dry piece

Ssalbulre

That time of year again...

Originally posted by dancing-at-the-funeralparty

Originally posted by altpress

Originally posted by puckish-saint

Originally posted by corazan

Originally posted by kibstar

Originally posted by xxxmahteddykiss

Originally posted by kibstar

Originally posted by rapidkirby3k

Originally posted by jimmyfungus

Originally posted by whyx3

CP bachelor AU: part 5

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

***

Damen is as good as his word. He behaves. He’s friendly and noble and straightforward and, somehow, manages to make it seem natural that he should be fond of so many people at once. He speaks earnestly into the camera about the good points of every single suitor, and never oversells it. He doesn’t show a marked preference for Erasmus over the others. Laurent barely has to edit Damen’s scenes for narrative tension at all.

By the time something goes wrong, Laurent has been bracing himself for almost two weeks for something to go wrong, because luck never lasts in television.

The twenty suitors have been winnowed down to twelve. They’ve decamped for a couple of days to a tiny private beach north of the city, the owner of which owes Laurent a favour, and the shooting schedule is full of bikinis, beach volleyball, romantic walks, and hopefully fewer jellyfish-sting disasters than last year, ie. none.

To kick things off, they have a bonfire party. Laurent has offered three hundred dollars to any producer who gets a suitor to suggest skinny-dipping; it was going to be two hundred, but the temperature’s dropped unseasonably low, and the wind sweeping in off the sea has a bite to it. 

Laurent is watching Damen have a conversation about superheroes with a gaggle of suitors–all of them gamely clutching drinks and none of them wanting to leave in case they end up missing a chance for Alone Time–when Orlant comes to tell him that all of the previous day’s footage has vanished.

Vanished?” Laurent says.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Proud kitty mom here to give everyone a tip: if you can get pieces of dry lamb lung (they sell if for dogs typically), cut them small, and stick in it a bowl/cup of water. Heat it to absorb some water. When it's squishy and cool, feed it to your cats. The extra water will prevent urinary crystals and my boy seems to think the food is alive. He will STALK AND POUNCE AND SWAT LIKE THE MAJESTIC HUNTER HE IS

😻 lov to chomp new fuds

When We Collide

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: PG-All

Request: Yes

Words: 4.000+

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

”So what you’re saying is that I woke up this morning expecting everything to be butterflies and rainbows, called my chauffeur to pick me up and wasted gas all the way over to my office just because you couldn’t satisfy my request?”

Luke’s tone rose by each word that left past his pink lips, his eyebrows furrowing and his marker rolling between his fingers.

Keep reading

RWBY Vol. 4 Ch. 12

How many times is this show going to make me cry? Like, I’m not comfortable with this at all.

• It’s about to go down, guys.

• This Nuckelavee for real reminds me of that thing from CTCD and I just want it dead. Please. (“Return the slab”)

•Ren’s semblance is awesome.

•Qrow/Jaune wtf did that look even mean?

•Oh crap, their asses are getting handed to them on platinum platters.

•GO CROCEA MORS

•Stop screeching, man. It’s not that serious.

•Ren’s rage scares me. Like, honestly scares me. He, as I’ve noticed, gets a kind of one track mind when he’s angry and doesn’t think clearly so he starts getting a little reckless. And that’s so unlike him.

•NORA NO

•My baby did that self sacrifice for her man ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

•Ren low key peeped and Nora low key liked it. Don’t lie. We all saw that smirk.

•That thing did not just throw her like a ragdoll

•Oh, shit. He’s losing it again. Don’t touch his girl or he goes nuts.

•Yeah, Ren. Chill. You’re getting more wounds than necessary.

•Ren, please take a moment to calm yourself and think rationally

•Damn, I felt that slap.

•I love Nora’s progression from when she was a child. She was so scared and dull. Now, she’s still scared, but she’s also so vibrant and more confident. Proof that things 100% can get better.

• On another note, I think Ren’s kind of finally seeing her as a young adult that doesn’t necessarily need saving. I think he still saw her as that scared, defenseless kid from years ago. Like, he needed to protect her. I think now he sees that she can protect him too if they work together. But I’m pretty sure he knew that the whole time. I don’t know. These thoughts are jumbled.

•Papa Ren’s knife ❤

•Her hand ❤

•Team RNJR strategy time!!!!!!!!!

•I love how teamwork skills have progressed through the series. Like, Jaune still needs help and Ren supported him because he knows his leader still has a long way to go.

•Nora, wtf?

•YES! A GLIMPSE OF NORA’S HAPPIER SELF. I’VE MISSED HER.

•Ren’s getting serious. Back up guys. Give him some room

•Ren: Lol, did you think that pterodactyl screech would scare me?

•YES, REN. KILL THE BEAST. That inner monologue gave me a reason to be at peace

•Speaking of, I’m glad that Ren can set him mind at ease.

•Don’t ask why, but I thought Qrow disappeared because he would do some backwards shit like that.

•Where’d these airships come from?????? Who called you????? Who has service out here????

•Oh, makes sense.

•Baby Qrow is gonna live, guys

•Mistral really is beautiful (Lol, I don’t remember who posted it and I’m going to find out when I’m done here, but they’d said that if Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha stayed, and Jaune had been from Anima and stayed, they’d all be at Haven. So what made them all go to Beacon (how did Renora even get there?) Just something to think about. I promise to cite as soon as I’m done if I can find the post again 😅) Update: the user is Sunder-the-gold

•IT’S CANON. MY BABIES ARE CANON. They didn’t need a kiss to be canon and I just love that. Boop is playing. This is perfect. I hope Jaune starts teasing them in V5. I think this is good way to start making up for Pyrrha’s death. Key word: start. You’re not done until she’s back in the flesh.

•Oh… Rubes… she’s left already… babes, honey

•Weiss is finally getting out of here!!!!!!

•Baby Blake!!!! (F the new WF)

•Yang upgrade afffffffff

•Poor Tai. Both of his babies are gone again.

•Zwei is life.

•THE PICTURE OF TEAM RWBY

•Jaune, baby it’s gonna be okay. I promise. (They’re playing Cold. I’m officially done.)

•Aw, it’s a little memorial now with Papa Ren’s knife.

•Team JNR cuddle and mourn time.

•(I’m pretty sure Nora and Ren share a bed, if I’m not mistaken…)

•WEISS IS FREE!

•Old WF for life!!!!! I love the look they share

•Is that Menagerie???? Sure looks like it kind of. SHE’S GOING FOR BLAKE

•I’m still confused about Oscar. I want to learn more

•Ilia, WF spies, fuck you

•Cinder, fuck you, too. (I still think we should her for human transmutation so we can bring back Pyrrha)

•Don’t say lost, Ruby. Please.

•Ruby is so strong. I love her to pieces ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

•Qrow’s dry humor is great

•Oh, shit. She’s going for Ruby and not Blake… great! (Lol, I think she’ll be the one to tease Renora instead ;3333)

•This letter drove me to tears

•Oh, hell no

GUYS! THE MUSIC! THE ACTING! THE DEVELOPMENT! THE PLOT! THE ANIMATION! I’M DEAD!

Now, we have to wait for the soundtrack and V5 in Fall… I can’t wait that long. Please. Please no.

Betty Cooper’s Day Off

[Jughead] took off his shoes, like always. He trudged up the stairs, and when he reached Betty’s bedroom doorway, the door was wide open.

And what had he seen first? Betty’s ass.

Not her entire, bare ass, mind you. It was partly covered.

Her head was pointed away from the door, towards her TV, propped up in her hand. She was staring fixatedly on whatever was on the screen. And the volume was up loud.

Her tiny tshirt - was it a tshirt? - was riding up her stomach and her legs were bare. Her underwear was showing just the edges of her butt, but it was facing him, greeting him in the doorway.

He had to stop looking at it, because it was giving him ideas.

So he cleared his throat.


Read it on A03 or on Fanfiction.net or below. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

hello this is ur daily bird ask saying that i love you and here is your daily bird smorch *smorches u* thank u for having me and remember to hydrate

i love u!!! i am very hydrated bc i just spent like 2 hours lying on my bathtub trying to help my snake shed and i got soaked

When We Collide (Part 2)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: PG-All

Parts: 1

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

With a shaky laugh from the many glasses of wine after one of the co-workers next to Luke encouraged him to stand up, he stabilized his long legs and leaned his arm on top of his chair.

“I’d like to make a small toast for all as we’re all gathered here tonight.” He clicked the silverware fork against his glass of wine, waiting for everyone to quiet down from the small talks around the many tables and took a deep breath from his dizziness.

“I just want to say a huge thank you to every single one of you for showing up tonight for my-,”

He was interrupted quickly by the sound of the door opening to the banqueting room, everyone’s attention drawn towards you who almost timidly walked inside. It wasn’t supposed to be an entrance like this, you had at least expected everyone would be too busy with eating whatever was served for tonight.

Keep reading

To Find

|To Fall| |To Be Afraid| |To Be In| |To Rediscover| |To Yearn|

Member: Jin (ft. Yoongi) 

Genre: Angst 

Word Count: 5.2k 

Summary: Love. It’s a strange thing. It can either make you the happiest person in the world or the most miserable. You don’t know when it comes or when it goes. Sometimes it’s not returned and sometimes it is. We don’t know how to deal with it, but we still yearn for it.

A/N: I don’t really know what to say about this one. It’s…different :o I will warn you though, I got extremely sad while writing it. I hope you enjoy Xx 

Originally posted by boguming

Love. What exactly is it? According to the dictionary, it is the intense feeling of deep attraction. To you, that definition is not enough. It’s too vague, too open ended. You could be extremely attracted to a celebrity, but that doesn’t mean you love them. What’s so special about love that your society has given all of you a time limit to find “the one?”

Every morning a system that’s built into your house will alert you, telling you how many more days you have to find your love. The clock will stop the moment that you realize that you truly love the person. If not, it keeps going. “To find” is both physically and emotionally as well.

The consequences if you don’t succeed in that time frame? It’s not death, but it’s comparable. They will take you away from society to go through series of treatments and therapies to try to find the “problem” as to why you couldn’t find your true love. It’s brutal. You’ve seen it happen to your neighbour. The clock just struck 7 PM and it was the last day for him. He still didn’t find the one and then people in grey suits approached his front door and quarantined his house. They drugged him and hooked him up to a machine to scan his brain and find the issue.

Why is this person not capable of loving?

Where did the hardwiring go wrong?

Is there a defect?

Everyone should be able to love.

It’s a cruel system and you never understood it. Why should a machine dictate who I love? Why should a system created by some sick person dictate when I should or shouldn’t feel love?

Keep reading

Valentine’s Day 2k17

First up we have king virgin boy with his fucking red crayon eating alone wishing his non existent followers a happy Valentine’s Day.  Look at the shadow from his phone – it’s like the lunar eclipse of loneliness.


UGHH kooky ironic couples who think they’re so fucking top shit and carefree because they act like children. Oh how free spirited and young at heart you are, what are you going to do next, snuggle up and watch The Lion King [edit: great film] The Little Mermaid and give him a shitty handjob like you’re 15 again and it’s cheap Tuesday’s at the cinema?  Stop running away from the horrible realities of adult life, this charade is a FUCKING LIE your innocence is GONE it’s NEVER EVER coming back


Everyone, save this picture on your phone and text it to your partner next time you fuck up and they think you’re just the shittest cunt because this’ll remind em how bad it actually gets. Just imagine the sickly saccharine-varnish notes of luke warm Omni brand sparkling drinking wine coagulating in your mouth with all that sour cream, supermarket cheese and taco sludge; like a big pissy Sao.  I hate those fucking Old El Paso tacos, they always fucking break in the middle just like the heart of whoever had to deal with this Milhouse’s Dad’s Racing Car Bed bullshit. 


Chicken and budget wine, look this is totally fine.  His wife wanted chicken and she got herself some fucking chicken - nice work my man. 

The problem with Valentine’s Day is guys try to step too far out of their zone and fumble through some fucking mess of a dining experience that is just totally beyond their capabilities. She’ll tell you it’s cute, you and your embarrassing single rose, but for reals - she’ll be looking for an exit from your training wheel bullshit.  Fumbling over the pronunciation of all the menu items like a fucking DICKHEAD ordering the wrong wine; just making a fool of yourself. There’s been 30-40 years of neo-capitalism and buddy I hate to say it but you didn’t quite make it up the stream - there’s no shame in that so just stick to your more racist, garlic bread heavy venues like Hogs Breath Cafe or middle class shitholes like Wagamama


Now we’re talking - I truly want to meet the fucking MONSTER who thinks they could get away with pulling this cake out as a Valentines gift. Like it would take a truly special breed of horrible person to even contemplate it.  I love how Woolworth’s don’t even fucking care anymore as well, they just underpay some school kid to draw terrifying hearts on these fucking disgusting cake flavoured sweetened flour products and dump them in a box for emotionally vacant animals to give to people they don’t give a shit about.


Oh look, the shittest two people on earth have found each other!  Not only has he found someone who loves him enough to place a heart shaped piece of dry, semi-toasted bread under two other dry pieces of semi-toasted bread, she has found someone who is totally fucking okay with the the absolute mediocrity of this totally vacant romantic gesture.  No effort, no expectations, just G rated bliss all the way to the grave - just imagine the sex; they’ll probably make a child without even penetrating.


Okay we have the new King and Queen of #ausromance here; some fucking Scott and Charlene level relationship goals are being kicked right here.  A “Candle Lit Milo” have you ever heard a better phrase?  This is fantastic!  I bet they just rooted like dingos after this  (whoever made this contact me I’ll send you a free shirt)


Ahhh, the sweet scent of dying alone, cradling a tear soaked pillow in your fucking filthy unwashed sheets wishing you’d just tried a little harder, put in the extra effort.  Hey, at least she’s happier now than you could even possibly have hoped to make her. You’re a good guy for staying out of her a life, a top bloke. Go on, pour yourself another tea cup of cask wine, you’ll be asleep soon enough, there there, the agony of tomorrow morning is but a terrifying three hour sleep away.  

<3 Happy Valentines! <3

I never post full body pictures because it’s really disappointing I’m short and have thick thighs and a big tummy so I’m like a walking little square and who wants to really praise or see that? No one that’s why I’m invisible and blend in to the walls

unconditional - one (h.e.s)

Originally posted by toasttostyles

a/n: hello darlings. none of you know me too well yet. i’m ceridwen and i like vampires and harry. as such, this au was born, so if you’re a fan of the fantastical as well as a whole bunch of drama, this story will be right up your alley.

i would like to give you more of a taste of what this will entail, but i would also like it to speak for itself. i will leave you with a brief summary of this first part, and leave you to your own conclusions. <3 happy reading, and i hope you enjoy.

summary: your night out could have ended badly. thanks to a concerned stranger, it doesn’t. you end up with more questions than answers.


You’re not sure when this nightclub went from thrilling to nauseating.

Logic would dictate that it was about three cocktails and several shots in, when everything became just a tad blurry and your head began to spin, but logic is not on your drunken mind’s side. The blaring music and flashing lights prevent you from focusing for long enough to think – it takes at least a minute or two for you to finally fixate on the way to the exit, squirming past masses of gyrating bodies. You need to get out. The roiling of your stomach cannot be ignored, so the friend you arrived with is forgotten in the panic to leave before you potentially vomit all over the dancefloor. You’re going to regret this whole thing tomorrow. You already regret it, in fact, it’s caught up with you already. This was a horrendous idea.

The stuffy heat of the club gives way to fresh evening air, and you gulp it down frantically. So much better. Being exposed to the elements does have the unfortunate side effect of showing you how drunk you really are, though, which leaves you pressing your palms to the rough stone wall and staring down at the cracks in the pavement. Everything is slightly distorted. You smile and bop your head when you catch the rhythm to a familiar song thudding from inside, but grow to regret the jarring action immediately. God. If you’re going to puke, why can’t you just puke already? This debilitating sickly feeling is becoming unbearable.

Maybe you should head home. Yes. It seems like a good idea. It’s only a few streets away, you reason with yourself, and what are the odds of being followed? You hadn’t heard of any incidents like that in forever. It’d be fine. You could text your friend when you got in to tell her you were in the flat, and you could change out of this ridiculously uncomfortable dress and into some comfy pyjamas. Never has putting yourself to bed sounded so appealing.

Turns out the odds aren’t in your favour.

Keep reading

It is better to have nothing but a dry piece of bread to eat in peace than a whole house full of food with everyone arguing.
—  Proverbs 17:1
7

I’m filipino, but I realize I never make filipino food. Truthfully, I don’t know much about the cuisine especially because my parents didn’t cook much while I was growing up. I also don’t eat it much because the cuisine typically has a lot of meat, which I gave up over a year ago. I hope to make some vegan/vegetarian versions of my favorite dishes in the future! 

I was craving something sweet and crunchy, and remembered one of my childhood favorites, turon! It’s fairly easy to make. :) and you can make them in big batches, to enjoy over a long period of time!

You will need:

  • Plantain bananas - I bought mine at 99 Ranch, and they were labeled ‘Burro Bananas’. It’s very important that you don’t use regular bananas!
  • A package of lumpia wrappers. Mine came in a pack of 25 sheets. Depending on how many bananas you use and how thin you slice the pieces, you may need two packages. They come frozen, so make sure to thaw them. Some people recommend putting a damp paper towel on top of them to make sure they don’t dry out.
  • Jackfruit pieces - I know you can buy them frozen, but I’ve always bought them in cans.
  • Brown sugar in a shallow dish, as needed. 

  • A small bowl of water, for sealing the turon.

Directions

  • Open the plantains. It’s harder to peel them like regular bananas, so I use a knife to slice the peel vertically and open them up that way. Cut the banana in half horizontally, then slice each half into thirds. You may want to cut them even more, depending on how big you want the turon to be.

  • If the jackfruit isn’t in strips when you get it, tear the jackfruit into small strips.

  • Now you’re ready to start making them! Take a banana piece and coat it with brown sugar. Place it on a lumpia wrapper, perpendicular to one  corner. Place a few pieces of jackfruit on top of the banana. Then, begin rolling the banana in the wrapper. This is optional, but I use water to seal the end of the wrapper to the roll.

  • Repeat :) until you’re all done. 

  • If you’re not ready to cook them all, place them in ziplock bags or an airtight container and place them in the freezer. You don’t need to thaw them before frying.

  • If you are ready to cook them, or at least some of them, :) then pour about half an inch of cooking oil in a saucepan, and place over low-medium heat. You’ll need to play around with this to make sure that the turon doesn’t cook too fast. If the brown sugar leaks through the wrapper, there’s a chance it will burn on the outside as well. I had to figure this out through trial and error and ended up with some burnt ones, but they were still nice on the inside. 

Enjoy! :)

About Time

Fandom: The Maze Runner
Pairing: Minho x Female!Reader
Rating: T
Warnings: intense levels of sass and sarcasm, plus some slightly touchy-feely kissing
Word Count: 3,388
Summary: Requested by anon: sup matey can I request a Minho tmr imagine where you and him have a very teasing and sarcastic friendship, but everyone knows but the both of you that you like each other?? thx xx
A/N: Wow, this ended up being a lot longer than I expected it to be…This is my first imagine, and therefore my first Minho imagine, so be gentle… I’m not too good with writing sass and sarcasm, but I’ll give it my best shot!  Also, I’m taking some creative liberties timeline-wise, so I hope you don’t mind.  Without further ado, here we go!

Gasping for breath, you sprint the last few meters out of the maze and into the Glade, following right on Minho’s heels as the two of you slow your pace.  Your lungs are burning, your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like you could collapse at any second.

“Nice running, greenie,” comes Minho’s voice once the two of you come to a stop.  You can’t see his face from your slumped position with your hands on your knees, but you can hear the klunk-eating grin in his voice.  Even though you are far from being the newest Glader, he still calls you greenie, like some sort of nickname for still being the newest addition to the Runners.

As the maze doors begin to rumble closed, you lift your head to return his grin with a smirk of your own.  “You weren’t too bad yourself, shuckface,” you reply, your words slightly interrupted by quick gasps of air.  “You’ll be eating my dust if you keep slacking, though,” you add, straightening up, feeling a trickle of strength come back to you after a full day of running through the maze.

“Sure, and maybe Newt’ll sprout wings, and Gally will profess his undying love for you,” Minho replies, crossing his arms over his chest and stroking his chin in mock thoughtfulness.

“Shut up!” you reply through a laugh, giving him a playful shove.


“Only if you do!” He takes off at a light jog towards the map room, gesturing for you to follow.  “Come on, let’s get the maps done so we can go eat.”

You nod, keeping pace with him.  After a moment, you shove your hands into his shoulder, pushing him to the side as you take off at a sprint with what little energy you have left.  You shoot a glance over your shoulder to see him scrambling to gain his footing, an expression of surprise mingled with competitive determination covering his face.  His eyes spark with a glint of mischief as he gets some traction.

“Y/n!  You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Only if you can catch me!” you shout, turning your face forward as you make a mad dash for the Map Room.  You can hear his footsteps pounding behind you, every step he takes closing the gap between you.  Arms pumping, hair flying, lungs burning, you stretch your strides as far as you can, hoping to reach the Map Room before he overtakes you.  You risk one last glance over your shoulder, pride gleaming in your eyes before you feel him ram into you, his arms bear-hugging around your middle as he tackles you to the ground.

What little breath you had is forced from your lungs as you hit the ground with an “oomph,” and your bare arms scuff along the earth.  Despite the burning in your lungs and the slight sting of the scrapes on your arm, you feel a grin slide across your features as Minho pushes himself up, his frame lingering over yours as he grins back at you.  “Well, I caught you,” he exhales, clearly as out of breath as you are, as his chest heaves with each breath.

“And?” you manage to say, raising a brow.

Minho blinks once. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Alright, alright, come on you lovebirds,” comes Thomas’ voice.  You look past Minho’s face to see Thomas rolling his eyes as he prods, “We’ve got mazes to map, let’s go.”

Minho pushes up and stands upright before offering you a hand.  You grab it, pulling yourself to your feet and strangely aware of the strength in his grip, but quickly release it, feeling self-conscious after Thomas’ comment.  “I guess we’ll have to discuss my payment options later?” you tease, ducking into the Map Room after Minho.

Minho lets out a chuckle as he grabs a sheet of paper and a pencil.  “I guess so,” he replies, jabbing you in the ribs with the eraser, drawing a soft “hey!” from you.  “C’mon,” he says, growing serious.  “We need to get this down while it’s fresh on our minds.”

You nod, propping yourself on your elbows and pushing your hair behind your ears to watch as he sketched out the maze you ran today.  Every once in a while, you offer a correction or a detail he had forgotten.  Occasionally, you find your eyes glancing up to look at Minho’s face, which was pinched in deep thought.  A soft smile tugs at your lips as you notice the way he sticks out his tongue when he concentrates.  You made a mental note to try and find a way to tease him about it later.

Once everyone had gotten their maps down, the Runners file out of the Map Room and plod towards the Homestead, where the scents of Frypan’s cooking waft through the air.  Taking a deep breath, a tired smile spreads across your face as you catch a whiff of dinner.  “I don’t know about you guys, but I feel like I could eat a whole cow,” you say, your stomach grumbling as if to second the statement.  The Runners nod their agreement; a few that were close enough to hear your stomach let out soft chuckles.

“I’m sure Fry’s got something special whipped up, what with the new Greenie coming this morning,” Minho said, throwing an arm around your shoulders.  It was something he’d done countless times before, but after what Thomas said earlier, you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you become hyper-aware of how close together you two were walking.

“Anyone catch his name yet?” you ask, trying to keep your mind occupied elsewhere.

The only answer you receive is shaking heads.  “We’ll find out eventually,” Thomas said.  “Newt probably knows.  I think Alby had him give the tour.”

The group of Runners continue in silence until they reach the Homestead, where Frypan gives each of them a bowl of tonight’s dinner: some seared cut of meat chopped up and stewed with some vegetables from the gardens along with a dry piece of bread.  It smells amazing, and the fact that you’re practically starving only adds to the fact.  You, Minho, and Thomas all take your usual seats, saving an empty chair for Newt, who arrives soon afterwards.

“So how’s the Greenie?” you ask around a mouthful of stew as Newt takes his seat.

“I heard she got her shucking butt tackled to the ground today,” Minho said with a mischievous grin.  Rolling your eyes, you kick him under the table.  “Ow!” he yelps, reaching down to rub his shin as you stick your tongue out at him.

Newt and Thomas exchange a knowing glance, but ignore Minho’s comment.  Newt answers your question with a shrug, “He’s doing as well as you’d expect.  Looks to be about twelve, says his name is Chuck.  I figure he’ll make a good slopper.  Not too much to shuck up there.”  His eyes glance towards a scared-looking young boy searching for a place to sit.

You nod, spooning up another mouthful of stew.  “He’ll settle in soon,” you say, a twinge of sympathy showing on your face.  You remember how hard it was, coming up in the Box not knowing where you were or anything about yourself but your name.  Of course, your experience was unique in that you were the only girl to have ever come up in the Box.  It was certainly an experience, but somehow Minho made it better.  His devil-may-care attitude set you at ease and his humor took your mind off of the dismal situation.  You became fast friends, and quickly bonded as you proved yourself to be a capable Runner.

Your eyes flicker up to Minho’s face, only to be met with a quick glance from him as well.  As the light fades, you see something there you haven’t seen before.  Maybe it’s just the bonfire Gally’s building, or the fatigue from the day, but as he quickly turns his gaze back down to his stew, the look in his eyes is somehow different.  You’re not sure what kind of different, but you intend to find out.

Sitting back in your chair, you pick at the slice of bread, popping small pieces into your mouth.  “So, about that whole ‘you’re gonna pay for that!’ thing,” you say, your voice mocking Minho’s tone, “what’re we talking?  Your laundry for a week?  My share of dessert for a month?  What’d you have in mind?”

Minho copies your position, sitting back in his chair as well and lacing his fingers behind his neck, silent for a moment as he gazes at you.  You feel a shiver run up your spine, but you do your best to hide it.  What is going on in that mind of his?  After a moment longer, he finally replies, “You have to spend all day with me tomorrow.”

You let out a chuckle and give a slight shake of your head.  “I spend all day with you every day, shuckface,” you reply, leaning forward and propping your elbows on the table.

“Not in the maze, Greenie,” he answers, his tone a confusing mixture of seriousness and mischief.  “Just here, in the Glade.  I’ll get some of the other Runners to cover our section tomorrow.  We’re due for a break.”

Your brows pinch together, trying to figure out what he’s playing at, but you come up short.  Out of the corner of your eye, you see Thomas and Newt share another glance, klunk-eating grins spreading over their faces.  After a short silent moment, you agree.  “Alright, fine,” you reply slowly.  “Better than dealing with your disgusting laundry for a week.”

You watch as a grin spreads across Minho’s face and he lets his hands return to his sides.  He gives a light shrug and replies, “I’m a guy, what can I say?”
“That you’re tired of smelling like the pigs at the Bloodhouse, that’s what,” you reply with a smirk before finishing off the rest of your dinner.  “I swear, all you boys seriously need to shower more often.”

“We can’t exactly do that if you’re hogging the showers like you do all the time.  That is, unless you don’t mind the thought of one of us seeing you naked,” he quips, his eyes narrowed and lips pulled into an impish smirk.

You roll your eyes as you get up from the table, grabbing your dishes to take back to Frypan.  “You wish,” is your weak comeback.  You feel a blush creeping onto your face as you clear your throat to ask if Thomas and Newt are done with their dishes, deliberately ignoring Minho just to push his buttons.  They let you clear their bowls as you feel a mock glare burn into the side of your face.

“What about mine?” Minho asks, his tone pouty.

“I might hog the sink and yours won’t get cleaned,” you answer, glad you came back with that one.  You meet his glare with one of your own and hold it for as long as you can while Newt and Thomas ask Minho if he needs to go talk to Clint about his burn.  But soon, you break and roll your eyes, a grin pulling at the corners of your lips.

You turn and head for the Homestead, the sound of Minho getting up and grabbing his bowl reaching your ears.  As he follows you, you overhear Newt telling Thomas, “They’re bloody mad for each other.”  Minho doesn’t appear to have heard, but as he slings his arm around your shoulders, he notices the blush coloring your cheeks.  “You need to work on your comebacks if you don’t want to get embarrassed like that again,” he teases.

“Yeah, maybe you can give me some pointers during our date tomorrow,” you tell him as you hand Frypan your dishes.

Frypan’s eyes grow wide, and a knowing smile pulls at his features.  “’Bout time!” he mutters to himself, taking the dishes and heading for the sink without another word.

Minho freezes, his frame rigid beside yours, and for once, he is at a loss for words.  His mouth just gapes as he searches for words or some appropriate response.  “What was that?” he finally manages, rubbing the back of his neck.

You look at him and blink.  “A joke,” you say with a giggle, giving his chest a slight shove.  “Get over yourself.”  Despite your bravado, you can still feel yourself blushing furiously.  ‘Bout time?  What was that supposed to mean?  Did everyone in the Glade know something you didn’t?  “Why don’t you go on back to the fire?” you suggest, trying to change the subject as you slip out from under his arm.  “I’ll come join you guys in a bit.”

“What, is y/n too good to watch Gally’s fights or something?” Minho asks, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk.  “Or are you just gonna go hog the showers again?”

You sigh in mock exasperation, rolling your eyes as you answer, “Yes, and yes.  I don’t exactly enjoy watching someone get the klunk beat out of them, and if I wait too long, I won’t have the showers to myself and you guys’ll start complaining.”

Minho gives a shrug and lets his arms fall back to his sides.  “Suit yourself.  I’ll save you a spot by the fire, but I can’t promise I’ll keep it for long.  Might give it to the Greenie.”

“Yeah, and Newt’ll sprout wings, and Gally will profess his undying love to me,” you say, repeating your running joke.  While Gally didn’t hate you, he certainly didn’t like you very much.  But after you said it this time, Minho didn’t exactly laugh like he usually did.

You are barely able to catch Minho’s almost inaudible reply, “He might have to get in line.”

This leaves you at a loss for words, and you take a step backwards, trying to compose yourself.  “Well, I- I’m just gonna… I’m just gonna get a shower now,” you stammer, gesturing with your thumb over your shoulder.  Without another word or waiting for Minho to respond, you hurry into the Homestead to grab up a fresh set of clothes before jogging towards the showers near the Gardens.

As you quickly shower off, your mind is consumed with thoughts of Minho.  Does he have feelings for you beyond the friendship you two share?  Do you have feelings for him?  You’re able to be certain that you have feelings for him, but you can’t quite hammer down what they are.  Finally, a clear thought pops into your mind: there’s only one way to find out.

You dry off and quickly slip into your clean clothes before hurrying back to the bonfire, where you see Minho sitting with his back against a log, a bright laugh coming from his open mouth.  He sees you and gestures for you to come sit next to him, his smile sending waves of warmth through you.  You walk up to him and squat down beside him, your voice barely above a whisper as you tell him, “Hey, I need to talk to you.”

“So talk,” he replies, a smirk on his face.

You bite your lip in hesitation before continuing, “In private?”

His smirk is replaced with a confused expression as he nods.  You take his hand and haul him to his feet, not letting it go as the two of you weave through the Gladers gathered around the fire.  You can feel eyes on you, and catch a few snippets of comments as you pass through.

“I think I see where this is going.”

“Took ‘em long enough.”

“Get some, Minho!”

You try your best to ignore it, and hope Minho isn’t hearing any of it.  Finally, the two of you are far enough from the fire that only a faint orange glow reaches you, and the Gladers are out of earshot.  You can feel your heart thundering in your chest in anticipation of what you plan to do.  You can’t seem to bring your eyes up to meet Minho’s level gaze, but you know there is a look of concern on his face, as you can hear it in his voice.

“Y/n, is something wrong?” he asks, his voice soft and low.  “Did something happen?  What, did someone walk in on you or something?”  His tone seems to grow more anxious with every passing second that you didn’t answer him.  “Did I say something wrong?  What’s the matter?  Why won’t you answer me?”

Finally, you can’t take it anymore and find yourself standing on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to Minho’s.  At first, he becomes stiff, clearly surprised, and you worry that you’re wrong about everything.  Then, he relaxes and you feel his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer as he returns your kiss.  Everything seems to melt away and time comes to a stop as you draw your hands up to the back of his neck, tilting your head slightly as the two of you press yourselves closer together, hungrily kissing one another.  The only things you are aware of are Minho’s lips on yours, the way his strong arms are wrapped around you, the way your body is pressed into his.

After a moment, you have to pull away to catch your breath, and you sneak a glance up at his face.  You start to notice little things you hadn’t seen before, like the tiny sliver of a scar just to the left of his nose, the way the corners of his eyebrows lilt upwards when he smiles down at you, or the flecks of amber hidden in his deep brown eyes.

“What was that for?” he asks, his eyes darting between your y/e/c orbs and your lips, clearly begging to continue.

You nibble at your lip, not quite sure of yourself.  “I don’t know,” you say slowly, your fingers lightly pulling at strands of hair on the back of his head.  “I just wanted to see…”

“See what?” he questions, just the slightest bit of impatience coming into his voice as his face nears yours.

“If we’re more than just… more than just friends,” you finally manage to say, your eyes lowering as a deep blush colors your cheeks.  You sneak a glance up at Minho’s face in time to see a grin spread across his features.

“I think we’ve figured that out, haven’t we?” he says.  The next thing you know, his lips are pressed hard into yours as he hugs you ever closer into himself.  You smile beneath his kiss, arms reaching up to pull his face closer to yours.  His hands slowly make their way down your sides, sending chills up your spine before you feel his fingers curl under your thighs, inviting you to jump up and wrap your legs around him, to which you willingly oblige.  The two of you continue like this, lost in each other’s embrace until something catches your attention.

“Wooooo!” comes a cry from one of the Gladers; it sounds like Thomas.  It is quickly accompanied by a chorus of whoops and catcalls.  “Check out the lovebirds!  About time you two figured it out!”

You manage to pull your face away from Minho’s hungry kisses, a furious blush feeling like it’s enveloping your entire being, but you stay where you are, wrapped around Minho.

“Don’t stop on our account!” shouts Newt, followed by some laughs by the Gladers.  “We’ve waited too long for this!”

You rest your head on Minho’s shoulder, an embarrassed smile tugging at your lips before Minho sets you down and your feet once again rest on the ground.  His hands rest on your waist for a moment before he brings one up to lift your chin so that you would meet his gaze.  “Ignore them,” he says, a smirk on lips.

“I can’t,” you whisper, returning his grin.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to finish this tomorrow, then, shuckface.”

“I guess we will, slinthead.”

He grins before giving you one last kiss, which is met with a loud ruckus from the audience of Gladers.  He pulls away, slipping his hand into yours.  Your fingers intertwine with his as he leads you back to the bonfire, a klunk-eating grin smeared across both your faces.