#right down to marinating the pork chops

[thegeminisage]

victory: we cooked out a crazy stupid amount of food AND did not get rained on

[fruitcoops]

Nothing But Sincerity

Fic O'Ween Day 6: Rainy Day, inspired by a Day 3 art piece by @tobi-tobi-tobi that was shared on the server! Coops credit to @lumosinlove, fest cred to @noots-fic-fests <3

Sirius made a disappointed sound and clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “Practice got cancelled.”

“Oh, no,” Remus said, pulling his socks off. “Thunderstorms?”

Sirius nodded; their thickest blanket slid easily off the back of the couch. “Dangerous roads and flood warnings.”

“Man, that sucks.” The kettle gave a soft snick as Remus put his slippers on.

“I was really hoping to go today,” Sirius agreed while he kicked the far fleece edge down over his feet. Outside, lightning cracked from the gathering clouds.

“Sounds like we can’t make plans with the guys, either,” Remus called from the kitchen, where he was pouring a marinated pork loin into a baking dish.

“Oh, mais non. Can’t ask them to drive in this. How are we going to survive?”

The squeak of the oven door cut off Remus’ soft tutting. “It’s been ages since we had the house to ourselves. Evening practice is the only thing I was looking forward to today.”

Sirius hummed his agreement as the DVD tray snicked shut. He made it back to the couch just as Remus dried his hands on a kitchen towel, and left one side of the blanket conveniently flipped up while he laid down again with a long, satisfied exhale. “This is going to be really difficult,” he mused.

The Great Pumpkin Waltz rose to the very corners of the room like an exhale over thunder. Remus reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, then slid beneath the blanket and splayed himself across Sirius’ front, kissing a smile into his mouth. “Jeez, Captain, I can’t think of a single thing to do with a rainy-day recess.”

Perhaps Sirius broke first, but Remus wasn’t far behind. Laughter overwhelmed the first few lines of the movie—enough that Sirius had to rummage around for the remote and rewind to the very beginning, despite the best efforts of tiny kisses to his neck to distract him. Remus’ back was warm under the long pass of his hand. He buried his nose in the soft curls just above Remus’ ear and took a deep breath, then let it go, so their weight sank into the plush cushions below them.

“I don’t want to do anything at all.”

Remus kissed the side of his neck again. “Cheers.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Kiss me there.”

“Cause I love you.”

“Well, yes, but why there?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder and shuffled the blanket up around his neck. “Easy access. Right height. Beauty mark. Stop talking, don’t you know I’m trying to watch the movie?”

Sirius swatted him under the thick fleece, but he just laughed. “You’ve seen this a million times.”

“It’s October and rainy, baby. Charlie Brown was made for this.”

“Hmph.”

“Hmph. You sound like Dumo.” He pulled a face and Remus grinned, nuzzling into the scruffy part of his cheek. “Hedgehog. Wanna come chop some broccoli with me?”

Broccoli did sound nice. Crispy and smoky on the ends, the way Remus liked it, if they put it in now and let it roast with the pork. Sirius let his arms come up around the broad curve of Remus’ ribs and rest heavy on each measured inhale. A peek over his shoulder toward the dim kitchen; he couldn’t tell whose legs were whose beneath the blanket. “Ouais, sounds good.”

“Hmph.” Hot air puffed over his throat. “Well, now I don’t want to get up.”

“Hey, I didn’t suggest broccoli.”

“I know, I know, but now I have to.”

“Non.”

“Non?”

“Nothing you have to do tonight.” His thumb had settled near the base of Remus’ ribcage for a few quiet strokes. “You love this movie.”

Remus seemed to ponder that for a moment. His heart thudded the calm rhythm Sirius had grown accustomed to falling asleep to. “We’ll pause at the Red Baron,” he finally said. “Then broccoli, super quick.”

“Mhmm.”

Sirius fully expected the Red Baron to pass them by without a twitch of movement. But true to his word, Remus paused the movie, and sat up with monumental effort. “Up, up, up.” Each word was punctuated by a pat to Sirius’ bare chest. “Let’s go, five minutes.”

“I can’t move.”

“I won’t get up by myself.”

“Non, I can’t move,” Sirius snorted, tugging at Remus’ thighs where he straddled his lap. “Up, up, up, loup.”

“No, I’m comfortable,” came the half-laugh, half-groan as Remus braced his hands on the armrest for a sleepy-cat stretch. He blinked slowly at the television a few times, as if it would save him from his self-imposed torment. Sirius poked him in the belly, just to be helpful.

They managed to make it to the kitchen, but not after much hemming and hawing and old-man joint pops from them both. “I should not be creaky at 28,” Sirius sighed, pressing his hands above his head with a yawn before moving to the fridge.

“You want rice, Old Man McGee?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I already turned the—” Remus gestured at the rice cooker. “—thing on.”

“Rice cooker. It’s literally in the name.”

A kiss popped against the corner of Sirius’ mouth like bubblegum. “Aren’t you supposed to be chopping broccoli?”

“Hey, hey, wait, come kiss me again.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. Remus spun on his heel with pleased interest written all over his face and backed Sirius up against the countertop, paying no mind to the fresh box of butter between them. His hands moved softly over Sirius’ hips, just above the band of his pajama pants, before settling on his waist as he pressed up for a kiss. His wedding ring was cool on Sirius’ skin. Moonlit rain pattered against the kitchen window. The storm would probably lash the house later, but Sirius didn’t think either of them would be awake long enough to notice or care.

[ggukkiedae]

COOK WITH ME, YEAH? EP. 2 || my best friend for almost a decade 

uploaded on january 22, 2024 to the bangtantv youtube channel and weverse. dialogue in italics are spoken in english

content warning: briefly touches on the sopa incident (which you can find in the yoonmi.dreamies tag) and growing up as a child in the entertainment industry

Click Below to See the Video

miya: “hi everyone! it’s the second episode of cooking with miya, and i thought it was just about right, since last episode was with my other half, that i would bring in probably my closest other best friend outside of bangtan in today.”

she pulls out a jar from her fridge and plops it on the table, a heavy thud sounding out 

she then opens the freezer and takes out half a pound of pork belly. 

miya: “this friend, we’ve tasted each other’s cooking, but we have never actually cooked together despite us being friends for almost a decade now—“

she was cut off by the sound of beeping and someone yelling “i’m here!”. she laughed and shouted 

miya: “i’m in the kitchen! looks like he arrived just in time.”

a figure in a hoodie and a coat popped into view, initiating a handshake involving foot taps and spinning her around as well before they ended it in a hug

she laughed and made him turn to face the camera

miya: “everyone, it’s donghyuckie oppa! but you guys know him better as nct’s haechan!” 

haechan: “hi, i’m nct’s haechan! hold on, i’ll just hang my coat up” 

the video cuts to them standing next to each other, haechan has his hands behind his back

yoonmi excitedly looks at him

miya: “you came earlier than i thought! i only started to defrost the pork belly now” 

haechan: “knowing you and me, we’ll get distracted long enough while doing food prep” 

miya: “true” 

haechan: “i brought you something”

he takes his hands from behind his back, and offers her a paper bag. she looks inside and laughs 

haechan: “what? why are you laughing at my gift?” 

miya: “you brought me soju and beer?” 

haechan: “you said we’re making a korean dish today!” 

miya: “i’ll get the shot glasses”

she pulls two shot glasses out of the cabinet before filling them with soju and placing the the rest of the paper bag’s contents into the fridge

they clinked their shot glasses together before downing them and setting the shot glasses aside next to the bottle

miya: “have you ever drank while cooking?” 

haechan: “i can’t say i have. what are we making?” 

miya: “kimchi jjigae!”

haechan: “really?” 

miya: “yeah, do you wanna cut the meat or the kimchi?”

haechan: “you don’t like handling meat, so i’ll do that”

miya: “oh? oppa is acting nice for the camera?”

haechan looks into the camera with a playful smirk, making her laugh

cut to them on the dining table, yoonmi has tofu, a bowl and a large container, haechan is next to her, but his side of the table has a chopping board, a bowl, some vegetables, and the meat

miya: “you can cut the meat however you like, just marinate it in rice wine later after” 

haechan: “the point of that is?”

miya: “flavor and defrosting” 

haechan: “right. is this the part we answer questions?”

a caption appears: cooking with miya invites miya’s friends over to bond with her while they look back on their friendship using questions initially suggested by army and questions miya herself found most frequently on social media posts of them together

she laughed as they both started on their tasks. the very first question popped up

when did you meet and what were your first impressions of each other?

haechan: “we met in 2014” 

miya: “that’s right, jinki oppa introduced us! i think that was around january?” 

haechan: “january 22, you were such a baby back then!” 

a caption appears: coincidentally the day this video is uploaded is their decade as friends

miya: “so were you! i remember that day, we had lunch, then we ended up talking until late after dinner”

haechan: “i still remember jin hyung herding you into the car like a baby sheep”

she laughs before focusing on lifting the kimchi carefully and cutting it into pieces

haechan leaned back a bit and thought for a moment before leaning back forward and mincing garlic and while speaking

haechan: “i think my first impression if you was ‘wow, she’s a lot shyer than she seems’ because i knew you as an idol before i knew you as a person”

miya: “you knew me?”

haechan: “you were the first girl in a boy group ever, and you were known for being a shawol, of course i knew you” 

he looked at her like he was offended, before grabbing the scallions he was going to cut up next and whacked her with it, making her scrunch her nose and shake her head at him

 she dipped her gloved hand into the kimchi container and smeared it on his cheek before she grabbed an extra bowl to scoop kimchi juice into 

he yelped and gave her an appalled look while she just laughed

the video cuts to them properly working

miya: “okay, okay. as for you, you seemed like a very funny guy from the start! that didn’t change, you’re still funny, but you’re also pretty sweet”

haechan: “of course i am” 

miya: “oppa, you’re just playing the of course game at this point”

what are your names for each other in your cellphones?

miya: “hyuckie oppa with a sun emoji”

haechan: “princess yoonmi with a wave and a crown emoji”

miya: “wait, really? not hannah unnie?”

haechan: “yeah, you’re one of the three princesses in my phone”

miya: “me, hannah unnie, and your sister”

haechan: “exactly”

describe each other in one word

she started opening the tofu pack to slice it

haechan, who originally started slicing the meat once done with the vegetables, paused to look at yoonmi

he tilted his head in thought

haechan: “i think in one word yoonmi is sea” 

miya: “what? why?”

haechan: “the sea is calming, mostly, but also because the sea can be both gentle and rough. it cannot be held back, and neither can you���

she looked at him, eyes looking a little more hydrated

he didn’t meet her eyes, so she smacked his arm with the back of her hand

miya: “… i’m never forgiving you if you make me cry in the middle of food prep with only one shot of soju in my system”

he cried out in false exaggerated pain, making her laugh

haechan: “crybaby. what about me?”

miya: “hyuckie oppa is the sun”

he raised his eyebrow at her

haechan: “you couldn’t be any more original?”

miya: “no, hear me out! yes, you’re a ball of energy and a warm person, but remember that the sun constantly shines, even during the night when we can’t see it. you’re just as great and hard-working even in moments when nobody is there to watch you, and i admire that”

haechan: “no wonder you’re a really coveted lyricist” 

she hits him on the arm once again before the video cuts to them on her couch, another shot of soju being taken 

the caption indicates they’re waiting thirty minutes for the meat to marinate before starting

what’s your favorite memory together?

she sat up excitedly, making him jump in surprise

miya: “i know mine!” 

haechan: “already?”

miya: “yeah, oppa, do you remember that time in junior year when we were assigned to work together?”

haechan: “you mean the whole year?”

she gave him a pointed look for his sarcasm, making him laugh

she put her shot glass down and crossed her arms at him, so he chuckled and patted her knee

haechan: “go on”

miya: “it was the music theory class”

haechan: “right, we did a presentation on the utilization of negative space in music, but you were on tour while we were preparing”

miya: “i think i video called you more than i did my boyfriend back then because of how stressed we were”

he snorted at that, grabbing the bottle and pouring them another shot each

she opened a bag of chips, offering some in exchange to him handing her the shot, which they both downed immediately

haechan: “why’s that your favorite memory?”

miya: “i think that’s the time that i realized that, aside from spemding time together as friends, i like working with you in both career related and non-career related things”

he ruffled her hair, making her yelp and fix her hair while pouting at him

haechan: “awww you love me”

miya: “sure, let's go with that. and what’s your favorite memory?”

haechan: “easy. shinee world iii. i think that’s what solidified our friendship when we watched the shinee hyungs together. before that, i kinda thought you were just being my friend for the sake of not disappointing onew hyung”

she looked at him surprised, and he just gave her an apologetic smile

she turned her body to face him more, eyes wide in surprise

miya: “what? no way, i was just shy!”

haechan: “i know that now, but not then, so that’s how i felt! but we had a lot of fun, and we even had an impromptu dinner after both nights, so that was when i was assured that we were genuinely friends for real, and i knew we’d continue to be friends”

he filled their shot glasses while he was talking

she opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, taking the shot

he gave her a look before taking a bit of chips for himself

haechan: “say it”

miya: “i said this in the intro, outside of bangtan, you’re my best friend”

haechan: “me? not haeeunie? or mark? or jisung?”

she rolled her eyes while he looked at her in fake surprise

miya: “oppa, you know this, we talked about this! hannah unnie is like a sister, and mark oppa’s my boyfriend, that’s different! but, if we leave mark oppa out of this, i’ve spent more time with you than i have any of my other friends, especially since we were classmates for two years and always put together for group projects”

haechan: “that’s good because you’re my best friend outside the group as well, especially after everything we’ve been through together”

yoonmi nodded, and pictures of them through the years appeared on screen

what was it like growing up together?

yoonmi snorted and looked at haechan

he looked back at her tilting his head

haechan: “what?”

miya: “i don’t think either of us grew up for a while”

he laughed, but nodded in agreement

haechan: “it feels like we stayed fourteen and thirteen, right? mostly because i started training at fourteen and you debuted at thirteen”

miya: “twelve and eleven if we go by that logic”

haechan gave her a look, but she just shrugged and looked at the camera

miya: “international age and before our birthdays”

haechan: “wait, you were eleven internationally when you debuted? that’s crazy!”

miya: “i was a mature looking kid”

haechan: “but you look exactly the same now”

she smacked him with a pillow, he laughed while defending himself

the video cuts to them sitting more calmly

haechan: “what was i saying? right, we were thirteen and twelve for a long time, then suddenly it just felt like we were mentally both teens and adults, just ageless, in kids’ bodies, didn’t it?”

miya: “it did. it's like a limbo of some sort"

haechan: "i've been told often... this actually goes for both of us, it's a topic we talked about just the other day, but i've been told i have a mature mindset despite having a childlike personality"

miya: "that's right, we get that a lot. although we are maturing now, there are just some things that don't change, and somethings that do. it comes with experience. you can't go through as much as we have and not have some sort of change or growth in the way you think"

haechan: "exactly! when you see the world, as cheesy as it sounds, and get put in multiple situations whether good or bad, your mind adapts and learns, changing the way you think. yet, we both started work at very young ages, which did cut our experiences of normal childhood quite short. that's what makes it feel like we're exactly the way we were back then"

miya: "taemin oppa, he was the one who warned me about how this would feel, but i didn’t think it would be that prominent. it’s different with kookie oppa, you know? he was like the big brother i was in it with. with you, and the other dreamies, actually, it just felt like there were finally people who got almost exactly how i felt”

haechan took his shot then poured them another one

she leaned back, seeming like she was reminiscing

haechan: “you were also the only person aside from haeeunie who never got annoyed with me in the early stages of our friendship”

miya: “and you were the first to see me as an equal and not as a little kid… even somi and daehwi thought of me as a baby back then”

he raised his shot glass to her

they clinked their glasses together and threw the shot back

haechan poured her a glass of water while she looked at her phone for the time

miya: “time to cook”

the scene cuts to the montage of them actually cooking  

haechan fries the meat a little while yoonmi fries the kimchi

he pours the meat into the kimchi, considering the kimchi was in the bigger pot

they add in water and all the vegetables 

the montage ends with a cut to them standing by the counter, waiting for it to boil before the next step

she reaches into the fishbowl of questions for the next one

are you guys okay after the sopa incident in 2017?

haechan: “put it back in the bowl”

haechan was quick to joke by holding the fishbowl of questions back towards yoonmi

she just laughed and placed the question on the counter

miya: “honestly, going through something like that isn’t just going to disappear from our memories”

haechan: “i like to think i’m mostly better now, but i’ve become really cautious and always double check with the people i’m with if the other people around us are who they’re supposed to be”

miya: “me too, and i get nervous if can’t find something that i know should be just there” 

they look at each other, yoonmi dropped her head

haechan: “then we both had an eventful last quarter after that”

miya: “i think we traumatized our therapist”

they laughed and decided to take another shot

haechan: “but we’re mostly okay now”

miya: “we are, yeah. thanks for sticking with me then, oppa”

haechan: “thanks for staying friends with me, yoonmi, really”

he picked the next question and read it out while she added the kimchi juice to the pot

will you two ever release a song together?

haechan snorted and looked at yoonmi who just smiled with a sigh

he took over and added some gochujang and ssamjang into their soup, stirring them in while yoonmi took a step back

haechan: “we want to, but we haven’t actually talked about it, right producer and composer-nim?”

miya: “it’s always been an idea, but we’re either always busy or just not thinking about work when we hang out”

haechan added some soy sauce into the pot while yoonmi added in a small amount of fish sauce

haechan: “but it would be nice. you saw those videos of yoonmi working with dream that one time, right? it’s been almost three years since then, i wonder how her recording style changed. jungkook hyung said she’s stricter now”

miya: “so maybe i am just a bit more of a perfectionist now, but so are you!”

he laughed at her, pointing at the fishbowl

haechan: “our collab is to be determined. last question?”

if you could go back and tell your younger selves on mmc anything about your friendship, what would it be?

haechan: “keep sweets on hand at all times. not only does she crave sweets like a monster, but she needs it for her blood sugar”

miya: “hey!”

haechan: “i’m right, you know i’m right!”

miya: “… little me, be prepared to fight for your life with this one”

the doorbell rang, and there’s a sound of a door opening. yoonmi smiled and walked off camera, making haechan wrinkle his nose at what he saw. 

haechan: “lee mark just kissed yoonmi”

she popped back into frame, mark with her, and jisung and hannah making her way to haechan’s side

hannah: “at least you were a distance away”

yoonmi laughed before making the three introduce themselves to the camera

haechan and yoonmi then cheered before he spoke

haechan: “we invited these three today to try our kimchi jjigae, and they’ll enjoy it if they know what’s good for them”

the scene then cuts to a montage of the three guests setting the table while yoonmi and haechan prepared the side dishes and the presentation of their kimchi jjigae

once the cut of the jjigae being placed on the table is taken, it goes to a wide shot of the five of them clapping and cheering

jisung: “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you two cook together before”

haechan: “we haven’t, this is a first time thing”

hannah: “it already looks better than when yoonmi and i tried to teach mark to cook”

mark: “hey! in my defense, i was distracted”

hannah: “by what?”

mark: “i’d rather not say”

haechan: “yoonmi, 100%”

jisung: “true”

yoonmi shakes her head and just claps once to get everyone’s attention and to save her boyfriend

miya: “okay guys, get your fill and try what hyuckie oppa and i made”

everyone happily fills their small bowls with the stew before trying it

sounds of approval fill the room

jisung’s eyes widen as he looks at the two cooks, mark pats their heads, and hannah is just happily eating her food

mark: “it’s amazing, you guys”

jisung: “hyung’s right! i think the others will like this”

hannah: “i don’t expect less from you two, this is great, this is a perfect from me”

haechan and yoonmi laugh in delight and high five before she turns to the camera

miya: “that brings an end to episode 2 of cook with me, yeah? thank you to my lovely boyfriend mark oppa as well as two of my closest friends hannah unnie and jisungie for coming over today to try our food. thank you to my best friend haechan oppa especially for cooking with me today. if any one of you would like to try what we made at home, the recipe will be in the description! see you next episode!”

the five of them wave to the camera, then the video cuts to black

after a few seconds, the screen is split into three, each showing mark, jisung, and hannah in once again what looks like yoonmi’s home office with a question along the bottom of the screen

what do you think of miya and haechan’s friendship?

jisung’s answer is shown first

jisung: “haechan hyung and yoonmi are interesting. hyung is loud and very full of jokes. he’s mischievous. yoonmi, is more on the quiet side, she’s a lot more reserved than hyung, but it works because they balance each other out. if i’m being honest, they are beneficial to each other in the way hyung brings yoonmi out of her shell while she helps him relax and ease his tension”

hannah is shown next

hannah: “honestly, those two are closer to each other than i am to yoonmi, which would surprise most people, but it makes sense to me. they’ve been friends longer than any of us have even known yoonmi, and both these sunshiney people who make the people around them endeared by both their friendship and their individual personalities. it makes me happy to know my twin flame gets along with someone i see as a sister”

last is mark’s cut

mark: “i actually really value their friendship. i like seeing them interact because i know from that that they have each other’s backs. i’ve known them both for so long, and i’m glad to say they have another person to turn to when they need it. it’s nice, you know? yoonmi deserves all the good things in the world, and, if for some reason the i’m not there to give it to her, there’s someone else i trust with my life to be there with and for her. haechannie, on the other hand, drives himself forward so much, so it reassures me to know he has someone to remind him to sit back for a bit and just live”

-end-

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[joxian1231]

“I’m not sure what’s better -the taste or the smell of Pork Pata Humba. Either way, I’m hooked! The smell of Pork Pata Humba is a sensory experience like no other. As I took my first bite, the aroma exploded on my taste buds,and the taste is equally impressive. But what really made this special was the love and care that my mother had put into preparing it. She had spent hours in the kitchen, carefully monitoring the pot and adjusting the seasoning to get just the right balance. And as I sat down to eat, I could feel her warmth and love radiating from the food itself. I’m hooked on Pork Pata Humba, and I know I’ll be back for more - not just for the taste, but for the memories and emotions that come with it. Whether it’s a special occasion or just an ordinary day morning, Pork Humba is always a welcome treat that never fails to put a smile on my face.

Pork Pata Humba Recipe

Ingredients:

Pork Pata 2 kilograms, 1 small can pineapple tidbits , 1 bell pepper, 1/2 cup soy sauce, 750ml coke, 1 TSP pepper corn , 8 pcs. Garlic, 1 pc red onion, 3 pcs. bay leaf, 2 Teaspoons salt

Instructions:

1. Marinate the pork: In a large bowl, combine soy sauce, coke, black pepper, and garlic at least 2hrs.

2. Cook the pork: Remove the pork from the marinade place and place it in a large pot with a lid. Add the crushed black pepper, Coke, pineapple juice, and pine apple tidbits. Bring the mixture to boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for about 1 1/2 hours, until the pork is tender and falls apart easily.

3. Braise the pork: After the initial simmering, increase the heat to medium-low and continue to cook for another 30 minutes, or until the sauce has thickened and the pork is coated in a rich, syrupy glaze.

4. Finishing touches: Remove the pot from the heat and let the pork rest for 10-15 minutes before serving.

5. Serve: Garnish with chopped scallions and serve hot with steamed rice.

Tips and Variations:

To make this dish more authentic, use a slow cooker or instant pot on the stovetop.

Adjust the amount of Coke to your taste. If you prepare a stronger Coke flavor, add more. If you prefer a milder flavor, use less.

You can also add other ingredients to the marinade or sauce, such as chopped onions, bell peppers, or bay leaves.

Serve with steamed vegetables or stir- fried greens for a well-rounded meal.

Enjoy Pork Humba!

[donovanlizzie]

THE CORPSWOMAN

CHAPTER SIX - IT'S MORE DANGEROUS AT NIGHT

It was now night time, Eugene and Evangeline were lent against a cement pillar watching a young marine who looked about 19, counting. Evangeline then called over to him." What you doin' Daniels?" He looked over petrified, traumatised.

"Counting Japs " He timidly states then turned back around to continue what he was doing.

Evangeline  and Eugene both exchanged worried glances and she began to pick her nails.  Gunner Henny then went over to the poor boy and tried to order him to help 2nd  platoon load up but Heldaine stopped him. "Gunner, go find someone else, maybe Jenkins over the other side ?"  Henny nodded and moved away. "He can come with me, help me count the bandages and get himself some shut eye?" Evangeline offered looking over. Heldaine nodded slightly and crept forward taking the gun from Daniels. She  got up and wrapped her arm around the boy.  "Let's get you some sleep ?" She quietly  spoke once she had managed to get him up. " But there are so many to count" he spoke like a small child as she  led him to the sickbay. " I know sweetheart I know" Evangeline choked out, her  heart breaking for him, the poor soul.

By the time 08:00 came around everyone was moving out again, the cook was walking around with a pot handing out pork chops.  They weren't the best but after having to eat tinned shit for the last few weeks Evangeline was happy to eat something solid and not out of date. She ended up walking next to Eugene whist Shelton Parked himself next to him on the other side. "Saw you reading last night" he said looking over at Eugene slyly, " writing too"  "My bible?" Eugene replied glancing at Shelton wearily. " we ain't suppose to write shit down, give the japs valuable intale if they find it" Shelton carried on. "I guess I won't show it to them then" Eugene replied keeping his eyes forward and waking with the rest of the group. Shelton smirked satisfied with his answer. 

Evangeline's smile faded remembering the similar conversation she and Oswald had the night prior. 

"You got a smoke?" Shelton asked. Eugene pulled out two cigarettes, one for himself and one for Shelton. "Thanks Sledgehammer" Shelton grinned popping the cigarette in his mouth. " Sledgehammer?" Evangeline questioned grinning at the new nickname Shelton had given her friend. "I like it" She looked at Shelton and Eugene new deemed 'sledgehammer' and gave him a half smile. " you got it Raggedy Anne" Shelton winked making her  laugh " throwing your self around like a rag doll out there" . " Jesus Christ" Bill spoke up in amusement as he scurried up behind us along with Burgin. " don't worry Bill Layden , we'll call you bull-peen-hammer" Shelton called back. " A little hammer for a little man" Evangeline  chuckled making the guys laugh. " Alright rags .... snafu" Bill shot back," shit n ass .... fuck up". "Is that the best nickname you could come up with?" Evangeline  laughed. "Oh! A little joke from the little man!" Shelton, now deemed 'snafu' , joked back.

             K company  all followed Heldaine like lost puppies up the rocks, he said to them that they would be setting a perimeter for the Japanese soldiers. Evangeline had zoned out of the conversation he was having with Bill and Eugene, when the Japs has caught sight of us and began to fire. "Pull back! Let's go!" Hillbilly shouted dragging her by her bag pack (much to Evangeline's dismay) back down the slope to cover. By that point both Heldaine and Hillbilly , hell, the whole company  were all desperate to get a hold of coms, every attempt made was unsuccessful.

K company was stuck, sat in a small rocky trench trying to say as low as they could do theJaps wouldn't try to blow their heads off.       " I'm gonna have to go back , get more men up here and the orders changed" Heldaine finally announced. " Hillbilly if I don't come back the company's yours" He tapped Hillbilly on the shoulder and quickly ran off. " He's gonna come back right?" Eugene asked  " Disobey and you get  a court-martial" Shelton mumbled leaning back on a rock with another cigarette in his teeth.  Whilst they were waiting the marine who was in charge of handing out the post was wandering around.  " Sledge, Yoet, you two have something" he said handing the both of them their letters. " Thanks" Evangeline  stated bluntly noticing her mothers hand writing and putting in it her Brest pocket to read later.

__________________ It was now pitch black, Flares lit up the foxholes as k company  were now sitting in  darkness waiting for Heldaine to to come back. Henny was making the rounds telling everyone to make sure they had enough ammo and supplies for the night.  Gunner Henny was about 45 years old and had fought in world war 1.  He was part of the old breed, liked to do things the old way and stick to them.  " Did you hear the bullshit about the dog?" He grumbled leaning into our foxhole. " They think a dog can smell a Jap before I see one!" He scoffed.  " I have a dog back home" Eugene started quietly " his name is Deacon"  

Evangeline  glanced over at him and smiled as Henny ignored his input and contained; " if the Japs come through , high point with fixed bayonets and you nail em with H.E you got that?" He explained it like we were children, 

The guys nodded as he got up to walk away but then he bent back down and said " woof" and then walking away as normal. " what the fuck was that?" Shelton asked as the group all looked at each other slightly confused try to hold their  laughter in as it was noise discipline.  "Hey stove top boys - WOOF" Bill repeated mimicking Henny making them  laugh even harder, causing Shelton to wheeze.  _____________ Evangeline was sat next to Shelton as he slept once again, picking her thumbs, waiting for japs to make a move or a marine to hurt  himself.  "Remind me again why on gods earth you joined ?" Eugene asked again.  She turned to look at him with her eyebrow raised, " like I told you before, I want to help people, I was in need of a better paying job and to make my country proud" she replied. " And to find out how my brother died"  "Making your ma and pa proud?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at her. "Hopefully" Evangeline smiled slightly " That reminds me I have to reply to that letter that they sent me once I've read it" she mused tapping her breast pocket. "Read it" Eugene stated, " I wanna hear it ... if that ok?" He asked scooting closer to her. " sure" she  replied getting the letter out of her pocket. " Dear Evangeline," She began " your father and i are so happy to hear that you are doing alright where ever you are. Everyone in town is very worried about you but myself and your father know you'll be smart and safe. We hope-"     Evangeline's  reading was cut short by a small whimper that echoed through the foxholes. herself and Eugene carefully peaked put of the foxhole we were in as the cries got louder and louder. "What's that?" Shelton getting up , still half asleep. "Sounds like some guy having a nightmare" Eugene answered, watching Evangeline fold away her letter. "He'd better shut up before every jap on the island knows where we are" Shelton snapped now wide awake. "Quiet that man down!" Hillbilly whisper-yelled as the marines whimpers turned into wails.     Suddenly the man started screaming, wrestling any marine who tried to hold him down. "Yoet!" Hillbilly called over " get some morphine in him!"  Evangeline quickly grabbed her morphine needles and rushed over as more and more marines fought to hold the man down. "NO-NO-NO!" The poor man was yelling hysterically. "Give me his arm now!" She spoke as he flailed about. Once she had finally got hold of his arm and she was inches away from injecting him when he broke free, punching her  straight on the nose. Evangeline groaned in pain reeling back as blood now poured from her face. The marines were struggling again to regain control of the man.    The poor man was now begging for help as Henny began to punch him n a attempt to knock him out and shut him up. " Henny! Stop! Let me get to his goddamn arm!" She shouted in desperation trying to reach him once again. "Hit him with something!" Jay began to shout. Out of the corner of her eye, Evangeline  saw another young marine reach for the shovel he used to dig his foxhole with.  "No! Don't!" She tried to stop him but it was to late. The shovel hit the Boys head with a crack and he was finally silenced - lifeless. "God damn it" she breathed sitting back on the muddy ground and closing her eyes. "Everyone back in their holes" Hillbilly spoke eyeing Evangeline and her bloodied face. It was clear the poor bastard had broken her nose. " It had to be done Yoet, it had to " Hillbilly handed her a handkerchief. She thanked him and held it up to her  face to try and stop the bleeding and slunk back to the  fox hole. ———————————————————————————-

The next morning a blanket had been pulled over the young mans body.  "Rather him than all of us" Eugene spoke his eyes flickering between the body and Evangeline. "Sledgehammers right" Shelton answered " It had to be done".  The rest of the dead and wounded got piled onto trucks and tanks to be taken back to base to either be shipped to Australia to heal or sent back home to their families for their funerals.

Evangeline then walked over to Eugene. " You know, I think I'll take that cigarette now" She spoke breathing out sharply. "Here" Eugene stated putting a lit cigarette between her  teeth and taking the bloodied hankie form her hands. She  took a quick puff as he delectably wiped more dried blood from her face, making her wince slightly. "I'm no corpsman Rags, but you've got a messed up nose" he grimaced now fiddling with the grubby handkerchief. " Wow Sledgehammer, you really know how to talk to a lady!" Evangeline joked taking another puff of the cigarette.

"Na she ain't no Lady, A Lady wouldn't come to a place like this" Bill teased, walking past the two of them, puffing on a tiny stump of a cigarette butt before throwing it at Shelton's feet.

" Thank you" Evangeline mumbled taking the handkerchief back and tossing it to the ground, slightly laughing at Bills remark.

" Can it snafu" She quickly snapped, the group all walked on as Shelton began to snigger.

[joemomma01]

'Cooking just ain't yo style' Chiffany story (Full version)

is doesn't make any sense!" Tiffany says, rereading the recipe she found on a cooking magazine.

"What doesn't make any sense tiff?" Chucky asked as he started to chop down on some of his pork rinds. Tiffany was trying to make a 'Seared Rib Eye Steak with Cinnamon' to try and impress chucky, but that didnt really go to well....

Tiffany was sitting on the kitchen counter trying to reread the recipe she had found sticking outside the dumpster located behind their apartment. The magazine was old, torn up, had sticky stuff everywhere that made it hard to open the book, and mud on it here and there. Chucky had absolutely no idea, why she decided to get a magazine out the trash. When she could simply go to there local dollar general that had plenty of different magazines for her. Cooking magazines I must say.

"Tiff, how about you just go and get another magazine. NOT from the dumpster." Chucky implied, while stuffing his mouth full. Tiffany shook her head, "From where then?"

"From the STORE?" He rolled his eyes and put his feet up on the mini living room table. Tiffany sighed. Chucky was right. She needed to get a new cooking book since she could BEARLY read or even use the one she had. Based on how messy it was. She stretched and went to put on her Criss-Cross Strapped heels on the shoe rack.

"I be back shortly" Tiffany said as she grabbed the keys and stumbled out the front door still trying to finish putting her heels on. Chucky nodded, and went back to whatever he was doing.

Later:

Tiffany rushed through the front door and immediately came into the kitchen. "Okay, Chucky I got a new magazine! And it's time to start cooking!" She said happily, little did she know Chucky was knocked out on the couch SLEEP.

She turned to the pages and found a new simple but fancy recipe for chucky. 'Baking-Sheet Pizza with Olives and Sun-Dried Tomatoes' She read. 'Okay.... Let's get this started.'

Ingredients:

⅓ cup extra-virgin olive oil, divided

1½ pounds pizza dough

1⅓ cups tomato sauce

1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1 cup grated mozzarella cheese

1½ cups diced provolone cheese

½ red onion, thinly sliced

1 cup oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes

1½ cups pitted marinated olives

Directions:

. Preheat the oven to 450°F. Grease a baking sheet with 3 tablespoons of the extra-virgin olive oil

Gently stretch the pizza dough over the baking sheet and then use your fingers to stipple the dough further. Brush the surface of the dough with the remaining olive oil and let it rest for 15 to 20 minutes.

Stipple the dough again; it should now stretch to the edge of the baking sheet. Spread the tomato sauce evenly over the dough.

Sprinkle the Parmesan, mozzarella and provolone evenly over the sauce. Arrange the red onion, sun-dried tomatoes and olives in an even layer.

Transfer the baking sheet to the oven and bake until the cheese is melted and golden brown and the crust is well browned, 18 to 20 minutes.

Let cool 5 to 10 minutes before cutting and serving warm.

"Hmmm, This might be interesting...." Tiffany smiled as she started to dump all the ingredients forgetting to read the directions. She mixed, and mixed, and mixed, all the ingredients into 3 bowls before putting into a cooking pan.

Chucky had just woke up cracking his back walking up to Tiffany. "WHAT THE HE-" Tiffany cut him off. "Gosh Chucky, I know, it doesn't look good does it?" Chucky looked at the pan. It looked like a swamp ngl. "It looks very uhm.... Interesting? Something new." Chucky lied and Tiff rolled her eyes. "Have u atleast cooked it?" I don't know if I should. It doesn't look good now, nor' does it smell any good, if I finish making it it might not be any better." Tiffany sighed. Chucky tried to hold back his laughter of how much Tiffany didn't know how to do correctly.

"Well we should just chill and eat pork rinds, try again tomorrow?" Chucky suggested. Tiffany nodded upsetting. "I guess cooking isn't my style." She turned around to face Chucky. "Yeah, Cooking just ain't yo style" He shrugged looking back, before giving Tiffany a warm hug to comfort her. She smiled and looked up at him. "Lets go to a restaurant instead." He snickered.

Srry if it's kinda bad... I kinda got lazy at the end. (And yes, I did put a real recipe there.) Fanfic finished for @teoleeray

[foodvips]

World's Best Honey Garlic Pork Chops How Can I Make It?

Are you ready to embark on a culinary adventure that will tantalize your taste buds like never before? Get ready to learn the secrets of making the world's best honey garlic pork chops! This mouthwatering dish is a perfect blend of sweet and savory flavors, guaranteed to leave you craving for more. When it comes to making the perfect honey garlic pork chops, choosing the right cut of pork is crucial. Opt for cuts that are tender and juicy, such as bone-in pork chops or pork loin chops. These cuts have just the right amount of fat to keep the meat moist and flavorful during cooking. The key to achieving maximum flavor and tenderness lies in marinating the pork chops. Our honey garlic marinade is the secret ingredient that will take your pork chops to the next level. To prepare the marinade, gather the essential ingredients – honey, soy sauce, minced garlic, ginger, and a touch of brown sugar for a hint of sweetness. Combine these ingredients in a bowl and mix well to create a delectable marinade. Now comes the important part – marinating the pork chops. Place the pork chops in a shallow dish or a resealable plastic bag, and pour the marinade over them. Make sure the marinade coats the chops evenly. For optimal flavor, marinate the pork chops for at least 30 minutes, but if you have the time, letting them marinate for a few hours or overnight will result in even more flavorful chops. Once the pork chops are marinated to perfection, it's time to cook them. Heat a grill or a skillet over medium-high heat and cook the chops for about 4-5 minutes per side, or until they reach an internal temperature of 145°F (63°C). The honey in the marinade will create a beautiful caramelized crust on the outside, while keeping the inside juicy and tender. Now that you've mastered the art of making the most delicious honey garlic pork chops, it's time to think about serving suggestions. These chops pair perfectly with a variety of side dishes, such as roasted vegetables or creamy mashed potatoes. You can also elevate the flavors with a tangy apple chutney or a zesty mustard sauce. So, what are you waiting for? Get ready to wow your taste buds with the world's best honey garlic pork chops! Follow our easy-to-follow recipe, and you'll be enjoying a truly unforgettable meal in no time.

Choosing the Right Cut of Pork

When it comes to making the most delicious honey garlic pork chops, choosing the right cut of pork is essential. The right cut of pork can make all the difference in achieving tender and juicy pork chops that are bursting with flavor. So, which cuts of pork are best for this mouthwatering dish? One of the top choices for honey garlic pork chops is the boneless pork loin chops. These chops are lean and tender, making them perfect for marinating and cooking to perfection. The boneless pork loin chops are thick and juicy, allowing them to absorb the flavors of the honey garlic marinade beautifully. Another excellent option is the bone-in pork chops. The bone-in chops have a bit more fat and connective tissue, which adds extra flavor and moisture to the meat. This makes them incredibly succulent and flavorful when cooked with the honey garlic marinade. If you prefer a leaner cut, pork tenderloin is an excellent choice. Tenderloin is a lean and tender cut of pork that is incredibly versatile. It can be sliced into medallions or cooked whole, making it a great option for honey garlic pork chops. Ultimately, the choice of the cut of pork comes down to personal preference. Whether you opt for boneless pork loin chops, bone-in pork chops, or pork tenderloin, each cut has its own unique qualities that contribute to the overall taste and texture of the honey garlic pork chops. Now that you know which cuts of pork are best for making tender and juicy honey garlic pork chops, it's time to move on to the next step: marinating the pork. The marinade is what infuses the pork with incredible flavor and tenderness, taking your honey garlic pork chops to the next level of deliciousness.

Marinating the Pork

Marinating the pork is a crucial step in creating the most flavorful and tender honey garlic pork chops. The right marinade can infuse the meat with incredible flavor, making each bite a burst of deliciousness. In this article, we will guide you through the process of creating the perfect honey garlic marinade that will elevate your pork chops to a whole new level. When it comes to marinating the pork, the key is to strike the perfect balance between sweetness and savory flavors. The honey garlic marinade does just that, combining the natural sweetness of honey with the aromatic and pungent flavors of garlic. This dynamic duo creates a mouthwatering combination that will have your taste buds dancing with joy. To create the honey garlic marinade, you will need a few essential ingredients. Start with a generous amount of honey, which will provide the sweetness and help to caramelize the pork chops as they cook. Next, add minced garlic to infuse the meat with its distinctive flavor. For an extra kick, you can also include some soy sauce or Worcestershire sauce to add depth and umami to the marinade. Once you have gathered all the ingredients, it's time to prepare the marinade. In a bowl, mix together the honey, minced garlic, soy sauce, and any other optional ingredients you choose to include. Stir well to ensure that all the flavors are evenly distributed. You can also add some salt and pepper to taste, enhancing the overall seasoning of the marinade. Now that your honey garlic marinade is ready, it's time to marinate the pork chops. Place the pork chops in a shallow dish or a resealable plastic bag and pour the marinade over them. Make sure that the pork chops are fully coated in the marinade, allowing the flavors to penetrate the meat. For optimal taste, refrigerate the marinated pork chops for at least 2 hours, or overnight if time allows. This will give the flavors ample time to develop and infuse the meat with their deliciousness. When it's time to cook the pork chops, you can choose from various methods such as grilling, baking, or pan-frying. Whichever method you prefer, make sure to cook the pork chops until they reach the recommended internal temperature to ensure they are safe to eat. The honey garlic marinade will help to keep the pork chops juicy and flavorful throughout the cooking process. Once the pork chops are cooked to perfection, serve them with your favorite side dishes and accompaniments. The honey garlic flavor pairs wonderfully with roasted vegetables, creamy mashed potatoes, or even a fresh salad. You can also experiment with different sauces and condiments to enhance the taste of your honey garlic pork chops, such as a tangy apple chutney or a zesty mustard sauce. In conclusion, marinating the pork chops with a honey garlic marinade is the secret to achieving incredible flavor and tenderness. By following the steps outlined in this article, you will be able to create the most delicious honey garlic pork chops that will leave everyone craving for more. So, get ready to surprise and delight your taste buds with this mouthwatering dish! Preparing the Marinade Preparing the Marinade Creating a mouthwatering honey garlic marinade for your pork chops is easier than you think. Follow these simple steps to infuse your pork with incredible flavor and tenderness. 1. Gather the ingredients: To create the perfect balance of sweet and savory flavors, you'll need the following ingredients: - 1/4 cup honey - 3 cloves of garlic, minced - 2 tablespoons soy sauce - 1 tablespoon olive oil - 1 tablespoon brown sugar - 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce - 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper 2. Mix the marinade: In a bowl, combine the honey, minced garlic, soy sauce, olive oil, brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce, and ground black pepper. Stir well to ensure all the ingredients are thoroughly combined. 3. Marinating the pork chops: Place the pork chops in a resealable plastic bag or a shallow dish. Pour the marinade over the pork chops, ensuring they are completely coated. Massage the marinade into the meat to ensure it penetrates the pork chops for maximum flavor. 4. Refrigerate and marinate: Seal the bag or cover the dish with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or preferably overnight. Marinating the pork chops for a longer period allows the flavors to fully develop and tenderize the meat. 5. Remove from the marinade: Before cooking the pork chops, remove them from the marinade and let any excess marinade drip off. Discard the remaining marinade. Now that you've learned the step-by-step process of preparing a mouthwatering honey garlic marinade, you're ready to take your pork chops to the next level of deliciousness. The flavors will infuse the meat, resulting in tender, juicy, and flavorful honey garlic pork chops that will leave your taste buds craving for more. Choosing the Ingredients When it comes to creating the perfect honey garlic marinade for your pork chops, choosing the right ingredients is key. You want to achieve a delicate balance of sweet and savory flavors that will tantalize your taste buds. Here are the essential ingredients you'll need: - Honey: This natural sweetener will add a touch of sweetness to the marinade. Opt for a high-quality honey for the best flavor. - Soy sauce: The salty and umami flavors of soy sauce will help to enhance the savory profile of the marinade. - Garlic: As the star ingredient, garlic will infuse the marinade with its aromatic and pungent flavors. Be generous with the amount of garlic you use. - Ginger: Fresh ginger adds a subtle warmth and depth to the marinade. Grate or mince the ginger for the best results. - Sesame oil: A small amount of sesame oil can add a nutty and fragrant note to the marinade. - Black pepper: Freshly ground black pepper will give the marinade a hint of spiciness and complexity. These ingredients work together harmoniously to create a marinade that will elevate the flavor of your pork chops. The sweetness of the honey balances out the savory notes from the soy sauce, while the garlic and ginger add depth and complexity. The sesame oil and black pepper provide additional layers of flavor that will make your taste buds sing. Remember, the quality of your ingredients will greatly impact the final result. Use fresh garlic and ginger for the best flavor, and opt for high-quality honey and soy sauce. Experiment with the ratios of these ingredients to find your perfect balance of flavors. Whether you're cooking for a special occasion or simply craving a delicious meal, these carefully chosen ingredients will ensure that your honey garlic pork chops are bursting with flavor. Marinating Time and Techniques Marinating Time and Techniques When it comes to marinating pork chops for the most optimal taste, there are a variety of techniques and marinating times to consider. Each method offers its own unique flavor profile, allowing you to customize your honey garlic pork chops to your personal preference. Let's explore some of the different marinating methods and learn how long to marinate the pork chops for the best results. 1. Quick Marination: If you're short on time but still want to infuse your pork chops with flavor, a quick marination method is the way to go. Simply combine the honey garlic marinade with the pork chops in a resealable bag and let them marinate for at least 30 minutes. This will allow the flavors to penetrate the meat and give it a delicious taste. 2. Overnight Marination: For a more intense flavor, consider marinating the pork chops overnight. This method involves preparing the marinade and placing the pork chops in a container or a resealable bag. Allow the pork chops to marinate in the refrigerator for a minimum of 8 hours or overnight. The longer marinating time allows the flavors to fully develop and results in incredibly tender and flavorful pork chops. 3. Vacuum Marination: If you want to take your marinating game to the next level, consider using a vacuum sealer. This technique involves placing the pork chops and marinade in a vacuum-sealed bag and removing all the air. The vacuum seal ensures that the marinade penetrates every inch of the meat, resulting in maximum flavor absorption. Depending on the thickness of the pork chops, you can marinate them for 2-4 hours for optimal taste. 4. Injection Marination: For a more unique and intense flavor experience, try injection marination. This method involves using a marinade injector to inject the honey garlic marinade directly into the pork chops. By injecting the marinade, you ensure that the flavors are distributed evenly throughout the meat. This technique is especially effective for thicker cuts of pork chops. After injecting, let the pork chops rest for about 1 hour before cooking to allow the flavors to settle. Remember, the marinating time and technique you choose will greatly impact the taste and tenderness of your honey garlic pork chops. Experiment with different methods to find your favorite and enjoy the explosion of flavors that await!

Cooking the Pork Chops When it comes to cooking honey garlic pork chops, mastering the art of cooking them to perfection is essential. You want your pork chops to be juicy and flavorful every time, and with the right techniques, you can achieve just that. First and foremost, it's important to choose the right cooking method for your pork chops. Whether you prefer grilling, pan-frying, or baking, each method can yield delicious results. Grilling gives the pork chops a smoky flavor and beautiful grill marks, while pan-frying creates a crispy exterior. Baking is a great option if you want a more hands-off approach. Once you've decided on the cooking method, it's time to season your pork chops. A simple salt and pepper seasoning is a good starting point, but to take your honey garlic pork chops to the next level, consider adding additional spices and herbs. For example, a combination of paprika, garlic powder, and thyme can add depth of flavor. Now, let's talk about the cooking process itself. If you're grilling or pan-frying, preheat your grill or pan to medium-high heat. This will ensure that your pork chops cook evenly and develop a nice crust. If you're baking, preheat your oven to the desired temperature specified in your recipe. When cooking the pork chops, be mindful of the cooking time. Overcooking can result in dry and tough pork chops, while undercooking can be unsafe to consume. The internal temperature of cooked pork should reach 145°F (63°C) for optimal safety and juiciness. Use a meat thermometer to accurately gauge the temperature. While cooking, baste the pork chops with the honey garlic marinade to infuse them with even more flavor. This will also help keep the pork chops moist throughout the cooking process. Be careful not to overdo it, as too much marinade can cause the exterior to become sticky or burnt. Once the pork chops are cooked to perfection, remove them from the heat and let them rest for a few minutes before serving. This allows the juices to redistribute and ensures that the pork chops remain juicy. Now that you've mastered the art of cooking honey garlic pork chops, you can enjoy them anytime you want. Whether you're hosting a dinner party or simply cooking for yourself, these juicy and flavorful pork chops are sure to impress.

Serving Suggestions

Serving Suggestions When it comes to serving honey garlic pork chops, the possibilities are endless. Whether you're hosting a dinner party or simply cooking for your family, there are plenty of creative ideas for side dishes and accompaniments that will perfectly complement the flavors of this delicious dish. One popular option is to serve the pork chops with a side of roasted vegetables. The caramelized flavors of the vegetables pair beautifully with the sweet and savory taste of the honey garlic marinade. You can roast a medley of colorful vegetables such as carrots, bell peppers, and zucchini, or choose your favorites to create a unique combination. If you're looking for something a bit more indulgent, creamy mashed potatoes are always a crowd-pleaser. The smooth and velvety texture of the potatoes provides a comforting contrast to the tender pork chops. To take it up a notch, you can add some garlic or herbs to the mashed potatoes for an extra burst of flavor. For those who enjoy a bit of tanginess, consider serving the pork chops with a side of apple chutney. The sweet and tart flavors of the chutney complement the richness of the pork and add a refreshing element to the dish. You can make your own apple chutney by simmering diced apples with sugar, vinegar, and spices until they are soft and jam-like. If you prefer a sauce or condiment to accompany your pork chops, there are plenty of options to choose from. A zesty mustard sauce can add a tangy kick to the dish, while a creamy mushroom sauce can provide a luxurious touch. You can also serve the pork chops with a side of tangy coleslaw or a fresh green salad for a lighter option. Remember, the key is to experiment and have fun with your serving suggestions. Don't be afraid to get creative and try new flavors and combinations. With honey garlic pork chops as the star of the show, you're sure to impress your guests or satisfy your family's taste buds with these delicious side dishes and accompaniments. Side Dishes When it comes to serving honey garlic pork chops, the right side dishes can take your meal to the next level. These flavorful chops pair perfectly with a variety of accompaniments that enhance their savory and sweet flavors. From roasted vegetables to creamy mashed potatoes, there are plenty of options to choose from. Roasted Vegetables: One popular side dish to serve with honey garlic pork chops is a medley of roasted vegetables. The combination of tender, caramelized vegetables with the juicy chops creates a delicious contrast of flavors and textures. You can roast a mix of your favorite vegetables, such as carrots, bell peppers, zucchini, and Brussels sprouts, with some olive oil, salt, and pepper for a simple yet satisfying side dish. Creamy Mashed Potatoes: Another classic side dish that pairs well with honey garlic pork chops is creamy mashed potatoes. The smooth and buttery texture of the mashed potatoes complements the rich flavors of the pork chops. Read the full article

[quieteating]

New Post has been published on Quieteating

New Post has been published on https://is.gd/Knc8CL

Jin Kichi

At times, my friends call me a moaner.

At times, they are right.

One particular thing I like to constantly complain about, is the lack of decent Japanese food in London.  I’m not talking about Itsu and Wasabi or even Wagamama.  That’s fake Japanese which is something to offend as much as drinking beer out of wine glasses.  When people ask me why it disgusts my sensibilities so, I fall back to the time tested remark, it just isn’t something that is done.

So if you want to try some real Japanese food in London, you have something of a quandary at hand.  On account of it being either obscenely hard to get in (Sushi Testsu), or just unashamedly not pretending to be that authentic (but thankfully still good (Temaki).  There is of course the stalwart I like, Kiku, although inflation is pushing that price up a bit too much (50% is kind of a lot).  Then there is the place which has a bit too much excitement and a rather rude owner (Jugemu) but much as I like the food there, I do prefer a certain modicum of service.  So in leafy, rather pleasant and much too expensive Hampstead, is a small Japanese restaurant staffed by native staff.

Tori kara, seasoned and sliced chicken, deep fried in batter served with Ponzu sauce.  This was rather crispy, oil free and nicely complemented by the ponzu sauce.  If I could level some criticism, it would be that the meat wasn’t as juicy as I would have preferred, as I suspect they didn’t use leg meat for this.  No matter, it still made me happy.

Shiso maki, grilled skewer of shiso leaf and pork rolls with Teriyaki sauce.  Alright, if fairly nondescript.  Minced pork balls wrapped in a spiced leaf, although the shiso just wasn’t strong enough to make a noticeable difference.

Tsukune, grilled skewer of chicken meatballs with Yakitori sauce.  Crispy on the outside, meltingly delicious inside.  Something to try again.

Negitoro, Chopped Fatty Tuna with Yellow Pickled roll.  Meaty and filling, you could also be forgiven for thinking this was some type of minced meat.  Instead, clear deep tuna flavour shone through.

Take, today’s 10 piece chef’s selection.  Flounder, tuna, salmon, fish roe, prawn, mackerel, octopus, yellow tail, red snapper, squid.  Great, even if I have had better elsewhere.  What let this down was the temperature control.  The fish and the rice seemed to be rather warm where as I prefer a slightly more chilled sushi to highlight the taste of the seafood set off with vinegar rice.

Yakinasu, grilled aubergine with Bonito flakes.  Here, I demonstrate one my many failings.  An example of not getting what I wanted.  Although an accurate description, I had thought (and hoped) that this would be similar to the grilled aubergine with miso paste I’ve had on top.  This instead was lacking the heavier flavouring we sought.  On the plus side, the texture was good.

Gyutan, grilled skewer of ox tongue with salt.  I do not know why more places do not offer this.  It was deliciously chewy and bursting with umami. Of the many off cuts I would eat in yakitori joints back in Japan, ox tongue and chicken heart were my favourites.  Although, I didn’t see the latter on the menu.

Gindara, grilled black cod marinated in white miso served with ginger.  They had gone a little too easy on the miso here, as the taste was not as deep as I expected and preferred.  It was decent though.  Then again, perhaps it is my fault for having this previously at western Japanese joints, which tend to slather the cod perhaps overzealously.

Buta Shouga, pan-fried sliced pork with ginger sauce and spicy Miso served from hot pan.  Great with caramelized onion as you got caramelized miso and rather addictive as you picked up the small onions in which all the pork juice had coagulated.

Una Kyu, grilled eel with cucumber and sesame roll.  In my desperate search for eel in London, I couldn’t resist this when I saw it on the menu.  I would often dream of this, as during my first residency in Japan, a kind friend treated me to unagi.  That Changed My Life.  This poor eel did not do that justice.  Instead, wrapped up in rice, it was rather sadly done as it seemed that being wrapped up in rice made the eel strangely bouncy and robbed it of its flavour.

Yama Gobo, pickled mountain burdock with sesame.  Crunchy and refreshing.  A fitting way to finish this off.

Green tea.  To complement the above, between bites, I washed things down with some green tea.  A apt refreshing cleanser.

I have recently been reminded of the sandwich method of feedback.  Otherwise known by its more rude moniker, the s*** sandwich.  So I guess the same can be applied to my critique.  The majority of the dishes were good, clearly of better standard than most other places in London for Japanese food, the atmosphere slightly cramped but authentic in that way, but the spark of something excellent was missing.  Not that the food was bad, by and by it was better than decent, but it missed that next step in evolution to make it something special.  However, at this price, life is too short and I have other places to try instead, especially given the trek it took to get here.  However, if I could afford to live around this area, I would probably be returning a more than healthy amount.

  A quiet eating 8/10.

Dinner (all of the above for 2 people) was GBP80 per person excluding drinks and service.

  Jin Kichi

73 Heath St, London NW3 6UG

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 6: I’ve Got a Bad Queso Loving You

Pining. Food that may or may not be a disaster. The end of an era.

Also people actually wanted to be tagged for updates?? That makes my heart so happy <3

Tag List: @heyoitslysso @unknown-and-invisible

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

@lumosinlove

  It was weird, walking into the studio by himself for the first time. Finn kept expecting Logan to be right by his side like always and it hurt a little every time Finn remembered. He walked into the kitchens where he was greeted by a sunny smile and kind eyes and dimples.

He still missed Logan, but it was hard to mope with Leo Knut around.

“Hey,” Leo greeted, motioning for Finn to join him at the station. “Welcome to the final four.”

“Thanks. It feels weird here.”

Leo hummed. “Quiet, right?”

“Definitely less hectic.” Finn agreed, leaning his hip against the counter. “So what are we cooking today?”

“Well, why don’t you tell me? We’re cooking for someone special to you. I’m assuming that’s Logan, right?” At Finn’s nod a strange, unreadable expression flashed across Leo’s face before he continued. “Okay, so what types of food do you think of when you think of him?”

Finn thought about it, then smiled. “Our first date – after years and years of being friends and crushing on each other but refusing to do anything about it – was at a Mexican restaurant. We were on a roadie and went to go get dinner together and I was so frustrated at this point that I kind of just blurted, ‘Is this a date?���” Finn laughed a little at the memory. “And Lo, he just stared at me with those big green eyes of his for a moment and said, ‘I sure hope so.’ And that was it. No more drama, no more fuss. Just those two sentences – that was all we needed.”

The look from earlier was back on Leo’s face. Finn still didn’t know what it meant.

“I think we can definitely work with that.” He said finally. “How about we elevate a Mexican dish? Something to be meaningful but to also showcase your cooking? I've got a few recipes in mind. What about grilled citrus-marinated chicken?”

Finn wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“Alright. Pulled pork tamales with corn salsa? Polenta stacks? Chipotle Mahi Mahi burrito bowl?”

“Oh!” Finn said excitedly. “I like that one. Logan calls me Fish sometimes.”

Leo laughed. “Why?”

“Nicknames are kind of a thing in hockey. It’s considered weird if you don’t have one. I’m Harzy, Harz, Fish, and probably a few more that I’m forgetting.”

“And Logan?”

“He’s Tremz or Tremzy, usually.” He looked over at the blond, propping his chin in his hand and smiling. “You want a nickname?”

“Oh, god. With a last name like Knut, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to go off of.” He laughed, turning to head towards the pantry. Finn followed after him like the love-struck puppy he was.

“Nut. Nutty. Peanut. Peanut butter. Nutter Butter. Honey bunches of nut – “

“How have you already come up with so many?” Leo stretched to grab a bowl off the top shelf, his t-shirt shifting up to reveal pale skin Finn desperately wanted to reach out and touch.

“I’m a professional hockey player.”

“Fair enough. Can you head to the spices and grab smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder?”

Finn grabbed the ingredients and met Leo back at the station. “Ready to get started? You’ll get the printed recipe and you can take as many notes as you want now and use them tonight.”

Finn clicked his pen in response, earning another smile. “Let’s do this.”

“So we’re going to combine olive oil, chipotle chiles, garlic, smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder into a bowl and whisk it really good. Then you can add the mahi mahi and toss it in there. Next we’re going to place it in the fridge while we start the rice.” Leo covered the bowl and set it in the fridge before reaching for a pot and turning the stove on.

“Add coconut milk and some coconut water to a pot and bring it to a low boil before adding rice, salt, unsweetened coconut and coconut oil. Stir to combine, then place the lid on the pot and turn the heat down to the lowest setting possible. Following so far?”

Finn nodded, definitely feeling a little overwhelmed.

Leo gave him a reassuring smile. “You got this. Next, let the rice to cook for ten minutes then turn the heat off completely. Let the rice sit on the stove, covered for another 20 minutes, then remove the lid and fluff the rice with a fork. Add the cilantro and lime juice – “

“No cilantro.”

Leo looked up from his pot. “What?”

“No cilantro.” Finn repeated. “Lo doesn’t like cilantro.”

“Got it. No cilantro. I think we’ve got enough seasoning without it.” Leo grabbed another bowl and pushed some ingredients towards him on the counter.

“Now we’re going to make the salsa. Add the diced mango, chopped strawberries, jalapeño, lime juice, pinch of cayenne and a pinch of salt to a bowl. Toss it, cover it, and keep it in the fridge until ready to serve. Now we’re going to cook that fish.” Leo grabbed the fish out of the fridge and sent him a sly look. “Hopefully this doesn’t count as cannibalism.”

Finn laughed loudly. “Oh man, wait until Logan hears that.”

Leo fiddled with the settings on the grill, which made Finn a little nervous. As seen in the build your own burger competition, he wasn’t the best with grills. He’d scared away all the ducks with how loud he screamed when he turned the grill on too high and flames erupted from it.

“You’re going to want a medium heat to cook this fish. Once the grill is nice and hot, add the mahi mahi, skin side facing up. Cook these for about 4-5 minutes and then flip them and cook until they’re crisp and mostly cooked through. This is super important: remove the skin.  We’re going to be cutting this fish into chunks and having pieces of fish skin in there would be really gross.

“Last thing is to plate these. All you’re going to do is divide the rice among your tortilla bowls and add the lettuce, black beans, and corn. Divide up the fish and then top each bowl with salsa, queso, and a dollop of sour cream. And you’re done!” Leo looked over at Finn, who was still writing notes. “Not so bad, right?”

Finn gave him a blank stare, then ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Go over it again one more time?”

“Sure.” Leo pushed one of the plates over to Finn. “Want to try some first?”

“Fuck yes.”

***

Logan stood in the studio hallway yet again, waiting with the rest of the families the final four contestants were cooking for tonight. It was going to be weird, being on the opposite side of the judging table. But at least he wasn’t cooking.

They finally got the cue to enter the kitchen and his eyes immediately found Finn, who was grinning madly and running right at him – whether he was allowed to or not. Logan laughed as Finn collided with him, hugging him close. “You just saw me this morning.”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

Logan melted a little at that and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

Finn whined, shooting a longing look over at Leo. “Lo, you would not believe – “

“Please head back to your stations, recruits!” Dorcas called.

“Gotta go.” Finn sighed, taking a step back. Logan gave his hand a squeeze.

“You’ve got this.”

“Recruits, tonight you’ll be creating dishes for your loved ones. And your team leaders, of course. You can use any notes you’ve taken. You have an hour to complete this task and your time starts… now!”

Logan took his seat at the judges table (weird) and watched as Finn dashed off to the pantry. He made small talk with the other family members as time began to tick down much slower than he remembered from his time on the show. He turned his head when Leo sat down next to him and smiled almost nervously.

“I hope you’re not too mad at me for last week.”

“Nah,” Logan said with a shrug, doing everything he could think of to slow his heartrate down. “I deserved it. I served you guys raw pizza dough.”

“Only because I suggested you start over.”

Logan laughed incredulously. “Because my pizza wasn’t a pizza! Seriously, don’t worry about it.” He looked over at Finn, who was shying away from the grill as he threw the fish on it. “I’m glad he made it instead of me. He’s been so excited to be on this show.”

“He’s really improved a lot. You both did.”

“I’m still not sure I trust either of us in the kitchen.”

“Baby steps.” Leo said with a smile. “You’re more capable than you think.”

He glanced at the clock and let his voice carry to the contestants. “One minute left, recruits!”

Finn glanced up from his plating, cursed, and started working faster.

“Five, four, three, two, one, time’s up! Stop what you’re doing and step away from your plates!”

“I can see why you like this so much.” Logan said, eyes still on Finn as he looked down at his plates critically. “You get to sit here, no stress, and eat people’s food. This is the dream.”

“Not on this show. You should’ve tried some of the earlier dishes this season. I got food poisoning twice.”

“You did what?”

“It might’ve been three times if I’d eaten that chicken you tried to serve in the first challenge.” Leo teased.

“Why isn’t giving a chef food poisoning an immediate elimination?”

“Because then we’d have very few recruits left, and that would be a very short season.”

Finn set down his plates, smiling nervously. Logan looked down and smiled softly. “Mexican food.”

“No cilantro, just how you like it.”

God, Logan didn’t deserve him.

“Let’s see how this tastes.” Leo said, looking down at his plate. “The presentation is really nice.”

They both took bites of their food. The fish was dry, but Logan thought the rest of it was really good.

“It’s under-seasoned a little bit,” Leo commented. “And the fish is a little dry, but your salsa is perfect and the ratios of everything else in the bowl is very nice.”

Logan grinned up at Finn. “I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing this recipe home.”

“We need move on to the next contestant. Nice job, Finn.”

Finn beamed and grabbed his plates back.

***

“And the chef who will be leaving us tonight is…” Logan held Finn’s hand and waited for Leo to finish.

“Finn. I’m sorry, your time as a recruit is over. Please turn in your apron.”

Finn sighed, squeezed Logan’s hand, and stepped forward.

“It was really close, but in the end the under-seasoned and overcooked fish did you in.” Leo said, looking apologetic. “I’ve really enjoyed having you on the show. You’ve been a joy to teach.”

“Thanks for having me.” Finn said, trying to be cheerful as he handed over his apron. “I had a blast.”

After the cameras stopped rolling, Logan and Finn made sure to find Leo before they left. He was scrubbing down the grill and looked up when he noticed them. “So this is goodbye, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Logan replied, unabashedly staring and trying to memorize everything he could. Was it weird to miss someone when you hadn’t even said goodbye yet? When they were standing right in front of you? 

Finn piped up, “If you’re ever in Gryffindor, look us up. We’d love to see you.”

“Same for when you come to New York for games.” Leo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Here,” Finn grabbed his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number? We can send you our team schedule when we get it.”

Finn, you’re a genius.

“That would be great! I, uh, I really liked having y’all on the show. It’d be nice to see each other again.” His cheeks were red again, and Logan had to bite back a whine. He wanted to kiss those red spots so badly.

But this definitely wasn’t the time. There were people everywhere, two of them were probably leaving in the morning, and they didn’t know when they’d see him again. Or if he even liked them back.

Fuck.

Both Logan and Finn had forgotten just how awful the guessing game really was.

[missinghan]

give it a chance ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : college au; roommates au; friends to lovers au

❖ word count : 9,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slightly suggestive & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you convinced yourself to attend a party in order to prevent Lee Minho from doing stupid things; however it’s not so stupid anymore when your roommate said he needed to tell you something important.

❖ a/n : the continuation of what if we is dedicated to @chaninfused, so *clears throat* this is where I hereby declare that she deserves more than what the entire universe can possibly give her; oh hi furat, this is why I’ve been so cryptic all this time. I know this isn’t much but I want to thank you for tolerating me and letting me be mean to you even though we only started talking for a few months; you’re an incredibly great friend and an amazing writer, don’t ever forget that 🖤

one.

It’s been almost a week since Jisung last talked to Minho (albeit texts and FaceTime) and he wakes up to his best friend roaming around his crusty kitchen, struggling to find a bottle of honey. Seungmin’s mom has been constantly sending them thirty packets of rib soup per week. And Minho thinks the sight of Han Jisung slurping on nothing but distorted rice with pork ribs while stressing over his paper for seven days straight is more tragic than his non-existent love life.

“It’s like you’re trying to turn us into gym rats,” Hyunjin snickers lazily, flinging his bangs away from his face. “You even brought us Tupperwares, are you really expecting us not to order tacos impulsively on study nights?” He’s a little dubious about stuff like this because he can feel the actual horror of only eating chicken breast and string beans just by seeing Chan cooking them up. 

Seungmin chucks a piece of lettuce towards his direction, “Don’t you have anything else to do other than complaining?” He knows that when Jisung and Hyunjin decide to order food on study nights, they’re gonna do anything but study.

“Uhm, I actually do,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m going through Minho’s phone.”

Jisung takes a seat next to him by the counter, propping his head onto his hands, “What’s the point? There’s nothing but cat photos and cat memes...and also Y/N as his background.”

“That angle is hideous, by the way,” Hyunjin comments like the true photography geek he is, which is completely ignored by Minho because he’s too cranky to start a fight at ten in the morning. “But it’s kinda cute for you to do that, so I’m gonna turn a blind eye.”

Jisung asks out of the blue, “Who’s going to BamBam’s party this Sunday? Well, besides the other two-thirds of 3RACHA.” 

“I have a midterm on Monday, dumbass,” Seungmin mumbles while washing his vegetables at the sink. 

“And I’m sleeping over at Lix’s for a project,” Hyunjin informs him lamely, having no intention to attend another single frat party. At least not BamBam’s frat parties—that guy has the weirdest friends; a chick was so drunk that she thought Hyunjin was her boyfriend and almost tried to make out with him on the dance floor. 

Jisung secretly hates going to parties without his friends- no, actually, he never goes to parties without people from his social circle because he dreads the whole introduction part that requires formalities and inevitable awkwardness. But it’s not like that with Minho, ten minutes into their very first conversation and he feels like he’s known him for years. 

In short, he will die if Minho doesn’t come to the party. Chan can only chat with him for so long until his DJ duty occurs and Changbin’s probably gonna be too busy doing keg stands to care about his antisocial friend. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” Minho gives in while chopping up the chicken breasts and this prompts Jisung to clap happily like a seal for the next twenty seconds as he skips over to the fridge to fetch a water bottle. “But we’re gonna need a ride, I’m not taking my motorbike for some crackhead to puke on it. Ask Chan later when you crash at his place.”

Jisung tosses his head back to take a peek at the clock hanging by the bookshelf, and it reads 10:07 AM. He really should be getting for his class at eleven because traffic sucks but he’s not feeling like sitting through two hours of Park ranting about marketing strategies. “Can’t Y/N just drive us? I don’t think she’d let anyone else take you home when you’re not sober,” he ponders, earning a nod of agreement from both of his roommates. 

Just when Minho opens his mouth to brush it off, he stops himself to process the information again and holds back a ‘you’re right’ because he hates letting people know that they’re not wrong. He wouldn’t let anyone drive you home when you’re drunk either. “Her car’s with her dad right now,” he tries to sound casual when three pairs of curious eyes are glued onto his back. “I, uh, sorta had it run into a tree last week.”

“You what? How are you still alive?” Hyunjin’s jaw is on the floor and Seungmin accidentally dumps too much vinegar into his salad while Jisung’s choking on the iced cold water, coughing furiously after into the sleeve of his hoodie. Guess Chan’s gonna have to drive them both. After all, he can never say ‘no’ to J.One. 

Minho murmurs, “A dude rear-ended me, fucking idiot.” He finishes marinating the chicken breasts and arranges them nicely onto a tray with aluminum foil on top, pushing it into the preheated oven. “And basically she’s never letting me touch her car again,” he sighs while staring into midair dreamily, flashbacking to last Friday when you immediately Ubered yourself all the way from campus to downtown after picking up his call. All he got was thirty seconds of affection; you made sure that he’s not hurt and the rest was just a monstrous tantrum. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

“My my, you two are just like an old married couple,” Hyunjin chuckles lightheartedly and shakes his head, scrolling through the series of texts in amusement, “What even is this? I swear your conversation consists of 60% ‘when are you going home?’, 40% ‘your lunch is here’ and 20% terrible cat memes.”

“We’re roommates,” Minho drags the word through gritted teeth, holding back all the murderous thoughts inside his head because he feels like Hyunjin’s just asking for a death wish. It’s too early for this. 

Unexpectedly, Seungmin decides he’s in a pretty good mood today since he aced his OChem pop quiz yesterday; meaning, he’s gonna stick his nose into his friend’s business whenever there’s a chance. “Don’t you guys share a bed too?” he pretends to play dumb only to receive a kick in the shin from the older boy. 

“We’re also broke,” Minho cranes his neck tiredly, washing the dirty knife under the tap. “Besides, the heater in the living room sucks.”

“You both even smell the same, it’s getting kinda creepy. Please don’t tell me you guys also share showers to have a light water bill,” Jisung makes a gagging noise and Minho thinks he’s already said too much. His grip on the knife tightens for a split second before letting it drop into the sink. He doesn’t trust himself with anything sharp the moment Hyunjin started this unwanted conversation. He also regrets stealing Changbin’s meal prep recipes to feed his trash friends. 

Minho questions callously, “We just use the same shampoo and shower gel, what’s the big deal?” His hands go for the box of oatmeal that Felix left here last time in the cabinet full of random food. He doesn’t get why Seungmin would buy so much groceries like he’s in a pandemic knowing damn well that his idiotic roommates can’t cook for shit. 

Hyunjin purses his lips, trying to prove his point, “Don’t you think that it’s weird? You don’t do those things with us.”

“Because none of you would fucking house me when I was on the verge of being homeless!”

“And why is she yelling at you through texts anyway? Bro, there’s like ten missed calls here with at least a hundred ‘where are you?’. Why is she terrorizing you this early in the morning?” Minho immediately snaps out of his semi-angry trance, chest heaving up and down. 

“Oh shit,” he facepalms himself. “I promised to pick her up at ten from class, what time is it again?”

“You’re fifteen minutes late, my friend,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully. “It’ll take another ten to arrive at campus, without traffic that is. You’re so dead. D-E-A-D.” It feels weird to hear something correct coming out of Jisung’s mouth (twice in a row) and now Minho wishes he could just whack his friend unconscious on the floor with the new set of microphones that Chan gave him last year for Secret Santa. 

“Oh, I left your rice sitting at ‘warm’, by the way,” Minho makes a grab for his biker jacket and helmet on the counter before fleeing out of the apartment with his sneakers half-way tucked in. It’s not even been thirty minutes since they’ve seen each other for the past week and Jisung’s already choked on water, not once, but twice because of Lee Minho. Sometimes he wonders if the universe is telling him that he needs new friends. 

two. 

“Your boyfriend is late.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss at Yeji while staring at Minho’s contact on your phone anxiously. There’s no reason for you to be; worst-case scenario, you can just take the 0325 home and lock him outside for the night so that he’ll have no choice but to endure Chan’s embarrassing sleeping habits. He wouldn’t even notice either way because he’d be too busy swearing in his sleep to be annoyed. 

Yeji puts her hair up into a ponytail after stretching her limbs tiredly. She only has one class today and no choice but to stay on campus for her shift at the café before lunch break. Too bad Woojin can’t cover her today because of midterms. “I’m only speaking facts,” she tells you with a yawn and notices the slight pout on your face. “Hey, don’t be sad just because your stupid boyfriend can’t pick you up. I can call Chaeryeong if you need a ride here and there, she wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m not fucking sad!”

“Y/N, you look more depressed than Ryujin when she got a B+ in calc.” That’s irrelevant, Shin Ryujin already has a GPA booster after signing up for Kim’s stats class, one B+ won’t make it any less sparkly.

You only let out a prolonged sigh after checking your phone for the tenth time in the past half an hour. He isn’t picking up any of your calls, your messages probably can’t even reach him and now you’re sitting at M.I.A Cafe with a cup of plain water after standing outside at the front gate for so long like an idiot. An idiot, who’s hopelessly in love with her roommate- wait what? 

Listen, you already know that this is going to happen. It’s awfully inevitable and it’s getting harder and harder as the days pass by because summer is almost here. Meaning, Minho’s gonna move out soon, according to the contract. 

Are you sad about that? 

Yeah, kinda.

The more you think about it the more you regret your decision that day to let him stay with you. Because now you don’t think you’d be able to sleep without him next to you, hogging the blanket all to himself; you get angsty when he’s not home even if he’s just at dance practice; you’re definitely getting way too used to sharing an earphone with him while you both are dreading your assignments silently at the kitchen counter. And now you’re getting nervous just because he’s thirty minutes late. He’s never late, not even to your Monday Movie Night where you both can pig out and binge-watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender series until you’re sick of it. 

Maybe you’re relying on him too much. Hypothetically speaking, it’s not his fault for the damage of your car but you’re just making excuses to be with him. You even set him as your emergency contact. It’s kinda tedious to be your roommate, you realize. All of those things aren’t mandatory and he can simply mind his own business without having to feel obligated because of the ‘roommates’ label yet he’d still choose you, over everything else. Perhaps he’s dealing with his own first world problems and forgot to leave you a message this time. 

Yeji inquires breezily, wiping a cup dry with a towel, “Also, are you going to BamBam’s party this weekend?”

“For me to carry your ass home after getting shitfaced and sit through another two-hour lecture from Lia? I’ll pass thank you very much.”

She indicates with a quirk of her perfectly dark brow, “What if I tell you that Minho’s gonna be there?” Now she sounds like she’s the one who’s crushing on Lee Minho and not you. Never knew that your friends can be this creepy but the more you learn… “Jisung just told me he found a plus one aka Mister Celebrity to attend that frat party with, you wouldn’t have the heart to let me be the loner right?” she pouts with her nose scrunched and it reminds you too much of Light Fury so you look away, knowing that you wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance if she kept this up.

“How is that my problem?” you merely roll your eyes, slightly annoyed. “And also, isn’t Jisung supposed to have his marketing class now?”

Yeji doesn’t give a damn about what on Earth Han Jisung is doing with his life so she just brushes your question off. “Would you let Minho drink irresponsibly?”

You nod without hesitation, though it feels wrong coming out of your mouth, “He can do whatever he wants...as long as my carpet remains clean after his hangover.”

“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”

“The same goes for you,” you tell her monotonously. “And I only picked you up because Lia sounded like she was hyperventilating when you attended that one law brat’s birthday party. Na Jaemin, wasn’t it? Hate that guy, by the way.”

Yeji thinks it’s time for you to open up even more and not despise people that much. Having Lee Minho as your roommate is already a huge step-up but it’s not like there have been any modifications to your routine except the fact that another human being is simply enduring your bitchy ass of a loner. She wants you to be really out there, just not messing with shit like doing keg stands because Seo Changbin is a terrible influence. Woojin once had to drop his shift at the sushi place to drive Jeongin home because Changbin left him hanging on the beanbag chair for a game of beer pong. Jeongin has never gone to another single party since. 

“You hate literally everyone!” Yeji’s getting impatient, you can feel it.

“Are you telling me it’s my fault that people are shitty?” you bark, massaging the sides of your temple tiredly. You wish you could just drop the entirety of your current presentation to Yeji because your brain cells are already evaporating one by one into thin air.

She barks back, merely sneering, “C’mon! Y/N, it’s not like you ever have plans for the weekend.”

“But I’m having midterms on Monday, I didn’t spend my time on those notes for nothing.”

She shakes her head at you almost in disapproval. Sure, you’re a coward for backing out on this because BamBam’s no stranger to you. That Thai kid has been hanging out with Chan since middle school and he always offers to buy you coffee whenever you happen to drop by as they’re working on a project together. He’s a nice guy, but you don’t know him that well. Something in your gut is telling you that he has weird friends (he totally does). And you’re not about to overdrink only to blurt out an awful confession to Minho while being surrounded by a bunch of crackheads that aren’t in your social sphere.

“I heard kids are vapi-” Yeji stops herself, thinking she should just give up, and get ready for the next batch of sleep-deprived customers coming in at lunch break before Jeongin chucks an avocado at her direction for chit-chatting too much about your gigantic crush on Minho. “Nevermind, it’s not like you’d care anyway, have fun with reviewing I guess.” And with that, she leaves you alone with the cup of plain water to dump the used coffee grounds in the trash.

It takes you at least ten seconds to comprehend what she just said. And you’ve come up with a new yet very last-minute decision: screw midterm because you’re making sure that Lee Minho’s going home in one piece. 

Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.

[10:38 AM]

lino | hey you still on campus?

three.

The blush scattered across your cheekbones just grows ten shades darker when you see Minho at the front gate leaning against his black Kawasaki; disheveled hair, hands stuffed inside his pockets, occasional puffs of smoke escaping his lips, and unbothered gaze. You’ve never told him this, you’re not telling him this now, and you’re never gonna tell him; but he looks stupidly good in that biker jacket. Again, you don’t get how someone can look this good early in the morning. 

“What are you doing here?” you murmur grimly, approaching him from behind. It feels like he’s doing this to your heart on purpose, without even trying. And those girls over there are making you very uncomfortable by eyeing your roommate up and down like he’s an expensive piece of steak with a gold leaf sticking to it.

Minho turns sideways and flashes you a smile; your little heart just did a perfect cartwheel because of that, it can only take so much. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time, but I still promised to pick you up, didn’t I?” he says casually as your face morphs into a deep frown because you’re basically confused. The only problem is: you don’t even know why you’re confused. There’s this fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and now you feel as though someone just gives you a blow to the head when Minho looks straight into your eyes, brows slightly knitted together.

This is not healthy. 

“You didn’t answer my calls or my texts.”

Minho thinks you look cuter than usual when you’re silently fuming because you’re not the type to lash out on people. But it’s not so cute anymore when you threatened to flush his AirPods down the toilet that one time when he spilled ketchup on your carpet. He just hopes he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight like last time. 

“I put my phone on silent, as always,” he reminds you of how much of a pain in the ass it is to receive a call-back or a simple reply from him. 

You make a face, “Whatever, didn’t I tell you not to make a scene? Have you seen those chicks back there? They’re watching me as if I’m sabotaging their dreams of eating you alive.” Well, you can’t exactly blame your roommate for having girls gushing over him wherever he goes because...it’s his fault for looking like a snack all the time. 

Minho quickly detects how you’re not overly fond of his admirers and needless to say, he’s fairly amused. “Then let them,” he puts an arm over your shoulders and pulls you flushed against him, ruffling your hair. Moments later, you’re already hearing scandalous gasps along with hushed whispers going through your eardrums like a never-ending train. It’s really setting your nerves on fire. 

“Don’t you think that this is weird?”

“What?” Now it’s Minho who’s confused here. 

You slightly push him away and avert your gaze elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “We’re roommates, right?” you mumble, slightly unsure about...all of this. 

“Hmm, what about it?”

“Well, I don’t know…” you fiddle with the hem of your jacket and sigh. “What if people keep getting the wrong idea about us?” You sound somewhat regretful as if your decision of taking him in as your roommate was a mistake, as if you feel like it’s better off if he wasn’t in your life at all, as if the past month was completely meaningless. Since when did things become this complicated? It started with a harmless one-month contract and now Minho’s not sure of what he should do next. But that’s not it, is it? Maybe he’s just overthinking too much. 

He looks hesitant for a moment there, very not-Lee-Minho of him. “We’re still cool right?” Minho tilts his head to the side, the afternoon sunlight slips through fluffs of white clouds and brings the constellations in his warm brown eyes to life. Though he looks like a scolded child, you can’t help but want to put this moment into a frame and simply cherish it for the rest of your life. 

“Beats me,” you breathe out, silently hating yourself for not being able to get angry at him. It’s harder than you thought, really, and it doesn’t help when his eyes keep doing that thing to your poor little heart. “Make me pasta and we’re good,” you end up chuckling when Minho’s expression turns a solid three hundred and sixty at the offer.

“That’s not a very smart move for a business major, your loss,” he replies with a goofy smile, tossing the helmet that he got you yesterday in your direction. And if you pay attention enough, you can almost see Minho exhaling out of relief. But you’re too busy staring at the ground to douse yourself in your own giddiness to notice. “Oh crap, I think I left my wallet at Hyunjin’s,” he tells you after swinging a leg over on his shiny vehicle. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t need your wallet to make me pasta now do you?”

“By the way, are you going to BamBam’s party?”

“Only if you’re going,” you scratch the bridge of your nose with your ring finger, a little embarrassed to admit that he’s the only reason why you’re ditching midterms. 

Minho’s hearty laugh fills your eardrums, shit-eating grin and all. “If it makes you feel better, Chan’s driving us,” he voices without looking at you, but your chest still swells either way. 

You fucking hate how you have the softest spot for him. 

four.

You’re already regretting this although you’ve only been sitting in Chan’s back seats for less than twenty minutes. Crankiness takes over your body as a result of reviewing for the whole afternoon, your eyelids are getting droopy, and your head seems to be all too big for your neck at this rate. More reasons for you to not drink tonight. 

“Ugh, why am I even here?” you groan, and Jisung scrunches his nose, slightly alarmed because you’re not usually this loud unless you’re high on caffeine. 

Minho tells you in the most lighthearted way possible, “Because you love me.” 

You wish you could just put his head through a wall because everything and anything coming out of his mouth are never healthy for your mind, or heart. “Uhm, no I don’t.”

“But you did confess your love to me,” he singsongs as if he just hit a jackpot with his lottery ticket, angling his head to toss you a wink. “I have receipts, ma’am. They’re right here, in my heart.” Minho’s never seen you so giddy before so he recorded everything, but he’s not planning on putting himself on a chopping block by telling you that. 

You shove his arm and purse your lips, flaming cheeks but the car’s too dark for him to see it. “I was sick, asshole, I talk shit more when I have a fever than when I’m drunk,” you defend yourself helplessly, not enjoying the fact that he had to bring it up when you’re in a confined space with Seo Changbin and Han Jisung. 

“Minho doesn’t like it when Y/N raises her voice.” Great, now he’s talking in third person. 

“What are you even? Four?”

He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”

“Oh my god shut the fuck up and get away from me!”

“You’ll never get rid of me, baby.” Eventually, you give up because you’re too mentally exhausted and there’s still a long night ahead of you. You’re not wasting your energy in pointless arguments with him because you both yell at each other on a daily basis anyway. 

“Maybe he’ll zip it if you tell him that you love him,” Jisung suggests innocently with a not-so-innocent look on his face. He’s already acting dumb when he’s this fucking sober so you’re not looking forward to two hours later when vodka’s practically replaced his own blood. 

“I’d rather chew off my own foot.” Changbin snorts involuntarily at your stiff remark, Chan mutters a small ‘ouch’ while Jisung’s too busy laughing his ass off. And a demeaning silence descends after that. 

Minho’s right next to you, oddly unresponsive to the situation, his head leaning against your shoulder as he gazes dejectedly out the window. You don’t see how stormy his eyes are. He also misses his motorcycle tremendously because Chan’s the safest (slowest) driver to ever exist. No joke, if he keeps going at the pace of thirty miles per hour then you should just skip the party and watch a movie while getting drunk at his place altogether. 

“Can you go any fucking slower?”

“Excuse me?” Chan laughs in disbelief, he’s a little offended because he personally thinks he’s a good driver, maybe a little bit too obedient when it comes to the law. Hey, at least you know you’re in good hands. “I’m not trying to get us all killed before BamBam could poison one of you guys.” 

Jisung purses his lips as he’s reminded of the last party where he ran into that Thai dude. He gave him a plastic cup, telling him that it’s merely a harmless fruity vodka only for Jisung to get kicked out by an Uber driver after throwing up in the back seats. Turns out, the lemons and oranges in the cocktail were relatively spoilt. 

“I’m gonna die from boredom before we could even get into a car accident,” Minho informs him unconstructively, staring at some random notifications from Instagram of people commenting on his cats’ photos, text messages from his mom and swipes them all away. Mostly to chuckle to himself like a moron because of his lock screen. Yes, your stupid face is still on there after three weeks and you don’t know if you should be crying or laughing.

Chan narrows his eyes at the rear-view mirror, “It seems like you’re entertaining yourself just fine by looking at Y/N’s face.” 

“This photo does make me laugh because it’s priceless,” the younger boy states without turning his head to look at you. “But still, bored.” 

The car grows silent again soon after because Chan’s already been stressed out enough from traffic since clearly, people can’t drive to save their own lives. But it’s not like your friends can keep their mouths shut for the rest of the trip anyway. 

“Boreddd,” Minho voices randomly while a J.One’s song is blasting through the speaker. It’s a terribly soft song and it doesn’t help when Minho feels like he can downright sleep through an earthquake, potentially falling into an enormous crack on the Earth’s surface and still being able to nap like there’s no tomorrow. He’s just glad that Jisung grew out of ‘Wow’ and embraces his awkward self through his own music. It’s..sentimental but what’s a J.One song without that element?

Changbin looks up from his phone for half a second, wholly uninterested. “Then shut up and sleep,” he says expressionlessly. Very timely, his most recent track comes up next on the playlist and he starts rapping along with it. Minho thinks he can really use a good eye shut as SpearB is performing live right behind him because Changbin can only stay sober like this for so long until he gets his hands on one of BamBam’s sketchy-looking concoctions. 

You’re starting to get bored too at this rate because usually, during times like this when the car is filled with nothing but music and everyone (except for the driver) feels like they’re falling into a food coma, a certain idiot will—

“Y/N, don’t you have a midterm on Monday?” Ah, there it is. 

Jisung bends himself forward and drapes an arm over the leather seat, scrunching his nose at the sight of Minho sleeping soundly against your shoulder. He’s still bitter about the fact that Minho refuses to drive anyone other than you with his motorcycle for some reason. Exclusive things are always so annoying. 

You exhale deeply because Jisung reminds you of that one kid who always asks questions that stress the hell out of the teachers back in high school. Would it kill for him to just shut up once in a while? 

“I do, and I haven’t got a wink of sleep since yesterday afternoon,” you tell him rather lazily, shifting when Minho snuggles himself closer to you, his hair tickling your jawline. You pray he doesn’t know how fast your heart is beating. “A little alcohol might spare me a night of crying myself to sleep.” 

Jisung lets his bottom lip stuck out like he’s a fucking five-year-old not allowed to get his favorite ice-cream flavor. “Aww, you should have asked Minho for cuddles then, pretty sure he’d be more than happy to—,” he remarks sarcastically and you wish you could just throw him in the middle of an intersection. He’s lucky because Minho’s a heavy sleeper or he would have been knocked senseless or something. The last thing Chan needs is being forced to pull over for having wild animals wrestle the shit out of each other in his vehicle. 

“Hey, fuck off,” you snarl at him, knowing you should have chosen the passenger seat instead. That way, you wouldn’t be fuming inside because you can’t physically strangle Han Jisung to his imminent death. He has already tattooed that image into the back of your brain and you swear you’ve never heard a creepier chuckle from your friend. 

Jisung notices the coral tint on your cheeks and sneers, leaning back against his seat. “Yeah right, as if you’re actually gonna get drunk,” he says snarkily. “You’re just gonna be there to prevent Lee Minho from making bad decisions.” 

“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“

“Yeji who? In what world will you have time for her when you’re too busy staring at Minho like a total creep? Wanna bet ten bucks?” 

That’s bullshit because Lee Minho is already your entire world. 

Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”

Changbin raises his hand, “I’d bet my Tesla.” Your friends really spelled out ‘a bunch of fucking clowns’ in bold, gigantic capital letters and you’re this close to facepalm yourself against Chan’s steering wheel. This is why you don’t go to parties with them that often because you’re stuck with cleanup duties with Seungmin until these crackheads grow out of their amateur drinking habits. 

“You’re just jealous because he would rather call you an Uber than give you a lift himself,” you say pointedly and Jisung lets out the loudest, most scandalous gasp. So dramatic. 

“You,” he jabs a finger at you, eyes wide in accusation. “Need a nap.”

You laugh dryly, ignoring the urge to snap a picture of his flabbergasted expression and turn it into a new meme for your group chat. “You don’t say, Han, you don’t say.”

And Changbin rolls his eyes over the moon, vividly picturing where this disastrous conversation is gonna go. Basically, he wants you to get shitfaced as soon as you step foot into BamBam’s house so he’ll have a sappy, drunk confession video to toss on Twitter tonight because Woojin just posted a picture of him with a drumstick dipped inside a glass of what looks like a watered-down Margarita. He’s highly concerned since there hasn’t been anything juicy on his feed other than his friends creeping people out with their questionable content. 

“If you two don’t end up getting drunk and kiss, I’m gonna be pissed,” Changbin says casually as if it’s just an afterthought. This prompts you to chuck your phone in his direction—you can care less about your screen protector at this point if it means stopping him from taunting you further. 

He asserts like a snake, “Hey, remember that time where you tripped over Kkami and totally crushed Minho under your weight?”

“I blame gravity for that.”

“But Albert Einstein said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love.”

“Who cares about Albert Einstein?!” you whisper-shout harshly, cautiously eyeing Minho’s sleeping figure. He scrunches his nose and murmurs something that you can’t quite hear before turning over to face you completely. His arms unexpectedly slip underneath yours like second nature. He furrows his eyebrows occasionally, other times he’d be grinning like an idiot and his lips are slightly agape, full eyelashes framing his eyes beautifully. Sometimes you wonder how weird his dreams are whenever you caught him talking (and cursing) in his slumber. 

Changbin wants to pry aloud when you start staring at Minho for too long; he might as well be tossed on the freeway at this point before exasperation squeezes the little amount of oxygen left out of his chest. This is worse than Hyunjin’s terrible rom coms. He props his head onto his hand in boredom as Chan pulls over and turns off the engine. “Hey we’re here, why not wake your prince up with a kiss—”

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” you threaten. 

Now there are two distasteful tattoos at the back of your head. And you will not hesitate for a heartbeat sacrificing the entirety of your bank account to get them removed. To get Lee Minho removed from your mind.

If only it were that easy.  

“Mhmm,” the figure beside you lets out a low grunt and hugs your arm closer instinctively. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your denim jacket and sets your heart on fire. You’re ready to flick his forehead any second now to interrupt his slumber but before you could even do anything, Seo Changbin aggressively opens the door and you widen your eyes in horror. Where the fuck did he get a megaphone? And what for?

“Bitch wake up! Those drinks aren’t gonna finish themselves!”

It’d be a miracle if you ended up finding him alive by dawn. 

five.

“Y/N you ass, give it back!

“No, we’ve only been here for three hours and this is your fifth cup already,” you tell her in a mildly serious tone before dumping her cup of whatever the fuck of a yellow substance that Ryujin gave her ten minutes ago into the sink. 

Yeji plops herself onto the sofa in the living room after you drag her out of the kitchen where people are making out on the marble counter. Glad to see nothing’s changed...idiots. “God, you’re such a party pooper, I shouldn’t have told you to come,” she complains in between small hiccups, alcohol tinting her cheeks beet red. 

“I’m here to save your ass and this is how you’re repaying me?” Your question didn’t come out as coherent and threatening as you imagined and every single cell inside your body is shaking for no specific reason. 

Your friend narrows her eyes down into a mere glare like a detective in those crimes shows that you spend way too much time on and you’re debating whether you should be laughing or pissing yourself. She fucking knows that you’re lying. She fucking knows the sole reason for you to be here. “Give me a break, it’s not like you’re doing anything besides staring at your boyfriend from afar,” Yeji scoffs dejectedly. 

“God forbids ‘Lee Minho’ and ‘my boyfriend’ go in the same sentence,” you grit, subconsciously averting your gaze around the living room to spot your roommate. All he’s been doing is being held back by Chan when he tried to murder Changbin once, catching up with his old friends from high school and hanging out with some of his classmates, ranting about how much he dreads Kim’s eight AM, gushing with Hyunjin over some senior’s choreography set. By the looks of it, Jisung must have handed him at least seven of those red party cups from the bar—thanks to BamBam who keeps restocking them every hour. 

Yeji chuckles creepily when the alcohol finally hits her hard, you think you just got chills by the way that she’s leaning closer. “Of course not,” she hiccups into your ear, words slurred, “Lee Minho’s not my boyfriend, he’s your boyfriend.” You look at her in the eye, and mentally regret your life choices. How insufferable. 

“I mean, seriously,” she slams her body back onto the couch and groans; you can’t tell if it’s out of frustration or the cushion is too soft for her back. “It’s like you’re living the life of the main protagonist in a Harry Styles fanfiction! Do you know how many girls and boys would kill to live in the same apartment as that?” Her index finger is pointed directly at the person you’ve been watching and avoiding all night, across the room with a dart in his hand as he stands in front of the dartboard. 

“Were you aiming for the board or were you plotting to kill me? Because I can’t tell! I-can’t-fucking-tell!” Changbin shouts over the music and you momentarily cringe at the crack in his voice; it’s never a college party without one of your friends riling each other up over the dumbest things. And also, who thinks it’s a good idea to lend an unstable Lee Minho a sharp object of any kind?

You look away as heat flares through your nostrils when Minho accidentally glances at you after laughing at some corny joke that Chan made. He’s more than mildly hammered right now, you suppose, because, well, Chan can only make people laugh when they’re exceptionally drunk. 

A stupid question then slips out of your lips. “With what?” It sounds like you only have one brain cell and are perpetually dumb. It makes you feel even dumber when there’s nothing but a can of Coke inside your body. 

“A hottie who dances, cooks, has a good sense of humor, lowkey a genius, highkey a tsundere, shares a name with a famous actor. Far more handsome than the actor himself, if I dare.” Yeji has no hesitation whatsoever naming every reason as to why people on campus shamelessly throw themselves at your roommate on a daily basis. And now your head grows ten times fuzzier, floating mundanely in the clouds above. Basically, you feel like you’re drunk—except your confidence isn’t sky high enough to do something stupid—which makes no absolute sense. 

The silver-haired girl next to you puts an arm around your neck and giggles, you’re highly perturbed that her vocal cords are gonna give in tomorrow when she convinces you through FaceTime that you should be extra careful with your notes since she won’t be showing up to class. “Oh! And he has three cats, right? Cat people are said to be more intuitive and thoughtful, that’s a bonus,” Yeji asserts and your jaw is on the floor at this rate. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance during lunch break and she already knows this much?

No wonder Minho never talked about his cats with Felix and Seungmin again.

“I bet you read that off a Buzzfeed article.” 

“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong!”

You inhale and exhale deeply, linking your fingers together, “Yeah, but that’s all people will ever see.”

“Well, what else can they like about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say bluntly, but the rouge on your cheeks is anything but ‘blunt’. “They don’t see how stuck-up he is, how he loves hogging the blanket all to himself, how he secretly stocks up a stash of trashy snacks. They don’t see the way his eyes sparkle when he looks into their eyes during a conversation because he’s actually a very attentive listener.”

Yeji pats your back without turning her head, slightly amused, “I think you meant how he looks into your eyes during a conversation.”

Your eyes scan the room one more time to find Minho hugging his stomach from laughing too much, there are actual tears in his eyes because Changbin just lost a bet and apparently he has to belly flop himself into the pool as a punishment. You haven’t seen him this happy in a while, even when he’s potentially dying from a really bad stomachache but it still puts your heart at ease knowing he’s having fun tonight. 

Needless to say, he always knocks the breath right out of your lungs without much effort. Even when he’s ditched the leather jacket and ripped jeans, you still think no one looks better than him in a large t-shirt and sweatpants. 

“But I don’t get it,” Yeji looks over at you this time, real carefully because your tone just grows firmer and more serious. “How can he just stand there, laugh...and look so beautiful?”

“I told you—”

“Yeah that’s exactly what I need to hear right now, Yeji,” you facepalm almost immediately, highly disappointed in yourself. 

Jisung’s getting his ten dollars on Monday when you surprise him with two slices of cheesecake from his favorite dessert place. Changbin can keep his Tesla and Chan...Chan isn’t getting anything.

You push yourself off the blue velvet couch and groan, you’re getting sore quickly because the cushions are far too soft. “Let me get some fresh air, I feel like I’m gonna to lose my mind,” you tell your friend but you doubt that she caught it since the music is all too loud for students to communicate properly. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why fistfights during parties are a thing. 

“Uhm, wait,” Yeji tugs onto your sleeve and jerks her head towards the direction of Minho. “I’m sorry but what the hell does your boyfriend want now?”

“Huh where—“

Like..three feet away. Or a whole lot closer. 

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” And you find Minho standing in front of you with his arms crossed stubbornly, eyebrows knitted together and tinted pink cheeks. He looks a little pissed off, and you don’t think you’re both on the same page here. 

When you give him a ‘what do you mean’ look, your roommate feels the need to unlock his phone and jab his index finger against his poor crusty screen as he shows you at least fifty messages that he’s been spamming in the last half an hour. This reminds you of the yellow Post-It note that Minho violently smacked onto your fridge the very night when he first moved in. 

‘I hereby fucking declare that if we did end up going to the same party (doubt btw), we would keep our phones with us 25/8 so one can save the other’s ass from stupid decisions— lee minho’ he wrote. Minho knows all too well the only ass that needs to be saved is his. And you’ve thought about taking the note down several times but you don’t think you’d have the heart to. 

“Oh,” your head draws a blank canvas and you look for your phone in your pocket. But then, “I left my phone in Chan’s car.”

Minho rolls his eyes at you and decides that he’s too impatient to wait for Chan to sober up and remember where he left his keys. “Whatever,” he manages to crack a small smile, one that shines through the dimmed LED light on the ceiling and makes your heart stuck in your throat. “Let’s get out of here, I have something to tell you.” 

“Hey hey hey,” Yeji tries to get up from the couch but her limbs are too wobbly. “You can’t just tap out all of a sudden and steal her from me like that. Don’t even think for a minute you second rate—”

“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”

You’re downright baffled. But you’re not sure if it’s because of what he said ten seconds ago and your heart is going haywire, your brain cells are giving in on you or it’s because he’s tugging you by the wrist and piloting you through the impending chaos of sloppy college students. 

You’re not sure if you want to know. You’re not sure if you’re ready. 

six.

Fall arrives sooner than you thought and it almost makes you miss summer. Though you didn’t really have anything exciting besides an internship that refrained you from living on YouTube for too long. 

The evening is oddly cold, but you’ve never had a problem with the tips of your fingers growing chilly. It’s different tonight—it’s the kind of coldness that slips through your flesh and into your bones, coming in contact with the thumping force of your heart, causing it to shiver. There’s nothing to do but keep your gaze straight forward, your feet moving on their own with the one and only goal of heading home. Clouds with the murky color of wet ashes pass by, and the ground as its dank reflection—a reminder of how humanity is ruining the planet. 

The streets are so quiet and tranquil; you’re afraid that Minho might be able to hear your heartbeat. Now you’re pointing a finger at society in accusation because it’s the weekend yet no elder couples are taking their night strolls, no middle-aged ladies in fluffy jackets are walking their spoiled teacups dogs and no wasted college students are roaming the streets with ‘trouble’ spelled out on their forehead. Really, you’d rather stare at people in a creepy way and zone out than constantly thinking about Lee Minho when he’s right beside you. 

This is terribly suffocating and you don’t think if you can keep this up in the next thirty minutes until both of you get home and melt into the comfort of your bed. 

“Sober up, Mister Celebrity, that’s too much fun for tonight.” Minho winces slightly when you press a can of cold green tea against his cheeks as he’s about to doze off on the wooden bench next to the vending machine. While he’s taking a swig, you feel a silent obligation to take a seat but your eyes are determinedly fixed on the curb. 

The bench suddenly feels far too big and the night breeze is far too cold for Minho’s liking, so he shifts his body closer, fingers brushing over yours and sending electricity down your spine. “What do you mean?” he scoffs, finding it hard to not look at you so his gaze is temporarily glued onto the can of green tea in his palms. “Tonight was nothing compared to Jisung’s birthday.” He can still feel the remaining warmth from your hands, it makes him wonder how it’d feel to actually hold them. 

“Ugh, god,” you shake your head in disbelief, internally cringing. “Don’t even remind me.”

You still don’t know what Hyunjin fed him that day to the point he couldn’t remember what happened. All hell broke loose Felix posted a video of him pretending to be a stupid ostrich and trying to do a mating dance towards Jisung on Twitter. No one dares to talk about that scarred video since. Now that he’s reminded you of it, you wish you didn’t own brain cells in the first place. This is why the internet is scary. 

“What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?” 

Minho stops for a second at your question and places his beverage down on the bench. He stares distantly at the space ahead as if he’s fighting with himself inside his own head, seriously contemplating something. It’s come to your attention that this isn’t very like his usual self. Minho never hesitates for a second when he has something in mind. Even when he knows that you might rip his head off.

He exhales deeply, turns his head, and makes direct eye contact with you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are as wide open and honest as a child’s, they possess something so much more the longer you stare at them. A warmth, safety. Your heart is gonna combust if he doesn’t get this over with soon. 

Then, “I think I forgot to put yeast in the batter.” Wait what?

“Minho!” you punch his arm, earning a low grunt from the blond-haired boy. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” He’s looking at you as though your eyes are turning red with rage and smoke is coming out of your ears, scared for his own life but truthfully, you’re just relieved. Surprisingly. 

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” he asks you with a wide-eyed expression, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. “Aren’t we supposed to bring homemade bread for the get together at the nursing home tomorrow?”

“Old people still enjoy Bingo for some reason, they can have that instead of bread.” His mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he scoots closer to you and you can tell that he reeks off alcohol, which is making you a little dizzy. When your gaze falls elsewhere but Lee Minho, you attempt to appear casual, “But if you wanna bake so badly, I can still pull an all-nighter and start over with you.” That was doable, but you could have done better—should have sounded like you didn’t really care. 

Minho flings his bangs away from his face and tosses his head back, chuckling breathlessly. “Don’t you have a midterm to stress over instead of me? I don’t want you to pick out every single strand of hair on your head after baking with me.” He finally said something nice once in a while, you sorta appreciate it. “It’d be embarrassing when my parents FaceTime me and see you as bald as my great grandfather.” Nevermind, he’s still the same old jerk. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’ll be moving out in two weeks, either way, right?” Your tone sounds sad and grim all of a sudden; it really dampens the atmosphere because Minho is now looking at you with concern laced in his brown eyes. “Look, I get that it’s bothersome to be my roommate so there’s no need to feel bad. I’ll be fine going back to my old life where my feet don’t get cold in the middle of the night because no one would be there to hog the blanket anymore.”

Minho feels the need to clear things up here. “I never said anything about moving out,” he grabs you by the shoulders and hopes you could just look at him when he’s being serious for once. “Y/N, who even said anything about moving out? Was it the landlord?”

“No,“ you say, still not willing to face him directly. You’re such a coward. 

“If so, why would I move out? Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off or something?”

You’re trying so hard not to snap at this point. “No!”

“Then why can’t you just fucking look at me?!”

“You’re still drunk, let me buy you another—“

Minho shakes you forcefully, hoping to knock some common sense into that brain of yours. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not drunk!” he cries helplessly, not caring about the fact that he’s waking up every cat possible in the neighborhood. “Just- just look at me, will you?”

You stubbornly keep your eyes anywhere but him. “Why would I look at your stupid face?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You’re not usually like this.”

Every single cell inside your body quivers simultaneously when he says so—good god, no, he’s testing you. Minho knows something’s off. Now to think about it again, you’d rather let him dirty your carpet than being put on trial like this.

“You wanna know why I’m acting like this? It’s because of you! You’re making me nervous! It’s your fault for making me feel this way!”

“What?” he blurts, eyes blinking numerous times in disbelief. “What did I ever do to you?”

“God, Minho, you can’t possibly be this dense. Tell me, that you’ve never, not even once, seen me turning beet red when you simply look at me in the eye. Or when you’re just sitting there, laughing your ass off about something stupid. It makes my heart flutter, okay? You make my heart flutter. Do you know how much of an effect you can have on me? You don’t go around juggling with others’ feelings like that,” your voice grows smaller and smaller towards the end until there’s nothing but an oddly comfortable silene floating midair. A sense of relief washes over you; you unknowingly exhale.

Minho stares at you in awe for a moment there, until he also speaks up for himself. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he almost snickers, and this causes you to peel your gaze away from a random bush to gawk at his response. “You’re telling me to not go around juggling with others’ feelings? If anything, you’re the one who keeps messing with my heart. What am I supposed to do? Not get drunk so that I won’t be able to get away for doing dumb things?”

“What dumb things?”

“I don’t know, kiss you?”

“Fuck, you can’t get away with it this time now, can you?”

You’re already regretting this and there’s no turning back. Because when Minho subconsciously runs his tongue over his bottom lips, you’re already fighting the rouge spreading on your cheekbones. He shortens the distance between your heads until your lips are practically a breath away from his. Impatient, you grab a fistful of his shirt to smash your lips against his. Minho stays frozen for a nanosecond, taken aback by your boldness before pulling you closer by the waist. You’re hesitant at first, but he guides you through it, telling you that it’s okay by embracing you more tightly. Dear god, Minho’s kissing you and the world just falls away. It’s slow, comforting in ways that words can never be. He slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, smiling into it when giddiness bubbles up inside his stomach. 

The world still feels like it’s spinning when he parts away, an alcoholic taste mixed with the green tea ghosts your lips, and your face grows ten times hotter. Even in this cracked darkness, Minho sees you blush hard and is fully aware that his cheeks are mirroring yours—he doesn’t even bother to convince himself that it’s from the alcohol, because it isn’t. 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Minho questions though his breath is still a bit shaky from the kiss. He really didn’t lie when he said that he could never stop bothering you. 

You can’t help but smile at him brightly; this causes his heartbeat to spike inside his chest. “Well, do I have to?” He shakes his head and stares down at your hands until he musters up every strand of courage left to finally intertwine them with his own. Fits like a glove. 

“Come on, let’s go home,” he tells you softly, eyes crinkling into a pretty crescent moon shape. But you stop him right there when he attempts to stand up and wordlessly lean your forehead against his. Minho understands that you simply need a moment so you both hover right there, simply melting into each other’s touch. But what you say next just makes the ignited passion inside his heart flare-up. He’s at a loss for words, utterly speechless. 

“I am home.”

“Welcome home then, Y/N,” Minho whispers.

Everything feels like a dream that you’d never want to wake up from. His hands are clasped on either side of your face, resting just below the lobes of your ears. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks so that you won’t drift away, your breaths mingling. Never before has your own name made your heart flutter. But you guess it’s only because Minho said it. You do know that it’s not an afterthought, nor out of impulse. It’s a promise, for whatever’s coming your way on this path, he’s never gonna leave you behind. And the moment he feels that thing beating inside his chest is in sync with yours, he slowly leans in again.

Albert Einstein once said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love. And you have every right to argue with him in the afterlife because you’ve confirmed that Minho is your gravity. Gravity keeps you grounded, always get a hold of you so that you won’t ever have to wander off too far away. It’s there for you but it doesn’t have to act like it cares. Minho’s kinda like that too—he picked you up every time you said you’re good walking home, he only stocked up the stash of candies to secretly feed your midnight cravings. They only differ so much where his heartbeat for you is loud, undaunted and he loves you fearlessly; nothing shall meddle with his feelings for you as long as the way your eyes light up when they meet his doesn’t change. 

Before you met Minho, you didn’t know that it was possible to just look at someone and smile for no reason. The way his lips curl up when he smiles, his sarcastic remarks, his kindhearted nature though he’s awfully good at hiding it. That’s what people do when they’re in love, they say—to fawn over the littlest things but they’re what makes you fall so hard for him. But as time passes by, you’ve learned that it’s actually quite nice to be in love with someone. Because then, you get to spend your time and effort on their happiness as well, not just your own. In exchange, that person is capable of bringing colors to your dull world, tearing down your walls, and showing you just how beautiful life can be. Surely, Minho might not stay by your side forever in this crazy game of Monopoly but you’d risk it all for him even if the sky comes crashing and the universe turns upside down. 

After all, you can’t love alone. 

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕀𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕠𝕡❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ Episodes 5-6

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!

⇢ script form (name: lines) are the interviews

Episode 5

she was in the back oh hoseok and taehyung’s car with a book open on her lap

“makdung-ah, have a sandwich”

hoseok handed her a sandwich which she blindly reached for and nearly knocked over, making hoseok shout and taehyung shocked

“got it! i got it! sorry, i’m a mess”

she was laughing and settled back in her chair, sandwich in hand and focus on her books

she saw seokjin in his sunglasses and choked a little “hobi oppa, where’s the water?”

they were talking about taehyung’s mixtape at some point

“oppa’s music is really nice, though. the stuff you let me hear is really good, i love listening to them” “thanks, aegi”

“look at you guys and your mixtapes. am i the only one who’s going to promote solo as an idol?”

hoseok and taehyung just laughed at her “we’re your biggest fans”

“we’re heeeeeere! my trampoline!”

hoseok opened her door for her and helped her out. she took her small carriers, still two because one held all her equipment while the other held her clothes and some skincare and makeup

“is it necessary to bring work here?” jungkook asked her

“i mean, you never know when ideas will pop up, right?”

a few minutes later, you can see her running up to the cars again “my guitar’s still in the car!”

miya: honestly, i was just excited to be able to relax again. i don’t think i ever slept that much anywhere else. the oppas say it’s good for me *laughs*

the first thing she did when she got in her room was to pull her blanket from the carrier with her equipment and take her plushies out of her backpack

she put them down inside the mosquito net “alright toph, koda, time for you guys to rest from the long drive”

she ran over to the upper house “yoongi oppa! can i help with the food!” “that would be much appreciated, princess”

she’s chopping up vegetables quickly, drawing hoseok’s attention

“sometimes, i forget you’re a good cook because of how clumsy you are. hyung, you know she nearly dropped her sandwich in the car earlier?” “oppaaaa, don’t tell them thaaaat”

she was grilling some marinated pork chops in the kitchen while the older members were outside. hoseok stopped by, and she cut him a little piece for tasting

“perfect as always, makdungie”

jungkook punching the broth behind her distracted her the slightest bit by making her laugh “oppa, you’re hyperactive today”

she brought the huge dish of marinated pork out to the table and yoongi had her taste the dakgalbi

“ooooh it’s smokey, i love it!”

she made sure to get the bowl with what looked like the least amount of noodles which yoongi noticed and made up for it by giving her a lot meat

meanwhile seokjin looked at her “i still can’t believe you won’t tell us how you make the marinade for your pork” “that’s a secret between me and yoonsungie oppa”

she ran off after eating saying she had to brush her teeth

right after she did, she ended up sitting by the deck with her guitar playing random melodies and writing them down

seokjin surprised her by arriving and going straight into the canoe

“oppa?” “i hit a ball into the lake by accident” “well, looks like a home run”

she laughed when his canoe hit the deck before setting her guitar down and helping him out of it

“oh god, i’m sleepy”

she headed up to the main house with seokjin where jungkook was half asleep

she settled next to him and somehow they made themselves fit into the small bench. they just passed out despite the other members being quite loud

hoseok and seokjin were trying to wake the two maknaes up. seokjin picked her up from jungkook’s grasp and she just ended up wrapping her limbs around him and burying her face in his neck and going back to sleep

“oppa,” she mumbled while seokjin was hitting jungkook with the foam roller, “this game is so violent. and loud. and making you move a lot”

“aigoo, you two won’t be sleeping in the boat house later at this rate”

next you see of her, she’s in the kitchen whisking eggs and talking to herself

“this whole process can’t be aired to protect my fried chicken recipe,” she looked at the nearest camera “please keep it a secret, editor-nims”

while jungkook is filleting the fish, they overlay the sound of her frying the chicken

“simple fried chicken when done well is worth a lot”

seokjin walked in, yoongi close after

“oppas, i’m making chicken! what else are we having for dinner?”

seokjin patted her head “you did well, princess. what about doenjang jjigae?” “oh, sounds good!”

yoongi helped her bring the plates of fried chicken out to the table which she began to set for them

jungkook hopped out to have her taste some of the sushi making her grin

then he threw her over his shoulder

“stop hovering over the chicken and come inside to help taste stuff!” “but the bugs!”

she ended up inside tasting yoongi’s jjigae

she stayed off to the side mixing a bunch of sauces together for the chicken if the others wanted to flavor it

jungkook came and playfully put some of the honey soy sauce on the sushi and tried it

“wah, hold on, that’s actually good” “oppa, save the sauce for the chicken!” “there’s also garlic parmesan and teriyaki!”

miya: it felt nice to have a lot of us in the kitchen. there were so many things going on both creative wise and, well, cooking wise. i usually cook alone at the dorms or with one other person, but being with a lot of people gives it a more chaotic but homey feel. it’s… it’s a very warm feeling”

there were compliments passed around for the chicken, sushi, and soup and she just had the biggest grin on her face while eating

seokjin placed a small plate in front of her “these pieces don’t have wasabi, so you can eat it”

“let’s have yoonmi’s marinated fried chicken tomorrow!” “oh, good. i already marinated them in the fridge for tomorrow, anyway”

yoongi pulled the soju bottle away from her “that means no drinking tonight, princess. we want you awake in time to cook lunch”

she headed for the boat house after dinner

Episode 6

jimin popped into her room while she was settling herself in bed. he crawled into her mosquito net with her and began tucking her in

“i haven’t done this in a while”

miya: jiminnie oppa had a habit of tucking me in before sleeping back when i was younger. we got older, though, and i started staying in the studio later, so he never got to do it much anymore. it was pretty nostalgic, and i felt like i was fourteen or fifteen again

“i though jinnie oppa wanted to play baseball with you” “i told him i’d come back after checking in on you”

he settled her plushies on either side of her head which made her giggle

“you’re growing up way too fast, aegi. i can’t believe you’re an adult now” “i guess so”

he kissed her forehead “you’re still our makdungie, though. sleep well, alright?”

she smiled at him “good night, oppa”

jimin: i think i didn’t enjoy yoonmi’s childhood enough. one minute, she’s a little kid who barely reached my chest. the next, she’s twenty years old, a successful actress and soloist alongside being in bangtan, and she has a boyfriend, too. i know she’s still my baby, but i feel like time flew by way too fast

the next day, she walked into the upper house kitchen to find seokjin and yoongi cooking. she was still rubbing her eyes, and her hair was a mess

“aigoo, our princess is still sleepy”

she walked right into seokjin’s arms and closed her eyes while he slightly rubbed her back

“should i cook the marinated fried chicken?”

yoongi patted her head “we have a lot of dakgalbi, it’s okay”

she settled on the table facing yoongi while he grilled, chin in her hands as she tried to stay awake on the table

yoongi woke her up and placed a fork in her hand knowing she’s too sleepy to properly use chopsticks

she ate in silence, eyes half-closed

jimin chuckled at her “sleep well last night, aegi” “mhmm yes, oppa”

when they finished lunch, she headed straight for the common area in the main house with her book

she sat reading in between jungkook and namjoon while they painted

“oppas, how’s the weather gonna be today?” “really nice, apparently”

she closed her book for a while before getting up. she silently made her way over to the boat house where she started doing her hair and makeup.

“i’ve got to do a self-photoshoot before i let the nice weather go to waste”

a few minutes later, she’s out on the deck with her phone on a tripod on video mode. she sets it up and presses record before posing by the fence

“god, i hope this comes out pretty”

she moves around a little before checking her phone

“ooooh these are kinda good. okay let me put on a dress and take pictures by the flowers”

jungkook glances at the view again a few minutes later and lets out a laugh when he sees yoonmi in a dress all done up and posing in front of her phone

“i didn’t think she’d actually do the self-photoshoot”

nearly twenty minutes later, she’s back in her loungewear in between namjoon and jungkook taking screenshots of herself from her mini self-photoshoot

she looked up and just watched jungkook paint

“it’s amazing how you can just do that” “i’ll teach you if you want to try” “maybe tomorrow”

she headed inside the common room and continued reading in there

when the sun started to set, she headed over to her room to put her book down

she washed off her makeup and headed up to the upper house

[gimmesumsuga]

Sweeter than Sweet (88)

AO3 Link

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Jimin x Yoongi, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jungkook x reader, Jin x reader, Hoseok x reader.

Warnings: Nil of note

Word count: 9.3k

Previous / Epilogue 

So.  The final chapter.  It’s finally here.  It’s been a long time coming and honestly, it’s been so nerve-wracking writing this and hoping that people will like it and GOD I HOPE YOU’RE OK WITH THIS ENDING.  After two and a half years, trying to find a way to tie this all together has been... quite the task.  But anyway, enough rambling from me.  

There’ll be an epilogue after this - just a short one - so we don’t have to say goodbye quite yet but... yeah.  I hope you enjoy.  

“Whatcha making, hyungie? ”  To your right, Jimin’s eyes remain fixed on his phone as he calls out to the elder vampire pottering to and fro between the kitchen counters and the stove.  With one of Jimin’s thumbs caressing the side of your knee and his other scrolling through whatever Korean article he happens to be reading, you’re surprised Yoongi even realises his young lover is addressing him, so casual is his tone.  

“ Kimchi-jjigae ,” Yoongi murmurs in reply as his knife rhythmically thunks against the chopping board, and to your left you hear Hoseok longingly sigh at the mention of food. 

You can empathise with the feeling that spurred him to make such a sound.  You’ve been a vampire for less than a month and already you’ve started to miss the taste of real food, unable to imagine what it must be like for those around you for whom it's been so much longer.  It’s all too easy to understand why they sometimes give in and indulge despite the inevitable gastric upset that it brings. You’d done the very same just last week, unable to resist sneaking a slice of Jin’s vanilla bean cheesecake only to lament its vengeful return back up your oesophagus just a few minutes later - an experience unpleasant enough to sufficiently silence any cravings you might’ve had since; the smell of broth wafting over to you now no more tempting than that of cut grass or fragrant shampoo. 

And anyway, it’s not as though Yoongi is cooking with the intention of the meal he’s making actually being eaten.  He’s cooking because it gives his restless hands something to do - a task on which to concentrate and thereby silence the anxious thoughts that would otherwise occupy his mind - and Yoongi isn’t alone in his attempt to keep pre-occupied.  

One by one you’d gathered together in the kitchen as the day had drawn into night, some having woken early and some having not yet slept at all.  Namjoon’s imminent arrival has everyone on edge, and rather than remain in bed tossing and turning to and fro, all seven of you had ended up gravitating towards one another instead, seeking the reassurance found in numbers.  

Jin had already been here, in the kitchen, when you, Jimin and Yoongi had arrived here together, his brows furrowed in concentration as he furiously tapped away at the keys of his laptop - yelling when he’d lost at whichever game had him so engrossed.  Alarmed, Nova has been giving him a wide berth every since, hiding under the legs of the furthest possible bench and glaring reproachfully each and every time Jin dares make a sound. 

It was Jungkook and Taehyung who had joined you next, and they continue to occupy one another now, some hours later; Jungkook with his sketchpad in hand and tongue poking against the inside of his cheek as he tries to capture Taehyung’s likeness from where he sits posed across the other side of the table, a sleeping Yeontan in his arms.  

Hoseok arrived last of all, completing the set  He's been strangely quiet ever since he joined you, yet still seems to have trouble keeping his limbs from wanting to dance as he watches various choreography videos on his phone, volume turned down low.  It seems as though even in times of stress he’s unable to keep that innate sense of rhythm he’s blessed with at bay.  

You can’t help but note the subtle sense of guilt that settles in your stomach as you observe them all.  If it weren’t for you and your wanting to do this, Jin’s eyes might not be marred by such dark circles, nor Yoongi’s thumb-nail so thoroughly well-chewed as he stands gnawing on it in front of the stove.  Jimin’s knee wouldn’t be bobbing up and down so restlessly, the two youngest might still be in bed, sleeping in as late they usually do, and Hoseok…. Well, there are a lot of things that might be different for Hoseok if it weren’t for your arrival into their lives, but the less you dwell on that the better, you suppose.  

“Princess?” As if somehow sensing your need for distraction, Yoongi’s voice calls out to you.  “Fetch me the pork belly from the fridge?” 

“Sure,” you agree quickly, flashing Jimin a smile as he’s forced to relinquish his grip on your bracelet so that you’re able to move.  He smiles back having ceased his fiddling, though you can’t help but worry it looks a little strained, very aware of the soft sigh he releases as you make your way over to the refrigerator as instructed.  Inside, on the bottom shelf in a large glass bowl, is the meat Yoongi had left to marinate in there some half an hour or so earlier, and as he takes it from your hands and pulls back the covering film, the scent of rice wine is so pungent it almost makes you cough.  

“Thank you,” he wishes you softly, brushing a kiss to your temple as he passes on his way to the stove where he tips the pork into an awaiting pot, fat sizzling as it meets the heat.

“Do you need anything else?” Wanting to make yourself as useful as possible, you hover at his side as he resumes his place at the chopping board, slicing through mushrooms.  

“I’m almost done,” he assures, not taking his eyes away from the task at hand, “But thank you,” he says again, the corners of his lips curling into the smallest of smiles as he briefly glances your way.  

Dismissed, you wander back towards the group in hopes of finding further diversion.  You don’t dare disturb Jin - the last time you did he looked as though he might throw his laptop at you for having interrupted whatever kill-streak he was in the middle of.   Glancing up from where you’d been absent-mindedly watching Jin’s pink-haired avatar run across the screen, your eyes meet Jungkook’s, a smile tugging at your lips when he beckons you over.  

“What do you think, noona ?” he asks as you come to peer over his shoulder at his sketchbook.  He holds it at just enough of an angle to keep his drawings hidden from Taehyung’s view as the blonde-haired vampire squirms from side to side to try and take a peek.   

“He hasn’t given me boobs again, has he?” Taehyung pouts, and whilst you try to stifle a laugh a wicked grin appears on Jungkook’s face.  His muse groans, slumping forward till his head rests on the dining table and his torso hides Yeontan completely from view.  

“No, Tae, he hasn’t given you boobs,” you reassure, smiling just as hard as Jungkook at the thought of it, “Though, I’d really like to get a look at that sometime.”  

“ Jagi! ” Taehyung whines all the more, sitting up straight to hit you full-force with the adorable full pout of his lips and wide-openness of his eyes.  

"I’m only playing,” you grin whilst still sneaking in a side-glance to Jungkook that tells him you’re really anything but.  “It’s really good, baby,” you say, running your fingers absently through the ever-lengthening tresses of Jungkook’s hair to feel him preen at both your praise and his pet-name.  “Looks just like you, Tae.” 

And honestly, it does.  Even if he were to bestow Taehyung with some additional assets , the likeness would still be uncanny.  Jungkook has captured both him and Yeontan perfectly; from the delicateness of Taehyung’s long fingers carding through his playmate’s fur to the softness of his expression as he gazes down at the perfectly shaded puppy curled up in his lap.  

“You’re sure?” Taehyung checks, doubt seeping into his tone as he watches the way the youngest vampire curls his arm around your waist and coaxes you down to sit on his knee, adoration in his eyes.  It wouldn’t be the first time you and Jungkook have been partners in crime when it comes to playing pranks, so you can’t blame him for being suspicious, but when Jungkook finally relents and flashes the drawing Taehyung’s way, you can’t help but smile at the genuine delight you see written across the blonde vampire’s face.  

“Can I keep it when you’re done, gguk?” he asks, that boxy grin of his making an appearance when Jungkook swiftly nods, putting pencil to paper to continue shading the strong angle of Taehyung’s jaw.  You smile fondly at them both, placing an arm across Jungkook’s shoulder to keep yourself steady when Hoseok suddenly lets out a disgruntled sound from beside you. Nose wrinkled, he’s busy shoving Jimin back up off of his lap from where the younger vampire has flopped down in hopes of using his hyung’s thighs as a pillow.  Jimin’s grinning, his whole body going purposefully limp as Hoseok struggles to sit such a dead weight back up again (pun intended) and it only makes you smile more to see it, laughing when Hoseok finally gives up with a loud ‘yah!’ of frustration as Jimin’s head falls back into his lap.  

For someone who so freely lavishes affection on others, it never fails to amuse you just how unwilling Hoseok can sometimes be to being on the receiving end of it.  

“Hey Kookie?” You press a kiss to his temple to gain his attention.  “Can you do me next?” He looks up at you, one eyebrow raised and a dirty smirk twisting his mouth.  

“You want me to do you, noona ?”  A light smack to his shoulder has him laughing, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I meant draw me, you perv.”    

“Like one of my french girls?” he persists, smiling all the more lewdly when Yoongi starts to chuckle along like some dirty old man from where he’s stood stirring the contents of the pot now bubbling away on the stove.  

“Have you even seen Titanic, Jungkook?” you laugh, just about to reach down and tweak one of his nipples through his shirt as punishment when Jin suddenly throws his arms wide and exclaims, “I’m flying, Jack!” and sends the whole room into peals of laughter.  

And that’s it, then.  Once Jimin sits up and starts to belt out a somewhat pitchy rendition of ‘My Heart Will Go On’, any remaining tension left in the room is well and truly broken.  Jin joins in, Taehyung does too, and then Jungkook, Hoseok, Yoongi - or at least, he tries, bless him - until finally even you’re singing your lungs out with tears of laughter leaking from the corners of your eyes.  

And as sappy as it sounds, it almost does feel as though you’re flying as you’re sat here amongst them - heart soaring whilst you’re surrounded by these silly, wonderful men that you love so very much.  

The seven of you are singing so loud that if it weren’t for the exceptional hearing you’ve so recently been blessed with, you might not have heard the resounding knock that suddenly echoes through the manor.  You do, though - all of you do - and as another knock comes, somehow even louder than the last, the whole room falls silent, bodies tensing and eyes wide in time for the third and final knock to sound.  

“He’s here.”  

Eyes narrow and breaths are held.  Your gaze meets Jimin's as he sits up straight, on high alert, and there's an emotion written on his face that you can't quite put a name to right now.  Not whilst you're so preoccupied with how strange the absence of a furiously beating heart feels. All the same feelings Namjoon usually inspires in you are still there; your body just lacks the means to properly express them, now that you're dead.  

There's no clammy hands.  No quickening of breath. It's disconcerting and yet reassuring all at once, reminding you of just how different of a person - how different a creature - you are since you and Namjoon last met.  Now, even if he wanted to hurt you (though, you're sincerely hoping he doesn't) you doubt he'd be able to.  

You're a lot more than just the 'family pet' these days, that's for certain.  

You stand from your seat on Jungkook's lap quicker than you realise, body moving before your mind has the chance to catch up.  You're nervous - undoubtedly so - but part of you is just eager to finally go and lay to rest all the history between you. To settle things once and for all.  That eagerness gives you the courage to straighten your spine and square your shoulders; a tentative smile on your face as you turn to the others. 

Before you have the chance to speak, however, Jin promptly snapping his laptop shut mid-game completely derails whatever it was you were just about to say.  

"What're you doing?" you ask as almost perfectly in sync, the vampires around you abandon their various pastimes to join you on your feet, beautifully poised for action.  

"We could never let you do this on your own, jagi. " Taehyung's impossibly long fingers slip between your own, squeezing your hand in his as Jimin comes to your side and claims the other - stoic and silent as his gaze meets yours.  The weight of his hand in yours feels like an anchor; solid and grounding. It's comforting - just as comforting as the sweet kiss Taehyung brushes across your knuckles before placing your hand into Yoongi's waiting, open palm.  

"You can always change your mind," Yoongi reminds you, searching your gaze for any sign that you may want to turn back.  You appreciate the offer, and you're sure that deep down, some of them may wish that you would, but it's too late now. You need to see this through.  

"No.  I'm sure," you reply with as much confidence as you can muster, and out of the corner of your eye you see Hoseok nod to himself with a look of grim determination.  

"OK," Jimin says in that sweet, melodic voice of his, "Then let's go." 

The short journey from the kitchen to the entrance hall has never felt longer than it does now, with a heart so full of trepidation.  You can only recall one other occasion where you felt such dread whilst taking these same steps; back when rather than walking side by side with your lovers you had run towards them instead, drawn by the sounds of Jimin’s frantic cries.  It’s a memory that enters unbidden into your mind, pulled to the surface by Namjoon’s arrival, and you squeeze Yoongi’s hand as you attempt to push away the image of his delicate body cradled limp and bloody in Jimin’s arms. It’s not something you want to think about when you’re about to come face to face with the man responsible for having made that happen - can only hope that the vampire waiting outside your front door is now very different from the one who was forced out of it the last time the two of you met within these walls.  

You hesitate as the manor’s solid wooden doors come into sight, a lump in your throat as your footsteps falter.   It’s not that you’re scared, per se - it’s just that you’ve never been very good with confrontation even at the best of times.  You want this to go as smoothly as possible - if such an outcome is even possible at all. You just hope that - 

“Allow me.”  Sweeping past you in all his handsome glory, Jin approaches the front door with nary a hint of nervousness.  There’s a formidable expression on his face, one that sits totally at odds with the soft, over-sized sweater he’s wearing.  On his stomach, an adorable cartoon whale swims amongst fluffy sky-blue fabric - far too cute a fashion choice for someone who looks as though he's just one wrong move away from kicking serious ass.  

You murmur your thanks regardless of whether Jin might hear you over the sound of him unbolting the front door with deft, graceful hands.  Him having taken charge removes the chance for you to hesitate even more than you already have, and before you know it - before you've even had a chance to take whatever bracing breath you'd imagined you'd take before coming face to face - the door is swinging open.  

The weather has gotten more mild since last you and Namjoon met.  Rather than the howling wind and freezing rain that accompanied his sudden exit from your home some weeks ago, the breeze that ruffles through your hair now is by far a more pleasant one; the sun's warmth lingering despite its absence.  

"Evening, hyung, " Namjoon greets in that deep voice of his, little more than the tips of his hair visible over the top of the elder vampire's head.  Even with the door wide open, Jin's shoulders are so broad that even at Namjoon's greater height, he's almost entirely hidden from view.  Without loosening your grip on either of the hands you hold, you find yourself rocking forward onto the balls of your feet to try and get a better look, but to no avail.  Jin seems determined to shield you, one of his hands planted firmly on the door frame to block Namjoon's entrance.  

"Hello, Namjoon," he replies, and though his tone may sound pleasant, there's a tightness to it that puts you on edge.  "Before you come in, I just wanted to remind you-" Namjoon laughs wryly, cutting Jin off mid-sentence as he places one of his large atop his elder's shoulder and pats.  

"I know, hyung, " he assures, and even without being able to see his face, you can hear the smile he’s wearing, "I'll be on my best behaviour."  His hand slips down onto Jin's bicep as your protector lets his arm slowly fall back down to his side, opening up the way for Namjoon to come inside.  "Promise."  

Realising what it was that Jin had intended to remind him of - his promise to kill Namjoon himself should he ever dare to cause trouble again - you really hope that Namjoon is sincere about keeping his vow.  You'd rather not witness any more blood spilt between these brothers; you've seen enough to last a lifetime as it is.  

Jin steps back from the doorway, a furrow in his brow as Namjoon steps forward to take his place.  Dressed in a burnt orange sweater that's at least a size or two too large, he looks marginally better than the last time you met - though that's hardly an achievement given how back then he'd intentionally tried to appear weak and sickly for the sake of his rouse.  

"It's good to see you all."  With his hands clasped together neatly in front of him, Namjoon almost looks contrite as you all stand and stare at one another, at a loss for what to say.  Silent and stiff, the atmosphere is unmistakably awkward.

Perhaps you should be the one to speak first?  You’re the one that asked him to come, after all, so it’s no good just standing here like the cat’s got your tongue.  

Mustering up your courage, you lift your gaze from his chest and meet Namjoon’s eyes for the first time since his arrival.  They’re just as golden as you remember, and as he looks back at you, you swear his gaze softens - a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  Almost as if by reflex, you feel your own lips curving into shy, answering smile, and just as they’re about to part to speak -

“Thank you for coming.”  They’re four words that you never would’ve expected to hear Jimin say, but you’re thankful that he has.  As if him having spoken somehow grants his blessing on Namjoon’s arrival, the vampires around you seem to collectively relax; rounding of shoulders and softly exhaled sighs of breaths no longer held.  

“Thank you for inviting me.”  Even Namjoon looks relieved as he unclasps his hands, slotting them inside the pockets of his pants.  

“I didn’t,” Jimin retorts somewhat sharply, and as you glance to the side you note the way his jaw clenches despite your gentle squeeze of his hand.  

“What the lady wants, the lady gets,” Namjoon chortles in spite of Jimin’s hostility, “It’s good to know at least one thing hasn’t changed.”  

Pursing your lips, you almost feel mildly affronted by Namjoon’s insinuation that you’re spoilt until you quickly realise that he likely has a point, and from the smirk Yoongi’s wearing you’d be willing to bet he silently agrees.  

Well, whatever.  It’s not as though you getting your own way turned out to be a bad thing where he’s concerned.  

“So,” Namjoon continues, taking another step forward to finally allow Jin to close the door behind them, “For what purpose have I been summoned?  I have to say I was surprised to have Taehyung go to the trouble of tracking me down.” Nervousness has you clearing your throat as your hands slip from those of the vampires beside you, not quite able to look Namjoon in the eyes as you break away from the group to approach him.  

“Should we... go to the garden to talk?” you suggest, very aware of the many sets of ears and eyes focused on the two of you.  You’ll never be able to say all the things you need to say with this many people listening in so intently.  

“Lead the way.”  With a slight nod of his head, Namjoon comes forward with intent to follow after you, but when you turn around you find you’ve nowhere to go.  Jimin blocks your path, arms folded, eyes narrowed and jaw so tight that the veins on his neck are popping.  

“You haven’t forgotten what you promised?” he asks, one eyebrow rising ever so slightly as he peers down the gentle slope of his nose at you.  

“No…”  Looking around the group, your gaze lands on Hoseok just as his falls on you.  Easy-going and yet fiercely protective; sweet but firm when he needs to be. Out of all of your options, Namjoon’s successor seems the preferable one to have loitering nearby should this all turn to shit.  

As if reading your mind, Hoseok half raises one hand awkwardly into the air, shuffling his weight from foot to foot.  

“I could go with them if you like.”  Jimin’s gaze flickers back and forth across your face to gauge your reaction to his hyung’s suggestion, and on seeing your hopeful little smile, he subtly nods his head and takes a step back, clearing your path.  

“Alright.  We’ll be right here, ok?”  His glances over your shoulder towards Namjoon.  “In case you need us.”  

“I know,” you reply softly, closing the gap between you and placing on hand on his folded arms to give a squeeze for reassurance, your eyes fluttering closed for just a second as you brush your lips across his. “I’ll be fine.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” declares another voice as hands find your hips and a similarly fleeting kiss skims the tender junction where your shoulder meets your neck.  You know it’s Yoongi not only from his tone but the delicate pout of his lips where they press against your skin.  

“Please do.”  Twisting, you smile as you and Yoongi come face to face.  He smiles back in return, content to let you take his hand and place it into Jimin’s until you should return.  Together, they’ll keep each other strong.  

“Shall we?”  Namjoon’s sudden arrival at your side pulls your focus back to the matter at hand - body tensing in response to his close proximity.  

“Sure.”  At your nod, Hoseok turns to lead the way, walking ahead as you and Namjoon follow on behind through the rest of the group towards the corridor from whence you came.  

“ Jagiya .”  A tentative touch of fingertips to your wrist makes you pause, and it’s with a sweet, reassuring smile that you try to communicate to Taehyung not to worry without having to actually say the words.  The concerned furrow of his brow remains, unfortunately, but when Jungkook slings his arm around his hyung’s shoulder and pulls him close, you know that they, too, will take care of one another.  

They all will, as they always do.  

Namjoon’s smiling somewhat wistfully as you fall back into step but remains silent.  His footsteps seem so loud compared to yours as you walk the hallway together; Namjoon in shoes that are scuffed at the heel and you in a comfy pair of rubber-soled slippers.  

“Hoseok was a good choice as my replacement,” he comments, lifting your gaze from where you’d been staring down at the motion of your feet.  Your eyes travel the length of his imposing stature to his face - still just as handsome as the first time you met despite all that has taken place between you.  He looks ahead in spite of your appraisal, his focus solely on the back of the vampire that has been filling his shoes since having left; undoing all the wrongs Namjoon had made, trying to make them right.  

Hoseok chooses not to reply to Namjoon’s compliment.  You know he’ll have heard it - Namjoon had said it more than loud enough.  

“He’s done a really good job.  Kept the guys in work and our stores well-stocked.”  Namjoon ‘mms’ along, nodding his head. “Don’t know what we’d have done without him, really.”  

You wish you were better able to read Namjoon’s expression but it seems as though he’s keeping his cards close to his chest, for now.  Whether or not that’s intentional you’re not sure, but either way, it doesn’t keep you from wishing. Is he feeling proud of Hoseok, you wander?  Resentful? Apathetic?  

When you reach the double doors to the garden, Hoseok holds them open for the both of you. You expect him to follow as you begin down the fairy-light lit path that winds deeper into the night, but he hangs back instead, loitering beside the hedgerow.  

“You’re not coming?” you ask, turning to see him standing there once you realise you can no longer hear his footsteps crunching along the gravel with yours.  

“Unless you want me to?” he offers, cocking one eyebrow, and at first, you’re really not sure.  You look to Namjoon and once again he seems unconcerned, shoulders shrugging, his hands still deep in his pockets.  

“Your call.  I won’t be offended, either way.”  In some strange way, Namjoon’s nonchalance is somewhat reassuring.  If he had any bad intentions, surely he’d be pushing for the two of you to be alone rather than leaving it all up to you?  

“I think we’ll be ok,” you say, and your stomach does something a little funny at the small, grateful smile that tugs at the corners of Namjoon’s mouth.  

“Ok.”  Hoseok leans back against the wall of the manor, folding his arms across his chest as he fixes Namjoon with a stern look despite addressing you.  “You know where I am. Just shout, and I’ll be there.”  

“Thanks, Hobi,” you smile, and then you and Namjoon take your leave.  

The garden, as always, remains tranquil despite the worry in your heart.  Now that spring is on its way, the night-blooming flowers you’d planted last year are starting to thrive, releasing their sweet scent into the evening air.  Ahead, you can hear the faint trickle of the fountain and beyond it, the gentle creaking of a swing in the breeze - your final destination.  

In silence, you sit side by side.  The swing’s slatted seat is only made for two, forcing you to cosy up far more than you’d originally planned.  You’d been aware of Namjoon’s scent - far more than ever before thanks to your newly enhanced sense of smell - but now, sat so close, it’s almost overwhelming.  Warmly spiced and fragrant, it- 

“You’re not scared of me anymore, are you?”  Namjoon’s sudden observation interrupts your runaway thoughts, and when you sharply look up from where you’d been staring at his lap, you’re surprised by the crooked smile you find him wearing.  You hesitate under his scrutinising gaze, unsure of what to say, and Namjoon laughs at your lack of reply. “I mean, it would make sense.” Taking his hands out of his pockets, he uses one to hold onto the chain suspending the bench on which you sit as he begins to rock his weight back and forth - heel, toe, heel, toe, heel, toe - to gently move the swing.  “You’re even stronger than I am right now.”  

Is Namjoon right?  Are you really not so afraid of him anymore?  Taking a moment to examine how you’re feeling as the two of you quietly swing back and forth, you realise what he’s said is true.  You’ve been nervous, certainly. You’re still nervous, in fact. But scared? Not so much. You know, now, that should you ever need to defend yourself you’d be more than capable of doing so.  Your training sessions with Jin and Jungkook have certainly helped in that department, even without your added strength taken into account.  

“I guess you’re right,” you admit and again Namjoon smiles, looking down at his feet as he exhales a short, breathy laugh.  “And while we’re on the subject,” you continue, playing with the hem of your top where it lays across your lap, “Part of the reason I wanted you to come tonight was so that I could thank you… for that.”  Namjoon looks up and meets your gaze, brow furrowing slightly as his feet fall still and the swing's momentum ceases. “For saving me, again. For turning me.”  

He stares back at you, blinking once, twice, then thrice - like he can't quite figure out what he's meant to say.  

"... They told you it was me?" he finally asks, "Can't say I expected that." 

"I mean, they didn't so much tell me.  More like Jin and Jungkook just blurted it right out."  Namjoon laughs at your admission, fondly shaking his head. "But they didn't deny it when I confronted them, either.  And don't get me wrong, it's not as though this just-" You gesture vaguely with your hands, hoping he'll gather your meaning. "-Just… Makes up for everything that happened before."  

Namjoon's expression looks pained at the mere mention of his former transgressions.  He twists in his seat to face you more directly, clasping his hands together. 

 "I know-" he begins urgently.  

"But-" You interrupt his interruption, "-But I'm still grateful.  You didn't have to come back here and help the others find me. Could've just stood back and watched me die rather than turn me.  But you didn't." Namjoon straightens in his seat, glancing down at his feet and wringing his hands. "So yeah… thank you. Really." 

Namjoon releases his hands only to rub awkwardly at the arm of his sweater; a gesture far more human than you've ever seen from him before.  It's disarming - endearing, almost.  

"Well… you're welcome."  He meets your gaze, smiling cautiously.  

You get the feeling that this is one of the last things Namjoon had expected when Taehyung had invited them here, and if you're honest, you find it somewhat strangely satisfying to catch him so off guard.  You examine his face; the earnestness in his golden eyes and the shallow dimples of his cheeks - smile not quite broad enough yet to bring them out in full force. He looks well - better than you expected him to - and he scoffs a laugh when you tell him so.  

"I've looked better," he dismisses, leaning back into the swing's seat to restart it's slow back and forth motion. 

"Well, I can't imagine you've had it easy these past few weeks…" You shift in your seat, eyes cast down to watch your fingers busily playing with your bracelet. "Where've you been staying, anyway?" Just as you look up, Namjoon looks away, scratching distractedly at the side of his face. 

"Here and there," he answers, and you wonder if the evasiveness of his reply means he's been sleeping rough more often than not.  You hope that's not the case, despite all the bad things he's done.  

"Fair enough," you say when he offers no further explanation. "To be honest, I was surprised Tae even managed to find you.  I'd kind of expected you to have moved on already." Namjoon looks at you, thoughtful.  

"I thought about leaving. Finding a new place, a new life." 

"Why didn't you?" He pauses, smiling faintly before offering an answer.  

"I guess there was just something still holding me back," he says, and as self-absorbed as it might be, your mind can't help but jump to the conclusion that that means his reason for staying was you .  Whether you're happy or concerned about that, you can't quite figure out. "I've had… A lot of time to think since I left." Namjoon opens up his hands as he speaks and stares down at the lines etched in his palms. "A lot of time alone.  Done a lot of self-reflection." 

He pauses but you remain silent, realising that he probably has a lot more to say.  Somewhere off in the distance, you hear the sound of a small animal darting through the undergrowth, its little feet scurrying between the bushes under the cover of darkness.  

"You were right about what you said."  Your head whips round to face Namjoon when he finally speaks again, eyebrows rising in curiosity. "Before, when you said that I didn't love you, you were right." He looks up at you, a deep furrow between his brows. "At least, not in the way I should have done.  The way I treated you was… despicable. The things I did? Unforgivable."  

For a moment, Namjoon seems to forget himself - moves as if to reach out and take your hands but stops himself at the last moment and keeps them clenched in his lap, instead.  

"I never meant for it to go so far or to get so bad, but once I had that first taste of you… I… I just couldn’t stop," he explains, and now that he's opening it up it seems as though the words are tumbling over one another in their haste to come out. "I was so certain I was beyond saving.  Beyond capable of being loved even if I were deserving of it…" Namjoon's expression turns into one of pain, a sadness in his eyes as he looks back at you with the golden glow of fairy lights illuminating his face. The sight puts pain in your chest; an ache where your beating heart used to be.  “But then you came and I thought… maybe…” 

“There were already people here willing to love you, Namjoon,” you interject, shuffling closer, “Long before I ever arrived.”  He smiles ruefully.

“I realise that, now, but I took too long.  The damage is already done.” Namjoon shrugs his shoulders in defeat, still wearing that same sad smile as he leans forward to rest his forearms on his thighs, rubbing his palms together.  

You wish you knew what to say - wish you could offer him some comfort regardless of his worthiness of it - but you find yourself at a loss for words.  You can’t pretend as though his former relationships aren’t as in poor shape as he says. If he were to try to make amends, it would certainly be a long and difficult road - for all of them, not just Namjoon.  

“Back when I came to the bar to warn you, you asked me what I wanted,” he says suddenly, hair ruffling in the breeze as he turns his head to look up at you, “Do you remember?”  You recall the memory easily enough - there had only been that one occasion Namjoon had ever visited you at your workplace, invited or otherwise.  

“I haven’t come to start a fight.”

“Then what do you want?” 

“The same thing I’ve always wanted.” Is it vanity that makes you presume that he means you when he says that? 

“You said what you wanted the same thing you always do,” you recall aloud, embarrassment making you drop your gaze as you admit, “To be honest, I assumed you meant me.”  You hear Namjoon softly chuckle, and then suddenly he’s touching you - lifting your chin with the curl of his index finger to bring your gaze back to his. It doesn’t startle you as much as you’d anticipated it would; doesn’t inspire the fear you’d expected should his hands ever lay on you again.  

“A reasonable assumption,” he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners until his expression becomes sombre once more.  Sighing, he lets his hand fall, linking his hands together where they dangle off the end of his lap. “But what I really meant was… family.  First, I lost my sister, then my parents. My friends - my brothers .  You.”  He falls silent again for a moment, shaking his head as it drops forward, obscuring his face from your view.  

“Namjoo-” 

“I’ve lost everyone.”  Namjoon sits up abruptly, and when he turns his face your way you swear you see a glassiness to his eyes. “And all through my own fault.”  

Looking back at him now, you realise Namjoon really was right - you’re not afraid of him at all anymore.  If anything, you feel sorry for him.  No one deserves to spend an entire eternity alone, whether or not their exile was somewhat… self-inflicted.  Maybe… maybe if...

He shifts in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable under the intensity of your gaze.  

“I don’t expect you to say anything,” he says when the silence has gone on too long, “I know I don’t deserve-”  

“I can’t speak for the others-” You stop him mid-sentence, and Namjoon settles back down into his seat having almost stood up to leave, his expression one of cautious curiosity.  “-But I’d like to believe no one is ever totally beyond redemption.”   

Redemption.  The word is like kindling to the fragile ember of hope that flickers in Namjoon’s eyes at the mere mention of it.  

“I still want to think that somewhere inside you, deep down, is the Namjoon who cared for his sister so much that he did everything he could to save her.  Who offered his brothers immortality rather than face losing them, too.” You smile meekly. “Who saved me, knowing that to do so he would be putting his own life at risk.”  

Namjoon’s eyes search yours, though you’re not certain what it is he’s looking for.  The trace of a lie, maybe? That you’re just humouring him out of pity? Giving him false hope?  You hope he knows you better than to think you’re the sort of person that would.  

Finally, after what feels like minutes have gone by, he sighs.  

“I want to believe you.” There’s a raw, vulnerable edge to his voice when he speaks, twisting his body to better face you.  “I want… to be better. I want to… to be a man who’s deserving of your love, even if… even if I never have it.”  

“Namjoon…” 

It’s instinctive, the way you reach out - the way you gently place your hand on his cheek.  Namjoon leans into it, eyes closing for just a moment, and you just can’t help it, how your heart bleeds for him.  You should be less affected - should feel colder and more apathetic towards this man who betrayed you so badly - but you just… can’t.  There are many unflattering things people could call you, many faults that they could name, but they could never accuse you of being cold or unfeeling.  It’s just not in your nature. Perhaps some might say that’s a fault in itself, but here you are regardless.  

You wish, in another life - one where less mistakes were made and fewer hearts were broken - that you were able to hold him.  Promise to give Namjoon all the love he so sorely needs to be so that maybe, one day, he might be able to heal. 

But there’s too much water under the bridge.  Even if Namjoon were one day to come back into all of your lives, it could never be the way it was before.  You can’t be that person for him anymore. It’s time for you to both move on, once and for all.  

“Joonie,” you say again, ever so softly, and when he opens his eyes it makes your chest hurt all the more to see how desperately hopeful he looks.  “I can forgive you for what you did. I need to, for both our sakes.” Namjoon smiles, lifting his hand to place it over yours where it lingers on his cheek, but when you start to pull away his expression falters, brow creasing in confusion.  “But I can’t just forget it. Not yet.”  

You hope the implication that maybe one day that might change helps to soften the blow as you fold your hands together in your lap, offering him a sympathetic smile that at first, he turns away from.  Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath as though to collect himself, and you find yourself on edge, wondering if your rejection will be taken as badly as it was once before.  

“I understand.”  Turns out, you needn’t of worried.  Namjoon looks sad, certainly, but there’s a resignedness about him that you find reassuring - especially when he huffs a laugh and admits, “I’d probably think you were a fool if you’d said differently.”  You laugh as well, knowing he’s right, and it feels as though a weight has been lifted as you sit up straight and run both hands through your hair, breathing out a sigh.  

“Can I be honest with you?” Namjoon asks and instantly you nod, giving him your full attention.  “For the first time in almost thirty years… I have no idea what to do. I wasn’t happy before, but at least looking after the others kept me busy.  Now there’s just… nothing.” He licks his lips, wetting them. “It’s freeing, but it’s also really fucking terrifying.”  

“I get that.”  And you do. Without the others to keep you company, you’re not sure what on earth you’d do to pass the time for the rest of all eternity.  “I know it’s pretty vague advice, but personally? I’d really like to see you start living again. Find something good , something for you to pour all that passion into.”  You smile as you playfully knock your thigh against his, pleased when Namjoon does the same back.  “You’ve got too bright a mind to dwell on such dark thoughts all the time, Joon.”  

“I’m not sure where I’d even start…  But something good sounds…” He shrugs his shoulders, offering you a lopsided grin. “... good, I guess.” 

“And there’s something else I wanted to speak to you about, as well.”  You call out loudly to summon Hosoek, and within seconds he comes running towards you, eyes wild and fists already raised in preparation to fight.  “Hobi, it’s ok,” you reassure quickly as Namjoon puts hands up in surrender - a gesture that for some reason has you holding back the urge to giggle.  Hesitantly, Hoseok lets his arms fall back to his sides and relaxes his posture, all the while his gaze flitting between you and Namjoon as though to doubly make sure that everything is as ok as you say it is. 

“Everything alright?”  

“Do you remember that talk we had yesterday?  About my old apartment?” Eyebrows furrowing slightly, he nods. “Turns out, Jimin never stopped paying the lease, just in case I ever changed my mind and wanted to leave,” you explain, turning to Namjoon, and it makes you smile to see the way his eyes start to widen as it dawns on him what you’re about to offer. “It’s yours, if you want it, and so is your share of the manor's wealth.”  Namjoon’s head turns to look at Hoseok, incredulous. “Hobi and I have already spoken about it. It’s only fair."  

"You don't have to do this," Namjoon says quickly, eyes flitting rapidly back and forth between you and Hoseok. "Really. I'll be fine." 

"We know we don't have to," Hoseok smiles, folding his arms across his chest.  

"But we want to," you correct, pleased when Hoseok nods his agreement. "You saved my life, now we're giving you an opportunity to turn things around and save yours.  We can call it even." 

"I'm not sure that's right." Despite his disagreement with your sentiment Namjoon can't seem to help but smile. "I think I still owe you rather a lot more than you do me." 

"Most likely," you grin in return.  Standing, you reach down into your back pocket to retrieve the keys you'd stashed away earlier; a silver pair that jingle against the penguin engraved disc of your keyring as they're dropped into Namjoon's open, waiting hand. "Just to warn you, there'll be an awful lot of plushies waiting for you. You might want to redecorate." 

"I'm sure it'll all be very… you," Namjoon laughs, joining you on your feet.  Falling silent, he looks down at the keys in his hand and you see his shoulders move with the weight of the breath he takes.  "Thank you." He looks so sincere as he meets your gaze again, closing his fist and then pressing it to his chest as his other hand reaches for yours.  He squeezes when you grant it to him, smiling once more as you squeeze back just as tight. 

"We should probably head back inside," you say after a beat or two have passed - sufficient enough time to memorise the feel of Namjoon's hand wrapped around yours. "The others are probably going out of their minds by now." 

"Are you kidding?" Hoseok laughs as he falls into step with you as the three of you head back towards the house, "I can hear Jimin's teeth grinding from here." 

You re-enter the house together, a seed of hope taking root in your heart at the amenable way Namjoon and Hoseok are able to converse back and forth, almost as if the last few weeks had never happened.

"Once you're settled, I'll call you to discuss the finer details, and when-"  You're distracted from their talk of practicalities by Nova’s sudden high-pitched meowing, and on looking to your right you see her coming towards you down the hall with her sleek black tail swaying gently behind her as she walks, her intelligent eyes glinting as they catch the light.  

“Hi Nova,” you greet, stopping the other vampires in their tracks when they hear you speak.  Meowing again, she winds her way between your ankles as you smile down at her, brushing against your legs with each turn of her limber body until finally, you bend to pick her up, scooping her into your arms.  Namjoon approaches her with a fond smile, waiting for you to nod before reaching out to give her the fussing she truly desires, and you laugh at the sheer volume of her purrs as she rubs the side of her face against every part of him she can reach, nibbling at the tips of his outstretched fingers.  

“I think she’s missed you,” you comment and Namjoon chuckles, giving a firm scratch to the underside of her chin.  

“The feelings mutual,” he purrs back at her, lavishing her in affection for just a few moments longer before finally dragging himself away - fingers restless at his sides you make your way back to the entrance hall, as though he almost wishes they were still in amongst her fur.  

The others seem to barely have moved since you left them.  They linger at the bottom of the staircase, chatting amongst themselves, but when Yeontan barks at having spotted Nova from across the room, silence abruptly falls. 

“Is everything ok?” Urgently, Jimin comes toward you with hands outstretched, laying both on your shoulders to keep you at arm’s length while he surveys your wellbeing, a furrow in his brow.  

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you reassure softly, offering him a small smile as he meets your eyes, searching them for confirmation.  “Really. We’re fine.” He nods, still looking somewhat uncertain, yet he releases you nonetheless, stepping back so that Namjoon is able to step forward and address the group.  

It’s sad how suspiciously they regard him, though you completely understand why they do.  You’re sure Namjoon understands, too, and to his credit, he appears to be doing his best to ignore the stony silence he’s met with - or at least not let it bother him.  

“I know it’ll never be enough to make up for all the things I’ve done,” he begins, gesticulating restlessly with his hands as he talks, “But… nonetheless, I wanted to say I’m sorry.  To all of you. For everything.” Shuffling their feet, the group as a whole looks unsure of how to respond to Namjoon’s apology. Taehyung’s focusing all his attention on Yeontan whilst Jungkook avoids eye contact altogether; Jimin’s stony faced whilst Jin’s is impossible to read.  It’s only Yoongi who meets Namjoon eye for eye and nods his head in acknowledgement. Yoongi, who almost died at the younger vampire’s hands, and yet has remained kind enough - soft-hearted enough - to at least hear his apology out.  

Namjoon’s smiles gratefully, bobbing his head in return, and when Yoongi glances your way you mouth a ‘thank you’ that the dark-haired vampire shrugs his shoulders to, feigning nonchalance.  

“I should go,” Namjoon declares when no one volunteers any further reply, recognising that at least for now, reconciliation remains a lost cause.  You follow after him as he heads towards the door, Nova still cradled in your arms, and as he reaches for the handle you quickly call out,

“Don’t be a stranger, ok?”  He pauses, twisting to look back at you and the vampires stood at your rear.  “I mean… it’ll take time for things to get better but…” You glance at the others around you before looking back to Namjoon, smiling kindly, “That’s something we’ve all got plenty of.”  Namjoon chuckles fondly and in the small of your back you feel a hand being placed, rubbing gently up and down.  

“That we have, little one,” he smiles, and even after all this time - all that’s happened - that nickname still stirs something within you.  It’s not lust, and it’s certainly not love, but a feeling of… nostalgia, almost.   

With one final parting look, Namjoon turns to leave, pulling open the heavy front doors and stepping out into the night.  Before he can disappear into the dark, however, Nova begins to squirm restlessly in your arms, letting out a loud series of meows more akin to wails. 

Namjoon stops in his tracks.  

Looking down, you see Nova peering up you imploringly with those green, intelligent eyes of hers, and you’re sure it’s just your imagination, but you feel almost as if she’s trying to tell you something as she meows again, tail swishing.  

“Joon?”  You go after him, not stopping until he’s within arms reach - close enough to allow the wriggling Nova to gracefully leap out of your grasp and into the embrace of a very startled Namjoon.  

“W-what-?” he stammers as he hastily rearranges his arms to accommodate the feline form curling up against his chest.  The sight of him so flustered and caught off guard is so endearing that you can’t help but start to grin, pressing your lips together in an attempt to stifle the laughter bubbling up inside your lungs.  

“I think the lady hath spoken,” you observe as Nova rubs her face against Namjoon’s jaw, her meows now deep, rumbling purrs of contentment.  He strokes her despite his utter bewilderment, long fingers carding through her fur, and watching the two of them you know for certain that letting her go is the right idea.  What better way to slowly soften Namjoon’s heart and give him purpose than for him to have something to care for all of his own? “Look after her, ok?” He looks up from the cat cradled in his arms.  

“Are you sure?” he asks and when you nod, he smiles so hard that for the first time since he got here, you finally get a flash of Namjoon’s infamous dimples.  “Thank you. Really,” he says earnestly, and as Namjoon wishes you goodbye, his golden eyes take one long, last lingering look up and down your form before he turns, takes his leave, and you softly close the door.  

Turning the key in the lock, a heavy exhale leaves your lungs, and for a moment you stand with one hand pressed to the door and eyes closed to gather yourself.  You’re so relieved that it’s impossible not to smile despite the nagging worry at the back of your mind that Jimin might be upset at you just having given away what was originally his gift to you, but just as it starts to push to the forefront and cause your smile to falter, Jimin’s voice rings soft in your ear.  

“That was really kind, what you just did.”  You turn in the embrace of his arms as they settle around your waist, looking up into eyes that await you.  

“Really?  You’re not upset?”   

“No, kitten,” he assures, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours, a smile tugging at his lips, “I’m not upset.  Though, you’re awfully pious for the creature of the night, you know.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”  Smiling, you circle your arms around him too and Jimin begins to sway almost as if the two of you are dancing, hips swinging side to side.  

“Aside from making the rest of us look bad... of course not.”  Jimin’s lips find yours in a sweet, fleeting kiss, and when he pulls away his eyes are practically glowing with affection, cheeks full and rounded with happiness.  “If anything, it only makes me love you more.”  

Yoongi appears at your side, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a low hum of agreement.  

“What about you, oppa ?” you ask teasingly, tilting your head in order to find his lips and speak against them.  

“You already know how we feel, princess.”  Yoongi nips at your bottom lip when you whine, chuckling deep down low.  Yes, of course you know - but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to hear it out loud.  “You know we adore you,” he whispers as Jimin assaults the other side of your neck with soft, lingering kisses.  “We cherish you, all of us.”  

Your two lovers pull away to reveal the rest of the group watching on; fond smiles on their faces, Jin’s chest puffed up with pride beneath the arms he’s folded across them.  Seeing them all there safe, happy and smiling - your family, your friends, your lovers, your everythings - it’s almost enough to bring you to tears.  Never would you have thought yourself capable of being able to love someone so much, or be so blessed as to receive so much love in return.

You’re so lucky.  So, so lucky.  

“Careful,” you say, blinking back the sting in your eyes, “You’re going to make me cry in a minute.”  

“Well we wouldn’t want that, would we, kitten?” Jimin teases, taking your hand in his and squeezing it tight as Yoongi claims your other, linking his fingers with yours.  “Anyone up for some pool?”  

Almost in perfect unison, your beloved vampires throw their hands up in the air - Jungkook shouting his enthusiasm with a ‘let’s get it!’ so loud that it almost makes you jump.  

“Dibs not with Jin-hyungie, ” Hoseok sing-songs up ahead as you make your way towards the hall, cue indignant shrieking from the eldest of the group and laughter from the rest.  

God, you love them.  You love them, you love them, you love them .  

“I love you,” you call out to them, unable to contain the affection that’s overflowing within you, tugging on your lover’s hands to pull them ever closer to your sides.  You can’t imagine anywhere else they should ever be - anywhere else that you could ever belong.  

“We love you!” Taehyung shouts back, and in his arms, Yeontan yelps his wholehearted agreement.  Up ahead, Jungkook throws his arms around Jin’s shoulders to drag him down low enough to ruffle his hair as they walk, insisting,

“But I’m still her favourite, you know?” 

****************************************************************************************

*deep breath*

Oh, I hope you liked it...

Please, it would mean so much to me to hear your thoughts. Whether it just be about the ending or maybe you've been a silent reader all this time, I'd so love to know what you've made of all of this. I've been writing this fic for two and a half years and finally drawing it to a close has me feeling... pretty emotional to say the least.

Stay tuned for the short epilogue that I'll hopefully be posting once I return from my vacation.

I love you guys. I really do. Thank you for all your unending support - whether you've only just found this fic or whether you've been here since the start. Love you <3

[qatirna-can-read]

Tsagaan Sar - Q

Khadagan chopped feverishly at a head of garlic. A young Qatirna - still too small to look up and see the tears painting her mother’s cheeks - toddled up to the woman, gripping at the fabrics of her skirts for balance. 

“Mama! <What cooking?!>” the child shouted excitedly in a broken Eorzean Xaelic tongue. She nuzzled her face into the layered fabrics and giggled.

Khadagan set the knife down on the cutting board and used the back of her clawed hand to wipe away the tears from her eyes. She looked down at her daughter and smiled an earnest but sad smile. Before picking the affectionate child up and balancing her on her hip so she could use a free hand to stir a pot simmering on the stove.

She looked so much like her father. Little freckles dancing across her nose just the way Batu’s did. Her strange purple eyes that appeared to shine differently depending on her mood. Even the child’s tail, long and slender and tipped with spines, mirrored that of her late progenitor. 

Khadagan kissed her daughter’s nose, just below her scales, right on her warm purple freckles atop her soft hematite soil skin. “Mama is making feast of Tsagaan Sar.” She gave a gentle smile, “In Mama’s homeland this is very important time.” 

She placed the child back on the ground, “You want to help Mama?”

Qatirna looked up at her mother with a broad confused smile and nodded enthusiastically.

“<Will you help me mix this, please?>” Khadagan handed a small wooden bowl to a tiny outstretched clawed grasp. With the bowl in Qatirna’s hands, Khadagan picked her up once more to set her down at a table nearby. She handed over a small wooden spoon then began pouring dry ingredients into the bowl as the little girl mixed with delight.

“<Thank you, my sweet desert rose.>” Khadagan kissed the dark hair on her daughter’s head and beamed at the display in joy and amusement as the two prepared for the feast together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qatirna playfully kneaded the dumpling dough as her mother fussed over the fillings she had simmering in several pots over a single fire. She still required a stool to reach over the counter, and even standing a fulm higher from the ground, she still only came midway up her mother’s arm. 

“Mama, done!” she shouted proudly.

Khadagan looked at the little girl with a bemused smile, coming over to help her child. “<Let Mama show you.>”

Qatirna stared at her mother with a serious expression, nodding her head to indicate her readiness to learn. 

Her mother brought over a dull stone knife, placing it on the counter between them. She showed her daughter how to roll out the dough. "<Like this, Little Flame. Make it like a snake.>" 

Qatirna rolled the dough, more playing than working, but learning all the same. 

"<Please be cautious not to cook the dough.>" Her mother added. 

"<Okay Mama. I careful.>" Qatirna had recently come into her magic and still struggled to not catch her hands on fire when she got excited. “<Mama?>” she paused her rolling to ask, “<Is friends come to Tsagaan Sar?>”

"<I invited everyone we know from Little Ala Mhigo. Including Petra.>" she answered softy with a grin.

The child blushed, burying her embarrassed face melodramatically in her folded arms. Petra was Qatirna’s best friend. She was Qatirna’s first friend. Kind, funny, adventurous. Qatirna also thought she was really pretty, and her mother knew that and found it adorable. 

"<Mamaaa!>" she whined at her mother's teasing. 

Khadagan tousled the little girl's hair before moving to show her how to cut off the pieces of dough and pull them out flat. "<Like this, little one.>" and she cut off a piece of dough for her daughter to practice with as well. 

"<Like this, Mama?>" Qatirna pulled the dough flat, although the shape she made was somewhat laughable. 

Khadagan giggled at the child, "<You're getting it. Now let's practice folding. Watch carefully.>" she neatly took the edges of her own flattened dough and tucked them into the center, twirling the whole thing at the end to create a shape reminiscent of flower petals. 

Qatirna stared in awe before attempting to do as her mother did. She folded everything into the middle, creating an oddly shaped cone. "<What do you think?>" She scooped up the cone dough with both hands before holding it out to her mother for inspection. 

The older Xaela looked at her daughter's practice folds with great scrutiny, her brow furrowed in a serious expression. "<hmm… yes! This is perfect. You keep practicing and you will be Khatun of Tsagaan Sar!>" She beamed brightly at her daughter before booping her nose with a flour covered finger. They both stared at each other for a moment before breaking into laughter. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two red Xaela women weaved expertly through the crowds of the farmer's market. Both dressed in colorful wrapped sarongs. The one in browns and reds looked only just of age. Young and pretty, long flowing onyx hair with red undertones matched her onyx scales sitting atop red clay skin. Her eyes burned bright with a unique violet hue and her full clover lips grinned at the older and taller Xaela adorned with gentle blues. "<I want to try some new herbs and vegetables this year. I have extra coin from my work with Clan Centurio.>"

The Xaela in blue, despite being twice the age of the Xaela in red, was still just as beautiful as her daughter. She wore her silver peppered black hair held back with a scarf. Her own onyx scales protected her deep red skin, even darker than the crimson of her daughter's. 

"<I have given you the list of things I need. Anything after that is entirely up to you, Little Flame.>" She smiled back, her canines notably sharper than Qatirna’s. 

Qatirna shrugged in amusement at her, moving to examine a nearby stand. “<I think we can use some Ala Mhigan spices in the barbecue pork for the buuz this year.> Petra has been showing me some of her family recipes lately.”

“<Hmm..>” Khadagan took her place by her daughter’s side, leaning down to sniff the orange bag of spice Qatirna had her eye on. “<I can see what you mean. This might add a nice flavor... Have you two been discussing marriage?>”

“<Mama! What? No!>”

“<By the time your father was your age he was already wed.>” she said matter-of-factly.

“<I think it is different when it is an arranged marriage to your horse, Mama.>” she responded in a restrained hiss. 

The man tending the stand stared blankly at the two women speaking in the unfamiliar language. “Did you ladies want to purchase any spices?” He asked, indifferent to their squabbles.

“Yes, please! I would like… a small container of that, and a medium container of that one.” Qatirna pointed to the orange powder, then a yellow powder, before she began digging through her satchel for the gil to pay. Her cheeks had turned a substantially darker red than usual.

"<Qatirna! You should show respect for your father's culture!>" Khadagan pestered, now standing behind her daughter, a good 5 or 6 ilms taller.

Qatirna winced at her public scolding. Despite the fact that no one in the market could understand the two, anyone could see the basic theme of their conversation. 

"<I do, Mama.>" Qatirna replied as she turned away from the stand, gently tucking the spices into a side pocket of her satchel. "<I mean. Yes, Mama. I just don't think my relationship with Petra is comparable to Father's relationship to Koko.>" she sighed. "<Does everyone know that I invite Kazagg Chah? He is very important mentor to me and I do not wish for discomfort between guests.>"

"<Yes, my desert rose. I've told the other guests. They know of your friendship with the beast tribes and no one should make a fuss.>" she placed a reassuring hand on her daughter's arm and gave a gentle squeeze. "<We can speak more of Petra at another time.> Now where is pork farmer?"

Khadagan wandered off towards the meats section of the market with Qatirna following close behind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qatirna stirred awake from a restless sleep. Her body felt heavy, like weights had woven their way up and down her arms and legs in the night. With a great deal of effort, she pushed herself up and out of bed. 

For a moment, she allowed herself to forget the empty silence in her home. She moved across her room and down the stairs of her loft, graceful yet absentminded. The only thing keeping her mind connected to this time and place was the feel of the cold hard ground beneath her feet. This morning seemed stiller than most, or perhaps the quiet hit harder today in particular. 

She placed the kettle on the burner, lighting the fire below with a flame conjured in her palm, same as she did most mornings. She closed her eyes, taking a deep strangled breath, before making her way to the ice box to pull out some pork she planned to marinate. She still hadn't decided if she wanted to use the traditional spices her mother taught her as a child or if she wanted to use the spice mixture she'd created with her late mother and ex fiancé. 

While she rummaged through her spice cabinet she began to hum. An old Auri lullaby, taught to her by her mother. Her father sang it to her during their brief time together before his death, or so she'd been told. Sometimes the tune brought her comfort, today it stung her with a sick longing. Despite this, she continued to sing. 

She busied herself, trying to keep her mind free, trying to keep any pesky thoughts of tragedy and loss at bay. The new recipe, she thought, to honor all those we lost.

Her mind was still until she began pouring the spices into a small mixing bowl. A memory trickled to the forefront of her thoughts: her mother asking her toddler self for 'help' mixing dry ingredients. A sad smile spread across her lips. She gripped the counter's edge, claws drumming the tabletop as she attempted to hold off any further thoughts of her past. 

The trickle of that memory pushed past her efforts to repair the dam of hindsight. It crumbled and burst. Memories flooded back as waves of grief crashed over her. Suddenly she was drowning within herself. 

A soft sob escaped her throat. She felt the familiar sting of tears welling in her eyes. Her head spun in a storm of everything that was, everything that could have been, everything she should have done. Teenage arguments with her mother, a first kiss, snacks lovingly prepared and placed near her while she studied, laughing at inside jokes, singing traditional songs in various languages, making a fire on cold nights, soup made for the sick. She crumpled. Falling to the floor like a warrior taking an arrow in the heart. A whimper on the floor of her kitchen became a sob became an agonizing wail. She clawed desperately at the floor, although her hands found no purchase. Even though she was hyperventilating she couldn’t fill her lungs with a full breath of air. 

She had no control here in the tempest. She held fiercely to her sorrow, the only feeling she could cling to for any measure of stability, as she slowly pulled herself tighter, smaller, into herself. 

The sharply whistling kettle cut through the screams of her weeping. She looked up through puffy eyes, glowing a vibrant indigo. She stopped her sobs, coughing at the thick film that coated her throat, before pulling herself back up to remove the kettle from the burner. She laughed at the kettle for pulling her out of hysteria, although the sound choked out as a half chuckle half sob. 

She shook her head, letting out a deep sigh, climbing up the counter to reach the tea on the top shelf. Her mother had been several ilms taller than her, and aside from lalafells, they were the two shortest people she’d ever known. She placed the tea on the counter gingerly before hopping back down. A clay mug sat on a cabinet nearby, she pulled that down as well. It looked like a tankard in her small hands. After pouring the water and leaves she held the steam up to her face, allowing it to soothe her skin, tender from crying.

This would have to be enough. She had no other options than for this to be enough. She breathed in a rough quivered breath before reaching just below where she’d grabbed her mug. Pulling a strong spiced spirit from the bottom shelf, she took a swig several gulps worth. She closed her eyes, allowing the burn to roll through her, numbing some of that pain in her chest.

She could go on. Once again she turned her attention back to the feast she prepared for one. Utterly alone. 

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Cooking For MC (Headcanons)

--- Zen ---

He spent the last decade never having to cook, and instead relying on South Korea’s amazing take-out culture to survive. One only has to pay just a liiiitle bit extra when buying meals from convenience stores, or from specific take-out eateries. 

But now he has a significant other! And he’s already made a big fuss about how he believes he’d ‘make a good husband’, so now it’s time to prove it. How hard can cooking be? 

Unfortunately, Zen quickly realizes that making good meals demands more than throwing rice into the cooker and boiling some sweet potato leaves. Different types of meat from different animals and different cuts needed to be cooked differently, vegetables need to be washed and paired with the right heat and oil, not to mention knowing what spices go with what.

His cooking odyssey starts when the two of you began to get more domestic with each other, and he wanted to surprise you with a home-cooked evening meal rather than going out to eat like the two of you always did up to this point. 

Good thing he started early in the afternoon, because his first attempt was a disaster. The catfish fillets kept flaking and getting stuck to the pan, the rice was way too soggy from being overwatered, and he accidentally seasoned the green beans with pickled plum powder instead of white pepper. 

Googling saved his ass and he instead steamed the fish with ginger and scallions, fried the beans in sesame oil and garlic, and the rice came out fluffy. By the time you came home, you were greeted with a romantic home-cooked dinner for two. (He didn’t know to remove the stems from the green beans, though)

As time goes by, Zen really steps into that supposed ‘husband’ role and learns to cook properly. His meals are almost exclusively healthy options of whole grains and lean proteins, with no excess salt or oil. 

--- Yoosung ---

He can cook! He’s a pretty good one, too. At least, compared to most other students. He doesn’t burn things, or over-salt them. But he never made complicated dishes, mostly due to a lack of time or energy. Still, he did enjoy making the occasional dish of omurice in his dorm. His plating tended to look a bit sloppy, but they always tasted fine.

Once you enter the picture, he finds himself daydreaming about cooking for you, and serving delicious meals over a candlelit home dinner with a sweet dessert to top it off. He imagined being a loving husband wearing an apron, peacefully tossing vegetables in a pan while you came behind him and wrapped your hands around his waist. 

And then he’d turn to his pile of dirty dishes still sitting in the sink for the past four days and realize that he’d have to step up his game if he wanted to bring that fantasy to life. He may have the ability avoid food-poisoning in his dishes, but that’s not good enough for you!

So his renewed interest in life was largely spent re-focusing on his studies (while also spending his spare time with you), and after he finally got his diploma and began getting internships, he moved out of the dorm and into a real, actual apartment with a stove that had more than one burner! And also an oven! 

When he started cooking for the both of you, he began simple; store bought tteokbokki and gochujang, and into which he’d chop scallions, onions, and clams - kinda like the Korean equivalent of boiling dried pasta, and adding your own ingredients to the store-bought jar of marinara sauce. 

He got older and with age came a greater patience for homesteading. His dishes became more complicated, and also better! You always looked forward to the days when he’d cook. And he couldn’t help but brag sometimes about how good of a boyfriend he was, because of his abilities in the kitchen.

--- Jaehee ---

She grew up in a household that almost exclusively dined on home-cooked meals, so it was with great internal shame that she had to resort to take-out when she began working at C&R. Take-out can be filled with preservatives, sugar, and salt, not to mention the depressing image of eating off plastic trays all the time.

Before the two of you began living together, but after beginning plans of opening a cafe, Jaehee began cooking a lot more. She’d experiment with cafe recipes of sandwiches, baked goods, desserts, and artisanal coffees. You were her favorite taste-tester. 

As the cafe managers, you and Jaehee don’t cook everything sold at the cafe, and most of it is too sweet or carb-filled for Jaehee to serve it at home. So she busted out her family’s old notecards (or, like many families, nobody ever wrote down classic Korean dishes on notecards so she had to call her parents to ask how to make sundubu jjigae) to serve to the both of you.

She truly believes in the value of home cooking. It’s so much healthier and wholesome. And being able to cook something for the both of you to sit down and enjoy is so domestic and peaceful. 

You two manage the cafe takes up many days of the week, but usually not the whole day, so there’s time for at least one cooked meal at home every day. Sometimes you cook, but mostly she does. She missed the freedom of this particular creative expression.

Her favorites are replicas of dishes she grew up eating - hand-made dumplings, beef noodle soups, roast dakjjim, seaweed salads. Her mood is just so much better since leaving C&R, and she’s gotta believe that’s partially due to her improved diet. You being in the picture is another big part of it!

--- Jumin ---

Surprisingly, this pampered 1% CEO-in-line can indeed cook some specific dishes. Home-ec was part of his schooling, and he’d retained the lessons he’d learned to this day. During the first few days you stayed in his penthouse, he had made a stack of strawberry pancakes that tasted perfectly fluffy and sweet, almost mathematically calculated to maximize their pancake-ness. 

And technically it was in fact calculated, since that’s how Jumin approaches cooking. Measurements are precise and exact, temperatures to the perfectly right point. Which is also why Jumin knows how to cook, like, four different dishes and nothing else. He was more interested in treating you to his private chef’s gourmet meals, and only wanted to cook when he thought a personal touch would be appreciated.

Pancakes were one of the recipes he learned in junior-high home economics. The other three were; beef stroganoff, frosted cinnamon rolls, and tteokguk. He can cook them to exact perfection ... which is, they don’t taste gourmet nor mind-blowingly fantastic, but instead ‘perfect’, with perfect temperature and perfect seasonings. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’s aware that he can’t cook something that has anything particular to offer. He’s always struggled with being creative, and his cooking is no different. It’s hard for him to deviate from established tried-and-true recipes. It’s even harder for him to tackle new ones.

Living with Jumin means little opportunity for him to cook. Or for you to cook, for that matter. If Jumin’s chef isn’t booked for the day, chances are the two of you are eating at some five-star restaurant. His penthouse does have a very fancy and equipped kitchen (is that a soda gun??) so one day you decided to encourage Jumin to exercise his creative skills a bit more.

With your help, he modified his pancake recipe for the waffle maker, and customized a fruit syrup using his gut feelings and not a written recipe. It came out fantastically and lovingly delicious. He was so happy to have created something special for once, and named the dish after you.

--- Saeyoung/707 ---

He never had any reason to cook before he met you. He lived off of a trash diet that only the nastiest of gamer geeks would stoop to. But when his life turned around and you entered the picture, he realized that he needed to clean up his act sooner or later.

You’ll almost certainly cook more than he ever will, but he’ll step up to the plate once and a while. “Seven, work today was brutal and I’ll be coming home late. Can you cook up something for the both of us?” 

“Ah, never fear! I’ll make sure you’ll be fed something nourishing and delicious. Trust in your god 707!”

By ‘nourishing and delicious’ he meant pulling out a box of buchimgae mix, and frying it with sliced zucchini and onions before serving it with dipping sauce. He had to cheat and quickly buy a box of barbecue chicken wings to go with it. 

It’s a simple and quick meal, but it tastes perfectly decent. And simple dishes are as far as he’s willing to go, ‘cause he never wants to make something gross and force you to eat it out of gratitude. 

He has a list of easy recipes stored in his brain in case he’s assigned to cooking duty - ham fried rice, oven-roasted chicken legs, Japanese curry, anything that has less than five steps to complete. And he pays little attention to things like sugar and salt levels, so its no concern of his if a meal is less ‘healthy’ than another.

If you’re a cooker, he ends up absentmindedly copying your recipes and methods for when you need him to make meals, and he’s pretty good at backwards-engineering a dish to figure out how to make it himself.

In the beginning, he kept making weird noob mistakes in his cooking, like accidentally leaving the small stickers on the ginger root he’s boiling in the broth, and not knowing you should peel daikon before stewing it.

But he’s perfectly satisfied with the fact that he eventually settles into a position of ‘decent emergency housecook’. But he’ll always prefer to eat what you prepare for him UwU

--- Saeran --- 

Back during Mint Eye, Ray had tried his best to make the most beautiful and delicious meals for you. And he mostly succeeded, carefully following recipes for marinated apricot pork, butternut squash ravioli, and lemongrass scallops the best he could. 

It was a steep learning curve. He hadn’t really cooked before this point, so for your sake he decided to run before he knew how to walk. But he’s a smart dude, so his dishes always turned out pretty okay at the very least. He was so happy seeing you enjoy them.

So when Saeran settled in with you, he began cooking again. He found it therapeutic after a day spent hacking. Very quickly he started getting into even more complicated dishes just for fun; roast duck, elk medallions, fluffy angel food cake from scratch. Sometimes things failed, but mostly his dinners were something to look forward to.

He doesn’t cook a whole lot, and in the beginning he even skipped the meals you’d prepare for the both of them, because he’s depressed and sickly and it’s hard to summon up the appetite for regular breakfast and lunch. And even afterwards, he keeps odd hours which meant dinnertime might overlap with his work, leaving the job to you.

But the times where the two of you can actually sit down to a meal he’s made are some of the most peaceful and happiest moments of the day. He still loves caring for you, and creating food you truly enjoy is a particular source of love for him.

Surprisingly, he’s a lot less talented when it comes to baking. His cookies come out mealy and stiff, his cakes dense and eggy. Something about dedicating so much of the process to the oven just messes up his ability in the kitchen. Even though his stovetop cooking always turn out pretty freaking amazing, he can’t be trusted with desserts.

And unfortunately, he always hates cleaning up afterwards. It’s a pet peeve of his. Why can’t dishes ever wash themselves? He and his brother purchase like, two different dishwashers, and overclock them as well, so he can avoid washing dishes as much as he can.

--- Jihyun ---

A trustworthy cook, who loves to replicate recipes he’s tasted from abroad. But he can’t backwards engineer dishes like Saeyoung can, he has to rely on a recipe for most of the cooking process.

And it can be somewhat a struggle to find the proper ingredients for dishes he wants to make, such as fresh green cardamon for Tibetan lentil soup, or anchovy syrup for authentic Italian pizza. When you began living with Jihyun, the kitchen slowly became packed with foreign spices and ingredients. “Jihyun, what the heck is this thing I found in the freezer??” “It’s a pack of frozen chorizo I’m planning to make into a mash, put it back before it defrosts!”

Grocery shopping involves 40% of buying the essentials, and 60% of Jihyun walking up and down the isles, hunting for rare and obscure ingredients. If he finds something, he likes to excitedly drag you over and show off the hidden package of blue stilton cheese he managed to find, and talk about his memories of visiting the United Kingdom, and learning about how historical and special this cheese is.

Life as an established photographer means his work schedule is pretty irregular. Sometimes, he has huge stretches of days where he has nothing to do, and sometimes he’s got entire weeks in advance where his professional skills have been hired. Not to mention his own schedule involving traveling the world and finding new subjects to photograph. So the times when he can cook for the both of you are kinda unpredictable.

When he does, he always insists on cooking from a culture different from any recent meals you two have had. If it was American potato salad yesterday, its Moroccan tangia tonight. If yesterday’s lunch date was spent in a traditional Japanese cafe, then today’s home-cooked lunch is gonna be Swedish potato pancakes.

And of course, he takes pictures of his especially successful dishes, to put on his personal instagram. If he can get your hand, or other subtle pose in the shot, it makes him 300% happier.