#french fries line cost

[joyshinemachinerycompany]

500kgh french fries prodction line in Angola| french fries making machine | french fries machine

Capacity:50kg/h-1t/h Machine material:SUS304 Raw material: fresh potato https://hnjoyshine.com/products/Fully-Automatic-French-fries-Production-Line.html Wechat/whatsapp:8613213203466

[cnyazhongmachinery]

Indian customer visits to test material loss for making frozen french fries

Why our french fries making machine is best in China food machine industry?Because the loss of potato can be reduced 20% for customer. Though this our clients can get high quality products and get more benefit that other food machiner suppliers.know more details, contact us soon!Though wechat/whatsapp:+86132132034666

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Magdalena

Author: Mme Yersinia

Artist: Robin

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Castiel, implied Sam/Rowena

Length: 150000

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, torture, self-harm and suicidal ideation

Tags: Canon-divergent s13, domestic kid fic, complex family dynamics, rural americana, mutual pining, dadstiel, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, redemption arcs

Posting Date: October 25, 2023

Summary: Castiel swore to protect Jack at all costs. If that means taking him away from the dark dungeon of the bunker, and away from the harsh words and hands of Dean Winchester, then so be it. Castiel takes Jack and runs. He finds them a safe town, a battered rental house, a little job and a little life. He wants Jack to have a normal childhood; to grow up safe and loved, not in a windowless basement.  Dean tracks them down, of course. He begs forgiveness, of course. But redemption is a long, slow road. It’s paved with ginger cats and broken-down Hondas, stolen kisses and dusty libraries and bathroom repairs. Dean and Castiel find themselves growing closer in the haze of domesticity. Dean moves from sleeping in the car, to the sofa, to Castiel’s bed. It’s not easy to carve out a place for themselves in a world that doesn’t always want them.  But strange things start to happen in the home they’ve made. Neighbors complain of shadows in the night. Monsters appear that don’t belong. Coincidences line up.  Wherever peace and happiness try to grow, there are adversaries who would snuff it out. The love holding their family together just might be the last weapon they have against the evils of the world.

Excerpt: Castiel takes his lunch break outside whenever the weather allows. He always intends to spend it reading one of the library’s newest additions. Usually he ends up watching other creatures instead. Birds flit back and forth in the courtyard’s ill-kempt bushes. Interesting insects crawl between the boards of the picnic table. A woman a few blocks down is walking her fluffy, prim little dog on a pink leash when Castiel’s phone buzzes. He hopes that it’s the bank calling him back to say there was a mistake, actually, the check has come through. But no: it’s a text from Sam. “You and Jack doing okay?” The midday sun bakes the back of Castiel’s neck, rising a ring of sweat around the collar of his polo shirt. The library dress code is business casual. He’d Googled what that meant after his interview, and then he and Jack had frantically made a trip to the local Goodwill to scrape together a week’s worth of work clothes for him. Jack had found a dinosaur cup for fifty cents, though, so the outing had been successful by more than one standard. Castiel had almost picked out a flannel. The well-worn, faded, familiar stripes caught his eye from the hanger in the men’s row. Fondness and bitterness blended in a strange way in Castiel's grace until Jack caught him staring and asked, “Do you want that one, too?” “We can’t afford it,” Castiel had blurted out, turning away, because by then it was their turn to check out. He stares at Sam’s text message. Above it are a long stream of others, most unanswered. It’s not Sam’s fault. He’s just stuck working damage control. Castiel taps back an answer. “Yes.” It’s not a lie. A few moments pass and Castiel doesn’t put his phone away. He watches a brown-striped bird peck at the remnants of someone’s french fries on the ground. A reply pops up on his screen. “Can you tell me where you are?” Castiel frowns, chews his lip. His break is almost over. He’s got to work on re-filing the historical nonfiction (F through K) when he goes back inside the library. He texts back, “No.” If it was up to him - if there were fewer variables in this nasty equation  - the answer might be different. He doesn’t want Sam trying to visit so he can peer in on their little life that’s trying to grow into the shape of something human. He doesn’t want pitying glances or offers of help. Least of all does he want Dean to know where they are. Dean has no right to that. The phone burbles a reply: “Okay. Let me know if you or Jack need anything. Talk soon.” Castiel stares down at the washed-out screen in the warm glare of sunlight. His bittersweet moroseness feels out of place in such fine weather, butting up against the scalding green of the garden. He gets to his feet and drags his vessel back inside the library. 

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

between the lines | prologue

rúben dias x original female character [+18]

synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender. warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy;  minors dni.

masterlist | next chapter

Prologue

“You were at Wembley yesterday?”

“Yep. And I’ll be covering the final as well. Manchester derby!” Victor raises his pint glass in my direction as I sit down. Victor, Sebastian – our other friend at the pub table – and I were ESPN spanish correspondents, covering the Premier League. This has been my first season in England; After leaving Spain a few years ago, right after college, I worked practically everywhere that matters: Italy, France, Germany. Coming to England was bound to happen eventually.

“Well, I’m kinda covering a final too. I’ll be at the Etihad on Wednesday.” I brag to my fellow coworkers. Manchester City will be playing Arsenal in what is the most anticipated game in the Prem this season, it’s a head-to-head, title decider kind of match. And I’m lucky enough to be working in it.

“Damn, I wish I got that game.” Victor whistles.

The beautiful coincidence of it all is that my older brother, Carlos, has been living in Manchester with his wife Sienna for the past 3 years, and last year they welcomed into the world my first niece, Lucía. I don’t have a big family, in fact, it’s just Carlos and I now. So, when I heard that I was going to be an aunt, the move to England felt more like a blessing and less like my bosses back in Spain cutting costs on reporters.

“Honestly I can’t wait to use the term ‘bottled’.” Sebastian says grinning and I immediately answer, throwing a french fry at his overall direction.

“You’re a Tottenham supporter, Seb, shut the fuck up.”

“Alright, no need to get personal, let’s all calm down.”

After spending monday night at the pub, as usual, I go back to my – mind you – charmingly decorated studio apartment. That’s my favorite part about constantly moving, getting a new place in a new country turns my life into a blank canva. I can be a totally new person every time. This time I went with a ‘earth tones’ palette for the decor. I’m an earth tone apartment type of woman now. It 's exciting. 

As I lay in bed, I found myself unable to sleep. The problem is that the cause of my insomnia has an Instagram profile. In all of my years working with football I have never been so attracted to a player like this. It 's revolting. It 's humiliating. I’ve lost count of how many times I had to interview him this season, and every single time I was blushing like a complete idiot. And it keeps getting worse. Rúben Dias has made me lose sleep for weeks in a row now. So I open the Insta app once again and stare at his ridiculous topless pictures for way too long trying to calm myself down. I tap my own belly, now filled with beer and french fries, and laugh at myself. It’s never ever going to happen, I really need to get over myself.

[olivelovesbeeeeeees]

"When We Were Young" Tour, Las Vegas, NV 10.2024.

i'm trying to think if i've ever been to an actual music festival that had more than 2 or 3 bands performing.

i don't think i have.

until just this past weekend.

it was fun. it was nostalgic. i loved people watching. i felt i was with "my previous people" from my past life of goths, emos, skaters, Hot Topic-y clientele. it was great! my favorite people were these characters that were holding up poster boards written in black Sharpie, "looking for an emo/goth girlfriend." hey, they were definitely in the right place to meet their potentials!

but. i don't think i could do it again, lol. as much as i loved being there, i honestly could not hang. for a general admission ticket, the cost for one was $400. after taxes and fees, it was about $1k just for our two tickets so you best bet your pies that i was going to make sure we got the most out of our experience at this music festival. doors opened at 1000. there were 4 stages with 60 bands staggered on a program up until the last performance at 2250. this festival was 14+ hours long!

and Juan and i started strong. we left our hotel room around 0915ish and got to the entrance of the music festival right before 1000. there was a merch stand right outside the entrance so we fell in line there 1st, purchased 4 shirts and a hat, went inside, ate a $22 entree of loaded french fries, and started stage hopping. the closest we got to the stage was for Coheed and Cambria (we maybe had about 6 rows of people in front of us) that we were right next to a mosh pit that Juan partook in and got a rib kicked in. i really got a big kick out of a dude near us that had a shirt that said "40 and older crowd surf coordinator," lol! and he did! people were going up to him and he would say, "yup! i'll make it happen!" lol! but he was just another one of us regular joes, which just made it all the better!

about halfway through the day, about 1600ish, Juan said that we if wanted to be as close to the stage for the headliners, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy, we needed to start making our way toward the front row - so about 4-5 acts before the headliners. so we started with "Taking Back Sunday," then "The Used," and when "Pierce the Veil" started playing...i was feeling like a canned sardine. i had sweaty people rubbing up on me and it was so hot. then there was this taller white girl to the left of me that was fist pumping the air...hard...i really thought i was going to take her elbow in my face. that was when I sadly realized i couldn't hang. i was perfectly fine with listening to these bands from afar with them looking about a centimeter tall to me. the large 3 projector screens they had on stage were suffice enough to still make my music festival experience great. so i told Juan i was done and he started paving the way towards the back where there was space, fresher air and food.

but by 1900ish, i was shutting down. my feet were so sore and my legs were cramping up. i honestly didn't know if i was going to make it to the headliners, but then i kept reminding myself how expensive this festival was, how much i love this genre of music and the very high probability that i would willingly not do this again, lol.

and we did. :)

"Fall Out Boy" was great. Pete Wentz has long hair, half up with space buns. "My Chemical Romance" had a ton of good singles. Gerard Way is my inner emo girl's fairy tale prince.

P.S. and "Simple Plan!" my all time, #1, favorite pop-punk band!

[chemicalsectorupdates]

Navigating Regulatory Frameworks in the Frozen Food Market

The Frozen Food market will grow at highest pace owing to increasing demand for convenient food products The frozen food market includes various frozen food products such as frozen pizza, meat products, seafood, vegetables, fruits, ready meals, French fries and other similar food products. Frozen food items are conveniently stored and have a longer shelf life as compared to fresh food items due to freezing at extremely low temperatures which slows down the growth of microorganisms. Frozen food items offer a variety of choices to consumers in terms of variety, flavor and can be cooked quickly. The global frozen food market is estimated to be valued at US$ 167116.37 Mn in 2024 and is expected to exhibit a CAGR of 4.8% over the forecast period 2023 to 2030. Market Trends Health and wellness trend - The increasing health consciousness among consumers has driven demand for frozen foods that are low in calories, fat, sugar and sodium. Many frozen food manufacturers are offering product lines focused on natural and organic ingredients. Sustainability - Issues like food wastage and packaging waste have prompted frozen food producers to adopt sustainable sourcing and packaging practices. Companies are using more recyclable and eco-friendly materials for frozen food packaging. Market Opportunities Millennials and Generation Z - Younger consumer groups are fueling demand for nutrition-rich frozen meals and snacks on-the-go due to their fast-paced lifestyles. Players can launch products tailored to the tastes and preferences of these demographic segments. Plant-based frozen foods - Vegetarianism and veganism are on the rise globally due to health and environmental reasons. There is opportunity to develop more innovative frozen food options from plant-based ingredients like meat alternatives, dairy substitutes etc. Impact of COVID-19 on Frozen Food Market Growth The COVID-19 pandemic has significantly impacted the growth of the frozen food market globally. During the initial lockdown phases in early 2020, a significant decline in the sales of frozen food products was witnessed due to closure of hotels, restaurants, and limited operations of retail stores. The supply chain disruptions caused shortages and impacted the availability of products in stores. Fastest Growing Region for Frozen Food Market The Asia Pacific region is expected to be the fastest growing market for frozen foods over the forecast period. The increasing population, rapid urbanization, rising disposable income, and changing food consumption patterns are some of the key factors fueling the demand for frozen foods in Asia Pacific countries like China, India and Japan. The growth of modern retail formats like supermarkets and hypermarkets has enhanced the availability and visibility of frozen food products across major APAC cities. Moreover, growing working women population opting for convenient ready-to-eat or cook meals is propelling the market growth in the region. Leading global frozen food players are focusing on penetrating untapped markets in South East Asian countries by adapting innovative marketing strategies and localization of products. The APAC frozen food market is anticipated to attract significant investments due to availability of resources, low production costs and growing frozen food consumption trend among Asian consumers.

[ainews]

Luncheonettes, once a mainstay of American neighborhoods, have become inadmissible for eternity due to a variety of changes in the American way of life. The passing of the generations correlates to a decline in the popularity of such establishments and an increase in the popularity of larger, more modern fast-food chains.

In the past, a luncheonette was a small, diner-style restaurant usually offering short-order fare such as hamburgers, hot dogs, french fries and shakes. It was often a family-run operation, with a friendly, down-home atmosphere that created a sense of neighborhood. It served as a gathering spot for locals, a place to catch up on gossip and share a laugh.

But times have changed, with the advent of large corporate fast-food chains and an increasing trend toward convenience and grab-and-go meals. Luncheonettes are … well, a thing of the past. Plus, many of them tend to not offer the space or variety of menu options that patrons now expect from a quick-service restaurant.

The rise of fast-food chains has also put a major dent in the bottom line of a family-run luncheonette. The cost of running such an establishment, especially in regards to labor costs, is more than many are comfortable with. In addition, many people don't find the experience of a luncheonette to be as fun and exciting as a visit to a drive-through restaurant.

It's no wonder why luncheonettes have all but faded into obscurity. For eternity they'll remain an icon of a bygone era, a reminder of a simpler, slower time when an establishment could be the center of a community.

[gastroenterologyucgconferences]

What Foods Aid in Acid Reflux Relief?

#Submit Abstract impart your knowledge with the rest of the world and submit your abstract today. Remember, the abstracts can be presented physically & online at the CME/CPD accredited 13th World Gastroenterology, IBD & Herpetology Conference happening during December 15-17, 2023 in Dubai, UAE.

Submit your paper here: https://gastroenterology.universeconferences.com/submit-abstract/

Email: gastroenterology@universeconferences.net

WhatsApp No: +442033222718

#IBD #Exploredubai #TechnologyandGastroenterology #EmiratesCongress #GHUCG2023 #hepatologyconference2023

#colonoscopy #gastroforum #gastroenterologia #Hepatologist

What foods relieve acid reflux? One of the most vexing sensations we experience is acid reflux. It not only feels like our insides have caught fire, but it is also accompanied by chest pain. Other symptoms include, to name a few, burping, hiccups, nausea, and a sore throat. It usually appears at the worst possible times, such as during a business meeting that could make or break your chances of promotion, or on a date with someone you greatly admire and hope to continue a relationship with.

To make matters worse, thinking about what acid reflux really means is disgusting. "...acid produced by your stomach can move up into your oesophagus," according to WebMD. This can result in symptoms such as heartburn, which is characterised by a burning sensation in the chest. You may have acid reflux disease, also known as gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD), if you experience acid reflux symptoms more than twice a week." (Bhatt, 2019). It's not pleasant to consider that food from your stomach is making its way up your oesophagus and into your throat.

As if that wasn't enough, acid reflux and GERD are linked to oesophageal cancer, a deadly disease that is on the rise. "Oesophageal cancer is the sixth most common cause of cancer deaths worldwide," according to the Mayo Clinic. (2018) (Mayo Clinic). Using the same source, here are some oesophageal cancer symptoms:

Having difficulty swallowing

Pain in the chest and burning sensations

Hoarseness and coughing

Unknown cause of weight loss

That is terrifying. Don't put off getting a proper diagnosis and treatment plan for acid reflux for too long.

What causes acid reflux?

There are numerous foods that can cause acid reflux. If you naturally suffer from reflux, here is a short list of things to avoid:

Fried foods such as French fries, chicken tenders, chicken nuggets, and so on.

Butter

Foods high in fat, such as red meat

Foods that are spicy

Tomatoes with a citrus flavour

Coffee

Alcohol \soda

Chocolate

What foods relieve acid reflux?

Changing your diet will be difficult, but it will be well worth it, especially when you consider the health costs of acid reflux and GERD. Nothing is more important than your health, so here is a list of foods that can help alleviate acid reflux.

Low-cholesterol and lean

This one is simple to get used to because it contains chicken, salmon, trout, turkey, almonds, and lentils. There are other options, but these are excellent for keeping the burning man at bay. Try them "grilled, broiled, baked, or poached," according to Health line.

Ginger

This one is great for stomach problems in general, but it works especially well for acid reflux. Ginger can be consumed in a variety of ways, including ginger ale, ginger gum, and cooking with the root.

[joyshinemachinerycompany]

Joyshine in 2023 Canton Fair|c|potato processing machine

#joyshine food machine #automatic french fries machine #automatic potato chips making machine 1. adopts SUS304 material 2. Capacity: 50kg/h-1t/h and offer customized service Wechat/whatsapp:8613213203466

[cnyazhongmachinery]

fully automatic french fries making machine for sale|french fries plant cost

Frozen french fries production line is used for making french fries quickly. Three types heating methods: gas, electricity and both Wechat/whatsapp:+8613213203466

[alex123456moralas]

The Best Traditional Restaurants in Quito

Quito has a long history of offering delicious local cuisine that is known as comida tipica. The word is translated poorly into English into "typical cuisine," although it is far from being ordinary. The most delicious traditional meals usually are eaten during the lunch hour, during lunchtime, when Ecuadorians consume their biggest dinner during the course of their day. For help in finding the most suitable option for your budget, This list of top traditional restaurants spans from fancy restaurants to fast-food restaurants that are casual.

*You can book your cheap flights from Chicago to Quito with the Lowest Flight fares and enjoy a trip.

La Casa Los Geranios

La Casa Los Geranios, situated in the cobblestoned historical area located in La Ronda, serves traditional Ecuadorian dishes that are seasoned with the umph of. Chef executive Juan Carlos Cordova uses only the finest ingredients to cook traditional dishes such as fritada, fritada de papa, and Llapingachos. Fresh juices of fruit, such as Babaco and Naranjilla are made on-site. The exquisitely arranged, the modern dining area is warm and inviting.

Restaurante Lena Quitena

Although it could appear as an uninvited tourist attraction initially, restaurant Lena Quitena offers delicious traditional food at an affordable cost. The most comfortable seating is up on the upper level on the patio with a stunning view of the streets lined with cobblestones below. The indoor seating is highly sought-after when there is live music. For those on a tight budget, it is recommended to visit around lunchtime and request the menu for the day.

Pims at Itchimbia

Although Pims has several places in Quito The best one is located at Parque Itchimbia. The menu is generally Ecuadorian and includes popular dishes like Locro de Papa and Seco De Chivo. The restaurant is loved by the local Ecuadorians for consistently great food and a stunning view of historical Quito.

You can book your flights from New York to Paramaribo with the Lowest Flight fares and enjoy a trip.

Cafe de la Vaca

Just out of Quito located just outside of Quito in San Rafael, and two locations further away located in Machachi in Machachi and Cumbaya, Cafe de la Vaca is famous for its breakfast. The fresh cream and cheese are straight from their dairy. If you are a fan of the well-known potato soup, called locro papa Cafe de La Vaca has five variations which include the famous yaguarlocro which includes the inclusion of the blood of a sheep. They also have a huge variety of local juices including delicious milkshakes, as well as excellent hamburgers.

Fried Bananas

Although it is located in the fashionable Mariscal area, Fried Bananas is hidden from the hustle in Plaza Foch. The menu is international and offers a variety of excellent Ecuadorian choices, such as the oven-roasted trout served with fritted plantains, fried yucca rice, salad or arroz con Cameron, and fried rice, a dish that is loaded with shrimp. For dessert, don't overlook the bananas that are fried!

Palacio de la Fritada

If you truly want to feel local, head over to Palacio de la Fritada in Cumbaya. The restaurant is often filled with Ecuadorians who are ordering the finest frigates in town that includes motes, choclo, sweet plantains, and potato pancakes fried. Grandmas who want the best caldo de patas but aren't able to cook the dish at home get it at this restaurant. Remember, it's a lunch-only restaurant.

Vaco y Vaca

Vaco y Vaca, located in nearly every shopping center in Ecuador is a top family favorite when celebrating birthdays. The restaurant is very well-known and provides the food that is the most common Ecuadorian cuisine: pork, chicken or beef, cut thin and pan-fried. It is served alongside french fries and a bowl of beans referred to as a ministry. If you're looking to have your criollo cooked in a traditional way it will be garnished with fried onions and eggs that have been cooked.

Mercado Inaquito

If you're looking to sample traditional Ecuadorian food one of the best places to go is the market in Iquitos. The food court in the market is a taste of comfort food heaven. Vendors who sell sliced pork from a slice of whole roasted pork are lined up along one wall. Then there are friends sellers selling portions of fried pork, with all the fixings. some vendors sell secos, which are steamed meat, served with a side of rice as well as fried sweet plantains. The staff is hard at work to keep the eating area clean and tidy. Fast food at its best.

[ultronmachine]

100kgh french fries making machine in Chile | french fries machine price

French fries production line is worth to invest in Chile which can help get more profits. The capacity of french fries machine can be customized, 50kg/h-2t/h. The process of making fench fries plant: potato washing and peeling machine- potato cutter-bubble washing machine-fench fries blanching machine- blanched french fries dewatering machine -french fries frying machine-fried french fries deoiling machine-french fries seasoning machine -french fries packaging machine https://www.hnjoyshine.com/products/Semi-automatic-French-Fries-Production-Line.html

[dat-town]

dude, but like romantically

Characters: Mark Lee & female reader

Setting & genre: college au, friends to lovers, ‘and they were roommates’, slice of life, fluff, comedy

Summary: You expected nothing but stress from your last college semester, so when Mark Lee came along and called you dude, you had to re-calculate everything.

Warnings: semi-typical college parties, alcohol consumption, Mark is precious (#SoftMarkLeeHours) and a funny drunk, he also ruins eggs like a pro, slow burn, stressing out your friends with your obliviousness like it was graded, i know nothing about basketball and it shows, includes discussion about the stress and uncertainties of being a senior at college, bunch of nct and 99-line cameos

Words: 10k

Author’s note: this in no way tries to represent korean universities’ last semester since i wrote it based on my own alma mater. the whole thing actually started because Johnny said Mark plays the guitar shirtless in the dorms

This is dedicated to @restlessmaknae because I thought a college au with a 99-liner would be quite fitting today. Congratulations on officially graduating! <3

Mark Lee was a friend of a friend.

Sure, you had seen him around before. You had known of him just like anyone else who wasn’t living under a rock during their college years since he was not only a player of the university’s basketball team (Go Eagles, the crowd would cheer enthusiastically) but he was also part of Johnny’s crew which meant he was at every social get-together this campus had seen.

So yeah, you had probably run into him at some party, maybe even clinked your shot glass to his once without caring too much about who sat at the table, maybe bumped into him on the corridor of the apartment complex close to college where most of the residents were students you knew hence where half of the house parties you had attended had taken place. You had heard that he was a funny drunk, that he had the most random philosophical questions at 2AM in the morning, that his history with eggs had gone deep (whatever that meant, you didn’t dare to ask) but most of all, that he was overall a nice guy. Nobody had ever breathed a bad word about Mark Lee, so that was the only reason why you were contemplating on agreeing to this ridiculous idea despite not even knowing the guy.

“Come on, it’s not like you have to move in with him until you go to retirement. You need a place to stay and he needs a new flatmate to share the costs with. I’m pretty sure he would be down for a short-term stay too,” Johnny pushed the plate of snacks towards you as if he told you to stop moping and just take this opportunity that had presented itself in front of you.

“And you’re not saying that only because you feel bad for ditching him for your girlfriend?” you raised a brow challengingly which earned you a snicker from said girl.

You and Sohyun had shared a few classes and became quick friends despite her being a year above. It was through her that you had gotten to know Johnny and his broad friend group at all. The couple decided to move together now that Sohyun was about to start her masters and that left Johnny’s old flatmate alone.

“Well, it’s not me crying over my French fries in a diner because I have a shitty landlord kicking me out, am I?” Johnny retorted and you knew he was right.

You needed a solution and you needed it quickly because your landlord apparently got the offer of the century and would sell his apartment to some big corporation to build an office there. You got exactly two weeks to move out and you had already spent one panicking. At this point you really just needed a place to stay until you figured your shit out and found a proper place to live because the new semester was coming up quickly.

“I hate it when you’re right,” you muttered under your breath, sipping on your shake with a resigned sigh.

“Then you must hate me a lot. Don’t worry, Mark is a great flatmate. Just don’t ask him to cook for you because he’ll end up burning the kitchen down or poisoning you,” Johnny shrugged and it made you chuckle until you realized that you were the only one laughing. It must have been a joke… right?

Or maybe not, because the moment you stepped into the flat for the first time, you could already smell something burning. Luckily, there was no smoke or any other worrying factor but still, you froze out in the hallway, toeing off your shoes tentatively.

“Hello?” you questioned in a small, uncertain voice while pulling your suitcase after you.

Mark Lee apparently agreed to you moving in to his empty room without even meeting you before because to quote Johnny ‘yeah, he was cool with it’ which was crazy to you but maybe it was just you, overthinking everything and being paranoid about sleeping under the same roof as people who could turn out to be serial killers. Okay, not to be so drastic but still. You are moving in with a stranger though, so maybe you’re just as crazy.

“Hey!” A boy, familiar enough but not quite, walks out of what you assume is the kitchen with a plate and a huge grin plastered on his face as if he didn’t wear his tee inside out and had bed hair while doing so. His round glasses sat on his nose a bit lopsided but it only added to his casual home-y look.

“Toasts?” he offered the content of the plate in hands and ah, so it was the smell, you note, glancing at the black spots on the bread.

“Uhm, no, thanks,” you mumbled slowly, not wanting to offend him by rejecting his kindness right off the bat but you also tried to keep yourself to Johnny’s advice which for once didn’t seem unfounded. Who let this guy into the kitchen when he could burn even his toast?

“Wise choice, man, I’m not even sure this is good for my health to be fair,” Mark Lee giggled, honest to god giggled, with a boyish smile stretching across his face and bit into the toast anyways before he showed you to your room, mouth half-full with bread.

He didn’t ask dozens of questions like why you were looking for a room, how long you were planning on staying, about your habits like the owners of all the other places you had checked out had done, instead he kept apologizing about the state of the room because he hadn’t really cleaned it since Johnny had left. He even helped you carry one of the suitcases after he put down the rest of his burnt breakfast. He told you about the neighbours (like the scary girl with the barking dog across the corridor and the Chinese students right next door) and house rules about the apartment like the recycling principles and how they had this system with Johnny about taking out the rubbish.

“Not that I expect you to adapt to everything I used to do with Johnny, just you know it seems fair,” he quickly explained, looking a bit anxious about this whole rules thing until you told him that it was okay, he should have continued living how he had done before and you would go along with it. You didn’t want him to make exceptions because you weren’t friends or just because you were a girl. You believed in equality, so you could take out the rubbish just as much as he could clean the bathroom after himself. Mark chuckled at that and nodded with a wide smile before remembering his poor coffee that must have gone cold on the kitchen counter. You told him you would be okay alone, packing out, and you would look for him if you had questions. The boy who had previously said that he was cool with you moving in seemed way too relieved hearing that, so maybe you weren’t the only one worrying after all. It started off well though.

Maybe it was because you had never had close guy friends before – since you only tended to befriend guys through your friends already – but living with Mark was a much simpler affair than what you had thought. You had all these crazy what ifs about boy and girl cohabitation and the awkwardness of it but the first time the boy saw you in your shorts and Harry Potter tee you used as a PJ he was like yo dude, which house would you be in? I’m a Hufflepuff. So maybe it was rather just his personality, making everything nice and casual, so all your previous stereotypical fears about living with a guy had disappeared once you realized your flatmate straight out dude-zoned you.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mark," Mina laughed when you met for the first time since your move in with the boy. She had known him because they had shared a few classes and because she had to interview him after last season's winning match for the university journal. “He is practically friends with everyone.”

And he really was. The basketball team was one thing but you once went to the corner coffee shop together on your way to the campus and he was on first name basis with the baristas then you ran into some upperclassmen who were clearly fond of the boy and he had mentioned so many names and programmes (dinner with Jungwoo on Friday, Ten needs him for something on Saturday then helping Jisung with an assignment on Sunday and so on) only a few days into you living together that you wouldn’t have been surprised if he knew the whole university. He seemed to have a social battery incapable of running out and seeing how easy-going he was with everyone, you were not really surprised when he asked about going to a party together only a week and half into living together. You were actually in the middle of doing your makeup when there was a knock on your door and inviting him in, Mark peaked in.

“Hey, are you coming to Johnny and Sohyun’s housewarming party?” he asked and when you told him that you were just getting ready actually, his whole face brightened like fairy lights during the festive season. “Cool, wanna go together?”

“Sure,” you nodded because you didn't see anything weird in it. Actually, it would have been even weirder if you went your separate ways when you lived at the same place and your friends knew.

Mark disappeared from your door then and came back not much later with a white tee with a funny print and a black sleeveless band shirt, holding them up for you to see.

“Which is better? I mean, I like the white one but I’m a bit afraid things will get out of hands tonight and I will spill something all over it, but it’s not that hot to–”

“Wear the black and put on a jacket,” you decided before Mark could have gotten into his long psychological rants about the subjectivity of body temperature. You honestly doubted he would have gotten cold wearing a sleeveless shirt at a party while based on what you had heard of him, you could indeed see him ruining his white clothes with something sticky and colorful. Mark didn't even question your choice though, just went with it with a thumbs up and you had to admit he looked good in that varsity jacket he had thrown over the tee.

There was no awkwardness in the air as the two of you were riding the subway, unlike what you expected, because Make made it easy to talk about even the ridiculous things. He told you funny stories about Johnny and in exchange you told him how you had gotten to know his girlfriend and once you two had gotten to the apartment, greeted by the hosts with wide smiles, you gave Sohyun the kitchen supplies kit you had brought (and Mark helped you carry with more enthusiasm you would have expected from someone who hated the gym) thinking of the girl’s shock at the lack of proper equipment at their new place. Sohyun beamed at you and nudged Johnny in the side who in exchange offered you two welcome drinks.

Afterwards, you parted ways with Mark, him being swept up by Jaehyun from the basketball team and you looking for your friends. It was like any other loud and fun party, you were pleasantly buzzed but not too much because you knew your limits when you ran into your flatmate later that night again. Or rather he bumped into you, literally, and over the course of the night you had to realize that Mark’s tipsy antics were indeed funny.

“And then… then d’you know what Jeno said?” he tripped over his own words so immersed in the story half of which you didn’t even catch while trying to help him keep his balance. Gosh, being an athlete wasn’t he supposed to hold his liquor better? Or maybe he did, it was just that everyone seemed to push drinks into his hands and he was too nice to reject them.

“I don’t know. What did he say?” you questioned, partly actually curious about the end of the story and partly just to not ruin the mood for the boy. But Mark’s reaction, all wide eyed and genuine, made you chuckle.

“Huh, dunno that’s why I asked you,” he blurted out, looking honestly confused while you not only had no idea what Jeno had said but you didn’t even know who he was.

“Okay, buddy, it’s time to get you home,” you told him and felt like the responsible friend when you had to convince him by promising to buy ice cream because he got all pouty and whiny about wanting to stay because he had so much fun. But you had seen Johnny carry him home before, so you took upon this flatmate duty and left together with him before Mark could have burnt himself (or set something on fire) with the flaming shot he saw Ten making in the kitchen. By the time you made it to the bus stop, Mark stopped whining. Instead he asked you why Johnny didn’t come and you had to remind him that they weren’t living together anymore.

“Oh, right,” Mark mumbled, dozing off on your shoulder as soon as you found a seat on the bus. He looked so cute and peaceful you felt almost bad for waking him up when you got near your neighborhood.

You helped him stumble into his room, preparing painkillers and water for him, helping him take off the jacket he was ready to sleep in before leaving him in his room. You just got out of the shower, ready for bed when you saw Johnny’s text, thanking you for taking care of Mark. The elder might have acted all cool and casual but you got to know pretty fast that he basically looked at the boy as his baby brother, so no wonder he was worried. But lucky for him, you believed it was only human decency to make sure your flatmate got home safely.

Mark though seemed awfully embarrassed by his actions the next day, promising that he wasn’t always like this and swearing he could actually take care of himself. He also insisted he would treat you to something as a thank you and even though you kept saying it was nothing, who were you to say no to free food?

Weeks passed and you eased into this comfortable situation so well that you stopped looking for other apartments. For one, you didn't really have time besides your studies and internship to stress over something like housing and Johnny was right: Mark was a good flatmate and you got along. Other than having questionable attempts in the kitchen, letting his sweaty stuff go for too long sometimes before doing the laundry and occasionally leaving his stuff wherever, you had no complaints. Being seniors and having other things to do (mainly basketball for him and work for you), you didn't interact more than necessary but didn't awkwardly avoid each other either when you ran into each other in the common areas. Instead you used those chances to catch up.

Since Mark was a creative writing major with a music minor and had been in his very last semester the same as you, you both complained about how many assignments they had made you do. If you had to write another English essay about the difference between the USA's and UK’s political system apart from working on your thesis, you would surely throw a fit. But it’s not like you had a choice, so you wanted to start off your morning with something warm to keep you awake through it. However, you didn’t calculate with Mark being in the kitchen, trying to cook. Emphasis on trying because whatever he was making, it didn’t look half decent.

“What’s this supposed to be?” you found yourself asking after setting up the machine and seeing the egg white smeared in the pan, its edges were already burnt while the middle was watery. Mark in his oversized white tee, face still wrinkled by the pillow, sleep in his eyes, turned to you, confused.

“Sunny side up,” he claimed but even his voice had some uncertainty.

“Nah, that’s not it. That’s disrespect for sunny side ups,” you remarked with a smile hiding in the corner of your mouth and crunching down to find another clean pan and some eggs to demonstrate how it should be done. “I don’t know how you managed to make it stick there but you need to add a bit of oil first. Then wait until the oil gets warm but not too hot, so keep the heat low, and then you can put the egg there. When breaking the egg, be careful not to hurt the yellow part. Like this, see? Then you just wait until the white is set.”

Mark looked at you after your totally normal looking sunny side up as if you were a Michelin star restaurant chef and the sparkles in his eyes and his enthusiasm to try it himself were both endearing. Somehow he still managed to mess up his first two attempts but his third was definitely decent at which he got so proud he snapped a picture for his mother.

“You know if you wanna try making new things in the kitchen, you could just let me know and I’d gladly help. I like cooking, so it’s no bother,” you told him while you finished the eggs as your breakfast (Mark insisting that you should only eat the ‘pretty’ ones). Mark sheepishly agreed and kitchen adventures became the first official flatmate thing you share.

The next thing was the movie nights.

It turned out neither of you went home for the autumn break to be able to work on your thesis properly and Mark had basketball practice too but before you could go crazy because of the amount of academic articles you had to read, you needed some time to forget about schoolwork. The boy must have felt similarly because one night, tired already, he asked if you wanted to watch something and that something ended up being the one of the Spider-man franchise installments at which Mark got so emotional he had to sniffle into a tissue.

"It's just so unfair. Why do good, innocent people have to suffer?" he asked you as if you could have ever answered such a philosophical question. Instead, you just offered him some leftover popcorn and Mark seemed relieved enough (or maybe it was his unstable emotional state) to take it with a small, embarrassed smile. It was actually cute that he didn't try to put on a front, acting all cool and manly as if he wasn't touched (heartbroken) by the scene, you liked that he was so open and sincere. Maybe that was why anxiety wasn't eating you up when you felt tearing up a bit later too. You just knew Mark wouldn't tease you with it, you could really be yourself around him. Just as he was his usual self with out of blue thoughts voiced out when the credits finally rolled.

"If you could have a superpower what kind would you want and how would you use it?" he blurted out and it was such a Mark-like question, random and funny, but deep if you really thought about it. So you gave it a thought now because you never really wondered before. You ended up saying something that hopefully would help with your constant overthinking.

"It would be nice to have a hunch whether I would regret a decision I'm about to make. So maybe a 6th sense about the future. What about you?"

"Oh man, I like that one! It's cool!" The boy shot a smile at you when you turned to him, clearly glad that you indulged him with a proper answer. "If I were to have a super power, I would want to see through walls and other objects. It could come in handy to avoid awkward situations or possibly dangerous situations. I mean my eyesight is pretty bad, it would definitely help though," he chuckled and you joined in but mostly because his laugh was so addictive.

After that you kept asking each other if the other wanted to join for a movie whenever one of you was free and somehow you ended up watching either Marvel movies or those thought-provoking drama ones over the weeks.

To be fair, Johnny warned you. You just thought he was joking, just to annoy you. Apparently no, because Mark Lee was indeed playing the guitar shirtless in your living room.

“Sometimes he picks up his guitar and just plays it half-naked,” Johnny had said once and since it had already been weeks since you had shared a living space with Mark without seeing him like that, you had waved it off as a silly joke but Mark just had to prove you wrong.

He looked like he just woken up, his hair was still like a bird's nest and he only had sweatpants on. He had his guitar on his lap and his phone in front of him on the coffee table as he was humming along while playing. He definitely didn't do it on purpose, he probably didn't expect you to be back from your morning lecture so quickly but it was canceled last-minute, so you had to go back if you didn't want to spend hours in the library until your next class.

So there you were, back in the apartment, standing awkwardly in the hallway before reminding yourself to snap out of it. Staring at him was just so rude and so shallow, not to mention it wasn't like you hadn't seen guys shirtless before, it was just surprising because you had only seen him stroll around the apartment in oversized shirts and hoodies. No big deal, really, so you shouldn't have turned it into one.

"Hey," you cleared your throat, getting the boy's attention. "Class got canceled, so I made my return trip worth it," you said, putting down a cup of his to-go coffee from your favorite store on the campus.

"Oh, hey, uhm... thanks," Mark mumbled, visibly flustered, pulling the guitar to his chest as if it could have hidden him, or well, his embarrassment.

It didn't work but you didn't want to make him more uncomfortable, so you just shrugged, telling him that it was no problem and turned your back on him to go back to your room. Later, when you came out again, Mark was already decently dressed, supposedly going out later since he wore nice jeans and a button up over a simple tee. You didn't want to make the atmosphere awkward, not when you felt comfortable around each other in a way you wouldn't have expected from just any flatmate.

"I didn't see you play the guitar before," you commented, curious as you lifted the tea pot and refilled your mug. Sure you heard guitar playing since living together it was inevitable but you knew for a fact that Dejun from next door also played it, so you couldn’t be sure who it came from.

"Ah yeah, I got rusty lately, I need to get back into it. I can play a bit of piano too but I'm better with guitar," the boy admitted sheepishly and honestly, your not musically talented person was already impressed he could play one instrument. So since Mark seemed happy to talk about it, you inquired whether he was practicing for a class or it was just something he wanted to learn and the boy answered with so much enthusiasm! Oh gosh, he was all big movements with his arms, his face expressive as he was talking about this one prof causing most of his sleepless nights and time flew so fast, you only realized you you had to go to uni when your phone buzzed in your pocket, the calendar notification clear over your lock screen.

After that ‘incident’ you didn't catch Mark shirtless much more, mostly because he seemed slightly embarrassed and not because you had any problem with it. It was his home after all, he should have been comfortable, though now that the colder weather creeped in, it probably didn't matter that much either. But now that he knew that you didn't mind his impromptu guitar sessions, sometimes he knocked on your door just to show you something or ask your opinion about a melody he just came up with. You knew nothing about music, so you doubted you were any help but he came to you anyway and you were happy to listen.

You shouldn't have listened to him, however, when he told you beer pong against (samurai) Yuta and (vampire) Jaehyun would be fun at the Halloween party. You didn’t even know why you let him convince you to play with him (okay, it was his pout’s doing) but you were losing at an embarrassingly quick rate. Not only did you have shitty aiming skills to begin with, it didn't help that (Detective Conan) Mark who was supposed to be a good basketball player became a giggly mess with worse and worse aim with every cup of beer you two had to drink.

You had experienced it last time as well but he became very clingy when drunk, so you weren’t exactly surprised how he draped himself over your back, chin on your shoulder just to be able to watch the game in a more comfy position, only to whine at every hit his friends had made. You felt a bit buzzed from the cheap beer by the time Jaehyun and Yuta finished off all of your cups but you weren’t competitive enough to get frustrated over losing a game like this, not even if the guys teased you that they barely got anything to drink with how many shoots you and Mark missed. Your flatmate whined, high-pitched, and you had to admit it was cute how his hyungs babied him even if it was just a ruffle of hair. Small affections like this seemed to make Mark seek more warmth and comfort, cuddling on the couch with his friends just as you excused yourself to find your own friends.

“Hey, girl, where have you been?” Jungeun pulled you into a hug immediately, cheery, loud enough to hear above the music.

“Sorry, I’ve been swept by Mark’s friends, playing beer pong,” you explained, not paying attention to the knowing look the blonde girl exchanged with Jinsook next to her.

“I thought you don’t like beer pong.”

“I don’t, it’s a silly drinking game,” you shook your head but you had to admit, you had fun with the boys. Not necessarily because of the game itself or the alcohol but their company was amusing enough to make up for your dislike towards the silly rules. So maybe Mark was right and you had a good time but before your friends could have interrogated you more about it, you bombarded them with questions and the conversation shifted towards this flirty guy at Jungeun’s dance class and Jinsook’s troubles with her terrible thesis advisor.

After a dozen songs you danced to with the girls and your throat started hurting from trying to speak over the music, it was late enough for you to call it a day and you said bye to the girls. When you checked your phone, you found a bunch of random texts with million typos from Mark and a video of him saying sorry to a door frame after bumping into it as courtesy of Johnny. You laughed hard even though it wasn’t that funny and you decided to look for Mark, but in the end it was him finding you.

“Look, look, look, my tongue turned blue,” the boy stuck his indeed discolored tongue out like a child first licking a colorful lollipop and you raised a brow at him, suspicious.

“What are you drinking?” you pointed at the cup in his hands that held a dark drink and Mark’s smile was innocent as he furrowed his brows, trying to remember.

“I dunno. Hyuck gave it to me saying that it’s blueberry juice.”

Gosh, no wonder his friends liked to tease him so much, he was just so gullible he made it easy for them.

“It's definitely not blueberry juice, buddy,” you snorted, amused because Mark with his tongue poking out, eyes wide full of wonder and dreamy smile was rather cute. Or maybe it was just tipsy you’s thinking.

“Don't call me that,” the boy snapped but it wasn’t harsh at all. Instead, there it was again, his pout and big doe eyes looking at you until you didn’t give in. You sighed quietly because you really couldn’t be mad at him, his actions were way too endearing.

“Okay, Mark, what about heading home?” No response. You tried again. “Markie…”

Mark’s face lit up like Christmas lights, his smile splitting his face in too as he nodded, following you outside of the building. He was telling you a story about the basketball tournaments with much enthusiasm but the moment he spotted a stranger walking their dog, he got super distracted and by the time you got on the bus he was insisting to call his friend Chenle and ask about Daegal. You didn’t know the people in question but they probably wouldn’t have appreciated a call at 3AM, so you bribed Mark into calling them later with the promise of scrambled eggs and soup in the morning. Tiredness must have suddenly hit around that point because you were in the middle of reminding Mark about the trash he needed to take out when the next thing you knew was his head over your shoulder, his light snoring making you smile.

You let the boy sleep one stop more than you should have, so you got off the bus a bit late and had to walk back to your apartment complex. Mark didn’t seem to mind though as he suddenly had enough energy to play basketball.

“Pleeeease, just 5 minutes,” he was there again with those pleading eyes and gosh, you should have really learned to say no to him but five minutes wouldn’t hurt, he was about to get tired soon anyway.

“Fine, 5 minutes. But then I’m leaving you here,” you warned him before following him to the public basketball field you walked past on your way.

Sitting on the bench by the side you realized that you haven’t seen Mark play before despite living together for two months because it never occurred to you to visit his matches. You usually knew when they were because he usually told you when he would be back late. So you knew close to nothing about the sport, you found it impressive that he didn’t trip on his own foot this time. Not to mention, it was pretty cute that he kept checking if you were still there, paying attention. No wonder he had to act extra when you let him know that he only had 30 seconds left.

“This is for you, flatmate!” Mark yelled and at his next shoot he totally missed the basket and hit the backboard instead. You couldn't help but chuckle because he had been so confident and now he was pouting. On the way back to the apartment he kept telling you that he was better when he was sober and you believed him since you had no reason not to.

You felt the boy’s eyes on you while you juggled your keys out of your purse and opened the door for you, not moving until you pulled him inside.

“Cuute~” he cooed at you as he tugged on your Hufflepuff scarf and suddenly, you didn’t know what to say but apparently Mark didn’t expect you too because he had already turned his back to you, walking towards his room.

“Don’t get on your bed like that, you have beer stains on your shirt!” you called after him, not sure if he took it seriously before shutting yourself in your room with a sigh. Yet, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

Mark might have been childish and reckless when he drank more than he should have but overall, he was a pretty dependable guy. He never forgot when it was his turn to get the groceries or clean. He was considerate of your sleep schedule even if his was crazy sometimes. He got you your favorite green tea even if he hated it and complained about it smelling like grass. Not to mention, he was there for you when you fell sick at the worst possible time. Two weeks until your thesis deadline and fever decided to hit then. You were a shivering, aching mess, barely having enough energy to go out to the bathroom and Mark, the sweetheart he was, made sure to refill your tea and water mugs in the room, setting up the humidifier in the morning and he even offered to make you some easily digestible food.

“Please, don’t burn the kitchen down,” you pleaded, tired but with a weak smile.

“It’s just soup,” Mark huffed out, taking no offense as he disappeared off to cook. While he was away, you must have dozed off because he was back way too quick and the air was already filled with delicious smells.

“Eat up. I promise you’ll feel better if you don’t sleep on an empty stomach,” Mark spoke up, patiently waiting for you to sit up before giving you the tray with the bowl and a spoon. You tentatively ate a spoonful of the hot soup, painfully aware of the boy’s eyes on you. When you gulped and reached for another spoonful, Mark leaned closer, his doe eyes wide while watching your expression. “Is it good?”

He sounded nervous and you felt like chuckling..

“So good,” you admitted, letting the soup’s warmth spread all over.

“Thank god, I followed Jaemin’s foolproof recipe step-by-step,” Mark let out a relieved sigh and probably because you were sleep-deprived, tired and sensitive, you felt tearing up. Last night when you struggled through hours alone, not wanting to wake him, you felt really weak and alone but now there he was, caring for you. You didn’t expect him to, he offered willingly and it made you feel touched.

You ate the soup diligently and followed Mark’s advice on trying to get some actual sleep afterwards. Your limbs and head still hurt, so it wasn’t easy but you didn’t wake up shaking and shivering this time. Your fever went down or so it seemed but you felt sticky and gross all over, so you took a shower and tried to make yourself look presentable even if Mark had seen you much worse before knocking on his door.

“Hey.” His smile was so soft, so caring as he turned to you right away. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” you shot him a shy, grateful smile. “I just wanted to thank you and ask if we have more of that soup.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll bring some–” Mark stumbled onto his feet no matter how much you protested that you could do it on your own if he just told you where he put it.

You followed him to the kitchen despite his objections and there, you suddenly understood why he didn’t want you there. The kitchen counter was a mess, the sink had a cooking pot with burnt marks on the bottom in it

“I didn’t want to wake you up by cleaning up,” the boy scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and even though you normally disliked messes like this, it was different. He was considerate and sweet, trying his best instead of ordering in even if cooking wasn’t his forte, you appreciated it a lot.

“It’s okay,” you smiled and heated up some more of the soup before settling by the dining table with two blankets over your shoulders while Mark put the kitchen back into its original shape. You almost finished with your bowl, swallowing down each tasty bit of it by the time he sat across you, a smile tugging on his mouth.

“So cute,” he blurted out when he saw you all bundled up and his words could have been teasing yet they sounded fonder than anything else. If you felt heat rising up in your cheeks, you blamed it on the fever.

“Not cute, I’m still sick,” you whined but you could hardly blame the way your heart skipped a beat on your sickness when Mark reached over the table to put his hand over your forehead in order to check your fever. Maybe you should have got that checked out though, just in case.

After recovering, you spent the following two weeks worrying about every single thing in your thesis – like what if someone will excuse you of plagiarism because of a weirdly worded phrase, what if the formatting is totally off and you will end up losing way too many points or what if the judge will simply dislike your topic and evaluate it negatively? – but once you handed it in, there was no way back and you refused to even think about it until you had the results. Mark finished up pretty last minute (but with two majors, it was still impressive that he didn’t faint out of fatigue at one point) but once both of you had this rock off your chests, you celebrated with ice cream. Eating it out of the tub on the living room couch made you nostalgic.

“Do you ever wonder if things will change after graduation? Like you know, the big adult life… Sometimes it just scares me. I still feel like a kid not knowing a thing,” you spoke up, not ashamed to talk about such things in front of Mark. You knew he would have never judged you for thinking in a certain way.

“Really? But you look… so well put together, like ,you know, someone who has their shit together, knows what they want and stuff,” the boy gaped at you, surprised at which you let out a small, embarrassed sound which made him continue. “But yeah, I get that, man. Like I might pay for my own stuff but still. I don’t want to grow up yet.”

Being young adults in your early twenties there were so many expectations thrown at you by family, friends and society, it was almost impossible to meet them all. It was nice that someone else understood it, your concerns but not in the YOLO kind of way but he actually took it seriously. He encouraged you when you told him about your worries about regretting your choice of major later on, and how you felt about the job market. In exchange, he told you how afraid he was drifting apart with his friends after college won’t give them a reason to meet up frequently. Or that he would miss playing basketball once he wouldn’t be part of the team.

“Maybe that’s why I’m so nervous about the game on Friday. Honestly, I don’t even care if we win or lose, I just want to give it my all and have fun. It will be my last time with the whole team after all,” he confessed, mixing the melted ice cream with his spoon.

You were sure nobody would stop him from going back to practices since all of the guys seem to adore him. You had seen that buff guy, Jeno, get flustered when Mark had bought him pain relief patches. Or how that tall freshman, Sungchan, went all ‘hyung, you didn’t have to’ when Mark treated him to a meal in-between classes. Mark really cared so much about the people around him and he probably didn’t even notice but you were sure everyone would miss his presence. You sure would. So you told him all that, determined to reassure the boy but you just ended up getting flustered yourself as you watched his ears burn red.

“Khm… actually I wanted to ask you if you would like to come to the game? You know, to show you that I can actually play,” Mark laughed awkwardly and even though you had never really been the sports kind of person, after that drunken mishap of his on Halloween you were actually curious about how he was on the field. Plus you would have never said no to an invitation to the season’s last game which was so important for him.

“Sure. Should I do anything special? You know those war marks on cheeks or something like that? I don’t know how basketball games work around here and I don’t think I have anything in the uni’s colors,” you admitted and you were ready to ask Yuqi what she usually wore in case Mark wasn’t helpful and said whatever or ‘you don’t have’ but he did none of that.

“I mean, you can wear my extra jersey,” he blurted out the offer and even though it was supposed to be nonchalant based on his casual tone, the way he avoided your eyes made it endearing.

“Okay,” you answered softly and Mark’s eyes widened as he looked up at you in disbelief.

“Okay?? I mean, yeah, okay, cool,” he muttered, stuffing his face with more melted ice cream and you could barely suppress your smile, heart beating as if you just ran after the bus.

You weren't exactly sure when this thing between the two of you started shifting. Or maybe it was just your perspective but lately you had been catching yourself noticing things about Mark you haven’t before. Like those adorable moles on his cheek and neck, the way he squinted sometimes even with his glasses on, that crooked smile of his when he found something amusing or that he always wore hoodies so big, the sleeves were too long even for him. You got fond of ridiculously mundane things like him slipping into English mid-sentence, slapping people around him when he laughed so hard or that he just couldn’t shut up during movies. The number of things he did that made your heart flutter became alarmingly high as well when he started covering you with blankets or his sweaters during movie nights, letting you fall asleep on his shoulder in the living room and instead of waking you up, he suffered a neck pain the next day without complaint or singing you songs as lullaby when you couldn’t sleep. Add giving you his freshly washed jersey to the list as well.

Yuqi was the first one to point it out as you were getting ready for the basketball match. She helped you style the jersey, tucking it inside black jeans and making a high ponytail out of your hair to show off the Mark 02 written on the back.

“Do you like him?” The girl asked, straightforward as always and you blamed the yelp you let out on a particularly harsh movement of the hair brush.

“I… is it that obvious?” you asked, bashful, because you felt like it was useless to deny in front of Yuqi. She snorted, raising an eyebrow before grabbing an eyeliner off the table, ready to attack you.

“You do realize only you find even his dumb jokes funny, right?”

“What, why? He’s hilarious!” you protested, really thinking so, and the girl laughed as if she just proved a point.

“Don’t worry, it’s cute,” she reassured you and before you could have asked what was so cute, your crush? she ordered you to close your eyes and let her work her magic.

So you did, feeling blush creeping on your cheeks under the thin layer of foundation she applied. Smokey eye shadow, pink lip gloss and lilac-gold lines over your cheeks later, Yuqi said you looked so good Mark would be stupid to not feel lucky. Honestly, you weren’t so sure about that since you knew Mark didn’t care about looks that much and actually it wasn’t your appearance that made you feel uncertain around him. It’s just… he was so casual and friendly with everyone, you weren’t sure whether he would have acted like this around every girl he ended up living with or you were a tiny bit special and you didn’t want things to become awkward between you two if you misread the signs and he didn’t feel the same. It could have made living together very uncomfortable.

An hour later you arrived at the basketball field of the campus and feeling a little out of place, you just followed Yuqi and joined some other friends in the standee area. You tried not to feel all too conscious of the eyes on you, or rather on the shirt you wore, and just hollered when the Eagles made their way onto the field and the game was starting.

It was crazy, the buzzing adrenaline of everyone around you, the way people grunted together in disappointment or cheered in unison when a team scored a point. You still didn’t really get the rules or why certain shoots meant more points than others but you had fun. And of course, you couldn’t stop looking for Mark among all the players, being impressed by how fast he moved and how precise his shots were. He was indeed better than that one time you saw him play drunk. You got so invested that you couldn’t stop screaming, encouraging the boys towards the end of the game. You jumped into Yuqi’s arms, hugging her for dear life when Chenle scored the winning goal, everyone attacking the freshman (with hugs and love) on the field.

The players were quickly ushered to the changing room, so you had no chance to talk with Mark but since basically everyone from your university in the audience ended up at Jaehyun’s for the after party, you believed you had a good chance to do so there. But before you bumped into Mark, you managed to run into Ten instead. The Thai guy was one of Johnny's best friends and then he was giving you such a knowing look that you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under his gaze.

“Sooo did Mark finally tell you?” he raised a brow, sipping on his suspiciously orange-looking drink as he pointed at your outfit.

“Uhm, tell me what?” you muttered, dumbfounded and Ten just laughed, waving it off.

“Nothing then. Have fun!” he winked and walked away with such a shit-eating grin that left you even more confused. He was barely out of sight when Mark showed up by your side.

“What did Ten hyung want?” he asked, visibly concerned, which was the last thing you wanted him to do. He should have been happy, celebrating, because from what you had seen he gave his all for his last match with this team just like how he wanted to do.

“I don’t even know to be honest,” you let out a laugh, turning towards the boy by your side and you took in his look with the ripped jeans and the turtleneck. Gosh, even his hair was fluffy because he must have washed it after the match. It was a good look on him, soft but mature. Mark was looking at you with similar awe in his eyes, a smile tugging on his mouth.

“You really came.”

“I told you I would,” you reminded him with a kind smile. Then you remembered that you wanted him to know that you appreciated the match too and that you found his basketball skills impressive, so you added: “You were really good back there.”

“Thanks,” he smiled sheepishly and cleared his throat. “You look pretty. I mean… you look pretty in general, it’s just… you look different.”

It wasn’t like you never had received a compliment from the boy because he had this habit of calling every living and breathing creature cute but it was different, you could tell he didn’t mean to play it off coolly either.

“Thanks, it’s all Yuqi’s doing,” you admitted with a chuckle, fighting the heat in your cheeks before Mark asked if you wanted to dance maybe. You didn’t even hesitate before agreeing and followed him to the dance floor, not caring about the mainstream music or the stares you two got, not when Mark giggled into your ear when he almost tripped in his own foot because someone elbowed him in the side.

Mark and you spent almost the entire party together after that, just dancing and talking out on the balcony with your drinks in hand, or playing classic card games with friends. By the time the party died down and it was time to leave, both of you were still pretty much sober, so the walk back home promised less chaos than the ones before.

It was a chilly December night, big coats, scarves and beanies on both of you but you were still cold, damn those gloves you forgot to put on! You blew warm air onto your palms, rubbing them together to keep them warmer and the movement caught Mark’s attention. He didn’t wear gloves either but he didn’t even hesitate reaching for your hand and still holding it, shoving it inside his puffy coat’s pocket together with his.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, breath caught in your throat, heart overworking.

Hand holding or not, you decided it wasn't the right time to tell Mark how you felt, this was no time for extra pressure. You both still had final exams to prepare for and you knew he would go home for the holidays. You could tell him after that.

Before Mark left for the winter break, you made him his favorite meal and gave him the personalized guitar pick with his name and basketball jersey number on it as a Christmas gift. It was barely anything yet he thanked you dozens of times and hugged you as if he didn't want to let go.

You visited home for the festive days too but because of your internship you were back in the capital in no time. Mark stayed home longer, texting you throughout the days about the most random things (how his mom made him eat so much, his brother’s nagging or the shows he watched with his dad) but the apartment was so empty without him. One day you ended up inviting Sohyun over for lunch and as a package deal, Johnny came, too. It turned out very unfortunate for you because out of all the people out there, he was the one person you couldn’t fool when he pointed at what you wore.

“Isn’t that Mark’s plaid shirt?” his lips curled upwards as he asked, mouth in an annoyingly knowing smirk.

You could have said that it got mixed during laundry but that still wouldn’t have explained why you actually wore it when it was a bit big on your frame. Honestly, you just got so used to Mark covering you with his clothes, it felt almost natural picking it up from the couch where he had left it and putting it on when you got cold earlier.

“And aren’t you hungry? Then stop asking unnecessary questions,” you snickered which made your friends laugh and tease but you knew they didn’t mean anything bad about it. They cooed when you got a text from Mark that made you all smiley. Johnny even prided himself in being a great matchmaker which was a pretty far stretch but you just rolled your eyes at his antics. Maybe you wished he was right, too.

It was a few days into January when Mark got back. There were snowflakes in parts of his hair that weren't under his beanie but his smile was warm as he complained about the cold. You offered to heat some dinner up for him while he unpacked and could barely contain the feelings spreading all over you as he claimed that 'you are the best'. So you put some pasta you made earlier into the microwave and set the table, waiting for Mark. When he got back to the kitchen, he told you all about his holiday and his ride back over his dinner as if he hadn’t texted every hour but you appreciated it, so in exchange you told him about your days and how the internship place offered you a long-term position. Things had started falling into place despite the uncertainties and doubts you still had but it was natural, you were still young, you didn’t have to have it all figured out.

After dinner, you were about to suggest a movie but Mark beat you to it.

“I know it’s late, but actually I brought you a present,” he spoke up suddenly, sounding nervous as he tilted his head towards his room. It already made your heart beat like a drum.

“Oh come on, you didn’t have to just because I–” you protested but still followed the boy into his room.

“I wanted to,” Mark interrupted you gently and handed over a clumsily home-wrapped (so cute!) box he pulled out of his suitcase. You took it curiously and started unwrapping it carefully. The box revealed your favourite brand of chocolate and an old-fashioned cassette with your name written on it with a marker. You suddenly remembered watching an old movie from the 90s when you had told Mark how lovely you found the idea of mixtapes on cassettes because of the effort put into them, but you didn’t think he would remember that.

“I don't even have a cassette player,” you said dumbly, not knowing how to react suddenly and at that Mark let out an awkward little chuckle.

“Oh right, I was supposed to share the Soundcloud link with you,” he realized and after a few clicks on his phone you felt yours buzz in your pocket. “You told me you like to listen to me singing, so I thought I could record these for you to listen to if you, you know, wanna hear some but I can’t be there.”

His explanation was just so him, so lovely, just as the caption of the track he shared with you – songs that remind me of you. You might have been oblivious and uncertain when it came to Mark Lee, everyone’s best friend at college, but there was nothing platonic in the way he patted the bed beside him to get you to sit down and once you did, he put earbuds in for you to listen to the mix of English and Korean love songs he sang in his soft, airy voice. Your heart was struggling against your ribcage as he filled all your senses: his voice singing, his eyes on you, his warm closeness…

The playlist ended with an embarrassed giggle, so Mark-like it made you smile right away. You were glad he didn’t edit it out because it made it more real, more special because of how not staged it was. You wanted to say so much and ask even more but looking into the boy’s eyes, you suddenly couldn’t form any word. It felt like you were in a sweet little bubble in his room and for a moment you wondered whether you were dreaming, dreaming about Mark coming back home, to you, looking at you like that. But it wasn’t a dream.

“It’s… I love it, so much,” you pressed quietly but genuinely. You were afraid you would break this bubble if you said more, or if you spoke louder. You just wanted to stay there, so close your knees bumped into each other.

“I’m glad,” Mark said back in a hush, a chuckle hanging off his lips, words tasting delicate with anticipation.

There was serendipity in the silence that followed. It was in the way Mark’s doe eyes blinked slowly, the way you inhaled sharply or the way he tilted his head, leaning closer ever so slowly. Your eyes fluttered closed right before his lips touched yours for a chaste but heart-shaking moment. It was short but offered enough of a reassurance, just as much as his searching gaze when you opened your eyes slowly after he pulled back a bit.

“Mark…” you whispered, his name tasting like something sweet on your tongue and for a moment, the boy looked distracted. At your voice, he blinked.

“Hm?”

You looked deep into his warm brown eyes, serious before you let your lips curl up.

“No more dude-zoning, okay?” you asked, half-sincere, half-a-joke, and Mark laughed so hard, he almost fell over and out of the bed. It was the kind of sound you wanted to hear so much more often. Even more so, you wanted to make it happen: to make Mark happy.

“Okay,” he promised, breathless, and sealed it with another kiss on your lips, his hand finding rest over your nape. You smiled into it, content.

“Mom, come on, we will be late,” Mark whined as he tugged on his robe, squinting against the sunlight.

“Just one more. Stand closer,” the woman instructed and gestured for you to step closer to Mark and you giggled as you pressed up against your boyfriend’s side, a blushing creeping onto your cheeks even now at the public display of affection.

Neither of you with Mark were big fans of PDA, liking to keep your relationship mostly private save for hand holding whenever you had a chance to do so but your friends kept pushing you, teasing you, saying that they did not believe that ‘you finally came to your senses and got together’, their words not yours. Johnny definitely claimed credit as the main matchmaker but Yuqi kept arguing over it. You didn’t mind, it only showed that they cared and were supportive and only that mattered.

“Perfect!” Mark’s mother exclaimed with a proud smile as she looked down at the photo she just made. Her husband reminded her that all of you had to get back to the hall for the actual graduation ceremony before you would miss the point of it all but you couldn’t mind the woman’s enthusiasm at all as she pulled you into a half-hug as she showed you the picture. She had been the sweetest from the moment you were introduced as her son’s girlfriend. (‘Actually I had a feeling. He was glued to his phone all winter break,’ she shared with you with a smile that made you feel welcomed like a partner-in-crime.)

You waved at your own family who already took their seats and laughed at the tissues your mother prepared as your sister pointed out jokingly. Then suddenly you were surrounded by friends from your grade, excitement clear on all your faces.

“Let’s get it,” Mark hollered beside you as everyone was ushered into the big hall.

The graduation ceremony might have sounded boring but it was the end of an era and you were all so ready for the next one. You were a bit scared, yes, but that was okay, as long as you had good people around you nothing could go too wrong and looking around – at Guanheng and Dejun making funny faces for selfies, Wooyoung pulling on the tassel of Jungeun’s cap, Mina trying to shush everyone before the dean would do so and Mark staring back at you with a fond smile – you knew you were in good hands.

[expectingtofly]

finally free, they drive

2k

day 1 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: diners/roadtrip

Twenty-four years ago in Mankato, Minnesota, Dean killed a wendigo with a bottle of Jack and a lighter. He told Cas this, how the flames lit the inside of the cave and his dad had to drag him out because he suddenly couldn’t move, how he stayed silent for a week even though his dad begged him to speak.

Seventeen years ago, in Monte Vista, Colorado, Dean burned the bones of a malevolent spirit that sliced a gash through his chest before he could swing an iron crowbar through her foggy figure. As he and Cas passed by the cemetery where he and his dad had dug up her remains, he could almost picture himself standing between the tombstones, his dad tossing him the lighter. Do the honors.

In Evanston, Wyoming, he and Cas stopped to eat at a diner that looked vaguely familiar. As they sat down at a booth in the back, waitress handing them their menus, it hit him.

“Pretty sure Sam and I went through here before.” He couldn’t remember what they'd been hunting. “Years ago. After dad. You know. Passed.”

And Cas was silent a moment before replying, "I wish I’d known you then."

Then he declared he wanted the French onion soup from the specials of the day, like he hadn’t just spoken Dean's thoughts aloud in his uncanny way of knowing exactly what Dean wished for before Dean knew it himself.

Sometimes, while passing semi-trailer trucks on the freeway, when the setting sun glinted off the metal partition between west and east-headed traffic, he wondered what life would’ve been like if he knew Cas when he was twenty-six. When he was so lonely, his chest felt like a vise at night, and he slipped out of mildewed motel rooms to gasp in chilly night air. When he sought out crowded bars because accidental nudges and jostles were substitutes for caresses.

What might’ve changed if he'd known Cas when he was twenty-two, when Sam left for college and Dad left with a cutting, Don't look for me. If, confronted with an angel then, he would’ve been able to believe in good things, if he would've kissed him to not feel so alone.

The radio played Dolly Parton at a diner in Des Moines, a young couple sat at the counter, Cas stacked small containers of strawberry jelly and orange marmalade into a tower, and Dean imagined sitting across from him when he was nineteen. But then Cas looked up at him triumphantly over perfectly balanced preserves, and the what-if's dissolved in a growing warmth in his chest. Cas had been right after all. Good things did happen.

They drove without a destination now that they didn’t need one, changing course frequently, turning off exits to follow signs for roadside attractions, homestyle meals, and scenic overlooks.

Prairie and forest, coast and desert. He'd traveled these roads before, but he was paying attention now. Everything looked different with Cas sitting by his side, when every glance to his right revealed Cas already looking at him.

Re-heated diner leftovers and slices of pie for breakfast, crumbs on the bed, brown bags in the backseat, lunch breaks at rest stops, sitting on the hood to unwrap grease-stained burger wrappers, kept warm from the sun coming through the car’s windows.

Baby had been his home for years. He'd learned her nooks, her curves, how best to settle on the benchseat and tuck his jacket against the door to wake without a crick in his neck.

Moving into the bunker, he'd claimed a room, made a space for every item he owned: a hook for every weapon, a box for every photo, a hanger for every jacket. The concrete walls and sterile bathrooms meant order, control.

He used to be afraid that if he let one item fall out of place, he'd lose his grip on the delicate thread which held him together.

Crackling radio in Omaha, searching for a station. Cassette-tapes pulled out of a box that he hadn’t rifled through since a time when angels were still a myth, god didn’t exist, and death was always close, but not someone they knew by name. Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica. Then, out of Cas' pocket, his own “Top 13 Zepp Traxxs,” which he was surprised to learn Cas still kept, the words on the label faded.

“It was a gift,” Cas said, tucking the cassette into the deck and turning up the volume.

Busy diners where their food took ages to come to their table and Dean doodled on napkins to pass the time. Stuffed them into his pocket and forgot until he pulled them out while looking for change to pay for gas. A tiny Impala, a sun with dashes for rays, sigils, tiny flowers which Cas had added to the corners.

An argument on I-70 and sixty-two miles of tense silence. "If you don't speak to me, I can't understand," Cas said, voice quiet under the whir of tires on the road.

Dean changed lanes, watched a tarp flap over the bed of a pick-up truck. "I don't know how," he admitted.

Cas let out a breath that sounded like relief. "We'll learn."

He learned Cas liked brightly colored shirts labeled with the names of locations they visited, oversized because tight sleeves made him itch. He learned that the strangely named items on diner menus had backstories that owners behind counters were all too eager to share when Cas prompted them. He learned Cas hovered in doorways as if he was waiting to be invited inside, learned Cas knew every upbeat song playing over the radio in gas stations, had nightmares too, could stay silent for seventy miles then speak a thought aloud that left Dean stunned for seventy more.

He taught Cas how to pass the time on roads that stretched to the horizon. Name a movie for every letter of the alphabet. Name three items you'd take to a deserted island. Name everyone we've lost along the way—he didn't mean to begin talking about them, but they seemed closer than ever before on the open road, under a vast, cloudless sky. The wind whisked their names from their mouths, and Dean liked the idea of them still existing, here, around them.

A map open on his lap, Cas circled every town they stopped at, traced their route with a red pen. Folded and unfolded the page until the creases made the snaking lines nearly illegible. "I want to remember," he told Dean, and Dean traced the creases to feel their route under his finger. The steering wheel was warm under his palms, the diner floors sticky under his boots, the motel sheets stiff when he pulled them back from the headboard, and he told Cas, "Pinch me," in the dark of an eighty-dollar-a-night room. Cas touched his face and kissed him instead.

The rocky coast off of Oregon delighted Cas. He rolled up his pant legs, clutched Dean's hand as they walked unsteadily over the slippery rocks to step into the Pacific Ocean. The wind whipped his hair over his face and he pushed back the strands, grinning back at Dean. Sometimes at night, when Cas slept curled into him, Dean looked at the photo he'd taken of him and wished he had a place of their own to frame it.

Long phone calls to family and friends who told them to take their time, do not disturb signs hung on motel doorknobs, winding backroads and detours. He grew out his hair and told Cas he needed a cut. Cas twisted his fingers through the strands, and mused, "I like it." Dean kept it and noticed the strands curled at the ends.

A sign on the highway in Ohio read, "Hell is Real." He still had nightmares. As cornfields passed, Cas recounted seeing his soul for the first time, and sometimes Dean imagined he remembered the safety of Cas' wings as he pulled him out of the depths of Hades.

Cas got sick in Idaho, complained, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, "I told you that diner was not sanitary." Dean rubbed his back and told him he'd write a scathing review. In West Virginia, over a pile of spilled salt and stale fries that were probably nuked behind the counter, Cas told him he loved him. It wasn't for the first time, but his breath still caught in his throat.

They ate fried okra in Oklahoma City, beignets in New Orleans, and Dean requested Earth Angel on a jukebox in a vinyl and chrome diner in Wisconsin. Slid into the booth to press against Cas' side and watch him fill out postcards. Did you know dinosaurs once roamed where the Rockies now stand? Don't know when we'll be back. We bought new cassettes to add to the collection and I convinced Dean to let me choose the music. Still so much we haven't seen.

The magic fingers bed at the King's Court Motel cost four quarters for fifteen minutes—three more than when he was younger, he griped to Cas. The vibrating massage didn't seem quite as relaxing as he remembered, but maybe he was just used to more magical fingers—this he accompanied with an exaggerated wink which made Cas roll his eyes.

The Impala broke down on Route 66, and the asphalt radiated heat as he ducked under the hood. Cas hovered at his side and he realized he didn't have the tools to fix her.

They ate lunch at a mom-and-pop’s restaurant as they waited for the mechanic to finish, and Cas gave him the pickle from his sandwich. "I'm sorry I never asked you to stay," Dean told him and wished he'd said it earlier. "I never wanted you to leave."

Cas gave him a sad smile. "It's in the past." He tapped his foot against Dean's under the table, and Dean hooked his ankle with his foot.

Cas parted the curtains in every motel they slept in, tilted his face to the sun beaming through the windshield, urged Dean to stop for a cardboard sign reading Fresh Strawberries $2. Reruns of The Three Stooges made Dean laugh until he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, had to catch his breath. This happiness didn't seem so fragile, this time. When they turned on the TV tomorrow night three hundred miles away, The Three Stooges would play into the morning, and when he told Cas he loved him, Cas would say it back.

Crossing over rippling water or curving through wooded land, he and Cas spoke a cabin in the woods, a house on the coast, a home. Dean's head filled with the future instead of the past. Every mile that passed under their tires brought them closer to this dream—or so he thought, until he stopped at a red light, and Cas took his hand, and he realized home sat beside him now.

In a diner in Arkansas, Cas read from a menu, plastic corners curling, and commented, "No matter where we go, every place serves an iceberg wedge salad."

Dean replied, "I think I'm ready to stop driving."

He didn't know where they'd park the Impala for good, but he pictured somewhere with windows, patches of sunlight on the floor. The details didn't matter so much, though, not so long as he had Cas.

"For you to me are the only one," he sang over Robert Plant, glancing at Cas as he turned up the radio, wind whistling through the open windows, road humming under their feet. Happiness, no more be sad, happiness, I'm glad.

[riflewounds]

Whumptober, day 2 | Nowhere To Run (cornered, confrontation)

Cw: abusive relationship, posessive whumper

---

The sky glowed with those wonderful hues of purple and orange.

A little over half past six in the evening. It's been a good day today.

Fuchs told him to have some time for himself. To relax, unwind, do whatever he needed to do.

It was almost suspicious, the way his boss said all those things. The strange grin twisted the younger man's lip as he stared his gunman up and down. Something predatory twinkled in the man's eyes, but Durant - naively - paid it little mind.

What's the worst that could happen?

He trusted him. After all, wouldn't his boss have the best intentions in mind for him?

Durant turned the corner, long legs carrying him down a smaller street. Plenty of tall buildings, separated by thin, dark alleys.

He had a gun on him. If anything were to happen, he could fight his way out of it, tooth and nail.

Unless... unless he asked for it.

He passed by a deli or two. Then a fancy bar. He paused in front of it, studying the lit sign, but ultimately his interest faded. Too high-brow for him. He didn't need to be reminded of the weird fucks he worked for some years back. A good number of them seemed to love these fancy cocktail lounges, where even the cheapest drinks ran in the double digits and a laughable amount of french fries cost upwards of six dollars.

But the caviar and pork were suspiciously cheap.

And the wine had a strange aftertaste that reminded him of... a lot of things.

So he moved on, in search of some cheaper establishment. Those seemed to be honest, never lying about what they were. They didn't try to mask their rancid stink with fancy flowers or beautiful architecture. No, they proudly displayed their blackboard signs, touting their shit beer was cheaper than water. And they weren't lying, one large beer came in at half the price of a small bottle of water.

He kept pacing, heading through progressively shadier streets.

Until one sign caught his eye. It was colorful, shades of pink, blue, purple and yellow, big green-yellow lettering stating 'TOUCAN CLUB'.

And he went in.

Cheap cigarettes and tropical cocktails. He could pick out a faint trace of a tequila sunset among the dense sea of overwhelming scents. Maybe he should have that instead of his usual order of whatever was closest to whiskey on the rocks. He didn't particularly care about what they put in it, just that it was strong, burned his throat, and distracted him long enough to relax.

But the atmosphere beckoned him to try something else for a change. The dim colorful light, neon signs of toucans sitting on branches, they even had potted palms scattered around the bar to make it feel even more tropical.

He stopped in front of a big poster listing the drink menu.

Nothing out of the cocktail section caught his eye. He moved on to the special section, a selection of cocktails made only at this establishment, and nowhere else. They were all toucan themed, but there was one that sounded interesting. The Toucan Secret.

This one was based on white rum and orange juice, with some pineapple juice and a dash of dragonfruit. But the ingredients also mentioned sugar, kiwis, lime, everclear, and a 'secret blend'. Who knows how potent this would be.

But his curiosity got the better of him, Durant waltzed up to the bar, ordered this toucan-themed concoction, and sat his eager rear on the bar stool.

It took a few minutes, but he was a patient man. In his line of work, he wouldn't have gotten this far if he was an impatient little shit. He passed time by studying those colorful toucans. The lights were pretty, pink and yellow went surprisingly well together, molding into a red gradient where their colors met.

A mesmerizing image, one he was broken out of with the sound of glass against lacquered wood. "The Toucan's Secret, sir."

Before him sat a tall glass, much like the ones used for Long Island Iced Teas. It even had a green straw and a little pink parasol stuck in a chunk of pineapple lazily floating on top.

And it wasn't even that expensive.

It didn't take long for someone to notice him. He practically glowed with such a flamboyant drink on his hands. And as this stranger approached, Durant looked him up and down. Tall, he wouldn't call him handsome, but there was something about the way he carried himself that caught his fancy.

Durant sipped away at his drink. The pineapple juice nibbled at his tongue, tiny invisible saw teeth stripping the outermost layers of his tongue. The sugar and orange juice gave the cocktail its smoothness, and the dash of kiwi and dragonfruit left a nice sweet-sour aftertaste. He couldn't really feel the alcohol in there, save for the warmth spreading through his chest.

Overall, he was happy with his choice.

He took another long sip as the stranger sat down, briefly glanced at the lone gunman before he turned to the barman with those magic words: "I'll have what he's having."

Oh no. Durant knew this little dance. He's seen it before, been a part of it before. Wanted to engage in this little tango again.

They hit it off. Had a little chat. Things turned spicy, with the gunman forced against the cold tiled wall, giggling like a little child with a grin spanning half his face. Consensual violence.

He didn't recall most of what had transpired, on the account of his head slamming into the wall multiple times. Thankfully nothing broke, but his head throbbed with that nasty sickening headache and looking at lit street lamps sent waves of stabbing pain throughout his skull. But he could still walk.

Well, mostly. His legs ached, especially his thighs, and badly. But it was all in good fun, it was the good pain he sought out once in a while, not the bad pain he tried to avoid at all costs.

He still had that satisfied smile as he stumbled out of the Toucan club. The nice warm, fuzzy feeling radiated from his depths, rose up to his head and he tipped his head back for a moment, sending him reeling.

Okay, he definitely had a concussion. Combine that with alcohol (just one drink, but it was a hefty one, who knows how potent, too), and he had quite a powder keg on his hands.

He'll be fiiine. He always was, given enough rest.

But he didn't have time. The sun was setting and it was almost dark, and he had time until midnight to haul ass home.

Home. As if some dingy, moist hole in the wall was a home. No. It was one of Fuchs' hideouts, a web of strategically placed vacant apartments scattered across most cities. An expensive operation to maintain, but there always was a home (or three) wherever they went.

Durant traced quite a path through the town, killing time, trying to sober up a bit before he headed back. The concussion was enough of an issue on its own, he didn't need to get home drunk, too. 

He wound up settling in a park, sprawling across an old bench. The wood caught against his creased clothes, a mainstream combination of a dark cotton shirt, black suit jacket and dark chinos, brought together with a simple cloth belt with a toothed buckle, and dark brown leather moccasins. Maybe excessively formal for this part of town, but inconspicuous enough to blend in with the crowds. The gunman sat there in the park, head craned back, resting against the hardwood strips. It wasn't particularly pleasant, but he's slept in worse places. Spending a few minutes resting on a shitty park bench was always loads better than sleeping on cold granite floors of a train station. And then scrambling before the guard set on beating the everliving shit out of him if he didn't leave.

He didn't like to reminisce about his time between jobs. Living on next to no money, unable to even get a motel room for the night. Raiding delis and gas stations to even get by, then skipping town just so the cops wouldn't get their grubby little hands on him.

And he got good at running. Running from the law, the people he pissed off, his previous employers, and himself.

Some time later, he noted how the cold was slowly creeping through his clothes. Maybe it was time to move.

Durant slowly got up to his feet. The world didn't spin as he moved, maybe he'd recovered enough to continue on home.

And so he walked. Away from the park, next to some small river, down a suburban street and then another. Suburban houses gave way to low apartment buildings, five, six stories tall at most. Blocs upon blocs of the same brown brick buildings, separated by thin alleyways.

He turned left, a second to last turn before he finally got home. 

There was a hand at his throat, pulling him into the alley next to him. Durant went for his gun, fingers almost wrapped around the grip, when he caught a glimpse of the man's eyes. He barely got a sound out before the man's hand cinched at his windpipe and steered him back-first into the nearest wall with more force than necessary. Durant's head met the brick with a dull thud, bright sprites dancing across his vision as sounds slowly came back to focus.

"I don't think you've listened to me, puppy," the man hissed through clenched teeth, "I thought I've made myself clear."

He tried to remember how his tongue worked among the thick buzz in his head.

"And yet you didn't listen!"

The hand at his neck yanked at him, threw him off balance before it tossed his confused body to the ground.

He recognized the silhouette, long lanky limbs, messy dark hair, eyes full of some strange predatory instinct. "Fuchs?"

"Oh so now you've found your words," his boss mocked, kneeling beside the gunman, "Tony."

His lizard brain screamed at him to get up, but then Fuchs' hand was at his collarbone, just resting there, thumb stroking the gunman's shirt.

He wouldn't get up. It wasn't the right decision.

Durant felt how his ribcage grew and shrank under his boss' hand.

"Tell me, puppy. What did I tell you about hanging around other men without my approval?"

"To mind my own business," Durant replied, a slight terrified tremble to his voice.

"That's right. And what did you do?"

God, what should he say? The cat's out of the bag and it wouldn't go back in. Durant sucked in a tense breath.

"I went against my word."

"You'll have to make this up to me."

The gunman was afraid he'd utter those words. That this fucker needed his ego stroked with Durant squirming on the floor under him, scratching at the carpet and screaming, begging to be let go. He just hoped it would go quick this time but... he had a hunch it wouldn't.

"Now get up. We'll talk when we get home."

[burgerdudes]

🍔 Review № 550 ━ 📍 Hotbox Burgers ★★★★☆ • Hotbox Burgers opened in Halmstad late in the spring of 2022, and have already started their expansion plans. Their menu consists of two regular burgers, a monthly creation and a halloumi burger. We have visited them twice and tried two different varieties; a The Cheese with a 120-gram beef patty from a local farm, two slices of organic burger cheddar, pickles, red onions, ketchup, mustard, mayo and something as surprising as roasted corn, plus a The Hotbox with the same amount of meat, cheddar, bacon, red onions, chili sauce and corn. Both burgers cost 120 SEK (12 USD), including an order of french fries and a soft drink during lunch hours. • Despite being first in line it took a while to get our burgers, but when they arrived they looked really good (but not as good as they did on their socials) The locally baked bun was invitingly warm and fluffy, and our first bite was amazing and made us hungry for more. The beef was tasty, juicy and with a deep crust, and the cheddar made everything nice and creamy – especially in out The Cheese. The bun tasted as good as it looked, but we didn’t really notice the corn in any of our burgers, and we felt a bit confused as to why they’d even added this ingredient to their menu at all. We enjoyed the well-balanced heat and flavour composition in our The Hotbox, but the bacon was quite soft and ought to have been much crispier. • Hotbox Burgers are off to a good start, and it’s obvious that they’re using really high-quality ingredients. If they manage to up their game whilst expanding they’re set to become one of the better small chains in the south of Sweden. ━ @hotboxburgersse #burger #burgers #burgertime #burgerporn #burgerdudes #burgerlovers #food #foodie #hamburger #hamburgare #halmstad #halmstadburgers #🍔 #🍟 #🇸🇪 (at Halmstad, Sweden) https://www.instagram.com/p/CeiZGT6DtwF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=