#one pan pork chops

[brunchbinch]

One pan pork chops with apple & onion (x)

[weaselle]

i had to make a solution for this for myself, mostly because of depression, but it makes a nice How To for folks who are low on spoons or could use some help in the kitchen.

Fortunately i was a professional cook for over a decade. UNfortunately the first post i made explaining it was suuuuper long. Let's see if i can do better

So you select any protein that you can cook in a frying pan -- chicken breasts, ground beef, pork chops, sausages, steak, chicken thighs, whatever. You also select one or two types of veggie (mushrooms or tubers also work, i just did this with potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight).

[i like cooking for vegetarians, but this is how i cook for myself when i'm low on spoons - perhaps i'll do another post for meatless meals]

You'll also need some kind of oil, and a sauce or two of your choice in a bottle. All cooking gear is a large frying pan with lid (i prefer non-stick) a spatula, a cutting board, and a knife.

You cut the veggies into bite size pieces, cut up enough for two meals. One kind of veggie is fine, or you can do mix two or three

Put frying pan on medium heat with a little oil. Tubers or mushrooms or go in the pan a few minutes before the protein. 2 portions of the protein goes in the pan, about 5 minutes with lid (don't worry you can still get a good sear on both sides)

Now flip your protein if it's flip-able and add normal veggies, put the lid back on another five-ish minutes.

Take your protein out and put it with one portion of the veggies in a microwave safe container. That's going to be your lunch tomorrow. Put the other portion of protein on a plate to rest (you have to let a cooked protein sit a couple minutes before you serve it or when you cut into it all the juices run out and it goes dry - the liquids thicken as it cools, preventing this drying out if you let it rest, the goal is to serve it very warm but not hot hot)

While it's resting, pour some sauce from your bottle in the pan with the rest of the veggies and turn up the heat. A single sauce/bottle is fine, i like to get fancy and mix a couple. Two examples of personal favorite mixes are 1: bbq sauce and a hot sauce like sriracha 2: roughly equal parts low sodium soy sauce and worcestershire (makes something similar to a teriyaki sauce) A swallow of wine is almost always a great option if you want to add that to your sauce too, just add it to the pan before the other sauces so the alcohol has time to burn off.

...

Here is the important bit. While your veggies are finishing, wash your cutting board and chef knife. Then when you dump your veggies and sauce over your protein on the plate, while it is still too hot to eat, you wash your frying pan and spatula before you eat. Now the only dishes you have left to do are your plate and fork. Maybe a steak knife.

...

The whole thing takes about 35 minutes even with washing the dishes, and that includes your lunch for the next day- just pour a different sauce on and stick it in the microwave for a couple minutes (or five minutes back in the frying pan) and you have a full healthy lunch with a different flavor

You can use this technique every single meal and it yields hundreds of combinations, from pork and potatoes bbq, to salmon and broccoli teriyaki, to chicken and zucchini in a soy glaze.

It will keep you down to less than an hour of kitchen time per day total for both lunch and dinner including all dish clean up, uses the least dishes, the least effort, requires the least technique, and is, depending on what you pick out, very affordable

here are a couple more examples from this month; i didn’t take pictures of the salmon i did recently, but you get the idea

it's not super fancy, but it is easy, affordable, quick, and any flavors you want. Hope this helps some folks

Happy Cooking!

[artful-gallery]

One pan creamy butter pork chops. 🥩🌿

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸

< prev // next >

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣: "who used my kitchen?"

Word count: 4036

Summary: In this chapter, Y/N wakes up to find Felix asleep beside her and makes her way to the kitchen to prepare a big breakfast for her new packmates. Chan praises her cooking and offers to help set up a garden for her, which she gratefully accepts. Y/N has a tense encounter with Hyunjin, who reacts coldly and dismissively. Upset, she retreats to Felix’s room where I.N and Lee Know comfort her. Lee Know speaks with Hyunjin, helping him confront his fears and pain about getting hurt again. The mood lightens when Changbin and Minho’s playful food fight breaks out in the kitchen, making Y/N smile and feel more at ease.

Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate, insecurities,

The next morning, Y/N woke up feeling the weight of Felix’s arms draped around her waist, her legs tangled in the blankets. She groaned as she stretched, trying to ease the stiffness in her neck without disturbing Felix, who was sleeping soundly and peacefully. The pressure on her bladder made her discomfort even more urgent.

Reluctant to wake him, Y/N carefully extricated herself from his embrace and tiptoed to the bathroom. This was the first time in ages she’d slept in a bed, and she savored the comfort. She glanced at herself in the mirror and sighed—she looked disheveled. Knowing she couldn’t face the day like this, she quickly freshened up, borrowing a few items from Felix’s makeup bag: some chapstick, blush, mascara, and concealer.

Feeling somewhat presentable, Y/N made her way to the kitchen. The house was still quiet, the soft snores of her new packmates just audible thanks to her keen omega hearing. The spacious kitchen brought a smile to her face. She had always loved cooking and gardening, memories of her childhood cabin in the woods flashing through her mind. Her father had built it for her, a sanctuary where she could indulge her passions. Although she missed her old pack, she felt a growing sense of gratitude for her new one.

Y/N glanced around the kitchen, methodically pulling out pots and pans. She made a mental note of where each item was stored, ensuring she wouldn’t disrupt Leeknow’s precise organization. With a quiet determination, she set to work, contemplating her options for breakfast. “What to cook?” she murmured, rifling through the ingredients before deciding on pork kimchi jjigae and some pie. It seemed like a perfect choice for the boys.

Her hands moved with practiced ease as she prepared the dish, multitasking by brewing coffee and squeezing fresh juice. She hummed a lively tune, her hips swaying rhythmically. Cooking was her sanctuary, a place where she felt truly at home, and she embraced every aspect of it.

As she chopped vegetables and stirred the pot, Chan wandered into the kitchen, his eyes widening in surprise. “Wow, you’re up early,” he remarked, noting the contrast to his usual routine. Chan was typically the first one awake, starting his day with coffee and catching up on work while the rest of the pack got ready for practice. Today, however, he was greeted by the sight of Y/N already bustling about. “It smells amazing in here,” he added, his voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

Y/N looked up from her tasks, a warm smile spreading across her face at the sight of Chan. “Good morning, Chan!” she chirped, her voice bright with enthusiasm. She gave him a quick, respectful bow before turning back to her cooking. “I’ve made coffee and fresh juice if you’d like some. I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer a fruit bowl, and I couldn’t quite find any,” she explained, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked around the kitchen.

Chan chuckled, clearly entertained by her earnestness. “You’re quite the early bird. I usually get up first, make some coffee, and work on my laptop until the others are up. But it looks like I’m not the only one with a morning routine now.” He approached the counter, his gaze taking in the array of dishes and the inviting aroma filling the room. “And it smells absolutely delicious. What are you making, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed with pride. “I’m making pork kimchi jjigae. I thought it would be a nice treat for everyone. I love cooking, and I wanted to start the day on a good note.” She paused, then added with a playful smile, “I hope it turns out okay. I’m still figuring out the exact flavors they like.”

Chan’s eyes softened, and he leaned against the counter, looking genuinely impressed. “It’s really kind of you to do this. We’re all lucky to have someone like you around. I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

Y/N’s smile widened at his compliment. “Thank you, Chan. It’s nice to hear that. I’ve missed having a kitchen to cook in. Back home, my dad built me a cabin where I could cook and garden to my heart’s content. I really enjoyed those times.”

Chan nodded, understanding the sentiment. “I can imagine. It must be comforting to have a space where you can do what you love. You know, if you’re interested, we could set up a little garden for you here. I’d be happy to help build one.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the offer. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said softly, her cheeks flushing with a hint of shyness. “It’s really generous of you, but…”

Chan smiled warmly. “I insist. I know how important gardening is to you, and I think it would be a great way for you to feel even more at home here. It’ll be a nice project for us to work on together.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up, and she hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Well… if you’re sure, I’d really appreciate it. It would mean a lot to me.”

“Great!” Chan said, clearly pleased. “We’ll get started on it soon. For now, let’s focus on enjoying this delicious meal you’re preparing.” Y/N’s heart swelled with gratitude as Chan moved to assist. 

“Ah, this is adorable! But honestly, I think you’ve done more than enough. I’ll handle setting the plates and grab some coffee, if that’s alright with you?” Chan offered, his tone warm and appreciative.

Y/N shook her head, a determined look in her eyes. “No, Chan. You’re the Alpha; Alphas don’t work in the kitchen. Only omegas and betas do,” she said firmly, a playful note in her voice.

Chan raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “No, Y/Nnie. We’re all equal here. Just because I’m the Alpha doesn’t mean I can’t help out. Please understand that,” he said, gently taking her hand and beginning to massage it.

Y/N started to whine in protest, but Chan gave her a playful, almost mischievous glare. She felt her cheeks warm, her defiance melting away under his gaze.

“Alright, Channie, but today let me do this to say thank you,” she said, her voice softening. She knew it was a little white lie to make Chan feel at ease, but she was caught off guard when Chan looked at her with furrowed eyebrows and then broke into a giggle.

“You know,” Chan said, still chuckling, “I can see right through you. You’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s really sweet of you. If you insist, I’ll let you take charge this time, but remember, we’re all here to support each other. It’s a team effort.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with a mix of relief and mischief. “Okay, okay, you win,” she said with a smile, her earlier shyness replaced by a genuine grin. “I’ll let you help next time. But for now, enjoy the breakfast!”

Chan’s laughter filled the kitchen, making the atmosphere even more cheerful. As he helped set the table. 

As Y/N finished stirring the kimchi jjigae, Chan approached with a mischievous glint in his eye. Before she could react, he gently lifted her onto the counter and stood between her legs, the sudden closeness catching her off guard. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks as slick grew between her legs. what a turn on she thought.

“You know I can hear your thoughts, right?” Chan’s playful remark made Y/N’s face turn a deep shade of red. She jolted slightly, her pulse quickening at his unexpected proximity. could he actually? they weren't mated yet! he must be just playing with her feelings.

“Oppa, you can’t just do that!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and fluster.

“I can and I will,” Chan said with a teasing grin. “So you might as well be honest with me.”

Y/N huffed, trying to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “It feels like you’re testing my boundaries,” she said, trying to sound stern but failing as a giggle escaped her.

“Then stop trying to hide things. The pack alpha always knows,” Chan chuckled, his laughter warm and reassuring. Y/N playfully nudged him, a soft smile on her lips.

“Will you two horny bastards keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep,” Han’s voice cut through, his tone a mix of irritation and amusement as he passed by the kitchen toward the bathroom. Both Chan and Y/N burst into laughter at Han’s grumbling.

“Sorry!” Y/N called out, her laughter lingering as she returned to setting the table.

Chan grinned and said, “I’ll go get everyone up,” before heading out of the room.

Y/N took a moment to savor her coffee and the quiet before the day’s rush. Soon, the house was alive with the sound of the boys preparing for the day.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Changbin greeted enthusiastically as he entered the kitchen, giving Y/N a cheerful kiss on the top of her head. His scent quickly filled the kitchen making her omega purr. “This looks amazing, and I’m starving!” He quickly sat down, eagerly eyeing the breakfast spread.

“Please go ahead and eat. There’s plenty more, so dig in and tell me about your night,” Y/N said, gesturing to the breakfast spread as she encouraged Changbin to start eating. She was eager to hear how he had slept and what their plans looked like for the day ahead, knowing it was going to be a busy one.

Changbin took a bite of the pork and looked at her with a curious expression. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Y/N sighed contentedly. “I’m feeling great. I had the best sleep ever—the bed was so comfortable.”

Changbin chuckled, “That’s good to hear, jagiya. When we checked in, you, Han, and Felix were all out like lights.”

“It was a long day,” Y/N grumbled, “Sleep is crucial, and I don’t know how you alphas manage it all.”

“Hey! Those ‘alpha powers’ are what help us get through the day,” Changbin teased with a grin.

“Still, it feels so unfair!” Y/N pouted, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn. The conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and she turned to see Han and Felix walking into the kitchen, both already dressed and ready for the day.

“Good morning!” Han greeted enthusiastically, taking in the spread of food. “This looks amazing! Did you make all this?”

Y/N smiled, pleased with their reaction. “Yep, I thought I’d treat you all to a big breakfast. Help yourselves!”

Felix took a seat at the table, his eyes lighting up at the spread. “Thanks, Y/N. Everything looks fantastic.”

She handed both Han and Felix a glass of coffee and asked, “How was your night, guys?”

Felix grinned and took a sip of his coffee. “Mine was good, but someone”—he cast a playful glare at Y/N—“left me in a cold, empty bed all alone!”

Y/N pouted in mock indignation. “I had to make breakfast! Now sit and eat before it gets cold, and let me know what you think.”

Han quietly took a seat next to her, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her waist. He laid his head on her back, his warm presence a comforting contrast to the chill of the morning. Y/N nestled into him, savoring his fresh, sweet scent, feeling like she could stay like this forever.

“You should go get dressed, love,” Chan said as he re-entered the kitchen, grabbing some food for himself. “Most of the boys are already ready.”

Y/N giggled at Han’s reluctant response. “Okay, oppa. I’ll be back soon.” She gently put some food on Han’s plate and fed him a bite. His eyes remained closed, and he nuzzled closer to Felix, who was now seated beside him. “Someone’s definitely not a morning person,” Y/N chuckled, handing Han his chopsticks.

“M’ tired,” Han yawned and pouted. “I wanna go back to sleep.”

“Let her get dressed, Ji,” Chan said with a laugh. “She’ll be back soon.”

Han huffed but reluctantly released his grip on Y/N’s hand.

Felix called out as Y/N started to head to the hallway, “I laid out some clothes for you, sweetie. And Channie-hyung said you could use his hoodie, so I left it on the desk.”

“Thanks, Felix!” Y/N said, heading towards the hallway with a warm smile.

frames decorating the walls. The vibrant images and snapshots offered a fleeting distraction, but it was in that moment of distraction that she collided with a solid, unyielding figure.

“Watch where you’re going, damn it!” The voice was a harsh growl that cut through the morning calm, and she felt her entire body stiffen at the sound. Hyunjin.

Her breath caught in her throat. “S-sorry,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again. Are you okay?” She scrambled to her feet, her face flushed with embarrassment and panic.

Hyunjin’s gaze was icy, his eyes narrowing in irritation. Without a hint of sympathy, he looked her up and down with palpable disdain. “Just know your place,” he muttered under his breath as he brushed past her. The forceful jolt of his shoulder against hers sent a shiver through her body, leaving her feeling bruised both physically and emotionally.

Her heart pounded violently in her chest as she watched him walk away, the harshness of his words echoing in her mind. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. She turned and fled towards Felix’s room, her steps frantic and uneven. Fumbling with the lock, she finally secured the door behind her, the click of the latch echoing loudly in the quiet room.

“Y/N, are you okay?” The concerned voice of I.N came through the door, his tone laced with alarm. She could hear the urgency in his knock, the sound of his voice filled with concern.

“Y/N, what happened?” Lee Know’s voice joined in, his words carrying a similar worry. It was as if they were silently coordinating their concern, the murmur of their conversation drifting through the door in hushed tones.

“I’m okay,” she called out, her voice quivering as she tried to calm herself. “Just feeling a bit down.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks, trying to regain her composure before opening the door to her worried friends.

When she finally swung the door open, the immediate scent that hit the air was unmistakable—Hyunjin’s sharp, blueberry fragrance. The recognition was instant, and she saw their eyes widen with realization. The atmosphere in the hallway shifted, the concern deepening into a palpable tension.

“Oh my God, it was Hyunjin, wasn’t it?” I.N’s voice was thick with anger and frustration. His words were a mix of disbelief and indignation, his feelings clear even without seeing his face.

Lee Know’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of her. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice now more tender, though still tinged with concern.

As if on cue, the harsh scoff of Hyunjin’s voice rang out from the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he said dismissively, his tone dripping with casual indifference. The sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he retreated, carrying a plate of food as if it were the most mundane thing in the world.

“I’ll go talk to him. I.N, stay with her and make sure she’s alright,” Minho said firmly, his expression a mix of concern and determination. Gently, he pushed I.N into Felix’s room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Minho’s footsteps echoed down the hallway as he made his way to Hyunjin’s room, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders.

He knocked softly on the door, but the response was a muffled groan from inside. Undeterred, Minho reached out through their bond, his voice calm and steady. Hyunjin, it’s me. Can we talk for a moment?

Go away, hyung. I don’t want to talk to any of you, Hyunjin’s voice came through the bond, laced with irritation and a hint of vulnerability. He was seated on the bed, the breakfast that Y/N had prepared spread out before him. Despite his irritation, the food was undeniably delicious, a painful reminder of home that he was reluctant to admit he enjoyed.

I know this is hard for you, my love, Lee Know responded through their bond, his tone gentle yet persistent. Can I come in and we talk? I just want to understand what’s going on and help you through this.

There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open slightly. Taking this as a sign, Lee Know pushed it open and stepped inside. The air was thick with the sharp, sour scent of Hyunjin’s frustration. The room smelled of a bitter, angry beta, a stark contrast to the comforting aroma of breakfast. Hyunjin was sprawled on the bed, surrounded by his mini studio equipment, which was scattered haphazardly across the bedding. His hair was pulled up in its usual bun for practice, and his face was etched with irritation.

“Talk,” Hyunjin said curtly, his eyes fixed on the plate of food, which he picked at with a sense of begrudging acceptance.

Lee Know sat down beside him, aware of the emotional walls Hyunjin was trying to maintain. He knew that beneath the surface of irritation was someone deeply hurt. “Hyunjin,” he began softly, “I understand you’re struggling right now. But you have to give Y/N a chance. This isn’t just about you; it’s about moving forward and letting go of past hurts.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened as he continued to eat, clearly torn between his desire to push everyone away and his inherent longing for connection. Lee Know reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles.

“Look,” Lee Know said, his voice firm yet caring, “I know you’re in pain. I know you’re feeling overwhelmed by all of this. But isolating yourself and pushing others away isn’t going to solve anything. You need to confront these feelings and be open to the possibility of healing.”

Hyunjin’s eyes met Lee Know’s for a fleeting moment, filled with a storm of emotions. There was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze, quickly masked by a scowl. “I just don’t want to deal with this right now,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s going to hurt us, hyung. Why can’t we just be eight? Why do we have to be nine?”

The words cut through the room like a knife. Hyunjin’s chest ached as he thought about the trauma they had all experienced when “he” left. The fear of going through that kind of pain again was almost unbearable. “What if I get attached? What if she leaves? You know how my beta reacted last time. I can’t go through that again... I refuse to,” he said, his voice breaking.

Tears began to well up in Hyunjin’s eyes, and he struggled to hold them back. The emotional dam he’d built up was finally breaking, and he let out a sob. Minho, who had been listening closely, gently pulled him into a hug. He knew that Hyunjin needed comfort more than anything right now.

“You need to give her a chance,” Minho said softly, rubbing Hyunjin’s back in a soothing manner. “I know it hurts, and it hurts us all. But we’re trying to move on, and you know deep down you feel a connection with her. Have you not seen your paintings for the past few months?”

Hyunjin sighed heavily, his tears flowing freely now. “I’m sorry for yesterday. I was a jerk, and you all didn’t deserve that. I ruined everything,” he admitted, his voice choked with guilt.

“It’s okay,” Lee Know reassured him, wiping away Hyunjin’s tears with gentle hands. “Just try to get to know her before shutting her out completely. I know she’s eager to understand you, and if you don’t like her, we can take it from there.”

Hyunjin looked up at Minho with red-rimmed eyes, his heart heavy with regret and vulnerability. “Thanks, hyung. This means a lot,” he said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude.

Minho smiled, his eyes softening with warmth. “Anytime, Hyunjin. Just remember, we’re all in this together. Give her a chance, and give yourself a chance to heal.”

As Minho pulled back, Hyunjin took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him.

“I really needed that,” Hyunjin chuckled, his earlier tension melting away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lee Know replied warmly.

“I love you both!” Changbin’s voice rang out dramatically. The two betas, still squeezed in the hug, burst into laughter as Changbin pretended to weep theatrically before pulling them both into a tight embrace.

“Have you been there the whole time?” Minho asked, giving Changbin a mock glare.

Changbin, still grinning, shrugged sheepishly. “I couldn’t help it, okay! I smelled my baby beta was upset, and I had to come or I’d have gone mad.”

“Dude, you seriously need to stop walking into conversations,” Hyunjin said, lightly punching Changbin’s arm.

“Aish!” Changbin exclaimed with a playful wince. “Well, I’m just glad you’re feeling better. Sorry to interrupt this love fest, but hyung says we need to go downstairs. We’re leaving soon, and Minho and I.N haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“By the way!” Minho suddenly jumped up, darting into the corridor. “Who used my kitchen without asking?!” His voice echoed through the house.

In response, there was a chorus of giggles and muffled laughter. Y/N, who had been sitting in the other room, smacked her forehead in realization. She had completely forgotten to ask permission before using the kitchen. Guilt was written all over her face.

I.N snickered and playfully mimed zipping his lips shut before tossing the imaginary key away. Y/N giggled at his antics and quickly ran into the bathroom to get dressed, feeling much better than she had before.

“Han, I swear if it was you, you’re going into the air fryer with tissue in your mouth!” Minho’s voice carried through the house, followed by a cacophony of running footsteps, yelps, and bursts of laughter.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom, now dressed in a skirt and crop top that Felix had picked out for her, she quickly grabbed the hoodie chan had let her use. As she made her way to the kitchen with I.N’s hand in hers, she hoped that no one had snitched on her. But when she reached the kitchen, her face turned bright red with embarrassment.

The sight before her was enough to make her heart race. Minho and Changbin were in the middle of a playful food fight, their laughter echoing through the room. Pieces of breakfast were scattered around, and the chaotic scene was a far cry from the calm, organized kitchen she had envisioned. She stood frozen for a moment, her cheeks flushed, feeling as if she had walked straight into a comedy show.

I.N gave her a reassuring squeeze, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he noticed her embarrassment. “Welcome to the chaos,” he said with a grin. “Looks like you’re in for a wild morning.”

Y/N laughed nervously, her earlier anxiety melting away in the face of the lively, chaotic scene.

🍄🌻🥞🌿

Dont forget to reblog and follow! <3

Taglist: @ihrtlix @bowsnbang @katsukis1wife @thegingerthatwaited @thicccurls (open)

[foodshowxyz]

Kimchi Jeon (Savory Kimchi Pancakes)

Yields: 4 servings Prep Time: 15 minutes Cook Time: 10-15 minutes

Ingredients:

1 cup well-fermented kimchi, roughly chopped

1/4 cup kimchi juice

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

1/4 cup potato or corn starch

1/2 cup cold water

1 large egg, lightly beaten

3-4 scallions, thinly sliced

1-2 tablespoons vegetable oil or neutral-flavored cooking oil

Optional additions:

1 tablespoon gochugaru (Korean red pepper flakes) for extra spice

1 tablespoon soy sauce

1 teaspoon sesame oil

Other vegetables: thin strips of carrot, onion slices

Dipping sauce ingredients:

Soy sauce

Rice vinegar

A pinch of sugar

Toasted sesame seeds (optional)

Instructions:

Make the batter: In a mixing bowl, combine flour, potato/corn starch, kimchi, kimchi juice, egg, water, and scallions. (Include any optional ingredients you'd like). Mix until a slightly thick batter forms.

Heat the pan: Heat a large skillet or nonstick pan over medium heat. Add a thin layer of oil to the pan.

Cook the pancakes: Pour about 1/2 cup of batter into the hot pan, spreading it into a thin, even circle. Cook for 3-4 minutes per side, or until golden brown and crispy.

Repeat: Repeat the cooking process with the remaining batter, adding more oil as needed.

Make the dipping sauce: In a small bowl, combine the soy sauce, rice vinegar, and sugar. Add sesame seeds if desired.

Serve: Slice the pancakes into wedges and serve immediately with the dipping sauce.

Tips:

Well-fermented kimchi: Using older, well-fermented kimchi provides the best flavor and acidity.

Consistency check: The batter should be the consistency of a slightly thick pancake batter. If it's too thick, add a tablespoon or two of water. If it's too thin, add a bit more flour.

Don't overcrowd the pan: Cook one or two pancakes at a time to achieve the best crispiness and an even cook.

Experiment: Feel free to add seafood, thinly sliced pork, or other vegetables to your pancakes.

[wardenparker]

Countdown to a Kiss

Dave York x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: General audiences, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: None to speak of, really? Food and alcohol, brief clothing/outfit mention. Single Dad Dave and Single Mom Reader. Flirting. Fluff. Implied sex. Summary: Attending a New Years Eve fundraiser at your daughter's school doesn't seem quite so daunting when you get to spend the night with her best friend's single father - Dave York. Notes: Happy 2025, everyone! A little festive fic to ring in the new year 🍾🎆 (As always, the gif is just for vibes, not for physical representation of the reader.)

Dave doesn’t move like he used to. There’s muscle weakness. He sometimes limped. His grip strength in his right hand - his dominant hand - is significantly less than what he was just a year ago. It was better than it had been right after the hours of surgery he had endured, but he would never be what he was. Be it a blessing or a curse, Dave York was different.

However, how could he say no to those warm, gentle brown eyes when they look up at him with so big a pleading? Looking so much like his own without the cynicism and rancor he had developed over time. Little Molly hadn’t had the hard life lessons he had, and he hopes she never does. Alice, older, more observant, is slightly more jaded but she had been old enough to understand that someone had hurt her daddy when he had been trapped on that hospital bed for weeks. He had avoided telling her the truth, but she was also smart as a whip. She didn’t believe him when he said it had been an accident.

“You girls really want to go to this New Year’s dance?” He asks, glancing at both of them as the three of them stand in line at the grocery store with the supplies for the grilled chicken dinner he had planned. Since Carol had left, grilling had been his go-to for meat, since he hated the dry, pan fried pork chops she had served him for years.

“Yes!” Both of them immediately answer, nearly shouting and Dave sees several people glance his way and shift uncomfortably at the sight of the deep, ugly scar over his eye. He had just been lucky to keep the damn thing, so it doesn’t bother him. His girls still look at him, so that’s all that matters. “Please? Please, daddy?” Molly begs, making Dave soften, even though he had already decided to go.

“Alriiiiiiiiiight.” He sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes because it makes them giggle. “We’ll go to the New Year’s Dance.”

Carol had been the shrewdest of the three women in his life. As was her right. He had married her for her beauty and her brains, but it seemed that when it came to her heart, even Carol York had limits.

The divorce had been ruthless, with Carol keeping the house in DC and two of the three cars. She combed the accounts -- the ones she knew about -- for all the assets she could possibly lay claim to. And she'd thrown away the girls just as quickly as she had their marriage. It was her claim that she wanted nothing to do with them in case they turned out like him.

So that was it. Dave, Alice, and Molly were on their own.

He had moved them away. Away from the mother that didn't want them and memories of the past. Mainly moving away so that he could make sure that Robert McCall didn't know he was still alive.

He didn't want to deny them much, so he had enrolled them in a private school. The best in the area. Hoping that the structure would keep them on track after Carol had let their schooling slip when he was in the hospital.

The first few months seemed to go alright. Molly had made several new friends, always being the outgoing type, but more reserved Alice had made only one. Still, Dave counted that as a positive. One new friend was better than none, and it boded well for her.

Dave had accounts Carol had never known about, would never know about. She had signed away all of her rights in exchange for no child support. He didn't need money from her, able to buy a house that was better than the one in D.C., even if it was smaller. He could hire a sitter for the girls if he needed but his business allows him to work from home and take the girls with him when necessary. He didn't kill anymore, but he didn't need to.

As a security consultant, he was able to navigate his business and his family life as needed. The newest piece of that puzzle was the girls’ school. Because of the nature of the school he was sending the girls to now, with its occasional political family, old money benefactors, and celebrity children all in the mix, they did require a level of finesse that he wasn’t much used to from a school. Their barbecues were practically Michelin star and their talent shows could have been Broadway caliber. The annual PTA fundraiser was a New Years Eve party that was so swanky it could have been mistaken for a Hollywood soirée.

"I guess we will have to find dresses for you girls." He muses, making a face that makes Molly giggle and Alice roll her eyes. His girls are beautiful and he hates that they are growing up far faster than they should.

"And you a pretty suit!" Molly reminds him.

"Daddy has pretty suits." Alice reminds her sister, and he can see the wheels of her clever little mind turning already. "The one that has the two rows of buttons," she tells her father, chin turned up to look all the way up at him. "Makes you look like a black and white movie."

He lifts a brow, the one that isn't scarred, at her comment. "That one, huh?" He asks, amused, although she has always had a flair for fashion. Her dress up clothes were always neat and coordinated. She hadn't been one to wear the same princess dress for months at a time. "You think I should shave?" He asks, rubbing the slightly unkempt stubble on his chin. Growing out a beard wasn't working for him, it was growing in patchy.

"Yeah!" Alice nods enthusiastically, but then seems to think better of the idea and frowns. "Shave your chin."

"Shave my chin." He barks out a laugh and nods, "message received." He hums as the three of them move up in the line to start putting their groceries on the conveyor belt. "I'll shave my chin."

"Marnie's gonna wear pink to the party." Alice reports, solemnly and with an air that said it would definitely affect the decision of what she would wear. But to her father, she adds, "Our party is different from your party."

"What happens at your party, baby?" He reaches out and strokes her back. He always wants her to be able to talk to him, to confide in him.

"It's called a Sock Hop." Her tone implies that since she had never heard the term before, she's absolutely certain her father hasn't either. "And there's gonna be pizza and ice cream and the teachers are gonna play games with us."

“That sounds like fun.” He offers, knowing he would like that party more than the one that they want him to attend. He doesn’t have much in common with the wealthy parents so he won’t have much conversation during the party.

"Do you know what your party will be like, Daddy?" Molly asks, equally excited to go to a sock hop with all of her new friends.

“No pizza.” That he knows for sure. “But I’m sure there will be music and dancing.”

"No pizza?" His younger daughter looks positively affronted at that idea. "How do you have a party without pizza?"

“I don’t know.” He nods to the cashier, watching her glance at his eye and then at the girls warily. He’s used to it, but it still stings sometimes, before this, he has been a pretty good looking guy. Nothing astonishing, but he had more than a few women giving him an interested glance. Now they just look at him and wonder what happened to his face. They wouldn’t even know how to react to the other scars he wears from that day. “I’ll have to report back if I survive.”

"Daddy." Alice scolds with a very serious expression. "You'll be fine." Sometimes she sounds so much like her mother that it stings. Sometimes, like now, she sounds like his mother.

“Are you sure?” He asks, pulling out his wallet to pay. “Because I’m not so sure.”

"Alice is always sure," Molly reminds him. The air of a little sister admiring the hell out of her big sister is obvious, and Dave can't help but grin.

The cashier seems to soften slightly, seeing his interaction with his daughters and she doesn't seem so hesitant when she gives him the total. He pays and loads up the groceries, letting the girls chatter between themselves as he wheels the cart out to the parking lot and nearly runs into a cart rushing into the store. "Whoa!" He yanks it back just in time and looks up, about to say something snarky when he sees that it's you. Marnie, your daughter, already lunging forward to hug Alice while letting out an ear piercing squeal that only pre-teen girls manage. It makes his tinnitus flare up sometimes.

The commotion drowns out your gentle scolding, and Marnie isn’t listening anyway. You’ll remind her afterward that she has to stay safe and aware of herself in parking lots — right now she’s too busy hugging the life out of Alice York and won’t listen to a thing that comes out of your mouth.

Frazzled single mom isn’t normally the look you go for but today has been a doozy, and you know your hair is a bit unkempt and your clothes not as neat and tidy as you would prefer. It wouldn’t matter to you except that you’ve run into your daughter’s best friend at the supermarket — which means he is here too. Alice’s father, Dave. Ridiculously hot, mysterious, definitely has seen some shit in his life but loves his girls so much, Dave.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you joke, lamely, and wish you had just stopped to run a comb through your hair before you left the house.

"Odd thing, that need for food." Dave always thinks that you are nervous around him. Little tics showing up every time you run into each other. Shifting, sometimes tripping over your words. He tries to be friendly to put you at ease, but it seems to never help. "You two busy today?" He maneuvers the cart over a half a foot and reaches out gently to guide yours to the side as well the man behind you can slip past. Not ready to let the conversation die just yet, his excuse will be the girls, but that's not completely it.

“The usual Saturday chaos,” you tell him, letting out a poorly disguised nervous laugh. He’s so stupidly attractive that it makes you flighty. Like a teenager with her first real crush. It’s probably that he’s the first person you’ve been genuinely attracted to since the divorce and that also makes you nervous. “Errands, swim lessons, going to grandma’s house. How about you guys?”

"Karate, lunch out, going to the park." He shrugs. "Now the age old question of 'what's for dinner?' has been answered." He motions to the bags. "Grilled chicken and asparagus, mashed potatoes and a salad. One of those caesar kits Molly loves."

“That sounds positively gourmet.” From everything you know about Dave York — which is admittedly not much — he dotes on his girls completely and takes incredible care of them. Which frankly, only makes him more attractive. “I think my mom was talking about meatloaf tonight.”

"Meatloaf is delicious." Dave agrees. "I've just never been able to make it." He misses Carol's recipe, but she wouldn't give it to him to make for the girls. All the ones online didn't sound similar to it so he had essentially given up the search.

“It’s not easy. My Mom’s is always infinitely better than mine.” You glance at your daughter and laugh. “Or so I’m told.”

“Oh yeah. I love the comparisons.” Dave snorts, rolling his eyes.

“So, um…” Watching the girls chatter excitedly for a long moment, you bite back your nerves and decide that you’re asking for Marnie. That’s it. Just for your daughter. And not at all for your own selfish interest. “Did you get the annual fundraiser notice?”

"I did." He nods, wondering if you will go. He knows that you aren't quite like the other parents either. He's always assumed that’s why you are a little more friendly with him than the other mothers. Your daughter attends the private school because it was a part of your divorce settlement. At least, that was what was whispered behind cocktail glasses at the first and last PTA meeting Dave attended. "The girls just begged me to go. So I have to ask, what shade of pink is Marnie wearing?" He had been informed there are many types of pink when he had gotten the wrong one once for the Barbie movie he took the girls to see.

“Ah, yes, I heard about the Barbie movie debacle.” It eeks a grin out of you, because despite Dave being a girl dad you don’t see him as a pink kind of guy. “That would be baby pink. I managed to unearth an old Pink Ladies costume from many moons ago and I’m altering it for her.”

"Baby pink." He nods and pulls out his phone to make a note. "I'm going to take them dress shopping tomorrow I guess." He looks up. "Are you going to the adult party?" He tries to keep the question casual, like he's just curious.

“I thought I might put in an appearance.” It makes the most sense for you to go. It’s better than spending New Year’s Eve at home with a bottle of wine and take out, anyway. Or, at least, you tell yourself it is. All those gossipy PTA parents know far too much about your divorce and all sigh about how much they miss seeing your ex-husband at events. The best you can figure, the Moms all miss drooling over him. You don’t want to think about how many of them he actually might have slept with. Keeping the girls in that school is good for them, but it’s a punishment for you.

"Me too." He sends you a commiserating look and shrugs. "Beats being alone and then having to pick the girls up later." He reasons.

"Daddy!" Alice's eyes widen like she's just thought of the greatest idea ever. "Why doesn't Marnie spend the night?" She asks excitedly. "After the dance. Please? Please? It would be so much fun!"

Marnie immediately jumps on that idea, pleading along with Alice the way only best friends can. You never really mind sleepovers, but you don’t know how Dave feels about them. “That’s a long night sweetie. The party is late at night.”

Dave is a sucker for the girls, maybe a little too soft, but after everything he thinks they deserve a little bit of spoiling. Nearly dying had truly put his priorities in order. "I don't mind." He offers. "If you don't." He shrugs. "Give you a night off if you want."

“As long as that’s okay with you.” It won’t be too much, after all. The girls will crash soon after getting home and you’ll come by early to pick up Marnie the next day.

He teases the girls by making them wait for a minute more, Alice and Marnie practically bouncing on their toes and Molly is just as excited because her older sister doesn't leave her out of fun with her friend. "Well, I guesssssss." He draws out, grinning when they start cheering and dancing in the entryway to the grocery store.

“You know what that means, girls,” You remind them in your best mom voice. “It’s still three weeks away, and Christmas is still coming, so we’re all going to be extra good. Right?”

He approves of the bribe, it's a good one and he nods in agreement when they glance over at him. "Gotta be good." He tells Marnie. "Help your mom out, m'kay?"

“Okay, Mr. York!” She’d do just about anything in the world to be able to spend time with Alice, so it isn’t much of a stretch to have her agree here.

Now that there is a plan, he hums. "We should probably go get dinner started, girls." He tells them, ignoring the whining groans and looks over at you. "Have a good night."

“Have a good night.” Your voice echoes his with a hint of a smile, bundle your daughter into the store to let the Yorks get on with their day. If you take a second glance behind you as you walk into the store…well…that’s perfectly fine. He didn’t catch you checking him out and you’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to have impure thoughts now and again.

******

It's a hassle, tying a perfect double windsor knot but the girls had insisted that he wear the polka dotted tie with his double breasted suit. He has to admit that it looks good with the crisp white shirt and pocket square against the dark charcoal of the suit. He had scrapped the hair off his chin but left the mustache, giving him a slightly darker, cleaner look.

Alice and Molly are in complementary pink and white dresses — Alice’s is more pink and Molly’s is more white, at their insistence — and their hair is done up in painstaking curls. Dave has had to learn, but the curve was unforgiving and steep.

Together they look exceptionally smart, and Molly giggles in the living room as her father adjusts his appearance for the eighth time in as many minutes. “Daddy looks handsome,” she points out to her older sister, who had very definite opinions about their father’s appearance tonight.

"You forgot cologne, daddy." She points out, arching a brow to look just like he used to when he would give her that look. He huffs slightly. "Why do I need to smell good?" He argues, although he is already starting to head towards the bedroom again to put some on. "It's not like I'm impressing anyone." He mutters to himself.

The ride to the girls’ school is full of upbeat pop music that Alice had picked out. She decided that she wanted to get excited but instead of listening to the 50s and 60s music that will get played at the party, she opted for the Barbie soundtrack yet again.

The music is definitely not to Dave's tastes and it makes his ears want to bleed, but he focuses on driving so he can ignore it. Now he understands how some targets caved under the pressure of torture. This is torture.

The girls sing along and giggle happily, keeping the volume in the car high all the way to the school. The kids’ party is in the gymnasium so he parks the SUV in the lot there and gathers them up, fully expecting that Alice will bolt the second she sees Marnie.

Dave adjusts his tie and suit jacket before he takes Molly’s hand. Proud of how confidently she walks towards the entrance to the building where he will drop them off for their party, he runs into you and Marnie.

The girls squeal, running to each other and wrapping up in enthusiastic hugs, and you’re left laughing with Marnie’s coat in your hands. “Well that’s certainly one way to say hello,” you admit, shaking your head a little as you turn to say hello to Dave. The word sticks in your throat, though, when you get a glimpse of him. All cleaned up in a double-breasted suit with a beautiful silk tie, clean shaven except for an incredibly debonair mustache…Dave York looks like a 1940s matinee idol. He could give Humphrey Bogart such a run for his money that Bogey would be broke on the sidewalk. “H—hi.” You finally manage to stammer out, instinctively hugging your long wool coat a little tighter around yourself.

“Hi.” He nods respectfully and sees you shiver. “Come on girls.” He calls out. “Let’s get you checked in.”

“It was so sweet of you to offer to take the girls tonight.” The five of you go in together, finding long tables set up in the school gym for check in with smiling teachers who are hopefully being paid a whole lot of overtime. “I have Marnie’s bag in the car and I promise I won’t be late in the morning to get her.”

Dave frowns and shakes his head. “You should sleep in.” He huffs. “The girls will either sleep in like the dead or be up at the crack of dawn. Either way, I’ll be up.” He chuckles. “I promised them New Year’s Day waffles.”

“You’re a miracle.” You laugh, knowing waffles are your daughter’s favorite food on the planet. Waffles, chicken tenders, and carrot sticks would be the only thing she ate if she fixed her own food. “How about I give you a call when I wake up and you can let me know how the girls are managing?” It had become necessary to exchange numbers ages ago when the girls had their first playdate, but you have never abused the privilege. Even if you had started at his contact info a little too intensely once or twice after an extra glass of wine at night.

He chuckles, ignoring the startled looks from the teachers checking in the girls. Some people find it amazing that he laughs or can joke around. “That sounds good. And if you’re hungover, a waffle bar cures all ills.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll avoid that,” you murmur, momentarily averting your eyes so he doesn’t see how damned soft you get at the sound of his laugh. It seems to you that Dave York doesn’t laugh nearly enough. “I do have to drive myself home, after all.”

“If you need a ride, you just let me know.” He murmurs seriously. He wants you to enjoy yourself. He might have a drink but he never drank much before either. It wasn’t a good idea in his former profession.

Before you can get too flustered or trip over your words at such a simple show of manners, it’s suddenly your turn to check Marnie in for the kids’ party.

Her teacher flashes you an expectant smile. “Marnie and Alice, my dynamic duo. Come on over!”

Dave has to check both girls in, so he sidles up behind you. It almost makes the five of you seem like a family, eager to enjoy the night.

The same thought occurs to you, but it feels dangerous to dwell in it. You’ve had this lingering whatever this feeling is for Dave since you met him a few months ago and you can’t let it get out of hand.

Once the teacher has checked the girls in, they give Dave a hug, only because he insists. Both of them are eager to get to the fun. “Have a great time, girls.” He tells them. “I’m right next door if you need anything.”

Marnie gets the same hug and cheerful goodbye, and for a second it really is like you’re here with Dave instead of just at the same time. The silence lingers for a moment before you chuckle under your breath. “Somehow I think the food is going to be better at their party than ours,” you joke. The list of pizzas that have been ordered is out on a nearby table and you just know the food for the adults will be pretentious fine dining.

Dave snorts and nods. “I’ve never liked escargot. No matter how many times someone tries to convince me that it’s good.” He sees you playing with the edges of your coat. It seems to be a nervous tic. “Come on.” He offers his arm since it’s the polite thing to do and those heels look dangerous. “Why don’t I buy you the first of the overpriced  gin and tonics made with mediocre, well quality gin?”

“Sounds absolutely perfect.” The offer of his arm is downright gallant, and though you’re loath to make the comparison, for a moment you struggle to remember a single time your ex ever did something as chivalrous as offer you his arm or even open a door for you.

The two of you walk down the lit path towards the social hall of the school. Where the adults party was being held. It’s romantic with the white lights wrapped in the bushes and around the trees. Making him wonder if you wish you had brought a date.

Struggling for anything else to latch on to, you glance up at the man beside you and offer him a smile. “They did a nice job with the decorations this year.” Along with the silver lights all around you, there are golden lanterns near the entrance of the social building and you can see shimmering decorations inside along the hall.

“They know how to throw a party.” He agrees. “The last school the girls were in, they would have multicolored lights and handmade baubles.” He tells you. “Not bad, but a very different vibe.”

“Honestly?” You shrug a little. “I miss that kind of stuff. Marnie was in public school when she was little and loved all those homemade events. I did too.”

“Yeah.” Dave sighs softly. “I didn’t get to keep any of the homemade ornaments from when the girls were younger.” It didn’t make sense, since she didn’t want the girl, but he hadn’t argued. He just wanted to be done with everything.

“Neither did I.” Absolute bullshit that that was, but it’s a whole different story. “Divorce brings out the fucked up tendencies in people, if you’ll excuse my language.”

“Nothing to excuse.” He promises. “I completely agree with that sentiment.”

“Your girls are great though.” You can promise him that, even after a few months. “You got the good end of the deal with them.”

“I wasn’t going to let them be anywhere else other than with me.” Dave assures you. “Carol didn’t want custody at all.”

“Nick wanted just summer vacations.” You roll your eyes about the ridiculous way your ex had approached custody during the divorce. “Luckily for me, the judge wasn’t having any of his nonsense. She told him that Marnie was his child, not his accessory. I got full custody.”

“Good.” He nods and steps forward to open the door for you. Hating to lose the contact, even if you were holding his arm, but it’s good manners.

“Thank you.” It seems silly to be flustered over something so basic, but here you are. Swooning at common courtesy and letting him sweep you inside like a paper doll. “That’s…um…you know you don’t have to do that?”

“What? Hold the door open for a pretty lady?” Dave asks, smirking slightly. “It’s my pleasure, believe me.”

In your wildest dreams you can pretend that he’s flirting with you, so for now you will simply take the compliment and pretend. “Well…thank you. Here, um…” Suddenly you’re nervous and it feels so silly. “It looks like they turned the first room over here into a coat check.”

Dave doesn’t have a coat to check, but he goes over with you, watching as you untie the belt and his mouth dries up the second you slide the jacket off your shoulders. You look stunning. A blue dress, covered in gold stars, hugging your curves in all the right places and dipping down between your breasts. Now the starburst earrings make sense.

"What?" He's staring at you when you turn around and you panic. "Do I have something on my face? Have I had lipstick on my teeth the whole time?"

“No, uh, no.” Dave shakes his head quickly, feeling bad that he had made you panic. “I just- I was -“ what was he doing? Other than staring? “You look great.” He offers, feeling foolish for gawking like a teenager peeping on the girl’s locker room.

"Oh." Without your coat on, you feel a little shyer, but considering you played out a little fantasy in your head of Dave complimenting you in this dress and then it happened? You're just going to go on smiling and feeling good about this decision. "You clean up pretty well, too, you know."

“The girls dressed me.” It’s true, Alice had told him what to wear, so she had essentially dressed him.

You can't help but laugh at that, knowing how opinionated those girls can be. "She did a very good job."

“Thank you.” The signin desk is more of a payment station. ‘Donations’ for the party suggested. There are also drink tickets for sale and Dave decides he will buy some, even if he’s not drinking.

The tussle of protest ends with Dave the victor anyway, but at least you're satisfied that you made enough of an offer that he didn't feel obligated. He offers you his arm again and the gentle fantasy of this being an actual date seems closer with every step. "Maybe we'll get lucky," you offer, chatting because you're nervous. "And there won't be escargot."

“Pizza rolls.” He leans over and murmurs quietly. “Pray for pizza rolls.” It’s a joke, but his girls could live off of them if he let them.

"Ooo, yes." The snack food was never anything you had a taste for before, but now they are a welcome lunch option with a salad. "Or a bacon grilled cheese." You flash him a grin. "No crust, obviously."

“Of course not.” Dave rolls his eyes playfully and wonders if you are finding the conversation just as easy as he is. It was never just this simple to laugh and joke with Carol. “Crust ruins it.”

The main room of the building has been decorated just as well as the rest of the grounds, and as you walk through the door you're greeted with hundreds of glitter twinkle lights. The room seems to drip with them, like fantastical icicles in a winter fairy land. Whoever organized the decor for this party seems to have been told that everything should fall in the middle of a Venn diagram of Frozen and Bridgerton, so while there are delicate things and somehow it became magical instead of cheesy.

It’s a little ostentatious for him.  ‘Froufrou’ as his grandmother would say. Brass bells and real fern sprigs make up the centerpieces, along with  tapered candles, already lit and burning down. The tables are set with gold, and silver plates, crisp snowy white napkins that will be grease splatter and stained by the end of the night, and a bar that is presumably well stocked off to the side of the dance floor.

"It's so pretty," you breathe, completely by accident. You definitely meant to keep that thought inside just in case he disagreed, but it's out in the open now.

“And expensive.” Dave chuckles, catching the view of you discreetly gawking. “But, it’s pretty.”

"I'm sure they had decor leftover from previous Christmas parties and winter formals." It's too late to disguise the expression of delight on your face, though, so you just down play it with practicality. "Saves on the decorating costs."

“It’s okay to like it.” Dave promises, hating that you seem to deflate a little. He doesn’t want that. “I think they hit their target.”

"Sad single moms?" You laugh it off, putting that smile back on your face. No one likes a morose girl on their arm, your mother's voice says in your head. "How about we hit the bar?"

“That sounds like a plan.” He doesn’t offer you his arm, but his hand slides around you to your back as he starts to guide you towards the actual bar they have hauled in. “Gin and tonic?” He asks, knowing they are your favorite.

"Please." One word is all you can manage, but at least your smile is far more genuine with the feeling of his warm hand against you. It feels surreal and has you bordering on giddy -- practically forgetting that you had just been edging on embarrassment seconds ago.

Dave hums. “I’ll have one drink with you and then I’ll be the responsible one.” He makes it sounds like you’re a couple, but even if you wanted to venture out, he would make sure you got home safely.

"Don't let me spoil your fun," you insist, so used to the way your ex used to be so vocal about needing a few drinks to unwind.

“I don’t drink very often.” Dave admits quietly. “I’ll probably carry around this one until the ice melts.” He shrugs. “I don’t like not being in control of myself.”

"That is...a solid point." And a comfort that you hadn't been aware you would be glad to hear of. "I usually don't have more than one or two when I'm out," you tell him, getting into line at the bar when you arrive. "There's always someone else to take care of, or I need to be able to drive, or any other of a million reasons not to have more."

“So if you want to let loose a little tonight….” He lifts a brow. “Feel free, sweetheart.” He encourages you. “I’d say you deserve it.”

"We'll see." Although you can feel something deep in your chest fairly flutter at being called 'sweetheart'. "Do too much and I'll end up crashing the sleepover by sleeping it off on your couch."

He smirks slightly. “Don’t think that would be a bad thing.”

Before you can demure or tut, the pair of you reach the front of the line and the cheerful bartender defers to Dave to take both of your orders. Even with -- or perhaps sometimes because of -- his injuries, he has an air of a man who is in control no matter what the circumstance. And frankly? You've always found that as comforting as it is attractive.

“Gin and tonic for the lady and a whiskey sour.” Dave orders, sliding two of the overpriced tickets over to the bartender and then pulling out cash to put in the tip jar. Just because the drinks are expensive doesn’t mean the bartenders are getting a cut.

Generosity is rewarded with quick service and heavy pours, and soon enough you have your drinks in hand so you can wander away to join the quickly growing party. Waiters make their way through the crowds with trays of appetizers and a few people are already making their way out to the dance floor as couples and groups begin to arrive in earnest after dropping their kids off in other parts of campus.

“I don’t see any slimy snails.” He leans in to whisper in your ear, smirking slightly. “So far, so good. But not a pizza roll in sight.”

His breath in your neck makes you shiver unexpectedly and you’re not at all sure you hid it well. “We’ll have to file a complaint with the PTA,” you whisper back.

“What I wouldn’t do for a jalapeño popper.” He groans. “Or a plate of chicken wings.”

“I think we would both just rather be at a sports bar,” you observe, laughing at the obvious difference between that setting and this. “For no other reason than the snacks.”

“Sounds like.” He shrugs, knowing this is for the girls school, so it’s supposed to be a good cause. Just because it’s not his scene doesn’t mean others - you - won’t enjoy it.

"Maybe another time." It's just a thing to say. It's not necessarily an offer, or even a request, just the acknowledgement that you would both enjoy it. And that is enough.

“Yeah?” He’s surprised by that. It sounds like you’d like to go to a sports bar with him.

"I mean..." You could swear there is hope in his voice, and you look up with raised eyebrows. "If you want to? I mean stuff like this is beautiful once in a while but...I don't know. I think you can only go to these things all the time if you're fancy at heart. And I'm pretty sure that I'm comfy at heart."

“Comfy.” He chuckles at the way you describe yourself. “There’s this place I go to where the girls can come too.” He tells you. “Great potato skins and they love the fried pickles.”

“Yeah?” This time it’s your voice that holds hope, like he could actually be wanting to spend time with you and not just because your daughters are best friends.

“Mister York.” The excited tone of voice makes him wince slightly, turning to find the headmistress of the school barreling towards the two of you. She is the only one that knows that Dave wired the payment for the year for both girls directly, so he’s sure she’s hoping to lighten his pockets considerably. “So glad you could make it!”

“Whoops,” you mutter under your breath, obviously implying that avoiding this woman for the night is now a goal that cannot be met. There’s no reason Janice Harritt would want to speak to you, especially at a fundraiser, so you smile politely but aren’t surprised when she can’t manage to summon your name right away despite Marnie having attended her school for four years.

“Mister York.” Despite the smarmy tone, he sees the way her eyes flicker over his scar and there is a slight bobble to her throat where she swallows slightly before her hawkishly charming smile is plastered on. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She asks, obviously fishing for compliments as she gestures around. “The food is incredible. And the bar is stocked. What more could you ask for tonight?” She asks, looking back at him for approval.

Dave is an asshole. He knows this, and he’s quite proud of it most times. He sticks his tongue in his cheek and represses a grin. “Pizza rolls.” He answers seriously.

You snort, unable to contain the sound, and cover your face with one hand immediately to try to cover it with a small cough. A cough which isn’t really fooling anyone, but at least you manage to hide the fact that you’re trying not to laugh.

“I’m…sorry?” Harritt’s eyes betray her confusion, but she plays it off with a laugh. “Perhaps next year, hmm? We look forward to many years with your delightful girls, of course.”

“Of course.” Since he’s thrown her off kilter so badly, she quickly rushes off, calling out to another important parent. Leaving Dave to turn to you and arch a brow. “What did I say?” He asks sarcastically.

"I don't think she even knew the words 'pizza' and 'roll' could go next to each other in a sentence," you laugh, snorting again because you just can't help it.

“And she’s supposed to teach kids?” Dave snorts. “That’s making me question her credentials.”

"I don't think she's set foot in a classroom except to scold for a decade." A shrug of your shoulders is casual enough, but you're relaxed with Dave. Even if your belly is fluttering like a teenager with a crush, that's still more relaxed than you are most of the time. "Headmistress, remember?"

He rolls his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah yeah.” He grumbles. “Best leaders get their hands dirty.”

“I couldn’t agree more. But people like that are rarely into getting their hands dirty.”

“Very true.” He points over to a table. “Want to sit or do you want to mingle?” He asks, sure that if you want to go your own way, you would.

"Honestly?" The impulse to just tell him the truth comes out of left field, but it's there and it's strong. So you have another sip of liquid courage and offer him a smile. "If you weren't here tonight, I would probably only show my face long enough for it to register with the PTA that I was here, and then I would sneak off and read in my car until the kids' party was over. So mingling is...not in my plan, so to speak."

“No to mingling.” He nods, feeling a little proud of the fact that you would want to spend time with him. “Since we’re being honest, I have a question for you.” He sees you frown in confusion. “You don’t seem afraid of me? Why?”

"Why would I be afraid of you?" You ask honestly, not at all understanding at first. About two seconds after the question is out of your mouth, the realization dawns on you and you wave one hand to brush the question away. "Because of the scar? I just...I might be wrong, but I just assumed you might have been military? My uncle had a nasty limp and burn scars from Iraq. So I didn't--I guess I didn't really think about it after the first assumption. Which I now realize is stupid, because we always teach kids not to assume, but I did."

“I was in the military.” He acknowledges that. “Got out when a building collapsed with my team inside.” He chuckles, “but that didn’t cause this.” He tells you, gesturing to his face. “You just never seemed to be intimidated by my silence or the fact that I have resting asshole face.”

"Well...?" Taking another sip from your drink, you step up to a high top table just big enough for two when he steers you toward it and set both your glass and purse down comfortably. "You've always been nice to me, and you're sweet to Marnie. That's all that matters to me."

“She’s a good kid.” Dave assures you. He wouldn’t have let that friendship blossom if he thought she wasn’t.

"She's the best thing I've ever done." His commendation will stay close to your heart and you wouldn't mind admitting that at all. "And she has great taste in best friends."

“Alice is amazing.” He agrees, biased and not even a little ashamed of it. “Marnie is right there with her. Smart and compassionate. Honest to a fault sometimes.”

"I always told her that being completely honest was better than fibbing even a little. So...yeah. That one is my fault."

“That’s not a bad thing for now.” Dave chuckles. “Although sometimes you have to fib.”

"Well, sure." You chuckle along with him. "But I don't want to teach her that. They're still so young."

“They are. However, they are smarter than us already.” He snorts.

"I know, it's crazy." It's just so damn easy with him. Easy to stand together and drink and laugh. It's so easy that neither of you notice the party has been going on around you for quite some time while you have just been focused entirely on each other.

It’s getting later. Ever so often, the DJ will announce the time between songs and all the parents are getting more and more intoxicated as the drinks flow from the bar.

Smiling waiters with trays of hors d’oeuvres give way to a buffet of fine food, and Dave insists you indulge in a second drink if you want it, after you spent literal hours nursing the first.

Dave switches to Coke, the real crime here being that he still has to use a full drink ticket to get a half a glass of the soft drink. He doesn’t grumble, but it’s a little ridiculous, but glances over at you to see if you want a new drink.

Taking him at his insistence, you order a second gin and tonic and decide that that will be the last alcoholic drink of the night. Relaxing is one thing, but you have no desire for Dave to see you sloppy or out of control. He seems to appreciate maturity and intelligence, and you’d prefer he doesn’t see you any other way.

Now that the drinks are acquired, he leans in. “Shall we go see what they have on the buffet?” He asks. “I’m getting hungry and they have to have something good.”

“Let’s go find out.” You swear if he leaned in and breathed in your ear like that every time he made a request, you would jump off a damn bridge or something. Going to get food is the least of it.

He can’t stop putting his hand on your lower back. You look gorgeous and he’s noticed more than one discreet glance towards you. Appraisal by the women and approval by the men. For now, you are with him and he is more than a little happy about that fact. You are charming, kind, you love your daughter with your entire being.

“Same things as always.” Which is not bad, considering the food around here is excellent and the school inevitably chooses the same well-regarded caterer. At least this year there seem to be better vegetarian options for the few parents that apply to. You choose your entree and your sides by what is likely to cause the least mess — your velvet dress would not do well with a sauce spill — and before too long you and Dave are headed back to your little table with dinner in hand.

“They should do a Mac and cheese bar.” He knows his tastes have assimilated to the tastes of his kids, but it would be good. “That could also be classy.”

“Oohhh, I should make mac and cheese for dinner tomorrow.” The idea makes you light up, even more than the first bite of your dinner. “Marnie had cauliflower with cheese sauce at her grandmother’s and now I can actually get a veggie into her mac and cheese.”

“Add some carrots in there too.” He chuckles. “Tell her it’s extra cheesy.”

“Sneaky,” you commend with obvious admiration. “I’m going to have to try that.”

“Gotta be.” He snorts. “Sometimes I think I’m fighting for my life with both of them ganging up on me.”

“My ex used to claim that’s why he only wanted one,” you shrug and fork up another bite of your food. “He was already outnumbered with me and Marnie.”

“It was three against one in my former household.” He flashes you a sardonic grin. “I didn’t get my way often.”

“I think that’s what he was afraid of.” And after dipping into your second cocktail, you add, “Probably why he ran off with his secretary. She always did what he told her.”

“So he’s one of those assholes.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna say I never looked. I’ve got eyes.” He huffs. “But I don’t need my ego or anything else stroked by someone hoping for a raise. Especially when I was married.”

“Everybody looks,” you reason, knowing you had too from time to time. But you never would have acted. Never. “That’s completely different.”

“It is.” He sighs. “What kind of fucking example is that for your kids? ‘Hey it’s okay to fuck around on your partner’.” He curls his lip, making his thoughts on the idea perfectly clear.

“I’m lucky.” That’s something you know completely. “I didn’t have any of the agony of being aware while it was going on. It blindsided me, I got divorced, and I got Marnie. It could have been so much worse.”

“Want me to kill him for you?” It’s posed as a joke, since you have no clue that Dave is actually capable of doing it.

That draws an unexpected laugh out of you, pushing out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and you pick up your glass again to sip. “Ask me that question a year ago and I might have said yes,” you admit. “But I’m okay now. Though I do appreciate the sentiment. What about the former Mrs. York? Does she need taking care of?” Not that you ever could, but the joke seems soothing in an off kilter way.

“Not worth it.” He grunts, although he had thought about it. In the end, as long as she kept her mouth shut, she kept breathing.

“As long as they stay away, they can do whatever,” you say, guessing he feels the same way as you.

“I’ll drink to that.” Dave raises his coke to tap against the rim of your glass and takes a sip. “Hopefully the new year is our year, huh?”

“Maybe so.” The gentle ching of glass against glass is musical. A bit romantic, if you want to pretend that way. No matter what, the thought of anything being yours — for you and Dave — makes your face burn. “Hopefully.”

The two of you eat and while the duck is tender, the roast beef is a little dry for Dave’s taste. Talking easily like you have all night until the plates are pushed away and there’s only minutes left until the clock strikes midnight. “Wanna dance?” Dave asks, glancing back at you after looking at the floor filled with couples.

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. As stoic as he is, you had kind of assumed at this point that Dave was not a dancing kind of guy.

“Why? Do you not want to?” He asks, wondering if your heels are bothering you, or if you just don’t want to dance with him.

"What? No, no, I absolutely want to." It takes you a second but you shake off the surprise and move away from the table. "I just didn't think you would want to."

He huffs and reaches out to offer you his hand. “I’m not stupid.” He teases. “Dancing with a pretty lady would be a stupid thing to turn down.”

That isn't the first time tonight that he's called you pretty, and every single time you feel like your whole being is instantly set on fire from the compliment. "Some men just don't like to dance," you excuse. "I didn't want to assume."

“And those men are idiots.” He walks you out onto the dance floor and turns to pull you close. “It’s an excuse to hold a woman close and move with her.” He rumbles softly.

There is no damn way in the world that he missed your eyelashes fluttering at that light growl in his voice, not with as close as he's holding you, and you clear your throat slightly out of pure nerves. "I guess I never thought of it like that."

There’s a part of him that wonders if you would be this flustered if you knew what he was in a previous life. If you knew the marks that are on his soul. It’s at that moment, his leg decides to buckle and he stumbles slightly, tightening his hold on you, but he recovers quickly with just a quiet curse. “Sorry.”

"Are you okay?" You panic a little but hold onto him tightly, not letting him fall or even really lose his balance except for momentarily. There was one time that he came to pick up Alice from your place that you saw a handicapped placard in his car and a cane on the seat next to him so you're not totally surprised. It is the first time you've seen it in action though.

Dave has the decency to look embarrassed, although the reason why he nearly tripped still pisses him off. “Yeah.” He grunts. “Muscle weakness.” He explains quietly.

"We don't have to dance," you offer gently, not wanting to make him feel guilty but also not wanting him to put undue stress on his leg.

“No, I’m fine.” He insists. “It’s good for me to work the muscles.” He doesn’t let go of you, wanting to dance as the clock counts down to midnight.

"I'll keep you steady." It's almost too quiet when you say it, but he's close enough to catch it and you smile when the corner of his mouth turns up, too.

“My hero.” He teases softly, looking at you in true amazement. You are just naturally considerate and that surprises him.

"Oh hush." Teasing goes both ways, of course, and you're perfectly tickled that he would initiate it even a little. "It's the least I can do."

The two of you start to slowly dance again, fitting the music that is being played. It is not the heavy party music that might be in a New Year’s party for younger people, but this is intimate. Sensual.

It's so easy to sink into. Into the intimacy of the moment that could so easily be mistaken for romance. It's sweet. And gentle. And Dave's face rests at something far away from asshole right now.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the New Year’s countdown.” The DJ announces, making Dave smirk slightly as he tugs you closer.

Your heart does a little leap up into your throat that makes your whole chest ache, and you have to remind yourself that New Year’s kisses are for the young. They’re not for middle aged divorcees at their kids’ school fundraisers.

“Ten, nine!” Dave watches as you join the countdown. Eyes floating around the room and coming back to him. The two of you are still clinging to one another. “Eight, seven!”

It's too much of a fantasy for you to not let your gaze drift to his lips, even if you avert your eyes immediately. "Six, five!" Your stupid heart is pounding like anything could ever matter, and the room seems to slow down around you.

He notices, he’s noticed every little thing about you tonight. He sees the way your eyes touch his lips and it makes him grasp you just a little tighter. “Four, three, two!” Right before the room shouts ‘One!’ Dave ducks his head down and captures your lips in a kiss.

A half-squeak, half-gasp shakes from you but you're too absorbed in returning the unexpected kiss to even really register that you've made a sound. It may be chaste and relatively quick, but it's still better than half the other damn kisses you've had in your lifetime, and by the time Dave pulls back a few seconds later you feel like it's your legs about to give out this time.

“Happy New Year!” Dave pulls back to make sure that you didn’t object, only to find you looking completely bemused and he smirks slightly before he leans in again to claim your lips.

This time the sound is most definitely a moan when it comes out of you, and you cling a little more desperately as your arms wind around him and he deepens the kiss. You feel dizzy and disoriented, but in the most dreamlike way possible, and if it ever stops it will be far too soon.

You cling to him, making him deepen the kiss. One hand coming up to cup your jaw and encourage you to open up for him. Sliding his tongue inside your mouth when you yield.

The whole room has dissolved around you. The other dancing couples, the upbeat party music, the noise and the lights and everything in between. There is nothing else anywhere except Dave York kissing you, and the fact that you've been harboring this fantasy for months without ever thinking it could go anywhere. When it's finally necessary to breathe again -- what a nuisance -- you have to take another second with your eyes closed just in case the whole thing has been a dream.

“Happy New Year.” Dave whispers, smiling at the way you still have your eyes closed. As if you are dreaming.

“Happy New Year.” Hearing that he’s still there — still real — gives you enough courage to actually open your eyes. Like some kind of miracle, his arms are tight around you and his lips are swollen plush from sharing a kiss.

******

“We have strawberries, blueberries, chocolate chips, pecans, whipped cream and those little marshmallow things. Molly wants those and chocolate chips in hers.” Dave rattles off as he pours the batter onto the hot waffle iron. “What would you like?” He turns towards the older two girls to get their orders as they sit at the bar in their pajamas.

"Strawberries and chocolate and pecans, please, Mr. York?" Marnie sits up at the bar with her legs dangling on her stool and hot cocoa clutched in her little hands. The party had been so much fun and the girls are still all chattering away this morning. She's dreading being picked up to go home, just because she hates being away from Alice. Those two girls have been attached at the hip since they met.

"Can I have blueberries and chocolate chips, Daddy?" Alice asks, knowing that adding a fruit will increase the likelihood of her father saying yes. "And whipped cream?"

“Anything you girls want.” Dave chuckles at the surprised look on his eldest daughter’s face. He shooks her a wink. “It’s a new year. The first day should be the best one so far.” He starts to add the chocolate and mini dried marshmallows to this waffle for Molly. “I’ll fix them all exactly how you like them.” He promises. “Anyone want eggs?”

“Do we have bacon, Daddy?”

You can hear Molly’s little voice from the other end of the hall as you creep down the back stairs. You had left the party separately from Dave and the girls last night, shooting back over to your house for a change of clothes and arriving at the York’s house a little after the girls had been put to bed.

Dave hadn’t waited too long to put you to bed either, and now you’re sneaking out like a teenager trying not to get caught by your boyfriend’s parents.

Dave tilts his head as he hears you. The girls don’t, but they also haven’t been trained to listen for unusual sounds. “We sure do, baby.” He hums. “Do you want some?” She nods eagerly and both Alice and Marnie quickly agree that they would want some bacon. “Let me get it on a pan.”

Out through the back door that goes into the garage, out the side door of the garage, and over to your car, you pop the bag that you brought a change of clothes in -- and now contains your dress and heels from last night's party -- into the trunk. That leaves you with just your purse on your arm but you tug on your coat and tie the waist to make it look like you're just arriving. And then, with flare, you slam the driver's side door of your car shut and walk up to his front door to ring the bell.

Immediately Alice and Marnie are groaning, not wanting to be separated so early. “Quit fussing.” He chuckles. “I invited your mom over for waffles this morning.” He explains to Marnie. He technically isn’t lying, he’s just not telling them that you spent the night in his bed last night. “Alice, watch the waffle, I’ll get the door.”

"Okay!" Delighted not to be separated so early, Alice pops up from her stool to stare intently at the waffle machine while her dad walks out to the hall in his pajamas.

Dave pads to the door, opening it quickly. “Fancy seeing you here.” He teases as he opens the door and drags you close for a quick kiss.

"Weird, right?" A little giggle bubbles out of you, and you steal another kiss, even boldly dragging your fingers through his short hair like you now know he loves. A second later, you add, "I'm not late, am I?" with more volume.

“Right on time.” He winks and squeezes your ass before he pulls away from you. “How was your night?” He asks, loud enough for the girls to hear. “The girls went to bed and I was quickly behind them.”

"Oh, same." The fake airiness in your voice is borderline laughable, but thankfully the girls are young enough that you would be absolutely shocked if they picked up on anything. "I was ready for bed right after the party. What a late night."

“Yes it was.” There’s only a little heat to his words and he manages to suppress the smirk by the time the two of you walk into the kitchen. It had been an amazing night if he had to judge. “You want some coffee? I have a fresh pot.”

"That sounds great." You're dying for a cup, if you're honest, but you set your purse on a chair as you walk into the kitchen and drape your coat over the back along with it. "Did you girls have a good night?"

The girls immediately start to chatter to you, leaving Dave to plate up the waffle and set the bacon in the oven to bake before he gets out another coffee cup for you.

They tell you about the weird music that got played, the food they ate and the games they played. How Courtney Schofield finally got told off by the girls she's been bullying and how Bobby Thornrite got a bloody nose because he tripped over his untied shoe and went face first into the boy in front of him.

Dave watches you with the girls as he starts on Marnie’s waffle next. Pouring syrup on Molly’s although he knows that she will want to wait until the older girls eat. It’s heartwarming to see how they enjoy talking to you. Basking in your attention.

"So I was wondering..." Leaning against the counter with the girls, you sip your coffee and try not to look over at Dave too often because you know you'll end up a giddy mess if you do. "If you girls wanted to just move this sleepover on over to our house tonight? We can watch movies and make popcorn and have some tacos for dinner?" You and Dave had bounced the idea around before you got out of bed this morning, figuring the girls would be ecstatic to keep hanging out and it would enable you and him to be able to spend the day together. A winning situation for everyone, as far as you're concerned.

Dave winces as the girls immediately start to screech in joy and excitement. Bouncing around the kitchen like Tasmanian devils and hugging each other like they’ve won the lottery. “I think that’s a yes.” He tells you dryly.

"Okay you two, okay." You can't help but laugh. They're such sweet kids and Molly is very nearly as excited as the older two. "Breakfast first, huh? And then we'll help Mr. York clean up the kitchen before we go switch houses. Does that sound like a deal?"

“Everybody is having a waffle and bacon.” He reminds them. “Then we brush our teeth, right? No cavities.”

"Right!" Chorus back all three girls, who could not be more thrilled with the way this morning is going.

Dave grins as he continues to make waffles. It was a great start to the New Year.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

[nohoney]

Bakugou would listen to you rant all about work. Even though he’s the one out on the streets with more exciting stories to tell, one of his favorite things is to hear you talk about your own work. He follows and nods along with whatever work story you have for him for the day, always attentive but never telling you what you should do to handle it (as he had learned from a prior relationship).

“I can tell he fuckin’ hates me, you know?” You continue on about your current work events as you sit on the countertop and watch Bakugou cut vegetables, “He keeps on bringing up my old manager as if she has anything to do with it now. Like, no motherfucker! You answer to me now and I’m saying pay your stupid invoice!”

The vegetables for dinner are set aside while the oven is still preheating. Two pieces of pork chop are taken from the fridge and is set aside on a clean plate as Bakugou looks for spices to rub into the meat. “So what happened baby? Did he pay? Y’said you were dealing with this for almost two weeks.” He asks you, genuinely curious if your annoying client is actually complying with you. The thought in his head is wondering how you handled it.

“I have to read you this email that I wrote. I gotta say the professional ways of dissing someone in email is something I finally understand now.” You laugh as you pull up your work email on your phone. Word for word you read out your well thought out response to your difficult client, not backing down and upholding work policy as you are expected to. Bakugou had never really bothered with any type of skill of being professional through communication in his job; it’s what his team is for while he gets the really privilege to cuss as he pleases and have his team handle it for the public. “Here is how I signed off, I think it’s probably my most eloquent and business-like ‘fuck you’ I’ve written so far.”

You clear your throat first before reading aloud, “‘I hope that the explanations of how to navigate your account has cleared up any confusion you may have and that you are able to move forward in compliance with our company policy, if you have any further questions then please let me know.’ God I know he’s going to hate me as soon as he reads it!”

He chuckles, happy that you know how to stand your ground in such a manner that Bakugou knows he struggles in. “You tell him, baby.”

“I fucking did Katsuki!” You boast with a proud little smile as you hop off the countertop and go to his side as he heats oil in a pan. “Sorry, I’ve been going on about this annoying client for a while. I wanna hear about your work today Tsuki.”

Bakugou shakes his head though and urges you to talk about what else happened at your work. The meat sizzles as he presses it into the pan, crackling and sizzling in a way that’s reminiscent of his quirk but to a much lower degree. The oven beeps to indicate that preheating is finished and you move to put all the vegetables into the glass pan and stick it in for him, already setting a timer before he can even ask. “What about that other guy? The one who keeps on saying that he’s getting investors so he wants to make you wait a little longer?” He asks you when he recalls another client you complained of a few days ago.

You excitedly pop off about your work again, unknowing how you calm Bakugou down with your own work stories. Your series of responsibilities that he wouldn’t know the first clue how to handle are interesting to him to hear how you handle yourself. It’s simple compared to what he does but in no way is it easy either. To see you struggle sometimes with your own career wasn’t easy for him but you were also strong enough to handle it all the same.

And he liked to think that he made it easy for you to handle because he wanted to hear anything and everything about your job that’s so different from his. “Tell me about the parking permits, did that get solved yet?” He asks as he starts to set food on the plates.

“No! I’m on week three of dealing with it and it’s ridiculous! I sent everything in so early and they deal with it so late!!”

Bakugou listens with a happy heart to hear you talk, never wanting you to apologize over the things that frustrate you. And by the end of your rants, even he feels a little lighter as he readies to get in bed with you.

And the next day as he’s just about to enter a meeting in his agency, Bakugou gets a text from you.

[1:57 pm] omg i need to tell you what this mofo emailed me when we’re home

He looks forward to it, letting a little smile come onto his face. He can see you all cute and puffed up and mad, and he can’t wait to hear about it.

[1:58 pm] can’t wait baby. love you.

You text him back within seconds.

[1:58 pm] love you!!!

Bakugou can’t wait to be home and listen to you.

[bakugo-softski]

In which Izuku is left quirkless, so they find a new reason

Katsuki stayed crouched above Izuku, pinning one arm with his foot and clasping the other, pressed to the floor of the training mat. Almost in an exact replica of their fight at ground beta all those months ago, minus one arm and a slight change in hand placement. They both stay like that, breathing heavily, staring into eachothers eyes with the mutual feeling of impending doom sat heavily between them.

Because Izuku was getting weaker.

Katsuki had noticed, though he tried his best to ignore it. They both did, afraid to speak it into reality. Afraid for their dynamic to change. But as Katsuki had an easier and easier time pinning Izuku, as the embers slowly died out, they both found it hard to ignore that this…whatever it was they had, was coming to an end. Katsuki felt frantic, empty. Watching as something dear died before him, completely out of his reach.

Izuku had resolved to accept his fate, his eventuality. He didn’t mind being quirkless again. The loss held between them came from a different place, and they both knew it.

“…Kacchan?” Sad. So sad.

Katsuki released his hold and stood up, before offering Izuku his hand to help the boy up, too. They stood in silence, Izuku still breathing heavily and looking embarrassed about it, unable to find the words to express what they both clearly wanted to say to eachother.

“I’ll make katsudon tonight.” A common condolence when Izuku suffered yet another decline in power. It seemed now that one for all was gone for good, the embers inside izuku were dying at an increased rate than what All Might had gone through. The embers seemed to die at a steady rate regardless if Izuku used OFA or not. When they’d realized, they’d fought eachother deep into the night, openly crying at eachother and throwing punches. A silent agreement they’d do this as often as they could, until they couldn’t anymore.

This.. felt like a goodbye. Katsuki stared into Izuku’s eyes and felt like he was at a funeral.

“…okay. Thank you, Kacchan.”

With one last look into Izuku’s eyes, Katsuki turned and walked out, Izuku staying behind to put distance between them. To give eachother space. Katsuki managed to stifle the sob caught in his throat till he made it onto the elevator.

.

.

.

Katsuki poked the pork frying in the pan on autopilot. In his head, he thumbed through the same stack of thoughts sitting heavily in his mind like clockwork. He felt lost, weak, trapped. Condemned to a fate he had no control over. They wouldn’t be able to keep sparring. Izuku had stopped being able to keep up with catch-a-kacchan months ago, and they had been staying ground-level for a while but they both knew even that was too much for him now. The embers were barely even there anymore.

Katsuki hadn’t seen Izuku since he’d left him at the gym. They hadn’t texted eachother, either. What would they even say? There weren’t words. Katsuki didn’t have the words.

At this, Izuku makes his first appearance in hours, to slink into the kitchen and stand beside Katsuki. He’s silent for a moment.

“…Can i help?”

Katsuki is relieved those were the words that came out of Izuku’s mouth, instead of..well.

He lets out a little breath of relief.

“Sure. Grab the egg, mirin and soy sauce for me.” Mix those together-equal parts, four eggs, and chop some of those green onions while you’re at it.”

“Got it.” Izuku flits around the kitchen grabbing ingredients and settling again beside Katsuki, beginning his task.

They don’t know how to bring it up, but the silence is somehow comfortable, each settling in to their tasks, accomplishing the same goal of katsudon together. Katsuki can’t say it, but he’s thankful to have a reason to be near Izuku like this. Even if it is just making a meal together. They don’t say much else, afraid to break whatever fragile comfort they’d created.

They ate in silence. And then stared into space together, in silence. And then Katsuki said he’d wash their dishes, and then Izuku left, in silence; and Katsuki wished he’d asked for help instead.

.

.

.

10:24pm.

Katsuki stared into the dark, in silence. Thought about texting Izuku. Couldn’t find the words.

.

.

.

It’s Saturday. Katsuki came down to make breakfast. Hoped to see Izuku, but he didn’t show. Thought about taking the food to him, put it in the fridge instead.

.

.

.

4:24pm. He’d stayed in the common room the whole day, but Izuku never showed, and Katsuki couldn’t find the words to give him a reason to seek the boy out. What could he even say? “You haven’t eaten all day.” ? As if. How stupid for Katsuki to care about that when…when he couldn’t even..

Fuck it. A reasons a reason, he supposes.

Katsuki sped through the curry prep, in a hurry to get it to Izuku’s door and tell him he hasn’t eaten all day. With two steaming bowls held on a dish platter, because he didn’t want his to get cold while he ate alone, he marched his way up to Izuku’s room and knocked firm, once, twice, and waited.

Izuku opened the door quickly, and Katsuki saw he was in a similar shape to himself, dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t slept either.

“You haven’t eaten.” An observation, a request, a plea.

Izuku looked at the bowls, took one. Stood in the doorway, awkward.

At the same time Katsuki makes to turn away, Izuku speaks up. “Do you want to come in? You just, you have two bowls. You don’t have to…but. Um. I’d like you to.”

His response was immediate. “Yeah.” A breath, a small relief. A break from the pain.

They both settle down on Izuku’s bed to eat, backs against the wall. Close, even if neither one of them acknowledged it. They didn’t speak. Until,

“Um. So, theres a show I started a couple days ago. Do..you wanna watch it with me?” Izuku digs around for the remote. Kacchan grunts for him to go ahead, so he turns it on from the beginning and they settle back in to eating, watching together.

.

.

.

8:52pm.

They’re on episode five now, bowl’s of curry empty and forgotten on the floor beside the bed. They’ve pulled Izuku’s blanket up over their legs and are zoned into the show, a merciful relief. A reason. Katsuki hides his yawns as subtly as he can, and Izuku pretends not to notice.

They both pretend not to notice when Katsuki subtly shifts further into the bed, afraid to break the spell. They’re both tired enough to not think about it.

.

.

.

6:46am.

Katsuki blinks his eyes open and finds the clock on the wall that doesn’t belong to him, and then feels legs that also don’t belong to him entangled with his own. He can’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed about it. Izuku is sleeping peacefully, soft snores and breaths coming out in little puffs, one hand resting peacefully on his chest and the other holding Katsuki’s forearm, which was sat snuggly against the curve of Izukus side, being held in place in the air. Katsuki didn’t dare move. The TV sat dark and paused on the wall, long forgotten. He’d have to check to see when they both fell asleep so they knew how far back to go, he thought idly. A problem for later, though.

He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

.

.

.

When he woke back up Izuku was silencing his phone, his ringtone for Uraraka being cut short and detangling his legs from Katsuki’s in order to stand up from the bed.

“We uh...we fell asleep last night.”

“…Yeah.” A yawn.

“The show’s good. Whats the last part you remember? We’re probably gonna have to find where we left off.”

“Oh uh, i think..the new guy, the blonde one had just fought with that guy in the boat restaurant. I think he was gonna leave.”

“Huh? The last thing I remember is whats her name and whats his face playing some drinking game.”

A chuckle. “I’ll go back and find our spot tonig-when we-um. Anyway. I’m..I’m glad you liked it, Kacchan.”

“I’ll come back tonight. And we can watch more.” Small reliefs. Small reliefs, small reliefs.

A smile, small, shared. “I’d like that.”

Silence.

“So. Um. It’s..it’s Sunday.”

Sundays they typically spent the whole day in the gym, sparring, being in each others company. Katsuki didn’t get much physically from their sparring sessions these days, they both knew it. They seemed to be at an understanding though, of what they got from their Sundays together.

Suddenly, Katsuki had a thought. The words are out of his mouth before he can think better of them, eager to run from the conversation he so badly feared having.

“Lets go play some fucking baseball, Zuku.”

Izuku’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks funny like that, Katsuki thinks. It makes his stomach do a weird little flip that he usually only felt in the heat of the moment during their fights and sparring sessions, back when Izuku was at full strength. The feeling puts a surprised little crease between his own brows.

“…hah..what?” Izuku’s smiling, confused.

Katsuki keeps going, fueled by the quick return of the feeling he hasn’t felt in months, replacing the impending doom.

“C’mon, nerd, let’s go to the batting cages back home and play some fucking baseball. Maybe we can stop at your moms and say hi or something while we’re out.”

Silence. But..different this time. Better. Expectant.

Izuku huffs out a little laugh, relief of some sort.

“Yeah, Kacchan, that sounds good.”

It does sound good, Katsuki thinks.

.

.

.

“Hold your fucking arms higher, nerd!”

“Shuddup! I know how to hit a ball, Kacchan!”

“Getting cocky? Since when do you talk back to me you little shit?” Katsuki hasn’t felt this much like himself in months.

“You make it easy being such a know-it-all, Kacchan.”

“I’m a know-it-all, because i know it all, you little asshole. Don’t you patronize me.”

They’re both laughing, and Izuku is trying his best to hit the baseballs flying towards him in between snorts of laughter and playful banter. It’s so easy like this. Katsuki had imagined the day Izuku’s ember’s went out a million times, he imagined it like death, but this didn’t feel like death at all. This felt like..the birth of something new.

Then, suddenly,

“Lemme show you how it’s done, nerd.”

Izuku backs up and turns to hand Katsuki the bat but Izuku misinterpreted what he meant, because Katsuki turns him back around and comes up behind him with his hands on his shoulders.

“Pick your arm up dummy, higher, angle it like this, you want to meet the ball at the same angle its coming at you.” Katsuki takes Izukus arm and imitates hitting the ball the way he wants him to, and then pushes Izuku forward again. Izuku is weirdly quiet, now.

“Try it like that. And don’t be pissed when it’s better than your way.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Kacchan.”

*CRACK*

“…Fine. Don’t be rude about it, though. You’re still a know-it-all.”

Katsuki can’t contain his shit eating grin, and that feeling in his gut is back with a vengeance.

“There’s a reason for that, Zuku.”

.

.

.

Inko was delighted at the unexpected visit, flitting around to whip something up for the two and offering apologies for not having more ready for them both. In the end, they’d eaten curry for the second day in a row, but neither of them commented on it, happy to be in Inko’s company, happy to see Izuku happy. Eventually they’d thanked Inko and ushered themselves off into Izuku’s bedroom for a while before they went back to UA.

Izuku was pulling All Might merch and knick knacks out of every corner of the room, handing them to Katsuki along with stories and “do you remembers” and Katsuki felt overwhelmed. The feeling in his stomach only grew the longer the day went on and he found it harder and harder to keep the stupid, easy grin off his face. He felt so happy it almost felt wrong.

“Ah! kacchan! Do you remember when we drew these!”

They were two sheets of paper, one, in big letters, labeled “KACCHAN”, punctuated by tiny explosions in between each letter, and the other, “IZUKU” written neatly, simply across the top of the page. Underneath each name was a drawing to match, the both of them drawn in crayon as heroes, in gear that hadn’t quite matched up with what they’d grown accustomed to.

Katsuki took the papers from Izuku and stared, and stared, and stared, and only snapped out of it when a single tear drop hit the page.

And then it happened again. He spoke without meaning to.

“I don’t want to go back to the way we were before, Izuku. I-i don’t even care that we can’t spar anymore. I don’t care about that. I just-i wanna keep hanging out with you. I don’t care what what we do. I just-“ he was shaking, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He’d feared this conversation, so.. why did this feel like relief too?

Katsuki just let himself cry, tiny sobs crawling the way into their atmosphere.

He looked up through wet lashes just in time to see Izuku launch himself into his arms, throwing him back into the bed and burying his face into Katsuki’s neck, sobbing with all the intensity Katsuki felt in his soul.

“I wanna be with you too, Kachhan, always, always. I-i..just want-to be around you...”

Katsuki wraps his arms around Izuku and lets the relief wash over him. Katsuki doesn’t know what compelled him to say it.

“I love you.”

Silence.

Izuku pulls back just enough to look into Katsuki’s eyes. His heart is hammering in his chest, stunned speechless, and as Izuku searches Katsuki’s face he feels the boys breathing become panicked, coming out in short puffs verging on hyperventilation. Katsuki barely opens his mouth to take it back, to unscare Izuku when he seemingly realizes this and smashes their lips together in an effort to stop him.

It’s sudden, scared, mutual. Blissful.

It takes Katsuki all of two seconds to come back online and fit his hand into Izuku’s hair in an effort to keep him there, and returns the kiss in full. Izuku grunts out a little sound that seems pained but somehow matches that feeling in his own gut, swirling and verging on the side of too much too much too much

They break the kiss at the same time, leaping away from eachother and doubling over themselves, anxiously giggling against their will and breathing heavily. Izuku leaps to his feet and starts pacing, muttering all the while, energy buzzing within him with the same intensity as one-for-all and Katsuki feels it seep into everything, feels his limbs buzz, heart racing, mind running a mile a minute and somehow not at all.

“Ahhaah, AHHH, Kacch-i love you, FUCK I love you, holy-sh-shit, holy shit, oh my god. kachhhANNNN OH MY GOD.”

Izuku’s yelling and Katsuki finally yanks himself out of his shock to speak up just in time for Izuku to run out of the room screaming.

“Hey-what the FUCK, IZ-get back here!” And then he’s off the bed too and running out the door behind him, leaving a stunned and confused Inko sat on the couch.

.

.

.

Katsuki catches up to him already at the bus station, pacing circles around the bench, laughing and crying hysterically. He catches a glimpse of Katsuki right as he stalks up to him and grabs Izuku’s arm.

“Caught you.” He grins triumphantly, and so, so happy, and doesn’t even give Izuku the chance to respond before he captures the boys lips again.

Relief.

[feyburner]

hiii, do you have any good fall recipe recs? sweet or savoury I don’t mind I just regard you as a cooking god and am looking for inspiration

Yes! Here is my current To Make list.

Many I’ve made before and some are recipes I want to try.

I’m linking specific recipes just bc I’m copy pasting from my own list. Sorry for all the instagram reels, you can just google the name of the thing and find it.

I’m going apple picking with my friends sometime in early October so I’m already planning all the apple things I want to make 🤤🍎

And Friendsgiving… so many pies…

SWEET

- French Apple Cake/German Apple Cake

- Apple Tarte Tatin

- Apple Crunch Tart/“The Best Apple Tart in Paris”

- My auntie’s date pecan bread, one of my favorite quickbreads of all time. Yes you are reading that ingredient list correctly. This is for real fruit & nut enjoyers only. If you can’t play with the big boys go home.

- Pumpkin Bread

- Pumpkin Pie (I use the Libby’s recipe but double the cinnamon & ginger, brown sugar instead of white, 1 extra egg, and add 1 tsp vanilla, 1/2 tsp cardamom, 1/4 tsp nutmeg, a few cracks of black pepper, and lemon or orange zest. AND let the filling chill in the fridge overnight!!)

- Sweet Potato Pie (my own recipe, I’ll put under the cut)

- Pecan Pie (same)

- Cinnamon Roll Focaccia/Pumpkin Cinnamon Swirl Sourdough

- Orange Cardamom Olive Oil Cake

- Pear Almond Tart (Tarte Bourdaloue)

SAVORY

- Arayes (made already, so good)

- Crispy Pork Scallion Buns

- Coconut Curry Butternut Squash Sheet Pan Soup (+ Any Vegetable Sheet Pan Soup)

- Veggie Filo Crinkle Cake

- Peanut Noodle Soup

- Fall Squash Galette/Butternut Squash & Caramelized Onion Galette

- Crispy Parmesan Carrots

- Garam Masala Roasted Carrots

- Zucchini Cornbread

- Homemade (sourdough?) pizza with roasted butternut or kabocha squash, goat cheese, figs, caramelized onions

- My dad’s red beans and rice :)

- Spicy Korean Fried Chicken

- Potato Tart with Zucchini & Feta

- Thai Red Curry Dumpling Soup

- Channa Masala

MY RECIPES:

SWEET POTATO PIE

MAKES: 1 x 8-9” pie

INGREDIENTS

1 ½ lbs sweet potatoes (2-3 potatoes) (3 cups flesh), whole, to be roasted

1 x 12 oz can evaporated milk

1 cup (200g) dark brown sugar

2 eggs

5 Tbsp (70g) butter, melted

1 Tbsp lemon zest (zest of 1 lemon)

1 tsp lemon juice

1 Tbsp cinnamon

½ tsp kosher salt

½ tsp ginger

¼ tsp nutmeg

a few cracks (⅛ tsp) freshly ground black pepper

+

1 disc (½ recipe) All-Butter Pie Crust*

*I’ve posted my pie crust recipe on tumblr before tagged “recipes”

DIRECTIONS

1. Roast sweet potatoes: Preheat oven to 400°. Line a baking sheet with foil. Wash and scrub whole sweet potatoes. Pierce potatoes all over 3-5x with paring knife. Roast 45 minutes until fork tender. Let cool, then collect 3 cups flesh.

2. Prepare crust: Roll out pie dough (12-14” diameter circle, ¼” thick). Press into tin and crimp edges. Chill shaped shell in fridge or freezer until ready to use.

3. Preheat oven to 350°.

4. Make filling: Put all ingredients in food processor. Pulse 3-4x until smooth. (You can also use a blender, or simply beat ingredients until fully combined.)

5. Pour filling into pie shell.

6. Bake 45-60 minutes until puffed and firmly set (toothpick clean) everywhere except the very center, which should retain a very slight jiggle (but not look liquid). The center will set as it cools. Start checking at 45 minutes and continue baking at 5 minute intervals until set. (If crust gets too brown, shield edges with foil.)

7. Let cool completely before serving, at least 1 hour.

NOTES

Roast the potatoes whole, in the skins, so the sugars & starches properly caramelize. Do not steam or boil potatoes, even whole. They will take on water and make the filling soggy.

You can roast the potatoes up to 1 week in advance. Collect flesh day of.

PECAN PIE

MAKES: 1 x 8-9” pie

INGREDIENTS

2 cups (250g) chopped pecans

1 cup (200g) dark brown sugar

1 cup light or dark corn syrup

¼ cup (56g) butter

4 eggs

1 Tbsp vanilla

1 tsp kosher salt

1 tsp cinnamon

+

1 disc (½ recipe) All-Butter Pie Crust

DIRECTIONS

1. Prepare shell: Roll out pie dough (12-14” diameter circle, ¼” thick), press into tin, crimp edges. Chill shaped shell in fridge or freezer until ready to use.

2. Preheat oven to 350°.

3. Cook sugar syrup: In a saucepan, bring sugar, corn syrup, and butter to boil over medium heat for 1-2 minutes, whisking constantly, to cook sugar. Take off heat. Let cool slightly, 3 minutes.

4. Temper eggs: In a bowl, beat eggs until lightened and frothy. Slowly, while whisking, pour ½ cup of warm syrup into eggs. Whisk to combine. Then, while whisking, slowly pour egg mixture back into the remaining syrup mixture. Whisk until smooth.

5. Whisk in vanilla, salt, and cinnamon.

6. Pour chopped pecans into bottom of pie shell. Pour filling over pecans.

7. Bake 45-60 minutes until fully set everywhere except the very center, which should retain a very slight jiggle. The center will set as it cools. Start checking at 45 minutes and continue baking at 5 minute intervals until set.

8. Let cool completely before serving, at least 1 hour.

NOTES

Many recipes do not require you to cook the sugar before baking the pie. However, pre-cooking the sugar (and tempering the eggs) ensures the ideal gooey, silky, perfectly smooth texture.

Toast pecans if desired: Arrange pecans in a single layer on a baking sheet and toast in preheated oven 5-8 minutes.

[cas-skz]

Back to you (Crumble pt 2.)

Wooyoung x FEM!reader

| non-idol au | drama/romance | 18+!! |

Weeks apart from Wooyoung and San have effected you mentally and physically. Your travel companion has no luck breaking through to you and with all your energy drained, you pass out. What happens after the hospital will change everything.

[writers note]

THANK YOU SO SO FLIPPIN MUCH!!!! I seriously always feel so touched when I get good feed back & responses. It means a lot & I appreciate your support so so much!!!

I hope this pulls at your heart strings just as much as the first

Tag List: @a-teez-4-exo @ppeachyttae @pearltinyy @yujuvly @kiwimash12 @neteyamandloakisfoine @mayblues @miaatiny

Every part of you felt numb. Your body was heavy and heart shattered. The whole event of last night played through your head over and over again, hurting more each time.

You didn’t want it to be real. You didn’t want San and Wooyoung to be gone.

“Wake up. We’re here.” The males voice came from the front seat.

You sat up to look at your surroundings, a small cabin on a lake front with not much else in sight. To most it would be peaceful, but to you it was hell at the moment.

You took Ella from her car seat, holding her in your lap as you sighed quietly. “Guess we’re here.” You told her, exiting the car.

“Where are we?” You asked the male, who was grabbing the bags from the car.

“Somewhere safe.” He simply replied, motioning for you to follow him to the cabin.

You rolled your eyes at his answer, following inside. It was decent enough, a living room with tv, the kitchen was stocked with new pots and pans, and a pile of groceries were stacked on the floor.

You made your way down the hall, glancing in at the bathroom before finding your and Ella’s bags in a room at the end of the hall. You got her freshened up and grabbed a bottle before setting in a crib that had been set up.

You laid on your side on the bed across from the crib, watching as she played with the toys and stuffies Woo had grabbed for her. You couldn’t help but cry again, feeling hopeless and confused.

San and Wooyoung had always kept the business side of things hush hush, but over time you started to pick up on little things. Woo arranged boxing matches where people placed high bets to watch San fight an opponent.

99% of the time San was victorious, in exception for Leeknow. Every few weeks the boys would come home after a loss and chat over how to defeat him the next time. Woo always said the loss left a dent in their wallets.

The knock on the door woke you up. You groaned quietly, not even realizing you had fallen asleep.

“Sorry…she’s been fussing. I can take her if you want.” The male said.

It was only now you realized who had been accompanying you this whole time. “Mingi?”

“Yea..I didn’t think you remembered.” He chuckled, taking a few steps towards the crib.

“No.” You said quickly, “I got her.”

You rushed to your feet to swoop Ella into your arms, hushing her as you dug through one of the bags.

“Sorry.” Mingi said quietly, scratching the back of his head. “I have dinner going. It’ll be ready soon.” He smiled softly before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

You didn’t exactly remember Mingi, but he had been one of your elementary school friends and you thought he’d left town years ago.

Once you found a soother for Ella, you both made your way into the kitchen. You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep, but the cabin looked much cozier than when you arrived.

A small play area had been set up in the living room, which you placed Ella into after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Are you hungry?” Mingi asked from the kitchen.

“Uh, no. No thanks. Ella’s probably starving.”

“I made her mashed peas and potatoes. There’s a few pieces of pork chop cooling for her too.”

To your surprise, the food at prepared correctly for her age and was made into a smiley face on a cute dinosaur plate.

“Don’t worry, I know how to not kill a baby. I have a three year old and a handful of nieces and nephews.” Mingi smirked, passing you the plate and a baby spoon.

“Thanks.” You mumbled quietly.

You sat inside Ella’s play area and propped her inside the bumbo seat before feeding her dinner.

“I think she approves.” Mingi said from the kitchen table as he munched down on his own meal.

You ignored his comment, focusing on keeping Ella’s face clean as your thoughts wondered to Woo and San. You couldn’t help but worry and wonder where they were, if they were okay. Not to mention the hurt you felt from then suddenly leaving you.

The day creeped into night and you went along with your normal routine with Ella, bathing her and reading a couple of stories before settling her down in bed with a bottle.

Mingi had made himself comfortable in the smaller bedroom, setting up a little gaming station and some mood lighting. It seemed like he was always making someplace feel like home.

“You still haven’t eaten.”

His deep voice creeped out from his room, you peaked in to see him sitting on a bean bag chair, playing gta on a small tv screen.

“I just don’t feel hungry. I’m fine though.” You smiled softly before turning towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you mind listening out for her?”

“No problem at all.”

The hot water washed over your face as you sobbed as quiet as you could. There was a million questions running through your head. Why San would just send you off without explanation. Why they couldn’t go with you. There was no off button to the mess in your head.

As you opened the bathroom door, Mingi gave you a small wave, “She’s snoring. I’m heading to sleep soon.” He stretched out before standing up and heading to the door, leaning onto the side as he started to close it.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks. Night.”

You tried to comfort yourself with Woo’s shirt, the familiar sent of him brought you mixed emotions, which you tried your best to push aside. At some point you drifted to sleep on your tear stained pillow, thought it was nothing compared to falling asleep in Woo’s arms as he fucked you slowly.

The next few days felt numb. You went through day by day, moment by moment just focusing on Ella. You were a mess. You had barely eaten, barely spoken to Mingi. The only update you had gotten was that Leeknow had thrown a fight and his people were angry with the loss.

You were too exhausted to focus on what was being told to you as Mingi filled you in the latest events.

“I guess it’s almost resolved. There was some sort of confrontation but they ended up actually chatting.”

Your eyes tried to focus on Mingi cleaned dishes, but the room started to spin.

“If all goes well, you should be going home pretty so-”

Your body fell to the ground with a hard thud as you blacked out. The lack of food and hours of crying finally had you hitting a brick wall.

Mingi cursed as a glass dropped from his hand, he ran to your side and patted your face a few times. “Fuck. Come on, wake up.”

He grabbed your glass of water off the table and splashed it on your face, “Y/N.” He tapped your face a little harder as you woke a bit, still very fuzzy and spaced.

You remember being in the car as Mingi drove towards the nearest hospital. Ella was strapped in her seat and you laid fading in and out on the seat next to her.

The beeping of a heart monitor rang in your ears as you came out of unconsciousness, you mumbled to yourself as the nurse greeted you and let you know what was going on.

“We gave you some fluids but you’re going to need to eat before you leave, other than that, you and the baby are overall fine.”

“What?” Your tone was unexpectedly harsher than you expected.

“Well we had to run a blood test just to make sure it was lack of nutrients…I-I’m sorry, if you didn’t know.”

You stared blankly for a moment, “No-“ you paused to look at her, offering a small smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You laughed quietly as a tear fell down your cheek. “Thank you.”

After following the doctors orders and apologizing to Mingi and Ella for not taking care of your self, you were happily on your way home.

Though your heart ached for Wooyoung more than ever, you couldn’t help but smile down at your stomach.

“I think you should name them Grey.”

“Grey?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite color - well actually charcole, but that’s a weird name for a kid.”

You shook your head and laughed as the drive continued, filled with small chat and plans to make the best of things.

“By the way” Mingi started as he pulled into the long driveway down to the cabin, he paused and quickly checked his phone before pointing to a car parked near the house. “You have a visitor.”

Your eyes filled with tears at the sight of your brother as the car came to a stop, you rushed out and over to hug him tightly.

“I swear to god if you ever do that again”

“It won’t happen again. Ever.”

“Promise.”

“Promise. We’re going straight.”

San explained how Wooyoung had made a deal with Leeknow’s people to get them out of the game and in exchange they would own and operate a car repair shop.

As San continued to speak, your eyes drifted to the cabin door opening and you took off running towards Wooyoung as he walked out.

Tears were streaming down your face as you leaped into his arms, kissing his lips as deep as you could.

“You came back.” You whispered against his lips, pressing your head against his.

“I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

“Good. Ella and her little brother or sister are gonna need their daddy.”

Woo looked down at you with a look of shock and wonder, which you nodded a few times to confirm what he was thinking.

He wrapped his arms around you again, spinning you around as he kissed your cheek repeatedly.

“Get a room!” San yelled with a laugh.

Woo gave him the finger as he carried you back into the cabin and closed the door behind him.

You laughed in his arms and held onto him until he put you back on the ground, “Go get your daughter.” You laughed, giving him another kiss.

“Our daughter.” He whispered.

[buffetlicious]

One of mum’s favourite dining outlet in Northpoint City is Feng Food (台湾味 “丰”). And this Guan Miao Mian with Specially Marinated Pork Chop (猪排关庙面) is her must order dish. She loves the springy and chewy handmade wavy noodles and that juicy pan-fried pork chop.

I had the limited Sunrise Crispy Chicken Cutlet Rice (日出鸡腿排饭) though I have never encountered them being sold out. Love that big piece of crispy boneless chicken leg paired with an over easy egg. The rice is drizzled with the gravy from the braised pork and refreshing pickled cucumber and vegetable for the sides.

[rius-cave]

I firmly believe that despite a horrific inability to cook anything else, Adam has PERFECTED making pizza rolls. Perfect temperature, mind-blowing crust, they never get too soggy, or burn the roof of your mouth.

Meanwhile, pork chops? Burnt to a crisp.

Pasta/ramen? Either barely cooked and still crunchy, or a mushy mess.

Heating up soup? Hope you didn't like that pan/microwave, because it's a smouldering mess now.

But pizza rolls? A+. Every. Single. Time.

-🥠

Anon I regret to inform you that I had never heard of those before (my ass is too Mexican probably) but quick googling gives me two different looking things, I assume you mean the ones that look like cinnamon rolls.

Man. That thing implies making DOUGH and BAKING, using the OVEN..... that is one bold choice to make as your exception for the Adam can't cook rule!

[tracycloud]

COOKING FOR ROBERTA (Part 4)

A few weeks after Roberta's birthday, I was in the kitchen of Café Ravenna. It was early in the morning. For the first time, I cooked a ragu of wild boar, mushrooms and herbs, braised in a rich red Colli Bolognesi. Naturally, it was a recipe from Erika. She had entrusted it to me with the promise never to reveal the details of the recipe to anyone.

The mushrooms were not permitted to be rinsed, but had to be brushed individually, the herbs chopped in a certain way, the meat cut into equal-sized cubes (I was even allowed to use Erika's personal knife in the meantime) and then rubbed with a secret seasoning mixture.

Giovanni called through the open kitchen door. “Hey, Cuoca, here's an American ragazza who's desperate for a job. Says she's an artist. Like you.”

I was frantic. It was the dish for lunch, nothing was to be allowed to go wrong. I wasn't in the mood for job interviews with some crazy artist girls. 

I was about to shout just that to Giovanni when a young woman in her very early 20s, maybe 150 cm tall, with short brown hair and a few wild orange color explosions in it, stuck her head into the kitchen and said “Hey, I'm Ava and I'm looking for a job” with a pretty sweet American sound.

Of course I couldn't resist looking at her very tight tank top, under which pretty, rather small breasts were clearly visible. “Ohhh, almost like mine,” I thought immediately.

She had a clever, somewhat mischievous look and a cheeky twinkle in her eye. I love old Hollywood movies and immediately thought of Ava Gardners eyes in the sensational movie “Pandora and the Flying Dutchman”.

But above all, I thought of all the unbrushed mushrooms and the time ticking away until lunchtime. “Do you have any experience?  In gastronomy or cooking, I mean, of course.” 

“Sure, I sometimes helped my mother in the kitchen. And I was sometimes permitted to make baked cheese... and crepes for dessert,” she said without batting an eyelid.  Okay. At least she had been in a kitchen before.

I sighed: “Okay, we'll do a test run. Go and wash your hands, the kitchen aprons are in the cupboard back there. And hurry up”!!!

Ava was really quick, just nodded briefly, did what I told her, then stood next to me, waiting eagerly for instructions.

I showed her how to use a special brush to clean the vast quantities of earthy mushrooms that Erika had foraged in the forest this morning.

I began to prepare the wild boar meat, occasionally checking that Ava was working carefully, giving instructions that she followed wordlessly and with a smile.

I can be strict and authoritarian in the kitchen.  She seemed to like that. In fact, I saw a longing in her eyes that I knew very well in myself.

I thought to myself: "Why on earth did my new kitchen help have to be a young submissive brat?"

I would have no choice but to introduce her to Roberta.

In a kitchen, especially one as cramped as the Ravenna, you can't avoid bumping into each other from time to time. Ava seemed to enjoy it. After a while, her cute little ass seemed to randomly bump into mine whenever I had to push past her. She was testing me out.

The cool morning slowly turned into a warm autumn day. The meat was roasting in the large iron pan and lardo, the fatty Italian pork bacon, was sizzling in the huge cast-iron cooking pot.  Soon the mushrooms would be added for frying. It was getting really hot in the kitchen.

Little beads of sweat were already glistening on Ava's forehead. Her tight, white tank top was forming larger, damp patches. It looked pretty seductive. She caught me staring at her and grinned. I threw her a kitchen towel so she could wipe the sweat off her face.

Finally, all the ingredients were in the big pot and slowly simmering in the red Colli Bolognesi wine.

Ava and I stood by the open window, but there was little cool air coming in. “You worked quickly and quite carefully,” I praised Ava. “You can start here tomorrow for all I care. As kitchen help. Papers, money and stuff, you'll have to sort that out with Giovanni up front.”

I had expected a “Thank you, great” or something similar, but not that Ava would start crying with joy. I spontaneously hugged her. She whispered in my ear with her cute US accent: “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Now I don't have to beg my parents for money. They want me to come back. Do something useful. Not breadless art.”

That sounded pretty familiar. I squeezed her even tighter. Today I was wearing my new, swanky “Grand Chef Lady” chef's jacket, which I bought from my first salary as second chef (after Erika, of course).

But nothing underneath.

I felt our boobs pressed tightly together.

I sensed her warmth, her stiff nipples, the slight smell of her fresh feminine sweat, which I impulsively and audibly sucked in deeply.

Ava reacted to this with her tongue, which she suddenly stuck in my ear. I automatically placed my hands on her beautiful buttocks and stroked them. Ava pushed her right knee between my thighs, which opened automatically and gave her access to my already wet pussy under the linen fabric of my blue checked chef's trousers.

I felt her knee pressing harder and harder against my wet center, I moaned and rubbed myself against her thigh. I don't know how she managed to get her hands under my chef's jacket. I felt her fingers caressing my nipples and making them even stiffer. Then suddenly she was massaging my boobs, pinching my nipples between two of her fingers, squeezing hard. I moaned louder and rubbed myself harder against her knee.

“Ohhh, you seem really submissive and maybe a bit horny for pain?” she whispered in my ear. “Me too.”

In my nose, her intense smell of sweat and pussy mingled with the unfolding scent of the ragu, which was simmering quietly on a low flame.

“Ohhh... my hot little chef. You made me so horny earlier with your strict manner, your instructions. I dreamt of being humiliated by you. Please, please, do it. Hurt me, humiliate me. Make me cum.”

Her breath was hot on my ear, her hands now gently caressing my boobs. “Then we'll switch.  That's what you want, isn't it?”.

Ava suddenly squeezed my nipples hard and I moaned: “YAAAA”.

Ava grinned diabolically.  “NO, we'll do it the other way around.”

She squeezed even harder. First came the pain, then it turned into lust and devotion. Ava tongued from my ear to my slightly open mouth. Her tongue penetrated and took possession of my mouth. Her tongue was everywhere. I could hardly breathe, our saliva flowed together, dripping onto my fancy chef's jacket.

Her left hand suddenly slipped into my pants and was immediately firmly on my pussy, squeezing her hard and short. Without Avas tongue in my mouth, I would have cried out. As it was, I could only gasp.

I felt her fingers between my wet pussy lips and then how she suddenly penetrated me deeply with two or three fingers, quickly and expertly finding my sweet spot.

My pelvis was now moving rhythmically against her rubbing fingers. Suddenly this hot wave rolled over me, my whole body exploded, twitched, trembled, my legs went weak. For seconds I was paralyzed.

When I opened my eyes again, Ava was smiling at me. “Wow, you're just so incredibly cum. And so incredibly submissive. I've never experienced it like I did with you just now”. She stroked my hair. “Come on, sit down. You look a bit wobbly” .

The ragout simmered quietly on the nearby stove. Ava took off the heavy cast-iron lid. “Wow, baby, how that smells. So awesome. Can I have a taste?” How could I refuse when she had just given me an incredible orgasm?

Ava tasted the hot sauce with a spoon instead of a flat plate and naturally burnt her tongue. But she still liked the taste. “ Fantastic. You cook like a champ. Here, have a taste”.

She held the spoon to my mouth. Luckily it wasn't that hot anymore. The ragu wasn't cooked yet, but I knew it would be good. And thanks to Ava, I had been quicker than I thought. I praised her for her good job cleaning the mushrooms.

Suddenly she was sitting on my lap. Her mouth was at my ear again, whispering: “Please reward me! Touch me! Hurt me! NOW! “ Her voice was now demanding, authoritative. She pressed my hand onto her boobs. I obeyed. Squeezed her nipples. Hard. She moaned. Her tongue was deep in my ear again. I felt my own wetness, lust and lust flooded me, I kissed and bit into her soft neck, my hands slid to her center. I felt her heat and wetness through the fabric of her jeans. My hand pressed against her vulva. She pressed against it just as hard, rubbing wildly against my hand, trembling violently, her whole body twitching convulsively, an inarticulate scream right by my ear, she was clinging to me, sinking into the hot waves of her cum as they crashed over her.

[askbabob]

the rules for babob!!

ok but first.. oc info..hehe >:)

Babob is a baby blue sprunki. He is a bit chubby, so his instrument is drums (he stomps as a calming thing and also instrument thing.) He has hair made of bubbles. He also has a tail with a feather on the end. He is a HUGE germaphobe and clean freak. Hes also kinda chill. He REFUSES to touch dirt or else he will use like 3 bars of soap in the shower. He is 6'3 and has a bit of fur but not much.

Lore:

When he was growing up, his whole house was filthy and trashed. When he was four, the roof caved and killed his mom and big sis, and paralyzed his dad from the waist down, forcing him to semi take care of dad. His dad died when he was 16 and he went to a orphanage but got kicked out at 18. After, he went to the sprunki band and made his relationships.

Relationships: HATES raddy (calls him fatty and pork-chubs)

Good friends with clukr

Likes OWAKCX but refuses to touch him

Likes oren and steals orange soda from him

Frenimies with durple

VERY good friends with pinki

Dating another oc (goat, forgot name)

VERYYY good friends with Simon, they are eating buddies (like drinking buddies) and fatasses together

Horror: Wenda chopped off the top half of his head to the skull when he was in the shower. There is blood leaking from the wound. There is a crack on his skull. His feet are bloody. Bubbles are eternally leaking from his eyes and mouth. Due to this, he can't talk because all there would be is bubble popping (there is a rare in-game chance, that if he was real, you'd hear a scream that sounds like "HELPPP!!" drowned out by bubbles when you put him on. In this form he bangs on his skull for drums and you can sometimes hear winces of pain from him. If you put him right next to Simon, though, no winces of pain and there is a smile on his face.

Yes. I hc that Simon is a lil chubby.

Dni list!

Proshippers

Z00s

P3d0s

Basically any of the philes

factkin

Antifurs

Antitherian

Antialterhuman

bad-furs

18 plus blogs

Homophobes

Transphobes

PLEASE interact list

Ask (insert sprunki) blogs

Mabel fictionkins (I miss her sm)

Alterhuman

Lgbt

REGRETEVATOR BLOGS DOESNT MATTER WHAT KIND

Sprunki blogs still doesn't matter what kind

Minor blogs, I am a minor myself.

THE PRINCESS BRIDE FANS

Extra:

I. Love. Angst. And gore

I semi mind NSFW asks. Like more than likely il ignore but if it's mild/jokey then I'm ok wit it. But, I LOVE romance rps!

Blog guide:

Ooc-js normal me/jammy

Faceless babob- no art js text

The soap is crying- angst

Slicey slicey- gore

🤨- weird ask but ok

<3- I LOVE UR ASK RAAA

Ask babob - non ooc posts

More extra:

DUDE. IDC CARE IF U THROW DIRT ON HIM BUT HE'LL GET MAD AND SHI

Btw he is Trans male and pan

He is my first and ONLY sprunki oc

Also, I'm a gaster and Stanley pines fictionkin and I'm moth flight and rock slime fictionhearted. Also, Maine coon, giant panda, and golden retriever therian.

IMPORTANT!! I CANNOT DONATE TO PALESTINE. PLEASE DONT TRY TO SEND IN THOSE TYPES OF ASKS. I WILL ANSWER THE ONE CURRENTLY IN MY BOX, BUT THATS IT.

Anyways byee!!!

My other blog:

@ask-this-odd-family

[kabillieu]

For dinner tonight I made this dumpling soup. We've had a giant box of Costco dumplings in our freezer for several months, and no one was doing anything about it.

I used chicken broth and added garlic and ginger to the recipe, and though I added chili crisp at the end, next time I think I'll use sambal oelek instead because I like it better. Not sure I would make this for dinner again because it didn't strike me as quite hearty enough, but I do think it's a great idea for a quick lunch if I have dumplings and spinach on hand.

To make it kid friendly I also made rice because if they won't eat anything else both of my boys will eat white rice with soy sauce. I don't know how to say this without sounding kind of racist, but their Asian-ness definitely comes through when it comes to rice. We are turning into a house that offers a rice option at many, bordering most meals, which is not something I could have fathomed growing up, eating the blandest, soggiest minute rice known to man. But Dominic grew up eating properly cooked rice at most meals, and that's beginning to happen here as well.

To further make it kid (and honestly Kate) friendly, Dominic also pan fried some lumpia, which we had with mango sweet chili sauce. Dominic buys big bags of frozen lumpia at the commissary on base, and it's delicious every time.

Anyway, I get unreasonably nervous trying new recipes on my family. A lot of it is undue pressure I put on myself to make things that every single member of my family will eat and enjoy, and that is just a stupid and unattainable goal. So I'm trying to just follow my own palate and desires more, while simultaneously trying to offer sides like rice and pasta or even leftovers that I know my kids will enjoy. I also have to stop thinking I will ever make Dominic something that he will like more than a panfried pork chop with white rice and no vegetables. He is never going to like something better than that! Except adobo. But he eats everything I cook, so I just need to cook things that I want to eat and stop thinking about these people I live with. They can get in line or go hungry!

(Also, Dominic liked this soup very much, so what even is my problem.)

[tightwadspoonies]

I am allergic to all nightshades (tomato, potato, peppers, eggplant) as well as shellfish. I'm also physically disabled, so standing at the stove or counter for long periods of time is painful. My food options are so limited as a result, and I end up relying on frozen foods more than I'd like. Any ideas?

Trail mix: Lots of things can be purchased in pre-sized pieces from bulk stores and mixed in zipper bags. I recommend dried fruit or berries without added sugar, seeds (pumpkin, sunflower, etc..), nuts, and puffed grain or cereal pieces. Making your own mix is usually a healthier and more customizable option than buying pre-made, so you can expand it out to a meal or just eat as a snack.

Meal shakes- Combine a regular smoothie recipe with some heavy cream or nut butter for more calories. These are much easier to clean up after if you use a stick blender and rinse it off immediately.

The following recipes minimize prep, or allow prep to be done at a different time than the meal will be consumed:

Sheet pan meals: Cut pieces of 2 different vegetables (sweet potato, onion, broccoli, green beans, cauliflower, etc...) and a meat (chicken, sausage links, beef, pork, etc...) into 1-inch cubes, toss in oil of choice with spices of choice (I like garlic, onion, salt, and black pepper), lay on a sheet pan, and bake until the meat is cooked through (30-45mins at 350F).

The chopping can be done seated and/or done ahead on a good day (or even purchased pre-cut at some supermarkets) and frozen (lay on a baking tray in the freezer for an hour, then put in a zipper bag) for a quick meal on a bad day. You can cut down on dishes by lining the pan you freeze or cook with in parchment paper.

Instant Pot or slow cooker meals: Put some meat, roughly chopped onions, spices of choice, oil of choice, and broth in a slow cooker or instant pot, set to appropriate settings and wait.

Make rice or other starch ahead of time and freeze in portions. Then all you have to do is microwave it to go with a sheet pan dinner or instant pot dinner.

Non-nightshade sauces can be tricky, but here is a relatively easy one that doesn't require sautee-ing. It does require an instant pot or slow cooker and blender or immersion blender.