I could lie in as long as I wanted and needed to. I let myself doze away a couple of hours without a care. I thought about the future, traveling to the places that Andre and I spoke of, and I felt reassured that wherever I went and whatever I did, I could do it, it would be okay. I thought about my failed couchsurfing experience with Andre and I felt satisfied in the way that it had been resolved for myself personally (though not for the squirrel, this really didn’t have a very satisfactory resolution). I thought of the day ahead and I felt eager and certain about what I was going to do and the pace I would do it at. I relished my aloneness in the moment of peace and quiet. Most of all, I felt totally and utterly spoiled. My surroundings weren’t flash, really this was just a standard sort of flat, but I was spoiled by good fortune and the luxury of kindness. I truly felt like one lucky, special girl indeed. I enjoyed the moment and allowed the feelings of confidence, peace and gratefulness to blossom inside me. I still can’t really believe my luck. I think that must have been one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. 

And that was my first ‘couchsurfing’ experience. 

[shawneeuhx0020-blog]

How you can Make A New Year's Eve Supper That Your Special Woman Will definitely Not Fail to.

To become flawlessly sincere I never ever offered a lot thought to using any sort of form of males's wedding celebration band once planning started the inquiry was raised in the course of a dinner with my quickly to become spouse. Place the character on the pole position from her automobile, on her dinner plate or connect a balloon to it when you choose her up for a day. The United States head of state went over to all of them at the conclusion of the dinner superform-extrastrenght.info as well as explored along with Putin, the official stated. As an example, Trish's mama functioned permanent in the 50s, in a restaurant zero much less, however she was actually the one which introduced this dinner to her family members, due to the convenience and also the flexibility this provided her. I wound up acquiring this frosted pizza at our neighborhood Walgreen's a married couple nights ago for $4.99. My partner and I at that point made this pizza on our pizza stove and had this as a dinner for two that night. As a matter of fact, for destination weddings, the practice session supper may simply be a relaxing experience, a night prior to" gathering, in order that every person awaits the wedding ceremony the next day. If you are hosting this dinner gathering on your own, without the support from a companion or flatmate, inquire some of your attendees to assist you on the night. That can help our newbie prime minister, Yahoo Canada News has explored low and high to collect this listing of prospective gift suggestions that Trudeau could possibly show to the Obamas at the state supper in his honour. An ideal intimate supper recipe to cook for your girl prepares to be provided. Easy dinner table design suggestions feature using orange colored votives and candles as well as cluster from silk as well as dried out loss florals. I do certainly not have a large dining table, so I spread out all the foods for Thanksgiving holiday dinner on the counter in my kitchen area, and also this was total. One ought to consistently go with customizeded glass dinner collections and also layers which are actually durable and also remain stunning, just as good as new, for a long period of time. Uncertain regarding noting my special day with a dinner out, our experts lastly decided to try Clark & Lewie's (named obviously after the popular trip) in Stephenson on the Washington edge from the water. If you think overwhelmed by all the cookbooks you have or even the 1000s, or even millions, of recipes for supper on the internet to variety through, limit your possibilities using at least three substances you currently invite your cupboard or refrigerator. As soon as you begin to know these folks individually, be sure that you maintain document from their titles to ensure that they can essentially be invited to your supper. This cordless red wine opener will definitely bring in opening up wine at dinner parties a cinch. When opting for an after supper speaker, the first factor to think about is the style as well as range from the activity. Whether you are actually an university student just beginning your own culinary practices or an experienced gourmet chef along with several supper gatherings under your belt, there is constantly one thing brand new to discover preparing food. If you are actually organizing a supper for teenagers at that point you may use different motifs for instance you could try murder secret theme through helping make mysterious invitation cards that will attract your guests and also produce your visitors appreciate an evening filled with enjoyment as well as shame.

Sunday dinner preparing food performs certainly not must be just about as difficult as a number of our company create it bent on be. Many fantastic crock-pot dishes may in fact be readied although you sleep. Possessing a great civil family members Mother's Time dinner may give her a preference from the sort of lifestyle every girl hungers for, despite the fact that lifestyle is hardly how it is in storybooks, flicks, as well as tv programs.

[restorativemeal]

Menu Thirty-One

Menu Thirty-One from Bishop and Carruthers' "The Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook".

Artichoke and Tofu Cannelloni: artichoke hearts, tofu, butter, onion, garlic, lemon rind, lemon juice, fresh basil, oregano, dijon mustard, salt, pepper, mozzarella, ricotta, parmesan, cream, cannelloni, capsicum, tinned tomatoes, tomato paste. 

Butter Steamed Courgettes: courgette, water, butter, salt, pepper. 

Red Cabbage Salad: red cabbage, apple, celery, raisins, walnuts, sour cream, garlic, brown sugar, wholegrain mustard, salt, malt vinegar, oil, pepper. 

It was the beginning of March, the first day of the Week Twenty-Five was already the fourth day of the new Month. Historically, March was about dropping all the pieces you had picked up in February. The case of the vicious circle came to a head on that first day when, like social media app TikTok suggested, someone returned. I had thought the window was locked but when I realised it wasn’t I didn’t try to remedy it. A newness had arrived over the prior weekend, a flatmate had moved into the empty room and I thought this might mean a new guest at the table. In terms of the cookbook, I was knocking off the thirty-first menu.

On Tuesday I was plagued by an inner morosity, spirit crushed and fearful of the fact that I knew how things ended. It hadn’t gone past me, that by recognising a vicious circle, the top of the curve no longer had the rivetting aspects that it did when life was just cyclical. I had to consider whether this is what addicts feel when they take the first step and recognise they have a problem. 

The handle on the interior of my car had been broken off by the man at the garage when he checked it for its warrant of fitness back in February. I had no replacement and nothing to control the motion of the car door. I did the shopping this day and with the above information taken into account, did something bad I can’t admit to in writing. If things had been different, I would have taken accountability, but they didn’t, so I drove home from the supermarket and went to bed for the night. I was living with the knowledge that to some people I was “like a disinterred person,” that a corpse was even more lively than me. 

Artichoke and Tofu Cannelloni filling

Wednesday arrived and the new flatmate informed me he wouldn’t be home for dinner. I had four guests and myself. Two of them, my flatmates, one the now ex-flatmate, and the fourth, a friend who believed she wasn’t meant to have flatmates. I stood in the kitchen, the weather had cooled, it was Autumn. The menu was relatively simple, with one main dish and two sides containing mere vege. All appliances worked as they should and guests arrived in a normative fashion, one after the other.

It was easier shuffling a group of four from the living to dining room, they followed as I carried out the Artichoke and Tofu Cannelloni. Comfortably seated, there was the perfect amount of cannelloni to share between us. It was a balanced meal and we discussed artichoke as we ate. Before cooking with Bishop and Carruthers I had never eaten an artichoke. I confessed that I was nervous about the full moon I had been made aware of on TikTok, it was due to fall on the last night of Week Twenty-Five. Decisions made by air signs may be misleading, uncharacteristic, or chaotic. My fears were not quelled because the guests did not believe in it. 

Week Twenty-Five, March had begun and pieces were dropping from my grasp, I was certain only of endings and my need for restorative meals. 

[restorativemeal]

Menu Twenty-Eight

Vegetable Lasagne Verdi: lasagne sheets, spinach, cottage cheese, cheddar cheese, parmesan cheese. 

Mushroom Sauce: onion, garlic, oil, butter beans, salt and pepper, oregano, sugar, tinned whole tomatoes. 

Cheese Sauce: butter, flour, salt, pepper, nutmeg, cups, cheddar cheese, parmesan cheese. 

I remember almost every word ever said to me and ChatGPT once told me to be honest when I wrote retroactively. I’m writing at the tail end of Week Twenty-Four, about Week Twenty-Three. But I served my guests Menu Twenty-Eight, I was learning the same lesson as I did at the very beginning of this journey. Without alignment between weeks to menus I am left in disarray. Jung’s thesis around self-realisation was getting to me because he said it was nearly impossible for anyone but Jesus or Buddha to reach full self-realisation. I felt naive for setting out on this journey. I was nearing the end of the Primer and had learned that self-realisation could only be achieved if all parts of the self, the persona and the shadow, the ego and the anima, were fully integrated.

Essential elements

There was only one meal for Menu Twenty-Eight, a lasagne. Bishop and Carruthers broke the recipe down into three essential elements. Separate at first and then brought together at the end. The person before self-realisation. This was the third pasta dish of the journey, consecutively, because despite my previous thoughts and feelings around the non-linear nature of the journey I wanted to regain some direction.

I started on Wednesday evening with the Mushroom Sauce, mashing butter beans in a metal bowl. Garlic and onion were sauteed in my largest pan then combined with the mashed beans, tomatoes and spices. Left to simmer, but not for very long. The Cheese Sauce, was a simple roux with grated cheeses and nutmeg lightly stirred in. That was all I needed to do over the stove, under the extractor fan which I had not turned on. The lasagne was assembled in the glass dish, fresh spinach and cottage cheese thrown on instinctively between the layers. I let this sit as long as time allowed, Bishop and Carruthers had instructed for oven-ready pasta to be left to sit with the sauce for at least an hour, but I had not read the recipe prior to cooking. It went into the oven at the lowest temperature to cook for as long as the oven would function. Guests arrived during this time, my ex-flatmate the first to arrive, her first time as a guest. Change was not necessarily a theme I thought a lot about anymore, which was a change in and of itself, however change was apparent this week. The room she had once lived in was empty until the replacement moved in, and the violent change I had reported earlier in the journey came to fruition this week. I threw together a simple salad, as mentioned in the fine print down the side of the recipe. I had full creative license over the salad and went with a salad bag from the supermarket with avocado, cherry tomatoes, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar.

Served, to perfect guests

When dinner was served, I brought it out to a table of five eager guests. They knew I had made lasagne before. Compliments were paid to me, and praise offered to Bishop and Carruthers for the use of beans to bulk out a vegetarian lasagne. We discussed roux. At the end of the meal I felt no closer to a fully formed self, but a sense of promise in the process toward doing so. On the final day of the week, my two remaining flatmates and I had moved the dining table into the room that had previously been an unusable lounge, and before that my bedroom. The room had about as many lives as the person with a fragmented self. I hoped that the change in setting would reignite the Wednesday dinner moving forward.

[restorativemeal]

Menu Fourteen

Menu Fourteen from Bishop and Carruthers' "The Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook".

Chilled Apricot and Apple Soup: tinned apricots with juice, granny smith apples, celery, orange rind, orange juice, lemon juice, ground ginger, cinnamon, white wine, natural yoghurt, chives. 

Egyptian Kusherie: oil, brown lentils, boiling water, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, rice, tomato paste, water, capsicum, sugar, cumin, chilli sauce, worcester sauce. 

Browned Onions: oil, onion, garlic, sugar. 

Borani (Persian Salad): cucumber, plain yoghurt, spring onion, raisins, salt, white pepper, parsley, mint. 

Spicy Chickpea Salad: cauliflower, chickpeas, tumeric, tomatoes, onions, ground cumin, salt, pepper, parsley, oil, lemon juice. 

Green Salad: cos lettuce, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper. 

It was the fourteenth week and the fourteenth menu. Fourteen weeks and it felt vaguely dull, if I thought anything about significance it was the lack thereof. The week was repetitive in too many ways for me to take anything new away. I watched the same movie for the second week in a row. There was a chilled soup on the menu, only three weeks after the Chilled Watermelon and Cucumber soup of my birthday. And I found that my previous suspicion that patterns are made and then broken was after all true when I shopped for ingredients on Monday after work. There was no way that anything new would come out of the Fourteenth week. On Tuesday at lunch time I walked down to the bulk store to find brown lentils because I still wanted to forge a love story with the guy behind the till. Unfortunately, he was working, just not behind the till. It was the last few days of November, I was running on a sort of social battery, dependent on those that would spend the non-working hours with me. 

By the time it came to be Wednesday it was apparent I would only have one guest for dinner. I had attempted to convince her to bring a sick plus one by insisting that soup would make them feel better. I withheld the fact it was a cold soup again. After work that evening, I collected my singular guest. She carried a bottle of red wine and stood in the supermarket car park. We intended on cooking the four page spread of Menu Fourteen together. She thought it would be fun but I thought that sharing the kitchen might be the biggest challenge of the entire “Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook”. Insisting that she remained at the table with her glass of red wine and my flatmate, I prepared the chilled soup alone with my glass of red wine in the kitchen. I opened the tinned apricots with shaky hands. The noise of the blender interrupted conversation in the dining room and I felt bad. The Chilled Apricot and Apple soup was prettier than the Chilled Watermelon and Cucumber soup from my birthday week. There was a promise in the kitchen. 

When my flatmate left, my guest walked into the narrow kitchen. We were going to start the Egyptian Kusherie together. For the next 15 minutes we emotionally wrestled around the tiny kitchen on the dead end street, she made the lentils and I made the tomato sauce to go with them, had I been downgraded to sous chef? We had Lana Del Rey playing on my flatmate’s speaker, I realised how little of the things I used belong to me. At the end of those 15 minutes my guest needed to lie down. Either I had hexed her, or her journey with Bishop and Carruthers was on the same track as mine. Could she have been in some sped-up-time-warp where her time in the kitchen was equivalent to a second week. Was she the second victim of Bishop and Carruthers’ second week curse? She didn’t know Bishop and Carruthers like I did. Were the brown lentils the Cheeky Plum Sauce of her second week? As she lay in my bed, I cooked the rest of the menu. I felt guilty that I had won and nervous that I was never going to be able to cook alongside somebody else. I cooked swiftly because it was now a matter of feeding a sick person and not providing a free dinner for someone I had driven over from the supermarket. An infirmary not a restaurant. There was an empty Uber Eats bag on the floor of the kitchen which every so often I would kick into the middle of the room, it was a testament to my character that I never picked it up and put it in the bin for recycling. When things aren’t broken don’t fix them, but even when things are broken I tend not to fix them. 

Hospital kitchenette

I called my guest from her sick bay back into the dining room when dinner was served. She was feeling better. The dishes were colourful on the table, yellow and red. Menu Fourteen tasted fine, but Menu Fourteen seemed to have become something of utility rather than something no one other than myself needed. Maybe then, Menu Fourteen changed the course of my capacity to care for others. Thinking back to fourteen weeks ago, I started this in a hope of caring more for myself, restoration of the self, a restorative meal after caring so much about whether other people cared about me. It was the three days till the end of November and fourteen weeks since I’d been rejected twice in one day. 

Served and cleaned.