#chicken pho is better though I like chicken pho :)

[donuts4evry1]

// People mispronouncing pho ("fuh"- it's really spelled phở because our accents are confusing and hate you with a passion) does actually give me psychic damage. The noodle soup is not your "foe," it's your "fuh"-riend :(

and that's why this store is the funniest thing I've ever seen

#just pronounce pho correctly and you get ''fuh-king'' which. #ehe #ehehehehehehehe #cw cursing #but actually also....... I personally don't like pho all that much :( #the beef broth is a lil too rich and greasy and I don't like the sweetness :( #chicken pho is better though I like chicken pho :) #also on vietnamese accents I've never had a nonviet person pronounce my last name correctly #it's just a minor annoyance but looking back on it it makes me... kind of sad #people try their hardest though so i can't blame them #i've had my first name said really really incorrectly before though (even though it's traditionally a white name) so maybe people just- #-don't know how to pronounce names haha #i do feel a bit sorry for my bro tho because he has a viet 1st name and no one says it right (or maybe I say it wrong? Hmm...) #suddenly feeling a little envious of japanese names.... you can never really be 100% sure how to pronounce them (unless they're hiragana)- #-but at the very least you have to the pronunciation somewhere in hiragana #mun rambles

[sizzlingcandyjellyfishhh]

My picky eating used to be so bad that if my fries (the only thing I ate at restaurants) were touching another food item, like if they ordered the raising canes combo so I could have the fries and the fries weren’t served separately from the chicken tenders, I couldn’t eat them. It was too scary for me. still don’t like food touching but now I could eat fries that have touched fried chicken and even can eat some chicken I’m so glad it’s gotten better cause my diet being that limited was exhausting and everyone hated me. everything had to be catered to my eating habits. no we can’t go to chipotle they don’t have fries. no we can’t eat at that Indian place they don’t have fries. still definitely pretty picky though but I’ve been able to try different kinds of food like Italian, Japanese, Greek, Indian, Vietnamese, etc. Very freeing. Still love fries but now I can go out and get some pho or ravioli or curry or udon

[apolloendymion]

listen to me. i am talking directly in your ear now.

save your kitchen scraps. I'm talking carrot tops, peels, and greens. the tops & skins of onion and garlic. celery leaves. squash rinds. citrus peels. apple cores. tomatoes and lettuce that are just a little too wilted/mushy to be palatable. eggshells. cheese rinds. chicken skin. potato skins if you washed the dirt off. the water/oil from canned foods. BONES!! skins, peels, stems, leaves, anything that isn't poisonous but you wouldn't normally eat. we're going to make some fucking Broth.

(note: cruciferous veggies like brussels sprouts are ok in small quantities, but keep in mind that they're bitter and may bitter-ize your broth in larger amounts.)

put those scraps in a bag in the freezer. I'd recommend storing the liquids in a separate bag from the solids. add scraps whenever you've got em, until you've accrued about half a gallon ziplock of solids. now, you're Ready.

put a little oil at the bottom of a soup pot. just enough to sauté your solids. add some minced garlic and herbs/spices, if you have them (dried is fine, but i don't recommend powdered spices unless they're all you've got.) i like warming spices like star anise and cardamom pods; they make it taste like pho, sooo cozy. and of course, bay leaves!! if you have them, put at least 3 in there. minimum. trust me.

(if you don't have/want animal parts, add a little more oil than necessary for sauteing. you're gonna want the extra, believe me. I'd also sauté for longer, and pick an oil with a little flavor if you can, like olive. canola/vegetable is perfectly fine though.)

add the solids and sauté. i usually just thaw them in the oil, but if you're better at planning than me, you can put them in the fridge the night before. ideally you should sauté until the veggies start to brown. I'm not always that patient. it's fine. just make sure everything fully thaws and separates from one another. get a thin coat of oil over everything.

next, add the liquid ingredients and fill the rest of the pot with water (taking care to leave some space in case it boils over.) bring the pot to a boil, then turn it as low as your stove allows and leave it to simmer for as long as possible. this is KEY. let that shit MARINATE. let it STEW, no pun intended. i usually try to start this project in the morning, so i can leave it for the rest of the day. i have left it on overnight before but i can't recommend that in good conscience. do not burn your house down for broth. 2 hours would probably be my absolute minimum. stay close by, and stir it every so often so it doesn't boil over. chill on the couch. watch tv. enjoy the smell that permeates your house and makes it feel like a home. it's cozy time.

add salt, tasting as you go. you don't want to overdo it. some folks say to add the salt at the sauteing stage, but i feel this gives me too little control over the final product. i need control. I've got anxiety. but you do you. live your life. I'm not your boss.

once it tastes how you want it, strain out the solids. if I'm going to make soup right away, then I'll strain the liquid directly into another pot, throw in the soup ingredients, and simmer till everything's soft. otherwise, put it in a container you can freeze for later.

rejoice. broth be upon ye.

sip it when you're sick, make it into soup, use it in a casserole, cook rice with it. give a jar to your neighbors. you are the broth god. you are unstoppable. you will never waste a vegetable piece ever again.

go forth and Experience The Broth.

#idk what to tag this as #recipes #??

[lebuc]

if you get this, answer w/ five random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn't matter, let's get to know the person behind the blog! No pressure though! 🌻

i like mojitos, grilled chicken, pork or veal, smoked salmon; noods - plenty of noods - in Pho, all the better piano jazz outdoors on a deck under a moonlit sky special someones sitting beside the smoldering fire in the pit OG gamer - i actually liked Myst learning to play the piano (...for real, this time)

love the 3R's - reading, 'riting & retro cinema will darn near cry espying a western sky at dusk. Tag:

@holeinthehedgerow

@bitchysoulsuit

@goneahead

@half-a-heart-without-you

@foggyladywolf

@madworlddiary

@xxyxxyart

@a-little-less-peckinpah

#Lebuc's random facts

[huginsmemory]

favorite ramen recipe 🙏😮? wanna try smthg ober than chicken and pepper🥴

Oh I can absolutely share it! The thing is though, it's not really a single recipe I use- it really depends on what I've got in my fridge at the time, haha, which makes it really versatile as a recipe. I have a tendency to 'free-style' a bit as I cook so the recipe isn't going to be given to you in cups, my apologies, nor is it really gonna be done in a 'traditional' ramen manner, as I tend to bastardized recipes. Below I've broken it down into three different categories: there's the stock, there's the noodles and there's toppings.

Stock

Put on a pot to boil- half the size of the bowl you have is one portion, as you'll be adding noodles and toppings on top of the broth. So eye the water going in for how many portions (bowls of water) you want. Mix in any broth base- I have a preference of beef, as I feel that would be closer to what is generally used in ramen, but any will do (I generally use more than the suggested amount of broth to put in since I like things salty). Some vegetable broth however will be very heavy in flavour of celery- so I would steer clear of those, but if that's all you got then that's all you got! Into the pot it goes. I then slice ginger and garlic and throw it in as well- for six cups I maybe put in 3-4 medium garlic cloves and about 1.5x the amount for ginger. Pour in soya sauce- for about six cups I maybe put in 1/3 cup of soya sauce. Let simmer.

That's a general broth; however you can mix it up by adding miso and removing most of (or leaving in) the ginger and garlic to get a miso-ramen. Or, you can add a few star anise and a stick of cinnamon and if you have it a bit of all-spice and 1-3 cloves to get a similar flavour profile to pho.

Noodles:

Find noodles; obviously, if there's ramen or Asian style noodles then that is preferred. Vermicelli or other glass noodles are less ramen-like but also perfectly serviceable. If you're really desperate, spaghetti noodles can also work, but then that's blasphemous and why are you not having spaghetti then? have I done this before when I was young and unaware and working with limited ingredients? Yes.

Boil a separate pot from the stock, and this is where you'll boil your noodles in- if you're lazy, then you can also boil your noodles in the stock pot. However, boiling your noodles in the stock pot means your noodles if left in long with get soggy which is not as desirable. This is also why if there's leftovers (which there always is) put the noods and the broth in separate containers. But again, it REALLY depends on how much work you wanna do.

Toppings:

This is where it gets fun. You can put whatever you want on-top; obviously, there's preferred things to put on top, so I'll list a few of my favourite.

Eggs! This means a third pot on the stove, or if you strategically remove the noodles out of their pot, you can boil the egg in the noodle water. Peel, cut in half and plop on top of your noodles the two halves. Or, a less preferred method, fry an egg sunny side up instead to be added, or just crack an egg into the simmering broth.

Meat- honestly, cold cuts and bacon are the best for this (assuming your not out buying the presliced raw meat specific for having with hotpot or something). If it's cheap soft bacon, I suggest frying it in a pan breifly before putting it on top of your soup, as if you dont cook it, you tend to swallow the slippery bacon whole which is not particularly pleasant. Cold cuts such as sliced ham and baloney (yes, baloney) are really fucking good in ramen, and are cheap and easy to get. Lie/tuck the meat in once the noodles and the broth and veggies have been added to the bowl; the broth will heat up the sliced meat. Or, lazily just throw the meat into the pot. That works perfectly well as well, and if you have thick slices of something this may work better as well.

Tofu you can also add! What I like to do is pre-slice the tofu thin and let marinate in a soya sauce-brown sugar sauce. If you're feeling fancy you can add a bit of grated ginger and chopped garlic for extra flavour, then fry it up in a pan (with lots of oil, to minimize burning) to get the tofu nice and crisp, and can be laid on top of the ramen when assembling it. Or you can just cut it into chunks and throw it into the broth while it's simmering as well. All different modicums of how much work you wanna put into it!

Veggies- these you chop up and toss into pot while it's simmering. Any type of non-poisonous mushrooms, sliced, also work as well as things such as Bok Choy, carrot, onions, cabbage, eggplant, corn, lotus root, leeks, dried seaweed, so on and so forth. Search up toppings to ramen/hot pot and you'll get a long list of things you can add! I generally ogle my fridge and go, hey that would do well in it and toss it in. You can also gently heat thinly sliced eggplant until it's soft on a frying pan and let it sit in soya sauce-brown sugar mix (or even just soya sauce, or you can pour it on top while gently heating) and it adds an extra kick of flavour when you add it into your ramen.

Cheese! Grated cheese (I like cheddar for this) can be placed on top to add an extra savoury taste and pairs really well with spicy broth.

Green onions I like to chop up and add as a garnish in the end.

Assembling the ramen at the end looks like this (if you go the more extra route): add noodles to bowl, then pour over broth with veggies, and then place in any protien, fancy veggies/tofu or cheese, and then place on top chopped green onions. Add soya sauce and spicy sauces to taste! Hope this wasn't too confusing, and enjoy your ramen! ❤️

#recipe #asks! #ask #ramen #ramen recipe #part of me is worried someone is going to be horrified with my poor mans ramen #look. look. i learned to cook with whatever ingredients i had and it means you make do with what u got #i guess its more hotpot then ramen??? #anyways uh yeah #huginspeaks #its like. choose ur own adventure ramen. choose ur own ramen

[firstdove15]

May Reading

Literally every book I read this month was a three star for me. It wasn’t disappointing though because I did get through some books I had on my TBR for a bit that weren’t a priority but because of AAPI Month it was a boost I need to read them (of course, ideally, I want to diversify my reading year round).

So, yeah:

1) It All Came Back to You by Farah Naz Rishi (Three Stars)

The summary made it sound like this book focused on enemies to lovers but it really focused more on the protagonists’ relationships with their respective siblings. Yeah, the romance was there but it wasn’t the focus (which was fine because, despite going in expecting enemies to lovers, I found myself being neutral with the minor romantic aspect parts of the book). So it was one of those books where it was well done, but the marketing for it could’ve been so much better. The sibling relationships were the meat of the story and they were chef’s kiss.

...Maybe I should up the rating to four?

2) Rent a Boyfriend by Gloria Chao (Three Stars)

I had this in my TBR for a bit because I read Chao’s American Panda a couple of years ago and loved it....and also didn’t expect the feels that came with it. I anticipated it being the case here and, yep, it was. The humor was top notch like American Panda. The romance was fine, probably even better than the one in American Panda, but I did care more about the protagonists’ individual journey. I’m glad I finally sat down and read it.

3) Radha and Jai’s Recipe for Romance by Nisha Sharma (Three Stars)

Surprising no one, this book made me crave Indian food and prompted me to try biryani and chicken tikki masala for the first time in my life. I was surprised that dancing was just as big of a part as cooking so I wasn’t prepared for that thinking it was a love story heavily focused on cooking. I didn’t have as much fun with this story as I did My So Called Bollywood Life but, again, I’m glad I read it. I’m going to do proper research and see if I want to check out Sharma’s adult romance series and see how it compares to her YA.

4) A Pho Love Story by Loan Le (Three Stars)

....And I tried pho for the first time in my life because of this book. XD I liked the humor in this one and it did hit hard with the Vietnamese diaspora and I anticipated that so, again, I was more intrigued by the characters’ relationships with their parents and how they deal with generational trauma. The romance itself was fine but, yeah.

5) A Thousand Steps into Night by Traci Chee (Three Stars)

Despite still being in the middle of Chee’s first trilogy, I was excited to read this standalone and I did have fun for the most part. I enjoyed the characters, I enjoyed the footnotes Chee added as if the story was also a textbook, and I enjoyed the journey. The feminist message might be a little on the nose for some but, hey, it’s not like the points that were made were wrong. And because of [redacted] I’m still bothered by how the main character got cursed in the first place. The blessing and curse of the [redacted] twist. XD

So, yeah, Chee is still an auto-read for me when it comes to her fantasy novels. I do plan on reading her contemporary someday but waiting for the stars to align. @_@

6) And I was in the middle of volume one of Komi Can’t Communicate but I can’t tell if I’m not one hundred feeling the story or if I’m coming down with another reading slump. I hope not. XP

Plans for June

1) I’m waiting for Flip the Script by Lyle Lee to get here because I absolutely loved I’ll Be the One.

2) I had caved and bought His Secret Illuminations by Scarlett Gale because of the gorgeous paperart I saw and, doing research, it sounds like it’s up my alley for the most part.

3) I also bought Across a Field of Starlight by Blue Delliquanti today so I want to read that.

If I read anything else, that’s a bonus because, again, I’m not sure if I’m entering another slump or if I’m just not really vibing with Komi. We’ll see.

#faye reads #personal #i can excuse buying the last book bc i just came across it while looking for books for dad for upcoming father's day

[missguomeiyun]

Homecooking [Dec ed]

The last homecooking post of 2023~

But 1st, here's a Starbucks drink I got - too sweet! I wasn't a fan but I've tried it & it is a pass for me.

Oh & here's another one from earlier in the month:

It was alright... will stick to my triple shot iced Americano though. Just plain & simple.

So why the influx of Starbucks drinks?

2 reasons: I got Starbucks giftcards so I have Starbucks money to spend that I didn't . .. pay for haha & more importantly, I don't have a new routine yet =( I didn't change location of employment but my POE changed & as a result, some things aren't the way they were anymore. Under the former boss, there was free tea & coffee available. I didn't normally drink the coffee but it was there. I would oftentimes bring my own tea/coffee & use hot water to make it but hot water during the day time is like . .. a limited resource. I don't know why/how the water lines/systems work but I think more ppl use it during the day time & once the reservoir is out, it doesn't get refilled??? But it's a hot + cold water dispenser so I don't get it. Anyway, the point is - I can't make my own coffee/tea anymore. So I've been going to Starbucks *Sigh* I really don't wanna go bcos it takes time to get there so it cuts into my break.. . but I need to figure something out =/ like get up even earlier to make coffee?

Now let's go onto the homecooking.

Pesto pasta!

Fried rice with chicken breast & baby bokchoy; topped with dried seaweed.

Microwaved dumpling & a small Korean soy bean paste stew with noodles. Okay, I've never microwaved dumplings before. .. it was not good! I added some water so it wouldn't be too dry. Micowaved it once & felt it wasn't ready yet so I added a bit more water & microwaved again. The 'skin' was weird =/ the filling (pork + corn) was okay but the skin was patchy & I'm not even entirely sure if it was fully cooked. I figured if the pork is cooked, the thin wrapper should be, right? Bleeeeh

Cold noodles + seafood dumplings & kimchi. The seafood dumplings don't look appealing at all but they were not bad. The skin is weird though. .. I think it's rice flour.

Tiramisu from Costco. 7.5/10

Udon with baby bokchoy, tofu, egg, & the 'tempura' from the tempura udon kit.

Pesto pasta again with another kind of pasta. I forgot the name of these but I like the texture of these noodles.

Instant noodle hehehe with tofu, egg, sausage & cucumber.

I experimented with new drinks during my week-long vacation. This was great! Not sharing what it is :P I've made this twice; 2nd time better. But it's the process. It is time-consuming.

Yubu-chobap; ie: tofu pockets stuffed with rice.

Mini plain kimbaps. I had leftover seasoned rice from the yubu-chobap so I rolled the remainder into these mini seaweed rolls.

Curry chicken udon

Homemade pho with leftover breakfast hashbrown lol

Deep fried oysters. These turned out really well IMHO. (used the frozen oysters from Hmart)

Pretending to be fancy.

Kimchi fried rice & dumpling+ramyeon soup.

So yeah .. despite it being a week into the new yr already, this is the final 2023 homecooking post :P

Any plans/goals for the new year in terms of cooking & eating. ..? Nothing in particular. I wanna practice latte art consistently. Like I said, I can't drink hot milk or cream so that doesn't work well with latte art practice lol yeah I don't have much plans. ..visit Korea again? xD

#food #homecooking #homemade #noodles #lunch #dinner #coffee #coffee lover #i need coffee #i love coffee #pasta #rice

[foxgloveawake]

A silly soup reflection.

Once a week I get chicken pho take-out from a restaurant. It’s my winter treat of choice. I look forward to my pho night, it’s one of those comforting weekly routines. I get it from the same place; once I like a dish from a specific restaurant I become geekily loyal to their establishment 🫡. This routine has carried on. Bowls upon bowls. Chopsticks, sprouts, mint and hoisin sauce flying everywhere.

A problem has suddenly hit, though.

The soup isn’t as good as it once was. The broth has begun to taste watered down. The chicken bits are sparse and rubbery. The flavor is muted. Dull. It has shifted further and further into the disappointment zone.

At this point, maybe most people would vocalize a complaint about the decline in quality. Maybe they would stop visiting the restaurant and find a new spot to get soup, going on a spree to discover the new restaurant to crown. Pho King. Pho Queen.

Me? I hang in there. Remembering the glory days. With hope that my bowl will improve again. Maybe this week it will taste good. Maybe this is a fluke, let’s give them a chance. Maybe it was just an off day. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

I think I do this with other things, too. With jobs, people, choices, situations etc. When it feels bad, I cling to hope that it can get better again. I wait and wish. Sometimes it does. It’s good again. That’s such a rare happening. As we all know. But I cling. I let myself stay hungry and unsatisfied. Sipping the same watery broth…when maybe there is another bowl out there that would be pleasantly explosive to the tastebuds. Warmth in the winter chill.

#mine #thoughts in my head

[ghostgirl112]

I'm back to restricting after years of not doing it because my weight got higher than ever. Before I decided to do this I was throwing up every time I ate, but I realized I couldn't just eat and throw up every day because my throat started hurting and I'm really scared of the damage stomach acid can cause to your body. I may resort to it again if I mess up, but I'd like to avoid it if possible. (I'm 5'6 btw)

D1

2 panda spring roll- 190

Coke zero- 0

5-6 fries - 60

Hot pickle - 0-10

Cookie - 90

Rockaleta - 90

435

Of course I started off on an ok note. Didn't throw up at all, kept it under 500.. was annoyed at the snacking at the end of the night because I was shocked at how many cals are in candy and cookies but I ate it anyway unfortunately

D2

Cashews~90-157

Popcorn~ 100

Seaweed snack- 20

V8 juice- 60

Seaweed snack- 20

Chipotle chips and guac- 720

Seaweed salad- 70

2 pieces of sushi~ 90

1,237

This day was horrible. I began determined to have less than the day before, but being with people, being offered food gives me an "excuse" to eat. I was shocked by the amount of cals in chips and guacamole from Chipotle, but unfortunately checked the cals after eating them already and I was determined not to throw up. After this I was discouraged and went ahead and ate what others did.. although I at least tried to keep it to a minimal amount. However, I started the day strong with healthy nutritious foods (besides popcorn).

D3

Homemade burrito (mom)

Tortilla- 80

Sour cream 2-3 tb- 66

Chicken~ 240

Soda- 200

Honey mustard mcd- 60

3 chicken nuggets- 160

Fries- 70

676

Again, I messed up at the end of the day even though I wasn't that hungry. The burrito was also a mistake, and I meant to not have anything after that. I'm very disappointed in myself for days 2 and 3. After consuming 6 chicken nuggets, 7 fries, and honey mustard sauce from McDonald's, I felt extremely guilty and threw up even though it wasn't at my house. Thankfully no one noticed at all... I didn't subtract all the calories after purging because I didn't thoroughly purge out of fear for my (immediate) health again. I don't want to get back into the habit of purging, but it felt necessary this day.

D4

Iced coffee- 200

Trail mix- 131

Flavored chickpeas- 100

Small amount of spaghetti- 50

Pho broth- 15

496

Getting better, trying not to worry about liquid calories. Treated myself and *someone* to coffee. I felt like I deserved this treat for some reason. Looking at the numbers makes me sad though..

Today is day 4, and I weighed in at 65 kg (143 lb) . On day 1 I weighed 67 kg (147 lb)

I haven't successfully restricted for a long period of time since I was 14. During that time I went from about 126lb down to 110 which was my lw. I was never sent to a clinic for recovery since no one knew, (and i wasnt scary underweight) but I have been in and out of mental clinics for most of my life for other mental issues. Luckily I think my family and friends always attributed my weight loss and gain to medicine side effects. I'm hoping to successfully conceal this issue from others again.

I hope to find others who I can talk to who have been going through this as well. (Unless you're a minor, I don't want to negatively impact any kids). I'm also pro-recovery, but I understand how this feels...

#tw ana diary #tw ana related #tw mia #ed but not sheeran

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! Well, well, well, there was a surprise in store for me during the weekly catch up with Grace and Douglas. Their baby girl has arrived! She was sleeping and I didn't want to wake her, so we'll meet another time. It was lovely seeing her parents so thrilled, albeit visibly exhausted from caring for 2 young children on their own.

[越式鸡汤果条 Chicken pho]

Douglas' mum had gone to live with his sister and his sister contracted covid. His mum is fine but can't help to care for Meatball for some time. Grace and Douglas juggle work and household chores on top of caring for the kids, including preparing Meatball for nursery class. So yeah, they're very tired and sleep as much as they can. They still enjoy our catch ups so I've shortened the duration to let them rest more.

[酿豆腐 Niang dou fu $7.30 肉汁粗米粉 Thick vermicelli in meat gravy (not pictured) $2]

I need the rest too; work is much busier now, so sleeping in on weekends is a must, as is having adequate nourishment. Meals which provide sufficient yang qi (vitality) replenish depleted energy levels to a degree. What I really look forward to is the block leave in December. That is when I can take an extended break from work and fully recharge my batteries. This year, I may take it easy rather than plan catch up after catch up with friends.

[日式滑蛋猪扒饭 Katsudon $7.50]

Firstly, I feel extremely drained and welcome a more relaxed schedule compared to a packed one. Then there is inflation, which rose again this month. Skimpflation takes the pleasure out of dining out with friends, so, put simply, I don't feel like it. I wanna fully relax during the much needed break and not have to constantly think about the nutritional value I get for my money. Lastly, whatever I save goes towards retirement so it's all good.

Look guys, I don't judge those who need help from food banks. Hard times can hit anyone so there's no shame when it comes to asking for assistance. As far as possible though, I want my retirement to be comfortable and I don't wish to spend my twilight years wondering where my next meal will come from or when it will be. If I tighten my belt now, I can boost my savings and you can bet that's what Imma do. 下次见!

#Youtube

[renjuseyo]

if ur requests are open can i pls request Jaehyun x male reader where the reader is so drunk that he forgot that his boyfriend(jaehyun) is his boyfriend. then he asks a member if he is taken and they said yes and that will make reader to silently be sad in the corner and jaehyun asks if readers ready to go home......... andddddddd ill leaveee the rest to u hehehehe (iloveurwriting so much)

tipsy ; jaehyun

group: nct

pairing: jung yoonoh / reader (male)

synopsis: both you and jaehyun knew how much of a lightweight you were, but when has that ever stopped you?

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: implied sexual content, explicit language

i lost inspiration for this, so i hope this mess of a fic is okay anon! as always, feedback is appreciated!!

when you peek through the peephole, you expect to see the delivery man holding the package you had ordered online. instead, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the other side of the door, wrapped in a hoodie, mask, and tinted sunglasses. his disguise is pretty unnecessary given how your neighbors are mainly made up of old people who have never heard of nct, but it gets the job done.

once you’ve unhooked the chain bolt, you unlock the door and swing it open. he slightly jumps at the noise, but visibly softens when he sees you. “hey (name),” he greets, slipping off his mask and sunglasses.

“hey yourself. what are you doing here?” you ask. with how hectic his schedule has been after promotions with the nct 2020 project and working as an mc on inkigayo, you two hadn’t seen each other in weeks. though you missed him, you sympathized with the tireless hours he spent working as an idol. at least you preoccupied yourself with netflix.

he slips off his sneakers and enters your home, taking off the rest of his disguise. you close and lock the door behind you, trailing behind him. “i managed to squeak in some free time today, so i came to visit you,” he explains. he faces you with a smile, pulling you close. you subconsciously lean your head onto his shoulder, humming as he sways your bodies.

“i missed you,” you tell him, fingers ghosting his waist. he makes a noise of agreement, resting his chin on your head.

you eventually pull away, eliciting a grumble from jaehyun. contrary to popular belief, he was the clingy one of you two, always using the excuse of “you’re just the perfect size for cuddling.” “stop grumbling, jae. you’ve come so far, so it’s only fair i make you something to eat,” you tell him, making your way towards the kitchen.

he follows suit, hand grabbing at the hood of your hoodie. you stop in front of the refrigerator and open it, canvassing the food you have in there. as you debate what to make for lunch, he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes both arms around your waist. you roll your eyes, though you don’t make any movements to pry his arms off. “i can always eat something else,” he smirks.

you realize too late the implications of his comment, absentmindedly sorting through the bags of vegetables in your fridge. “do you want takeout instead then? mrs. moon from two doors down said that there’s this really good pho house near here.”

he nuzzles into your shoulder. “i’d really like to eat you,” he says as nonchalantly as one can, considering his implications. you nearly drop a bag of spinach, spluttering incoherent words as you spin around to swat his shoulder. he laughs, loud and proud, a stark contrast from the quiet, polite laugh he’s practiced.

“you’re the worst,” you hiss, reluctantly closing the fridge. he pecks your cheek, eliciting a disgusted screech from you. he leans back with a laugh before attacking your face with kisses. you shut your eyes as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. but jaehyun’s been working out, evident from his arms, and he’s always had an intense grip. when he leans away, satisfied, you flick his forehead. with how clingy jaehyun’s being, making lunch isn’t an option anymore. “i hate you.”

jaehyun eventually relinquishes his attacks, threading his fingers with yours. “you’re usually not this clingy, jae. actually, now that i think about it, you don’t flirt all too much either, much less suggest sexual innuendos. what’s the occasion?” you ask as he walks you two to your living room. he doesn’t immediately respond, flopping down onto the couch and dragging you along with him. you land on his chest with an oomph, your cheek squished against his chest.

he combs his fingers through your hair, smiling as you make a noise of approval. “well, i wasn’t going to say anything before the news outlet, but...” his smile only widens when he sees you look up at him with curious eyes; he nearly coos at how innocent you look. “a certain idol you know might make his acting debut soon~”

your eyes widen, and you quickly prop yourself up with your elbows. “what! no way!” you exclaim, jaw hanging open. jaehyun laughs at your shell-shocked reaction, though it’s a given; when you were in a mood to vent, he would always take your hand and pepper your knuckles with butterfly kisses as you ranted about how he deserved better and shouldn’t only be seen as a visual, whining about how sm failed to show his talents as a singer and an actor. well, those days are over now, he supposes.

“yes way, love. are you excited?” he isn’t sure why he asked that question, considering how shell-shocked you already look. plus, the squeal that leaves your throat and the way you throw yourself onto him is answer enough already.

“do you even have to ask? you used to send me videos of you acting out different roles because you wanted to try acting, and you always did them so well! i’m really proud of you, jae. you deserve it.”

“i’m really glad you think so, (name). do you want to hear-”

“no!” you interrupt, slapping both of your palms on his mouth. he tilts his head in confusion, surprised by your sudden outburst. “knowing you, you’re going to accidentally tell me everything, and then i’m going to know the whole story line before the show even airs!”

he’s about to refute your claims, but he can’t really considering how you’ve layered both of your palms on his mouth. plus, judging by the look you give him, he’s certain he’s going to be eating his own words sooner or later. with a sigh, he peels your palms off. "you’re no fun. can i not even tell you the name and the basic plot?”

“i’m sorry for wanting to give you ratings,” you snort. “and no. then i’ll be waiting in anticipation and will force you to tell me everything, even if you tell me you can’t because i told you before not to say anything. you can’t even give me a drop of information.” well, jaehyun supposes that is true. you’ve always been enticed by television shows; he’s personally seen you react to cliffhangers a show gives before it ultimately gets cancelled. needless to say, it isn’t a pretty sight. “this calls for celebration! we can invite the boys too... do you want it to be extravagant, or are we keeping it low key?” you ask, sitting up and reaching for your phone.

“what happened to just you and me?” jaehyun asks, batting his eyelashes with feigned innocence. “i can think of a lot more fun things we can do.”

you don’t even bat an eye; unlike earlier, you were prepared for this kind of comment. “shoving my foot up your ass sounds really fun, but unfortunately that won’t get me any food. the boys probably already knew before i did, so you’ve probably already celebrated with them... i guess we can keep it simple.”

“i’d take your foot any day,” he fires back with a heavily exaggerated moan, to which you respond with a slap on the arm.

“i’m telling johnny to bring over beer.” you’re texting a group chat with you and the other 127 members. you’re only dating jaehyun, yet sometimes it feels like you’re dating all of them with how close you are. plus, gossiping with jungwoo about your boyfriend is always fun. with him being his roommate, you both often share similar struggles.

he rolls his eyes, stretching over to wrap his arms around your waist. he peers over your shoulder to look at your screen. “please, (name). you’re the lightest lightweight i’ve ever met. who are you telling to bring over drinks? you’re like a baby.”

“fuck you.”

“i think it’s the other way around, but i’d gladly let you order me around~” he flirts.

you shove a pillow in his face as you fire off a text.

after ordering pizza, tteokbokki, and fried chicken, your dinner is nearly complete. the boys were coming over soon, with johnny being in charge of drinks, jungwoo in charge of takeout, and donghyuck in charge of entertainment. you had a nintendo switch jaehyun had gifted you two years ago, and you intended on making full use of it tonight.

(plus, you have yet to beat yuta at super smash bros. today is going to be that day.)

you had finished clearing the table for the food before you notice jaehyun’s sleeping frame on the couch. you’re about to walk over and reprimand him for being unproductive, but seeing how tired and peaceful he looks stops you. instead, you grab a blanket from your room and drape it over him.

you’re about to walk away and grab water bottles for everyone when you feel something tugging your hand. craning your neck, you smile at jaehyun’s hooded eyes laced with sleep. “c’mere,” he murmurs.

water bottles can wait, then. you pat jaehyun’s side, and he scoots over to allow room for you. as you slot yourself in his arm, spreading a leg across his, he makes a noise of satisfaction, eyes fluttering close. “someone’s tired,” you observe, pushing the mop of black bangs obscuring his eyes. “did practice run late?”

he avoids your gaze. “no, i spent the night playing uno with johnny, ten, and mark,” he admits.

you laugh. “must have been intense. i bet you were so burnt out from uno,” you sympathize with sarcasm. “but in general, don’t overexert yourself, okay? i know you’ve been busy, but you need to remember to take care of yourself.”

jaehyun nods, but a yawn rips out of his chest. you give him a knowing look, one that reads what did i say? which causes him to laugh. “yes sir,” he lazily responds.

“as tired as you may be, don’t go falling asleep on me now. the others are going to be here soon. what would they think, the guest of honor asleep at his own party?” you chuckle, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead.

he beams at the gesture. “give me more kisses and i’ll think about it,” he coaxes.

usually you don’t give in to his bratty demands, but seeing how tired he is reminds you of the accomplishments he’s achieved in the past year. a kiss is the least you could down. you lean down, breath fanning his lips, and he closes his eyes in contentment.

a few seconds pass, but the kiss never comes. when jaehyun opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see you’re no longer by his side, instead standing by the door. “that’s one way of telling a guy to come and get it,” he sighs, sitting up. he wearily rubs his eyes, blurry eyes watching you.

“sorry jae, taeil-hyung just texted saying they’re here,” you apologize. he sighs, eventually standing up after a few moments of stretching.

just as you had said, knocks resonate throughout your home, signalling their arrival. you peek through the peephole to verify their identities and sure enough, all nine other members stand outside, arms loaded. you undo the chain lock and swing the door open, greeting everyone.

“thanks for having us,” taeyong smiles, stepping into your home. everyone else echoes his message, but it comes out mumbled, like they hadn’t thought of saying anything until taeyong. the power a leader has, you suppose.

“no problem. here, let me grab some of the food.” you scurry over to jungwoo and mark, whose arms were loaded with the takeout you ordered.

as you grab a box of pizza from mark, johnny slaps you on the back. you nearly lurch forward and drop the pizza; if you had, johnny would be first on your hit list. “so jaehyun finally told you?” he asks with a grin.

“thank god. he spent days talking about ways to tell you, knowing how excited you’d be,” sicheng snorts, slipping off his shoes.

you laugh, especially when you see jaehyun spluttering in embarrassment. “you could’ve fooled me. all he did was waltz in and drop the news after he nearly fell asleep. made me feel like a proud parent and everything.”

“you may feel like one now, but wait until you watch him act. just going to be lots of cringing and teasing,” doyoung sneers, elbowing his shoulder.

yuta rolls his eyes. “like you’re one to talk, mr. lead actor.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “lead actor?!” doyoung laughs, answering your question. “good for you, hyung!”

jaehyun narrows his eyes. “why do you look more amazed at his news than mine?!”

i’m not a lightweight, you told yourself. i can handle whatever yuta throws at me, you told yourself.

you were sorely mistaken.

jaehyun notices this too, seeing you sway in your seat. he chuckles at the sight; you were never able to hold your liquor, and when you got drunk, you were quite the spontaneous drinker to deal with. one time you had drank so much that you cried over cute things, like when sicheng showed you a picture of his dogs. or the one time you were a man on a mission, flirting with all of the members. needless to say, that led to a very interested jaemin and a very pouty jaehyun.

you had initially planned on just sticking to soda, but yuta had wanted to make things more interesting and challenged you to a game of super smash bros. each time the loser lost, they would have to down a can of beer. despite your inability to hold your liquor, it activated your competitive nature. but of course, yuta is crazy good at any games he suggests, completely demolishing you with lucina. no matter which character you chose, you were just no match against him.

after several fruitless attempts, you’re seated between taeil and sicheng, who seem way too interested in the tteokbokki to notice your behavior. everyone else seems occupied, too; johnny, yuta, jungwoo, and donghyuck are playing mario kart 8, taeyong and mark are immersed in yet another one of their deep, contemplative conversations, and doyoung’s watching the whole scene unfold, supervising everyone (probably to ensure nothing ends up in flames). on the other hand, jaehyun’s sitting on your sofa, alternating between watching the four men in front of your television screaming and you in your tipsy state. he decides to stick with the latter.

eventually you lift your eyes up and make eye contact with jaehyun, who responds with a wink. seeing you flush and look away has his chest swelling with giddiness; you’re just too cute sometimes. the table isn’t far from the sofa, so he can hear any conversation that goes on there. he watches as you take another sip of your can, eyes shifting back and forth from the television and to him. you stare at him for a bit longer, eyes canvassing his face, his posture, his thoughts.

it seems sicheng notices your staring, sitting back down and nudging your shoulder. “what’s so interesting that it’s gotten your attention?” he asks, purposefully raising his voice so jaehyun can hear.

you flush at how loud he is, lazily putting a finger to your lips. “shhh, i’m staring at the pretty boy there.” you point your chin towards jaehyun, who pretends to not see. you’ve never been subtle when you were drunk, but telling you that would just lead to you loudly slurring your arguments. “do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

jaehyun nearly spits out his beer. of all the times you’ve gotten drunk, you’ve never once forgotten that you were his boyfriend - if anything, you were all too eager to prove just how much you belonged to him. he’s not sure whether to feel startled or amused.

sicheng chooses the latter, a smirk forming. “yeah, he has a boyfriend,” he tells you. jaehyun hopes you’ll realize that you’re the boyfriend in question, but seeing how you deflate like a balloon, he guesses not. he questions how much you’ve had to drink.

you slide off of your chair, pouting. “of course a guy as attractive as him has a boyfriend. i’m not surprised,” you grumble, crossing your arms. jaehyun can’t help the amused smirk that makes its way on his face. watching you envy yourself for being his boyfriend is very amusing.

sicheng must feel the same, stifling his laughter. “don’t look so bitter, (name). his boyfriend’s a good guy.”

you pout, crossing your arms. “well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” you boast, standing up.

sicheng can only watch in amusement as you stagger towards the kitchen. if only you knew how strange that statement was. “if you’re so confident about that, then what are you doing? planning on hiding in the kitchen to wallow on your sorrows?” he teases.

“i’m not!” you protest. “i’m just going to get some water because i’m dizzy as fuck and possibly cry about how single i am.” you mumble the last part, though because sicheng has uncanny hearing, he probably heard, if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

jaehyun decides it’s time to intercept, because as amusing as things were, he hoped you weren’t actually going to cry about being single, especially since you had no reason to. he stops by the dining table where taeil and sicheng are. “so i heard you and (name) were talking about me.”

sicheng snorts, rolling his eyes. “just because we said pretty boys doesn’t mean we were talking about you.”

though unaware of the topic, taeil leans in, chewing on a mouthful of pizza. “yeah, for all we know, he could be talking about me!” he chirps. he’s met with an annoyed glare from sicheng (though both of them can see him stifling his laughter), which he responds with an air kiss. typical taeil.

“well, i’m going to check up on him. i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” he teases. taeil looks a little too happy at the joke, whereas sicheng threatens to stab him with a fork. it’s amusing watching their reactions, considering how everyone around them already knows that they’re dating. those two just haven’t admitted anything yet.

he follows you into the kitchen, though you don’t seem to notice, too busy pouring yourself a glass of cold water.  “(name),” he greets.

you jump in surprise, nearly spilling water on yourself. when you turn to face jaehyun, your confident nature immediately disappears, quickly replaced with one of bashfulness. “you know me?” you ask, in awe of how said pretty boy could possibly recognize you.

if only you knew just how well he knew you, he thinks to himself. instead, he decides to play along; you’re obviously too drunk to realize how silly this seems. “i do,” he hums, patting your shoulder. he isn’t sure if your red cheeks are from the alcohol or him, though he hopes for the latter. he never gets less prideful when you get all shy because of him.

hoping to maintain the confident facade you had earlier, you quickly clear your throat, looking away. “how can i help you?” you ask, taking a sip of your water.

“well, i was hoping if we could talk in a more... private area?” he asks.

you nearly spit out your water, eyes the size of saucers. he has to stop himself from laughing, afraid the drunk you would get the wrong impression. “just to talk, that’s all. it’s kind of loud here, don’t you think?”

the screams from the living room (which are mainly from johnny and donghyuck and the occasional ones of distress from taeyong) and the volume of the television are evidence enough, so you nod in agreement. “yeah, sure.”

“perfect. let’s go then~” jaehyun laces your fingers together before you can say anything, and your ears are practically fuming with smoke. you’re too distracted by his touch to question how he knows where your bedroom is. when you both enter your room, he flops down on your bed, patting the empty spot beside him. at this, you gasp, scandalized and very flustered. he chuckles at how shy you’ve gotten, shaking his head. “my my (name), get your head out of the gutter. we’re not going to do anything... unless you want to,” he flirts.

jaehyun never tries to take advantage of you, especially when you’re not sober. but when the sober you would throw pillows (or anything that wouldn’t actually hurt him) at him for flirting with you, the drunk you would always fire back with equally flirty remarks, or the shy you would just splutter in embarrassment. he can’t help it, spewing sweet nothings to you - you’re just too fun to mess with for him to not to, especially when you’re drunk.

reluctantly you place your water on your bedside table and lower yourself beside him, heart thumping erratically. he chuckles at how timid you are, a stark contrast from the snarky (name) that he knows so well. he turns to face you, both of your faces only centimetres apart. the smell of alcohol lingers on both of you, though it isn’t as prominent on him as it is on you. he makes a mental note to ask yuta how much you’ve had.

you squeak at how close you two are, hands flying to cover your face. “you have a boyfriend,” you whisper. you’re undeniably flustered, but you would rather die than be known as a homewrecker!

his laugh startles you, even more so when he presses a hand to the small of your back. you look like you’ve committed a heinous crime, potentially causing an attractive man like jaehyun to cheat on his boyfriend. the statement is so abusrd though, considering how you’re the boyfriend in question. “i do, you are right. he won’t be mad at me, though,” he hums, leaning in so close your noses would touch if it weren’t for the makeshift barrier you’ve made from your hands. you flush red in embarrassment, hiding your eyes behind your hands. if you make eye contact with him, you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle.

“even if he didn’t mind, i don’t think we should be doing this. i know i wouldn’t be happy if my boyfriend did this,” you whisper.

jaehyun sure is having a field day with this. you’re too flustered and worried to notice the pure look of adoration he’s giving you. “call it a hunch,” he says. “i promise you, he won’t be mad at this.”

“why?”

“you’ll find out tomorrow.” he pauses as a yawn rips out of his chest. “i’m really tired, so i’m going to sleep. the boys probably won’t quiet down on my account, anyways. you can always go back to them if you want, though,” he offers. a small part of him hopes for you to stay and cuddle with him, but judging how you’re so sure he has a boyfriend who would be absolutely devastated for literally sleeping with another man and how you have no knowledge of where you stand, he wouldn’t be surprised if you left.

what does surprise him, though, is when you stay rooted in your spot on the bed. “i’m tired, too,” you say.

jaehyun smiles so sweetly, the one that has his eyes dripping with honey, that your hands fly up to cover your face again. his boyfriend must be lucky to see that sight all of the time, you bitterly think to yourself. still, even if you’re not sure why he’s flirting with you or where you stand, you decide to savor every moment that you get to spend with him. even if you don’t really know who pretty boy is, he’s sweet and kind. plus, only a fool would cover their eyes when someone as beautiful as him lays before you.

he moves an arm to pat your thigh when he freezes in midair, remembering how he’s supposed to have a boyfriend to stay loyal to (even though he’s right in front of him). he retracts his arm and instead pulls your blanket to cover your lower bodies. “goodnight, (name),” he hums, shutting his eyes.

before jaehyun can begin the long process of trying to fall asleep, he feels you tug at his t-shirt. cracking an eye open, he sees you laying before him, staring at him with curious eyes and red cheeks. oh no, now he’s really tempted to kiss you. you’re impossibly adorable, seeing how vulnerable and curious you are. “yes?” he hums, trying to stay awake. the effects from last night’s uno matches have really begin to take a toll on him.

“i don’t think i’ve gotten the chance to ask, but may i know your name?” you ask.

jaehyun chuckles. he’s flirted with you and is even sleeping in the same bed as you, yet he’s forgotten the basic courtesy that is introductions. he didn’t think he would’ve needed it, considering how you’re his boyfriend. but then again, you’ve forgotten that you are his boyfriend. “my name’s yoonoh, but you can call me jaehyun or jae.”

no one actually calls him jae except for you. it’s a short and simple nickname that you have for him, nothing endearing. but because it’s something that only you call him, even though there isn’t a meaning to it, he’s grown fond of the way it sounds leaving your lips. which is why hearing it from anyone that isn’t you only leaves a weird taste on his tongue.

you’re so drunk you don’t even remember jaehyun, nor who he is to you, so it isn’t surprising that you stick with jaehyun instead. he doesn’t mind though, because he knows when you’re sober again he’ll hear you calling him jae and cuddling into him and doing all of the coupley things he wasn’t able to do tonight.

wow, jaehyun really is a lovesick fool. it’s only been one night of not being able to cuddle or kiss you, but he feels like he’s missed a whole eternity of them. he really isn’t sure how he’s lived before you came into his life.

for an hour, you pester jaehyun on how you two became acquainted and who you were to him. he indulged you, of course, purposefully skipping over the part of you becoming boyfriends and doing things that friends definitely didn’t do. his stories seem to be an effective way of getting you to sleep, because in the middle of a story of how a pair of swapped backpacks led to your relationship, you’re lulled to sleep, tired hands clutching onto his t-shirt.

he can only chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss on your nose. you’ll sure be in for a storm when you sober up tomorrow morning.

your jaw drops as you stare at the video on doyoung’s phone. it’s of you and sicheng, and right now you can only watch in horror as you pester him for information on the pretty boy you were so interested in last night. you have no recollection of last night’s events, though watching the video makes you glad you don’t. the problem is, the boys were there to witness them, even recording evidence of it on their phones. you’ve already seen pictures that johnny and taeyong have taken from when you and jaehyun were cuddling in your bed.

“please tell me that isn’t me,” you whisper, utterly mortified.

mark pats your shoulder in sympathy. “that’s you, all right.”

at his confirmation, you groan, burying your face in your hands. doyoung and donghyuck are cackling at your demise, with sicheng reciting your complaints word from word to a very amused johnny and yuta.

“...and then he was like well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” sicheng mimics, purposefully raising his voice an octave higher as he mocks you. out of embarrassment, you reach for a pillow on your couch and fling it at him. unlike jaehyun, he’s very good at dodging, proven when he ducks. instead, the pillow smacks yuta square in the face. he throws it back at you with even more force.

you duck, the pillow smacking an unsuspecting jaehyun. he really is horrible at dodging things - how shameful. “what the hell was that for?” he splutters, picking it up from the floor.

you turn to face him, eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. “you watched me make an utter fool out of myself, and you didn’t once try to do anything about it?” you hiss.

jaehyun frowns in confusion until doyoung dangles his phone in front of his face. when he watches the video, his face eventually contorts to one of amusement. “oh, that.”

your face is red with embarrassment. “yeah, that! like seriously? where is your loyalty? do you not care about my well being? you know how vicious these monsters can be!” you whine, gesturing at the said nine monsters behind you.

he nonchalantly shrugs, though you can see the corners of his lips threatening to curl into a smirk. “i do, but you were just too cute, seeing you all flustered. what about my own well being, huh? seeing you like that isn’t good for my heart,” he coos.

your heart leaps, but you mask it by smothering his face with a pillow. “you’re the worst,” you grumble.

“you act like you don’t like it, but i know you do~” he retaliates, albeit muffled from the pillow.

behind you two stands nine other boys, obviously unimpressed. watching you two engage in petty banter is always amusing, but not when it makes you flustered and encourages jaehyun to flirt with you like the cheesy, lovesick fool he is. “they’re so gross,” donghyuck gags.

johnny nods in agreement. “let’s get out of here before they start fucking on the counter.”

at johnny’s comment, you turn away from jaehyun so fast you swear you hear your neck crack. “do you have no filter?!” you shriek, exasperated.

with your guard down, jaehyun takes this as a chance to wrap his arms around your waist. a noise of surprise leaves your throat as he places his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean, (name). i liked the shy you a lot better~” he hums.

the other boys don’t even blink. “we’re going to leave now before things get bloody. good luck, (name),” taeyong says, saluting you.

jaehyun’s already tugging at the hem of your shirt and peppering your neck with kisses by the time the boys leave.

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #kpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x male reader #jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x male reader #renjuseyo : nct #renjuseyo : fics

[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 2 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader, bang chan x female reader ⇢ word count 7.5k ⇢ genre fluff, angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way), smut ⇢ warnings (18+) drug & alcohol use, explicit sexual content (fingering & thigh riding) ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n don’t kill me </3

⇠ part 1

three.

Student Mentor Program dinners aren’t the same without Maddie.

While she’s off in like, Panama, or something, studying treefrogs and whatnot for the semester, you get to spend almost two hours every other Wednesday night at the same restaurant, with the same people, eating the same food. You don’t even know half the kids who signed up this year, and with Maddie away and Seungmin deciding to just not show up anymore, you are beginning to think maybe you’re not cut out for the whole teamwork-planning-collaboration thing. Free Italian food is nice, but even the chicken parm is mediocre. How do you fuck up chicken parmigiana?

This is the last time you will ever bother making yourself look so formal, you tell yourself when you stop halfway up the stairs to take your heels off. Maybe it will be the last time you even bother going to the meeting, especially when fucking Dan likes to plop his ass down next to you and talk your ear off about his Mom’s dating life back at home.

When you enter your apartment, the silence is startling. Jisung is usually sprawled out on the sofa when you get home on Wednesday’s. Maybe he’s still hanging out on campus; he’s recently become a goblin for the new pho bar they built in the alumni cafeteria.

Throwing your shoes haphazardly toward the closet, you make a beeline to the kitchen, mouth watering for the pink lemonade Jisung has been so keen on making since the day you moved in. After drinking nothing but water for the past two hours, you have never been so grateful for his newfound addiction, grabbing a glass and filling it, chugging that, filling it again, and then taking steady sips. Speaking of Jisung, you jump when you hear a burst of laughter from his room. And he definitely isn’t alone.

Slowly making your way over, you hesitate before knocking on the door. “Jisung, I’m home.”

“YN!” Someone shouts. You’re not certain who.

“Come in! How was it?” This time, it’s definitely Jisung, and you suck in a deep breath before cautiously cracking open his door considering you have no idea who or what is with him.

“It was,” you stall, brows furrowing in confusion when you find him, Hyunjin, and Jeongin all huddled around his laptop, “terrible. What the hell are you guys doing?”

“Nothing,” Jisung snickers, lowering the hood of the laptop, “why was it terrible?” You pretend you don’t see Hyunjin looking terribly cute with his head tilted as he regards you.

“Food sucks. I miss Maddie and Seungmin. I don’t like people,” you grumble. Then, with a hand on your belly, “Did you get dinner?”

“My leftover wings are in the fridge. You can have them,” Jeongin offers with a smile. “Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite? I love you, thank you,” you gasp, excited at the prospect of actual good chicken. Before racing back to the kitchen, you make sure to blow him a kiss.

You don’t know why Jeongin hangs out with these nerds you call friends. As an incoming freshman, he first met Hyunjin at some soccer club recruitment event, and before you knew it, he was part of the group. You can’t understand why, considering they treat him like their slave (especially Seungmin); always asking him to do this, do that. But Jeongin is too much of an angel to argue. He’ll give a snarky reply, but then do whatever his friends ask him to. So, you try to shower him with genuine affection whenever he’s around since the others show it in peculiar ways.

You have just opened the styrofoam container when Jisung’s door opens and closes. And of course, none other than Hwang Hyunjin makes his way into the kitchen.

Hyunjin and his girlfriend broke up in August, a few days before classes started. Better yet, she broke up with him. And you have yet to know why. Since then, though, you have substantially grown closer. Against your better judgment, of course. You were hurt, yes, but summer gave you time to forget all that happened; at home, spending time with your family and friends from town, you didn’t have to worry about Hyunjin and your feelings. Changbin, maybe, but he’s studying abroad, too, and the whole friends-with-benefits thing was fun while it lasted. It’s all behind you now, and with November approaching at an alarmingly fast rate, part of you is convinced that what happened that night was just an impulsive show of hormones and weed. It’s better this way—you have your feelings better under control, and even if being around Hyunjin every day makes your heart hurt at times, you wouldn’t trade your friendship and his constant need to be close for the world.

“If you’re here to steal some wings, go away,” you grumble at him, glaring as he steps closer. He frowns. “Just one?”

“No!” You snap, smacking his hand when he reaches for one. “You try wasting two hours at one of those meetings and you would understand.”

“Maybe I will,” Hyunjin challenges, crossing his arms over his chest. Huffing loudly, you move further down the counter and finish a wing clean off the bone. “Don’t,” you deadpan, waving it at him, “I’d rather have smegma than do this anymore.” Hyunjin wrinkles his nose in disgust. “That’s – ew, YN. You’re gross.”

“Then leave me alone,” you counter, eying him scornfully, “go back to your group masturbation.”

Hyunjin lunges for the wings, but you are quick to grab them, stumbling past him and retreating back toward the refrigerator. “Stop!” You yelp when he comes after you again; this time, you duck under his arm and back against the sink. “You already had dinner!”

In one last effort, Hyunjin manages to trap you against the counter. “You’re so mean,” he whines, arms caging you in, “Jeongin wouldn’t share, either.” You desperately want to brush the ruffled strands of brown hair out of his eyes, but lucky for you, your hands are preoccupied hiding the container behind you. The fact that he even had to go and bleach his hair and dye it a light shade of brown is just another factor leading to your insanity.

“Well,” you scoff, freeing one hand to jab a finger into his chest, “it was his dinner. Maybe he didn’t want to share.” Hyunjin pouts at this, lower lip jutting out much to your dismay. His puppy eyes alone are enough to break your resolve. “Fine,” you huff, bringing the container from behind you, “just because you’re wasting my time and I want to take this dress off.”

“Why?” He asks, visibly brightening once you let him take a drumstick. “You look gorgeous,” he mumbles like it doesn’t leave you week in the knees, clean hand tugging at the skirt of the yellow sundress you wear. “Thanks,” you hum, trying to ignore his use of the hefty G word and the sincerity in his eyes, you focus on your food, “but it’s uncomfy and I’m ready for bed.”

“You’re not going to hang with us?”

“Well, if you guys were doing something fun and totally not suspicious, maybe. But my brain is fried, so no. I need sleep,” you say, licking residue hot honey sauce from your fingers, “tell Jeongin he can come snuggle.”

Hyunjin gasps, beginning to panic when you turn on your heels. “What?” He screeches, shoving the leftovers back into the fridge and following after you as you head toward your room. “Why Jeongin and not me?”

“Because Jeongin is my favorite,” you tease, pressing your back into the door because you refuse to let him be in there with you, “and naturally, next is Jisung. So you’re shit out of luck.”

Hyunjin deflates in front of you. Like, actually, full on like a balloon; shoulders sagging, chin jutting, soft eyes clouding with disappointment. “I’m kidding, Jinnie,” you giggle, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck, “you’re all special to me.” This seems to make him feel better, brown irises flickering golden and arms wrapping around your waist. “Promise?” He whispers into your hair, swaying your body with his to a silent song. Pressing your cheek to his chest, your heart seems to give a single, solid thump as you try to etch this moment into your mind forever. Maybe in another universe, you would have this dress on for something else, and the two of you are slow dancing not in the corridor of you and Jisung’s apartment, and the heavy weight on your chest was from a different overwhelming emotion.

Yeah. You definitely have your feelings under control.

“I promise.”

Jisung straight up pulls an AirPod out of your ear like a monster.

“I hate you so fucking much,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet so as to not disturb the fellow bus passengers. You go to take the earbud back but he only holds it up over his head like a child. “Jisung.”

“You owe Jeongin an apology,” he replies, gesturing to the younger boy beside him who looks up from his phone with eyes widened in shock.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jisung, you don’t—”

“Shush,” Jisung interrupts Jeongin’s rushed protest, “I don’t know what you and Hyunjin did last night, but he was real weird around Jeongin for the rest of the night.”

“Again, I don’t know what you are—”

“Do you like him still?”

“YN likes Hyunjin?”

You suck in a sharp breath, unsure of who to address first; a very flabbergasted Jeongin or a very annoyed Jisung. “Please,” you snap, snatching the AirPod from his grip now that he isn’t paying attention to it, “just announce it to the whole fucking bus, why don’t you.”

“I didn’t know you liked Hyunjin…” Jeongin mutters, clearly puzzled by the revelation. “That’s because it’s a secret,” you look to Jisung with a pointed glare, “but some people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

“Oh, come on YN,” Jisung scoffs, “I thought we were over this. I thought you were over this. When are you going to stop?” Nibbling on the inside of your cheek, you momentarily look away to gather your thoughts. If only it were that easy. A snap of your fingers and you miraculously would not be hopelessly in love with Hyunjin.

“I’m not,” you sigh, “I’m not going to get over him, at least anytime soon. It’s… it’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand it. Your head is too far up your ass and sometimes Minho’s ass to know what it feels like.”

Jisung frowns at this, crossing his arms over his chest because he knows you’re right. “Is this like,” Jeongin waves his hand between you, “something that’s been going on for a while?” Jisung barks out a laugh at this, and even you can’t help but crack a smile. “Yes,” Jisung chuckles, “YN has been all heart eyes for him since they met.”

“Have you told him?” Jeongin asks. Totally serious. Eyes sparkling hopefully.

“I – well, no. Not with words.”

“Hyunjin and YN had a little wink wonk night last year,” Jisung whispers like it’s some sort of secret you don’t know, jabbing Jeongin in the side with his elbow. “Yeah, and then he met what’s-her-face and forgot about it, apparently,” you grumble, slouching in your seat. “YN! How many times do I have to tell you that you left in the morning before he woke up? He was upset! You left him!”

“Then he should have talked to me about it!” You bark, shriveling in your seat when a sea of heads spin in your direction. “Instead, he went to cry to his boba bitch and get his dick sucked or something while I had to clean up Maddie’s vomit for two days.”

“YN,” Jisung deadpans, looking at you with an unamused expression. “I’m done talking about this,” you sigh, looking away once more. When you go to put your earbud back in, it’s Jeongin who stops you this time.

“YN, you two are really close. This whole time I thought it was Hyunjin who liked you. You seriously need to talk to him. Whatever happened last year was awhile ago and I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding. We’re around you guys every day, and we can all see that there’s definitely something going on between you.”

“But what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if it just fucks everything up all over again? I can’t live with that kind of rejection,” you whimper, wincing when your voice cracks. Jisung takes it as his cue to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you close. Reaching for your hand, Jeongin squeezes your knuckles. “You won’t know unless you try, right?”

“I guess,” you mumble, cheek pressed to Jisung’s shoulder, “why can’t he just make the move?”

“Well, I don’t know, YN. Maybe because you were off fucking Changbin every day?” Jisung teases, comforting arm turning into a chokehold when you go to move away. “We were not fucking every day.”

“It sure felt like it,” he snickers, finally releasing his grip when you punch him in the gut, “Binnie got a big dick or something? Were you crazy for Changbin’s chode?” You scoff, mirroring Jeongin’s own mortified expression. “I – he does not – never mind, I’m not talking about Changbin’s dick,” laughing to hide your embarrassment, you send a thanks to the heavens when the bus slows down at the first campus stop, “this conversation ends now.”

Following them out to the sidewalk, it isn’t until silence settles over you do you realize just how lucky you are to have such supportive friends, even if Jisung is a little shit about it. “Hey,” you pipe up just before you have to head in a separate direction, “thanks for listening. I appreciate you guys.”

“Does that mean you’re going to talk to him?” Jisung gasps, excited. Adjusting the straps of your bag on your shoulders and rocking on your heels, you can only offer them a shrug. “If it comes up, maybe. But it probably won’t, so I’ll just have to deal with you guys being shitty wing-men for now.”

“Hey!” They both shout in protest, but you’ve already spun around, laughing to yourself.

Jeongin’s right; things are different than how they were in May, but you are not ready to dig your own grave again. Besides, now that you’re living with Jisung, you get to spend way more time with not only Hyunjin, but all your friends. And even if you fall asleep making up cute scenarios with Hyunjin every night, you aren’t about to make things awkward all over again. So if you must suffer in the meantime, suffer you will.

four.

“What’s the point of smoking at a party if it’s just going to turn you into a slug?” Maddie whispers next to you, vaguely gesturing to Lia passed out on the recliner. Even you aren’t sure how she does it. No matter how high you may be, something about a good party only seems to heighten the experience; maybe it’s the music that now rattles your brain, maybe it’s your reputation, or maybe it’s just the combination of weed, alcohol, and friends.

“Lia can’t handle what she smokes,” you laugh, taking a sip of beer. Christ, it’s fucking nasty, but you’re not about to start with the heavy liqueur when you are only two hours in. You still have a long night ahead of you. “Weed just has a different effect on her.”

Maddie hums in agreement, whipping her head to look behind you at the sea of people when “A Thousand Years” starts playing and everyone cheers. “Jesus, what did you do without me?”

You laugh, turning to watch the crowd as well. Your university may not be big on Greek life, but the upperclassmen who rent houses as a group really know how to throw a good party. After time, though, they start to lose their appeal. They definitely can be fun, but it all depends on who you are friends with, who else is there, and what you make of it on your own. Personally, you’re not a ‘let’s dance!’ kind of gal (it’s kind of hard to dance to crazy rap songs from Meek Mill and Kendrick Lamar, anyway), preferring to chill, drinking and maybe smoking with your own friends, and that’s about it.

“I told you, I became a master at beer pong,” you grin, waggling your eyebrows at her, “we should play later.”

“Is that why everyone was saying hi to you when we came in?” Maddie gasps, connecting the dots. “Damn, girl. Ms. Popular now, aren’t you?”

“No!” You try to object, but then someone is leaning over to hug you from behind. And of course it has to be Jeon Jeongguk, of all people. So much for proving that you aren’t as ‘popular’ as she’s made you out to be.

“YN! What’s up?” The older boy shouts way too loud in your ear, chin resting on your shoulder. He winks at Maddie and she has to look away just to hide the way her cheeks bloom pink. “I’m good!” You yell back, leaning your head affectionately against his. “Are there any good drinks tonight?”

“Yes! Do you want me to get you one?” He offers, standing up but leaving a hand dangerously close to your neck. “No, thank you” you smile, tilting your head back to look at him, “I’ll check it out in a bit. Go find your friends, you look lost.” Realizing he is, in fact, lost, Jeongguk only flicks your nose before disappearing in the sea of increasingly loud students.

“Was that—”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t he—”

“Yes.”

“Christ, who are you? What did you do to YN?” Maddie fake-cries, burying her head in her palms. “Chin up, princess, your tiara is falling,” you attempt to joke but only earn an unamused glare in return. “Alright, I think it’s time for one of those drinks Mr. Jeon was talking about,” Maddie decides, standing up and tugging the hem of her skirt down. “Unless you still want to ‘vibe?’” She mimics your previous words with air-quotes.

Laughing, you chug what’s left in your cup and stand with her. “No,” you beam, “I need to find Felix and make sure he’s not dead, anyway.”

Following Maddie around the crowd ‘dancing’ in between where you were and the kitchen, you are delighted to find not only Ryujin and Chaeryeong standing around the island, but the rest of your friends, too. “You may want to check in on your roommate,” you say to Ryujin, wrapping your arms around her and resting your chin in the crook of her neck, “she’s knocked the fuck out.”

“Aw, man,” she sighs, definitely not the most sober one around either, “I told her not to smoke if she was going to drink.”

“YN, I just think it’s funny how Maddie comes and gives me a hug, yet I don’t think you’ve even said hello,” Seungmin barks at you from his stance against the sink, eyes bloodshot and frown deep. “Dude,” you laugh, making your way over to him and opening your arms wide to give him a dramatic bear hug, “please forgive me, my friend.” Swaying side to side just for the extra measure, you then pull back to cup his face in your hands. “How are you?”

“Good,” Seungmin beams, “take a sip out of Hyunjin’s cup. It’s so good.”

You step back to look at the older boy who’s too busy playing rock-paper-scissors with Felix and Jisung. “Why?”

“Trust me.”

Shrugging, you step around a shrieking Felix to snatch Hyunjin’s cup right from his hand. “Hey—”

He stops once he realizes it’s you. “Seungmin told me to,” you confess, handing it back once you’ve taken a sip. Shit, that is good. “What is that?”

“Want me to make you one?” He offers, ignoring the initial question. You nod, unable to give him a verbal answer because Felix is already yanking your hand to get your attention. “Are you high?” He asks, spinning you in a circle until you end up in the corner of the kitchen. “Yeah, a little,” you hum, watching curiously as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a chocolate bar. Leaning closer to hide it, he whispers, “Don’t have it tonight, but this is the best edible I’ve ever had. I was actually seeing different dimensions earlier.”

Laughing, you take what’s left and turn it over to inspect. Looks like chocolate. Smells like chocolate. “Alright,” grinning excitedly, you shove it into your wristlet, “thank you.” With a wide grin, he then spins on his heel to join Jeongin shouting at Jisung about something you don’t quite catch.

Smiling to Maddie across the room as Minho chats her up, you look beside you and realize with much joy you are right next to the chip bowls. Bingo. Fueled by munchies, you hop up onto the counter and dig your hand into the potato chips, listening in on Chaeryeong and Seungmin discuss what law schools they are looking into. Kudos to them for having their shit together.

“One beverage for m’lady,” Hyunjin appears next to you, proudly holding a red cup out to you. Laughing, you happily take it and take a careful sip. Definitely not as strong as his, but he can probably tell you already have a buzz. “Thank you,” you smile, finally eyeing him to see what attire he chose for the night. As discreetly and not-sexually-attracted as you can, of course.

Black button-up with a cute peach pattern tucked into black jeans and black Vans, he looks nothing short of incredible. It’s so easy for him, though; he could wear a trash bag and still look good and that really makes you angry. With soft brown hair messily parted to the side, he actually has you salivating. He’s crazy.

You definitely are not as slick with your checking-out as you thought you were, and he easily catches on. He’s tipsy, but not that tipsy. Hands coming to grip your thighs, Hyunjin pries them open just enough so he can slot in between, keeping his hands where they are. Suddenly you wish you didn’t wear jeans tonight.

“So,” he hums like he hasn’t just sent your blood pressure skyrocketing, “what did you do today?”

“I – well,” you stammer, brain actually rendered to mush as he rubs up and down your thighs, sometimes drawing way to close to the inside, sometimes brushing up to the curve of your hip. Drunk Hyunjin is always touchy, drunk Hyunjin is always touchy, you try to convince yourself. “Uh, I went shopping with Maddie and then we, um, we got milkshakes.”

“Yeah?” Hyunjin hums, completely invested in your short recall. He’s dangerous. Like, actually a danger to your life; no man should ever be equally cute as he is hot as he is sweet. Jail! “What flavor did you get?”

“Cookies and cream,” you whisper, beginning to panic now that he most certainly is leaning in closer and your brain is screaming to wrap your arms around him, “Maddie got strawberry and I got Jisung a, uh—”

“Is YN here?” Someone shouts in the middle of your sentence. Hyunjin frowns, mere inches from your face and moves his arm to slide possessively around your waist. “She’s right here,” he answers for you, turning and finding with much surprise Bang Chan twisting back around. Dear Lord. You grab your drink and guzzle half of it just to get some feeling back.

“You.” Chan beans, full dimples. He points directly at you.

“Me?”

“You.” “That would be me.”

Chan laughs heartily at this, stepping closer and Hyunjin’s fingers twitch against your side. “I need you,” Chan admits. You practically choke. “Yugyeom and Woojin think they’re the best beer pong players and I laughed in their face, so now I’ve been challenged to play vodka pong and I know with you, we can win.”

Geez, how dramatic. You wrinkle your nose at the whole vodka part, but you promised Maddie a game, so what better game to play than with the one and only Bang Chan.

“Sure,” you agree much to Hyunjin’s disappointment, “since you made it sound like such an honor. I’d be happy to.”

Grinning ear to ear, Chan waits for you to hop off the counter. “You gonna come?” You ask Hyunjin, finding his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Yeah,” he hums, seemingly annoyed and it makes you wince, “just need to get another drink and I’ll try to get everyone to come with.”

“Okay,” you smile, hoping to get one in return. And you do—except it lacks every aspect of a whole-hearted Hyunjin smile and an annoying thought bubble pops up to say that he’s jealous. Christ, if that’s the case… You can’t help but smile at the thought before releasing his hand and approaching Chan.

“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met,” he chuckles softly, hand on your back as he leads you toward the back door. “I don’t think so either,” you laugh, grateful that the mix of marijuana and alcohol in your body has left the anxiety that comes with talking to cute boys on the low, “only through Jisung and Changbin. And beer pong, I guess.”

“Definitely,” Chan laughs, nodding to Yugyeom and Woojin at the far end of the yard, “I think they were shocked when I said I was going to get you.”

“Oh, doubtful, are they?” Clinging closer to Chan, your brows raise as you near the senior and unfairly tall junior. “All bark and no bite.”

“What was that, YLN?” Yugyeom yaps, rounding up on you as if you would ever actually feel intimidated by him. “You wouldn’t switch up on your Olympics partner like that, would you?”

“Actually,” clicking your tongue, you poke him in the middle of his chest, “my Olympics partner is the whole reason we lost in the final four. So yes, I am switching up on you, unless you beat us.” Behind you, Woojin whistles, offering Chan an impressed nod. “And for you, I’ll pay double for my next order.”

“Deal,” Woojin beams, giving your hand a solid shake when you make your way over, “you win, next order is my treat.”

“Damn,” Chan frowns playfully when you return to his side, this time at your end of the table, “I guess nothing is in it for me besides my ego.” Laying your hand on his arm and giving it a comforting pat, you can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry,” you reassure, “we’ll figure something out when the time comes.” What you mean by that, you’re not sure.

Maddie goes absolutely berserk when you and Chan both make your shots and get balls back. Felix, on the other hand, seems torn. While Woojin is his friend and weed plug, he realizes that you winning means not having to spend money for a good while. Which also means a disgruntled Woojin. When you miss your shot, you turn back to your friends who have crowded around the table, returning a thumbs-up to Jisung and Seungmin before frantically searching for Hyunjin.

You realize you are way more intoxicated than you thought when a troublesome idea pops in your head. It’s a close game, after all; two cups on your side and two on theirs. And right now, you don’t care about winning when the only thing you’re after is but a few feet away. When he manages a soft smile, just a shy quirk of his lips that has your heart doing somersaults, you really, truly think you may just confess. It’s now or never. The alcohol in your veins tells your heart and your head that you will just march right on over and kiss him, kiss him hard and kiss him long enough for him to know how you feel, and fuck, if he doesn’t understand you’ll tell him. Tell him how long you have wanted to do that and how badly you wish to do it again. How much he means to you and how you truly—

“Yes! Woojin, yes!” Yugyeom shrieks, loud enough to break you from your trance. Vodka pong. Winning. Bang Chan. He must have missed, as well as Yugyeom. But now Woojin made a cup and its one to two.

“Shit,” Chan sighs next to you, hand slipping away from your hip. It’s found its way there awhile now, you realize. “You got this,” you tell him, wincing as he downs the shot, “I’ll close my eyes. No pressure.” Covering your eyes with your hand for extra measure, it feels like an eternity goes by before something happens. And then, “Yes! Shit, YN, we got this!” Ah, shit. Now the pressure is on you. Of course, Mr. Perfect made the shot.

“Aw, man,” you huff, giving him a pained smile and rolling the cheap pong ball between your fingers. Your mind is a little fuzzy to focus on the singular cup and that alone, and your muscle coordination is certainly not at its best shape. But you think you have a good shot. You think. Sucking in a deep breath, you let the ball fly and bite your lip hard as it arches over the table, nearing the cup, hits the rim, bounces back up vertically, and… plops back into the cup.

“YN, you crazy son of a bitch!” Chan hollers, and you are momentarily blinded by joy as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you in a tight hug, spinning in a circle and ever so gently lifting you from the ground. “You did it!”

“I – bruh,” steadying yourself against him once he sets you back down, you glance between his bright smile and a sulking Woojin as he drinks from the last cup, “we won!” Laughing, you squeeze him into a second hug because fuck yeah, winning feels nice.

“Man, good game,” Woojin sighs, making his way over to you, “I think you two are the crowned champions.”

“You had us sweating though,” Chan confesses, wiping said sweaty hands on his thighs, “that was really fun.”

“Stressful, but fun,” you agree, offering Woojin a sympathetic smile. “You don’t have to give me free weed, by the way. It was just fun setting the stakes high.”

“No! A deal is a deal,” he beams, “just text me whenever, yeah?”

“Alright,” you laugh, “whatever you say.” Finding Felix in the crowd, you grin proudly at him. Free weed for all! “You’re going to use this against me forever, aren’t you?” Yugyeom pouts, appearing in front of you. “Well,” you pause, pursing your lips at him, “as long as you don’t give me a reason to, no, I won’t. You were my pong partner at some point, right?”

“Hell yeah!” Satisfied with this, Yugyeom pats your head before wandering off, probably to go drink all his worries away.

“Well,” beside you, Chan reappears with two bottles of water, “that was pretty amazing.”

“Truly,” with an appreciative smile, you take one and down half of it, “did you hear what Woojin said? ‘Crowned champions!’ We’re a great team. Truly unstoppable.”

Chuckling, he nods in agreement, leaning against the table next to you. “You’re stuck with me now, though. Anytime I’m playing, you’re playing too. That’s just how it is now.” Laughing, you nod and hum in agreement, glancing at him briefly. “You know your paparazzi aren’t going to be happy about that.”

“My what?” Chan sputters and you quickly take another sip of water to hide your smirk.

“You know,” gesturing vaguely to the boys and girls gathered in the yard you’ve noticed send envious glares your way, “your fans. I’m sure someone out there is a gold star beer pong player waiting to play with you.” Chan scoffs, pressing closer and you would be lying if you said your heart rate didn’t pick up. “But I don’t want to play with anyone else.”

“Woah,” scrambling to get your cool, you turn to him and are shocked to find just how closer he has gotten, “how many girls have you used that line on?”

“None,” Chan admits, chuckling and you desperately want to press your finger in his dimple, “but I figured since we still have to figure out my prize for winning, I would try my luck.”

“Oh,” you hum, understanding. You turn to face him fully, heat working its way up and down your body as he reciprocates the movement, stepping closer and anchoring his hand to your hip. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“A few things,” Chan whispers, other hand coming to hold your jaw, tilting your head to meet his eyes. This is when you come to your senses.

Not even ten minutes ago were you convinced you were going to confess to Hyunjin, and here you are now, with not Hyunjin. You cannot help but pull back, frantically searching for the taller boy. Beside Yugyeom, Hyunjin is definitely one of the easier people to find. Could just be your Hyunjin tunnel vision, though. But as you look all around, to the left and to the right, behind Chan and behind yourself, you cannot find him. He’s not here to remind you where your heart truly belongs.

But yet again—why would he? Why should he stick around and watch as you are mere centimeters and seconds away from kissing someone else? Perhaps a part of you thought he would fight for you. Perhaps you were wrong for ever thinking that was a possibility.

And here you are, leaving someone waiting who has succeeded in making you forget about Hyunjin for the time being. Leaving someone waiting who is hot, and not in the sex appeal, six-pack all muscles type of hot. (Well, maybe a little of that, because you have been to enough swim meets to know what Bang Chan looks like underneath all his clothes.) But hot not just physically—he’s the whole package. Sweet, humble, and nothing like most of the guys who look the way he does.

“YN?” Chan asks, brows furrowed and concern clear in his voice at your prolonged hesitance. “Sorry,” shaking your head and making a final decision, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in closer, “I was just thinking of where else we could go.”

Chan surprises you with the force he uses to kiss you, tongue skillfully wrapping around yours and hands hurrying to press you closer. Whimpering against his mouth, you slowly but surely lose yourself in the feeling, clawing at the fabric of his shirt and aching to have him closer. It isn’t until he has you bumping against the edge of the table you were just playing pong at do you realize where you are, certainly drawing attention in the middle of the yard with Chan’s hips rolling into yours and your hands tugging at his hair.

“Chan,” you shakily pull away, taking a necessary breath and cupping his face in your palms. This close, you realize just how beautiful he is. This close, you pray this could be the start of something new. “Somewhere else?”

Chan swallows heavily, Adam’s apple bobbing as he brushes blonde hair away from his forehead. “Yes,” soft smile greatly juxtaposing to the lust that leaves his eyes heavy-lidded, he takes your hand in his and leads you back inside, “not out here.”

Wordlessly following after him, you keep close, holding onto his hand for dear life as the desire pooling in your abdomen grows the farther he takes you into the house and finally up the stairs. “Sorry,” he mutters, maneuvering around the few people waiting to get into the bathroom, “seniors typically get the best rooms.�� Opening one of the last doors further down the left corridor, Chan finally releases your hand once you have entered a very tiny, very cramped bedroom.

“I mean,” you pause, scanning the room with just a full-sized bed, black desk littered with music equipment, and dresser just barely squeezed next to a small closet. “At least you have your own room.” Humming in agreement, Chan regards his room too, wincing at his unmade bed and wires tangled in a heaping mess over his desk and onto the floor. “I wasn’t expecting to have someone over, everything’s a mess, I’m—”

“Hey,” you reach for his arm, stopping him from fixing the comforter that hangs halfway off the bed, “stop worrying. This is fine, you’re fine.” Smiling softly, Chan allows you to pull him back, stopping before you and caging you between himself and the door. “Are you sure?” He whispers, tilting your head up with a finger under your chin. “Yes,” unable to fight your smile at just how sweet he is, you finally lean up and press a quick kiss to his reddened lips. “Now please, do something.”

Chan does not hesitate, hurriedly returning to your previous business; this time, not holding back. His hands skirt down your body, one curling to cup your neck as the other slides down your spine before giving your ass a good squeeze. “Shit,” you hiss, head thudding against his door when he journeys down your neck, plump lips pressing random kisses against the soft skin before sucking a dark mark above your collarbone. When his fingers fumble against the buttons of your jeans, you offer him a hand, hurriedly popping the four open and sighing happily when he gently touches your clothed core.

“Are you sure?” Chan checks one last time, forehead pressing into yours and you nearly scream. Half because what a gentleman he is but half because every nerve is begging to be sated. “Yes,” your voice comes out more as a croak, quickly kicking your shoes off by the soles and tugging your jeans down to your knees to give him extra room.

Chan wastes no time, fingers quickly disappearing beneath the waistband of your underwear and drawing a teasing line up your slit. “Chan,” you groan, squeezing his arms at the subtle touch, “please.” Chuckling at your expense, he softly circles your clit with his thumb, reveling in the way you tremble and whimper before him.

“I’ve never been so turned on playing beer pong,” Chan admits, middle finger moving to prod against your entrance, “I kept missing my shots ‘cause all I could focus on was you.”

“Fuck,” you sigh blissfully, rolling to meet the gentle sway of his finger as it reaches deep within you, “you’re going to make be blush.” Chuckling, Chan quickly adds a second finger and makes sure to grind his palm against your clit until you are a whimpering mess. “I’m so glad we won. This would not be as enjoyable if we were doing this to make up for losing.”

“For sure,” nodding frantically, a high-pitched whine escapes your lips when he moves his fingers in a come-hither motion, brushing deliciously at that sacred bundle of nerves, “this is better than winning.” Sensing your impending orgasm with the way your walls begin to flutter around him, Chan suddenly pulls his fingers from your heat and takes the overwhelming pleasure with him.

“What are you doing?” You gasp, breathless and confused as he plops down on his bed, leaning against the wall and quickly tugging you to join him. “Want you to come on my thigh,” he grins, totally not fitting for your given circumstances, but the thought is tantalizing enough to convince you. Fully stepping from your jeans and shakily sitting over one thigh, you glance back up to him and feel a fresh wave of arousal simply from how godly he looks; cheeks flushed and eyes dark. Pressing down, it isn’t until his hands find your hips and guide a subtle back-and-forth movement do you find just how amazing it feels.

“Oh, god,” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as you rock desperately over his thigh, relishing in the way the fabric of his jeans rubs against your clothed core and directly to your clit. In the midst of such a frenzy, you make out the shape of his cock tented painfully within his pants and release your grip on his shoulder to pop open the button and slide the zipper down. “Shit, YN,” Chan sighs shakily, finally receiving the same treatment as your hand tugs the waistband of his boxers down just enough to wrap your hand around him.

“God, sorry, I’m gonna come,” biting onto your lip, you try to keep the momentum stroking his cock but with one final rut against his thigh, the pressure against your clit causes the knot within you to snap. High on the intensity of your climax, it takes a few seconds for you to come back to reality, mind swimming and limbs shaking with the aftershocks of such ecstasy.

Looking up to meet his eyes, you realize your hand has gone limp by his thigh and offer a shy smile. “Sorry,” wincing, you lean forward and press a grateful kiss to his lips, “that was like, insanely amazing.”

“I’m glad,” Chan purrs, cradling your jaw and finding himself content with just kissing you for now. Until your hand finds his still very much hard cock and brushes against the tip.

“Wait,” he stops you no matter how hard it hurts him to do so, breathing shakily as he reaches for your wrist. “I hope this isn’t going to make things complicated for you.”

“What?” You laugh in disbelief, pulling back with brows raised in confusion. “What are you talking about?” Chan frowns, helping you settle comfortably on his lap like his dick isn’t standing tall and proud between you. “You were looking for someone earlier,” he says, eyes soft with sympathy, “I hope you being here with me doesn’t mess things up.”

You scoff, truly amazed at his words. Here we go again. “I – no, it doesn’t. Well, things are already complicated. Actually,” the haze of alcohol and post-orgasm bliss suddenly clearing from your mind, you move to stand up, “never mind. This was a mistake. I should go.”

“Wait,” Chan stops you, hand softly reaching yours and tugging you back. Just the sadness in his expression alone is enough to soften your resolve. “I know we’re not best friends or anything, but you just came on my thigh. You can tell me what’s wrong. I think I deserve to know.” Well… he has a point. Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you contemplate turning away and leaving. But even if it’s not his business, he has given you something special tonight. Maybe telling someone like him will help.

“You’re right,” you sigh, quietly returning to sit beside him, “I was looking for someone. I was hoping he would be there to remind me who I’m really after, but he wasn’t. And then I realized I was wasting time. And now I’m here with you.”

Chan’s hand finds yours, thumb swiping softly against your skin. “Why didn’t you go find them?”

“Well – I… it’s not like we’re dating. It’s just a stupid crush, and I was hoping maybe he somehow feels the same, and when he saw me with you, he would get jealous… I’m sorry, this makes it look like I used you,” frantic, you struggle to find the right words, “I promise I’m not. I like you, you made me forget everything and I—”

“Hey, stop,” Chan interrupts, cupping your face so you look him in the eyes, “I didn’t think that at all. I really like you and thought maybe something could happen between us, and even after I realized you were looking for someone else, I was selfish and wanted you for myself.”

“No! Stop, please,” laughing to hide your disbelief, you squeeze his hand to assure him. “I was hopeful because you made me forget about him. But I don’t think I ever will fully forget.”

“You need to tell him, then,” Chan says, “or else you’ll never be able to move on.”

“It’s not that easy. Confessing just how much you like someone is a big deal,” you point out.

“No, it’s not,” he argues, brows furrowed, “you just told me you like me. Just do that again but to the one you really feel that way for.” Sulking, you look away, focusing on his desk’s clutter. “I guess you’re right,” sighing, you rest your head against his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut, “but for right now, I’m with you. And you still didn’t get a prize for winning.”

Bellowing out a laugh, Chan snuggly wraps his arms around you. “Well, if I can help take your mind off things without ruining any relationships, I’d be happy to do so.” Smiling against your hair, his palm lays flat against your bare thigh and gives it a firm squeeze, bringing your attention to his slowly softening dick.

“That sounds like a great plan,” you agree, littering kisses over his neck before resituating yourself over his lap, “I’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.”

⇢ part 3

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[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter one: double deuces

chapter one of book three, of course ;)

"tell me a story (will ya, will ya) a real good story (I won't leave till ya) spill your guts old man; leave out any secrets, hiding in the... any skeletons, and all your other sins any skeletons, in the closet! any skeletons, any misfortunes any skeletons, hiding in the closet! any skeletons, any skeletons in the closet!"

“Happy birthday, my dear friend.”

Aurora had taken Sam out to that Vietnamese restaurant for lunch on her birthday. Twenty two years old and she could feel the very essence of age over her head. In New York for two years and it all felt like a blur and the clear real thing all at the same time. In a year's time, she would be on the brink of her mid twenties: it all felt so ephemeral and so quick at the same time. It felt so odd to think that not even four years ago she was still in high school and she had gone into a strange brand new place in the meantime.

Four years felt like a lifetime ago, especially since she looked on at her black hair and she swore it was growing lighter over her temples. It could have just been the reflection of the glass in the mirror for all she knew, but when she went to brush her hair, she swore there were some light tendrils near the crown. As long as it didn't turn into a striking pearly white silver color, she knew she would be fine.

Aurora raised her white china tea cup for a toast to her. The soft aroma of the green tea comforted her, and she followed suit with her own cup.

Ever since she and Emile had gotten together, and ever since she had gotten that dress for Kirk's wedding the next weekend, Aurora had been dressing up more nicely: at the moment, she had a rich deep purple velvet sweater wrapped around her body and a little red rose tucked behind her ear. Despite the bitter New York cold, she started wearing more floral print tights to go with her skirts; Sam had to take a second look at her face to make out the sight of the black eye liner about the smooth edges of her eyes.

Sam herself meanwhile found herself drawn more to black—Aurora said it was because of her hanging out with Testament the past couple of weekends as well as Joey on certain days after school.

“I think it could also be because I'm in the arts,” she told her the day before. “Marla wears a bunch of black and Belinda has been wearing a lot of it, too.”

“Hangin' around the arts and hangin' out with a bunch of heavy metal dudes,” Aurora chuckled.

The art scene seemed so far away from her given she was a student and she even began to struggle with classes in recent days. Indeed, the thought of forfeiting college itself to live down in the real bohemian side of New York City was more tempting than ever to her. But she had nestled in the Bronx, three floors over Frank and down the block from Charlie and Marla. It was either pick up and go live alone in another part of town or stay there and continue to do what felt like spinning her wheels day in, day out. Sam tried to not let her thoughts cast a shadow on her own birthday, but she couldn't help but look at her own reflection in her tea cup and frown.

“Maybe it's all the doing stuff after school that's getting to you,” Aurora told her. “We haven't really seen Marla in the past few weeks.”

“No, we haven't,” Sam confessed as she gazed out the window at the snow drifts along the sidewalk.

“Well, if it's any comfort, I've been getting antsy myself,” Aurora said. “Emile wants me to move in with him but it's gonna be hard to do it especially if it's just him who's helping me with the move.”

“And you're going from Long Island up to the Bronx, too,” Sam added, “it was bad enough for me to get my bed up the stairs in that building.”

“It was tricky for me, too,” Aurora continued. “And you and I also moved across country, too.”

“And how—from around the same area, no less. Well, San Diego is way further south in comparison to Lake Elsinore, but it's near the same range, though.”

“It's all within range of L.A., that's for sure. L.A. and Riverside.”

“Hey, if Greg, Eric, and Louie can talk nonsense while they're in the studio, we can, too,” Sam pointed.

“Makes sense—Southern California exiles, the both of us.” Aurora raised her cup again to her and they clinked them together before they took a sip in unison.

“When's your birthday, by the way?” Sam asked her as she held her cup close to her mouth. “I can't remember if you told me or not.”

“May twenty ninth.”

“Oh, I see. I kept thinking it was in October for some reason.”

Aurora chuckled at that. “Well, I haven't really made it much of a point because my parents always treated birthdays different in comparison to that of American culture. I always wanted an American style birthday party growing up in San Diego but that's probably the one thing they brought over from the Korean peninsula is the way birthdays are treated.”

“And how's that?”

“When we reach a certain age, they have different celebrations for them. Like your first birthday is 'dol' or three hundred sixty five days since you were born, and that came from the fact Korea didn't have as good of protection on their newborns as we do here: so when you made it to your first birthday, it was significant. The family says a prayer for the kid and then they eat rice, seaweed soup, and rice cakes—my mom has a photo of me from my 'dol', I'll have to show it to you if and when we go out to San Diego together. They have cake and candles just like Americans, but the cake is far different—it's a lot more savory than it is sweet. And on New Year's, they eat a soup so they can finish up the age they are for the certain year. So you're actually considerably older on the peninsula than you are here. If you're ten years old, in Korea, you're considered eleven or twelve.”

“Wow.”

“And when you reach fifteen years of age, and you're female, you're considered an adult. That said, I'm glad I'm a born American because I can't imagine coming to New York City as a fifteen year old.”

“I can,” Sam said.

“You can?”

“As a boy.” She thought about Alex right then.

“Now, boys have to wait 'til they're twenty before they're considered adults.”

“So Alex would still be considered a boy right now?” she asked her. “Being eighteen?”

“Yes!” Aurora then burst out laughing and clapped her hands at that. “Oh, god, I just pictured him in the traditional horse hair hat that boys have to wear on their twentieth birthday, and I also just pictured him picking up a giant rock and lifting it over his head, too.”

“How giant are we talking, exactly?”

“One that dwarfs his entire body.” Aurora raised an eyebrow at that.

“I dunno, Aurora,” Sam confessed with a shake of her head, “—he's pretty thin but he's also got that little bit of baby fat left on him. He looks pretty soft.”

“Bet you he's way stronger than he looks.”

“Joey is,” Sam continued as she brought her cup back up to her lips.

“Joey is!”

“Mr. Hockey Player—yeah, that boy's tougher than nails.”

“Well—we are going to be in the Bay Area next weekend,” Aurora pointed out. “A whole weekend of doing stuff while Kirk and—Rebecca, I think is his fiancée's name?—while they're getting married. We all can just hang out and be a bunch of genuine friends together for a couple of days.”

Sam squinted her eyes at that.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked her in a low voice.

“You'll see. And maybe Exodus and Death Angel will want in on the fun, too. Fun with the 'little four'.” She flashed Sam a wink as she sipped from her tea once again. Right then, the sole waitress in the restaurant showed up at their table with their bowls of pho: chicken for Sam, vegetarian for Aurora. One more toast and they both dipped into their bowls of fresh hot soup.

At least that night she was to have cupcakes courtesy of Marla, forty dollars courtesy of Belinda, and a jovial phone call from her parents that night. Nothing more, nothing less, but at the same time, she wished for more and she knew that her flight back out to California that next Friday was the start of something for her. Something big and grand, like that next weekend in the Bay Area. It would take place on a day that wasn't her birthday, but it would be something.

Since it was Wednesday, after lunch, she headed back to school for the rest of the day and then back to her place in the Bronx. She stepped in through the front door: the first thing she noticed was the vase of yellow tulips on the table. They had lasted so long, and for so long in the heart of the first winter following Cliff's passing, but she noticed the wilt as it began to settle in on the yellow petals.

She would keep them there on the table until the pure yellow color vanished and they lost their smell, much like with the black hat Cliff had given her.

Sam took her seat on the couch with her drawing pad rested upon her lap. She was an artist in New York City, and yet she lived so far from the actual art scene. The boots still on her feet and yet she had no means as to how to look for it outside of her school work. Marla and Belinda had their way, for sure, but there had to be something more. There had to be, especially since she began to put her head down and put more work into her art for her classes. The struggle still came down on her, even as she gave her fish tails more scales and her humans more of a shading around their heads. It all seemed to slip away from the in between her fingers.

Everyone seemed to be doing better: her classmates received more praise, even Belinda who, at one point, admitted that graphites were a challenge for her as well. And yet, when Sam drew a self portrait surrounded by roses and water lilies, one of the comments Miss Estes left for her on the back side of the heavy grained paper was “lots of effort.”

She was eager for the flight out to the Bay Area by the time that early Friday morning rolled around, and she and Zelda were seated next to each other. She had packed that copy of Siddhartha with her but she had no idea as to when she would get to crack it open over the weekend.

Zelda had put on a plain white T shirt and fitted black jeans, and she had combed her short bob of black hair back for the flight. Apparently all she had packed with her were white shirts and black jeans.

“Don't you wanna look nice like at Cliff's memorial?” Sam asked her with a chuckle.

“I've got some suspenders and a tie to go with them,” Zelda replied. “It's a wedding for a friend of ours, and he said that we can wear whatever we like. So I told him that I'm gonna be full punk chick there. I'm guessing you'll be the artist?”

“Of course,” Sam replied, “the full black, baby.”

Zelda raised a hand to her for a high five and the light for the seat belts flickered on right then.

“I'll tell you this, Zelda,” Sam began.

“What's that?”

She peered over her shoulder to make sure Marla and Charlie paid no attention to them, given they were right across the aisle from them. Sam then gestured for Zelda to move in closer to her: beyond her and outside the window, she noticed the first few flurries of snow against the pane. She hoped they would take off soon.

“I'm getting kind of bored of New York,” she whispered to her.

“Really?” Zelda raised her eyebrows at her.

“Yeah. It's just—falling into the whole 'same old, same old' thing. I'm an artist, I should be able to go places with it all.”

“Absolutely, absolutely.”

“And I just—” Sam shook her head. “It's a great big city but I feel like there's nothing for me there anymore. Two years there and I'm not feeling it anymore. I'm glad we're going back out to the Bay Area for just this one weekend because I feel myself slowly going insane.”

“And why are you telling me this in a whisper?” Zelda asked her in a soft voice.

“Because—I don't know how to break it to Marla yet, or Belinda for that matter. Aurora kind of knows, but not in that sense, though. I made note of it to her but she didn't really suggest anything to me.”

“You can come to Providence,” Zelda suggested, “there's tons to do in Providence. Narragansett and Natick, too.”

“I guess what I'm trying to say is I feel trapped. Two years ago, I came here to the Northeast for a change of pace and it feels like it's trapped me sideways. There's no way out unless I really genuinely leave. The downside of course is—leaving you ladies behind and leaving Anthrax behind.”

“Yeah, and—we kinda like you, Sam. I do, especially. And I know Aurora does, too. And Marla.”

“Aurora is one of my best friends. Her and Frankie. They're my best friends. I don't know how I would handle leaving them both behind for a change of pace. I feel me and Marla drifting, if I'm honest. Can't really blame her, though—school's getting hard on her.”

“Well—whatever you do, Sam,” Zelda started again, “I'll support you on it. If nothing, you'll get the full support from me.”

“Thank you, Zelda. That—that means a lot to me.” Sam showed her a friendly smile.

Zelda shrugged. “I'm from Rhode Island,” she replied. “Moreover, I'm a punk rocker from Rhode Island. We look out for each other more so than these metal boys.”

They touched down in the Bay Area at five in the morning, and right as the sun began to rise right behind them. The thick fog surrounded the airport and Sam thought about the one and only Christmas she and Cliff spent together.

“Looks like San Francisco,” she muttered. “Feels like it, too.” She closed her eyes as they rolled up to the gate. She and Zelda stepped out of the airport first and she breathed in that marine air. She swore that New York was in fact her one true home, but there was just something about California that brought her more so into that feeling. That feeling that she needed to be there. All the fleeting thoughts led up to that moment there on the sidewalk.

Cliff's remains were not very far away from there, either.

She, Zelda, Marla, Aurora, and Belinda all stood at the curb as Charlie and Emile fetched their rental cars. All those men awaited them not too far from there, and Sam was eager to see Joey again given he flew in from Syracuse. That morning in which he and Belinda woke up before her and flirted with each other went through her mind every now and again. She never realized how much she wanted him until he put his arms around her and they locked eyes with each other. She needed to at the very least see him again: he also promised her a birthday gift.

Within time, Emile showed up with the little black car for himself and Aurora, while Charlie rolled up to the curb in a short dark green van. The four remaining girls piled inside away from the damp cold; Sam wanted to refer to him and Marla in the front seat as “Mom and Dad” again but she decided not to as she shivered under her jacket.

It wasn't New York, but Sam had forgotten how cold San Francisco could feel once the winter time set in.

“Okay, so we're going to a place called Marin Heights,” Charlie told them. “I think that's where the guys—Metallica—got the loft for us.”

“I've heard of it,” said Belinda from the middle seat.

“Me, too,” Sam added from the way back; Zelda huddled next to her and shook her head about. Sam had no idea as to why she didn't bring a jacket with her given it was winter in California. But instead, she peered out the small notch of a window to the Bay itself. She remembered that Testament were to film a music video out in Alcatraz, and those cold yellow lights from the island itself pierced through the foggy darkness. She wondered if they had finally wrapped up the recording of their first album since she wasn't able to sit in with them over the past couple of weeks because of school. She also wondered if she would receive any credit on it like with Stormtroopers of Death.

Charlie wound through the city until they reached the freeway, which in turn brought them up to Marin Heights, nestled back in the hills on the north side of town: they reached a switch back on the hillside so Sam was able to see the very top of the Golden Gate Bridge as it rose through the fog. The clouds themselves split apart so as to let the first rays of sunlight through and the metal of the bridge shone that bright amber color with the sunrise.

No wonder Cliff loved it there.

She sighed through her nose and turned her attention back to the road ahead of her as it turned away into the hills. Within time, they reached the top, and a small villa of little brick two story houses nestled back in the trees. She wondered if the wedding was going to be there as Charlie pulled up to the gravel driveway and stopped before the one closest to the street.

“I think this is us,” he informed them. “Or it might just be check in, I dunno.” He climbed out and then Sam and Zelda followed suit. The latter raised her lanky arms over her head and closed her eyes. Meanwhile, the former spotted a tall lanky boy with long black hair perched on a stone post on the other side of the driveway. He faced the other way but she knew those rich jet black curls anywhere.

“Joey?” she called out.

“Hm?” Zelda asked.

“Joey's over there.”

Zelda peeked around the rear end of the van and she nodded at her.

“Yeah, he is! Go get 'em!”

Sam then ducked around the end of the van and hurried over to him.

“Joey!” she called out. “Joey!”

He turned to face her with his eyebrows raised. He had lost a little weight so his waist was rather slim like Joey's, and the black hair dye held up, but she knew those deep eyes anywhere.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted him as she skidded to a stop before him.

“Hi,” Alex replied back to her with a thoughtful look on his face. “What's happening?”

“I thought you were Joey for a second.”

“You thought I was Joey?” he laughed at that.

“You have similar hair to each other.”

“His has more of a pile, though. Like right on top of his head. That big pile of ringlets atop his head.” He gestured to the crown of his head. “Even though I'm sitting down, I think he's a little bit shorter than me, too?”

“I think so?” Sam shifted her weight right there. Stray strands of his black hair lifted off of his shoulders in the wind and he ran his hand over the back of his head. He shivered from the feeling over his skin.

“God, it's cold out here,” he muttered as he adjusted his jacket.

“Yeah, it's pretty nippy. Not New York, but it's that California cold, though.”

“You know, both my parents are from New York,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Both obscenely smart Ivy League professors. They came out here before I was born to teach over at Berkeley.”

“Is that why you had the gray streak?” she asked him.

“Nah, I have no idea where that came from.” He shifted his weight yet again on that post. He seemed uncomfortable sitting there but Sam had no idea where to go right then. Charlie's voice behind her caught her ear and she peered over her shoulder at his talking to James.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Alex told her as he shifted his weight a fourth time. “Aurora told the five of us last week that it was her assistant's birthday and she didn't know what to get you.”

“Aw, thank you—it was back on the twenty first, though.”

“Happy belated,” he corrected himself, and she swore he winked at her. Someone called his name and he looked off to the distance.

“Hang on—” he said, and he darted past her towards Charlie.

“Sam?” Zelda called out to her, and she jogged back to her. Aurora had climbed out of Emile's car right next to them and she shivered inside of her windbreaker.

“What's up?”

“Apparently the wedding is today,” Aurora announced.

“Today?” Sam was stunned.

“Yeah. Three o'clock. I guess Kirk's lady couldn't wait for it a second longer so they're doing it today.”

“So we get a full weekend of good ol' fun,” Zelda added as she clasped her hands to her upper arms.

“Exactly!”

Sam turned her attention to Alex, who was talking to Charlie about something. His black hair twirled in the cold winter winds. Even from a distance, he had such a grave expression on his face that it made Sam think he was much older than in reality.

Belinda had the right idea: he was very precocious. But now she had a little bit of insight into the boy in that he was raised by intelligent parents. It was a start with Alex and she could only wonder from that point onward.

Aurora and Emile led her, Zelda, and Belinda into the cabin behind Charlie and Alex, and once they stepped inside of the cozy foyer, Zelda was eager to turn on the heater.

“Terrible idea not to pack a coat,” she muttered as she hurried down the front foyer in search of the thermostat, “terrible idea not to pack a coat!”

Sam and Belinda meanwhile took to the narrow stairwell in front of them, and they made their way up to that second level: to the right stood a couple of rooms, while to the left was the bathroom and two more rooms. The door at the far end stood slightly ajar, such that when they reached the top, they spotted that head of black curls outside the doorway.

“Hey, Joey,” Belinda greeted him. That lopsided grin and those big brown eyes returned the favor, and Sam's heart skipped a couple of beats at the sight of him. He didn't appear to be ready for a wedding at all with his plain white shirt, extra tight blue jeans, and ragged white socks.

“There are my girls,” he said as he padded closer to them.

“Oh deary me, you're gonna be down the hall from us?” Sam teased him.

“Yup, me, Frankie, and Charlie and Marla. We're gonna be all here at the end of the hall if you need anything.”

“You know the wedding is today right?” Belinda told him.

“Oh, shit, is it really?” Joey raised his eyebrows at that.

“Yeah, Aurora just told us,” Sam added, and her heart sank at the thought of him barely being in the know of these things. “Three o'clock. So Bel and I are gonna get settled in and get dressed.”

“Oh, damn, thank you,” he told her, and his brown eyes sparkled at the sight of her. Cold as the earth and as engulfing as venom. He doubled back to his room and Sam pushed open the door in front of her. Inside stood a small bunk bed and a heavy wooden dresser underneath the window.

“Top or bottom?” she asked Belinda.

“You're older and got way more inside, so top,” she replied as she lay her purse down on the faded blue comforter upon the bottom bed. Even though they had plenty of time before the wedding, Sam wanted to clean up, and change her clothes and look her best. She hadn't been to a wedding in what felt like forever: there was one from when she was three years old, but she had no memory of it and she had no clue as to who even got eloped then, either.

Belinda offered to curl her hair and do it up extra nice, but she promised her there was very little to actually do up given her hair sat flat on her head. If only she could make curls into a crown like with Joey, but she had what she had in the form of a red wine colored dress and a thin black sweater over the top: the dress was a bit snug around her hips but she need not obsess over something as trivial as that when she remembered what Joey wanted to give her.

She was about to head on back inside of their room when she spotted him on the other side of the hallway with the five men from Death Angel, if she recalled correctly. Once again with the quintets and she would learn all of their names in the meantime. But he had a box wrapped in old faded red wrapping paper tucked under his arm and she hoped it wasn't just a wedding gift, especially since he still hadn't gotten dressed.

He laughed at something one of them said and he turned around.

“Oh, there you are!” he called out to her, and he scurried towards her. The tape on the edges of the box and the crooked look of the paper itself told her he wrapped it in a hurry, but she didn't mind at all once she slid her fingers under the edge of the paper closest to her. Careful not to tear it, she unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of black leather gloves and a red and white knit scarf, the latter of which she ran her fingers over to find it softer than anything she had felt before. It was as soft as a cat.

“It's your own pair of gloves plus a scarf,” he declared. “I just think about how cold you always get upstate.” He shrugged at that.

“I love it, Joey! It's so soft.”

“It's cashmere.”

Sam gaped at him. “Cashmere,” she echoed him.

“Yeah—it was marked down, though. But it's cashmere. I wanted to give you something nice and good and good and nice.”

She slipped the gloves on and they fit around her fingers as if they were made for her. Joey offered to put the scarf around her neck; he stood before her, a country boy in a plain white shirt before a California girl in a dark red dress, and he wrapped the scarf around her.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered to her. “Happy birthday. Double deuces as of ten days ago!”

“Thank you—” She put her arms around him and she held him close. His slender little body was as soft as that scarf, and he smelled of fresh baked bread, something she would be willing to experience as long as he didn't have a drop of alcohol on hand.

Maybe there was in fact something more to life than being in that groove all the time. Maybe she could find a way to break out of her shell, and she could owe it all to him.

And she still hadn't told her parents about him.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #chapter 1 #a skeleton in the closet #book three #anthrax fanfic #anthrax #testament fanfic #testament band #joey belladonna #charlie benante #alex skolnick #oc tag #slow burn #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #writing #text #long reads

[avatar-state-kate]

it makes me so happy that you like pho because I'm viet and viet food seems pretty undiscovered still imo

Yeah I definitely can see that, which I don’t know why because pho is sooo good. I have a friend who is vietnamese who brought me to her fav Vietnamese restaurant, and I feel so lucky because idk if I would have tried pho otherwise (like I wouldn’t have known to try it). After that though I would drag any new friend I met to get pho for lunch since it was so close to campus and way better then any food you could get at school, and I can’t name a single person who didn’t like it.

Anyways if you haven’t tried pho try it!!!! Way better then chicken noodle soup if your sick.

#when I have a cold I like to get it and load it up with hot chilli oil #clears your nose right out #it’s like a hug in your tummy just so warm and comforting #ughhh I want pho now lol #but I agree anon if not for my friend I wouldn’t know to try it #it’s not like sushi or ramen or bubble tea which is amped up all over social

[sleepless-rain]

Karasuno studies! – View from the second years (Part 5) –

Translator: Leo | Sleepless-rain | Leoppii Editor: San | Naffnuffnice Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

NOTE: PLEASE READ ALL THE OTHER PARTS BEFORE THIS ONE (or at least part 4) as understanding the punchline of this section relies on the previous parts.

Kageyama left the bookstore with his monthly volleyball magazine, head filled only with thoughts of tako-pho. Combined with the post club activity hunger, Kageyama stumbled down the street. With a bump he walked into someone...

“WHAT?”

TRANSLATORS NOTE:

Please do NOT repost this translation ANYWHERE. If I see the whole thing elsewhere I will stop translating novel chapters and delete all chapter translations I have done. Sharing small snippets are okay but not the whole thing. Please link back to this tumblr post if you want to share it.

Jerking his head up in response to the angry outburst, Kageyama found himself looking up at the volleyball club’s second year member, Tanaka Ryuunosuke. The others, Nishinoya Yuu and Ennoshita Chikara, were here as well.

“…wait it’s just Kageyama. Why are you walking around all spaced out? You alright?” Tanaka asked.

Kageyama, still dazed, answered, “Huh. Uh, I’m fine. Just went to buy the monthly volleyball magazine.”

“Oh, lemmie have a look tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks… wait, that’s not what I meant! You’re looking spaced out! Are you seriously okay?” Tanaka gave Kageyama a worried look.

“No…” Kageyama pouted.

“What’s wrong? Is it something you’re worried about? You can tell Tanaka-senpai anything!”

Behind the proud Tanaka, Ennoshita had given up. “There it is, the senpai thing...”

But Kageyama played into it and told him, “Well, uh… I was just wondering what tako-pho was… ”

“Tako-pho?”

Upon hearing the unfamiliar word the second years exchanged glances. 

“What is it?”

“Do you know?” 

“Never heard of it.”

Ennoshita smiled teasingly, a second’s worth of eye contact saying, “Hey, you’re the senpai he can talk about anything to.” And flustered, Tanaka opened his mouth.

“Ah, well you know, it’s that thing! Ah… that thing! Yes! Like… the octopus version of pho!”

And to that Kageyama muttered quietly, “Ah, that’s what I thought…”

“What about it?”

“It’s just that I heard that Hinata and Yachi-san were going to make tako-pho…”

Why he was so concerned about them making tako-pho was unknown to even Kageyama himself. But it stuck to him like a thorn in his side and that bothered him. What was tako-pho?

Kageyama had clammed up and Nishinoya piped, “In other words, is it like imoni*? An imoni party? Is it time for this imoni leader’s debut? ” (* Imoni: this is a traditional dish in the Tohoku area, literal translation being “potato boiling” usually done in autumn on the riverside (this segment takes place in winter). A massive pot is set on rocks, and seasonal vegetables are put in to make a soup. The main ingredient is something called sato imo. There are different versions of imoni depending on where in Tohoku you have it (for example using beef instead of pork, miso instead of soysauce for the soup base). The original reference was to gyuujiru (a supposed beef version of tonjiru) . But I didn’t want to replace this whole Imoni section so it may seem a bit random for Nishinoya to suddenly bring it up. I apologise. )

“I don’t really get what you’re saying…” responded Kageyama, and Ennoshita cut in.

“No, isn’t it too cold for imoni?”

“What are you saying? If you put your spirit into it you can do it!”

“Really? Isn’t it too cold out?”

“Put some spirit into it Chikara!!”

“Imoni and spirit have nothing to do with each other!?”

“What are you saying Chikara? This is imoni we’re talking about!”

A sense of discord began to descend between Ennoshita and Nishinoya before Tanaka interrupted, “Wait, you guys. Stop it. We shouldn’t be arguing about miso based soup or soy-sauce based soup, or sato-imo or potatoes, right now is some precious time before the spring tournament, we don’t have time for this.”

Just as T anaka finished, Kageyama came to a realisation.

That’s it.

He wasn’t sure of the details of what Hinata and Yachi were talking about. But he was curious as it involved a topic similar to imoni. It wasn’t about the soup base or the type of noodles, not about the beef or chicken but….octopus. Thinking about it weighed on Kageyama’s thoughts and his hunger increased.

Imoni – this was a problem involving the identity of someone from Tohoku and Kageyama was a fine Tohoku born person.

“I knew I could count on you senpai…” he muttered and looked up at Tanaka, his face completely different from before, free of worry. “Thanks!” He bowed energetically, and took off at full sprint.

Tanaka, watching Kageyama’s silhouette, commented after him, “What was all that about just now…”

“I have no idea but it seems like he’s cheered up so it’s fine right?”

Tanaka replied to Ennoshita’s words with a “RIGHT!” He picked himself back up. 

“It’s your senpai power!” Nishinoya responded with a triumphant pose.

“You’re right! Senpai-power!”

Ennoshita started walking, leaving the laughing Nishinoya and Tanaka behind. “Hurry up, let’s go, it’s cold.” 

                                                            ***

“Hey sis, can I ask you something?” Tanaka, who had just arrived home, turned stiffly towards his sister, Saeko, who was wearing a face mask. 

“What is it?”

“So… what do you think tako-pho is?” Tanaka asked his face mask covered sister awkwardly.

“Huh? Tako-pho? No idea. Like an octopus version of pho or something? Is this a new menu item at the restaurant?” Saeko replied through her teeth as to avoid wrinkling the mask, and hearing her response, Tanaka laughed in relief. Thank god. 

He didn’t tell his precious junior any lies. Thank god...

Seeing her relieved little brother, Saeko let out an unrestrained laugh. “I’ll be the one to tako-pho** this Tanaka household though.”

“A pun, really? You drinking already?”　Tanaka frowned and Saeko’s expression changed quickly.

“Shut up. Get to your room and start studying already. Didn’t you do badly on the term tests?”

“What? Did you look at them without telling me? It wasn’t a failing grade so it’s fine!” 

Seeing Tanaka’s face go red, she gave his head a poke. “Haha, you can’t fool me. You just missed the failing grade. With a brain like that, are you really my little bro?”

“W-what!? You mean you lied about seeing my papers!?” 

“High school students should be studying! Study!”

And so the pitiful Tanaka was pushed upstairs to his room by his older sister who had taken over the house and its residents. 

                                                              ***

“Studying… huh…” Tanaka laid out over his bed and reached over to take a textbook from his desk. And as he opened it to look at the pages, as if he had been knocked unconscious, he fell asleep.  That was quick. A strangely clean and new English textbook closed neatly on the bed covers. 

It seems that it’s a little too early for some of the first and second years to be focusing on studying.

And so the third years will graduate soon and new students will start high school. Tanaka and the others will become third years and a new Karasuno volleyball club will be born. And when that day comes, this responsible senpai will surely be the support for an amazing team. Probably. 

TRANSLATION NOTES:

**Tako-pho: In this case a better translation would be “rule the roost” but Saeko has used the same word play from part 4. Her intention for it to mean  “Take over“ as Hinata had used when speaking to Yachi.

As a small disclaimer:  I have taken some liberties in translation to make the novel read smoothly. So please don’t quote specific words as canon. That being said I tried my best to stay faithful to the original.  For this reason I will not allow translations into another language using this as the base text. I apologise to anyone who is keen on sharing it in another language but please do so using the original Japanese text.

Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter please consider supporting Haikyuu and buying a copy of this novel (volume 11) ! I may consider doing more novel translations in the future!

I do have a Ko-fi so if you do feel like it, please donate!

#leo translation #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #hq!! #haikyuu light novel #nishinoya yu #tanaka ryuunosuke #ennoshita chikara #tanaka saeko #karasuno

[fuckyeahjeremyclarkson]

When I was a small boy, we’d eat out once a year, always at the Berni Inn in Doncaster. The choices were not extensive. To start, it was either grapefruit juice or pineapple juice, and then it was breaded plaice or steak. Mind you, customers were able to choose how they’d like their meat cooked. For an hour. Or for much, much longer. The vegetables, meanwhile, went into the pot when you booked the table.

I knew this was wrong, even when I was only six, because my dad was a fanatical cook. He would cook for people all day. He cooked for the postman. He cooked for the women who worked for my mum in the barn at the bottom of the garden. And when he ran out of people to cook for, he’d make elaborate cakes for the birds.

He would rise at six so he could start cooking and I still yearn for some of the things he made. Tripe in a simple milk sauce, especially. And his roasted heart was one of the cornerstones of my childhood. Alongside Mungo Jerry, being bullied and the hedgehog-print jeans my mum made for me because Levi’s were too expensive. And which were the root cause of much of the bullying.

Later, in my teens, he would take me to London occasionally, and we’d go to a restaurant at 235 King’s Road, which was called 235 King’s Road. Or an Italian place on the Earls Court Road called Il Palio, where Bruno the owner and his chef would have furious rows all night long. And then at lunchtime, he’d take me to a place he knew in Marylebone for a salt beef sandwich.

Later, as my mum’s business started to become more successful, we’d go to San Lorenzo in Beauchamp Place and Odin’s, which belonged to Peter Langan. And I didn’t like the food they cooked because it wasn’t plain. It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t tripe in a milk sauce. It wasn’t roast heart.

Much later, AA Gill did his best to make me understand food and cooking. He would take me to places where the rabbit tasted like bacon and the pigeon like ham, and he would swoon and kiss the chef on the mouth. And I’d stare wistfully at my pigeon, thinking, “If I’d wanted something that tasted like ham, I’d have ordered ham.”

This is why I despise all provincial restaurants today. And please don’t write to tell me about a place your daughter-in-law has just opened in Penrith, because I won’t like that either. In restaurants outside London, it’s always about the chef’s ability to create a visual taste sensation. No one’s allowed to talk. You are expected to sit there in reverential silence, marvelling at how the single piece of cress is a perfect accompaniment for the bubbles in the broth.

And it’s bollocks. When I go out to eat, it’s because I can’t be arsed to do the washing-up. I want exactly what I’d make at home, only without the faff of making it. Shepherd’s pie. Spaghetti bolognaise. Lamb chops with new potatoes. And no effing sauce. I also don’t want a new concept, where I order 876 little things and then share them all with the people on the table by the loo. Or plates made from wood, or metal. I swear to God, restaurants that do this always provide cutlery that you can’t hold properly, so you can’t stab the waiter.

What a whopper: Clarkson lovingly cradles a marrow grown in the new kitchen garden at his 1,000-acre farm in Oxfordshire

What I hate most of all, though, is travelling with film crews. Because when we are abroad, they treat food as fuel. Which means we never walk the streets looking for the sort of restaurant that does home cooking well. They just eat whatever is provided at the hotel, which is almost always like the sort of food you get in Birmingham.

Nicola Formby — aka the Blonde made famous by AA Gill’s reviews — is always suggesting little places in back streets that do great gnocchi on a bed of lightly killed rattlesnake, but I don’t want that. I want simple. I had roast grasshoppers in Cambodia and Burma and they were terrific. I had a trout, plucked from the stream next to my table in Croatia, and then grilled. And that was even better. But the absolute best food I’ve ever eaten was a bruschetta in Bologna. Bread. Olive oil. Tomatoes. Basil, probably, and maybe some balsamic vinegar. I can’t be sure because after smoking half a million cigarettes, my taste buds have the sensitivity of steel. All I knew is they were really good tomatoes on a really nice piece of bread.I can add another couple of things to this list of culinary triumphs. The chicken pho by a chef called Ms No at the Six Senses Con Dao island resort off Vietnam. And the Denny’s breakfast experience in any of those Reacher towns in the red bits of America.If you break a perfectly poached egg, and in Denny’s the poached eggs are always perfect, onto their hash browns, I swear you end up with a taste sensation that would stop Jesus in his tracks. I have searched the world for hash browns made the Denny’s way, but when they’re offered, the chef has always suffused them with his own twist. By which I mean “ruined them”.

I have a similar global quest to find a better eggs benedict than the one I was given at the then Regent Hotel in Hong Kong, back in 1988. So far, it’s no dice. No one gets the simplicity right. Simplicity is always the key to my enjoyment of food. It’s why, when I cook, I never use cheese unless what I’m making is cheese on toast or a cheese sandwich. This is because cheese is a powerful flavour that sits in the pan like the Russian president sits in a room full of diplomats from former Soviet states. It’s the same story with bacon. Pop that into the mix and what you always end up with is something that tastes of bacon.

“Are you not getting the delicate hints of pomegranate?”

“Nope. Just bacon.”

All of which takes me back to my dad’s roast heart. I sometimes look online for how this might be made and what I get is “roasted ox heart stuffed with a mushroom duxelle” or “beef heart braised in wine” or “lamb’s heart stuffed with lemon thyme and streaky bacon”. No. And then no again.

And nor can you serve them with a Dover sole so you have the chance for a jokey “Heart and Sole” offering in the menu. I just want heart. I like the taste of it as it is. I like the texture and all I want added is a spoonful of mashed potato to mop up the blood.

I’ve just started an internet thing called FoodTribe, on which people can share thoughts and ideas on food. And I’m going to be sharing this quest for simplicity a lot. I may even go further and start turning the stuff I grow on my farm into straightforward food that I can sell in my simple, straightforward, unheated shop.

As I write, I have three sheep that are due to go “down the road”. I feel sad in some ways, but I’m cheered by the fact that I can have their hearts. And even more cheered by the fact that I’ve accidentally grown 20 tons of potatoes. It’s going to be a supper that makes me feel young again and it will be the first I’ve grown entirely by myself.

Yes. I started a kitchen garden earlier this year and have spent the past few months taking a weird pride that the spring onions, and the carrots and the peas and especially the golden beets, all of which were grown by my own . . . ability to tell girlfriend, Lisa, and gardener, Josh, exactly what I like.I don’t know why we enjoy eating vegetables that we’ve grown ourselves more than those grown by some disinterested Mexican on minimum wage. Maybe it’s because we know we haven’t urinated on them. Or because we know that no carbon was burnt in their trip from the soil to our table. But whatever the reason, we do. And I cannot wait to do that with meat as well. It’s simplicity in its purest form.

Jeremy’s recipes will be added to the next post to avoid this one turning into an enormous monster

#Jeremy Clarkson #Sunday Times Magazine #food #foodtribe