#i need to see if i can find it as the asian supermarket near me im despondent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gukyi · 4 years ago

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that’s the spirit! | myg

summary: min yoongi hates halloween. as his best friend and resident halloween-lover, that is simply unacceptable. but when halloween night rolls around and you and min yoongi feel farther apart than ever before, you discover that what’s come between you is more than just a bad trick, and that no matter what day it is, loving him is the sweetest treat of all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au, halloween!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, a little angst? (a little i promise) word count: 8k (woohoo! i did it!) warnings: alcohol consumption, underage drunkenness in flashbacks, misunderstandings, helpless but mutual pining, halloween parties, this is halloween during college, what else do you expect a/n: some scenes inspired by love, rosie, my absolute favorite rom-com! happy halloween, and i hope this brings some joy to your life before armageddon i mean election day rolls around! much love 🎃💜

Min Yoongi hates Halloween.

Which is ridiculous, because you assume that there must have been at least one time in his life where he liked it. Halloween is a universally-liked holiday. It was the one day of the year where he, an unbridled child rebelling against authority, got to dress up as his favorite book character, superhero, or movie star, hang out with his friends past sunset, and solicit strangers for free candy. Free candy! How could anyone hate that?

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter what Min Yoongi was like in his youth. Ever since you met him, he has hated Halloween. For reasons completely unbeknownst to you.

Unfortunately for Min Yoongi, just because he hates Halloween doesn’t mean that he gets to spend his October pretending that it doesn’t exist. Because, unlike him, you do not hate Halloween. In fact, you rather like it. So much so that Min Yoongi has to deal with the holiday no matter what. For better…

“Ah! What the fuck!”

Or for worse.

You pop your head out of your bedroom to find Yoongi about to throw down with the fake skeleton you’ve propped up by the door, one of those cheesy ones from Spirit Halloween that make a zombie sound whenever its artificial brain can sense someone near it. He’s got this wide-eyed look on his face, fists up in front of him like he’s going to beat the damn thing senseless, even though Min Yoongi is barely five-feet-ten and has a body that functions exclusively on iced coffee and could probably get taken down by the average third-grader.

Min Yoongi does not have a flight instinct. He only knows how to fight.

He’s muttering to himself by the time you emerge completely from your bedroom, grumbling about how he nearly wet himself at the sight of the thing, fingers glossing over the plastic bones as he inspects them. There he stands in the doorway of your apartment, curled-up fists tucked inside the too-long sleeves of his too-big hoodie, pink lips parted in innocent confusion as he blinks at your apartment’s new resident.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” You chide from where you stand in your room, watching as Yoongi jerks his head up. The sound of your voice seems to catch him off guard for a minute, eyes wide in shock before he realizes that it’s you and his whole body relaxes. “Was that you I just heard screaming outside my apartment, Min Yoongi?”

“No,” Yoongi deadpans, fully aware that the both of you know that it was him. “Must have been someone else.”

“Yes, of course, my mistake,” you tease, coming up behind him to rub his upper arm, the palm of your hand pressing against the worn fabric of his hoodie sleeve as he sighs. “You don’t have a problem with my festive decorations at all, do you?”

“Not those,” Yoongi frowns, pointing to the orange and black streamers hanging above your apartment window, to the mini pumpkins sitting in the center of your dinky kitchen table, to the construction paper cutouts of black cats decorating your walls. He rounds on the skeleton, propped up right next to the door with the sole purpose of scaring whatever visitors you have. “This, I have a problem with. What is this thing?”

You smile proudly. “Reginald.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Yoongi looks at you, positively flabbergasted. “You named it?”

You scoff. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I bought him, he’s mine now, and he needed a name. So I named him Reginald. What’s the issue here?” You weren’t about to buy a twenty-five dollar plastic skeleton, set him up to be your personal doorman, and not give him a name.

“The issue is that this—” he motions to Reginald’s face, “—is the first thing I see when I walk into your apartment, instead of—oh, I don’t know—you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aw, I’m touched,” you say, pressing a hand to your heart. “Didn’t know you always wanted to see my face first thing when you come over.”

Yoongi’s gaze drifts down towards the floor, thumbs twiddling. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, words barely audible. “Why else would I come over?”

“I don’t know, for the ambience, maybe?” You say with a shrug, watching him slide his backpack off of his shoulder and onto the floor by the couch. “Anyway, maybe if you had come with me to Spirit Halloween when I went shopping for decorations, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”

“I had two midterms that week! Two!” Yoongi reminds you.”

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, hands up defensively as you make your way to the kitchen, fishing out two teabags from the cabinet as you set the kettle to boil. You never used to like tea, but a year ago Yoongi convinced you to try this jasmine flower one from the Asian supermarket downtown and you haven’t looked back. Now there’s always at least three spare boxes in your kitchen cupboards, for you and for him. “No time is a bad time to get into the Halloween spirit.”

Yoongi sighs, loud and obvious, because this is the third year in a row you’ve brought up this conversation and it’s not any more convincing than it was the last two times. “Do we have to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t we just pretend it’s November Eve?”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you plead, because he’s never given you a good explanation as to why he refuses to spend Halloween with you, and you just want to know why. “Won’t you just celebrate this one stupid holiday with me?”

“So you admit it’s stupid?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You frown at him, crossing your arms as the kettle starts whistling.

Yoongi exhales, reaching over you to pour the boiling water into your teacups, matching His and Hers ones you bought from the sale section of Target last year for Valentine’s Day. “It’s just not my thing. You know that.”

“But we’re college students,” you exclaim. “Halloween is the best when you’re a college student! You get to dress up as whatever you want and go to five different parties and spend the night with your friends without your parents chaperoning you.”

Yoongi purses his lips, unconvinced. “So… basically an opportunity to get piss drunk in a frat house? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“You know that I wouldn’t care what we did if you celebrated Halloween with me,” you say, leaning against the counter as you hold your mug in your hands, the heat warming your palms and steam brushing against the skin of your cheeks. “Even if we just stayed in and watched a movie. Or played one of those horror video games Jungkook’s always talking about.”

“That sounds worse,” Yoongi admits with a helpless laugh. It really does. Neither you nor Yoongi have ever been huge fans of the horror genre Jungkook loves so much.

You chuckle. “Honestly, yeah, forget I said anything about that.”

“You know I just don’t care for Halloween that much,” Yoongi says, gazing down into the swirling brown of his mug, the steam from the water making his glasses fog up. “It’s nothing personal.”

You sigh. That’s about as good of an answer you’re going to be getting out of him. No matter what you suggest, whether it be a house party, a night in, or even just a candy feast, he has always declined, citing his unexplainable dislike for the festivities. The only reason he deals with the holiday in the first place is because you love it so much.

“Will you at least help me carve some pumpkins please?” You ask, a last ditch effort to get him to participate. “The supermarket on Fifteenth Street is having a sale on them, and I wanted to decorate the windowsill. It’s easier with two people, you know.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, looking hesitant.

“Oh, please, Yoongi? Just this once? It’s not even, like, a strictly Halloween thing. It’s just a fall thing! Plus, we can roast the pumpkin seeds after for a snack,” you plead, placing your cup down on the counter so you can tug on his arms, hands wrapped around his wrists as you stare into his eyes, positively desperate.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Yoongi says with a huff, that resigned tone to his voice that signifies that he’s caving in. “Yes, we can carve pumpkins together. That I will do.”

“Oh my God, really? Yes! Yay, thank you so much!” In a fit of excitement, surprise, and joy, you pull Yoongi in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tilts back in shock, tea spilling out over the edge of his mug and onto the linoleum floor beneath your feet, drops of it splashing against your skin.

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Yoongi says, taken aback. Still nestled tightly within your arms, he carefully sets his mug down onto the counter so as to avoid more spilling, his other hand pressing against the small of your back. “I didn’t know pumpkin carving was so important to you.”

You laugh, pulling away as you look into his eyes, crinkled up into fond little crescents. “It’s not. But you are.”

“So cheesy,” Yoongi chides.

“You love it,” you remind him, pressing the side of your body against his as you lean against the counter together. Instinctively, you let your head flop onto his shoulder, fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. “Thanks for doing this for me,” you say softly.

“Of course,” Yoongi says. “Anything for you.”

“Look how festive campus is!”

Yoongi chuckles as he watches you skip down the main walkway, the one that winds right from the west to the east side of campus, relishing in the feeling of autumn. Yoongi always forgets that it’s fall until it hits him like a brick to the head, and suddenly it’s getting dark at five-thirty and he can’t go outside without a proper jacket anymore. It’s a week until November, and Yoongi still refuses to wear anything heavier than a denim jacket, no matter how cold it gets. It can’t be winter yet, right?

“Wow, all the tones really fit the spooky mood,” you tell him, leaves crinkling as your feet step on the fallen foliage, brown and orange and yellow and red.

“How convenient it is that orange happens to be one of Halloween’s signature colors,” Yoongi chides with a roll of his eyes. “Is the Castle still hosting that party next week?”

“The costume one? Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” you tell him with a nod. “We’re still going, right?”

“Only because it’s our first year,” Yoongi reminds you pointedly. “And since you wanna celebrate together so badly.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like it’s such a drag. I know you want to spend time with me.”

Yoongi chuckles to himself, casual and cool. He knows you’re just teasing him but quite frankly, if Yoongi could spend every day of the rest of his life with you, then he would. If he could turn himself into a witch and cast a spell to keep you by his side for the rest of time, then he would. From the moment the two of you met in your dingy dorm, you clicked. And Yoongi knew, in that moment. He just knew.

“Oh my God, look at the pumpkins!”

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, your finger pointing excitedly at the carved pumpkins outside of the dormitories that line the walkway, lit candles nestled safely inside. They’ve got everything from the college logo to video game characters to the face of your lovable-but-memeable university president carved into them, decorating the street with a little more personality than normal.

“They’re so cute, holy shit,” you tell Yoongi fondly, all endeared and heart-eyed, the same way you get when someone walks their dog through campus or a professor sends out an update email with a picture of their newborn grandchild. Yoongi’s only known you a couple of months, but already he’s starting to figure out what makes you tick. “I love them. Don’t you love them, Yoongi?”

You turn around to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and when he looks back at you it feels like his whole heart is lighter. He sees your smile and it makes his body fill with warmth, like someone’s wrapping a blanket around him, like a warm cup of hot cocoa on a cool autumn afternoon. He looks back at you, and it feels like everything is right.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, grinning. “I do.”

The lopsided legs of your creaky kitchen table tremble as the pumpkin hits it.

“Damn, is this thing heavy or am I just getting weaker?” You ask, smoothing out the newspaper spread out on the flat surface of the table, two college students’ best attempt to avoid a mess. They’re old student copies with headlines like Brand New Cafeteria, but is the Food Even Any Good? and New Semester, New Me! sprawled across the front. You care about your school news, you really do, but the members of the newspaper team that hand out the papers practically stuff them down your throat whenever there’s a new issue, which is three times a week and at every street intersection on campus. So you’ve had extras lying around.

“Nope, they’re definitely heavy,” Yoongi agrees as he plops his pumpkin onto the table next to yours with a thud. “Though it’s not like I go to the gym much anyway.”

“Didn’t we say we were gonna try and be healthier this year, since we’re graduating?” You ask.

“That was before that new doughnut place opened up next to the ramen restaurant three streets up,” Yoongi reminds you.

“Maybe grad school?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, reaching over the table to grab the pumpkin carving kits the two of you bought from the drugstore down the road. “Caution. Keep out of reach of children ages three and under,” he reads. “Welp, guess I can’t do this then…”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you say with a deadpan frown, grabbing onto his wrist. “Hold on a minute, Mr. I Promised I Would Do This For My Best Friend.” Yoongi exhales dramatically as you pull him back towards the table, though it’s not as if there was much resistance from him in the first place.

You pry open the plastic wrapping that surrounds the kit, the orange tools eventually popping out of their casing and onto your newspaper-ed table. Sure, you could have probably pulled out two knives from your kitchen drawer and it wouldn’t make a difference, but spending ten dollars each on these two little pumpkin carving kits didn’t seem like a waste of money. For the sake of Halloween spirit, right?

“What do you want to carve?” You ask, handing Yoongi your open kit as you gaze at the instruction manual. Pumpkin carving shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? You cut open the top, pull out all the gunk from the inside, and then carve a face, or something.

“I’m not a very good artist,” Yoongi admits, looking hesitant.

“Well, the good thing about pumpkin carving is that no one expects them to look nice,” you point out. “I think I want to do that anime eyes face emoji. You know the one. Let’s see…”

You grab a hold of the plastic knife that came with the kit, hover the tip over the top of the pumpkin, and stab. It sinks into the squash up to the hilt. That’s the good part.

The bad part is that, because you’re holding onto a knife made out of non-recyclable plastic, moving it once it’s inside the pumpkin is exceedingly difficult. You pull it right and left fruitlessly, watching as the knife sits firmly in place, the handle bending with the curve of your fingers if you tug on it too hard.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Yoongi says with another sigh, abandoning his own pumpkin, which he has already de-stalked in the minutes you weren’t looking his way. “Let me help you.”

Suddenly, you feel a warmth wrap around you. A figure presses against your back, this musky, coffee-laden scent surrounding you, and you watch as Yoongi’s calloused hands slowly envelop yours, fingertips pressing firmly against your skin. It makes you freeze up instinctively, jumping at the sensation of his body around yours, of his torso pressed against your back, of his breath tickling your ear.

“Relax, alright?” He says, voice calm and gentle. He brings your hands to the knife, lets his palms rest against them as your fingers slowly wrap around the handle. You can feel him breathing, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against you, the heat of his mouth just inches away from your cheek. “It’s just me.”

You force a chuckle. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

You feel Yoongi pause behind you.

“Seriously, I’m fine. Help me,” you insist.

Steadily, albeit a little bit tentatively, Yoongi does. His hand wrapped around yours, together the two of you carve out the top of the pumpkin, his chest pressed firmly against your back, body engulfing you. He feels so close, so goddamn close, like there is barely an inch of space in between the two of you, like if he were to bend down right there and if you were shift yourself around you would see nothing but his face right in front of yours, his hazy brown eyes looking back at you, twinkling in the white light of your kitchen.

It almost makes you want to turn around and look.

“There we go,” Yoongi says, voice suddenly soft, quiet like there’s something else weighing on his tongue. “What are you thinking of carving?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, lips upturned. “Maybe you?”

“I don’t make for a very attractive pumpkin picture,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head, even though that’s total bullshit for a number of reasons.

First of all, a pumpkin portrait is by no means meant to be an attractive portrayal of you, unless you’re Keanu Reeves and you look photogenic no matter what. Second of all, there has never been a time where Yoongi has not looked good. He always does. He did during finals week when his body was made of nothing but iced coffee, he did in freshman year when the two of you would stay awake until the early morning getting vodka spilled all over you in frat houses, and he does now, tired eyes and soft skin, dark hair and pink lips, standing in your apartment like he belongs here, like this is where he was meant to be.

“I think you would,” you tell him honestly. “You’d look good no matter what.”

Yoongi’s silent at that, but you can tell from the way his cheeks are turning red he’s taken the compliment to heart. It makes you want to shower him in them. It makes you want to freeze this moment in time, suspended in reality, and stay like that forever.

“Then I’ll do you,” he says with a grin, because what else would he say? Who else would he choose? You are going to put two matching pumpkins on your windowsill, and they will be of you and him. Messy, Picasso-style portraits carved into the orange skin. Two best friends, together even as fucking pumpkins.

You will carve out a picture of him, and he will carve out a picture of you, and isn’t that what this is really all about?

“Do you think people are gonna get the wrong idea about us?”

“What do you mean?”

Yoongi turns around to face you where you stand in front of your dorm mirror, this giant plastic one hanging on two hooks that you’ve latched onto the door of your room. He knows that you can see him in the mirror, staring back at you with a black mask over his face and a cape draped over his shoulders, the giant yellow emblem printed out on a piece of paper and taped onto his chest. It’s a last minute costume, for sure, but it gets the job done nicely.

“I mean,” you say, fixing the cat ears that sit atop your head. “Do you think people are gonna think we’re a couple, or something?”

Yoongi grins nervously and hopes that you don’t notice. “I mean, we’re just going to a frat party. I doubt it’s going to be light enough to see anything at all. Why?”

“Well, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us,” you say, adjusting the mask over your eyes. Yoongi, unabashedly, rakes his eyes up and down your figure. Your black turtleneck and skintight leather leggings don’t leave very much to the imagination. You’re definitely much more in costume than he is, to say the least.

“We’re freshmen, people already have the wrong idea about us,” Yoongi scoffs.

You turn around just so you can shoot a frown his way. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you so worried about people getting the wrong idea about us?” Yoongi asks you, an eyebrow raised. This does not exactly bode well for him. “We can be Batman and Catwoman together no matter what people think.”

“I don’t know, I guess I just—” You stop in your tracks, letting the words fall off your lips and crash to the floor. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What? You can tell me,” Yoongi says, concern lacing his voice. He rushes over to you, the two of you staring at your reflections in the mirror. Two friends, clad in black, wearing matching costumes. If Yoongi wasn’t sober right now, maybe he would actually do it.

Maybe.

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” you shrug it off with a shake of your head. “I’m happy to be doing this with you. Even if your costume totally sucks.”

“Hey!” Yoongi exclaims defensively. “It is not my fault you came up with this idea last minute even though you already owned everything. I had to pay twenty-five cents to print this in color, you know.”

“A Twenty-five cent costume and you still look good.”

You and Yoongi smile at each other in the mirror, lips turned up as you stare at yourselves, wondering if this is all you will ever be, or if there is something more.

Yoongi sure hopes it’s the latter.

And he’s determined to find out, once and for all, tonight.

You’ve just lit the candles that sit inside yours and Yoongi’s pumpkins when you hear the knock at your door.

You’re sure that Yoongi can hear you from a mile away as you scurry towards the door, white platform heels clapping against the floorboards with every step you take. You’re going to have to practice walking in these a bit more. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought them only a week before Halloween, and maybe you should have at least tried to break them in a little bit.

“Hello?” You swing open the door.

“He—whoa,” Yoongi begins before his eyes widen to the size of the moon as he fully takes in the sight in front of him. “What’s with the—uh, the… dress?” He’s scratching at the nape of his neck, eyes sweeping up and down your body.

You hold out the skirt of your sequined, bedazzled dress as best you can, and grin. “I’m a gogo dancer! What do you think?”

“Wow, I—” Yoongi starts, a little speechless. “I don’t know. Wow. You look… you look nice, Y/N.”

You smile, thankful for the compliment. Yoongi seems weirdly breathless, blinking more often than usual, like he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s seeing is real. Although, you will admit that this dress is much more sparkly than anything else you have in your closet. You reckon a few disco balls were sacrificed to make this costume.

“Why—uh, why did you call me over? Did you need something from me?”

“Actually, yes,” you say, ushering Yoongi into your apartment.

As he’s walking inside, Yoongi notices the pumpkins sitting on your windowsill. “Hey, those look cute together.”

“Don’t they?” You say proudly. Nobody else has commented on them, but then again, you live on the fifth floor of your apartment, so you don’t imagine many people can even see them from ground level. But it’s nice to know that they’re there, and that they mean something. Not to a whole lot of people, but to you. And to him. “But that’s not why I asked you to come over.”

“Why, what’s up?”

You freeze when he looks up at you, like you can hardly will the next few words to come out of your mouth. They’re stuck at the dam of your lips, refusing to budge, because there is this tiny, this little part of you that doesn’t even have the courage to ask. To say it. Because you know already.

“Hoseok’s throwing a party tonight—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“But I know what you’re going to say,” Yoongi says like it’s obvious, because it is. “You’re going to ask me to come with you. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I am not going to go. I’m just not.”

“But it’s not a shitty frat party or anything!” You exclaim, desperately trying to dig yourself out of a hole you’re already six-feet in. “It’s at his place, an apartment across campus, with just some friends of his. There won’t be crazy music and sleazy guys and jungle juice. It’s just going to be a house party.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want to go,” Yoongi tells you. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Why? Why won’t you go?” You demand, because the least your best friend of nearly four years could do is give you a real reason. A real reason as to why he hates Halloween, why he never wants to celebrate it with you, why he never wants to go out with you on your favorite night of the year.

“Because I just don’t want to! Why can’t you just accept that? I don’t want to go!”

Silence. It’s almost as if Yoongi’s shocked he was even speaking so loudly in the first place.

Next to you, the candles flicker.

“I don’t get it,” you say, resigned. “I don’t understand. This is our very last year to celebrate Halloween as college students, as best friends, and you can’t even give me a real excuse as to why you won’t come with me.”

Yoongi frowns. “What do you mean, ‘a real excuse’?”

“Exactly that,” you say sharply. “A real excuse. Even when I offer for us to just stay in and eat KitKats and watch a shiity movie you refuse. All because it’s Halloween. I don’t get it. It’s not the crowds, and it’s not the drinks, and it’s not even the other stuff, like the pumpkins and the decorations. Is it me? Am I the reason you don’t want to celebrate Halloween?”

“No, what the fuck, it’s not you!”

“Then what is it, Yoongi?” You plead, not even making an attempt to lower your voice. Can’t he hear the sheer desperation in your voice? The hopelessness? “Why won’t you just tell me why you don’t ever want to celebrate this goddamn holiday with me? Is it my fault?”

“I just don’t!”

The sound of Yoongi’s shouts echoes throughout your living space, bouncing off of the walls. You look back at him, feeling helpless, but he doesn’t look angry, or enraged. He looks exhausted. Like this conversation has knocked the wind right out of him, stolen the breath from his lungs. Like suddenly the pot has boiled over, only it’s extinguished the flames that kept it burning.

“I just don’t,” Yoongi repeats, fists clenched tightly by his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He gives you one last tired look, matching your own defeated expression, before turning around and walking out of your apartment. The door shuts firmly behind him, neither a slam nor a gentle stop, leaving you stranded in the middle of your living space, watching his silhouette disappear.

You sigh. You don’t think Yoongi will ever tell you why he hates Halloween. And while that may be no fault of your own, you can’t help but feel like it has something to do with you.

Yoongi could probably count the amount of times he’s gone to a frat party on one hand, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t already know everything there is to know about them. In his eyes, once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all.

Still, he supposes that it being Halloween makes this one a little different. Everyone’s in some sort of costume, whether it be good or bad or just plain old lazy, and there are at least a few orange and black decorations lining the walls of the Castle, and they’ve curated a playlist with Halloween songs as well as rap songs Yoongi has heard plenty of times before, so for once, Yoongi will give the fraternity a bit of credit when it comes to their Halloween party-planning.

Beside him, you take another giant chug of your drink from the orange solo cup in your hand, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” He says, though he doubts you can even hear him over the music, loud in the kind of way that his ears are going to be ringing far into tomorrow morning.

“I’m fine!” You shout back, even though you are definitely not. The entire room reeks of a mixture of vodka and sickly sweet soda.

“I just want to make sure you’re not overdoing it!” He tells you as the two of you get shoved together from some massive guy pushing past Yoongi and sending him crashing towards you. He catches a glimpse of the contents of your cup, eyebrows raising when he sees that it’s almost empty. You just got that drink five minutes ago.

You smile. “I’m not!”

The song changes, and Yoongi swears that he can feel the entire house shake as everyone screams, cheering as they bounce up and down, dancing to the beat. Next to him, you are finishing the last few drops of whatever’s in your cup, finding an empty ledge to place it down on when you’re done, and pulling him in close to you.

“Let’s dance!” You shriek excitedly.

And who is Yoongi to resist?

He lets you take your hand in his own and parade him around the tiny little space the two of you share, a couple square feet of freedom in this crowded room, chock full of sweaty bodies just like his. Yoongi may not have had as much to drink as you, but the little bit of alcohol in his system is already shutting down normal mental processes like not-staring-at-you-constantly and pretending-that-he-likes-you-just-as-a-friend, sending him into a tizzy whenever he meets your starstruck eyes.

Even in this dingy, sweaty, unventilated fraternity living room, you are beautiful. You are beautiful here, and you are beautiful at three in the morning after twelve straight hours of studying, and you are beautiful after spilling the dining hall’s chicken noodle soup all over yourself.

God, you’re the only person Yoongi is looking at in this room. You’re the only person he sees.

Shaking his head, Yoongi abandons those thoughts as the song comes to an end, a hand wrapped around your wrist as he leans into your ear. “Do you wanna go outside? It’s hot in here!”

“Okay, whatever!” You agree easily, too easygoing after you’ve got a few drinks in you.

Yoongi grabs a hold of your sweaty hand and tugs you towards the back door, one that he thinks leads to a fenced in backyard. You squeeze through the crowd, getting a couple of drinks spilled on your shoes on the way until you reach the back door and Yoongi fumbles with the knob, shaking it a couple of times before it gets loose. Eventually, the two of you stumble outside into the backyard, where a couple of people are playing beer pong and a couple of others look like they’re making out.

It’s a frat party. What else did Yoongi expect?

It’s the end of October, and Yoongi doesn’t even have on a jacket, but the chill of the night has little effect on him after being in a room that’s felt like one hundred degrees for an hour. Out here, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe.

“It’s kinda cold out here, don’t you think?”

Yoongi doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re wrapping yourself up in him, curling into his body and placing his arm around your figure, letting the heat from his frame radiate onto your skin.

“Better than being in there,” Yoongi reasons.

“But aren’t you having fun?”

He looks down to see you looking up with him with big, wide eyes, like you’re afraid that he isn’t having fun, or afraid that you’re enjoying this night more than he is. It makes him smile. “With you, I am.”

You grin at that, turning back to face forward, head pressing into the crook of his neck. “That’s good to hear,” you tell him. “It seemed like you were kinda nervous.”

“Nervous?” His voice cracks as he says it. Fuck.

“Yeah, is there something you wanna tell me? It looks like you’ve been dying to say something all night,” you comment mindlessly, clearly much more observant now than you are when you’re sober. Or perhaps, Yoongi’s just more obvious.

He takes a deep breath, pressing his eyes shut tightly. This is his chance. He knows it.

“Actually, yes, there is,” he says, and it feels like he has to force the words out of his mouth because they’re refusing to come out on their own, pausing at the edge of his lips. It feels like he has to overcome his own mind in order to tell you, feels like every word is a sucker punch to his lungs.

You pull away from him, looking up at Yoongi with big, blinking eyes. It’s a clear night, and Yoongi knows because he can see the fucking stars reflected in your pupils, see them twinkling as your glossy eyes gaze back up at him. You look up at Yoongi and God, you are just so beautiful. You are beautiful, and Yoongi wonders, then, if you know. If you know how Yoongi looks at you. If you know how he feels about you. He is so in love. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. You are beautiful and he is so in love, and he’s been dying to tell you that and this might be his only opportunity to do so, because tomorrow will be a new day and Yoongi won’t have the guts tomorrow. This is his only chance.

You deserve to know.

“Well?” You ask him. “What is it?”

Yoongi wraps his arm around the small of your back, pulls you into him, and presses his lips to yours.

Hoseok’s party is fun. It’s definitely one of the better ones you’ve been to in your four years of university so far. There aren’t too many people, and the drinks are actually good instead of just burning your throat, and his music taste is impeccable.

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever been so unenthused at a party in your whole life. Thriller by Michael Jackson blares from Hoseok’s television speakers, chatter fills the room, and Hoseok’s girlfriend, Haebin, is constantly checking up on you, but never has one place felt so empty.

It’s not really very difficult for you to wonder why.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whip your head around to find Haein standing by the kitchen table, gesturing towards Hoseok as he’s looking up the recipe for a drink he wants to try.

“You want one? Hoseok’s trying to make Long Island Iced Tea,” Haebin asks. Next to her, Hoseok is struggling to get the measurements right. At least he’s making an attempt.

You stare down at your nearly-full cup of strawberry daiquiri. You took one sip when Haebin first handed it to you thirty minutes ago, and haven’t touched it since. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Haebin sighs, patting Hoseok on the back encouragingly before she makes her way over to where you’re sitting on their couch, pressed up against the arm of the sofa as you mindlessly swirl the drink around in your cup, eyes zoning into the whirlpool you’re creating. She sits down next to you with a smile, with the kind of look on her face that makes you simultaneously thankful for and dread the conversation you’re about to have.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You don’t even believe yourself when you say it.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me. I just know that Halloween is your favorite holiday and I was wondering if there was something getting you down tonight,” Haebin says in that comforting, gentle sort of way, like an old friend who knows all your tells.

“It’s not a big deal, really. I think I’m just out of it tonight,” you say, not drunk enough to divulge more information but also not sober enough to keep your mouth completely shut.

Haebin smiles at you, lips pursed. “Alright then. If everything’s alright.” She pushes her hands onto her thighs as she gets off of the couch, heading back towards the kitchen to help Hoseok figure out how to mix drinks. But before she leaves you alone, she turns around and says one more thing. “You know, I don’t know why Yoongi’s not here or anything, but I wish that he was. You always look so much happier whenever he’s around.”

And that just sends your mind into meltdown.

Defeated, alone, and best friend-less, you place your cup down on the end table to your left and get up off of the couch, beginning to gather your belongings, your coat and your shoes and your bag, tugging your arms through the sleeves as you storm towards the door, eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed.

“Hey, where are you going—?”

“I gotta go, Haebin. I just—” You pull on a shoe, tugging at the boot as it slips over your heel, “—I gotta go. Thank Hoseok for me, okay? I have to go.”

You only have time to catch Haebin nod, wordless, before you tug open the door to Hoseok’s apartment and stomp outside.

This is the worst Halloween of your life, bar none. The time when you were four and you tripped over a curb on the sidewalk, spraining your ankle doesn’t even come close. It’s your very last year to celebrate Halloween as a college student, to celebrate it by getting dressed up in a low-effort costume and spending time with your friends, and your best friend isn’t even here. He refused.

He refused and you still don’t know why, but worst of all he refused and you still wish he was here. You wish you could have spent time with him tonight. More than anything else. You wish you could have spent the night wrapped up together on your couch, or on your bed, watching your favorite television shows and enjoying each other’s company. You wish you could have curled into his body as the television blared, pressed your head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of his skin on yours. God, you wish you could have.

You wish you could have told him.

You wish you had the guts to.

Twenty minutes later finds you outside one of the dozens of frat parties likely occurring on campus right now, the bass from the music so loud that you can feel it in your eardrums even outside of the building. No part of you wants to go inside something like that, but at this point you start to wonder if maybe hopping different frats is actually your best idea. Get a drink, get drunk, and then move onto the next one. Rinse and repeat until you don’t remember a thing about this terrible, awful night.

As you walk along the sidewalk, you spot another student sitting on the curb underneath a leaf-less tree, a cheap black drugstore masquerade mask covering the top half of his face. He doesn’t seem to be having a particularly enjoyable night either.

Normally, the last thing you’d want to do is sit down next to a stranger whose face is disguised, because who knows what could happen to you if you do, but there are at least twenty people surrounding the two of you, loitering outside the frat house in the hopes that they can eventually get inside. And honestly, you could use a fucking break.

As casually as you can possibly manage, you take a seat next to the boy, a few inches apart from him as he looks up at you. You can’t make out too much in the dim light of the frat house, but he’s illuminated just enough for you to see his eyes widen at the sight of you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You ask.

He shakes his head.

You smile in thanks, shifting around where you’re seated on the cold cement, eyes drifting all over the place, from the houses across the street to the road to the people standing around, anything to avoid turning back towards the boy and initiating an even more awkward conversation. Sitting down, the world stops spinning, just a little bit. You didn’t have too much to drink at Hoseok’s, but it was enough to loosen your mind.

“Can I say something?” You say loudly, turning towards the boy.

It was enough to loosen your lips too, apparently.

The boy stares back at you, silent.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.” You close your eyes, breathing in and breathing out, feeling your chest rise and fall. “I am not having a great night. And I wish I was out here with another friend of mine, instead. He’s my best friend, actually. He just… didn’t want to come out tonight with me. But I wish he was here, because I love spending time with him, and I miss him.”

The words spill off of your tongue like lava from a volcano, bursting from your lips completely unfiltered. It surprises you, a little, how much you actually have to say. How much has been weighing on your chest.

You don’t expect him to respond. Truthfully, you can’t even believe you’re unloading all of your baggage onto him in the first place. Since when are you the type of person to tell other people about the tragedies of your life?

But then, he says, “You do?”

And it makes you wonder what else you’ve been keeping hidden.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you realize. “I love spending time with him. He makes every day brighter, turns everything he touches into laughter. And I wanted to spend time with him tonight because I actually thought he would want to. You know, we carved pumpkins together a few days ago. Of each other’s faces.” You force out a laugh. “We carved each other’s faces into pumpkins and he still isn’t here tonight. I wanted him to be here because he’s my best friend, and because he makes me so happy, and even other people are noticing what effect he has on me. Noticing how fucking happy he makes me. Because he does. I feel like I’m a better person with him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him and he’s not here and instead of going to look for him I’m sitting here telling you the sob story that is my life and I just wish—”

“Does that mean you love him?” The boy asks softly.

“What?”

“Does that mean you love him?”

You turn to look at the boy, eyebrows raised, almost ready to deny such a thing, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

How could you say you don’t love Yoongi? Of course you do. He is your best friend. You never want to live a day when he’s not by your side. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. He makes you smile and laugh like it’s nobody’s business, brightens your day without even trying. Just seeing him is enough to lift your spirits. Seeing his face on the other side of your apartment door, all ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his hoodie, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, pink lips parted in a grin. That image you have of him in your head—it’s one you don’t ever want to forget. He is standing in your apartment, lips upturned, eyes crushed into crescents, smiling at you. He is mid-laugh, grinning from ear to ear at something you said. He is right there.

“Well, yeah,” you say, because what else are you supposed to do? “I guess I do.”

Suddenly, your chest feels a whole lot lighter.

The boy next to you smiles, the dim light barely illuminating his features, but when you look at him there is something so strangely familiar about him, about the way he blinks at you, about the peak of his Cupid’s bow, about how his lips are stretched into a grin. It couldn’t be him… could it?

But before you have time to ask, he is leaning towards you and pressing his lips atop yours, crashing your mouths together in a desperate, messy kiss. His palm presses against your cheek and you can’t help but sink into it, sink into the way his other hand curls around to rest on the small of your back, let yourself be engulfed by him.

You’ve never kissed Yoongi before, but you know that this is what it must be like.

You know, from the way your blood starts to sizzle, sparks rushing through your veins. From the way your heart is pumping, loud and clear in your ears, like it’s been jolted to life. Like a shock is running through your body. Like a warmth is filling you up, from the inside out.

When you part, as Yoongi takes off his mask, he can’t keep the smile off of his face. “I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, positively shocked. “I thought you hated Halloween.”

“I do,” Yoongi confirms. “Or, well, I did, I guess.”

“Then what changed?”

“You. Us. We changed,” Yoongi says, motioning between your bodies. “I hated Halloween because it had bad memories for me. Nothing crazy, but, yeah. You don’t remember?”

“What?” Your mouth drops open. “What should I remember?”

“We kissed that night.” Yoongi begins, eyes shifting down towards the ground. Clearly recalling this is awkward for him. “Halloween, freshman year. Outside of the Castle.”

You don’t remember this at all.

“Well, I kissed you and you kissed me, and I thought that we had established then and there that we liked each other. You know, like, really liked each other. But you were so drunk that night. I don’t know what you had, but you could hardly walk by the time I got you back to your dorm. Your roommate was furious with me.” He shakes his head at the memory, replaying in his mind like a movie. “And I thought, okay, we’ll just talk about this tomorrow. But you must have had a wicked headache or something, because I saw you the next day and you said—”

“God, whatever happened last night, I don’t want to know.”

It’s the middle of the day, the sun high in the crisp November sky, but you have been cradling your forehead ever since Yoongi last dropped you off, back at your dorm, when you were slowly starting to crash.

“What?” His voice is hollow, empty.

“Last night fucked me up real good,” you say with a huff, shaking your head. “I’m glad I don’t remember what happened last night.”

As Yoongi traipses back to square one, his heart shakes in its cage.

“I guess you just didn’t remember,” Yoongi tries to explain, much to your horror as you realize that you and Yoongi have been crushing on each other hopelessly for three years extra without you even realizing it. “So, uh, yeah. That’s why I didn’t like Halloween.”

“You kissed me that night?”

“What?”

“You kissed me that night? Outside of the Castle?”

A tingling on your lips. A faint feeling of warmth. You remember bits of that night. It was cold, and you were freezing in your costume. And you and Yoongi had gone outside to escape the crowd, and he said something, and then you said something, and then he—!

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “I did.”

“And I didn’t remember?”

“I mean, you were really drunk.”

Your shoulders sink, the thought of Yoongi, helplessly pining after you for three more years because he thought you didn’t like him like that, because he thought that the love you shared was one-sided, still sticking by your side as your best friend. At the thought of him deciding it was better to be best friends and keep that love hidden than tell you and risk it all over again. At the thought of him accepting what he thought was his fate.

“I’m sorry,” you say. What else is there to tell him? If you had remembered, if you just didn’t say those words, if you had just told him how you felt, this would have all been so much easier.

“It’s okay now,” Yoongi says, expression growing fond as he pulls you in for a hug, sad to see you so gloomy. “You love me and I love you. What more could I want?”

A realization dawns on you.

Pulling apart from him ever so slightly, you quirk an eyebrow. “You know, you could have just kissed me again the next day, and then we wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this. Plus, you would have still liked Halloween.”

Yoongi scoffs, pressing a kiss to your icy cheek. “So what? I like it now, how about that? I fucking love Halloween now. It turned my best friend into my girlfriend. She’s the love of my life. We can celebrate every Halloween together from now on until the end of time.”

You grin, pressing a kiss back on his little button nose, pink from the cold. Finally. “That’s the spirit.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

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shoelace-and-friends · 3 years ago

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Top 10 BEST chips I’m right you’re wrong

I love love loooooove giving unsolicited opinions on junk food (and just ranking food and drinks in general) so you get to see my chip opinions clog up your dash. I’m in the mood to make a list of potato chips and if you don’t like it too bad for you. My tastebuds are God and they know what’s up and they must tell their divine word.

10. Pizza Pringles

I don’t even fuck with other types of Pringles ever since I tried the pizza flavor because I am absolutely convinced that these are the top tier of the Pringles. Pringles gets points for having pretty much the only pizza flavored chips that I know about. But these still get the 10 spot because tube. I’m a potato chip garbage disposal I need a whole-ass bag of chips. The tube simply aint enough.

9. Herr’s Carolina Reaper Cheese Curls

For some reason I’m only ever able to find these at 5 Below??? I’m guessing it’s because these are considered a novelty but they are genuinely really good. They’re not as hot as advertised (Carolina reaper is listed as the very last ingredient and there’s probably barely any of it there) but they still have a kick and do not fuck around. Like, just enough of a kick that these will hurt you but it’s a good kind of pain and worth it if you can handle spice. The flavor is more like a spicy barbecue sauce but it works. If you’re like, super-duper white though and a spice wimp than you probably should sit this one out.

8. Hawaiian Sweet Maui Onion

It’s been literal years since I’ve last been able to get my hands on a bag of these but I still remember them because they were that good. They make pretty much any other onion flavored chip their bitch. I’ve been trying to hunt these down but I think only certain kinds of ~hipster~ grocery stores seem to carry them in my area.

7. Cheetos (Regular)

A classique. Pretty much anyone whose had these before probably expected them to be on this list. Cheetos are simply iconic. I don’t even need to go in depth here. The original Cheetos are a masterpiece but I’ll be honest they aren’t my favorite Cheeto though.

6. White Cheddar Cheetos Puffs

These are my favorite Cheeto. They’re just so....stuff-in-your-mouth-able. The white cheese dust is basically cocaine to me. And they like, melt in your mouth too? Simply Cheetos Puffs more like Simply be my wife.

5. Ranch Bugles

Ah yes...little witch hats for the fingies. Bugles are so much fun to eat? They get lots of unique shape points. And big points for the corny, salty flavor. And in my opinion, out of all the ranch flavored convenience store snacks I think Bugles have the better ranch flavor, even more so than Cool Ranch Doritos even. I might make some people mad with that opinion, but I’m right.

4. Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos

The best Doritos flavor, hands down. Compared to spicy sweet chili, most of the other Dorito flavors seem more one-dimensional. Being both spicy and sweet gives these Doritos a more complex flavor profile. Nacho Cheese and Cool Ranch could never. I really like how these have a respectable heat but are still mild enough that you can bigtime binge on them.

3. Ruffles Double Crunch Hot Wings

I like these for a similar reason that I like the Doritos. They’re not that spicy but they’re still spicy enough to notice it. A lot of “spicy” snacks out there aren’t really spicy at all because...white people. They actually did get the taste of buffalo sauce on these chips pretty accurate and I was impressed with them. I know that a regular version exists out there, but for some reason I only ever find the double crunch one. But in this case I think the crunch might work in its favor because it holds the flavor better. BTW, ridged chips are superior to smooth chips.

2. Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream

The #1 chip in my ranking is usually hard to obtain so when I go chip shopping, Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream is usually my go-to because of how easy they are to find. They’re popular and deserve it because they are everything a chip should be. Crunchy, salty, cheesy, sour creamy....if anyone doesn’t know, I fucking love sour cream and would eat it straight with a spoon if it weren’t for the fact that I’m probably lactose intolerant and it would be seen as insane. Like...Ruffles are shaped like that so you could dip them but these don’t need dip. They already taste like the best dip ever.

1. Honey Butter Chips

Not to be Korean on main in my mostly American chip ranking but...these are the best chip. Honey and butter sounds like it wouldn’t work together, much less on a potato chip but holy shit does it work. I’m agnostic but when I eat these chips I see pretty much every God ever believed in or conceived. I need the rest of the world outside of South Korea to start recognizing and getting in on these. Please I’m begging you non-asian people make these chips become trendy the same way y’all did with Pocky. I need these to become more assessable because as of now the only stores that I can find them are the Korean supermarkets across state lines near Chicago that are like two hours away from my house. This in unacceptable. I need them readily available at the nearest Pick N’ Save. Also side note look how sexy this bag is.

*Before you complain about about Lays not being on this list at all, Lays Sour Cream and Onion would’ve had the 11th spot if it’s any consolation

*Also to anyone outside the US whose gonna go “How Americentric of you [insert chip from your country] is far superior!!!” mail me some potato chips. I fucking mean it like legitly getting to try foreign potato chips would make me immeasurably happy, but I obviously can’t easily get them here

#food #chips #potato chips #top 10 #top 10 meme #i wanna do this again #ask me about soup!!!!#ask me about candy!!!!!#ask me about soda!!!!#also please try honey butter chips #if you can

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theladyoflove · 4 years ago

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Hi, I find it hard to help and show my support towards blm/Asian American hate because in my area there’s no one organising any events or rallies like I understand there’s a pandemic going on.I sign a lot of petitions and reblog things on insta to share awareness but I’m underage and have no money so it’s hard as well as I live in the uk so any advice?

Hey! I’m not the best person to ask this question to. Since I’m a white woman, I won’t ever fully understand the struggles of people of colour, nor the best ways to help them.

But, my biggest advice is to uplift marginalised voices. Follow creators of colour from the UK, use your platform and your privilege to boost their messages. This shouldn’t be a thing you do only after another POC has suffered violence.

Being underage and trying to be political is a pain; most mandatory educational spaces don’t care to do any activism cause you have to go there anyway. What’s the point in doing good? They won't lose much. Adults don’t take you seriously; friends think you’re “too serious” or “ruining the fun” or “that’s not our fight.” It’s tough.

No one expects you to put money into good causes if you don’t have the means to. It’s always nice to donate, but there are other ways you can help!

- You can volunteer at centres that help with struggles majority BAME communities face (malnutrition, homelessness, poverty, poor education, drug abuse, police brutality) at the hands of our racist systems - I found many food banks by searching “feed the homeless near me”. If you have some spare money, you can donate:

any canned food/ready meals,

sanitary products/washing products (soap, toothpaste/toothbrushes, shampoo, feminine hygiene products etc.),

over-the-counter medicines like antibiotic creams, antihistamines, vitamins (gummy and tablet) etc.,

I would say not to bring quickly perishable items like bread and milk unless the food bank asks for them.

The Trussell Trust has a list of all their food banks in the UK, including ones that collaborate with supermarkets!

- Learn about the history of BAME communities in the UK, the tactics racists/fascists use to recruit, and how to combat them. The books I own are:

How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them - Jason Stanley

Natives: Race & Class in the Ruins of Empire - Akala

How to Argue with a Racist: History, Science, Race and Reality - Adam Rutherford

White Fragility: Why it’s so Hard for White People to Talk About Racism - Robin DiAngelo

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race - Reni Eddo-Lodge

How to be an Anti-Racist - Ibram X. Kendi

The Good Immigrant - ed. Nikesh Shulka

Black and British: Forgotten History - David Olusoga

And I’m excited to buy more! You can find a lot of these as PDFs through z-library. If books are a little too inaccessible to you (due to disability, lack of funds, nowhere to safely keep them, etc.) You can watch videos as well on anti-racism. TEDx Talks feature many creators of colour in this topic, and they’re short and digestible!

- Learn about white privilege/micro-aggressions. It’s best again to do this through creators of colour!

- Keep up to date with organisations like BLM-UK

- If you're safe to do so, fight discriminatory mindsets in your family or friends. It can be exhausting, especially if the person has been sucked into conspiracy theories. It's heartbreaking to lose a loved one that way, and some battles aren't worth fighting. But we need to.

Doing community activism is the best way to let people see that individual differences aren't a threat. It's why UKIP was so successful doing its run from 2012-2016; they went into poor, white neighbourhoods and met their material needs. Activism is purely communal, one person can never change the world in a significant way, so I urge you and everyone else to fight alongside each other.

I know two of the books I listed mention no longer discussing race with white people. I completely understand why people of colour don't want to do it. But white people don't have an excuse not to! If we don't educate people about these issues, they will continue to be bigoted, and nothing will get done.

But above all else, take care of your mental health and know your limits! Please don't feel guilty that you can't fight every fight. Prioritising causes that directly affect you and your loved ones is not a bad thing. These issues don't exist in a vacuum! Fighting for one cause is better than not fighting at all!

tl;dr - Uplift minority voices, donate and volunteer towards causes that affect majority BAME communities, learn about racist tactics and BAME history, and fight bigoted mindsets in those around you. Community activism is key.

#tips #activism #I really hope this is okay! If anyone else has things to add onto this PLEASE do so!!#anonymous #curious little creatures

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sushinemr-blog · 4 years ago

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Sushi Near Me

I've lived in the NEW YORK CITY for over 20 years now and I have often wondered how many of my favourite places on the planet have Sushi restaurants on them. In the NEW YORK CITY, Sushi restaurants are just as popular as bars and clubs and are usually a good place to have a drink or two with friends.

There is something very relaxing about sushi and I often feel more inclined to go to a restaurant for lunch than I do for dinner because of the calm feeling it gives me. It can be hard work to prepare a meal that can fit in with the busy lives that most people lead, but if you are prepared to take your time and make good food, Sushi can be a great way to relax and unwind. Sushi can also be a great option when you're travelling with a large group of friends as you can order the same things as everyone else, and if you like something, you can just grab another order to go along with it.

When I'm on the move, I always love to have a sit down meal at a restaurant with Sushi, especially when I'm not in an area that I really want to be. Sushi has been so much a part of my life that when I'm away, I'm usually ordering the same things from a restaurant.

Sushi can be made in the kitchen and there is often a special place for it when you order it from the counter. If there aren't many restaurants in an area you may need to try the local food stores or even just go to the supermarket to find Sushi.

In America, Sushi restaurants are usually located in the middle of town so you won't see them unless you want to! There is something quite special about having a Sushi restaurant in a new place that you haven't visited before, and there are usually many people who attend these places when they are open too.

In fact, sometimes I like to go to Sushi restaurants when they are closed on a Friday as this is my favourite day of the week. Sushi and Japanese food go hand in hand, which is why I often recommend this as an option to anyone who is looking for something to do on a Friday.

It's easy to find local foods and restaurants that cater specifically for those who want to eat out or have a relaxed meal at home. There are many great Asian restaurants and Chinese places in towns all over the NEW YORK CITY that I have never even seen, and they are very affordable.

Sushi restaurants in the NEW YORK CITY are often expensive, but there are many ways to keep them affordable if you know where to look. It isn't impossible to find one that is good, but if you aren't prepared to pay top dollar for it, you may be better off just buying a Sushi from the grocery store and bringing it back home to enjoy at home instead. If you don't mind being a little adventurous, there are places that have Sushi that is prepared right in your home too!

When I'm looking for Sushi in a local area, I usually go for one in the morning. This way I get to eat the first course and the food tastes so much better than when I go out to eat.

It can be difficult finding the best place for you to eat, but if you're willing to look, I am sure you will find a local sushi restaurant that is good. I can usually find these by searching online, by word of mouth, and by talking to other locals in the area.

I like to eat Sushi in the morning because it means I get to eat breakfast before heading off to work. This means that I can make sure I have all the food I need for me and my family to eat without having to rush to the supermarket to find something to eat between my first course!

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jungkookienoona · 7 years ago

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The Meme and His Tutor

Part 36: The Time The Bangtan Got Drunk

Co-written with @jiminieblush

Recommended Song: That’s My Jam by B.A.P

|All Chapters|Masterlist|

Summary:

Food shopping and Timberlands, what more could the day bring?

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 7143

Length: 36/?

With the album release happening soon, you were pretty surprised to find Jungkook outside your door with Namjoon and Jin in tow. Without an explanation, you were convinced to change out of your pyjamas and into warmer clothes; the weather was getting progressively colder as winter was drawing nearer. The three men entertained Miri while you bundled up and slipped on a pair of tired looking boots.

"Where are we going?"

Jungkook scratched behind Miri's ear, gushing over her cuteness with Namjoon. You were glad those two had patched things up.

"Shopping. I was thinking just food but it looks like you need boots too."

You looked down at the scuffed up toes of your boots and frowned at the peeling leather. "I've been saving up for a pair of Timberlands like yours, Kookie."

There was a groan from Jin as he rolled his eyes. "Of course Jungkook's girlfriend is also into Timbs."

Your nose scrunched as you scowled. "They're sturdy and good for winter! They also provide great ankle support."

Jungkook turned his attention away from Miri. "I’ll buy you a pair- an early birthday present."

You caught Namjoon nodding out of the corner of your eye. "There's a hole in your right sole. That'll be no good if it rains."

A glance at the bottom of your foot confirmed that there was indeed a hole in the heel, a stone wedged inside. You bent down and picked the stone out before glancing at Jungkook.

"You've already spent so much money on me."

He gave Miri one final pat before straightening up and making his way over to you. He wrapped the ends of your scarf around his fists and gave them a gentle tug.

"I'm buying my Jagi a birthday present even if you refuse."

You pouted. "You don't have to buy me expensive presents. I appreciate sentimental value over monetary value."

He smiled and pecked you on the forehead. "I'll get you a matching pair, a couples item."

Jin clearing his throat made you step away from each other, and you went about checking you had everything ready to shop.

Namjoon held your front door open, and you slipped your hand into Jungkook's as you walked down to the car. Idle chit chat happened between Jin and Namjoon as they discussed the upcoming comeback. Though they made sure not to go into too much detail as you had told them you didn't want it spoiled for you. You were still an ARMY, after all. Jungkook hummed quietly to himself, a small smile on his lips.

You squeezed his fingers to get his attention. "You seem happy."

He shrugged. "I am happy. Tired... But happy."

Down in the underground car park, Jin and Namjoon climbed into the front seats while Jungkook opened the backdoor for you.

"Well... after shopping maybe you and I can curl up and have a hot chocolate."

He beamed at you. "Can I sleep over too?"

You ran a mental check of the following day's schedule. The only thing that came to mind was an online lecture. But that wasn't until late afternoon.

"Sure. As long as you remember to pick up your pjs."

"I'll buy some bottoms while we're out."

You smiled and buckled yourself in. Jin started up the car and Namjoon connected his phone up to the stereo via Bluetooth, sparking a conversation between him and Jungkook about the artist which was playing. It was great to see they had patched things up, especially with Jungkook getting his own studio. Namjoon had always been someone Jungkook looked up to and admired so maybe Namjoon would take him under his wing and guide him.

Before you knew it, Jin was turning off a main road and into what seemed to be a more residential area of the city. Skyscrapers lingered a few miles away but for the most part you were surrounded by low rise businesses and housing.

He pulled into a supermarket car park and cut the engine.

"Alright everyone, masks and hats."

You looked around a little surprised, having forgotten that as idols they probably needed to disguise themselves when doing everyday stuff. Jungkook's somewhat carefree attitude towards your public outings had become the norm to you which meant you didn’t have either item. But you were once again surprised when Jungkook pulled out two of each. He slipped on a black beanie and handed a red one to you. Coincidentally, it matched your scarf.

You took one of the black masks and hooked it over your ears before pulling the hat on. You made a mental note to find the kitten mask Jungkook had given you many months ago.

"It’s sad we have to hide your pretty face, Jagi."

You shrugged. "I'm more upset I can't see yours."

You could just make out the signs of his bunny grin as his nose and cheeks crinkled.

"Okay, okay, split it up love birds. We got shit to do." Namjoon said, turning to face you, one hand grasping the back of Jin's seat.

Jungkook chuckled before settling back into his seat.

Jin looked to the leader. "What's the plan?"

Namjoon scratched his cheek in thought. "Y/N, you and Jungkook get the groceries for your apartment. Hyung and I will shop for the dorm."

You nodded, opening the door to hop out, swiftly followed by Jungkook and his hyungs. They fixed their masks into place and you began towards the entrance.

You took your phone out when inside and opened up the start of a shopping list you'd been compiling over the past few days.

"This is going to be expensive isn't it?"

Jungkook just silently patted you on the shoulder in consolation. You glanced behind you and pointed to the trolleys.

"That shall be needed."

Jungkook went over to get one and skid back over to you. "Hop in."

"No."

He pouted like a toddler denied of sweets. "Please~ Jagi."

You shook your head. He wasn't going to get you to sit in the trolley again like he had when you got the re-decoration supplies. He sagged against the trolley handle but didn't push you any further.

You looked down at the list then at the signs above the aisles. "First thing: milk."

He perked up. "You should get banana milk. It's cheaper than regular milk."

"I'm here to fuel my addiction not yours,” You mumbled, starting off away from the entrance.

He made a noise of complaint but followed along behind you until you reached the dairy aisle. You picked up your preferred choice of milk and quickly converted Korean won into British pounds.

"Jesus Christ! 2 pints of milk here costs the same as 4 back home!"

He pulled a face as if to say 'I told you so' and grabbed a carton of soy and banana milk.

"These are the cheapest. I suggest banana cause it tastes better."

You looked between the both of them and took the banana milk from his hand, placing it in the trolley with the regular milk.

"I'm willing to give the banana milk a try, but for today I'm still buying my normal milk."

He put the soy milk back on the shelf and turned to you with a cheeky grin. "Soon you will join me in the banana milk loving ways."

You scoffed. "I doubt it. It's full fat or nothing for me, baby."

You saw his eyes widen at the pet-name and you smirked beneath your mask. That reaction was priceless.

"Jagi, what's next?"

You looked back down at your list. Maybe you should've picked up these items as you passed them looking for the milk...

"I want to try and make my own Kimchi so the spice doesn't kill me."

Jungkook looked at you fondly, probably remembering your first trip to Korea. Your own mind went back to your near-death experience at the dinner table in the dorm.

"We don't want that to happen do we? I'll lead the way."

You followed along beside him through the store until he turned down the spice aisle. He slowed down to eye-up the shelves and shelves of product. You watched as he reached up and plucked a small, resealable bag of chilli flakes off the shelf.

"This should last you a while as you won't need much... at least to meet your taste requirements."

He smirked as you crossed your arms childishly. "It’s not my fault I grew up eating bland food."

He placed the packet in the trolley. "I'm sure after a while your taste buds will grow accustomed to it."

You grumbled to yourself as he led you down more aisles, picking up baechu cabbage, asian chives, spring onions, daikon radish and other necessities. He then led you to an aisle full of containers.

"These are what you make kimchi in nowadays. It used to be in earthenware pots but they're heavy and breakable. Though some still use them."

You put a few in the trolley. "Anything else you think I need?"

"Fish sauce though you could use a light soy sauce instead. And most normally have a small bit of meat or fish included."

You screwed your face up despite your mask hiding it from view. You added the bottle of soy sauce to the growing pile in the trolley.

"Definitely no meat for me."

Jungkook nodded to your phone, "Anything else you need?"

"Just some uh... feminine things..."

"Oh..." His hand went to the back of his neck as it usually did when he felt awkward. "I don't know where they are..."

You thanked god that your mask was covering your blush.

"Looks like we're going on a mini adventure... though you don't have to come into the aisle with me. I know it makes some guys...awkward."

He shifted on his feet but shook his head. "No, no. It's fine. You're my Jagi. I wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if I didn't know about those...things."

You were shocked to say the least. "O-oh! Yeah... true..."

The two of you looked at each other before looking away. He turned to grab the trolley. "Come on then..."

"It'll probably be near the shampoo section."

He wandered away and you followed behind, checking down every aisle until you recognised the colourful boxes and packets on the shelves.

"BunBun, wait! You walked past."

He skidded to a stop and spun in a circle, coming back over to you.

You gulped as you led him down the aisle. You had never bought or even mentioned feminine products around men before, only having heard through friends that the men in their lives didn’t care much or wanted anything to do with the ‘grossness’ of feminine hygiene. It seemed Jungkook was awkward, but willing to accept that fact of life.

You'd stopped to scan the wall of products to decipher what you needed. You were very much aware of Jungkook fidgeting, picking at the string of his mask.

"I'll try to be as fast as possible."

"D-d-don't worry about it. Take as long as you need."

Your need to translate the Korean slowed you down but you soon found what you needed among the large selection of choices. You went on your tiptoes to grab them but only succeeded in pushing them further away towards the back of the shelf. Fuck. You were too short. Typical. You let out a grunt of frustration but a hand on your shoulder and a warm body pressing against your back startled you.

"I've got it, Kitten."

Jungkook reached up and grabbed the packet with ease.

"Just one?"

"Two please." You always liked back ups.

He got another and tossed them into the trolley, mumbling to himself something too low for your ears.

"What was that?"

His head whipped around. "Hm? Oh, nothing. I'm singing."

You narrowed your eyes but didn't push it.

"Is that all you needed?"

You checked your list.

"Just a few more bits and bobs."

Jungkook gave your hand a gentle tug as he sped up towards the lit up store front. You glanced behind at Namjoon and Jin who were too busy chatting to notice you advancing.

"BunBun, slow down." You giggled when he picked up the pace.

He immediately slowed. "Sorry. I'm just excited."

"I'm just getting a pair of shoes."

He let out a scandalised gasp, eyes blowing wide.

"Just buying a pair of shoes? We're getting your first pair of Timbs."

You rolled your eyes with a giggle.

"How long have you wanted to do this?"

"Since I knew I loved you."

"Yeah right."

"Are you doubting me? I never lie about anything to do with Timberlands."

You gasped in mock shock, a hand to your heart.

"What about me?!"

He glanced around before quickly lowering his mask and pressing a kiss to your cheek before fixing the mask back in place.

"Or you, Kitten."

Your brief exchange gave Namjoon and Jin enough time to catch up.

"I wonder if the store staff are going to recognise you Jungkookie. You're a regular customer after all." Namjoon joked, nudging the youngest with his elbow.

Jungkook turned to you. "I'll introduce you, Jagi. They might give you discount if you go in again without me."

"And here I thought you did most of your shopping online."

He shrugged. "I usually do. But for Timbs I make the exception."

He sent you a wink and pushed open the door to the store. A member of male member of staff looked towards the entrance as you walked through and beamed.

"Jungkook-ssi! Nice to see you again! And you brought company!"

The staff member nodded to Namjoon and Jin who raised a hand in a wave. Jungkook gave your hand a light squeeze.

"This is my Jagi, Y/N."

They awed. "Aren't you both just adorable. What brings our best customer here today?"

Jungkook pointed down to your worn out boots. "I refuse to let her walk around in those abominations any longer."

You shuffled in the trusty boots.

The staff sighed. "So what are we thinking? Classic tan...black...something colourful and exciting?"

Jungkook pulled down his mask. "I was thinking maybe she could have a pair that matches mine."

"That still leaves a lot of options." They laughed as they gestured for you to follow them. He led you over to the back wall where every height and shade of Timberland boot was on display.

"How about a pair that matches your classic tan pair?"

Jungkook shook his head.

"What about a matching silver pair?"

"I was thinking about getting her a black pair. They'll go with most of her clothes."

The staff member turned to you, a black pair in one hand and the tan in the other.

"What do you want?"

You took a moment to think.

"Black. They'll go well with the 3 dresses I own and everything else."

The staff put the tan shoe back and asked for your size before disappearing out the back to find a pair. Meanwhile, the four of you wandered around the store. You giggled as Jungkook practically bunny bounced from display to display. Namjoon admonished him for behaving childishly in public.

"But Oppa, look at him.” You spoke up, watching Jungkook with a goofy smile on your own face. “He looks like such a baby. Those overalls, the glasses and that striped sweater!"

Namjoon chuckled. "He does look like an oversized toddler."

Jungkook turned and stuck his tongue out at his leader. His beanie making him look even more like a toddler.

"My baby boy."

Jungkook spluttered and Namjoon smirked.

"Aw, hear that Jungkookie? Your noona says you're her baby boy."

You smothered a giggle as Jungkook pulled his mask back up but not quick enough to hide his reddening cheeks. The staff member returned with a box to the sound of Jin and Namjoon's laughter. Your own cackles spilled out at the staff member’s confused expression.

"She's definitely the one for you Jungkook-ssi."

Your boyfriend walked back over and wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"She is… Jagi sit down and try them on."

You did as he said, feeling rather self-conscious about how worn out your beloved boots looked. They were about to go into retirement. The staff handed you the Timbs and you slipped them on, standing up and stomping to make sure your foot was thoroughly inside. You wiggled your toes and paced around the store until eventually giving the staff member a thumbs up.

"Glad you like them, will you be wearing them out of the store?"

You nodded.

"Okay. If you could come up to the till please so we can get those paid for."

You hesitated for a moment. "How much will they be exactly?"

"Those are 247,500₩, miss."

Blood drained from your face as your brain did the maths. £170 for a pair of boots?! You looked up when you felt a hand against your lower back. Jungkook stepped forward already holding his wallet.

"I'm paying."

The staff member gave you a smile and nodded to the till point. Jungkook went to follow him when you grabbed his wrist.

"Kookie… they're too much."

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I don't mind, Kitten. Let me spoil you."

You pouted but let him walk away to pay and sat down with a huff.

The seat dipped next to you. "He said they're an early birthday present, Y/N." Jin said with a smile. "It's rude not to accept gifts from others."

"But he's already spent so much money on me. My two trips here, my moving here, all my signed merch and lets not forget my allowance is a portion of his earnings."

He rest a hand on your shoulder. "He's doing it because he loves you and wants you to be happy."

You sighed. You didn't need all the gifts and presents to be happy. You could understand the move. But all the rest was unnecessary.

"I feel so guilty about him spending so much on me. I wish I could repay him..."

Namjoon sat down on the other side of you. "Our Kookie isn't that good at expressing his emotions with words so he does it with actions instead. Your love, affection and reassurance is more than enough repayment in his eyes."

You looked between the two of them then down at your new boots.

"Thanks...I guess I'm not used to such generosity. I'm so grateful...for everything."

The two nodded in understanding but stayed quiet when they noticed Jungkook returning.

"All paid for! We can head back now."

Handing over your shopping bags to Jungkook, you dug around in your bag for your keys. You made a small noise of victory when you found them and shoved them into the lock. Twisting the key, you heard the lock click and turned the handle to swing the door open. You were met by a chorus of "Surprise!" causing your little group except Jin to jump in shock.

"Holy shit!" You shouted in reply before spotting a familiar but out of place face amongst Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi and Hoseok. Chubs.

"HOLY SHIT!"

She stepped around Taehyung and practically skipped towards you with a grin.

"Hi~" She opened her arms for a hug and you walked into her embrace.

"H-how...what the fuck are you doing here?!"

"I'm here for your house warming... and for Jungkook-oppa and Namjoon-oppa's birthday party."

You turned to Jungkook for an explanation but he looked as confused as you felt.

"Surprise!...again." Shouted Taehyung and Jimin.

Jin ushered Jungkook and Namjoon into the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

"We felt bad that we never celebrated your birthdays properly due to comeback preparations. Yoongi suggested we throw one big party before the album release."

Jungkook still looked confused. "But we did celebrate my birthday."

Taehyung shook his head. "No, you celebrated your birthday. You didn't give us a chance to."

"And you said how you regretted not throwing a housewarming party for Y/N." Jimin added.

Hoseok continued where Jimin left off. "So Yoongi-hyung suggested we throw one big party. Jimin got Chubs’ KaKaoID off Jungkook's phone while he was asleep and had Jin-hyung translate the messages back and forth."

You looked to Chubs who had turned a light shade of pink.

"I wondered why you never replied to my messages last night."

She shrugged. "Sorry...I didn't have Wi-Fi on the flight."

From the corner of your eye you noticed Jungkook smile before heading off into the kitchen with your bags of shopping. Jin followed him while Namjoon went over to take a seat with the other members, leaving you and Chubs to talk.

"Thank you for coming all the way here. You must be exhausted."

She waved you off and explained how she'd slept a bit on the flight and in the car when Jimin and Yoongi picked her up.

You glanced aside at Jimin who was laughing at something Namjoon had said.

"I'm surprised you're as chill as you are stood in the same room as your bias."

"Trust me, I'm freaking out on the inside. Is this how you felt when you first came to Korea?"

You nodded. "Definitely. I thought I was dreaming."

Chubs sighed and glanced over her shoulder at the members spread out across the living room as if they owned the place. "You're the only thing stopping me from pinching myself right now."

"I think your lack of fluency in Korean would be another indicator that this isn't a dream."

Her already pink cheeks darkened a shade. "Oh god...I got lost in the airport 'cause I misread a sign. It was so embarrassing."

You laughed and patted her on the back in sympathy before confusion set in.

"Didn't they pick you up?"

She nodded pressing the palms of her hands to her cheeks in embarrassment. "This was on my way to baggage claim."

You started to laugh. "On your way to baggage claim? You just follow the crowd of people from your flight!"

"I don't even know what happened. I just got lost and had to be escorted to the baggage claim and was ten minutes late meeting them. I feel so embarrassed."

It couldn't be helped, more laughter bubbled out of you only interrupted by Jungkook wrapping his arm around your waist, obviously done in the kitchen. You caught sight of Jin also walking back into the living room.

"Guess what I found in there?"

He raised a bottle of peach flavoured makgeolli.

You grinned. "Is there more?"

He nodded and turned to Chubs. "Do you want one too, or do you already have a drink?"

She cleared her throat. "Uhm, no. That would be nice thank you."

The three of you went into the kitchen to find yourself drinks. You realised Jungkook had put most of the food away but left a bag in the corner away from the rest. You snuck a look inside and quickly put it in your bedroom. You didn't need the members looking for food and finding your feminine products instead. Upon entering your bedroom, you saw a ball of white fluff curled up on your bed. Miri. So that's where she was. You would have to bring in her food and water later.

You had to wonder where the alcohol came from, though that was answered when you walked back into the kitchen.

"We went into the corner store for snacks then Yoongi-oppa waltzed up to us with a basket full of alcohol... Is he the reason you're not allowed to through many parties?" Chubs asked as she looked through the fridge.

Jungkook got three glasses down from a cupboard and placed them on the worktop.

"Uhm, he's part of the reason..."

"Only part? What's the rest of the reason?" You asked, looking over Chubs' shoulder. Your eyes widened at the sight of a whole shelf packed with bottles of alcohol. Jesus, they planned to drink a lot.

You heard him hum. "We, uh, we've had noise complaints. Some of us can get a bit...loud."

Your stomach dropped, you didn't want any noise complaints...you’d just moved in!

"Maybe we should keep the alcohol to a minimum..."

Chubs hummed in agreement and closed the fridge. The two of you turned back to Jungkook who held out two glasses of the peachy drink.

"We've learnt our lesson. We'll be fine."

You side eyed him, somewhat doubting what he said but took the glass from him nonetheless. Chubs also accepted the drink and you both took a sip.

"Oo, it's fruity!" Chubs stated.

You took another sip, a little uncertain about the taste. Jungkook was watching you, eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Do you like it?"

"It tastes... nice..."

His face lit up in a smile, chuckles causing his shoulders to shake.

"I wonder if it cannibalism for a peach to drink a peach flavoured beverage."

You broke out into a fit of coughs which only made Jungkook smirk. Chubs shook her head while patting you on the back, seemingly unfazed.

"K-Kookie!" You choked out. "I-I'm not-t a p-peach!"

He raised a brow. "That's what you think. You don't have my view."

Your jaw dropped, momentarily stunned.

Chubs giggled. "Did you drink some of the makgeolli before asking us to try it?"

He made a pinching gesture to show he'd had a little. "I sipped it. Surprisingly, I've never had this before either."

You face palmed. One sip changed his behaviour already. You were about to reprimand him when the other members came barging in, locating the other bottles of alcohol effortlessly. Even Namjoon and Jin seemed to know where some were. Once everyone had a drink, you all began back into the living room.

Jin caught your arm just as you were about to leave the kitchen.

"Can I bring food into the living room? I thought I'd ask incase you were worried about us making a mess."

You could tell he was the hyung; when he wasn't messing around he was very responsible for the group.

"Uh, yeah sure. Just... be careful. I don't want stains on my carpet."

He nodded and proceeded to look through your cupboards. You noticed that some of the things him and Namjoon had bought for 'the dorm' were in there. Jin must've used the cover of shopping for the dorm to make Namjoon less suspicious too since the party was also for his birthday.

"Do you need any help?" He waved you off so you left him to it and joined the others in the living room.

Music blared as laughter filled the air. Jimin had collapsed over the arm of the sofa as Taehyung hugged your fake potted plant, calling it his wife. Namjoon was trying to talk to a drowsy Yoongi about the meaning of life. And Jungkook... Jungkook was clinging to you while you wiggled in his arms as his hands ran over the exposed skin of your stomach.

"You're so soft. How are you so soft?"

Giggles bubbled out of you uncontrollably whenever he touched a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

"BunBun~"

A giggle from a tipsy Chubs caught your attention. It seemed like Hoseok was trying to start a dance off with her. Though there was a language barrier, he was somewhat successful in getting his message across. Jungkook turned to look in the same direction, a smirk appearing as he looked back to you. He let go of you and wobbled before climbing onto your coffee table.

"Kookie, what are you-"

You were cut off by a loud whoop from Hoseok who grabbed the TV remote and turned up the volume of the Beyonce song playing on the music channel.

"Oh my god..."

You stared transfixed as Jungkook began to... twerk in front of you. His jiggling booty directly in your line of sight. His childish laughter was a clear sign that he was enjoying himself. You couldn't believe your eyes. There was your cute and dorky boyfriend, dressed in a striped sweater and denim overalls, shaking what his mama gave him like there's no tomorrow.

"Woo~ Go Jungkookie!" Taehyung yelled from his spot in the corner which only encouraged Jungkook to stop his booty shaking to swing his arms above his head as he spun around to face you.

"Kitten~ you should have a go!"

"No."

"But it's my birthday party!" Jungkook pouted.

"It's my house warming!"

He pushed his bottom lip out even further and made grabby hands towards you. He was an absolute baby. Your Baby Boy.

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Jimin began to chant from the sofa. He reached over and pushed against your shoulder. "Goo~"

Jungkook continued with his grabby hands and you couldn't help but give in. Once on the table with him, you noticed Chubs slipping into an empty spot next to Jimin.

The smile that had slipped on your lips disappeared the second you felt a pair of hands on your hips making you sway in time with the beat.

"Jagi~ dance with me."

"I-I don't dance."

"She's lying!"

Your head snapped around to see Jin shaking his head at you. "You danced at BigHit with us so you can dance now!"

"Is this not your kind of song Jagi?"

Jungkook reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The music on the TV stopped as YouTube came up. He must have connected his phone to your TV. His fingers danced over his keyboard for a second as he thought of a song before quickly typing in 'Black Out' by VIXX.

There was a cheer from someone, you didn't care to see who as the song began to play. A funky beat started and you felt your hips rocking to it of their own accord. Fuck. That boy knew you too well. Speaking of, his face nestled into your neck and you could practically feel his smile.

"Who knew you liked such a... sensual song, Kitten."

One of your hands found its way to the back of his neck and lightly pinched at his skin.

"Don't push it." You mumbled. "I'm only dancing because I can't say no to how adorable you look right now."

"Adorable? I'd rather you call me handsome but I'll take what I can get."

"You are absolutely adorkable."

He huffed in amusement, placing a kiss on your neck that had you squeaking in shock. He raised his head to giggle. A little tipsy yourself, you couldn't help but smile.

"Yah! Loverbirds! We're waiting for a show!" Namjoon shouted.

"Yeah!"

Your cheeks became heated as you shot a glare at Chubs. Jungkook's hands on your waist coaxed you into swaying with him. Your cheeks became even more heated as the chorus kicked in and the lyrics 'I'm thinking your body' rang out clearly through the room. Words couldn't explain how embarrassed you were, and if you weren't as tipsy as you were you wouldn't have even stepped foot on the coffee table to begin with. Your phone vibrating in your pocket temporarily distracted you, though you kept rocking. It was a Vlive notification. BTS had gone live? You tapped on it only to be greeted to the sight of yourself and Jungkook dancing on the table.

"You're broadcasting this?!"

Taehyung laughed, plant hugged to him with one arm while his other hand held up his phone. Jungkook stole a look at your phone before turning so you were facing away from Taehyung.

"How many people are watching?"

There was a pause. "Ten thousand- wait...thirty thousand."

Thirty fucking thousand ARMYs were watching you pressed up against Jungkook.

"Hyung!" Jungkook turned you around and pressed your face into his neck to try and hide you. "This isn't how I wanted ARMY to meet my Jagi."

The two of you stopped dancing and you heard the volume of the music decrease as the sound of voices grew louder.

You lifted your head to see Namjoon get out of his seat and head over to Taehyung.

"Make it front facing. Make it front facing." There was a pause, presumably switching the camera, "ARMY! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY PARTY!"

With Namjoon occupying the Vlive audience, you grabbed Jungkook's hand and pulled him off the coffee table. You fell onto the sofa next to Chubs who was giggling into her glass of drink.

"I hate you lot."

Jungkook once again wrapped an arm around you, his other hand stroking through your hair. That must've been an effect of drinking, he wasn't normally so... handsy. You snuggled against his chest, wanting to make yourself as small as possible so that if the phone was turned back to you they wouldn't see you.

Chubs groaned and pushed you back when your wiggling caused her to shove up against Jimin. Jimin gave her a shy smile while you mumbled out an apology.

"Yah! It's Jungkook's birthday party too... And Y/N's house warming!" Jin shouted, walking out of the kitchen with yet more snacks.

Jin placed the food on the coffee table and squished himself between Namjoon and Taehyung to greet the audience.

"Y/N, ARMY say they wanna see you!"

"They just saw me dancing against Jungkook." You mumbled, "I'm too embarrassed."

Jimin took Taehyung's phone and passed it to Hoseok who knelt down in front of you and Jungkook.

"Our Y/N-ie is shy~ And Jungkookie is hiding her face. I think he doesn't want to share her."

Jungkook's arms tightened around your frame and you felt his chin come to rest on the top of your head.

"She's my Jagi. No one can have her."

"ARMY aren't going to steal her." Jimin said before downing the last of his drink.

You felt Jungkook press a kiss to the top of your head and you giggled into his chest, still not wanting to show your face to however many fans watching.

"They can't steal her because I'm here to protect her."

There was an 'aw, cute' from beside you and you stuck your foot out to nudge Chubs.

"What was that Kookie? You just spoke in English."

"I said I'm here to protect her so she can't be stolen."

This time you were met with a chorus of 'aw's from the members.

"Look at the comments! ARMY really want to meet her officially."

A beat of silence.

"My Jagi has bad anxiety though... I don't want to force her." His voice had taken a childish tone, definitely pouting. He was your baby.

With a deep breath you raised your head and shifted so you weren't tucked into Jungkook's side but leaning against him.

Hoseok gave a small cheer and angled the phone so more of you was in it.

"Say hi to ARMY!"

"H-hi... hello. I'm Y-Y-Y/N.”

Hoseok made a noise of amazement when the comment section began to fly up the screen. Your stomach twisted anxiously as you managed to catch sight of your name in a few of the comments.

Jungkook leant forward. "Waaah~ They're all so excited to finally meet you! Even Japanese fans!"

Japanese fans?

"Really? Oyasuminasai minna-san (Good evening everyone)."

The room went silent as everyone turned to stare at you.

"What?"

"You can speak Japanese?!" Jungkook's eyes were wide, sparkling with amazement.

"A bit... I'm still learning."

"Jagi! We can learn together!"

You grinned at him and nodded, momentarily forgetting about the audience watching you talk. "That sounds like fun BunBun!"

"How much do you know?"

"Not a lot..."

A shit eating grin appeared on his face. "I guess I'll be the teacher this time... Until you catch up with me."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "But you were my teacher when I was learning Korean."

"Oh... oh yeah!"

You laughed. He must have forgotten due to drinking. A whine from across the room drew you attention away from Jungkook.

"Hyung~ Gimme my phone~ I wanna talk to ARMY." Taehyung had since led down on the floor, but still had an arm curled around the plant pot. He really loved that plant.

A few bottles of Soju later and Taehyung was hugging the toilet as well as the plant, having dragged the thing with him across the apartment. Yoongi was asleep in the bathtub for some reason. Namjoon was asleep with his head in Jin's lap and Hoseok was collapsed in the hallway, one hand outstretched towards the door. A finger was pressed to your lips when you giggled at the sight of a sleeping Chubs slumped against Jimin’s shoulder, a bag of open snacks crushed between them.

"Jagi~ Shush." Jungkook whispered as you headed towards your bedroom.

"But whhhy~? We can... we can take pictures of them!"

"Shhhh~"

He twisted the handle and swung the door to your room open. You both awed at the sight of Miri still asleep on the bed, Jungkook entered the room first to move her off. You giggled again and leapt onto your bed, bouncing for a second at the impact. Turning onto your back, you made grabby hands at Jungkook.

"Come here KooKoo. Your Jagi wants you to join her."

He shut the door before crawling onto the bed. You let out a groan when he collapsed on top of you, wiggling to get comfy.

"Mmm, I love you~ So so much. I hope you had fun today."

He nuzzled into your neck, making a content noise while you huffed.

"Move. Need. Air."

"No~" He whined. "Wanna cuddle."

You managed to sneak a hand between your bodies and push against his shoulder. His drunken state made rolling him over easier than expected and then it was your turn to collapse on top of him.

"Jagiya~"

He was such a whiny baby. But he was your baby. The whining was kinda cute though.

You shifted to rest your head in his neck, mirroring his previous position. His hands were warm on your lower back having sneaked beneath your t-shirt to trace patterns on your skin.

"Did you enjoy your party too, Baby?"

He nodded. "Of course, you, Bangtan and ARMY were there!"

He pecked you on the lips. You pulled away with a smile and booped your nose against his.

"Your friends...they're funny...what if Tae-oppa runs away with my plant?"

He shook his head. "KooKoo will chase him down. And they're your friends too."

"I know, but they were your friends first."

Another peck. "Doesn't matter. We share them now."

"So you can share them but not me?!"

"I don't love them the same way I love you."

Your lips spread into a goofy smile which he mirrored, eyes scrunching up as his nose wrinkled.

"I love you too my adorkable BunBun."

This time you leant up and pressed a kiss to his lips, lingering longer than a mere peck. Your lips moved to his cheek as you took a breath before lightly kissing his nose. Giggles bubbled out of him as you continued to litter kisses across his skin, pulling back every few pecks just to see his eyes sparkle in amusement. Then your lips found his again, moving at a leisurely pace, enjoying the sensation. It had been so long since you felt like you could share this side of you with someone. That you could trust someone enough.

Your mind was a little fuzzy due to the alcohol, but you remembered a mental note you'd made while making out in his studio. You slipped a hand into his hair and gave the short strands a gentle tug. A moan slipped past his lips and you relished in the sound. It was music to your ears. You wanted to hear more of that sound, the sound that sent your heart into a flurry. Made your thoughts blurry. Some part of you, a part you buried out of fear of others, sparked up in the back of your mind. A part of you that had missed the physical intimacy. You hadn't wanted to seclude and hide yourself from those you loved but... but you had to keep yourself safe. Jungkook was a miraculous respite from that paranoia. You made a small noise of protest when he broke the kiss to catch his breath.

Wanting to hang onto the moment for a touch longer, you began littering kisses across his cheek and jaw. You gave his hair another, but slightly harder, tug so his head was at an angle that gave you better access to his neck.

"N-Noona..."

Beautiful. Just as beautiful as you thought it would be. You nipped harshly at a particularly sensitive area, teasing more delicious moans from him. This wasn't like you though. Sober you wouldn't be so hasty or careless. But you weren't sober in that moment.

"J-jagi, we... we need to stop. We're drunk."

You hummed but didn't pull away.

"Y/N..."

You pressed one final kiss to his neck before raising your head with a pout.

"But I don't wanna."

He ran his fingers through your hair, taking a deep breath.

"We're drunk. If you were sober we wouldn't be doing this... We both need to be sober and ready before we go any further..." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I want to keep you safe and happy."

"But I am."

"No. No you're not. You're vulnerable. We both are."

You held his gaze for a few seconds until you felt yourself start to get lost in those deep brown eyes of his. You shook yourself out of it. He was right. You were drunk.

"I... I'm sorry. God I'm sorry. I-I keep ending up in these situations. I'm such an idiot-"

"It's not your fault. It is never your fault." He shifted to cradle your head to his chest. "You are never to blame for the actions of others. If people can't control themselves around those who are vulnerable then they are less than people. Now let's sleep. I'm sobering up."

The two of you moved to lie beneath the duvet, pulling it right up beneath your chins to stay warm.

"You talk too much when drunk." You mumbled.

You felt his chuckle rumble in his chest. "You're pouty when drunk."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Look at you being adorable."

He'd lightly pinched your cheeks and jiggled them, making him burst into giggles.

You pushed his hands away. "I'm not adorable! I'm a badass!"

"I would be convinced if it weren't for your slight slur."

You slapped his chest and turned away from him. "Fuck you. I'm going to sleep."

"Finally."

You huffed and used the light streaming in through your open curtains to find your Kookie bear. You clutched him to your chest and buried your nose into his fur.

Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against him.

"Goodnight, Yeobo.”

#boop #tmaht #jungkook #jungkooknet #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jeon jeongkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan scenario

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transcendingsky · 7 years ago

Photo

Photos dating from March 26, 2018. This was the first town we reached on our journey, after a long day of getting adjusted to what our life would be like for the next fifteen days, butts glued to the seat of our two wheels. The confidence of the first couple hours quickly dropped as we left the border town of Tecun Uman and sunk into the beginning of the aches and pains. We made a quick stop on the way out, to check out a giant sculpture of a turtle signifying the area of Ayutla. Agreeing to continue trying to do my practice of one backflip a day, I found a nice grassy area to attempt one. I found myself floating high in the air, which felt like my best backflip the whole time I had been in the country. The weight of our bags for the first half hour of the trip made me feel springier as ever.

For the final stretch of the day, we followed the highway up a somewhat steep incline heading towards the town of Coatepeque, which is the place shown in the photos. One of the more odd experiences of the first half of the trip was passing by all the stops we had blown past on our bus journey to the starting point at the border. As we approached the town, I remember how hectic the place had looked and that feeling combined with the first real uphill section we had encountered had me feeling a tad defeated. I pushed harder still as I tried to keep up with Sarah who was already quite a ways ahead of me.

We sat in the practically nonexistent parking space in front of the Maxi Despensa supermarket, trying to recover for about half an hour or so while surrounded by the hectic hustle and bustle of what seemed to be the center of that area of the town. After what felt like a moment of acceptance of what we had actually undertaken, we headed out to find some actual food which we had been lacking that day. Happily finding an Asian food place with vegetarian options, we began the routine of stuffing our faces with calories, followed by crashing out in a random park for another half hour or so.

Finally feeling somewhat rejuvenated, we set out to find the railroad tracks that went through the town, which were the significance of the journey in the first place. The first photo you see above, is the abandoned train station that used to serve the town. I probably need to do a whole other write up about the significance of the train in Guatemala, but for now you just need to understand that these stations sort of served as guide markers, or checkpoints for us. They had been abandoned for decades and were just remnants of a time when the country had existed in a much more prosperous era. This is the first real one we encountered on the trip, as the one in Tecun Uman had been entirely fenced off within a huge radius. You can see the old sign depicting the name of the town, how many miles from the border and how many miles to Guatemala City. The usage of miles is one of many details that marks the hand of the the United States in the construction of the tracks.

This station also happened to be fenced off, but there were signs of people who seemed to be living inside. Approaching the gate, we saw a security guard who refused to let us check out the inside. This encounter was just the first of seemingly many people who we tried to explain the significance of our project to but simply refused to allow us to continue. Funnily enough, as we just went around the side of the building there was a huge section of the wall missing and you could just walk inside, as you can see in the second photo.

Inside the walls was an area consisting of a huge empty field, with two makeshift futbol goals and with a bunch of people crossing through the area. What even was the point of the guard being there in that case? I laughed at the absurdity of the situation and noticed to the right a huge rusted water tower. A lot of the stations along the tracks had these sort of towers which originally provided steam for the trains to run. I quickly ran over and began climbing the ladder to the top, which provided a great vantage point over everything. There was a hatch door that opened to a blackness inside, but I decided against climbing down into it as we were losing daylight and still needed to find somewhere to camp.

Following the tracks out of the city into the jungle, we came across the first of many makeshift communities who had taken up homes along the more rural areas of the line. There were basically whole other cities out here, of people who lived with even less and just had what they needed to live away from the bigger towns. Certainly we drew a lot of looks from the people who had probably never seen two gringos pass through the area. As the sun went down everything felt so much more relaxed as we were away from the craziness of the nearby town.

After biking down these quiet parts which turned from railroad tracks into just dirt paths through the jungle, we happened upon a quiet clearing which seemed to appear just as the sky was darkening. It was perfect for setting up the tent so we hurried to do just that with only a few minutes of light. You can see in the third photo our sleeping spot for that night. After getting comfortable we quickly realized we were both pretty much out of water. It was already dark but we knew it wouldn’t be smart to not restock as we weren’t even sure how far the next town was. We headed back through the night towards the community of squatters near the tracks.

The walk was entirely pitch black, but one of the most peaceful feelings being out there with nothing but jungle. It was such a relief to leave the bikes behind and just move at a slower pace. We walked for about twenty minutes through the night, simply appreciating each other’s company with the occasional Mayan passerby walking to who knows where. After we made it back, we searched out water, which was only sold at the makeshift tiendas in small bags of 250ml I believe. Naturally we bought at least 6 of them, which still isn’t much water. It’s crazy that this is some of their only sources of clean drinking water without making the half hour or so trip into town.

We still hadn’t had food, so we bought some fresh tortillas and a can of beans, which was destined to be a majority of our meals over the next two weeks. We found a guy selling some fresh vegetables which we were happy to add to the meal. He invited us to sit down outside of his house, which was a really crazy sight. This guy had a massive house out in the middle of nowhere in the community of squatters. Sarah began to talk to him in Spanish as he told us his life story, in which he made the treacherous journey to the States and made enough money to come back and build his house in the place he was from. He went to the city a couple times a week to buy the vegetables and sold them to the people in his community. He was just one of many people who we were humbled by on our journey, and we were grateful for the the experience as we made the trip back to our tents. We also rode back part of the way on a pickup truck through the jungle, with a couple guys who were nice enough to take us. Falling asleep in our tents, we felt empowered by the experiences we had encountered in only our first day of the trip.

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twistednuns · 7 years ago

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April 2018

Rediscovering an old passion of mine: The ice. I went to another ice-hockey match the other day and the atmosphere was fantastic - tense, excited, the players were really going for it. Hannes bought me beer and a hot dog and I enganged in friendly banter with the enemy (I wished him a safe trip home to Karlsruhe after Mannheim had lost and he winked at me). I really hope we'll win the semi-finals. I desperately want to go to the final! Ice-hockey brings back childhood memories for me because I used to join my dad who had season tickets for the LA Cannibals. He was allowed to bring children under 6 for free (I think I must have been 6 until I was about 10 years old...) I also saw the movie I, Tonya about the infamous figure skater Tonya Harding on Easter Sunday, sitting alone in the cinema, enjoying my popcorn. I loved this film. The soundtrack is awesome, the acting and the humour are spot-on. A few days later I actually went ice-skating with Korbian (in the EHC Red Bull rink!) and even though my feet still hurt so much that I have to unfasten the ice skates every twenty minutes it was great fun. Water and ice - I'm in my element.

A small present from a sixth-grader: a sticker of a smiling bowl of ramen noodle soup!

I can see that I'm so much fitter now than a few months ago. I can run up a flight of stairs without being out of breath. Not even a bit.

Sewing together all the granny squares I had lying around. The size is still on baby blanket level so just give me a few more years to finish it...

The first warm days. Planting flowers in front of my window (primrose, forget-me-not, buttercups). Setting up the canvas chair. Hanging up the laundry on the balcony. Eating outside, walking over Viktualienmarkt just before sunset. Great light and amazing smells.

Climbing the hill in Olympiapark. Lying in the grass, making out with K., enjoying a spectacular view over the Alps and the city.

Having painted toe nails for the first time after the winter. I especially like O.P.I's Tickle my France-y (and how every nail polish just looks so much prettier under water).

The Describe Yourself Like a Male Author Would Twitter thread: Her breasts entered the room before her far less interesting face, decidedly maternal hips and rounded thighs. He found her voice unpleasantly audible. As his gaze dropped from her mouth (still talking!) to her cleavage, he wondered why feminists were so angry all the time. (stellar example by Jennifer Weiner)

Watching Gegen die Wand by Fatih Akin for the first time. And Frida - seems like I'm quite into biopics considering how much I liked I, Tonya.

Seeing how the cat reacted to Korbinian. She just rolled into a little ball in his palms and he held her in his hands for quite a while. Seems like she prefers men...

Amira Casar is very pretty.

He said I didn't snore!

Unter Glück hatte ich mir eigentlich was anderes vorgestellt.

A new double-ended eyebrow brush.

Talking about that one illustration in Janosch's Post für den Tiger (mole network!) and Lena knew immediately what I meant.

Walking over the playground with Lena and Alexandra. Trying out the seesaw, a carousel and the swings. Climbing a jungle gym, squeezing through the ropes, sliding down (my ass didn't get stuck!!)

Lying outside in the sun on a deck chair after one hour of swimming. Cold at first, very very nice after I was dry. It's incredible how much power the sun already has.

Sore muscles from ice-skating. Hill-climbing. Swimming.

Talking a walk in the Nymphenburg castle grounds. Taking a photo of Magdalenenklause (as always - I think it's fascinating how you can see the reflection of the trees and the blue sky as well as the interior of the chapel and the windows at the far end). Reading at Königsplatz. Buying food at the Asian market and some candy at Pomeroy & Winterbottom. Meeting Lena and Obi, having avocado toast with fried eggs at Holzkranich in Schwabing. All in all a really nice day even though I wasn't in a great mood to begin with.

Trommeln in der Nacht was the best play I've seen at the Kammerspiele so far. I really liked it. I mean, an Australian guy singing pop songs during a classic Brecht play - what can go wrong?

Swimming freestyle laps for the first time! My technique is probably shit but all that matters is that it gets my heart rate up.

Finding four tiny holo stars on a page in a librabry book.

Deciding to ride my bike down to Großhesselohe - I lay around in the sunshine in my bathing suit. And I needed sunscreen for the first time this year! I love the smell of the Garnier sun oil. Felt like summer! Isarkaribik... I also lay across from a nudist guy with a pretty good ass. Doesn't hurt.

Moser Roth lemon yoghurt chocolate.

Getting a bunch of Alstroemeria flowers at the supermarket. They were so pretty and stayed fresh for weeks.

Scene hunting.

The sound of the woodpeckers in the trees outside my apartment.

Delicious recipes for all kinds of wraps in the latest issue of Schrot und Korn.

Walking barefoot.

Meeting two huge, fat cats on my evening walk over the fields. Seeing the illuminated living rooms, watching people having dinner, wondering if they actually like each other. The smell of the first blossoming trees. The view over the forest after sunset, watching planes rise above the clouds. The sound of last year's leaves in the wind. Still some traces of light left. Seeing a hedgehog behind a garden fence.

How interested the cat was in the little blooming twig I brought home from a walk.

Reading so incredibly much.

Reading, yes, again - reading about Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes in Connie Palmen's Du sagst es. It's a fictional autobiography of Hughes. All these feelings, so much drama and a life for literature.

Another evening walk (I like them best) - lying down in the big nest swing at the playground. Finding a pile of free give-aways on a bench, taking home paper plates (I use them for acrylic paints).

Trauringe have only one letter more than traurige.

Going to work by tram on a sunny morning. A book in my lap, eating fruit salad. Seeing the city in a different light and discovering places I had never seen before because I usually only go there by night (for example the square/monument left of the Isar near Müllersches Volksbad).

The fact that the laundry dries in a matter of hours on the balcony now.

Taking a random library book to read on my way to work. Reading the passage "Es war April, der Monat, der von T.S. Eliot zum grausamsten unter seinesgleichen gekürt wurde, und es war Freitag, der dreizehnte." in April, on Friday the 13th. The likelihood of this happening is approximately 1 in 2500.

Kunstautomaten.

Meeting basically everyone at Muffat-Biergarten. The Fabis, Claudia, Frank, Manu and Susa. Even Lucy the dog-lady was there.

Paying Rasmus a compliment which he was really happy about.

Hanging up some crystals in the trellis on the balcony.

Spending a day at the Northern part of the English Garden with the "family". Playing Kubb, somersaulting spontaneously, so much delicious food (pizza, chocolate fruit, chickpea salad, sushi, cold drip coffee, ...), exploring some old trees at the riverside, climbing, playing with cheeky dogs, reading Lena's graphic novel.

The Destiny's Child reunion at Coachella.

Ferrero is making mother-effin' Kinder Bueno, Milchschnitte and Kinderriegel ice-cream now! Deliiiish.

Going to a workshop about voice and body language. I actually got way more positive feedback than expected. Apparently my voice and articulation are quite nice and I keep eye contact much better than I thought. Also, I asked another girl from the group to join me for lunch. Yay, talking to people! Hello, new extrovert me!

Foldable silicon lunch boxes.

Playing badminton in the park. I want to do that more often!

Getting eight more books from the library even though I still had five at home.

When your book fits exactly into the handle on the seat in front of you and you don't need a bookmark.

Having a monthly ticket for public transport is surprisingly nice. Hop on, hop off.

Visiting some of my students at their work place on Girls'/Boy's Day. We went to Deutsches Museum and a kindergarden, for example. It was great to see how much the kids enjoyed their days.

The playoff final!!! Two goals in 10 seconds, omg. So EHC Red Bull Munich won for the third time in a row. There were gold glitter, beer showers, the players' children on the ice. And I flirted with a dude from Garmisch who kept calling me princess.

Woodworking. I'm currently carving a bowl and a small bird out of limewood.

Carrying a huge pot of flowers all the way home on the train.

That other kind of mango. The type you usually get in Asia. Less sweet, creamier.

Going to the market on Saturdays. Getting fresh bread, vegetables or flowers for the balcony.

Riding my bike through the forest in order to get to the garden centre.

A weird childhood flashback while washing my dirty feet in the sink: the memory of my grandma who wouldn't let us sit on the sofa in the summer if we didn't do that.

Spending a day with a happy-go-lucky woodworker. Playing games at the Starnberger See. Driving around in his Skoda. Eating pizza.

Wearing the &otherstories sunflower necklace with the one I bought in Portland and had always been to tight for me. And wearing the pink-blue checked pyjama pants in combination with a soft grey longsleeve shirt. Another thing that used to be too small.

The balcony!!! Tomatoes, yellow zucchini, pink poppies, multi-coloured petunias, I mean, YES. The light breaking in one of the crystals. Rainbow reflections.

#things i love #personal #present perfect #2018 #april #april 2018

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wanderbitesbybobbie · 4 years ago

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Quirky Jobs: Surviving Wild West Sydney (Part 1)

I wasn’t always a pastry chef chasing that pastry goals and living the dream. Before I got my certifications, and before my bosses put me into an actual pastry chef position, I had to start from the very bottom. In 2016, I was a full-time food and travel writer for various magazines and websites. I had this mentality that being on the road every three weeks teaches me so much about independence. I felt like I can take on everything and conquer the world starting with baby steps. When I applied for my Australian Visa, I kept on telling myself that it would be easy peasy. The goal was to enter Australia hassle-free, apply for a Pastry Chef position while studying full-time, hope that my boss will sponsor me for a Permanent Resident Visa, and live life to the fullest. It sounded pretty straightforward. The plan was to stay at my cousin’s studio in Fairfield until I’m able to find my own place while working on my dream job. Well, it did happen, but it took longer than I expected. Life is not about set timelines anyway. In the last quarter of 2016, I packed my bags and flew to Sydney leaving everything behind. All I had with me was the courage to pursue my dreams and a few dollars to get me started. Two weeks after I arrived in Kingsford Smith International Airport, I was bound to make things happen. I searched for possible job openings warily and I did not stop until I got a call back.

I am an experienced pastry chef and have a rewarding Bachelor’s Degree in Food Technology back home, so I thought it would be uncomplicated for me to find a job. Apparently, that was not the case as being a pastry chef in Australia, or anything related to hospitality is a different game. Australia is a country that takes skills seriously. You have to meet the qualifications, licenses, and at least Level 4 certifications (which I didn’t have at that time yet, as I was still finishing my certification course) for you to hold a pastry chef position. Fine. Then I have to start all over again. I found a job listing and applied as a donut chef in Krispy Kreme Liverpool. I was confident enough for this role. I mean, donuts? It’s very basic. I’m pretty sure I can manage this. But then, my Krispy Kreme application taught me not to get my hopes up in every aspect of life. I got my first ever job rejection in Australia. I felt bad at first, but I told myself that rejections open new doors of opportunities. I moved on and applied at IKEA as a food attendant. The role was to assist in the kitchen and serve clients in line. Now, that’s simple! No sweat! I waited for three days, but then I got an e-mail that I wasn’t exactly the person they were looking for. I was in the verge of losing hope. Why won’t they hire an experienced chef? Is it me, my qualifications, my pastry portfolio? Or Australia just have a very high standard when it comes to human resource? Eventually, it came to a conclusion. Nope. It wasn’t me, nor my qualifications and experiences, nor my degree. It was my student visa dragging me down to the gates of hopelessness. I was only allowed 20 hours of work a week (legally) and most employers wanted more. I mean, who would hire an employee just to fill in for 20 hours, right? From my job hunts, I just got used to rejection that every time I would click the “Send Application” button, I would cross my fingers and tell myself, “here goes nothing…”

I stayed at my cousin’s pad for six months, and we were the best housemates anyone can imagine. We cooked, she took me on shopping sprees, we went on sale hunts, watched movies together, frequently visited the Filipino and Asian shops, and drove to places anytime we wanted. It was a bliss, but then eventually I knew I had to move out. Of course, I didn’t want to be a free-loader forever though she really wanted me to stay. I just thought that maybe this was my chance to step out of my comfort zone and experience life in a whole new level. Living in a country with a culture very much different from mine was a big adjustment for me. But, I assumed I adjusted well. So I started to build my dreams inside that bubble that I would get a job and live the life I have imagined for years.

First Job: Kitchen Hand and Breakfast Chef

After summer, it was autumn, and then winter. Two seasons have gone and yet my applications were still denied. I never stopped job hunting, at this point I was willing to take anything. I went out, went on numerous train rides, went to neighboring suburbs, and handed copies of my CVs to possible employers in person. I put myself out there with that fearless mentality that I can handle any job thrown at me. Finally, I got a call back from a Lebanese Café in Villawood and the interview went well. It was a weekend job, paying $15/hour AUD (Php 525/hour) for an 8-hour shift. It’s actually considered a low paying job in Sydney standards, but for starters like myself, I couldn’t complain. Work starts at 7 in the morning and finishes at 3 in the afternoon. I was able to balance my working student life, but back then I had to re-assess if I would be able to sustain myself with $15 an hour. For most people, “Thank God it’s weekend”, but for me it was time to hustle. I woke up at 5:30 AM on weekends, battling the cold fogs of winter mornings.

This job required me to clean and wash huge pots and heavy kitchen equipment, do the dishwashing for the in-house dining, and assist the head chef in whatever he needs. On top of it, I was assigned in the Breakfast Section where I do all the pancake and waffle orders, sandwiches, eggs, and salads. It sounded pretty easy. But if you’re a chef, you’ll know that “egg section” is never an easy task. There are more than a hundred ways to cook eggs, probably ten ways for breakfast. Most of the customers liked poached eggs and soft-boiled eggs, or when it’s not your lucky day, you’ll get fried eggs and poached eggs, and scrambled eggs, and boiled eggs all at once. Timing had to be really accurate. Imagine a timer going off, while you’re washing dishes, watching the waffles, and poaching eggs. Plus the fact that the kitchen is a one big rectangle, designed horizontally, where the sink is at the very end and the breakfast section on the other end. Do you imagine the struggle now? Now I know why they take skills seriously in this part of the globe.

Sydney is one of the most expensive cities in the world. Rent comes weekly and it is not the only expense to pay. There are a lot of things to be considered like utilities, wi-fi, transport, food allowances, and basic necessities. If I wanted to move out entirely and live an independent life, I would have to make more than $15 an hour. I didn’t think this café job was sustainable.

Second Job, Cleaner at a Logistics Company

While finishing my shifts in the morning until afternoon, I decided to accept a gig from a churchmate. The offer was pretty good. $100 AUD (Php 3500) for a four-hour job, and the best thing about it was… it’s a night job. Therefore, I can finish my café shifts at 3 in the afternoon and head straight at Leightonfield to be able to make it at the 5 PM shift. I spent my few hours gap to help prepare the kitchen and café for the following morning. It’s only a ten-minute train ride from Villawood to Leightonfield. I had two hours of time to spare.

The task was easy, except that I would have to do it alone, all by myself in this massive Logistics Office where they transport expensive cars like Lamborghini and Rolls Royce to all places in Australia. I had copies of the Master keys, so if anything goes wrong, I could be responsible for some reason. The office and the warehouse were huge. It was like the size of Puregold Supermarket in Shaw Blvd., except, it had three levels, plus another level for the lounge in the warehouse. I cleaned the toilets for all floors (both for male and female), including the toilets in the warehouse and lounge, wiped office desks, vacuumed three levels of carpeted floors, washed dirty dishes in two pantries, replenished toilet papers, soaps, and all the free kitchen stuff like coffee, tea, and biscuits. I emptied garbage bins for every desk, cleaned a dozen of cigarette ash trays, and had to dump all of the garbage in a huge dumpster, four times my size at the back of the warehouse. You know the dumpster where they hide dead bodies in thriller movies? Yes. That kind of dumpster.

There was one thing my Filipino boss taught me though. The cleaning agency doesn’t care if you finish the job early, they still pay you the same exact amount. They don’t exactly have time-keeping records. With that said, finishing in two hours for a four-hour job was the goal. That’s how you make the most out of the salary.

Cheat Sheet from my Filo Boss: If you see that the toilet bowl is clean, just flush it twice or three times and leave it. Why do you have to clean it again? If you see the toilet mirrors are clean, leave it. It saves you a lot of time.

You would think I didn’t do much, but everything doesn’t come out clean all the time. By the time I finished my shifts as a cleaner, it was already around 8 to 9 in the evening. Despite the schedule, I cooked my own meals, so I won’t be tempted to spend much on food. I was dead tired each time I went home. My soul felt like it was about to leave my body, I worked for more than 12 hours on weekends. It was physically draining. Plus the fact that Leightonfield can be really spine-chilling at night drove me nuts. Unlike most suburbs near the city, it was empty. It was mostly where factories and warehouses were situated. The workers leave at exactly 5 in the afternoon. By the time my shift starts, the whole building and the next 3 to 5 kilometers is deserted, with just me scrubbing the toilet tiles while listening to music on my iPod. I realized, if anything happens to me at Leightonfield, if ever I would cry for help, no one would be able to hear me or find me, as I am locked from the inside of the massive complex. They don’t have access from the outside as the keys are with me, unless they know the passcode of the security lock. The security office was outside the warehouse, so basically I was alone in a very huge complex where I had to turn off all lights and vents, and activate security alarms after I finish cleaning. I WAS BRAVE. VERY BRAVE. I didn’t care at that time, it never occurred to me that it was a dangerous job for a woman. Sydney is a safe city, and it has been that way in my mind the whole time. All I wanted was to save up and find a place for myself.

Let’s do a quick Math:

Lebanese Cafe at $15 x 16 hours every weekend = $240 (Php 8,400)

Cleaner at Leightonfield at $100 every weekend = $200 (Php 7,000)

Total: $440 on weekends (Php 15,400)

$440 on a weekend! Not bad! Back in the Philippines, you will earn this amount of money in a month’s work, plus all the hidden charges and taxes. This can go a long way to feed a family of three! But then, I’m not in the Philippines. I’m living in one of the most expensive cities in the world (yes, I said that twice already), $440 is just enough to rent a private room.

Errrrr… My goal was to rent an apartment, not a room. But I wasn’t in a hurry. Baby steps, right? So room it is… I settled for it.

Renting like a real Sydney-sider

In about a month, I was able to save up for a big private room which I rented while I was saving up for an apartment. It was a three-bedroom wooden house in a suburb called Canley Vale. My landlady was an Australian-Filipina flight attendant working for British Airways. She was in her forties, single but has a son and a daughter from an Italian Diplomat who both live in the city center, owns an old rickety red sedan, smokes a lot, and talks really loud. Let’s just call her “Rosie” (not her real name). Rosie and I went to church together. I found out she was subletting some of her rooms, so I took the biggest one which she rented out to me at $150 AUD (Php 5250) a week, with wi-fi and utilities included.

It wasn’t a bad deal, though it was one station further away from my school, it was a fifteen-minute train ride to work. The vicinity was nice. It had a supermarket, bakery, post office, and Vietnamese restaurants just ten steps away from the house. The bus-station was a two-minute walk. The fall-side was that it was an hour away from the city. That’s pretty far, considering Sydney train travel is very modern and fast.

The room includes a huge wooden built-in closet, my own door to the backyard, an electric fan, a double-sized bed, a broken TV, and a study desk. I did not have time to watch TV anyway, so I took it. I liked the house, it made me feel like I’m in an old grandma’s house in some province, with pink curtains, a living room, a kitchen inside the house, a dirty kitchen and grill in the granny flat, and laundry area (though it didn’t have a dryer so drying my chef’s uniforms in winter days was a struggle).

I finally moved out of my cousin’s pad. This was it. I was ultimately “adulting”, working side jobs and paying my dues while I was studying full-time. My room was my safe-haven. I was finally able to buy my own stuff like a heater for winter, thermal jackets (I never prepared for Sydney winter), blankets, shoe racks, and everything else to complete my room. It was just like living in a studio, except it was in a three-bedroom house. It felt like I was closer to home, having the entire house designed like a true Filipino home.

I’ve had the greatest sky views in that room. I kept my door open to let winter breeze in. The fresh air cooled my room down in sunny afternoons. This was where I worked on my school case studies and prepared for my exams while working two jobs.

Rosie was supportive. She would ask for my schedule and cooked hot meals for me when my schedule was too tight. She wasn’t the best cook, she would put potatoes and carrots in “Sinigang” or eggplants in “Nilaga”. But still, I was thankful. She was like a second mom to me even if there were times she would suddenly yell at me for some reason I never knew about. She has a temper, so I would always have to weigh the climate of the house before I engage in long conversations. Rosie handed me heaps of nice clothes she bought from London. It was her habit to shop on her “break time” windows as a flight attendant, but because her time was very limited on land, she never tried the clothes on. They often come too small for her built, so the nice brand new dresses and shirts from London all landed in my closet.

I’ve had happy and depressing memories in Canley Vale. Like the cliché goes, all good things come to an end.

My cleaner side gig ended. The cleaning agency was looking for someone who could do it full-time, six days a week. It was very much tempted to accept the offer, but my school schedule was a hindrance. My last pastry class ends at 8 PM, Leightonfield requires me to be there at 5 PM. They had to let me go. After all, I came to Australia to master patisserie, not to spend my days chasing on high-paying side jobs.

I kept my café job, but not having a side gig was a huge blow for my budget, especially that I have invested a lot for my Canley Vale room. I still wrote articles for Philippine travel magazines while working on my weekend shifts and they paid me well in peso and it stretched my budget by a bit. However, I needed AUD to cover all of my expenses, because essentially I am spending in Australian Dollars not in Philippine Peso. It’s a dramatically huge difference. I had to find another job. Probably, a single sustainable job that would pay for my dues and that I wouldn’t have to get a side hustle.

To be continued…

TRANSPARENCY: Thank you to my cousin, Sheryl for opening your home and for adopting me each time I’m homeless. Thank you to my family in Canberra, my understanding but very temperamental land lady, my Filipino churchmate who gave me the cleaning side gig (it was a very humbling experience).

Have you experienced working abroad while balancing school life?

How was your experience?

I’d love to hear from you!

Quirky Jobs: Surviving Wild West Sydney (Part 1) was originally published on WanderBitesByBobbie

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lookatthedawn · 7 years ago

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While in Bangkok

Breakfast at the hotel is a very formal affair. The dining room is big and well decorated and there is a plentiful buffet. The headwaiter speaks good English and is quite solicitous, although a bit intimidating. He wants to make sure that everything runs smoothly and that's good, but I need a little more space. A table at the corner is occupied by a sour-looking French couple. At another table sits a group of Asian ladies who could be Thai or from another country nearby. They're noisy and demanding, but I'm grateful to them as they hijack the headwaiter's attention. My usual beverage of choice is tea, but I want to try the Thai coffee. I find it a lot like the Vietnamese; extremely strong and sweet. Also, very small. After it's gone, I'm still thirsty, so I have a big cup of tea. Many people in Thailand speak English, some quite well. On the way to the Grand Palace, I get directions from an Englishman with lovely blue eyes, then a couple of locals are happy to direct me to the train station. From the station, I take a tuk-tuk whose driver convinces me that the best way to see the city is by boat. He shows me the route on the map which covers a great part of what I want to see. He can't tell me the price of the boat tour but his own fare is quite low. I like the tuk-tuk as it offers an affordable way to see the city. As we arrive at the pier, I'm surprised that there's no line and no one waiting to go on a tour.

The tuk-tuk driver directs me to a woman sitting at a table, who will make a special price for me, which is two thousand Baht. I think I misheard, so I ask how much again. Two thousand Baht, she repeats. I tell her I don't have that kind of money and start to walk away. She lowers the fare to 1800, I tell her no, thank you. Sixteen hundred, she says, is her best offer. The driver is still around, trying to convince me as well, but I'm already on my way out. He offers to take me wherever I want to go, but I decline.

I want to see a Buddhist temple we passed by, but in Bangkok, you find Buddhist temples and Seven-Eleven stores in every corner. I stop at one of these temples for a bit of peace and quiet away from the heat. It is white with a red and gold roof decorated with precious stones in the front. Everything is clean, neat and peaceful. Dozens of statues of the Buddha sit behind glass windows facing a patio. At a table on the right side of the temple, two monks sit and talk. I greet them and they reply amiably but as I don't speak Thai and they speak precious little English, so we communicate with smiles and nods. I usually feel quite comfortable around Buddhist monks. Something about their lifestyle appeals to me. I have a thousand questions for these two, but for now, the language barrier means my questions will remain unanswered.

After a while, I exit the temple and take a taxi to the Grand Palace. In Bangkok, the taxis have the most wonderful shade of pink, something between magenta and fuschia, and drivers drive on the left side of the road. It's a busy Saturday afternoon and the area around the King's Palace is blocked. The driver, who speaks English with ease, makes light conversation. He asks where I am from and we talk about soccer a little bit, then he speaks of his country; he has a few complaints, mostly about the cost of living, but overall he is quite proud of his homeland and the new king. He drives me as close as he can to the Palace and I jump out. I see men and women dressed in black going toward the palace and feel inadequate in my jeans and red, sleeveless tunic. I think of the long-sleeved shirt in my bag, in case I have to change into something more somber. There is a narrow passage leading to the palace area where security is tight. They check my ID and my bag before letting me in. There are a few people, tourists like me, wearing regular clothes, but most visitors are in groups, wearing black and walking purposefully. The marine, the army, and the navy are massively represented. A sign at the palace's gate says that the King's Palace will close earlier, because of the death of the king. I bemoan my timing as I connect the dots of the sights around me; the people in black, the many official cars, the soldiers, the monks and all the signs praising the king. The mood is both festive and somber, as the tribute to a well-lived life. I don't know much about the king, but I suspect he was quite well liked.

I leave the area near the palace and find a pier with shops around. I'm looking for a fridge magnet from Thailand. On January, when my son Marcelo went to Europe, he had the bright idea of collecting magnets from every country visited. He proudly displays his collection on our fridge and I have decided to do the same. Thailand will be my first if I can find one. I walk around the shops and find shoes, hats, and t-shirts, but no magnets. On this pier, there is a line to get in the boats. The price for the boat tour is around six hundred. Four hundred and change before 4 p.m., but this is 4:10. It strikes me as odd that prices for the same tour -- even though the first was individual and this is in a group -- can go from 2K to 600 hundred Baht. I watch the long line of people getting into boats as I try to make up my mind whether to buy the ticket or not. In the meantime, I sit in the shade and rest, while watching the people and the breathtaking view of the city. I decide not to take the tour. I walk out of the pier and back in the streets. There's food for sale everywhere. Fruits, juices, smoothies. Small shops, doors that are no more than two meters wide, selling every kind of food and clothing. No magnets, though. I come to another pier, which looks like a well-kept plaza, pleasant and tourist-friendly. This is the third pier I visit and it offers quite a contrast to the other two. The first one was poorly maintained and smelled strongly of fish. The second and busiest catered to tourists but was disorganized and the staff was not very friendly. The pier where I now stand is elegant, with a restaurant overlooking the Chao Phraya River, big pots of flowers, and polite people. I imagine the price of the tour to be exceedingly high. When I ask, I think I misheard. "Forty Baht." "Excuse me? How much did you say?" The smiling clerk pushes a table with different prices. For the ride I want is, indeed, forty Baht. "The next one leaves in twenty minutes," he adds in clear English. I buy the ticket and wait for the boat to arrive. This is a hop-on-hop-off boat, for which you pay for the whole day or buy a one-way ticket like I did. The ride offers a chance to see much of Bangkok for little time and money. It is not only for tourists but a safe and pleasant type of transportation for Bangkokians commuting from work, school or just going out shopping. I try capturing the moment with my phone camera, but I can never catch the breeze, the sounds and smells as the boat glides over the Chao Phraya River. I'm aware that this is a singular moment, one I'll remember many times when I think of my time in Southeast Asia. Yes, I was there, I shall say, and it was worth it! I hop off at Yannawa and walk toward Silom. The streets are busy with traffic, vendors, and buyers. I wonder if other cities in the country are as busy as Bangkok or if the whole country conglomerates here. I make a mental note to research. That is what visiting a different country does; it ignites the mind and incites our curiosity. Who is the minority in this country? Who do they blame when things go wrong? Who is the scapegoat? What are their problems? What I see is a pretty homogenous people, going about their business boisterously but peacefully. I search my brain for news I might have heard from Thailand. Was there any terrorist attack on its soil? Earthquake? I find nothing. The place reminds me of movies with Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker, where a lot is happening right under the surface, but the regular man and woman don't have a clue about it. Is that the case here? "Be careful, his bowtie is really a camera."

In Silom I enter Robinson Department Store, which is a chain of megastores, sometimes standing alone, other times in a shopping center. This one is in a shopping center, which includes a supermarket, cafes, clothing stores, etc. I spend much time in this mall, looking at products and prices, then sitting at a cafe to rest for a while.

I don't know what I thought about Bangkok, but I definitely didn't think it was so large, busy and well organized as it is. I see a fair number of tourists and Westerns living here. Something like 8 million people live in Bangkok. And yet, traffic flows without conflicts. Unlike Hanoi, drivers don't honk as much and the people are polite and helpful. I find quaint little shops in picturesque villages. Art galleries, cafes and restaurants look delightful in the late afternoon's glow. I stop at Mama Mia Bangkok, a busy diner on a side street where I'm served the richest vegetable soup I ever tasted. The restaurant has tables on both sides of the narrow street, which the waiters cross constantly while carrying trays with hot dishes and cold drinks. There are more tourists eating here than there are Thai customers. While waiting for my soup, I pull out my laptop. The humdrum in the background is perfect for writing. In the meantime, night falls over the city.

After searching in a number of stores I finally find magnets at a stand of a street vendor. It's the first one I see and it's dirt cheap. As soon as buy it, however, they appear everywhere. I explore the city on foot, amazed by Bangkok's modern and creative architecture. It's hot and humid, but there's a constant breeze that makes walking around a pleasure. At a bridge over the train station in Silon, a girl wearing a costume poses for a photo shoot. She's not the only one. In fact, the place seems to be quite popular with photographers. Most people on the streets are in their twenties, usually with a group of friends, having a good time. If they're in a group, they keep to themselves but if they're alone they politely greet me. There are many Westerns around, and most of them look like well-adapted residents, not tourists.

If you ever go to Bangkok, pay close attention to which airport you're arriving and departing. I arrived at Suvarnabhumi Airport, but I will be leaving from Don Mueang International. This airport is smaller and the staff is quite friendly. As I am flying first thing in the morning, I spend part of the night in the airport, and I'm far from the only one. There are people sleeping everywhere. At a busy charging station, I meet and befriend Carl, Kazild, Kevin, and Cynthia. Each of us is from a different part of the world, traveling to another, completely different place. At that airport, what unites us is that we need to charge our phones. Carl and Kazild are best friends originally from the Philippines but raised in Hawaii. They're on their way to Hanoi, Vietnam. Kevin is from Pennsylvania and he's flying back home, and Cynthia, who is from Argentina, has just arrived from Myanmar and is flying to Japan. All of them have been around and have interesting tales to tell. Just by looking into their eyes you can see a world of places and people, of which they're happy to share, though no narrative can fully bring to others the intensity of the experience itself. After talking of places, people and how to find the best lodgings, we settle on politics, and I find that, though our backgrounds are quite diverse, our views are similar. Soon it's time for Kevin to board his plane. One by one we go our own ways, but we promise to stay in touch. As I depart from them I wonder about their expectations and thoughts toward their destination. It took courage for each of them to embark on this adventure and I'm impressed -- and jealous -- of their experiences. I wish them all the best. My batteries are fully charged and it's time for me to go too. I stop at the exchange booth and turn baht into riel, then eat my last guava before heading to my gate. Goodbye, friends! Goodbye, Thailand!

#silon #travel #mountholyokecollege #Summer internship #thailand #Bangkok #donmueang #Survarnabhumi #baht #riel #mamamiabangkok #boattour #chaoprayariver #tuktuk #hoponhopoff #grandpalace #kingspalace

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elevensaturdaysandkpop · 7 years ago

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K-Pop 101 - Culture and Cuisine

“101 [adj] /ˌwʌn.əʊˈwʌn/ : showing the most basic knowledge about the subject”

I wish I have more time to actually make a proper and full guidance for this but this entry will give you some insights of what to do and where to go (specifically in London and its’ surroundings) if you would like to have a Korean-related experiences.

I probably don’t have as much knowledge as people who originally from the UK but I can share you places that I’d like to recommend from my one year experience in the UK

Introduction

There is no doubt that Korean culture has gone to every countries that I ever visited, including UK. Eventhough the crowd doesn’t seem to be as big as Asian countries, but it’s pretty amazing since I know Korean Artist barely visit countries like Europe and America as it might be too far from them (plus with harder competitor in the music industry as well). However, I’m pretty surprised that there is K-town in London (which I’ll explain about it further). I don’t think there is any Korean town in any countries that I visited except UK (and I travelled a lot, too!). Also, it’s not hard to find Korean restaurant in the UK as well. Plus, having a culture centre in central of London has given another prove how big the influence of Korean culture throughout the world right now.

Culture

Probably the most well known culture from Korea is their music (known as K-Pop). While K-Pop probably expand around Asia earlier than other continents, Gangnam Style by Psy probably one of the key of K-Pop to finally enter Europe and other continents such as America, Australia and Africa. Nowadays, many K-Pop artists starts to expand their promotion to Europe as well, especially in the UK. G-Dragon is the latest Korean Artist that came to have solo concert in London and Birmingham, with Hyukoh coming on the last weekend of October (if you’re interested to attend their concert, click here for more information and ticket sales). Even though there is no sites that could give the latest update of K-Pop concert in the UK (which become a hassle since you don’t know who’s coming and when, and you probably missed it), United K-Pop probably one of the UK website that could give a little bit updates and post some discussions regarding Korean culture and music.

While this site created by K-Pop fans, Korean Culture Centre is the official site and organisation, affiliated with Korean Government to promote Korean culture in the UK. Korean events such as Korean Music Festival, Korean Film Festival and also K-Pop Academy are being held regularly to gives people who lives in the UK a chance to know more about Korean (not just limited to the music, but also the history and the culture in general). Their office building are open for everyone so feel free to give the place a visit here.

Cuisine

As mentioned before, it’s not hard to find Korean restaurant from the budget level restaurant to a fancy one. It’s also not hard to find Korean supermarket around, even though I’d like you to suggest to go to New Malden if you want to feel the Korean vibe while enjoying their cuisine, and probably get some souvenirs from their wide range of shops, too!

New Malden, or known as Korean Town, located in Southwest London. This suburb has turned into one of the most dense Korean population in Europe after the ambassador of South Korea lives in this area in 1950 and slowly turn this area into one of the biggest Korean Community with around 20,000 Koreans lives there, including 600 North Koreans in it. So it is not a shocked if you can find some pieces of resemblance of Gangnam in South Korea, where the centre of restaurant and entertainment is (pretty much like Soho in London).

Back to traditional food from Korea, just like typical Asian countries, South Korea is no different. Their main meal most likely include rice on it (which probably unusual for British people to eat rice). But what distinguish Korean food with other Asian Countries is right on spot when people try Korean food and Compare it with Japanese or Chinese food, even with similar shape or look, the taste could be different. The easiest example, is between Kimbap from Korea and Makizushi from Japan. While it’s looks identically the same, the taste is totally different, which is not hard for people to know the difference between them once they eat.

The taste difference with other Asian foods seems to be welcome by non Asian countries, especially by people in the UK. This could be seen by how many Korean restaurants all around UK, even in central of London itself. Here are the list of Korean Restaurant located in London that I’d love to recommend

1. Seoul Bakery (£) Probably the cheapest place of Korean food you could ever get. With £10, you can easily get a portion of Kimbap + Ramen + Mandu each. Located near Tottenham Court Road, it’s pretty central and simply accessible with everyone. But you need to be careful to missed it as the place is really small (compare with buildings that surrounds it). But again, I don’t think you will miss it, as people always queue outside the restaurant so it’ll be easily spotted. My personal favourite is their beef kimbap. (you should try it if you have a chance to). This place is quite unique as they let their visitors to decorate their walls (aka write something on the wall about their experiences with the restaurant or Korea in general). Plus, they also sell some Korean snacks, albums, merchandises and magazines, too! So it’s like a one stop shop where you can get your food and souvenirs from the same place!

(note: they only accept cash so make sure to bring your cash with you)

2. Wing Wing (£/££) Another favourite place to eat of mine. Located near Russell Square, this place always crowded with students as it’s also closed to Bedford, where several universities such as UCL, SOAS, UAL, and others located (and I used to live right across this place too, so I almost go there everyday at that time haha). This place is well known with their chicken wings, inspired by a combination of chicken and beer (what Korean usually eat and drink for snack), they sell 6 wings with fries and drink for £7. And you can get 2 pint of beer for £5. I personally have tried all of their foods and there’s nothing that I don’t like so it’s a tough call to say which one is my favourite. You will have options of what kind of flavours for your wings, and the same for your fries. Since I love to eat rice, I usually get their seafood with rice, then a meal of wings, plus a banana caramel sweet bun (it’s a lot and I never can finish it myself since it’s probably a portion of 2-3) and it only cost me £20 to get all those food!

(note: you will enjoy K-Pop music video being played in their big TVs on both sides of the place and it’s a cozy place to hang out with your friends, too!)

3. Bibimbap (££) I’m a rice person (yes, I’m Asian that’s why!) and this restaurant could be one of my favourite as they’re specialized with Bibimbap. With a range price around £7 to £13 for each portion of Bibimbap, they give a wide range of choices of it. You can also create your own bibimbap here! From choosing the what kind of rice, topping that would you like to put in (might be useful for picky eater), and what kind of egg you would like to have in it. They also have a delicious soup to eat along with your bibimbap as well! I usually get beef bibimbap with seafood soup + drink which cost me £25 in total. This place still considerably small, but they quite a lot of seat so even if you need to queue, you’re not going to wait more than 15 minutes (usually).

(note: If you’re old enough to drink, get your bibimbap with soju might be a good idea ;))

4. Kimchi Village (££/£££) Calling all meat lovers here! Yes, the heaven of Korean BBQ as you can eat as much as you want here (aka Buffet). Located in New Malden, with a range of price around £10 to £20, which is considerably cheap for a buffet restaurant, I suggest you to book your table to avoid disappointment as you might need to queue for at least half an hour if you didn’t book your table before you come here. Not only the meat, they also gives you unlimited fried food and rice as well! Though you need to pay if you want to get a beer (LOL!).

(Note :While there is a lot of Korean BBQ in New Malden, this place probably the cheapest but still provides you a good quality of food. But if you would like to try a BBQ restaurant with Korean vibe inside the restaurant, you could go to BBQ restaurant nearby. You're in Korean Town anyways, so I could say most of their foods are authentic (or at least cooked by Korean who know exactly how the taste is))

5. Kimchee (£££)

Last but not least Korean Restaurant that you could visit. This probably the fanciest Korean restaurant in London. So you will always spot people with dress and suit come here for lunch and dinner. Their restaurant is stunning, with a very beautiful decoration, probably that’s why this place is a little bit more expensive than the other restaurants. Their food is not bad, though! They have a wide range of Korean food, from Bibimbap, Grilled meat, Soup, Fried Foods, and more. I personally always get a Beef Bibimbap and Grilled Beef Tongue, plus drink and spend around £25 in this restaurant. Don’t get it wrong, even though the price is higher than other Korean restaurants, this place still crowded at Lunch and Dinner time, and you probably need to wait for at least 30 minutes if you don’t book at table during this hour.

(note: probably the best place to have a date with your partner while still enjoying Korean cuisine though ;)

Feel free to leave me a message if you would like to know more about Korean Culture and Cuisine in London!

I’ll see you on my next post!

#homework #kpop #kpop101 #kccuk #kpopacademy

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plantparrish · 8 years ago

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@montyscupcake Asked: Can you write an imagine where Murphy and Bellamy are together (modern au) in secret, because Murphy is scared that their "pack" wouldn't understand this, and then Jonty sees them kissing and comforts them that it's okay? ^~^

Murphy slowly trailed behind his friends, hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans. Jasper next to him was talking vividly, making Monty laugh, but he didn’t listen himself. Instead he stared at Bellamy in front of him talking to Clarke. He knew that they were only best friends and he wasn’t jealous. Okay, maybe he was a bit jealous but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, that he wished, Bellamy and he could be open about their relationship, like Octavia and Lincoln who were with them as well, hand in hand and smiling at each other with eyes full of admiration. Murphy was just so sick of having to hide his relationship with Bellamy but he knew they couldn’t just tell them. What if they had a problem with it and it would be weird between all of them? He was aware that they couldn’t risk it, their friendship was more important than a relationship that started out as fuckbuddies. But that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

“Is that okay with you as well, Murphy?”

Huh? Confused, he looked up. He hadn’t realised that someone had been talking to him.

“Sorry, what? I didn’t listen,” he apologised quickly, looking at Bellamy who had been the one talking to him.

“I was asking if you were fine with grabbing a sandwich over there and eating it in the park?” His boyfriend watched him with a look of concern in his brown eyes. Murphy hurriedly nodded. No matter how discontent he was with their situation he didn’t want to make Bellamy worry.

“Sure.”

Clarke laughed softly and clapped him on the shoulder. “Try to stay with us now and don’t go away with the fairies,” she said teasingly.

Murphy just grumbled and followed them to the small sandwich take away where they got their food, Murphy only getting a small, cheap ham sandwich because he didn’t have much money left for the rest of the month.

“Hey guys, there’s a grocery store nearby, I’m just going to get some stuff I’ll need tonight for dinner!” Bellamy suddenly said, glancing at Murphy while doing so.

The latter looked a bit confused but quickly caught on with what Bellamy meant. “Uh, I’ll go with you,” he quickly replied and made his way to his boyfriend.

The others seemed a bit taken aback by Bellamy’s sudden statement but just nodded after Bellamy told them they would meet them at the park in a bit.

Bellamy smiled at them and waved before walking away from the group, Murphy hurrying along behind him

“So, what’s the matter, Murphy?” Bellamy asked as soon as they were out of hearing distance.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, cursing himself inwardly. He hadn’t wanted to make Bellamy worry but it seemed like he had done exactly that. The curly haired man was simply too good at reading him. Murphy had always believed to be somewhat unreadable but to Bellamy he was an open book. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. It meant that Bellamy knew him better than anyone else, even better than his best friend Emori, which wasn’t a bad thing but also wasn’t a good one in situations like this.

“I know something’s wrong, so just tell me!”

“Maybe it’s none of your business!” Murphy countered, slipping into his defence-mechanism he knew he shouldn’t put up around Bellamy but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.

“Murph-“

“Let’s just get those groceries and go back, I’m sure the others are waiting” Murphy interrupted his boyfriend and walked a bit faster, eyes focused on the road so he didn’t have to look at Bellamy.

He could hear the tan skinned boy next to him sigh but no one said anything more, the two of them walking in a rather uncomfortable silence. Soon they arrived at the supermarket and Murphy dared to look at Bellamy for the first time since their short argument, when the other was getting fresh tomatoes.

Guilt settled inside of him when he saw how down his boyfriend seemed. He knew he had to apologise before Bellamy thought he didn’t trust him or anything. Because normally they told each other everything but sometimes Murphy still struggled with it. It was understandable considering their rough past with each other but he still felt bad about it.

So when they left the supermarket and started to walk back towards the park, Murphy gently put a hand on Bellamy’s arm and stopped walking.

The older man came to a halt as well and looked at him a bit confused. “What?” His voice sounded tired. Not harsh or annoyed, just exhausted, and it made Murphy feel even worse.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier…please don’t think I don’t trust you, I just. I just didn’t want you to worry,” Murphy admitted slowly, head down, staring at his own dirty combat boots.

A short laugh escaped Bellamy. “You didn’t do a very good job then.”

“I know, sorry.”

“It’s okay…But since you already made me worry, what’s bothering you?”

Murphy shrugged and avoided eye-contact, ashamed of himself. “Sometimes I just wish I could be more than your dirty little secret.”

There was a moment of silence before Murphy felt Bellamy’s hand under his chin, gently forcing him to look at the other’s face.

“You know you’re more than that. And I wish we could just tell everyone, but I’m scared of how they might react,” Bellamy said with a sigh, clearly feeling bad about it.

“I know, I just wish it would be different, I hate not being able to show everyone how much you mean to me. I don’t even want to be on your side constantly, but it would be nice to be able to be close to you and kiss you even when our friends are around…it just sucks when we’re at a party and I can’t even make out with you even though everyone else is making out as well” He added the last bit to make it sound a bit less pathetic and whiny but his boyfriend didn’t seem to think it was funny.

Bellamy softly took his face into his large calloused hands and smiled a bit sadly. “Me too…maybe someday when we can be sure it wouldn’t change anything…,” Bellamy whispered before he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Murphy’s lips.

Murphy instantly kissed back. It wasn’t often that he got a kiss in public even when their friends weren’t around so he wanted to enjoy this special moment for as long as he could. Their kiss lasted longer than Bellamy had originally intended, but he didn’t mind at all, he loved the way Murphy relaxed against his body and melted into the kiss.

Only when they heard someone snicker near them and screaming “You owe me ten bucks, Monty!” they separated as if their lips were burning.

With wide eyes Murphy stared at Jasper and Monty that were coming towards them, Jasper grinning widely and Monty with an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry, we didn’t want to interrupt you, but you took quite long so Clarke sent us to see what’s taking you so long,” the Asian boy apologised.

In a loss for words, Murphy glanced at Bellamy who seemed just as lost as he himself did, but was able to find his voice again quicker.

“You…please, don’t tell anyone about this,” Bellamy begged them, looking around nervously as if to make sure no one else was there to watch them.

“Why not?” Jasper asked, seemingly honestly confused about it. “I mean, we won’t if you don’t want us to, but why do you hide it?”

“Personal reasons,” Murphy mumbled, not wanting to explain everything to them. He felt like they would judge them and he really didn’t want that.

“We don’t want to make anything weird in our group,” Bellamy elaborated, much to Murphy’s dismay.

“Why do you think anything would be weird if you two would admit that you’re together?”

“What if someone has a problem with it and wouldn’t want to be around us anymore?” Bellamy asked and Murphy could feel a slight blush spreading on his pale face, he hated being in the centre of attention.

Monty chuckled at those words. “Do you really think anyone would have a problem with it? Clarke has been ranting about that girl in her art class for weeks now and everyone knows that Miller has a boyfriend.”

“But what if-“ Bellamy started to say something but Monty just shook his head and interrupted him.

“If you want to keep it a secret for another reason, you can do that, but don’t keep it a secret because you think something would get weird in our group of friends. That won’t happen, I am sure of it.”

Murphy looked at Bellamy, not quite convinced but hopeful at the same time. His boyfriend looked back at him and nodded after a while.

“Okay,” he whispered and extended his hand for Murphy to take which he did after a moment of hesitation.

“Thank you,” Bellamy looked at Monty and Jasper. The two of them just chuckled.

“No problem. Come on now, otherwise Clarke will think there’s some kidnapper around,” Jasper replied laughing.

Together with their friends, Murphy and Bellamy started to walk back, hands intertwined and a soft smile on both of their faces. And even though Murphy couldn’t help but be a little bit nervous, he was also happy that there would be no need to hide their relationship from now on.

#it's more Bellamy being worried about it #I'm sorry about that #I hope you don't mind #thank you sooo much for the prompt #<3 #murphamy #fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #john murphy #bellamy blake #mine #murphamy fanfiction #non-platonic-murphamy #montyscupcake #my fanfiction

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loa-fm · 9 years ago

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(Loa) Bonjour Việt Nam: Little Sài Gòn of Paris By Vinh Trần Published November 2, 2015; Episode 28

Paris is the city of love, lights, high fashion and fine cuisine. It's also a multicultural mecca for many Vietnamese. The French capital is divided into twenty districts or “arrondissements” that form an outward-winding spiral beginning at the city’s center. Paris’ 13th district, also known as the Asian Quarter, is home to a large community of Chinese, Laotian, and Vietnamese.

Vinh Trần: Bienvenue! I'm right outside the metro station Porte D'Ivry, the closest station to Chinatown! I can already smell the delightful food coming from the restaurants! For this tour, Monsieur Sơn Trần will guide us. He is a longtime Parisian and he definitely knows each nook and cranny of Paris' 13e arrondissement, or quận 13, the 13th district.

Vinh Trần: Hello Monsieur Trần, thank you for taking Loa along with you today.

Sơn Trần: It's my pleasure!

Vinh Trần: I know that you have been in Paris for a long time, and that you come to this district quite often. So I guess you must have seen its evolution. Could you please tell us when and how it became Chinatown?

Sơn Trần: Oh sure, you know in the middle of the 1970s, in order to address the lack of housing in Paris, the French government decided to build a lot of apartments here, high towers. But the towers did not meet the expected success with French populations.

And at the same time, with the Fall of Sài Gòn, more and more Vietnamese refugees came to France fleeing the communist regime. So the French authorities decided to settle them in the high towers of Olympiades in this quarter and so that is the starting point of the Parisian Chinatown.

Vinh Trần: So the Vietnamese refugees came here because it was more affordable?

Sơn Trần: Sure, there was very low and cheap rent here in the 1970s.

Vinh Trần: And how is Chinatown now?

Sơn Trần: You know 40 years later now, the population is now very diversified with people coming from China, from Laos, from Cambodia. Most of the Vietnamese first inhabitants have moved to other places in Paris or outside Paris. And more and more young French people are coming into this quarter. They are attracted by the multi-cultural environment and cheap-rent apartments. And there is a lot of visits and activities to do here.

Vinh Trần: That's great! What's the first place we should go?

Sơn Trần: Ah there is one store, everyone has to visit once! I'll take you there.

Vinh Trần: Great, let's go!

We walk pass Asian music, jewelry and fashion shops and find ourselves in front of a supermarket on Avenue d’Ivry, near the metro station. Two magnificent lions greet us on either side of the entrance of the store. You definitely cannot miss it.

Vinh Trần: So Mr. Trần, where are we?

Sơn Trần: We are here in the Paris Store supermarket.

Vinh Trần: What so special about this store?

Sơn Trần: You know, the Paris Store supermarket is one of the first Asian supermarkets founded in Paris in the late 1970s. They were founded by two Vietnameses families, the Trinh and Giang families. Now 40 years later, the company is a very big company with many shops in France and they have many employees. You can find here a lot of things you need to cook Asian food, such as rice noodles.

Vinh Trần: Oh yeah I can see some rice noodles for phở or bún bò Huế.

Sơn Trần: Oh yeah sure it’s very delicious and you can find here vegetables and fruits, so it’s very easy to get here to shop for food.

Vinh Trần: And there are a lot of French people that come here?

Sơn Trần: Yes as you can see around us there is a lot of French people coming here to do their shopping because they enjoy Asian food.

Vinh Trần: Oh I see that it's almost lunchtime. Do you have any recommendations for restaurants?

Sơn Trần: Sure! I can get you to Phở Bánh Cuốn 14, it’s one of the best of phở restaurants in Paris.

Vinh Trần: Amazing, let’s go!

Sơn Trần: Okay let’s go.

Monsieur Trần takes me a short distance down the same avenue. Phở 14 is located at the corner of a big intersection, Avenue d’Ivry and Avenue de Choisy. We can already see the popularity of the restaurant despite numerous other restaurants around. There is a long line of hungry clients at the door. After 15 minutes of waiting, we are finally inside!

Vinh Trần: So Mr. Trần, do you know the story about this restaurant?

Sơn Trần: Oh basically, the concept of restaurant serving only phở and bánh cuốn has been created by my uncle and my aunt in the early 1980s.

Vinh Trần: Oh really?

Sơn Trần: Yes, they have created a restaurant serving only phở and bánh cuốn inside Paris in the fifth district and their clients were mostly French people. At that time people needed half an hour to get a table. Unfortunately my uncle died in 2001 and my aunt had to close the restaurant. Now I’m happy that someone has resumed the concept by creating this restaurant serving only phở and bánh cuốn. And I’m happy to see that this restaurant is really crowded like my uncle’s restaurant.

Vinh Trần: Wow it’s amazing. And do you know the difference between the phở in Việt Nam and the phở in France?

Sơn Trần: Well, in Việt Nam the broth in the North, the broth [is] mostly very tasty, in the South of Việt Nam people eat phở with more herbs and fresh soy [bean sprouts]. In France, the phở, what we eat, it’s a mix of two styles. That means the broth is very tasty and with many herbs and soy.

Vinh Trần: Oh that makes this phở so unique.

Sơn Trần: Yes.

Vinh Trần: Oh here’s our, plates, Merci. Guys, it looks so yummy!

The succulent smell coming out of the bowl is already transporting me to Việt Nam. I just have to add some fresh cilantro and soybean sprouts. The broth is clear and tasty, and the slices of beef are so tender!

Vinh Trần: It's really delicious! It was definitely worth waiting for! Thank you Monsieur Trần for bringing me here, it was a great and authentic phở. For Vietnamese people, are there other must-see places in the 13th district that you recommend us to visit?

Sơn Trần: Oh yes there is Khai Trí store for example. You can find you know Vietnamese sandwiches everywhere in Chinatown but the best bánh mì thịt Vietnamese [meat] sandwich are made here by Khai Trí and there is no doubt about that. You know originally Khai Trí was a book store.

Vinh Trần: Oh really?

Sơn Trần: Yes hence its name, because Khai Trí means ‘open your mind.’ Now Khai Trí still rents and sells Vietnamese books, calendars and dictionaries and so on. Now Khai Trí is very famous for their sandwiches. You know the first clients of the shop were Vietnamese refugees and they were very poor so the owner of Khai Trí had the marvellous idea to make sandwiches to sell to their clients. And now most of the clients come here for some sandwiches and at least half of them are not even Vietnamese people.

Vinh Trần: Oh and what’s so special about the bánh mì Khai Trí?

Sơn Trần: Oh bánh mì Khai Trí is made with a special sauce and French fresh baguette and so that makes them so delicious compared to the other sandwiches.

Vinh Trần: Oh amazing! Thank you for this wonderful tour! I definitely learned a lot about Paris’ 13th district and why Vietnamese people from everywhere love to come here.

I'm Vinh Trần, with Monsieur Trần Sơn. We hope to see you in Paris. Au revoir!

Sơn Trần: Au revoir Loa!

Restaurant addresses:

Khai Tri: 93 Avenue d'Ivry, 75013 Paris FRANCE

Paris Store: 44 Avenue d'Ivry, 75013 Paris FRANCE

Phở Bánh Cuốn 14 : 129 Avenue de Choisy, 75013 Paris FRANCE

#SoundCloud #music #Loa #Paris #District #13 #podcast #food #tour #Sai Gon #Ha Noi #Vietnam #Viet Nam #episode28

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mr-fireman · 8 years ago

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Oblivion (Chapter 1: Home)

Chapters: 1 |

Genre: gang!au, idol!au, twin!au | angst, a lot of it

Characters: Taeyong/Jaeyoung (OC), NCT, EXO

Word Count: 2259

Note: Hi guys~ It’s the first fic that I’m writing and actually publishing it somewhere! I got inspired by a fanart that Chelpyu did so I came up with this. Enjoy!!

Rating: PG-15 (violence, slight vulgar language)

Summary: “Being a leader in an idol group with his friends is the best thing that ever happened to Taeyong, but then things get complicated. Jaeyoung leaves his home in America and comes back to his gang in Seoul, South Korea to find more about the secret which was kept unknown for 22 years.”

(Jaeyoung POV)

The sound of the luggage wheels was echoing through my mind. It was the only sound I was hearing. My mind was full of thoughts. How will we meet? How is he going to react? Does he already know about it? What if he doesn't care? Why do I care about it though?

Those things were running through my head from the moment the plane left the ground. Now here I am, back in South Korea after 20 years, still thinking about the same thing.

I don't remember anything from when I was two, but the Incheon airport made me feel like I was being welcomed back home. Mom had always told me that someday I need to go back to Korea, but whenever I had asked why, she wouldn't give me an answer.

One day, she actually couldn't tell me anything anymore. I can still vividly remember that day.

"Mommy!" I ran to her with my backpack on and hugged her tightly. She smiled at me and kissed my head. That smile had always made my day better, and the kiss had cured me from any bad thing.

“Today we’ll go do something special, Jay.” We were usually going right back home after I had finished school, but I had known that that day was going to be different. I could have sensed it. That day had been my 10th birthday, it had to be different. We went in the park near school.

“What are we doing today, mommy?” I was so curious and excited. She continued to smile as she led me to an ice-cream shop. I shrieked happily and hugged her again.

Ice-cream had been my favorite back then. She bought me ice-cream and we went to the playground. I had so much fun with the kids there. I glanced in the direction where my mom stayed, but she wasn’t there. I started panicking and called her, but after a split second I felt a hard object hitting the back of my head. I had lost my consciousness.

After I felt like a few hours had passed, I had woken up tied to a chair with my mom staying in front of me. She had been tied too. When I could see more clearly, I was in shock. She had blood all over her and she was crying.

When she looked up at me, I closed my eyes quickly, pretending that I was still unconscious. She whispered my name a few times. I opened my eyes softly and looked at her as tears started to run down my cheeks.

“Mommy-“ she interrupted me. “Don’t cry, dear..” We heard footsteps and turned to where it was coming from. There was a boy, but I cannot remember any detail of his face. He laughed loudly.

“Look what we have here. A mother’s love is so wonderful, isn’t it?” I didn’t know what was happening. He punched my mother in the ribs and she screamed. I started crying hard as I called her.

With every word I had been saying, he threw another punch, so I stopped, thinking that it might stop him too, but he continued hitting her in every part of her body. I was crying uncontrollably as she was screaming in agony because of the pain she felt.

“Please..do whatever you want to me but leave my son alone.” She begs. She had tried to save my life. The boy nodded in disapproval and placed a gun at the side of her head. “He will suffer as I did because of you. Hey kid. Look here!” he demanded. I did as he said, scared.

“Go back, find him.” my mom whispered as he pulled the trigger.

Since then, I had lived as a homeless child. For 11 years, I had tried to find out who was the boy I needed to find, but now I know. The sound of the doors opening woke me up from my memories as I bumped into a girl.

“Watch the fuck out.” I say as I walk past her. I started searching the crowd of people for a familiar face, even if I knew that there was no one waiting for me.

I didn’t really expect to find Junmyeon hyung standing there, waiting for me, having a little banner in his hands with my name on it. He smiled when he spotted me as he started cheering.

“You little shit, come here.” He hugged me and ruffled my hair.

When I was 14, for four years after my mom died, I had lived on the streets because I couldn’t manage to pay the rent. I had lived my life by pickpocketing, eating from the trashcans outside a restaurant, stealing from shops, but I wasn’t caught even once by the police.

I was known as Shadow.

Even the homeless people had been paying me if I stole things from them. That’s how I had lived for those four whole years.

One day, when I was stealing from a supermarket some already-cooked meat, a group of Asian boys surrounded me and glared at me, sending daggers through their eyes. I was so scared, I thought that my freedom was over.

“You know that stealing is wrong, don’t you, little boy?” one of them said. He was a tall, well-built boy who looked like he was almost in his 20’s. He had a strong Asian accent, so I deduced that he had just been traveling there, he wasn’t living in the USA.

I backed off a few steps and started running in the opposite direction, but I bumped into another man. This one was fit, but not as tall as the first one. They all had seemed so dangerous, like they didn’t want to let me go out alive, but from this one I felt kindness.

“We need you kid.” He said, smiling.

I was pleasantly surprised with him actually waiting for me even if they were busy with their usual gangster stuff. I have been with them for the past eight years, learning a lot from them. He startled me by patting on my back.

Hyung tried to take my luggage away, but I refused and kept on walking. He glared at me for a second and then started walking next to me, bragging about what the others had done, about how annoyed he had been with them, but I didn’t really pay attention.

I was lost in my own thoughts.

After a while, when we got out of the airport he stopped talking, sensing that I couldn’t care less about what he had been talking about. We got in the car and left.

On the way home, the road was silent. We knew that my arriving back to South Korea meant getting back to work, and this time it was going to be the most difficult thing we had ever done.

We fought with a lot of people, we robbed a lot of places, we made a lot of drug deals and won a lot of illegal races, but we hadn’t planned anything about kidnapping an idol before.

(Taeyong POV)

“Winwin~ That’s not how you do it!” I said chuckling. He came to me, confused.

“I don’t seem to get it. Can you show it to me again, hyung?”

I started moving to the beat as Winwin watched me closely. I showed him the moves a few more times and then I explained to him how he should do it. “Let the moves flow, do it naturally.”

He looked at me with sparkling eyes like I was some kind of god of dance or something. Winwin then repeated the moves. His fluffy hair was bouncing cutely as he danced. He looked stiff, like he was struggling to do them right and make me proud.

He had always been so grateful for me being here with them that sometimes I felt bad for not showing him the same love he offered me in return.

“Do it again, you can do it. I believe in you Winwinie.” He smiled, trying it once again. He still looked stiff, but he did the moves right. I ruffled his hair and patted his back.

“Looks good, but you should practice more in your free time, okay?” Looking at the clock, I realized how late it was. The clock was close to 5 am. We were rehearsing for our debut stage for exactly 24 hours.

Everyone but me and Winwin was sleeping on the hard, cold floor. They must have been so tired. I hadn’t intended to overwork them like this. I had been so focused on perfecting the moves by myself, playing the song and practicing over and over that I completely ignored the fact that the other members were also dancing with me and they didn’t even complain about it. They just continued on with practicing even if they were exhausted.

I woke them up and sent them to the dorm with Winwin and then I went to buy some ice-cream for the members, especially for Winwin. He really likes ice-cream. Everytime he does the moves right I reward him with his favorite ice-cream flavor.

I remember the first time we met. He was a shy little chicken.

We were taking a break from practice that day. We stayed at the dorm, planning to watch a movie together to relax after a full week of training.

It was exhausting as a trainee, especially if you’re from the first three companies. The pressure was overwhelming. People always say that if you come from one of the Big Three, you’ll have instant fame without working hard, but as a trainee you need to work twice as hard. You have to exceed their expectations and carry the reputation of the other senior groups on your shoulder.

Nevertheless, it was worth it, every single part of it.

We had been promised to debut as a group soon, so it was an idiotic move if we had backed off and gave up then.

Anyway, we chose the movie and prepared food and drinks for it, but before Mark pressed the play button, our future manager entered the room, leaving us surprised by his sudden visit. We looked at each other worrying about what was going to happen. We thought that one of us had to leave the agency, that we did something wrong.

“Hello boys. I’ll go straight to the point. We have one new trainee who is going to train with you.” Some of us frowned obviously. It was another unknown boy who could debut before us and, of course, the competitive spirit grew inside us.

A few months before, a Chinese trainee had been accepted in our company and we didn’t get to see him that often since then. He mostly trained in China. We didn’t know anything about him at all, just his name: Qian Kun.

Some of us didn’t want another mysterious guy like him with us, we wanted to be friends with someone bright. “Please welcome Dong Sicheng.”

We glanced at the door as it opened and we saw a somehow tall boy. He looked very young, he seemed like he was 17 or 18. His expression could show a lot about him: he was surely nervous and shy; he also looked kind of afraid or something like that.

Jaehyun always told me that my gaze could intimidate people, but I didn’t think it had been because of me. “Hello. I-I am Dong Sicheng, but you can call me Winwin!” he presented himself in chinese.

We all looked at Hansol, waiting for him to translate what Sicheng had said, then we welcomed him. He was going to stay with that Kun guy, but he came in South Korea to train with us too.

We got along well in the end. He was nice and bubbly, a good person to hold on to.

I entered the convenience store and went right to the ice-cream aisle. I picked an ice-cream for each of the members with their favorite flavor. Everyone had a very different taste, it was like you could find out about their personality by their favorite ice-cream.

I felt shivers down my spine as I sensed a pair of eyes staring at me. I turned around and searched my surroundings, seeing a boy who was glaring at me.

I was shocked. He looked exactly like me.

“What the hell..” I rubbed my eyes lightly then looked at him again, but he wasn’t there anymore. I must have imagined it, the tiredness had surely gotten to my head. I went to the cash register and bought the ice-cream.

My mind was full of thoughts. “Seems like I could really use some sleep.”

Crossing the street, a car braked and stopped right next to me. I cursed under my breath and tried to look at who the driver was, but I couldn’t see anything. The car honked and avoided me, continuing its road. It looked fancy, the driver must have been a rich person.

“What an idiot.”

I started walking again, thinking about the man I saw in the convenience store, the driver. My feet were walking by themselves. Today was a totally weird day. I looked quickly at my phone, when a hard object hit me on the back of my head, knocking me out. I fell down, darkness being the last thing I saw before I lost my consciousness.

What the hell happened?

#nctinc #nctwork #taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong angst #taeyong scenario #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #nct scenarios #exo #exo scenarios #kpop scenarios #winwin #suho #jaehyun #kun #mark

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southeastasianists · 8 years ago

Link

In November last year, Ros Sokny, an ambitious and friendly 36-year-old businesswoman from Kratie in eastern Cambodia, made the five-hour journey to Phnom Penh’s De Beaute Clinic, a private cosmetic surgery hospital tucked away in the capital’s western fringes. She had been considering breast augmentation surgery for several months, but in October, the mother of four came across an advert from De Beaute promoting the procedure at a discounted price on her Facebook feed. After discussing the idea with her husband, she booked in the operation, handed over a reported $3,000 to De Beaute and drove to Phnom Penh for a consultation.

What should have been a relatively straightforward surgery took a tragic turn once Sokny was anaesthetised. Following an undisclosed complication, she was rushed to the intensive care unit of a nearby private hospital with an organ infection. Three days after going under the knife, she died. The clinic was subsequently closed and is currently under police investigation for possible evidence of malpractice. Sokny’s death made national news headlines but, according to police officials, suspects at De Beaute “escaped” before they could be questioned. Despite being unclear how many suspects were at large, deputy municipal police chief Song Ly assured a reporter from the Cambodia Daily that the police were “looking for them”.

Speaking to Southeast Asia Globe almost a month after his late wife’s death, Phai Veasna expressed his anguish. “My tears have run dry. Right now, I’m scrambling to my feet to pay back the loans that we took for the surgery and to take care of my children’s school fees and expenses. I don’t really know if I can do all this alone without her,” he said, adding that the clinic had not contacted him or offered any compensation.

“My wife was still young and full of life. This was the biggest mistake of our lives. When her condition became serious, the cosmetic surgeon told me to go to another clinic for treatment because he did not have the equipment to treat her.”

The fact that a growing number of middle-class Cambodians such as Sokny are seeking such procedures indicates that cosmetic surgery in the fast-developing country is shifting away from being an industry aimed at the cashed-up, glamorous and famous.

'Brain boosters’ and liver detoxification serums on shelves inside Vita Longa ‘Brain boosters’ and liver detoxification serums on shelves inside Vita Longa This increased demand has partly been fuelled by a flood of new and often unregulated clinics such as De Beaute that offer cheaper services to lure in a wider spectrum of the Cambodian population, according to Thida Khus, a prominent women’s rights campaigner and the executive director of Silaka, a local capacity-building NGO. She has a number of reservations regarding the safety of such clinics: “It is dangerous. There is no effective monitoring or restriction on the people training and operating in the business”.

“The problem is the state, who do not accept their responsibility to monitor this industry. Competition among [the clinics] themselves isn’t enough [to improve safety standards],” she added. “There have been many cases of people who wanted to get a nose adjustment but have had horrible complications because the procedure was badly performed with poor materials.”

Despite the dangerously under-qualified clinicians, doctors and quacks working in Cambodia, the country’s – and more broadly Southeast Asia’s – cosmetic medicine sector is thriving. A report released last November by research firm MarketsAndMarkets found that while North America is the world’s largest medical aesthetics market, the Asia-Pacific market is set to grow at the fastest rate from now until 2021. By that year, the global medical aesthetics market will be worth $13.29 billion, with a compound annual growth rate of 10.8% from 2016-21, the report stated.

A separate report released by Grand View Research in June 2016 contended that by 2014, the Asia-Pacific region was already the biggest aesthetic medicine market in the world. Although South Korea, China and Japan are by far the largest contributors to the market size, Southeast Asian nations such as Cambodia have also anecdotally seen a growth in the industry.

Preedinoot Sripradoo is the director of Vita Longa clinic in Phnom Penh’s affluent Boeung Keng Kang 1 suburb, which specialises in placenta-based and stem cell rejuvenation treatments. She believes that the industry growth is driven by insecurities, and that a smooth, wrinkle-free face and full, collagen-injected lips are markers of perfection in an increasingly appearance-driven Cambodian society. “Imagine you are not beautiful but ugly. You would be uncomfortable and not confident in yourself. You would be afraid of going everywhere and to do things. There would be no use in having life,” she said in a stark commentary.

Clinicians in Phnom Penh interviewed for this story expressed contradictory sentiments about the level of regulation and safety within the beauty industry. Sripradoo claimed that over the past five years, the Ministry of Health has been “working hard” due to the mass proliferation of new clinics. “They are very strict with regulations,” she added.

Yet others expressed concern over a lack of regulatory oversight. Sem Rotana, the owner of Dr Skin clinic, located in a condominium near Boeung Trabek, said: “To open a licensed clinic through the Ministry of Health, you need to be a qualified doctor. Unfortunately, many clinics these days open without any qualifications at all.”

“Patients are not that ready to trust cosmetic doctors at the moment. There have been too many stories of people having bad experiences. Nowadays, they really want to see certificates,” she added.

But certification is not a guarantee of quality, according to activist Khus. “The [private beauty clinics] that provide these services also provide training. If you pay enough money, you can get certified quickly.”

Somany Yen, the clinic manager at MD7 clinic in Phnom Penh’s south, agreed that a significant number of practitioners claim to be qualified after minimal training. “They go to learn a short course for three months or four months and think they know how to do plastic surgery, and then they do it,” she said.

Speaking to Southeast Asia Globe last month, Sok Kanha, deputy director of the Ministry of Health’s planning and health information department, seemed unclear whose jurisdiction the regulation of cosmetic surgery clinics fell under, while the ministry’s hospital department did not respond to requests for comment. “All I can tell you is that we provide licences only to hospitals, polyclinics and private clinics. I’m not sure if within the ministry we have policies about cosmetic clinics,” Kanha said.

Plastic surgeon Reid Sheftall – also an MIT graduate, former physics lecturer at the University of Southern California, author, actor, film director and professional golfer – operates out of his own private clinic in Phnom Penh Central Hospital. He emphasised that his operating room was “very clean, very modern” and that “you couldn’t find a better one even in San Francisco”, yet he confided that there was a lot of “faux-medical stuff that goes on” elsewhere in Cambodia.

“When I first got here, women were going to these beauty clinics and having negative suction cups put on their breasts and then pulled very hard. Women thought this would make their breasts bigger but all it did was tear the ligaments. It was terrible,” he said.

Sheftall also highlighted the dangers of Cambodia’s popular skin-whitening treatments, often acknowledged as the Asian beauty industry’s cash cow. Whitening creams, serums, peels, injectables and pills can be found almost everywhere in Phnom Penh, from tiny local market stalls, roadside pharmacies and supermarkets right through to swish, costly clinics and international aesthetic franchises. “I have had a couple of patients crawling into the clinic vomiting after applying too much [whitening cream] on their skin. You shouldn’t put that poison on your skin,” he said.

In 2011, a study by Phnom Penh’s University of Health Sciences found that 15% of commercially available skin whitening creams and 30% of those found in specialist beauty clinics contained illegally high levels of toxic compounds such as mercury. The treatments also often contain salicylic acid, arsenic and lead, which can not only burn the skin but also cause the liver and brain to swell.

It is difficult to establish the scale of the market in Cambodia, due to the lack of reliable data and an abundance of unregistered clinics. However, every practitioner that spoke to Southeast Asia Globe reported a growing demand for aesthetic medicine procedures in the country. “There has been a big increase in the number of beauty clinics in Phnom Penh,” said Rotana.

Corroborating this, Sheftall said: “Over the years, demand for my services has increased tenfold. It has gone way up.” He attributed this largely to the swift growth of Cambodia’s middle class. “In the past, the prices here were super low, but people still couldn’t afford it. But now, there is a middle class that didn’t exist here before.”

Khus added that the stylistic influence of Korea has also helped to grow the aesthetics market. “Korean cinema has invaded Cambodia and had a big impact on the population,” she said.

Social media is undoubtedly a key driver of the industry and is used extensively by beauty clinics to market their services. Sripradoo claimed that “Facebook is the main media source in Cambodia” and that her clinic utilises the platform extensively. Indeed, the Vita Longa Clinic page is updated with glossy photos of white-skinned, round-eyed patients with great frequency. Special promotions for ‘meso-fat therapy’, intravenous ‘liver detox’, ‘brain booster’ and ‘beauty booster’ treatments, as well as various laser treatments are employed regularly.

The now defunct and shuttered De Beaute Clinic still has a public Facebook page; a series of posts last year advertised procedures such as ‘rhinoplasty and peeling’ for less than $2,000, ‘dimples’ for $250, liposuction for $1,600 and breast augmentation for “about $3,500”.

Dr Skin, meanwhile, uses Cambodian pop stars, actors and models to promote treatments such as ‘mega-botox’ and ‘V-shaped face’ procedures. Dalice Katam Sovandalice, an assistant at the practice, said that famous Cambodians receive “discounts” in exchange for their help with promotion.

Slick marketing is not the be all and end all, however, and in a climate of stiff competition, results are also critical. “The middle class is growing and very informed. They learn, they search and they check before they go,” said Sripradoo. “Right now, the medical treatments and the beauty industry standards are getting higher.”

The clinic director also added that improved education would raise competency among practitioners. “The University of Health Sciences in Cambodia is promoting a dermatology department so they can train dermatologists and plastic surgeons. I think it is going to leave the Cambodian beauty industry with better standards,” she said.

Surgeon Reid Sheftall relies simply on word of mouth. “I get people from Australia, France, Singapore, Hong Kong. Everybody flies here. You do one, they go home, show their friends and then ten more come,” he said.

One Cambodian woman, who asked to be identified as ‘Bopha’, explained to Southeast Asia Globe how she convinced herself to get a recent rhinoplasty procedure. “I highly trust the clinic that I went to. You can’t trust every beauty clinic in Phnom Penh, however. Sometimes, a recommendation is the only way to ensure quality,” she said.

However, for Phai Veasna, still coming to terms with the loss of his wife, the industry can never be endorsed. “Some of those doctors are not even sure about the results themselves,” he said.

As standards improve, pricing remains competitive and treatments become increasingly fashionable, it seems certain that the beauty business will only continue to grow in Cambodia. In the words of Dr Skin’s Rotana: “People love it and come back for more and more. Today they’ll do one injection, tomorrow they’ll do another.”

#Southeast Asia #Cambodia #Beauty Industry

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