#but then you grow older and maybe you travel a little and even study abroad and you read the news and you realise

[bonksoundeffect]

The born in Eastern Europe curse of knowing you were doomed from the start

[alwayschasingrainbows]

Part 1 of Dean Priest's headcanons (written in a great hope he shall be forgiven):

Dean's first memory is seeing his mother cry. She is hiding in his nursery, with her bowed head, her shoulders shaking with sobs. He reaches out to stroke her hair, trying to comfort her. She wraps her arms around him and whispers "remember, dear, you ARE enough". Years later, he isn't quite sure if he hadn't dreamt it - but he clings to the memory nonetheless. It is all he has.

He grows up, seeing his parents argue. Well, it is his father who raises his voice - his mother never does. She doesn't scream even when his father throws a dinner plate at her. Dean can't help thinking his parents argue because of him.

Dean learns there is a difference between him and the other children, when he is only a few years old. He can't run or play the way other children can. His brothers and sisters are all lively and loud - he isn't. That's why he asks his mother to read him stories. She spends more time with Dean than with her other children (he needs me more, she thinks) or her husband (nobody could blame her for THAT). But Dean sees the envious glances his siblings and father throw at him. Envious - and hateful. It is when he knows - they despise him, too. He keeps telling himself he doesn't care - up to the point he almost believes it.

His mother sings him an old lullaby. She has a lovely, melodic voice. He knows the lyrics by heart. "On a night like this I always think of the 'hills where spices grow.' For years, he hopes that one day he'll be able to 'fly like a youthful hart or roe.' He remembers the day he realizes he won't.

Dean learns how to read very early on. He reads and writes better than his older siblings and everyone notices that. His teachers praise him in front of the class and, for the first time in his life, he feels proud. But then, he hears whispers. He is lame. It is his own brother who starts calling Dean a Jarback and the name sticks. His brother never dares to call him like this in front of their mother, but doesn't hold his tongue in front of father. And father only smiles, in his own, wicked way, so Dean knows he must have heard. He never says a word, though. Dean tells himself it doesn't matter. But his resentment grows.

His mother dies when Dean is only eight years old. Dean is the only one who can't cry (people will later say he's souless - not only lame, not only a Jarback, but also souless). He puts a single, white lily on his mother's grave (he hates lillies afterwards).

Life goes on. Slowly, Dean becomes more and more of a Jarback. He turns to books - they are the only company he will ever need, he tells himself.

Uncle James suddenly dies, with no wife nor children, when Dean is sixteen. He leaves all of his fortune to Dean, to the horror of the clan. He's the only one with brains, Uncle James used to say. All Priests hate Dean a little more - but he only laughs. His laughter has a cynical ring to it, now.

Dean doesn't believe in friendship, so at first he doesn't trust Douglas. Why should he? Douglas is everything Dean has never been. He's good-looking, strong, kind. But they both love books, so in a time, they warm up to each other. They spend long hours in library, arguing over the complexity of human relationships in A Tale of Two Cities, and Dean thinks that maybe... maybe he can be happy.

Perhaps there is something between Dean and Douglas, or perhaps not. Dean never finds out. He goes abroad to study, while Douglas finds a job as a journalist. Dean offers him a loan, but Douglas is too proud to take it. "I'll earn the money and join you". But he never does - because Juliet Murray happens, with her slow, blossoming smile. Douglas writes him about the wedding and Dean writes back, congratulating them. He doesn't understand - for many years he doesn't understand, not until Emily smiles at him - her mother's smile, he later finds out - and he's utterly lost.

He travels to escape. He travels to forget.

He tries to write a book, once. He vowes he will never try again. *inspired by a fanfic*

He tells Emily "I'll wait for you" and hates himself for that. After all, she's just a child. Douglas' child, which is far worse. Dean loved her father - he isn't sure what the love was, as a friend, as a... But now, Douglas is gone and Emily is the only thing Dean has left. *Douglas/Dean inspired by fanfic and conversation on tumblr*.

Dean thinks Emily is going to be gone, too. But he picks up the broken aster she crushed and puts it away between the page of Jane Eyre. He marks a verse "All glorious rose upon my sight / That child of shower and gleam." *canon*

He asks Emily if she's going to miss him. He no longer travels to escape - he travels to hear her voice say "very much so, Dean".

(Part 2 in a a separate post, because it is too long).

[elias--jensen]

[ colin morgan, cis male, he/him ] — whoa! ELIAS “EJ” JENSEN just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 5 YEARS, working as a FRONT DESK MANAGER. that can’t be easy, especially at only 32 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit STUBBORN and SNARKY , but i know them to be AMBITIOUS and LOYAL. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to BROOKLYN! — (jessie, 30, est, she/her, none)

Name: Elias “EJ” Jensen FC: Colin Morgan Age: 32 Sexuality: Bisexual Pronouns: He/Him Birthday: May 11, 1991 Zodiac: Taurus  Birthplace: Cranford, NJ Current Location: Brooklyn, NY

tw verbal abuse

FAMILY

EJ grew up in the suburbs of middle class America. Picture perfect families surround the hell hole he was living in. Some on EJ's first memories are his parents fighting in the living room. Their voices would echo through the home, but Nat was there. Natalie is his older sister. His rock, his protector, his home. She would squeeze him close to her chest, and tell him everything was alright. Even if it wasn't. Finally once their parents got a divorce, they would spend their school year in Jersey with their mom. And during the summer they would be with their dad in the city. During this time in his life, he was very angry. At his parents, at the world, at himself. It took years and a lot of family therapy to work past it, but it lingers and bleeds into his friendships and relationships.

OCCUPATION

Always known for kissing ass, EJ seemed to thrive in customer service. He knew how to plaster on a smile and to read in-between the lines. From a young age, he was always working and trying to make money. He wanted to grow up so badly, and to be on his own. In high school, he found a love for music. Blasting the speakers as loud as they could go, and singing on the top of his lungs. It was the pipe dream he followed for a long time. To his parents disapproval, he dropped out of college to travel with a band he had auditioned for. The problem with pipe dreams, as his father would say, "They always fail. You need to be realistic." When EJ found himself sleeping in his childhood home, with his mother and her boyfriend of week in the kitchen, he knew his dad was right. After applying for any place that was hiring, he landed an interview for a front desk job at a Holiday Inn. With that smile and a lot of luck, he got the job. Until he had the money, he would take the train into the city. But as soon as he could afford it, he found a room in Brooklyn. Whenever he has the opportunity, he plays open mics here and there. But he's had to put his love of performing on the backburner.

CONNECTIONS

Natalie Cruz, 35, EJ's Older Sister

Natalie is EJ's rock and wants to know everything that's going on in his life. She would fuss and worry over him, even lecture him when he got in trouble. As much as it annoyed him, he needed her. They needed each other. Nat is almost like a second mother to him, but it's hard for EJ to admit that. Plus she has her own babies to look after. She has a 3 year old daughter named Maeve and a 1 year old son named Mateo. She's married to her partner, Valerie Cruz. They been together for 7 years. She stayed in Jersey and he visits them as often as he can.

Judy Byrne, 56 and William Jensen, 54

Looking back, it was a miracle and curse that his parent's marriage lasted 10 years. EJ's parents were the exact opposite, and it over time they hated each other for it. His mom was very outgoing, but his dad was more shy. His dad loved getting to their destination, while his mom would find any reason to stop and look at the view. It was hard to believe there was a time they got along. They met when his dad was studying abroad in Ireland. "Almost like a fairytale, it was love at first sight." His dad would say, reminiscing about people they didn't exist anymore. After the divorce, EJ didn't really have a relationship with either of them, as much as they tried. It got easier as time went on, and they all grew up. His mom never remarried, and his father is on his 3rd marriage. EJ's relationship with his parents now consist of awkward phone calls, and showing face at holiday parties.

James Anstead, 33, EJ's Childhood Friend (WANTED)

The first time they met, James was standing at their front door and tears in his eyes. A few minutes earlier, a ball had flown through their window, glass shattering everywhere. His mother had made him come to their door to apologize. All EJ could think about was how James was able to kick the ball that far. That not only did he find out they were practically neighbors, but he found his new best friend. Throughout their whole lives, they stayed partners in crime. Even now when they don't get to see each other as often, he would drop everything to help James.

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: chapter threeeee here it is!!! hehe thank you all for being patient for this update and thank you as always for giving this fic your love!! i start out the first part of this chapter in 3rd person which is a lil different, but i wanted to try it out! hehe i love hearing what ya thought of the chapter too! 😊

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, skz side characters, 3rd person for the first section, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, mentions of food, brief talk of gaining weight while travelling, there’s a few spoilers hidden in this one...can ya find them? ;) 

CWs: blood and other wounds, shooting at a convenience store, thoughts about death and dying when in peril 

Word count: 5.6k 

Parts

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

Two years of pocket change and Seungmin had finally saved up enough money to afford to study abroad. It had nearly taken him life and limb, and he might’ve suffered (1) concussion from a bowl of soup being thrown at his head, but, he had done it. 

With grease stains on his sneakers Seungmin traversed the long and stretching corridor of the airport terminal with his backpack strapped onto him tightly. The air smelled different here. It was fresher than he was used to--coming from a large city center--everything here felt more pristine. Outside of the tall glass windows, airplanes lifted off into the sky like massive metal giants. He couldn’t remember properly, but the last time that he must’ve been on a plane, it likely had been when his mother...

Seungmin shook the dusty and cobwebbed ideas out from his head. 

No more sad thoughts. 

I’m gonna like it here. He thought to himself, then clipped the little buckle to his backpack straps over his chest with a determined huff. 

I’m really going to like it here. 

With his phone in hand, he tried his best to decipher what the signs said above him. Mostly, they looked like a jumbled mess of symbols, but luckily he had spent some time trying to learn the language between shifts and sneaking peeks at his little dictionary under the diner counter. The whole terminal buzzed with a lovely kind of energy, and he was thrilled to get to know it better. The first wonderful thing about travelling abroad was that no one knew who he was, and he could be whoever he wanted. In this new land, no one knew him or anything about the dingy little apartment that he had lived in. No one knew about his less than honorable roommates or the debt that he had put himself under to go to college in the first place. 

I could be a prince for all they know. 

Seungmin liked that idea a lot. 

His stomach grumbled as he passed by food stands, however he hadn’t had the chance yet to change his currency, so he knew that he would have to wait just a minute longer. Seungmin had been assigned a host family by his college, and he hoped like crazy that they would be the kind to cook for him. Seungmin had heard somewhere that kids who go on study abroad gain a ton of weight at first...but he didn’t mind. Where else would he get the chance? 

There had been a host father that had sent him an email a couple weeks ago--that he promptly had to run through Google Translate--who told him that he would meet him outside the main luggage claim area after his flight landed. Seungmin had tried to look up and see if his host family were on social media, but he could find no such profile of theirs. He decided it probably was better that it was a surprise. 

Seungmin lugged his two large suitcases out to the summer air of the new and strange land, and it finally hit him. Standing on the solid ground of another land thousands of miles away from his home, it was really all happening. 

The landscape outside was like that of a movie scene: rolling hills and jagged mountains capped with snow, adorable little homes built into the countryside and tiny cars with horizonal license plates. The sun was warm in the cerulean sky that puffed with perfectly white clouds. On the air, the scent of flowers wafted, and he was certain that there was a lake nearby too--he had researched it. There were old men in their caps with a crook in their back, and ladies with long floral skirts and dresses with Mary Janes. Each of them had smile lines on their faces and under their eyes as if they had all lived lives well lived. There were pretty girls too with slender legs and delicate arms swaddled in light scarves. 

Seungmin wouldn’t have minded getting a girlfriend on this trip. While he kept the fact to himself, Seungmin had never really done anything with a girl before outside of some awkwardly handsy kissing in middle school. Maybe this time around, he would finally get his chance: he had read somewhere that girls often like foreigners. 

“Seung Min! Seung Min?” A man’s voice called. 

The young college student whipped his head around in the direction of the sound, finally finding a middle aged man with salt-and-pepper hair with whiskers of the same color. He had red cheeks and a large nose, and looked a bit like a character from a comic. Seungmin waved back, greeting his new father. When they met, the older man threw him into a large hug with a chuckle. He smelled a bit like Tabaco and old leather. He had a couple missing teeth, but that didn’t lessen his bright smile. 

“English?” Seungmin’s host father asked. 

“Yeah! I can speak English.” He returned with a welcoming grin. 

“I thought it would be good for us to speak English since I don’t know your tongue and you don’t know mine...meet in the middle?” 

“Thank you for coming to get me!” He said, handing the man his suitcases which were just a bit too big for the tiny trunk of the car that looked as if it had come from the 80′s. In the end, they decided to put his bags in the backseat. 

The man beamed with smiling eyes. “Of course...son!” 

Seungmin gave him a little bow, “Heh, thank you.”

“Get in the car! You must be hungry right? Long flight?”

“Oh yes, it was really long.” 

“You will eat well here! Mother knows how to feed well. She will put meat on your bones. She did with me!” He guffawed out with hearty laughter, and Seungmin already knew that he would really like this man. 

“We have a room ready for you back at home, and I will show you tomorrow how to use the buses. Okay?” 

Seungmin nodded with a bit of rose to his cheeks. He found his hand wandering down to his arm which he pinched at lightly--cliché as it was. His host father coughed and the engine sputtered, then they took off away from the sounds of jet engines to the countryside which was scattered with churches with protruding steeples and all kinds of homes with red-orange roofs and perfectly symmetrical windows. Seungmin couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the window as they drove on to take in the whole scene. Never had he seen a place so beautiful or magical looking. They drove on past a crystal clear lake that stretched on and on to the base of a mountain appearing to claw at the heavens, and adorned in emerald green pines and other deciduous trees. If it was even possible, he had never seen greener grass in all his life. 

“Beautiful, eh?” His host father said while tuning the radio. 

“It’s amazing.” The young student said in his amazement. “Oh, do you know if there is somewhere I can change my money? I don’t have any of your money yet.” 

“Ah!” The older man said with a wink. “I know of a place. I can take you there first.” 

The radio hummed with a static fuzz as Seungmin’s host father messed with it, skipping over the channels, blurring the music and the talk radio all together. 

Seungmin tried out the best he could to make out the words he knew, but even then he didn’t focus too hard, not when he had all this to take in. 

Mad....crime....joke...violence in the South...drugs...unknown...information...hiding...red... 

“Ah!” His host father called out after changing the channel once more, “I love this song!” He held his chest with an affectionate grasp. “The song of my homeland!” 

Seungmin whipped his attention back, trying to listen to the song that sounded anthem-like, and was sung by what sounded like several men harmonizing. Seungmin tried to focus on the melody--it was nothing like he head heard before. It sounded very...honorable. 

The small car whipped up to what looked to be a gas station on the edge of the town with one single pump and a little convenience store attached to it. In the window he read the yellow and black sign saying Currency Exchange. 

“This is what you need?” 

Seungmin nodded in his thanks then stretched his legs out once he exited, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Are you coming too?” 

The older man shook his head and took out a pack of cigarettes. “I’ll gas the car, you go in.” 

The young man gave his host father one more nod, then set fourth inhaling the immaculate summer air into his lungs. It was as if the very oxygen there held the vitality of life; he almost felt bad wasting it on himself. 

The door swung open with the tiny tinkling of bells and he entered to the smell of cured meats hanging on hooks along side the dry scent of the refrigerators holding their display of soft drinks with labels that he had never seen before. He chuckled a little seeing the giant slab of meat with twine hanging from the ceiling as such. 

“Free sample?” The attendant said while he picked his teeth with a toothpick. “Foreigner?” He added after looking Seungmin up and down. 

“Yes, and no thank you. But, can I exchange my currency here?” 

The unamused man nodded in the direction of the little kiosk in the corner of the shop. He went back to reading his tabloid where he slumped in a stool surrounded by an assortment of candy and cookies. 

Seungmin picked his mother tongue first on the little screen, robotic and green, thankful to see Korean for the first time in this new place. He navigated to the options screen. Behind him, the little bells tinkled to the shop door again, followed by the sound of the attendant scrambling out of his stool, metal legs scraping the floor. 

The student turned his head around in the commotion, taking in four very strange looking customers. Firstly, they were all covered in blood in one way or another, and each of them wore clothes--pajamas from the looks of it--which were shredded, torn, and blackened by something that might’ve been soot. Three men and one woman, and they all had a bit of a crazed look to their eyes. Clearly, none of them cared that they had walked into the store looking as such. 

Seungmin pressed his body to the corner of the shop, as if this could make him invisible. The attendant cowered behind the counter with a series of scared sounding whimpers. 

“Wh-what do you want?” He asked in his native tongue with quaking breaths. 

One of the men in the group wearing a flannel with chocolate brown hair threw open one of the fridges, took out a water bottle, cracked it open, then greedily slugged the liquid down his throat. 

“Pay the man, Fox.” He said to a man with pure white hair and shattered glasses. 

The man with white hair and glasses nodded, digging through his pockets. The man with the flannel then proceeded to revenge the place, opening up snacks and shoving the cheesy dust into his mouth with gluttonous moans and crunching loudly with an open mouth. Had he not been doing something as unsavory as such, Seungmin thought that he was pretty handsome, and somewhat familiar. The other three simply stood and watched as he did so calmly, and surveyed the shelves themselves after a moment. 

The attendant clocked Seungmin with fearful and confused eyes and Seungmin truly didn’t know what to do besides melt into the corner with the currency exchange kiosk. 

A man in running clothes ran a hand through his deep brown hair, then turned to grab several first-aid supplies in his hand. Seungmin noticed that he had a horrible gash over his eye that crusted and bled into the white of his sclera. The woman approached the attendant with arms crossed over her thin camisole that was stained a number of different colors which Seungmin didn’t want to identify. He noticed that she was only wearing white socks that were nearly stained green. 

“You do currency exchange right?” She said with a bold kind of confidence. “EGP?” 

The attendant shook in his boots, then pointed a trembling finger at Seungmin. The young man nearly felt his heart stop. The woman had stern eyes that were bagged with exhaustion, but that didn’t make her any less intimating. While she too looked a wreck, there was something about her so cold and threatening that Seungmin felt like crumpling up into a ball. Over it all, she was startlingly beautiful too. 

“Are you done?” She asked him kindly, and Seungmin struggled to get out a feeble “yes.” Of course, he hadn’t actually drawn any money out yet, but this seemed to be the best answer. 

The man in running clothes dumped a large arrangement of goods on the counter with an emotionless expression: coffee drinks, shooters of alcohol, gauze and tape, Band-Aids, anti-bacterial ointment, gum, a couple lighters and toothpaste with four tooth brushes, combs, several bottles of water, sour candy, and, oddly, condoms. 

The man with white hair came behind him to provide the cash to pay, and the attendant rang the odd group up with nervous glances to the man in the flannel who destroyed the store further. That man laughed maniacally as he popped open the plastic packaging to a pastry, then shoved in as of much of it as he could, smearing white cream over his lips. 

“Bee!! You have to try this!! A day driving through the woods and this is fucking fantastic!” He jumped up and down like an ecstatic toddler--but this was a strange juxtaposition to all the blood staining his arms and the fabric of his flannel. 

“Have some decency, Your Highness.” The woman chided, then held out her hand as the bills dispensed from the little machine. 

“Your Highness?” Seungmin muttered, not really understanding why he was still in there in the first place. 

“Fucking scam.” She muttered. “Is this all that you have??” She growled at the attendant. 

“It’s a little thing!! What do you expect??” He stammered with hands thrown in the air as if she had pointed a gun at his head. 

“F, tell Carroll to wire us when we get to Egypt. This’ll barely get us a place to stay.” 

“When I get internet access, sure, I’ll try my best.” The man with white hair said with an edge to his voice, sarcasm clearly giving it a type of bite. He then took to shoving all of their goods into plastic bags since the attendant had been too fearful to do so. He slid a few spare bills onto the countertop. “This is for everything that he ate.”  

“Do you have a bathroom?” The woman demanded, and the shopkeeper nodded, giving one more fearful glance to the college student. 

“Is there somewhere around here to get clothes?” The man with running clothes asked. 

“I-In town, a couple minutes in--” 

Outside of the little store, the sound of tires screeching on cement screamed, and all four of the strangers whipped their heads in the direction. Seungmin jumped too at the sound, and held his backpack to his chest tightly as if it were some kind of safety vest. 

The four strangers gravely exchanged terrified glances before throwing their bodies to the floor without a word. 

“GET DOWN!” The woman screamed, and in milliseconds, the rapid-fire crack of machine gun bullets came shattering the glass of the convenience store. 

Seungmin too threw all of his weight to land on his stomach on the cold linoleum floors and pressed his cheek against it while his ears rang. Tiny shards of glass pricked at his hands, but this adrenaline didn’t even let him feel the pain. He was certain that he must’ve been hyperventilating, because the room had started to spin among the relentless sounds of metal shells hitting the ground and metal shelves being upended from the force. The room filled with the smell of dozen different kinds of foods as packaging was ripped open and food and drink came spilling to the ground. The shopkeeper whimpered out loud prayers in his native tongue while he hid behind the counter. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as three of the strangers whipped out hand guns from their waistbands and knelt down behind the remaining shelves to shoot back at the black van outside. 

Seungmin pinched his arm with eyes shut. 

He wished he hadn’t. 

oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. He bit the words into his lip. 

“Hey kid!” The man with white hair growled at him. “You okay?” 

While the two of them looked nearly to be the same age, this other man with snow white hair seemed to know what he was doing, so Seungmin decided to take the smallest bit of solace in that over the deafening sound of bullets. 

“I-I think so?!” 

“Keep your head down!” He said with gritted teeth, then angled his gun with a squinted eye. 

“Bee??? Bee?” The fourth man with the flannel cried. 

“Head. Down.” She said while firing more shots. 

The room filled with a thin haze, and Seungmin covered his ears with bloody fingers. 

The strangers fired their guns until there was nothing left, then escaped hiding behind the shelves with heaving chests. The young man had curled up into the fetal position, mouth feeling deathly dry with hot tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Seungmin didn’t know that he had gone on this trip for his life to end. 

How fucking cruel fate was. 

His body shook, and he clung to his bag for dear life, waiting for it all to end, and for his time to come. Seungmin would’ve thought that in the moments before he had died, he wanted to think of all the good things that had happened in his life, but, he was disappointed to find that all he could come up with was fear. 

“Did you get a look at him?” One of the strangers yelled on the other side of Seungmin’s muffled ears. 

“NO!” One of them barked back. 

“He was wearing the crest!! The red!!” The woman called out. 

The world was black behind his eyelids, but anything was better than the scene that was actually unfolding before the terrified college student. Soon, the sounds faded, and Seungmin was then really convinced that it had finally happened. This was it. He was even still scared to open his eyes. 

A grip at his arm pulled him up. 

“You okay? They’re gone. You kinda blacked out there for a second.” It was the woman had pulled him up to his feet. 

His head spun seeing the carnage of the destroyed store, and the student became dizzier by the second. 

“I-I think I’m about to black out again--” His knees felt week and his vision blurred. 

“Hey! Hey!” One of the other strangers, the one with the running clothes scooped him back up and gave a light pat to his face. “You’re alright! See?” 

Miraculously, Seungmin really was unscathed. 

“Who-who are you? Who...who the hell were they? What the FUCK was that?” 

The four of them exchanged glances once more, communicating some kind of silent understanding between all of them. 

“What’s your name kid?” The white-haired one said as he put his gun back into his waistband. 

“S-Seungmin?” 

“Ok Seungmin, there’s a lot going on here that you really shouldn’t be aware of, and there's a lot of answers that I can’t give you, I just need to to trust me, alright?” 

“O-okay?” 

Now that the shop was devoid of windows, the summer breeze came blowing into the store--an odd contrast to the mess that was made all over the glass shards and food. 

“You’re safe now. They’ve gone. No one can hurt you.” 

“A-are you sure about that?” 

“We need to get going. I don’t know why the hell they leaved when they had us cornered, but we can’t be here for long.” The man in running clothes said with a tentative bite to his lip. 

The woman nodded. “You’re right Two.”

“What do we do with him though?” The man supposedly named Two said, motioning to Seungmin. 

“D-do?” His eyes widened to frightful full moons. “D-do????” 

“We take him with?” The man in the flannel suggested and shrugged. 

The woman rolled her eyes. “You don’t call the shots on stuff like this, Your Highness.” 

“H-Highness? What??” Seungmin blabbered. 

The man with white hair snatched the young student’s bag from his hands. “You got a laptop in that bag of yours?” 

“--H-HEY!” 

He man pulled out Seungmin’s dismal Chromebook that he had also saved several months for. 

“Hm. This will do.” 

“I guess we don’t have any other choice...” The woman rolled her eyes. “Introductions later. They could be coming back.” 

“Hey, HEY!” The shopkeeper yelled, then rose from his hiding place to look in despair at his destroyed shop, and his aging cured meat slab stuck with bullet holes on the floor. 

“We’ll take care of it all. We apologize.” The man in the flannel bowed deeply. 

Sunlight stung Seungmin’s strained eyes, and he realized that he had completely forgotten about his host father in his little car from the 80′s. To his surprise, the little car was nowhere to be seen. 

“M-my dad??” He said under his breath, also realizing that all of his belongings had gone with the man too. All he now had left to his name was his passport, a spare set of clothes, his laptop, and a couple school journals. 

“Get in.” The man named Two said while throwing open the door, but then gave him squinted wink. “Been to Egypt before?” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“This mission is fucked.” Jeongin muttered to you, voice echoing slightly in the cobblestone alley. 

“Yeah, it certainly seems like it.” 

You fiddled with you new blouse. It was two times as itchy as you had expected and two times as expensive, but you had been desperate. With all of the spare supplies destroyed in the bombing, you and your partner had found yourselves hopelessly empty handed. 

“Carroll is gonna have our asses. Fuck...” Jeongin slicked a hand through his hair with a bandaged arm. “We can’t take that kid to Egypt with us!! We already have to be on high alert for the prince...and now this??” 

Your partner threw his head back incredulously against the brick wall, then stopped to watch the rest of the group sitting outside of the café and garnering odd glances from passerby's. 

“Well what the hell else to do we do??” 

Jeongin shrugged, then looking to the side shamefully. “You...know what the protocol is. We can’t stay here to watch over him until someone from the agency comes...and, we’re running out of time...White Rabbit is waiting for our correspondence..” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The poor young kid, naïve as he was, you couldn’t but help but feel bad for him. Not only was he all alone out there as he had explained, it appeared as if his host father had made off with all of his things too. It was hard to not pity the kid. 

“Y/n, you know that he’ll only drag us down. If we take him with, his life becomes our problem. If he dies, we’ll have to answer to whoever his family is and we both know that could get messy. We already have a mission: get the intel, then get the prince home. Not take that kid along with us for the joyride.” 

“You’re forgetting that they’ve seen him with us now. He’s associated with us. If we leave him in the dust, there’s gonna be an innocent kid dead in a foreign land, and it’ll be our fault for letting that happen. Do you want that to happen?” 

Your partner sucked at his teeth in thought for a moment, then groaned out. 

“I really fucking hate this babysitting thing.” 

“It’s the three of us and the two of them. The odds are still pretty much in our favor.” 

“It’s still dangerous odds.” Jeongin threw his hands onto his hips, then paced the length of the alley for a small stretch. “As of now, you’re assigned to the prince. Forget about the kid, Two and I will worry about him. The prince is the priority. If shit hits the fan, don’t even think twice, take the prince and get out. Okay? You should never leave his side.” 

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sneaky sense of pride. After all of the chaos and the uncertainty, Jeongin was really coming into his own. 

From the little patio where the others were, it looked as if Chan and Seungmin were getting a long swimmingly. You assumed that it had something to do with shared trauma. Weirdly, Chan had taken to the young man like a bit of a pet. Knowing all that the prince was going through, it made sense...perhaps this also could’ve explained why he had kissed you more than once. Anyone in his position would’ve acted as frantic as such--at least, this was what you had convinced yourself. 

Two sat with the two men wearing thick black sunglasses to hide his gnarly eye wound, sipping espresso. Jeongin started walking back towards the group when you grabbed at his arm. 

“--Wait, I need to talk to you about one more thing?” 

Your partner’s rather gaudy Hawaiian-themed shirt flapped in the breeze. “What’s that?” 

You drew him in closer. “What do you make of Two? He doesn’t strike you as suspicious?” 

“Suspicious? Why?” 

“I-I don’t know...it’s just a feeling that I’m getting. We know next to nothing about him--” 

“--But isn’t that how this goes? We’re not supposed to know things about each other? That’s the point? He’s stuck with us this far...and...” 

A couple passed by the two of you with linked arms, and Jeongin stopped his thought out of distrust of the two of them listening in. 

His voice lowered even further, “If Carroll trusts him, so should we.” The young man nodded, then patted your scratched shoulder. You winced, and he quickly apologized. “It’s...fine that you’re suspicious. Its best for us to be, you know?” 

“Expect the unexpected?” 

Your partner dished out a little eyeroll, “Yeah. Something like that.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It was as if His Royal Highness Prince Chan had never seen the inside of a public airport before. Everything was just so novel to him, and he gasped out at all the little trinkets and tchotchkes. 

As excited as he was, he still tried his best to keep a solid composure under his disguise: a cap, a hoodie, and thick framed sunglasses. The royal didn’t look the most non-descript, but you figured that it was better than nothing. 

The young kid sulked seeing the inside of the airport once more, as he had claimed that he had just left from there. You still didn’t know what to make of him all the way, but at least you could tell that he had a good heart. While in the car he told you and your companions how he had saved up all this money to travel, studied the language and arranged to go to school here too. While all of his plans had been thwarted, at least the kid was still getting to travel...with a price on his head...but still...he was getting to travel. 

Now that Jeongin had been able to contact HQ thanks to the kid’s computer, everything was arranged. Flight tickets, sleeping arrangements, supplies and Bun even knew that you were on your way. You had little desire to see that man considering how you had heard that he was one to live up to his eccentric reputation, but there was little other choice. Jeongin’s words ran through and through your head, “If Carroll trusts him, so should we.” 

Over it all, it was the prince who had worried you most. He was out in the open, and undoubtedly whoever those bastards were with the red crests would be close on your tail. Your neck strained with a pain that only seemed to grow stronger with every corner that you turned to ensure that no one was there. While the handsome prince liked to joke about how his life was on your hands, it was much more serious than that. 

You had seen the fear in his eyes that night--it was so tangible that you could practically hold in your hands. He was a man terrified of death, and he knew that he had little control over it. You had control over it, but you knew that you could only stretch yourself so far. 

Your group of five neared your gate in the international terminal lined with several dozen different kinds of multi-colored flags. You situated yourself between Two and the Prince on one of the thin teal chairs with flattened cushions. Chan tapped his hands on this knees impatiently as he inspected the place. 

“Kind of exciting isn’t it?” He said with a tiny grin. 

“What?” You moved to look at him with his obscured features. “Exciting?” 

“Yeah, you know, travelling together. It kind of feels like an adventure. I mean, they’ve got a gun to our heads, but at least we’re together right?” 

You scoffed, simply amused at how he had taken the severity out of the situation. It was clear that this prince knew little about the concept of perspective. 

“I’m not following.” 

“I get that...we need to be careful, but who said that we can’t, say, enjoy the journey?” 

“You’re saying that you want us to have fun while we’re running for our lives?” 

The prince smiled. “You know that I like having fun. That and...I’m just trying to be optimistic.” Under his cap, he slicked his brown strands back. “The three of you seem to be so tense all the time. Obviously, that can’t be good for your health--” 

You cracked out with laughter. “You’re being ludicrous, Your Highness. We have to be on high alert at all times--” 

“I said, that you could call me Chan, remember?” He rather languidly spread out his legs in his seat, removing his glasses for moment. “How about, when we go to Egypt, I take you out somewhere nice to eat? We can relax, talk, get to know eachother more--” 

You raised your hand up to silence him. “--If this is just a ploy to get me alone, I politely rescind the offer. Here I was thinking that you were concerned about all three of us...” 

“--I am!” Chan quickly piped, “I-I’ll take you all out for dinner! But...but...you’ll have to allow me to take you out for drink then. Just the two of us. I still hold to my word of wanting to get to know you.” 

The prince’s face was puffed and bloated, and scraped with little pink and red cuts, but nothing stopped him from pulling out his signature charming and persuasive grin. 

“Try to kiss me again, and I won’t hesitate. You might be royalty but I don’t ca--” 

“--Hmmm no promises.” Chan then cut in, his grin turned even more indulgent while you watched him inspect your frame in that god-awful scratchy blouse. 

Next to you, Two let out a particularly amused sounding scoff of a laugh. 

“Forward as ever, Your Highness.” Jeongin deadpanned, then buried his nose in his coffee and newspaper once again. He hadn’t gotten to finish doing so earlier. 

Seungmin, the young student stifled his own laughter which then gradually got louder and louder. “I can’t fucking believe this. Me. Kim Seungmin, the most normal-ass person in the whole world with you four: a fucking prince, secret agents...and now we’re going to Egypt??? Egypt???” 

“Why does that sound like the set up to a shitty joke?” Two popped a bubble he had blown with the gum from the convenience store. Turns out he actually had a bit of a “gum habit” as he called it. 

“Settle down kid.” Jeongin said without his eyes leaving his paper. “You’ll make a scene.” 

The prince yawned, sliding his sunglasses back on. 

“I never really did end up getting as much sleep as I would’ve liked.” If you could’ve seen his eyes, you would’ve then seen him eye your shoulder. “May I?” he politely asked. 

Rather than giving him an answer, you rolled your head around as if to say do I need to? 

Chan let out a happy little hum after resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling in slightly. 

You met your partner’s side eye, and he repeated for you, I really fucking hate this babysitting thing. 

“Thank you Bee.” Chan softly muttered, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I really do owe you everything.” He was careful at first, but he reached out his hand to rest it atop of yours. While the action made you twitch at first, you remembered how the same action had calmed him in the van when you had escaped the gala. 

You told yourself that you were just being nice. 

The young kid pulled out a journal from his backpack and started scribbling something, Two popped a bubble, snapping it on his unnaturally white teeth, and Jeongin sipped at his coffee. 

This really was the set up to a shitty joke. 

A woman cleared her throat over the intercom and announced, Flight C1180 to Cairo will be boarding in one hour. Thank you for flying with us today. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[peaches-writes]

how to appease your asian aunties ch. 1 - christmas

description: in the immortal words of wine aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at gatherings, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ member: jisung / han genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns) word count: 7.5k chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language, one comment about weight note: insp by a twt meme + this is my first attempt at making a story with parents having a bigger role in them omg

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

Though you’re a semester away from graduating college, with your own circles of friends, clubmates, and close classmates, you still can’t understand why your mom and her sorority batchmates feel the need to have reunion parties every single year. Maybe it’s the product of growing connectivity in this modern age or just simply your wide age gap preventing you from having the same nostalgic feelings attending these dinners; nevertheless, ever since your mom started bringing you to these parties to socialize with her friends’ children when you were four, you've always personally found it a bit troublesome. 

They see each other at mall sales, weekend brunches, weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries all the time—a lot of them even work closely with each other. For as long as you can remember, you can’t help but endlessly wonder in this time of year: will they ever get tired of each other?

As you adjust your coat over your semi-formal attire for this year’s dinner party, you sigh in front of the full-length mirror by your house’s front doors and mentally conclude that they probably never will. This is your 19th reunion dinner now and even from meters away in the kitchen, you can hear your mom fuss to your dad and the helpers either worriedly about the desserts that everyone in the house (and your nearest restaurant branch) was forced to bake two nights ago; or excitedly about seeing her college best friend, Mrs. Hwang, even if they literally just dragged their respective families to the monthly brunch last weekend—like she always does minutes before you leave. She always sounds like a crazed woman but you know deep inside that she’s excited to see her friends again and reminisce about the same old college memories you’ve even memorized by heart now.

It’s cute and all, maybe you’ll even end up the same in a decade or so but you swear at present on the dinner menu tonight that the more you spend your first day of Christmas break attending these dinners, the more you’ll slowly lose your mind over this unofficial holiday tradition: from your mom’s dramatic ramblings at the start of the night to the prospect of spending the rest of the evening laughing off your unofficial aunts and godmothers’ unnecessary backhanded comments and trying not to get caught in the trouble the younger children make.

It really just isn’t exactly your type of scene. It’s like family Christmas parties but with more passive-aggressive internalized drama since you’re not related to any of the guests by blood.

“Y/N, dear, come along now, we’re running late!” Your mom scolds you as she approaches your direction to the double doors, carrying cupcake caddies and cake boxes with your dad and your six house helpers. She’s wearing the dress you helped pick out last month, you observe, which is another tradition of hers. Rich people and not wanting to be seen wearing the same clothes twice, you guess. “Oh dear, I need to fix my hair in the car!”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before sprinting to the doors and helping your dad open them. You also take a couple of boxes from one of the helpers as you all pile outside, letting everyone pass through before closing the doors behind you. 

The nine of you then head to your dad’s Ford you parked outside the house gates earlier this afternoon, loading the everything in the back of the car without much difficulty before parting ways with the helpers for tonight with the same house instructions from your mom to not wait up for the three of you.

“Bye!” Your mom waves at your helpers through the rolled down windows on the front passenger seat as your dad begins to drive away from the house. 

Once your house begins growing smaller in the distance behind you, only then does your mom attend to her hair while your dad closes all the windows and locks the doors.

You, on the other hand, lean back in your own seat, taking out your phone to pass the ten minutes travel time to one of your godmothers, Mrs. Kim’s house in the adjacent subdivision.

“Y/M/N! Y/F/N! Welcome!” Mrs. Kim greets you at her house gates with her own mini army of house helpers, kindly helping you and your parents unload your party contributions and transfer them inside her recently renovated kitchen. “Oh, Y/N! Look at you, you look so beautiful tonight!”

You smile politely through the wave of compliments and ‘oh you gained a bit of weight’ comments that follow as you try your best to not to trip over the slippery marble steps leading to the house. Contrary to what your mom has been worrying about earlier at home, you eventually discover that you’re fairly early to the party for the 19th year in a row with only half of the families already in attendance to greet you when you entered the house.

“Y/N, all the teenagers are upstairs on the second floor, by the way.” Mrs. Kim informs you once your cupcakes have been neatly organized in the caddies at the very end of the buffet table, making you cringe internally at her preferred term for you and the other older kids in the house. “Dinner is at 7:30.”

“Thank you, auntie.” You smile one last time at her before excusing yourself to go upstairs, sighing internally in relief that her son, Seungmin, has smartly gathered everyone upstairs for the third year in a row to avoid the aunts and uncles for as much as possible.

You’re not completely fond of the parties, sure, but you can’t deny that there are little parts that have unconsciously grown on you—like your unlikely band of childhood friends and your shared hatred for this particular party.

Climbing up the slippery staircase as fast as you can with a death grip on the railings, you reach the second floor in no time to be greeted by six out of the eight people you’ve sort of grown up with in these parties occupying the common area: Felix and Hyunjin having a Wii dance battle in front of the television, Seungmin and Minho having a violent game of UNO on the coffee table, and Ryujin and Yeji scrolling through their phones on the sofa before abandoning them to approach you at noticing your presence by the staircase.

“Y/N!” Ryujin calls you in as she reaches you first for a brief hug and a short exchange of compliments on each other’s outfits, as if you didn’t just meet at one of your shared class’ Christmas parties yesterday. Though all of you attend the same university, you see Ryujin the most since you’re in the same college, just in different departments. “So nice to see you again!”

“Yeah, yeah, hello to you too again.” You chuckle, more genuinely now in the company of party guests you’re actually comfortable with, before waving hello at Yeji who trails behind. 

Yeji then naturally hugs you next, pulling you a few steps away from the staircase so the two of you don’t topple over when she leans her weight on you. “Y/N, took you long enough!” She says next to your ear. “Hyunjin and I were starting to make bets if the aunties suddenly trapped you downstairs like Chan and Miyoung.”

You hug her back with equal force, a little more than you did with Ryujin, pulling away after to playfully slap her arm for the teasing comment. “I’d sell my arm first before I let that happen.” You retort as the two of you laugh. “I just helped set up desserts—mom made us do an extra two boxes of brownies and cookies this year so you better get a lot later!” 

“Of course, but only if you eat a lot of the spaghetti my mom made!” She reminds, kindly fixing your hair for you. “I missed you! You look so pretty tonight!”

Behind the two girls, the boys also greet you in scattered casual ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s before going back to their own activities. You greet them back as they acknowledge you (and even reciprocate Felix’s long-distance high five mid-dance), crossing off everyone’s names in your mental attendance list as your gaze wanders around the room.

Since Chan is busy being a grown-up and showing off his fiance downstairs, you conclude that only one person is missing among your eight friends.

“Ya, Han Jisung!” As if on cue, the missing eighth person in your list emerges from the staircase behind you as Minho calls his name. “Welcome back!” 

Jisung greets everyone back in their second wave of scattered greetings as he walks to Minho and Seungmin’s direction, purposely acknowledging you last by suddenly turning around and walking backwards to send a wave and wink your way. He almost trips over the long ruffles of the big accent carpet as he does this, making you, Yeji, and Ryujin laugh as the only witnesses.

“Oh my God.” You place a hand to your forehead in secondhand embarrassment, stifling your laughs as your best friend regains his balance and looks behind him in case anyone else saw (which, unfortunately for you, they didn’t). You can’t believe that despite missing last year’s party because of his study abroad program’s strict schedule, he still manages to do his ritual clumsy carpet accident somehow. “This dumbass, I swear.”

In front of you, Jisung only laughs it off as well. “You didn’t see that!” He adjusts his coat with one hand and scratches the nape of his neck with the other in between laughs, walking forward to you properly after with his arms extended for a hug. “Stop laughing and come here, ugly. I missed you.” 

You feign a scowl but hug him back anyway, Yeji and Ryujin slyly stepping away with knowing smiles that only you can see with Jisung’s eyes turned away. You stick your tongue out at the two girls as they abandon you and walk back to the sofa before slapping Jisung’s back harshly for the familiar insult. “Speak for yourself, you ugly. I missed you too.” You reply to his latter comment with an amused chuckle of your own. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m seeing you in person again.” He pulls away after with his signature flirty smirk, visibly eyeing you up and down now while his hands are still on your upper arms. Though he knows such gesture irks you, especially when it comes to the aunts and uncles downstairs, Jisung is the only one among your friends confident enough to tease you this way. Knowing each other a bit longer than everyone else has its perks, he’s come to realize over the years. “Look at you, all dressed up tonight. For me?” 

“Of course I’m all dressed up tonight, it’s Chan’s engagement announcement later.” You retort, swatting his hand away to adjust your now wrinkled clothes. “You’ve known me for twenty years, already; I think it’s time to stop assuming I’ll ever dress up for you now.” 

He only shakes his head, his teasing and lighthearted mood unwavering in front of you. “Nah, I really think you dressed up for me tonight.” He insists jokingly, a hand lingering over the fabric of your coat. “If I get welcome back parties like this from you in the end, should I just do more one-year study abroad programs?” 

“And leave me to fend off the aunties every other year? I don’t think so.” You’re quick to turn down, walking pass him to rejoin your group now. Jisung naturally follows along like a lost puppy, suddenly changing his mind on joining Minho and Seungmin to follow you around now that you’ve started conversation. “You owe me for leaving me to take all the ‘I can set you up on a blind date with my godchild’ and ‘are you dating anyone’ comments last year.”

The two of you sit next to Ryujin and Yeji who, without even looking up from their phones, quickly scoot away to the other end of the big sofa which makes you send pleading looks their way while Jisung laughs and gains enough confidence to sling an arm on the sofa behind your shoulders.

Another annoying thing from this yearly reunion party is how it’s an unspoken rule in your group to leave you and Jisung alone whenever you’re engaging in your usual banter. You and Jisung are the enemies type of best friend, for God’s sake. You don’t understand how everyone (yes, even Seungmin) thinks the two of you are being cute. 

“I keep telling you, you wouldn’t get all those comments if you just tell them you’re dating someone, dummy.” Jisung returns to your conversation once you’re settled, purposely placing a suggestive emphasis on the pet name. “That’s just the most natural thing to do in front of the aunties.” 

“And who would I show them if they ask who?”

“Try me.” Jisung answers smugly, earning him an eye roll from you.

“As if.” You deadpan, leaning to his arm anyway as you take out your phone and connect to the wifi. “Given your new fuckboy look to the aunties, I’m pretty sure they’ll see past that kind of bullshit, especially Yeji and Hyunjin’s mom and Minho’s mom. They’d be more convinced if I tell them I’m dating Seungmin instead and he’s already in a relationship.”

You don’t even have to look to your side to see Jisung pouting as he whines in complaint, his free hand going up to your side to shake your arm. “That hurts.” He dramatically points to his chest when you show the slightest hint of turning his way. “And having Bumble on your phone isn’t being a fuckboy, I don’t even use it to get dates.” 

“That’s not what the aunties think.” You point out, knowing just how much your aunts and uncles easily misunderstand concepts from your generation like social and dating apps. “I’m telling you, I prefer you swaying the conversation for me over you pretending to be my boyfriend.”

Jisung is quiet for a moment and you’re convinced that he’s decided on ending the conversation at this point until he suddenly twists his body towards you and challenges, "Do you wanna bet? Test out that theory?” He smirks again. “It’d really spice up this party, besides Chan’s announcement, of course.”

Only then do you look up at him since you sat down, deadpanning, “No.” 

“Come on, it’d be really interesting!” He taps you on your shoulders with a laugh, a combination of habits he always does whenever he’s trying to involve you in his usual trouble-making antics. “My mom will finally get off my back for always nagging me as a ‘fuckboy’ and our mom’s sorority friends will finally get off yours for not dating.” 

“You’re crazy.” You comment, crossing your arms in front of him. “I think I’ll just re-download Bumble too and bring someone to the party next year.” 

“You’re really taking too much jabs at my heart right now,” He sighs with a contrasting smirk. “and we’re not even past dinner yet.” 

“Because you deserve it,” You chuckle back at him, pretending to punch him on his stomach which he reacts to dramatically. “I’ve always known you’re a dumbass but that’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard from you.” 

Stubborn, he shakes his head in disagreement as you speak. “Nah, nah, we’ll see about that.”

And as if on cue, Mrs. Kim emerges from the staircase and announces that dinner is ready, luring everyone out of the second floor before you can even ask Jisung what he means with his words. 

“Ya, Han Jisung!” You call for him when he sprints to Seungmin’s side when the latter begins leading everyone downstairs. 

You try catching up to him but the staircase becomes too narrow for you to squeeze past everyone, forcing you to walk with Minho and Ryujin at the back of the group. With this, Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to look up at you from the turn on the staircase and send you another wink, a more confident one this time since he doesn’t trip after. 

Your ‘age group,’ as the aunts differentiate you from the younger children, hogs the extensive buffet and steals the best table in the backyard, near the karaoke machine so you can stop the uncles from singing too much of ‘My Way’ once they get drunk later on and as far away from the children’s table as possible so you don’t have to be obligated to take care of them later on. Chan, the eldest among you now, joins your table with his fiance, Miyoung, after they’ve officially declared their engagement before the buffet opened, happily handing out their save the date cards for their May wedding.

“Just remember, Miyoung, that you can literally get all your wedding needs from us, okay?” Yeji comments amidst all the talk about the wedding, gesturing to everyone as you eat and drink champagne. “Like Y/N and Seungmin for catering, Ryujin for the attires, Felix for your honeymoon trip, me and Hyunjin for the flowers and documentation, and Jisung can dress up as a clown for your reception.” 

“Ya!” Jisung protests to your left, cheeks full of steak and spaghetti that makes the whole table erupt in laughter. “Chan’s and Minho’s studios can arrange the music and the decor; my mom will probably argue with Miyoung’s mom for the locations and hotels.” 

“I can just tell my dad to hire you as a clown, though.” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, further fueling your laughter. To your right, you can even see Miyoung giggling through her glass of champagne, having given up on stifling her laughs. “It’d make good entertainment.” 

Jisung then leans over to you to turn to Miyoung on your other side with a pout and a pleading look to her and Chan. “You two are just letting them drag me like this?” He whines dramatically before turning to you. “Y/N, back me up here.”

“No!” You press a finger up to his forehead and playfully push him back on his seat. “It’s a great idea, what are you talking about?” You tease as you do so, much to more whines from him. “There’s like five months before the wedding, think about it.”

Next to you, Miyoung forces herself to stop laughing, teasingly asking Chan, “Babe, what do you think? Should we just demote Jisung from groomsman to clown?” 

“I’d very much prefer being a groomsman, please.” Jisung asks over Chan, leaning over the table. “I can’t compete with Changbin for best man but as long as I’m not dressing up as a clown I’m good!” 

“Hey, how come Jisung’s a groomsman?” Seungmin complains from across you, frowning cutely at the couple. “Miyoung, I’m your cousin! I introduced you and Chan in university!” 

“You’re a groomsman too, Minnie, don’t worry.” Miyoung reassures with a warm smile before elbowing her fiance. “As long as you can get your parents to cater with Y/N’s family.” 

The offer makes Seungmin’s ear perk up in interest. “Okay, call!” 

“Can we all be in the wedding party at this point? I’m seriously pushing it now, I want to dress up really cute!” Yeji, who sits on Chan’s other side, pleads. 

“Me too! I second that!” Felix backs her up immediately, the two now leaning over the table expectantly in Chan’s direction. “Though I’m not so keen on designing things.”

“Ah, but we have to make more room for actual relatives.” The groom-to-be in question laughs sheepishly. “Though, knowing our parents, I’ll try to squeeze everyone in somewhere in the program. Just let us iron out everyone’s contributions first.” 

“Yeji, I’ll take note of your suggestion, though.” Miyoung points at the younger girl with an appreciative grin. “I’ll message the groupchat once Chan and I meet up again with the planner.” 

Meanwhile, Chan’s last comment gives you and Minho an idea and the two of you suggest in chorus, “Get Seungmin to sing!” 

“Jinx!” You and Minho exchange winks and long distance-high fives from Jisung’s two sides after while Chan and Miyoung ask Seungmin about said idea, making Jisung pout at you. 

The general table conversation then naturally flows to other matters, mostly about the famous names you might be expecting at the wedding, but Jisung doesn’t participate much anymore, turning to you instead and asking, “Ya, are you cheating on me with Minho now? You sacrifice me as entertainment then back Minho up but not me!” He rambles in between mouthfuls of food, making you and even Minho chuckle in amusement despite the latter being in another conversation with Ryujin and Seungmin. “I just left for one year and you’re already doing this to me!” 

“What are you on about again, dumbass?” You roll your eyes with a scoff, stealing a piece of steak from his plate for the third time this dinner. “Finish your food, everyone’s done and you’re so slow!” 

Jisung then belatedly swats your chopsticks away, “I’m almost done, dumbass, stop mooching off my plate!” 

"Then hurry up, you still have to accompany me to the dessert table.” You point out, referring to your least favorite part of this reunion parties: getting attacked by invasive questions on your return trip to the buffet table. “Remember, you owe me. I’m not going in there alone again.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He replies on his last two bites of food, eating one then handing the other one to you. “Have the other one, then.” 

He pokes your lips with the last piece of steak and you instinctively lean your head away, catching the food with your own chopsticks instead. “Thanks.” You bring the food to your mouth before carefully patting the oil he ended up smearing on your lips with your table napkin. 

Across the table and out of your earshot, Yeji elbows Hyunjin and points to the two of you. “They’re at it again.” 

Without you or Jisung looking, Hyunjin looks at the two of you in feign disgust. “I know, every damn year.” 

On Hyunjin’s other side, Seungmin nods frustratingly in agreement which makes Yeji laugh. “We shouldn’t have taken last year for granted, 'no?” He sighs. “Last year was so peaceful without them together.”

“Agreed.” The Hwang cousins agree in chorus before listening to the table’s general conversation again.

Meanwhile, Jisung finally finishes his food and excuses the two of you from the table to get dessert. Miyoung waves at you politely and Felix playfully orders that you two get him cupcakes but the rest only acknowledge you with simple nods as they’re completely engrossed in betting on whose dad will be singing My Way on the karaoke machine first (everyone’s in the middle of betting on Mr. Bang). With that, you and your best friend then take your leave, going back inside the house and making a beeline to the kitchen.

Unfortunately for you, you catch your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang gossiping by the punch bowls once you reach the kitchen’s open doorway—literally the worst combination of sorority aunts to be bombarded with invasive questions.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath loud enough for only Jisung to hear, the two of you still out of the three women’s sights. Looking up at Jisung with pleading eyes, you ask, “Should we just go back later?” 

Quickly seeing this as an opportunity to get back at you, Jisung only smiles evilly and links his hands with yours, dragging a hesitant you inside the kitchen and towards the direction of the dessert table. “No, let’s get dessert now, baby.” He dismisses your silent pleas teasingly, making sure his voice is loud enough to get your worst nightmare of trio’s attentions. “Felix also asked us to get cupcakes too, remember?”

And like vultures, the three women immediately turn to you and Jisung as you head in their line of vision, three different shades of questioning looks on their faces. You especially catch your mom’s face, a mixture of surprise, amusement, and genuine curiosity for some reason, which sets all the gears in your head into panic mode while Jisung only gains more confidence from this. 

You swear at that moment on Jisung’s sort of untied shoelaces that you just want Mrs. Kim’s new kitchen floor tiles to swallow you up right there and then.

“Hey, mom!” Jisung greets his own mom with a wave, coming off as sweet to her but mocking to you. He then bows politely to your mom and Mrs. Hwang and you’re forced to follow along for the sake of courtesy. “Mrs. Y/L/N, Mrs. Hwang.” 

The three women look at each other curiously, as if in a silent debate on what they’ve just heard, while Jisung pretends to be unfazed, passing you a dessert plate and examining tonight’s dessert options. 

“Jisung, I swear to God,” You hiss at him as you take a slice of chocolate cake for him. “I’m going to kill you after this party.” 

He leans close to your ear while gathering cupcakes on a separate dessert plate, whispering, “I think it’s too late for that, though.” before your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang suddenly appear in front of the two of you on the other side of the buffet table with sickeningly sweet smiles, and a million questions. 

You especially fear Jisung’s mom. Mrs. Han and your mom often go to the mall together, especially when there’s an ongoing sale, and you’ve been forced to carry all their shopping bags over the years because Jisung and his older brother usually bail on you. Though she’s very sweet, you’ve always known her to be very picky on some things and it just makes you think that she’s picky on who Jisung dates too. 

“Mom,” You call for your mom with wide eyes. “Do you need anything?” 

But she waves her hand dismissively with a reassuring smile at your question. “Oh, nothing, Y/N dear,” She answers, eyes darting almost threateningly between you and Jisung. It makes your hand shaky as you now complete your tower of dessert plates. “your aunties and I were just talking and we didn’t mean to but we saw you and Jisung so we just got curious and thought we’d ask how the two of you are.” 

“Oh, just ask them already!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims excitedly, slapping your mom’s arm like a school girl. “If you won’t, I will.”

But Mrs. Han is already leaning over the table with a knowing smile, straightforwardly asking, “Are you two kids dating?” which immediately makes your mom and Mrs. Hwang erupt into fits of giggles. “Come on, the aunties want to know!” 

“Oh, um—” You stammer out before Jisung beats you to it. 

For the second time tonight, you feel Jisung’s arm on your shoulder as he speaks over you confidently, “Y-Yeah, we’ve been for a while now!” He then places his dessert plate back on the table and boyishly rubs the nape of his neck which only elicits swooning reactions from the three women, a complete contrast from your expectations a while back. “Just some time before my program ended so it’s been a bit long-distance for the most part.” 

“Oh? But how?” Mrs. Hwang asks curiously. “I didn’t hear of you going to Malaysia this year, Y/N, and Jisung, your mom told me you didn’t have time to go home!”

“You could’ve just told me, Sungie! Then, I would’ve had you sent home earlier if you wanted to see Y/N!” Mrs. Han adds as well, clasping her hands in satisfaction. “I knew this was coming! You two have always been so cute together!” 

Your mom agrees, “Luckily, I refused Mrs. Park’s offer to set Y/N up with another one of her nephews a while back. Had I known you two were dating, I wouldn’t have talked to her tonight at all!”

You open your mouth to try and speak but Jisung beats you to it again. “We’ve been in touch: message, calls, and video calls, you know.” He half-shrugs casually, as if he’s been rehearsing the line for a while now. “It’s our first time meeting since we started seeing each other so telling you guys just kind of flew past us.” 

You groan internally but you also can’t help but sigh in relief at the prospect that you avoided getting set up by Mrs. Park again because of Jisung. Though this doesn’t completely erase your annoyance over him for putting you in this situation, you still owe him a ‘thank you’ after somehow.

So, you conclude that you should just follow along. It’s fake dating your best friend over another pointless blind date at this point now, after all. “You’re okay with this, right?” You decide to ask in a follow-up, pretending to not know that they’ll agree anyway. Next to you, Jisung’s eyes visibly widen and, seeing it from the corner of your eyes, you quickly elbow him in response before giving your most innocent look to your mom. “I mean, Jisung won’t be studying abroad now and we’re graduating, anyway, so it’s cool, right?”

Judging by their softened reactions, you feel like you could challenge Hyunjin to acting now. 

“Of course we’re okay with it!” Your mom answers first, Mrs. Han nodding along happily. “I’m glad that it’s someone I know at least and I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.” 

You hear Jisung gulp nervously at the last comment. If you’re afraid of his mom, he’s afraid of your dad because of the one time he helped you practice for your driver’s license and the two of you almost ended up crashing the Ford on your subdivision’s club house. You allow yourself to relax and laugh at this, making him tighten his grip on your shoulder. 

“Me too, sis.” Mrs. Han agrees, gesturing over to her son. “My Jisung here’s been going on dates with strangers online before this so I’m glad he’s finally stopped and settled for your kid! Modern love, huh?” 

“Oh my God, mom!” Jisung whines, his free hand coming up to his face in embarrassment. “I’ve told you before, I use them to meet friends! Not in front of Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N please!” 

“Ay, it’s the same thing!” His mom insists to him before turning to Mrs. Hwang and your mom. “Social apps, dating apps, they’re all the same. Why do you even use them if you’re just going to fall in love with the person right in front of you? I taught you better than that, Sungie.” 

“Mom!” Jisung hisses, cheeks tinted pink. “This is so embarrassing!” 

You snicker next to him, catching his attention. “Your mom’s right, you know. Tsk, dating people from miles away and you just end up confessing to me on FaceTime.” 

He scowls at you in a way that scolds you for suddenly turning this situation in your favor. You only smile triumphantly at him which the three aunties take as a really sweet moment. 

“Aw, look at them! So cute!” Mrs. Hwang gushes before turning to her two best friends. “Should we just leave them alone now? We’re intruding!” 

“Right! It’s especially embarrassing since we’re both here, Mrs. Han.” Your mom agrees, leading the three out now. She then turns to you and Jisung, “I guess we’ll be off now, then? Don’t want to intrude to you two lovebirds anymore!” 

You smile up to your mom, making sure Jisung does too. “It’s fine, mom, we’re going back to our table now too, anyway.”

But Mrs. Han waves her hand dismissively at you. “No, no, we’ll run along now first! See you later, okay?” 

You and Jisung bid your moms and Mrs. Hwang goodbye, overhearing your mom bragging that she’ll share this new information to Mrs. Park while Mrs. Han and Mrs. Hwang agree before the three completely exited the kitchen. 

Once they’re out of earshot, you sigh in relief and elbow Jisung harshly who responds by dramatically taking a step back and massaging his side. “Ow!” He winces, careful not to hit the dessert table. “What was that for?” 

“I told you to drop the fake dating thing a while back.” You protest, threatening to hit him with your plate of chocolate slices. “Now I have to have you at home more often. I’ve already had enough of you at campus, here, and when your mom visits at home.”

“Ya, but you played along!” 

“That’s because I was put on the spot! And they did mention another blind date from Mrs. Park’s army of nephews.” You explain. “It was between you and another blind date.”

“At least I got you out of another potential blind date, right?” He points out defensively, proceeding to put your hand with the chocolate slices down on the table with caution. “And more effectively now than before, too! So why’d you hit me?”

“Yeah, I know but still, that doesn’t cancel out how you got me out of that.” You frown in disappointment, taking both of your dessert plates now. When he holds his hand up defensively, as if expecting you to throw them to his face, you only roll your eyes and walk past him to the direction of the second kitchen exit. “Now, I have to fake date you for real either until Mrs. Park lays off the blind dates or until I actually date someone.” 

Jisung immediately follows you suit, genuinely rubbing the nape of his neck in a bashful way now. “We don’t have to, maybe they’ll forget about it.” But when you give him a pointed look, as if suggesting that what he just said seems unlikely, he ends up suggesting, “Okay, fine, should we break up after Chan’s wedding, then?”

He then glances over at you to see you contemplating and calming yourself down so he instinctively insists on carrying the dessert plates for you, walking a little bit ahead as well and opening the screen door leading back to the backyard. 

When you’ve made yourself calm down and think more rationally, you firstly point out, “That’s too far away and wouldn’t that be too scandalous? It’s a big event so it could become gossip.” 

Passing the entire length of the backyard now, you receive a few congratulations and questions confirming your relationship from some of your mom’s sorority friends and their husbands, forcing Jisung to hold his thought until you’re not being swarmed again. 

“But if we do it before, it’d be too suspicious since we’d only be dating for less than 6 months.” He counters once the adults have left you alone, glancing ahead and seeing your entire table looking at you with quirked up eyebrows and comically intimidating looks. “Remember when my older brother did that as a joke to the aunties and got caught because they only did it for 3 weeks? They smell fear and deceit, Y/N.”

You sigh in defeat, “Let’s just figure it out later.” With that, you reach your table, setting your plates down and asking, “What did we miss?”

Judging by the way they eye you, your mom has probably told Mrs. Kim who’s gone table to table. 

“It’s fake, isn’t it?” Ryujin speaks up once you’ve settled back in your seat, making the table break character and laugh. “It can’t be a coincidence since you two were just talking about that a while ago inside!” 

“Please be fake.” Seungmin adds, gesturing to you and Jisung. “It’d be more annoying for all of us next year if it’s true.” 

You and Jisung, having the same thought and trust for your friends, nod simultaneously at Ryujin’s question, eventually joining in on the laughter. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’d actually try that!” Ryujin cackles, a clear giveaway that she and Yeji were eavesdropping on you and Jisung a while back to a degree.

“To be clear, though, it’s his fault!” You add in between laughs for clarification, pointing to Jisung with your dessert spoon. “He started it!” 

“And they were about to get set up on a blind date by Mrs. Park again.” Jisung gestures to you back, completing the thought. “I was being a good Samaritan.”

“Ooh, and what did they say?” Felix asks curiously, one elbow propped up on the table as he listens intently. 

Jisung groans in exasperation as he eats his chocolate cake. “We bumped into my mom, Y/N’s mom, and Mrs. Hwang so you can imagine how they reacted.” 

“I can imagine, especially our mom.” Hyunjin sighs with his hands carding through his hair in secondhand embarrassment. 

“At least now we know where you inherited certain qualities from.” Chan teases, making the younger boy exclaim ‘ya!’ at him. 

“This is good, though isn’t it?” Yeji asks curiously over her iced tea. “I mean, Mrs. Park’s wouldn’t set you up on blind dates now.”

“Yeah, but that leaves me as Ms. Park’s only target!” Ryujin moans in frustration. “You know Mrs. Park doesn’t get convinced with dating people online!” 

You shake your head at Ryujin’s complaint. “Yeji can fake date you, though.” You point out, much to the girl’s annoyance. “Or ask out that girl from our lab.”

“So, does this mean we’re getting a dramatic break-up at Chan and Miyoung’s wedding?” Hyunjin interjects, having moved from playing with his now long hair to his glass of champagne. “Because if so, then you better tell us now so we won’t get too drunk at the reception until it happens!”

“I honestly want to see that happen too.” Seungmin agrees, the two high-fiving at the thought.

“That’d be interesting, breaking up at weddings.” Minho chuckles along now too. “People usually propose or hook-up so this is new.” 

“Hey, no stealing my spotlight on my wedding!” Miyoung complains playfully to you and Jisung this time. “We’re all supposed to have a good time there!”

Chan nods in agreement. “If you break up at our wedding, you’re getting kicked out.” 

So you shake your head reassuringly in between eating cupcakes. “We aren’t planning to.” 

“You’re going to date for real?” Felix asks teasingly, earning him a glare form you.

“Gross, no.” You and Jisung turn down the thought in chorus.

“Jinx.” Jisung adds, stealing a spoonful of cake from your plate.

“So when are you breaking up?” Chan asks, leading the whole round table to look back to you. 

“Whenever, I guess.” You shrug casually, belatedly swatting Jisung’s hand from your plate this time. “Until Mrs. Park gets off my back and Jisung actually stops fucking around on Bumble.” 

“I don’t fuck around on Bumble!” Jisung complains over a mouthful of chocolate cake.

“Well, that’s going to take a long time.” Chan dismisses. “At least let us all know so we can schedule faking a whole drama in this group.” 

“Anyway, it’ll die down soon, surely.” Jisung assures with a half-shrug. “Also, our parents only meet up constantly during this reunion party. If anything, we just have to fake date in front of our moms since they meet up more often.” 

“And Mrs. Hwang.” You point to Hyunjin and Yeji. “Since we all go to brunch once a month.” 

At the mention of the monthly brunch, Yeji’s eyes widen. “Does that mean Jisung has to be at our monthly brunch?!” 

“Oh, ew!” Hyunjin adds in disgust. “I’ve had enough seeing you at campus already!” 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Jisung exclaims back in complain. “I doubt I’d get invited to that, we’re supposed to be dating not getting married!” 

Jisung turns to you expectantly, sighing in relief when you say, “That seems unlikely, it’s my mom and Mrs. Hwang’s thing, anyway. It’s not the Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner brunch.” 

“It better be!” Hyunjin says with crossed arms. “Hopefully our moms don’t get that kind of idea.”

You quietly agree. Having Jisung on your monthly brunch with the Hwangs would just cause so much trouble and cement him in your mom’s good graces—but as your boyfriend, this time.

That’s probably not good. 

The party officially ends some time around 3 AM, when most of the parents with elementary school children have gone home hours earlier and, besides the Kims, it’s just your family, the Hwangs, the Hans, Chan, and Miyoung left at the front gates, bidding each other goodnight.  

“Thank you for having us again, Mrs. Kim.” You bid Seungmin’s family last since they’re the hosts, bowing politely to Seungmin’s parents before giving Seungmin a high-five. 

“See you after break.” Seungmin greets you after your high-five. “Have fun in Japan.” 

“And you enjoy your trip to New York.” You reply with an enthusiastic smile. “I do hope your mom reconsiders staying longer so you can spend the New Year there.” 

He nods with a sigh, “Yeah, I know. Still, I’ll try my best to convince her.” 

Your mom then approaches the two of you, bidding Seungmin and his parents goodnight before taking you away by the arm then turning you towards the direction of Jisung and his family. “Goodnight, Seungmin, Mr. and Mrs. Kim!” She smiles warmly to them before turning to you. “Y/N, aren’t you going to say goodnight to Jisung?” 

“I already did.” 

“Ah, but go to him anyway! Your dad still has to start the car.” 

You groan internally. After a whole night of drinking, singing, and gossiping with her friends, you’d think that she would’ve forgotten about earlier. 

Yet you oblige anyway, excusing yourself from your parents and approaching Jisung whose parents are busy having last-minute small talk with Chan and Miyoung, probably endorsing their chain of hotels as early as now for the wedding. 

“Hey, ugly.” You greet him casually as you approach, both your parents out of earshot so the old nickname naturally comes out. At this, Jisung immediately turns from scrolling through his phone to looking up at you with wide eyes. “My mom didn’t see us say goodnight a while ago so I’m here.” 

“Oh,” He muses, eyes flitting to your mom behind you once. When he sees her glancing expectantly, he turns to you and suggests, “Should we hug?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You sigh, going straight into his extended arms. “‘Night.” 

“’Night, baby.” Jisung hums gently, too sleepy now to throw more witty comebacks besides the cheesy pet name that originally got you in trouble tonight. “See you after the break.” 

“No, see you on our moms’ next shopping spree.” You correct firmly, pulling away from his warmth before you could accidentally fall asleep on him. “Since we’re ‘dating’ now, you’re morally obligated to attend shopping bag duty now, too.” 

This makes Jisung sigh in defeat, “Fine, fair enough. See you on our moms’ next shopping spree, then.” He pauses for a moment then asks, “The day after New Year, right?”  

“Yeah.” You confirm with a nod when you catch him pouting, “You started this so don’t pout now.” 

“I know, I’m regretting it now.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff, only making you chuckle. “I suppose it’s different when we hang out as friends and when our moms think we’re dating.”

You continue laughing anyway until a thought crosses your mind and softens your gaze up at Jisung. “Anyway, thanks for saving me from another date—I almost forgot. The means is still annoying but I have to appreciate it somehow, right?” 

This time, it’s him chuckling, “Now you appreciate my efforts. See, I told you, something good comes up with this.” 

“Whatever.” You dismiss before you hear your mom calling for you as your dad pulls up in front of the Kim’s gates. “Okay, that’s me. Bye, ugly!” 

“Hm, bye!” With a final wave, Jisung then sees you off before joining his parents who he didn’t even realize have already gone to their car. 

Seating himself at the backseat of his mom’s car a moment later, Jisung accidentally glances over to his mom from the rear view mirror only to see her wiggling her eyebrows at him. 

“So,” Mrs. Han says. “you and Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Jisung response with a questioning tone. “Me and Y/N, what about it?” 

Mrs. Han only shrugs from the driver’s seat as she now drives away from the Kim’s house. “Nothing, you’re just both really cute.” She comments casually with a proud smile. “I like it. Though it is too bad we can’t invite them to dinner since they’re going to Japan for Christmas this year.” 

“How about next year?” Jisung’s dad suggests. “We can go on one of our hotels abroad.” 

“Ah, but—” Jisung stammers, only to be interrupted by his dad again.     

“Or, honey, when you and Mrs. Y/L/N go to the mall again.” Mr. Han quickly quips in to Mrs. Han before turning to their son in the back seat. “I expect you’d stop bailing on your mom when she goes to the mall now since Y/N’s always at these shopping trips.” 

At this, Jisung shakes his head, “I won’t. I’m ‘morally obligated’ now, apparently.”

“That’s good.” Mr. Han says, turning back to the road ahead and relaxing into the front passenger seat. “You better.”

Jisung sleepily props his elbow up by the window and sighs, letting his parents enjoy this new prospect of him seriously dating someone now. “Yup.” He ends the conversation, closing his eyes and getting a few minutes of sleep before arriving back home. 

Suddenly, this is probably not a good idea—lying to his already hyped parents. 

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

tag: @t-toodumbtocare​ @sandaigdigan-reads​ @pwarkhans​ @ruellelix @malai-barfi @mahalau​ @milkywayfelix @qweens-stuff​

[bangtan-madi]

Year of the Rabbit — Four: Resolutions

Pairing — Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Yoongi, Taehyung x Jimin

Tags — best friend!Jungkook, non-idol au, flower shop au, gym au, florist!MC, gym owner!Jungkook, brother!Namjoon, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining

Genre — fluff, slight angst

Word Count — 3.9k

Summary — Blame it on the storm or the secret feelings or the snow-in, but one thing is for sure: a lot can happen to two best friends when they're confined to their stores overnight. 

Warnings — language

Part — 4 / 7

Previous — Next

When you've gathered a couple pans and utensils, you scurry back to the baker. The moment to yourself made things a bit easier to hide. But the thought of Jungkook's closeness still presses against your mind's backdoor. When you return, it's even harder to ignore. He's meticulously counting ingredients, lips pursed in an adorable manner. He's organized the containers around him, with the portable stovetop in front. In the makeshift kitchen, he's completely at home as he chops protein for the Tteokguk. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the beautiful array of ink is on display. He sits cross-legged, oddly domestic in front of the bakery.

"You just gonna stand there, or are you going to get down here and help me?"

You shake your head and walk towards the dimly-lit space. On the way, you admire the colorful array of rainbow lights around you. "They really went all-out with the Lunar New Year decor, didn't they?"

Jungkook takes the pans and utensils you offer him, muttering a swift thank you. "They're pretty. I think they give the space a nice ambiance."

As he measures ingredients, you remove the blanket from your shoulders, fold it several times over, and use it as a cushion. Jungkook's skilled hands work on measuring the oils and spices, along with a healthy dose of soy sauce. He places each ingredient in small bowls and sets them off to the side. 

"How'd you get the power for the stovetops?"

"The generator's through the door behind the bakery," he replies. "I plugged it in and borrowed some from that." He nods to the bottled water at his side. "Can you get some water going on the stove? Fill it up halfway. That should be enough."

"Then we add the brisket, right?" It takes four or five bottles before the pot on the largest of the three burners is to your liking. "I barely remember this from when Mom used to make it."

Jungkook smiles up at you as he offers a smaller dish of protein. His arm maneuvers around the burner, avoiding the heat source to not risk any burns. "And the garlic."

You shake your head, and after the water begins to boil, you add both ingredients. "It's a good thing you remember this, Gym Bunny. Otherwise, we'd both starve."

"No need to thank me for that," he snickers. "What you should be thanking me for is coming back for you at all. I could've stayed at your nice, warm apartment with the damn cat, but no. I braved the winter storm—"

"—Like an idiot—"

"—To save your ass. You're welcome." 

"Maybe you should've stayed with Elizabeth the 3rd, then! I could've made it out on my own, or found this place, and would've had some nice peace and quiet."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. As he reaches for a knife, placing the edge of the sharp blade against the green onion, he winces. The painful twitch of both his expression and his fingers isn't lost on you. He tries to grip the knife again, and when you glance down, you see his fingers are still tinged red from the cold. That hour he spent trekking from your apartment to the flower shop took a toll on him. It's one that he's refused to acknowledge.

"Dumbass," you mutter under your breath. Reaching across, you take the utensil from his tattooed hands. You slide the makeshift cutting board (an upside-down plate) over to your side of the little kitchen. "Stop trying to grip things. Your fingers are still half-frozen."

Jungkook relents, which surprises you in and of itself. He doesn't comment on the state of his hands. He only moves onto the next task of separating the egg yolks from the whites. 

Your attention shifts from the green onions up to your best friend. It's difficult not to be caught off-guard by his silence. "You okay, Kookie?"

The brunet's dark eyes move up to yours, and he gives a soft smile. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry, didn't realize they were still hurt...and you know how I feel about not being able to do things."

You finish the chopping and set the greens aside. "Don't beat yourself up about it. You need to learn to lean on others from time to time. A little teamwork won't kill you."

"It won't?"

A loud laugh slips out at his snide comment, which brings back Jungkook's adorable smile. He continues to tell you what to prep next, and as the minutes pass, you find yourself slipping into a rhythm with him. It's not the first time you've cooked together; far from it. Between after-school study sessions in high school, midnight mental health breakdowns in college, and post-education hangouts, the two of you have made a mess plenty of times. Much to Yoongi's dismay.

A chuckle slips out at the sudden resurgence of those college-era memories. "What do you think Yoongi would say if he saw us here right now, trying to make Tteokguk in the middle of a supermarket?"

Jungkook giggles as he adds the rice cakes to the boiling brisket and water, along with most of the spices and oils. "He'd probably just roll his eyes and warn us to clean up or he'd bury our bodies in the woods. His reaction doesn't scare me as much as Seokjin's."

The mention of your mutual friend causes you to double-over in laughter. Seokjin, the most traditional Korean man you know, would be horrified. "He'd probably just...die."

"But not before he'd scream at us," Jungkook adds, raising the large wooden spoon and gesturing to you. His eyes widen and he changes his voice to mimic Seokjin's satoori. "You can't just cook Tteokguk like that! What are you thinking? You're lucky you're not my son or I would have disowned you if I saw you using pre-made, frozen rice cakes! Hey! Stop it! I raised you better than this!"

The impression is spot-on, so much so that it has you gasping for air and red in the face from laughing. Tears burn your eyes, and you wave your hand at Jungkook, a silent plead for him to stop. You're unlucky enough that your best friend is a slight sadist and enjoys seeing you lose your mind.

"If you think it's so funny to cheat out on a thousand years of Korean cuisine history, then go ahead! But not in my house, and you have to be obedient to me because I'm an older person!"

"Stop, stop, stop," you gasp, curling in on yourself as you fall over onto the soft blanket. "It. Hurts." 

Jungkook continues his impression. His expression and voice grow more dramatic as time goes on. "Is this the thanks I get for buying your meals, huh? Do you know how many times I did that when you were a broke college freshman? I can't even count on my fingers! I don't have enough! I can't calculate! Because I secretly can't count!"

"Jeon Jungkook!" you rasp, smiling so wide your face hurts. "Please, god, stop."

Finally, he relents, voice shifting to a collection of giggles. Your breathing returns to normal, and your facial redness subsides. "You okay there, Flower Child?"

"I will kill you."

Jungkook smirks as he begins to add the final ingredients to the Tteokguk. "Highly doubt that. Especially with the Tteokguk almost done!"

Pulling yourself back into a seated position, you give Jungkook a pouty expression. "You promised me Hwajeon." You hold up a container of edible flowers.  

The brunet chuckles at your childish expression. He rolls his sleeves up a little farther, showing more of his tattoo sleeve in the process. He pushes the bag of flour to your side of the burners. "Have at it then. I'll finish up the Teokguk while you fry the cakes."

Your smile widens and you take the ingredients with eager hands. As you measure, Jungkook begins final preparations for the meal. He adds nori and strips of fried egg yolks. The smells that fill the supermarket are divine. For a moment, you forget the situation that brought you here. The blizzard outside. The lack of power. The fact that you're trapped in the store until morning. None of it matters anymore. Jeon Jungkook has always had that effect on you; he excels at making people forget their problems and sadness. It's one of the reasons you missed him more than life while spending time as an exchange student.

"What're you thinking about?" he asks, after a moment of silence.

Shrugging your shoulders, you begin to roll the ball of warm dough into smaller balls and prep them for frying. "Just about the past year. A lot's happened." You take a few of the edible flowers and press one into the flattened face of each bough ball. "A lot's changed."

Jungkook nods his agreement, once again stirring the pot. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. "How do you feel about your last semester at university?"

"Glad it's finally almost done," you scoff. "Been a long time coming. I loved traveling abroad, but it made me realize that what I have here with my friends, with the shop...this is home. Once the three of us graduate, I bet business will pick up."

Jungkook's shoulders relax, and he sighs in a way that almost sounds relieved. "So you think you're with those two idiots for the long-haul, huh?"

Thinking of Hoseok and Yoongi brings a sentimental smile to your face. You toss the first round of flattened dough into the oiled skillet. "I think so. We all work together well, and I love Seoul. I don't see myself living anywhere else, really. As a small business owner, you know what I mean when I say you're kinda anchored to your business."

"At least you have an online aspect," he snickers. Reaching for the serving bowls, he nods his chin towards the front of the store, as if to his gym across the street. "Can't exactly work out virtually."

"Ha! I wish."

"But I get what you mean, and honestly? I'm glad to hear it. I was kinda worried you'd end up loving the U.S. and...I don't know, want to move out of Korea or something."

As you flip the Hwajeon over, your gaze drifts upward. Jungkook's hair hangs over his eyes, but under that, you can see a rosy blush spread across his cheeks. His lip is between his teeth as he focuses on pouring the soup without spilling. If you didn't know better, you'd say he was embarrassed.

"Would you miss me if I did?" 

The question comes out without you thinking too hard about it. From the way Jungkook keeps his eyes away from yours, you second-guess if it was the right thing to ask. God knows it could be read into pretty easily. But the little feeling in the back of your mind, the one you'd locked away, has found a lock-pick. It's desperately trying to free itself. It wants to know the answer. For that reason, you wait with bated breath for a response.

"Like hell," he admits. "You're my best friend. I go to you about everything. I...don't know what my life would be like if I didn't have you in it, to be honest."

His words are sentimental, filled with truth, and drag out a complex array of feelings. You're both elated and terrified. Mostly the former, but the tiny prick of dread in your chest won't go away. Your realization from earlier in the evening is accompanied by these intense feelings. 

And since you have no idea what to do with them, you answer the best way you can, through a clouded mind. "Well, you don't need to worry, Bunny. I'm not going anywhere."

Jungkook's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Finishing with the plating, he nods to the Hwajeon. "About done?”

"What? Oh—yeah. Just about."

He passes you a plate and turns off both burners. "Then let's eat. Put them on the plate and follow me. I found the perfect place for a Lunar New Year meal."

After the Hwajeon is plated and the dual bowls of Tteokguk are on a platter, Jungkook leads you towards the front area of the supermarket. It's farther down than you previously ventured. It's past the food and drink to the small home goods, clothing, and electronics section. He must've come across it when he was looking for the burners. 

In the corner, next to the large windows at the front, there's a window display similar the one at the flower shop. It's a cubby of sorts, where the bay windows extended into the sidewalk. There used to be mannequins displayed with a variety of winter clothing. Jungkook's shoved them aside. In their place, he's arranged several blankets and pillows around a low table. He's even pushed one of the storage bins up behind the pillows to have something to lean back against.

"You did all this by yourself?" you ask.

Jungkook nods, sets the food onto the low table, and settles onto one of the cushions with a sigh. "You took forever getting the utensils, so I came over here and messed with some stuff." He pats the spot beside him. "The snow's lightening a bit. It looks so pretty from inside. Maybe we'll even see some fireworks in a little while."

You take your seat beside him, trying to ignore the fact that his thigh presses against yours and his arm brushes your shoulder when he offers you your bowl. For a moment, your eyes lock. Jungkook averts his attention, his dimple popping out as he purses his lips.

Taking it with a small "thank you" and slight bow of your head, you turn your gaze from the awkward boy down to the meal. Inhaling the aroma, you let a lazy smile spread across your face.

"Holy shit, this smells amazing."

"Just like Mom's," he breathes. Turning to the side, he holds up his glass bowl towards yours. "Cheers?"

"To a Happy New Year." You tap your bowl against his, giggling at the soft clink that it makes. 

After digging in and continuing to praise yourselves on a job well done, you change the topic of conversation. "So, you have any New Year's resolutions?"

"Isn't that an American thing?"

"It never hurts to look forward," you say in a snide tone, rolling your eyes at Jungkook's grin. "Fess up. What are you looking forward to in the Year of the Rabbit?"

Jungkook settles back against the pillows, taking another sip from the broth. "You first."

"Well..." you trail off, watching the blizzard slow to a soft fluttering of snowflakes outside the neon-lit window. "Kinda already told you mine, to be honest. Graduate. Grow the shop. Expand the business. Things of that nature."

"What about in your personal life?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I wanna get back to Ilsan to visit Mom and Dad more. I should also probably track down Joon and spend more time with h—"

"—Not what I meant, [Y/n]," Jungkook interrupts.

You tilt your head when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. "What did you mean then?"

The brunet shrugs and grabs a piece of Hwajeon. "You've been single ever since you dated that douche in high school. What was his name?"

"Ugh, Hae-song," you groan, not at all enjoying the resurgence of your exes name. 

"Yeah! That one," Jungkook chuckles. "I get best friend rights to know if you're seeing anyone lately."

"Awfully brave of you to assume that Hae-song was my last boyfriend."

Jungkook's eyes widen. "Did I miss something—Wait, when you were in the States?"

You nod once and set your finished bowl aside, glancing over your shoulder at the drink aisle a few meters away. Hopping up, you scurry over and grab a couple of bottles of you and Jungkook's favorites. "This conversation's going to need some soju," you murmur under your breath. "I can feel it."

Settling back down at his side, you offer one of the bottles to Jungkook with a tired smile. Cracking yours open with ease, you take a long sip before settling back against the cushions. Jungkook opens his in silence and allows you to collect your thoughts.

"Yeah, I met a guy," you admit. "He was another exchange student from Daegu. Whatever the odds, he ended up in the same group as me. We studied together a lot, and then we started dating a few weeks in."

"Are you still together?"

"God no," you reply, shaking your head fervently. "I would've told you if I was by now. We broke up a little before I left. He wanted to stay in the States long-term, as in, like, get a work Visa and move there. I'm not about a long-distance relationship. So we both thought it best to go our separate ways."

Jungkook nods along to your story, doing his best to understand where you're coming from. "Do you miss him?"

"Not really. He was nice and all, but we weren't all that close. I knew what I wanted out of life; so did he. Neither of us was gonna change, so it was easier to let go."

"Oh..." he breathes, then takes another gulp of the alcoholic beverage. 

"Sounds horrible when I say it like that." You laugh it off, then bump your shoulder against Jungkook's. His silence makes you a tiny bit smug, and his intense focus on the soju bottle invites a little giggle to escape. "Is someone jealous?"

Through flustered words, Jungkook manages to sputter, "Yeah, you wish. I...again, would've missed the hell out of you if you'd stayed. For a second, you scared me."

In a burst of bravery, aided by the alcohol in your system, you reach for Jungkook's free hand. Your fingers brush against his tattooed knuckles as you hold it between your own. Your touch is gentle. Even more so when you notice the slight scarlet hue that still ruminates on his fingertips.

You smile, softly running a forefinger across the ink on the back of his hand. "I hope you believe me when I say I'm not leaving."

Jungkook doesn't move an inch as your hands rest on his. He barely even breathes, afraid to move or speak or exhale. If it means running the risk of pushing you away by accident, he'd rather stay frozen for the rest of the night. 

"Promise, jagiya?"

Emphasis is given to your words as you hook your smaller pinky around his. Despite the cold outside, his skin is warm, and the touch sends sparks through your body. It doesn't help that he's close enough to hear your breathing. Close enough to rest his head on yours if he wanted to. Close enough kiss if you wanted to.

You shove that thought away, squeezing your pinky to mask your true feelings. "I promise." Embarrassed, you let his hand drop to his thigh and cross your arms over your chest. The action readjusts you to put a little more space between you both, much to Jungkook's dismay. "Your turn, Gym Bunny. What are your resolutions?"

"You never answered my question, though."

Rolling your eyes, you retort, "Fine. No, I'm not seeing anyone, nor do I have anyone in mind. Happy? Now, your turn."

Though taken back by your sudden withdrawal from him, Jungkook tries to focus on the question instead of the way the ghost of your touch lingers on his tattooed knuckles. "Well, like you, I wanna grow the business. Jimin and I are planning to look at some locations in Gangnam later this spring. If all goes well until then, we're going to open a second location before the year's up."

"That's great, Kookie!"

Your best friend chuckles at your enthusiasm. "We're excited. Feels like a step in the right direction. Growth, y'know?"

"What about personal life?" you inquire. "Don't think you're getting out of that one either. You broke up with your girlfriend before the holidays. Interested in anyone else lately?"

"Actually...there is someone," Jungkook admits. He reaches for another bite of Hwajeon and offers you a second piece. "I'm not sure they see me the same way as I see them, though."

"How do you know?"

He shrugs again. "A feeling. I realized how I felt about them last fall, which is why I broke up with my ex. We weren't in love, and we both knew that."

"All this while I was gone?" you ask, feeling a sense of dread wash over you. Maybe he was lying before when he said he hadn't met anyone new in the time you were gone. From the way he's talking now, it sounds like he's interested in someone else.

"Yeah. It's been building for a while, I think, but it only hit me right before the holidays."

Popping the cap off the second bottle of soju, you take a long swig before adding, "Sounds like you got it bad, Bunny. Why haven't you said anything to them?"

"Scared of messing up?" he replies, answering it more like a question than a statement, as if he's unsure himself. "Scared of what they'd do. Scared of ruining our relationship now. Scared that it'll end up being one-sided." The brunet finishes his bottle and places it on the table. "I was lucky with my ex; both of us realized that we weren't right for the other. What if, this time, I let myself fall, only to have the rug ripped out from under me?"

If you're honest, hearing his concerns about the person he's falling for gives you a plethora of mixed feelings. Half of you desperately wants to believe he's talking about you. The other half is terrified that he's thinking of someone else. His words could lend themselves either way. You've only ever been best friends. And you realize how long it took you to finally realize your true feelings. You doubt that he's come to the same conclusion, at the same time.

No one is that lucky.

Even as your chest aches, the wish for him to be happy—no matter what—forces you to put your own emotions aside. "Do you trust this person?"

"Yes."

"Okay. And do they trust you?"

"I think so. I hope so."

You offer your companion a second bottle, which he gladly takes. "Do you think you could truly be happy if you kept your feelings to yourself? If you never told them?"

"Probably not," he sighs, forcing a smile. "I don't see this feeling going away anytime soon."

"Then, in my humble opinion, you gotta tell them. Even if it's scary, even if it ends up being awkward, even if you feel like it might be one-sided. You're not going to rest easy until it's out in the open." Your blatant hypocrisy is not lost on you, even as you speak. "If you really feel this way about this person, I don't think there's another option."

"And if they reject me?"

"'Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all'?"

Taglist — @kooala​

[cloveroctobers]

(A/n: this might be a little biased since I’m in love with this man & I’m basing the relationship parts of this on my mc/myself so hope y’all don’t mind 😬)

IG info/bio: @/lucas.koh | 93.1k followers | for business inquires please visit: kohptr.com

LUCAS KOH —

27 (28) years old

From Oxford, England

Father is Korean & a car salesman at a Nissan dealership, he’s a strict/serious man who has high morals but beyond that he can actually be a softie in rare moments (+ that’s who Lucas gets his height from 🤤)

Mother is actually Chinese but lived in Korea studying abroad and eventually became a successful chiropractor (s/o to doctor mondragon on YouTube who I watch to help me sleep some nights and wish I could see! Lol) with her own practice. She’s a firecracker, intelligent, and quick to say what’s on her mind and doesn’t care if you like what she’s got to say. Most patients like that about her, she’s honest and her family is used to her ways but in the same way it’s more loving than offensive? (Smol woman but will remind you when she’s cracking your body she’s got enough power in her)

Either he’s a only child or he comes from a family of all boys with two younger brothers (they’re all in their 20’s) or he has one younger brother and one younger sister idk you decide

I’m feeling like he’s a Sagittarius? Carefree in the terms of he wasn’t viewing finally getting with MC when she’s dating someone else as cheating. Mans was READY to risk it all for me okay and I was down for it but ofc I had to react realistically and NOT “cheat.” *sigh* one part of me was debating ‘are we really dating tho bobby? We’re on reality tv. We’re not gonna die without each other if we hang out in seperate rooms’ *cough* Nope. but I’m a woman about her loyalty

He’s definitely adventurous. I don’t see him as the type to want to stay home all the time even tho his work definitely keeps him busy/exhausted. He’s down for road trips 💯

Occupation? Physicotherapist. His mother inspired him to get into the field and watching sports + the way players got their injuries always intrigued him? So to provide the best plan to have someone heal was something he loved to do plus being hands on while teaching/helping was a passion for him + I feel like he would also use a massaging technique instead of the usual exercise part of it

Now as someone who suffered a ACL & Mensicus tear & is STILL dealing with this BS pain years later, I would be so thankful to have him around! I feel like he’d have a optimistic attitude towards his patients and that’s what people need not someone that’s insensitive (like my surgeon/PT’s I had)

He models from time to time, when he was first approached about it he was upfront about not wanting to do it. It was much different than getting your picture taken for the office. That’s usually quick, the whole modeling process felt longer but somehow he was talked into it by his brother who’s a photographer and his mother. “Do you think you’re ugly? ‘Cause I’m not and you’re a part of me, so therefore there’s no such thing. Just look at your cheekbones, your jawline! I gave you those. The only good thing your father gave you was height.” Which filled the house with snickers while Lucas’ father just rolled his eyes and continued reading his newspaper for breakfast

Has a motorcycle and some luxurious car—not a Tesla those are basic now 🤷🏽‍♀️

Loves his motorcycle so much he’s got a tat of it on his right bicep

He has two available parking spaces in his parking garage at his penthouse but keeps his bike away in a storage unit due to a neighbor scratching it after his girlfriend broke up with him? Saying she was off to date Lucas? But that wasn’t true at all. He barely knew the girl, they didn’t live on the same floor. People were crazy but if you push him his temper might come out

Owns a leather jacket that he paid a lot for

Believes in “treat yo self” if it means in quality when shopping and has no issue being a big spender but he knows how to manage it well (his father told him all about how his own father dealt with bankruptcy)

Since he’s often at the office the whole day, he’s usually a night owl. He loves night drives and night dining. That’s usually when he finds the best places to eat

There’s this one pho spot that he loves and it’s his go to spot when he wants something quick on the way home

Cannot sleep with his entire body covered in covers, either his arms/shoulders have to be out or his legs, which would be a issue for me/mc since I sleep with the covers over my entire body...yes even in hot weather with the AC cranked up😂

He also makes great kimchi fried rice & loves Italian food

Will wine and dine. I believe it. I envision it! He loves going out on dates with his significant other (If he’s single and not with me, I think he’d try out speed dating)

Will dress to impress, will buy you a new fit he wants to see you/us/mc in especially if it’s your anniversary

Loves taking bubble bath’s with infused oils or flower petals with significant other

He’s the type that takes long showers & it brings him a true sense of freedom. He’s never able to take a quick shower, he gets lost in his ideas of what to do next in this world & it’s limitless

If he’s in for the day, which usually doesn’t last long—he’s either in sweats or in a robe all day

Only drives his bike on the weekend or if he’s going out of town but if he’s going on a trip for a couple of days with MC & if she’s got a bit of anxiety like me? He’ll stick to his car to make them comfortable

I feel like he enjoys the winter season. Maybe if it’s a slushy rainy winter more than a blizzards/snowy season. He loves bundling up, much to people’s surprise. He’s more than just his good looks and body love island fans!!!

Doesn’t post much on his socials. If you need to see what he’s about then you should do so in person or already know who he is. The internet can’t tell you much, in his opinion

Keeps himself in good health, I mean duh what kind of PT would he be 😉 goes on night jogs with reflector clothes on & occasionally morning jogs & at home workouts

Probably will date someone younger than him. Not by much, I don’t think he can take immaturity well. (That maybe how he views it) The most is 4 years younger than him

Henrik is his best bud from the show. They hang out all the time, crash at each other’s places, and vacation together all the time. They will be each other’s future best men forsure

Doesn’t go out of his way to talk to the rest of the guys from the show but if he happens to browse his feed and sees something he wants to comment on then he’ll carry a conversation of course

Far as the girls? He talks to Hannah & Priya from time to time. He also follows Hope and they like each other’s posts but not much communication is there either?

Either has a mint or black phone case, probably a Samsung galaxy user

Likes pistachio frozen yogurt but he’s lactose & doesn’t want to believe it :(

Smokes cigars when he’s out with his boys

Has a tight knit group of friends, majority of them are from the medical field since they all went to uni together + most of them are also married so the pressure is so on

*He’s the oldest out of his sibs so according to his parents he’s expected to be married first yet his baby sis is engaged and she’s 23*

wants a family...eventually. Probably will happen in his early thirties? The max for children is 2 for him. He knows they can be a HANDFUL due to his own friends who have kids + he’s a godfather and he’s babysat before so he knows how it goes!

enjoys his freedom as stated which further proves he’s a sag lol

Enjoys going to saunas to cleanse his pores/ get rid of toxins. It’s the easiest way for him to do so even tho his brother clowns him for it

His love language is deff physical touch. He loves hugs and resting his chin on top of your head, forehead to forehead, his nose pressed in between the space of your neck and shoulder, gentle squeezes, sitting next to each other with your legs touching, cuddling, sleeping on top of you or you on him, etc

He loves kissing. It’s automatic for him and it can also easily rile him up

Has strong opinions & will show them but will feel like he’s being attacked if it brings on a confrontation/argument

Will forgive and forget

Plays strategy board games

Makes his own natural healing creams & gives samples to his patients depending on their needs

His fav colors are: blue, white, & grey

Will grow a bit of facial hair in the cooler months if it’ll make mc happy (I’m a sucker for facial hair but hate it on myself lmao) but if he dislikes the feeling on his face he will shave and finds he likes a shaven face better, the facial hair makes him look a bit older—which is okay but that’s just his preference

When he stops putting gel in his hair/styling his hair in a quiff hairstyle it shocks fans with mc commenting on one of his pics, “you’re welcome x”

Likes going to the Hard Rock Cafe on causal weekends

also likes getting freaky in public, down for whatever 🤪

He’s a traveler so if he leaves the UK, I’m seeing him land in Toronto, Canada first and falling in love with it. I feel he would vibe well with the culture there, might even consider getting a vacation home in that location

Celeb crushes? Anne Hathaway, Beyoncé, Lupita Nyong'o, Anna Diop, Imaan Hammam, Jodie Comer, Megan Fox, Shay Mitchell, & Cassie Ventura Fine

Oh Lucas. I feel like we have similar tastes? Somewhat. He probably listens to more rock than I do? Maybe 80s rock moreso? & He listens to: WALK THE MOON, Allen Stone (his fav) , Emily king, Gavin Turek, Melanie Fiona, THEY., DPR live, & Sik-k

Anthem = Young the Giant, “Something to believe in”

[flirting-with-psychology]

REFLECTIONS Answer the following questions:

What is the single best thing that happened in the past year?

2015:  The beginning of the fall semester when I grew a lot more confidence

2016: Studied abroad

2017: Graduated

2018: Moved into the B Flat

2019: Got a boyfriend

2020: Got a car

2. What is the most challenging thing that happened to you in 2015/16/17/18/19/20?

2015: Getting over Marble maybe

2016: Getting over Hawaii

2017: Making my 4500 film

2018: The music videos I did

2019: Deciding whether to date my now boyfriend

2020: The entire pandemic

3. What thing did you learn the most from this year?

2015: Hawaii and Marble

2016: My film class

2017: Also my film class

2018: My film jobs and internships

2019: Starting a relationship

2020: I guess the pandemic

4. What is the kindest thing you did this year?

2015:  I don’t think I’m the one to ask, you’d have to ask people who perceived kindness

2016: Same

2017: Same

2018: Same

2019: Same

2020: Wore a mask

5. Did you lose any close family member this year?

2015: Nope

2016: No

2017: No

2018: My great aunt died

2019: No close ones, but my grandma’s dementia is getting so bad she doesn’t remember who I am

2020: No

6. Pick three words to describe 2015/16/17/18/19/20.

2015: A learning experience

2016: Single, senior, band

2017: Senior to graduate

2018: Almost an adult

2019: Another year older

2020: Covid, long, stagnant

7. What did you do in 2015/16/17/18/19/20 that you never did before?

2015: Got further than I ever had in my love life

2016: Studied abroad

2017: Moved into a house with roommates

2018: Moved in with male roommates, did an internship

2019: Got a boyfriend

2020: Bought a car

8. Did you keep last year’s resolutions? What were they?

2015: Here we go. Put one happy moment from each day into a jar: YES. Go to the gym regularly: Doing better but still could use improvement. Get a summer job: Yes. Make an effort to eat breakfast: Haha nope. Make an effort to look pretty: About the same as last year. Talk to people more and appear more confident: Yes. Find things to be excited about: Not as much as I want. Find a boyfriend: NOPE. Write more: Not really. Read more: Maybe a little. Have adventures: Some, but not as much as I would like. Initiate things: Yes. Use “I” more: Yes. Be less mean to myself: Yes. Overthink less: No, still working on that. Be proud of myself for trying my best but accept not being perfect: I guess. Take responsibility: More. Be positive and enthusiastic: Still working on it. Carpe diem: Not enough.

2016: I can’t remember lol

2017: I can’t remember what I wrote. Here’s what I’ll do: write my 2018 resolutions so that when I reblog this next year I will know:

2018: Be more adventurous: Maybe? Overthink and strategize less: HA not really. Get a film job: Yes. Eat more vegetables: Maybe a little but still not enough. Go to the gym, like, ever: Yes. Read more: Kinda. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet.

2019: Get a boyfriend: Finally did! Be more spontaneous and adventurous: Kinda? Sometimes? Lose weight and eat better: Nope. Read more books: Nope. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet. Learn how to work hard: Not really. Spend more time with my friends: Kinda. Love myself, and be someone I love: Not really. Carpe diem: Sometimes. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal: Yes. Earn more money than I spend: Nope. Travel: Yes. Discover new music: Yes. Try new creative things: Yes. Believe in myself: Not really. Learn to be a leader: Nope. Watch more movies: Some. Think about other people: Tried to. Learn how to make mistakes: Kinda.

2020: Get a new job: No. Lose weight and fit into my dresses again: Noope, the opposite. Read more books: A couple. Spend more time with friends: Haha, nope, although I did zoom with them some. Go on dates: Not really. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal: Yes. Try new creative things: Yes, I tried dice making. Take risks even if they cost money: Yes, again the dice making. Make more money than I spend: Actually yes with the stimulus. Make jewelry: Some, and opened and etsy page. Get back to people in a timely manner: So-so. Be more punctual: Nope. Finish my harry potter spellbook and keep up with my character book: Nope. Learn new things: Not enough. Be the kind of person I wish I could be: No. Be more open to ideas: No. Post more pictures online: No. Don’t be such a control freak: Not even a little bit. Worry less about what people think: Kinda. Laugh more: No.

2021 resolutions: Get an interesting job. Get my own apartment. Get a covid vaccine. Lose weight. Keep doing my sticky notes and moment calendar. Be less hard on myself. Survive. 

9. Did you travel to any interesting places in 2015/16/17/18/19/20?

2015: Went to Las Vegas for my birthday and California with the band and Kentucky to see Paul McCartney.

2016: Went to Italy, went on band trips to California and Texas

2017: Went to London with my mom, went to New Orleans for my cousin’s wedding and hooked up with my 6th grade crush, went to Wyoming for the solar eclipse

2018: Went to Las Vegas for a film shoot

2019: Went to Israel

2020: Went to Harry Potter World in Orlando with my boyfriend

10. What would you like to have in 2016/17/18/19/20/21 that you lacked in 2015/16/17/18/19/20?

2015: A BOYFRIEND HAHAHA

2016: Still a boyfriend lmao fml

2017: Still a boyfriend but one that I feel satisfied with. I’m not sure if I’m there with Guacamole. Also he’s not even my boyfriend yet

2018: Still a boyfriend lmao

2019: An interesting job (finally got the boyfriend!)

2020: A job, an apartment, and a vaccine

11. Do you even believe in new year’s resolutions? Why or why not?

2015: I think they are a good idea, for reflection as much as goals.

2016: Maybe. Idk

2017: Yeah it’s a good idea

2018: It’s always good to try to better yourself and it gives you motivation to do it

2019: It’s a good idea for goals

2020: It’s good to make goals and remind yourself what to work on

12. Do you believe that 2015/16/17/18/19/20 had an reoccurring theme for you? If so, which theme and why?

2015: No more than any other year really

2016: More like my entire life has a recurring theme of being single af

2017: Not really

2018: Boys I like having girlfriends

2019: Macy’s

2020: Covid

13. Do you feel like 2015/16/17/18/19/20 went by too fast?

2015: No

2016: It went a little fast, especially now that I’m about to graduate

2017: Not really

2018: Not really, but maybe my youth went too fast

2019: It went by too fast for how much I accomplished

2020: It went by way too slow

14. Did you fall in love with any new artists during the year 2015/16/17/18/19/20? List them.

2015: I fell back in love with Taylor Swift

2016: Collabro

2017: Anastasia the Musical cast, and Hamilton is growing on me

2018: A bunch of musicals

2019: My musicals playlist on spotify has Rent, Dear Evan Hansen, Legally Blonde, Galavant, Hamilton, A Star Is Born, Frozen 2

2020: Fell more in love with taylor Swift, and Come From Away

15. Brag about two of your accomplishments in 2015/16/17/18/19/20.

2015: I made a couple cool music videos, and I lost some weight after increasing my gym attendance.

2016: I made a short film, Pancakes, with a full crew. I got straight A’s in the spring.

2017: I graduated and I made another short film

2018: I worked on two film shoots and I got promoted at work

2019: I stayed in touch with friends I made on a film shoot, and I got a boyfriend

2020: Bought a car and was the costume designer for a TV pilot

16. What was your favorite movie that came out this year?

2015: The Martian

2016: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

2017: Coco

2018: A Star Is Born

2019: Rocketman

2020: None of them were really memorable

17. Fill in the blank: In 2016/17/18/19/20/21 I will ____________.

2015: Get the confidence back that I had in the fall

2016: Graduate college

2017: Start looking for film jobs

2018: Find myself

2019: Find a new job

2020: Survive, please

18. If you could fly anywhere in the world in 2016/17/18/19/2021, where would you go?

2015: Italy, and I plan to!

2016: London, and I plan to

2017: Scotland or Ireland, and I don’t have any plans to

2018: Maybe that Israel birthright thing

2019: Maybe Ireland or Amsterdam

2020: Wherever has the least amount of covid. Of course that probably means they wouldn’t let me in

19. What was your biggest regret of 2015/16/17/18/19/20?

2015: Worrying about the future when I had something good rather than just enjoying it

2016: Not trying enough in making friends and making the most out of it

2017: Maybe not getting quite enough out of college

2018: Forgetting or never quite learning how to work hard. That and not asking a cute guy out in time

2019: Not buying that moonstone necklace

2020: Gaining weight

20. Do you think you’ll be having a better 2016/17/18/19/20/21 than 2015/16/17/18/19/20?

2015: I hope so

2016: I hope so

2017: I hope so

2018: I hope so and I think so

2019: I sure hope so

2020: I fucking hope so

21. Did you make any new friends this year? Lose any friends?

2015: I got closer with some friends :)

2016: I made some new band and film friends. One of my friends from freshman year died.

2017: I almost lost a friend but now we seem to be friends again. I also made some new ones

2018: I made some new ones, and kinda stopped being friends with some of my old roommates

2019: I think I got closer to some friends

2020: I met a few online playing among us, and I probably lost my roommates

22. What was the biggest adventure of the last year?

2015: Hawaii, I think

2016: Studying abroad

2017: Moving out and starting to adult

2018: The film shoots

2019: Dating my boyfriend

2020: Harry Potter World

23. Did you get cake on your birthday? Presents? What you wanted?

2015: Yeah I went to Vegas which was cool! Got cake and alcohol and presents

2016: I did not get cake but I got IHOP. I got presents, and the football team won the game that day sending us to the PAC 12 Championship

2017: I got pancakes, presents, and maybe I’m starting to get what I wanted?

2018: I got chocolate mousse and presents and I didn’t even know what I wanted

2019: I got cake and presents including one thing I wanted

2020: I got bundt cake and a few things from my wish list

24. How much did you change this year? What’s different about you?

2015: Not too much has changed but I think I’m prettier, more confident, braver, and value bravery more.

2016: I’m lazier, gained back the weight that I lost last year, and lost some of the confidence from last year. Wow…

2017: I’m not a student anymore

2018: I maybe lost some of my hope in my love life and felt more set in my ways

2019: I don’t have as much FOMO but I’m also getting more frustrated with my life

2020: Gained weight, got more anxiety

CONFESSIONS

Bold the statements that are true (2015) and cross out (2016) and italicize (2017) and I’m running out of formats so CAPS (2018) and *star (2019) and ~tilde (2020)

In the year 2015/2016/2017/2018/2019/2020 I confess that I….

KISSED SOMEONE I HAVE NEVER KISSED BEFORE. ~*DID SOMETHING I REGRET. *Painted a picture. *Dyed my hair. Got a new haircut I thought I’d never get before. Wrote a poem. Graduated from High School. Graduated from College. Applied for Graduate School. RAN A MILE. Ate much healthier. Ended toxic friendships. ~*GAINED A NEW FRIEND. Gained a new best friend. *Visited a foreign country. ~*LIED. ~*HAD A FIGHT WITH MY PARENTS. *HAD A SECRET/KEPT A SECRET. Realized my homosexuality. ~REALIZED MY BISEXUALITY. (OR AT LEAST QUESTIONED IT) Realized my pansexuality. Realized my asexuality. ~*Broke a promise. *Slept under the stars. ~*STAYED UP TILL SUNRISE. ~*PUSHED SOMEONE AWAY. ~*Got in a fight. SLEPT WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER. ~*ATTENDED A PARTY. Got dumped. Got a new piercing/tattoo. Learned that I wasn’t cis gender. Drank underage/used illegal substances. *ATTENDED A CONCERT. *ATTENDED A MUSICAL. ~*TRAVELED TO ANOTHER CITY. *Broke someone’s heart. *Hiding something from someone. ~*MADE SOMEONE’S DAY. Cheated on a test/homework. Physically cheated on my significant other. ~*Emotionally cheated on my significant other. ~Quit a job. GOT A NEW JOB. Learned to hate someone I thought I never would. Learned to be more patient. Saw the supermoon. ~SAW THE METEOR SHOWER.

[honeypiehotchner]

Safe -- part one

Oh goodness. Hello! Here I go again with another story. This is my first ever Mycroft x reader, so I hope you all enjoy! This one is rather close to my heart and will get dark/emotional at times. Themes like PTSD, anxiety, depression, and such will come up, so please be safe in reading this. Take care of yourselves. That all being said, welcome to Safe.

Oh, and this dialogue is borrowed from “The Empty Hearse” because the line “I’m not lonely, Sherlock,” literally birthed this story (that’s strange but true). Anywho. Continue.

“Oh, bugger!”

           “Oopsie. Can’t handle a broken heart, how very telling?”

           “Don’t be smart.”

           Sherlock leans back in his chair. “That takes me back.” He prepares himself and begins mocking his older brother, “Don’t be smart, Sherlock. I’m the smart one.”

           “I am the smart one.”

           “I used to think I was idiot.”

           Mycroft smiles in amusement. “Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on until we met other children.”

           “Oh, yes, that was a mistake.”

           “Ghastly. What were they thinking of?”

           “Probably something about trying to make friends,” Sherlock replies rather pointedly.

           “Oh, yes. Friends. Of course, you go in for that sort of thing now.”

           “And you don’t? Ever?” Another pointed question.

           Mycroft sighs as his brother, once again, goes off-topic. “If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I’m living in a world of goldfish.”

           Sherlock furrows his eyebrows. “Yes, but I’ve been away for two years.”

           “So?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a…goldfish.” Another pointed statement. Sherlock is trying to steer the conversation somewhere he knows Mycroft doesn’t want it to go. But Mycroft fancies someone. Sherlock is sure of it.

“Change the subject. Now.” Mycroft quickly stands, having had enough of his brother’s antics, but he can’t exactly leave because this conversation isn’t over.

This is when you walk in, nearly groaning aloud because all you want is some damn milk to put in your tea, and when the Holmes brothers are in the same room together, one simple task is never that simple. One of them is bound to notice something about you that you don’t even notice after picking yourself apart in the mirror, thus lowering your self-esteem and your patience – which is already so thin today that you feel like you might snap.

“Rest assured, Mycroft, whatever this underground network of yours is up to the secret will reside in something seemingly insignificant or bizarre.”

“Ooh-hoo,” Mrs. Hudson makes her presence known as she walks in behind you, holding a tray of tea.

“Speaking of which,” Mycroft comments.

You stop in the doorway to the kitchen, clearing your throat rather loudly, which in turn causes Mycroft to meet your heated glare. Mrs. Hudson is like a mother to you. And you never stand for any indirect or direct slander toward her.

“Apologies,” he says quickly, and even though you know he doesn’t mean it, you nod firmly and continue into the kitchen. It’s better than nothing.

Sherlock watches the encounter with narrowed eyes as Mrs. Hudson continues speaking. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it. Him, sitting in his chair again. Oh, isn’t it wonderful, Mr. Holmes?”

“I can barely contain myself,” Mycroft replies dryly, and you really do try to muffle the giggle that comes out of your mouth, but you fail.

Oh, fine. You’ve had a ridiculous crush on Mycroft Holmes from the day you met him and every time you think about it you want to throw yourself out a window. How ironic for you. Your past relationships have failed because you were too clingy but somehow not clingy enough, so what kind of sense does it make for you to fancy a man who doesn’t know the first thing – nor does he seem to care about having a romantic relationship?

No damn sense at all, that’s what. But you suppose it must be for a reason.

You return unsatisfied from the kitchen – Sherlock doesn’t have any milk – to find Mrs. Hudson has gone and the brothers are still going at it.

“Let’s do deductions,” you hear Sherlock say.

“Absolutely not,” is your reply because you believe they’re going to deduce you, but after seeing Sherlock pick up a hat one of his clients left, you let out a little sigh of relief.

“I’m busy,” Mycroft replies after catching the hat.

“Oh, go on, it’s been an age.”

He pauses to sniff the article. “I always win.”

“Which is why you can’t resist.”

“Here we go,” you roll your eyes, but you don’t leave the flat like you had intended. You’ve always loved to listen to Mycroft make deductions, as idiotic as it sounds. As long as they aren’t deducing you when you’re not in the mood, then you’re okay with it. His intelligence is attractive, you won’t deny that.

“I find nothing irresistible in the hat of a well-traveled, anxious, sentimental, unfit creature of habit with appalling halitosis,” he breathes. “Damn.”

You snicker as he tosses the hat back to his brother, Sherlock settling in with his own deductions. You decide to make yourself a cup of tea from the tray Mrs. Hudson left because you know neither of them are going to have one anyway.

“Isolated, too, don’t you think?”

“Why would he be isolated?”

           “He?”

           “Obviously.”

           “Why? Size of the hat?”

           “Don’t be silly. Some women have large heads, too.”

           They’re not even talking about you, and yet your insecurities slip in. Is your head too big? That’s stupid to think, stop it.

           “No, he’s recently had his hair cut. You can see the little hairs adhering to the perspiration stains on the inside.”

           “Some women have short hair, too,” Sherlock mumbles.

           “Balance of probability.”

           That phrase. You keep meaning to put it on a t-shirt for Mycroft. You almost let out another giggle as you settle onto the couch, your tea in hand, just imagining Mycroft opening that on Christmas. That would be a sight to see – and record for future laughter.

           “Not that you’ve ever spoken to a woman with short hair, or, you know, a woman.”

           Your eyes widen at Sherlock’s accusation. Is he trying to annoy his brother extra hard today or something? He does that enough just by existing – they both do – but he’s almost trying a little too hard today.

           “Stains show he’s out of condition. And he’s sentimental because the hat has been repaired three…f—”

           “Five times,” Sherlock tosses it back. “Very neatly. The cost of the repairs exceeds the cost of the hat, so he’s mawkishly attached to it. But it’s more than that. One, perhaps two patches would indicate sentimentality, but five? Five’s obsessive behavior. Obsessive-compulsive.”

           “Hardly. Your client left it behind. What sort of an obsessive-compulsive would do that? The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he’s worn it abroad. In Peru.”

           Seriously, how do they see this stuff?

           “Peru?”

           “This is a Chullo. The classic headgear of the Andes, it’s made of Alpaca.”

           “Nope.”

           “No?”

           “Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive, if you know what you’re looking for. I’ve written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of nature fibers. You said he was anxious?”

           “The bobble on the left side has been badly chewed, which shows he’s a man of a nervous disposition, but…”

           “But also a creature of habit because he hasn’t chewed the bobble on the right.”

           You smirk around the edge of your cup when Mycroft gives you a rather tired look when Sherlock begins talking over him. You try your hardest to ignore the sudden jolt your heart gives at Mycroft’s eyes when they settle on you, quickly averting your own gaze to the newspaper on the cushion beside you.

           “Precisely,” Mycroft deadpans.

           Sherlock sniffs the hat. “A brief sniff of the offending bobble tells us everything we need to know about the state of his breath. Brilliant.”

           “Elementary.”

           “But you’ve missed his isolation.”

           “I don’t see it.”

           Your eyes lift to see what Sherlock is going on about.

           “Plain as day.”

           “Where?”

           “There for all to see.”

           You smirk, returning to the newspaper. Sherlock is teasing him. That’s always a sight.

           “Tell me.”

           “Plain as the nose…”

           “Tell me!”

           “Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn’t in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?”

           You blink. That was aggressive.

           “Not at all. Maybe he just doesn’t mind being different. He doesn’t necessarily have to be isolated.”

           “Exactly,” Sherlock replies, rather knowingly. This comment makes you lift your eyes for a final time to see what’s happening.

           Mycroft blinks at his brother in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

           Now you’re confused, too.

           “He’s different, so what? Why would he mind? You’re quite right.” Sherlock pauses, and you watch as he places the hat atop his head. You furrow your eyebrows. “Why would anyone mind?”

           Your eyes shift to Mycroft for a response. He stares at his younger brother, his mouth opening to form a reply, but it takes him a few seconds.

           “I’m not lonely, Sherlock.”

           You don’t even need to see Sherlock’s face to know he’s giving his brother a rather harsh look. “How would you know?”

           Your eyes widen, suddenly feeling like you just decided to sit in on a rather personal conversation when you thought this was going to be some friendly deducting. Apparently not.

           Mycroft sends you another tired look, but it doesn’t take an idiot to see the confused revelation behind his eyes. Mycroft Holmes, lonely? Even that puzzles you.

           “Yes. Back to work, if you don’t mind. Good morning,” he nods at you, turning to walk out of the flat.

           Mrs. Hudson chuckles from the kitchen, but you’re too shocked to say anything, your mouth hanging open only slightly.

           “Right. Back to work.”

           You lean to the side, out of Sherlock’s way as he steps up onto the couch beside you to study his growing array of pictures on the wall. All for this terrorist bomb case of sorts. Nothing fazes you anymore.

           But Sherlock pauses, remembering your reaction and your actions and making a quick deduction. It takes you all of two seconds to notice he’s staring at you, and to realize what’s coming.

           “Here we go,” you breathe, settling in for his daily deduction. You set down the newspaper, heaving a sigh as you lean your head back to look at him. “What is it now?”

           “Do you fancy my brother?”

           You blink, and you don’t have to worry about your facial expressions giving you away this time because your face is frozen in shock. “I’m sorry?”

           “You fancy my brother.”

           “Sherlock—”

           “Your cheeks colored when he looked at you and you addressed him as soon as you walked in. If it was anyone else here, you would have went back to your flat. But you stayed to listen and repeatedly made eye contact.” He pauses. “You—”

           “Okay, that’s enough of that.” You set your tea down on the table, flashing Sherlock a unamused smile. “Good morning.”

           And you leave the flat as quickly as your legs can carry you.

 ~~~

John tries not to worry when he finds you on his couch an hour later because he did tell you that you are welcome here whenever – and he meant it – but it is slightly worrying when you have your hands covering your eyes, and when you’re lying down.

           “Bad day?”

           “The worst,” you reply, accepting your dramatics with full-force. “Mycroft was in Sherlock’s flat when I walked up.”

           John stills in the doorway. You had told him months ago that you fancied Mycroft only because he kept pestering you about the subject, and when you finally told him, his heart honestly broke for you a little.

           “Is it Sherlock? It’s Sherlock, isn’t it?” Not that John would particularly like the idea, but it is plausible.

           “No, John, it’s not Sherlock, good God.” The last person you could see yourself falling for is Sherlock Holmes.

           “That’s a relief,” he chuckles, meaning it more than you think. “Well, then who?”

           You grimace. “Don’t hate me when I say it.”

           “I’m not going to hate you, Y/N.”

           “Mycroft.”

           John blinks. “Sorry what?”

           “There, I said it! I fancy Mycroft fucking Holmes, the single most irritating human on this planet behind his brother, and I fancy him. Like an idiot. I fancy him.” You pause, holding your head in your hand. “It’s bad. Really bad.”

           It was bad months ago, and it’s still bad now. You always thought the feeling would go away, you know? Mycroft can be irritating, and he isn’t around much, so maybe the distance would provide you with some time to get over your feelings. You thought it was a simple crush, one that would go away after a week or two.

           But distance makes the heart grow fonder couldn’t be anymore true in this instance, and it makes you want to punch a wall.

           And John knows this. You even told him that you knew Mycroft obviously was not the type of man to even have a romantic relationship, so you knew you are doomed, and you had accepted your fate. But John hates seeing you like this. He wants you to be happy, and maybe have a happy relationship one day. It’s unfortunate your heart is set at the moment on someone who doesn’t exactly see relationships – or friendships for that matter – in the same way you do.

           “How’s the…feelings?” John isn’t sure how to word it properly, and he doesn’t exactly want to ask you outright.

           You know what he’s referring to, though, and you groan and sit up. “Still alive, and still ridiculously raging. And now Sherlock knows.”

           “Bloody hell,” John mutters, coming to sit next to you on the couch. “How did he find out?”

           “He’s Sherlock Holmes, how do you think he found out? Same way he found out I had seen my abuser at the café the other– Dammit.”

           You hadn’t told John about the diner the other day. And you weren’t planning to, really, because he worries. But it’s too late for that now.

           “You saw him again? When?”

           “The other day,” you wave his concern away. “We’re not going to talk about my stupid crush?”

           “That can wait. Did he hurt you?”

           “No, John, I’m fine,” you sigh. “He just sat down, and I had to serve him.”

           “How did that go?”

           “It didn’t,” you chuckle darkly. “Anne took him for me. I went on break. For an hour.”

           John’s expression turns sad. “I’m so sorry.”

           “It’s fine, really,” you shake your head. “He hasn’t shown up again, so all is fine.”

           “If you say so. But tell me if you see him again,” John breathes, leaning back into the couch. He wishes you’d tell him about these things, but he knows you don’t like to talk about it, so he changes the subject. “Do you think Sherlock told him?”

           “What?”

           “Do you think Sherlock told Mycroft?”

           Your eyes widen. “I hadn’t even thought of that, fuck! I’m going to have to move out of the country. This is the end.”

           John lets out a loud laugh, patting your leg. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

           “I have to. It’s how I cope.”

           John smirks, reaching over to rub circles on your back. “You’ll be fine.”

           “I’m not so sure about that.”

           He gives you a look.

           “Dramatics, Johnny. I’ll be fine. I need to just get over myself.”

           John sighs, motioning for you to sit up. You do, accepting his hug as he tugs you into his chest. “You’ve always had a big heart, Goldie. You’ll be okay.”

           “Goldie?” You chuckle, giving John a funny look. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

           “Do you not like it?”

           “No, I’ve missed it,” you reply sheepishly. “Thank you for letting me be dramatic.”

           “Anytime,” he pats your shoulder. “I’ve gotta go to work now, but you’re welcome to stay and raid the fridge. I just did the shopping yesterday.”

           “Ooh, did you get my favorite biscuits?”

           He smiles. “Yes. Top shelf.”

           “Yes! Thank you!” You grin, jumping up from the couch to run into the kitchen. You turn around from the counter, going back to the where John is. “Have fun at work.”

           John shakes his head at your animated nature, but nonetheless grateful that you’ve gotten it back. It seems to be the first time in years since you’ve been this way, and he knows why, but he’s glad to see this side of you back.

[stefanreyes]

› [ MICHAEL TREVINO / CIS MALE ] ┊ STEFAN REYES ― This TWENTY-NINE-YEAR-OLD SUPERNATURAL ( WITCH ) is AGAINST the humans. HE has lived in Marion for BORN HERE/ RETURNED FEW MONTHS AGO in the GREENWILLOW APARTMENTS neighborhood, working as a PARAMEDIC. There are no winners in this war, and HE is NOT AT RISK of losing the supernatural war.

↳ BASICS.

FULL NAME: Stefan Reyes

AGE: 29

GENDER & SEXUALITY: Cis male & Pansexual

HEIGHT & WEIGHT: 6′ & 81kg

SPECIES: Witch

GIVEN POWER: Life & Death Manipulation

HOUSING: Currently resides at Greenwillow Apartments, Family home is at Edgewater Orchard.

HOMETOWN: Born and raised at Marion. Moved to New York for a few years before returning in 2019.

OCCUPATION: Paramedic and co-owner of Ambrosia Apothecary

↳ FAMILY.

PARENTS: Alejandro Reyes ( Deceased )  &  Leticia Reyes née Hernandez ( Deceased )

SIBLINGS: Maria Reyes ( Deceased )

DAUGHTER: Belle Rose-Reyes

OTHERS: Chloe Reyes - cousin, Leandra Reyes - aunt, Sawyer Rose - Belle’s mother

↳ VIEWS.

WITCHES: He may not openly say that witches as a species are superior to others, but he does believe that. After all they do have powers the other species could only dream of.

WEREWOLVES & VAMPIRES: The abilities of these creatures are something he’s always been interested in and he likes to study their powers and harness it for his own use.

HUNTERS & HUMANS: Don’t really care about what they do as long as they don’t cross his path.

↳ STORY.

Stefan was born and raised in Marion, son of two powerful witches, Alejandro & Leticia, whose ancestry went back centuries. But their magical line didn’t stay all magical -- his mother’s family had a secret which she did not even share with her husband. With one of her ancestors having married and procreated with a human centuries ago against the will of his coven, the witches cursed him in their anger and since then the magical line had been tainted, so to speak -- several of the descendants in the family being born with no magic in their blood at all. It was a secret well-guarded within the family though. These non-magical children were often killed or sent away where nobody knew them, stories fabricated to hide what really happened to them. It  was what happened to Leticia’s brother too, which meant that she had a lot on the line when she had children with the power-hungry Alejandro Reyes. When all she wanted was a family, her husband wanted nothing but power and fame, to make a name for themselves in the world -- which he did. And when they had children, they were mere pawns to him, not to be loved but to be used, trophies to bring glory to the family name and carry on his legacy.

As a child, he was cared for very little. And if he had been cared for, he didn’t remember much. Long time ago, he had an older sister. He had been five and she had been twelve. Her name was Maria and there wasn’t much he remembered of her. There were few memories, where she played with him and they laughed. And then he remembered his sister’s screaming, always her screaming. He didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t know that at twelve the girl still had no magic and his father didn’t want her, not when she seemed like she would grow to be a mere human. It wasn’t long after that Stefan attended the funeral of his mother and sister. A tragic accident, they said, but he knew deep down as he grew up that it was no accident -- it was his father’s doing.

After that it was just him and his father, with no love lost between them, but Stefan chose to keep his home life a secret. He didn’t share with a soul what had happened to the rest of his family and lived his life outside of his home as a different person. An outgoing boy who easily got along with people, but he had a dark secretive side – despite everything, he enjoyed using magic, especially in a manner which hurt others. He may not be able to control his father, but he could control everyone else if he liked. He loved how powerful it made him feel and he didn’t care who he hurt in the process of getting familiar which his powers. 

It was when he was sixteen that he figured out what his given power was. He chose not to speak of it to his father, instead working by himself to perfect it. It was the power to play with life and death itself, and many fell victim to his trying to master this new power – and finally when he was twenty, he had perfected it enough for him to resurrect someone who had died many years ago. After perfecting a plan to run away from town, he brought back his sister, but he hadn’t anticipated how much of his strength that piece of magic would consume -- he was too weak to bring his mother back to life too. Stefan knew that his father would be furious when he came to know of him bringing Maria back. And he was bound to lose his sister again if he stayed to get strong enough to bring his mother back too. And so he bid goodbye to his mother and left for New York with just Maria, having no intention of returning to Marion ever again.

New York proved to be a fresh start not just for Maria but for him too. Granted, it was hard to settle at first. He had to drop out of Med school to spend his time taking care of Maria who was only a child, and a mess since her return. But once she began to get better, it was all worth it. It was a while before he could think about his career again -- he considered going back to Med school but that just seemed impractical now and so instead he joined as a student paramedic. Things seemed to move smoothly, and while he always had the fear at the back of his mind that his father would find them, he never did and with time passing, Stefan began to relax.

But his father did come for her one day, and Stefan lost his sister all over again but this time he made sure that his father paid. With his life being turned upside down after the death of Maria last February, Stefan has been doing his best to cope. After the initial few weeks of spiraling, he took to traveling, working at several medical camps overseas. Returning to New York where there were too many memories of Maria was not what he needed and so he instead moved back to Marion, in a attempt to move on from his sister’s death and to rebuild his life again.

↳ PERSONALITY.

Stefan may have been a timid kid at one time, but things were a lot different now. He had learnt early in life that being weak was not an option and while it took him years to fight back with his parents, he always made sure that outwardly he appeared strong to everyone, and then slowly learnt to grow strong himself. He is intelligent, charismatic and charming. His first instinct is always to be civil, if not friendly, with people. There is a very negative side to him too, a side which he learnt from his parents. He often overrides his instinct and can be very manipulative, use people for his own gain and throw them without a second thought. Although this is not something he would ever do to people he cares about. With his friends and loved ones, Stefan is the opposite of strong. He is caring and extremely protective, and would do literally anything for them. It might sometimes escalate to the point where he would do what he thinks is right for them, even if it is against their will. While Stefan does not have many weaknesses, his major weakness happens to be love itself, for he is easily manipulated by people he loves and trusts. With them he would be a pushover, letting them use him even when he knows clearly that he is being used. He has the tendency to get sucked into toxic relationships because of this. His biggest weakness of all had been his sister, keeping her safe and happy had been his biggest priority -- and when she died, Stefan spiraled. It had been months ago but only recently has Stefan come to finally accept her loss and begin to move on. He is hard working and ambitious, and despite his playful and carefree side, when it came to the real deal he is responsible and level-headed.

↳ TIMELINE.

Born: 2nd December 1990

Death of sister and mother: 12th June 1996

Resurrection of sister: 17th October 2010

Moved to New York: 18th October 2010

His daughter Belle’s birth: 11th July 2013

Maria’s killed again & his father’s death: 12th February 2019

Returned to Marion: 24th July 2019

↳ CONNECTIONS.

Baby Mama [ Sawyer Rose ] : Belle’s mother.

Child hood best friend [ open ] : Witch, approximately his age, who shares the same interest as him in magic. They knew each other since they were kids, and despite him not being in town a big chunk of the time, they’d still have kept in touch and would know everything about each other. 

Other friends [ open, multiple ] : Any species, level of friendship can be discussed and plotted, I am open to all ideas! Friends he knew in Marion or when he was in New York, or he met during one of his trips abroad. 

Connections through his daughter [ open, multiple ] : Belle’s baby sitters, School teachers, maybe witch who help the little girl learn magic. Those who take private classes for dance, art, music, karate etc. Belle is an active kid who wants to be involved in everything and Stefan would be happy to befriend her favourite teachers.

Colleagues [ Marley Evans, open, multiple ] : Other paramedics and EMTs, firefighters, doctors and nurses at the hospital etc.

Exes & flings [ open, multiple ] : It can range from just a one night stand or a long term flings, friends with benefits,enemies with benefits, exes in good terms & bad, I am open to anything here, as wild and dramatic as you want to go.  

People who owe him [ Ryder, open, multiple ] : He can get devious with methods to repay him for favours he does for people. He owns an apothecary and can craft just about any spell people may want from him, as long as they are ready to pay his price.

I will think of more, but if there’s anything else you need, I am open to exploring!!

↳ TAGS.

Clever as the devil and twice as pretty ( visage )

They won’t break me but they will fear me ( musings )

[hillywooddestiel]

The Real Royal Highness

Characters: Tom Hiddleston x reader, Matteo (ofc), reader’s parents, Neil (ofc)

Warnings: fluff, teensy bit of angst

Word count: 2.6k (Woah!)

@bemyqueenofdarkness asked:

Hey! I saw that your requests were open so.. Here is one! How about a Tom Hiddleston x Reader, where the reader is part of the royal british family, which was always treated different, like a royal, but she only wants to be famous for his classic singing and treated like everyone else. So what if Tom meets her in one of her concerts in some high society event, and fells in love with her voice, and without knowing who she really is, goes to talk to her.. (I will send another ask with the rest )

Hi again! (?) So when Tom goes to talk to her, she thinks he is going to be like every other man that just interested in her title, but Tom proves her wrong, and the reader realize that he doesn’t know who she really is, so at the end she accepts the invitation to a date from Tom and doesn’t tell him the truth until their date its finally over, and idk, its ends all fluffy and stuff? So.. That its, I hope you really like it, feel free to change whatever you want, and I love your writing! Bye<3

A/N: Another request! I had a lot of fun with this one hence the massive fic. I’ve wanted to write Tom Hiddleston for the longest time so I think this is a good place to start. Also, I have a challenge on right now but only one entry so far so if you would like to enter please message me. Another thing, this fic could be set at any time but for the purposes of a smaller age gap it is set in 2012 xx Masterlist

Story:

I stare blankly into my own eyes in the mirror, lost in my own mind, whilst my stylist braids my hair into the perfectly regal updo to match with my simple yet elegant (and most importantly, rule abiding) makeup. And it all has to flow with the gown that I’ve had fitted: sky blue with a floral detailed bodice and a silk organza train falling from the off-shoulder sleeves. Mother had to approve it all first, of course. Check that no royal faux pas was being made.

“Perfetto mia cara!” Matteo spritzes my hair one last time with hairspray with a wide grin. I can only smile meekly in return, my nerves getting the better of me. He notices, having stared at and studied my face in the mirror for most of my life, and squeezes my shoulder encouragingly. “You have the voice of an angel my darling, they will love you.”

“It’s not my voice that I’m worried about.”

“I know, it is daunting, yes. But, you have been raised for this and I know for a fact that you are ready. And don’t tell the others but you are the most gorgeous princess around.” Matteo assures me, giggling a little. He’s right, about being raised for this. I’ve had lessons from the age of two on public etiquette and persuading the people to like me, it’s just that my time in the spotlight has come much later than most others in the family.

My family are not in direct line for the throne. Far from it. In fact, I think that my father is 15th in line and I come in behind at 16th. For this reason, my family are rarely in the public eye which in turn means that I am pretty much a mystery to most people. They heard the news when I was born and bought the gossip magazines with the first few photos of my childhood but then I dropped off the radar- until now. Mother (and a couple of my uncles and aunties) decided that 26 years was long enough for me to stay quiet and so tonight is a debutante ball of sorts. I will be presented to both my wider family and the world press this evening as Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, eldest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of York and eligible for marriage. That last part, I’m not happy about at all. I’ve barely travelled, I haven’t done most things that other 26 year olds have like clubbing or going to music festivals and I never got the chance to pursue my real dream of being a world class singer.

As a young child, I fell in love with classical music and the opera as well as musicals and playing the piano. I loved music. Mother would sit in her armchair with my baby sister in her knee as I played the family’s grand piano and Father and I would sing the duet. It was like something out of a cheesy Christmas movie. I always wanted to perform though, following in the footsteps of Catherine Jenkins and Maria Callas. However, being royalty meant that I could never do it. I wasn’t allowed to drop everything ‘just to sing’ as Mother put it. It took weeks of begging and convincing before she said yes to me singing tonight. Still, the dream lives on within me.

“Sweet pea, it’s me.” Mother taps on the door. I open it myself, watching the tears well up in her eyes as she looks at me. “Darling, you look wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you Mother. Is it time to start?”

“Almost. Many of the guests are arriving just now so we’ll wait a few minutes before finally introducing you. Are you ready?”

“I think so. Father’s not making a speech is he?” I ask with a moan, having suffered through many of them in the past.

“I would imagine so, yes.” She laughs, opening her arms to give me a hug.

“I love you.” I whisper, holding onto her tightly like in a little child again.

“I love you too sweet pea.”

“Are you ready?” The conductor approaches me and I can only nod. There are a lot of people in the ballroom at the moment and they are all waiting on me to start my performance. The pianist gets seated whilst the string orchestra run their bows along the strings to warm up, the choir take their places and the conductor takes his place behind his music stand. Fiddling nervously with my own hands, I step up to the microphone, all eyes seemingly turning to me. It’s now or never. The first bars of Habanera begin to play and I count them in my head, listening and waiting for my cue to begin. And when I do… it’s like all of my nerves dissipate. I close my eyes eyes and pour all of my emotions into the song without hesitation, getting lost in the music and just having fun with the uplifting beat. I even manage to smile. I finish the final note on a high, raising my arms in the air with a grin from ear to ear. Everybody in the ballroom immediately erupts into applause, thankfully. A little girl walks up to me and hands me a large bouquet of red roses. I thank her before promptly joining my parents and sister.

In need of some fresh air, I make my way outside to the gardens. They’re always beautiful at nighttime with candles flickering in hanging glass lanterns and reflecting off of the many ponds and fountains, wildflowers lining the paths in perfect disorder, fruit trees releasing their blossom into the air like pink snow getting ready to grow their crops and a peaceful silence after all the wildlife has gone to bed.

“Pardon me, might I join you?” An unfamiliar voice asks from behind. It’s a young man, possibly my age or maybe a little older, with short blond curls and stunning blue eyes. He’s tall and friendly looking, a sharp black tuxedo fitted to his slender body. My memory isn’t the best but his face is far from generic.

“Of course you may.” I flash him a charming smile, not too much teeth as Mother would have scolded me for.

“You were beautiful earlier, your singing. Your voice is very impressive for someone so young.” he compliments me, nothing I haven’t heard before, not to sound narcissistic. They tell me I should tour the world and share my talent with the world like that’s not what I’ve been trying to do for the past ten years.

“Thank you, you’re very kind.” My response sounds a little flat.

“Sorry for the terrible ice breaker. I’m Tom.” He reaches out a hand for me to shake. Now that can only mean one thing. Normally, anyone of a lower status must address me as ‘your Highness’ and bow. Everyone else at this event has done so for they now know who I am. Tom must not know who I am.

This is fantastic! Somebody genuine to talk to. I can ignore all of that formal nonsense and just talk like a human being, that’s all I’ve ever wanted!

“It’s nice to meet you Tom. I’m Y/N.” Still no realisation. How clueless is he?

“What a beautiful name!” He smiles sweetly, stepping closer to stand next to me, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, ask away.”

“What is this evening celebrating? I have no idea.” What?! How can he not know? This is good though. I can keep him in the dark for a little longer. Lying is never a good thing but in this case, I think I’ll allow an exception.

“It is a musical showcase of sorts, I suppose. May I ask how you could possibly be here without the faintest clue of what is happening?” I turn to look into those magical eyes of his. I imagine in better lighting I would be able to see him blushing to match with his adorably shy smile.

“Truthfully, I was invited last minute by a friend. I’ve been out of the country for a long time and he called to ask me to join him. Never told me what the event was, my only instruction was to dress extremely formally.” Tom gestures to the tuxedo, fiddling with the bow tie for emphasis. Knowing who he is, I can only assume that the trip abroad involved film cameras and all the glitz and glamour of Hollywood.

“How thrilling. Is this your first time in the presence of royalty?” I can’t help but smirk at the irony of my question.

“No. Though it is my first at a royal residence. Previously my meetings with them have been at theatres and benefits. What about yourself?” he now asks me a question, a genuine look of curiosity in his eyes.

“I have been known to entertain members of the royal family quite regularly actually.”

“I can understand why. You really are a remarkable performer.” Now it is my turn to blush, knowing that he truly means it and there is no ulterior motive at play.

“Thank you, you are very kind. Would you like to continue this conversation on a walk around the gardens? They really are quite lovely.”

“I would be honoured.”

I have never been so excited in all my life! Tom actually asked me to dinner at the end of the evening and here I am in the car, driving to the restaurant like a normal person. Well, half normal: I’m not actually driving myself, the driver is, we’re in an incognito black car and there’s a personal guard in the front passenger seat who will be watching the whole evening from across the venue but other than that, this is the most normal my life will probably ever get. Mother was hesitant to let me go at first meanwhile Father couldn’t have been more thrilled (he’s always been excited at the prospect of grandchildren). The restaurant comes into view through the blacked out windows and the butterflies go wild within my stomach. Neil, the guard, leaps out and opens my door with a small bow before following me inside, close enough to protect me but not too close to arouse any suspicion. As promised, Tom is there waiting for me in the foyer.

“Y/N, you look wonderful!” He greets me with a kiss to the cheek, referring to my dress of choice for the evening.

“So do you. Shall we get to our table?”

“Yes let’s.”

Dinner is as close to perfect as I think it can be. Tom is charming, the food is delicious and if it weren’t for Neil watching from the corner table I think we’d be doing more than just occasionally holding hands. It’s nothing flashy like a horse ride through the gardens and I don’t have my parents watching from the balcony- it’s just so normal. I’ve been on very few dates so I have very little experience with the kind of small talk that’s expected but Tom more than makes up for it. We just click instantly and the topic of conversation flows with ease from work to upbringings to where we want to travel. I never really have to lie about myself, I just leave out some of the truth that would lead to him figuring out who I really am. I never want tonight to end.

Tom walks with me to the foyer, draping my coat over my shoulders and holding onto my hand. Neil gets up shortly after we do, following four feet behind us.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, thank you.”

“I did too. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if we could do this again.” Tom mentions coyly.

“Are you asking me on a second date Mr Hiddleston?” I reciprocate his playful attitude.

“I believe I am.”

“Your Highness, I don’t mean to disturb you but we have a problem.” Neil interrupts, a worrying feeling washing over me in an instant.

“What is it?” I ask him, ignoring Tom for a moment.

“Your Highness?” He parrots in bewilderment; so much for keeping him in the dark.

“Paparazzi spotted outside. Lots of them. The car is parked out the back, we’ll have to go that way.”

“Alright, let’s go.” I sigh. Why do the press have to come and ruin my evening?

We hurry to the car via the kitchens, myself dragging Tom by the hand so that he doesn’t get lost. He’s gone rather quiet which is a little concerning- I hope that he isn’t upset with me. As promised, the car is ready and waiting with the door already opened. Neil ushers myself and Tom into the back before taking his seat in the front.

“Why did he refer to you as your Highness?”

“Because it is a rule that all staff hired by my parents must follow. I don’t really care for it myself.” I explain, trying to remain calm despite the nerves fluttering in my chest.

“Rule? You’re royalty?!” he raises his voice a little, getting rather hysterical for a minute.

“Yes. It’s fine that you didn’t know, hardly anyone did until the ball. It was too re-introduce me to society and to the public eye.”

“You’re Lady Y/N of York…”

“Correct.”

“Wow…” Tom takes a second to think, sinking back into his seat. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because when I tell people, it’s all they want to talk about, it’s all they see me as. You’re the first person to ever treat me as just an ordinary person.” I confess, staring down at our still intertwined hands. It’s true, whenever I’ve told somebody that I’m of royal descent they change how they are around me immediately and the conversation turns fake. Or they’ll come knowing what I am and they won’t care about me, just the title they could potentially procure from marrying me.

“… Well… I’ve gotten to know the real you tonight and she’s wonderful.”

My driver takes us back to my home, a normal sight for me but I imagine it’s quite daunting for Tom. I squeeze his hand in encouragement as I spot Father stood by the front doors. Neil opens my door again and I step out, bringing Tom with me.

“Darling, are you alright?” Father comes closer, sweeping me into a hug and I have to let go of Tom’s hand for a moment.

“I’m fine daddy, honestly.” I reassure him as he places a kiss on my head.

“And who is this young man?” he spots Tom shuffling from foot to foot behind me.

“This is Tom. My date from this evening.”

“A pleasure to meet you, your Highness.” He nods his head and shakes Father’s hand warmly.

“It’s good to meet you too. I’ve arranged a car for you to take you back to your own home. Between you and me, the beds in this house are a little uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Tom laughs, glancing to me. Father bids us both goodnight before turning inside.

“I think he likes you.” I giggle, standing in front of Tom.

“So is there still a chance of a second date?” he asks. I gaze up at him before leaning up on my tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Most definitely, yes.”

[eaurthly]

Miles Away

a/u where you and harry are best friends who met from studying abroad and you begin to fall in love with him but don’t believe he feels the same. This is a rough draft and probably sucks so. sorry oops

Part i.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in your University of Manchester sweatshirt when you passed your vanity on the way to the bathroom this morning. It was late October and being back in Boston meant it was the perfect weather for you to be able to live in this sweatshirt again. It still had a faint smell of Tom Ford's Tobacco Vanille cologne on it when you held it really close to your nose, and after studying at Manchester it was one of your favorite scents in the world. If you looked closely, you could see a faint "H" written in sharpie on the tag which always made you smile and wear it for weeks at a time without washing it. Harry had given you this sweatshirt as a going away present, but secretly you think he did it just so you wouldn't forget him, because you didn't know the next time it would be that you'd see each other.  

It had been a little bit over a year since you had gotten home from Manchester following a year-long study abroad program. Being a communications major allowed for a wide range of opportunities for you to experiment in your academics and being able to travel to new places was something you'd dreamed about since the age of 14 when you found yourself growing tired of every single family vacation being at the same beach you had grown up around.  

Ironically enough, after you finished your year abroad in the spring, you and Harry spent a mere 6 months apart before he spent the following spring semester in Boston with you, this time being able to explore your hometown just as he was able to show you around his. Manchester was a dream you quite very well did not want to wake up from. Spending an entire year there was almost a blur, the only thing that reminded you of going was your ongoing friendship with Harry – which to your surprise, hadn't faded after you left. Being around someone constantly for a year seems like both a very long time but also an extremely short time. You had always believed friendships in college allowed people to bond faster and harder being that everyone was in such close proximity 24/7, your friendship with Harry validated this theory even more.  

You had met through mutual friends, it was a simple story. You only knew your roommate, being that this was a completely different country and she was very eager to make you more friends. You couldn’t tell if it was because she wanted to get you out of your dorm room so she could shag her older, greasy boyfriend or if it was because she felt bad and wanted to help you out. At this point she was only a freshman while you were a sophomore, but she seemed like the older one. Her boyfriend was neighbors with a tall, curly headed boy named Harry and they had always gone out together on the weekends which is why you found him knocking on your door one Friday evening. You had just gotten out of the shower and had a towel wrapped around your head and wore ripped up clothes for your pajamas. He looked a bit startled when you opened the door, as if he didn't expect it would be you who was on the other side. He stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets shyly amidst his outgoing physical features. He was dressed in tight black jeans and a low-cut, white, short sleeved button-up. It was very simple yet some how he looked like he had put a lot of thought into it. His hair wasn't short, but it wasn't long - it as perfectly in the middle. You could tell that his hair was curly, but they didn't consume his head. It was another feature of his that looked effortlessly put together.  

"oh! er- hey, you're Talia's roommate right? ...y/n, is it?" He said so smoothly somehow against the awkward air with a Cheshire accent so thick you almost had to ask him to repeat himself.

"uh, yeah" you said in your rich American accent, "lemme go grab her for you." 

But before you finished your sentence he was gracefully stepping into your dorm leaning forward with his shoulder and dominant leg. You would have been alarmed if it was anyone else who had just invited themselves into your room but you had seen him around enough to know he was proper friends with Talia.  

He was still standing near your doorway as you went to knock on the bathroom door to signal to Talia he was here to take her to her boyfriends so they could all go out. It was quite nice for you though because typically, she'd end up getting so drunk that she'd spend the night at his place and you'd have the apartment all to yourself.  

"hey, she'll be out in a second. She's just finishing getting ready." You screamed as you walked to the doorway in your overly baggy clothes, approaching Harry to let him know. He just gave you a wide-eyed nod as you continued on and sat down at your desk.  

It was only quiet for a quick second before Harry came up behind you and said; "By the way I didn't really properly introduce myself, I'm Harry."

He held his hand out like he wasn't quite sure what else to do at this moment. You were wondering why he hadn't introduced himself at the door like a normal person, but he seemed a bit tipsy and out of place.  

"oh hi, I'm y/n" you quietly mumbled back, "well actually wait – you already know my name... oh." You said, as you let out a little laugh that indicated you were a bit embarrassed since he had already asked your name before he came in. He just smiled back at you.

"so, why 're ya out here all towel-ed up in 'ere! We gotta go out soon to leave!" You knew was definitely tipsy now, by the fact his sentences were starting to repeat themselves.

"We...?" You let out, shocked.  

"Well, yea! Didn't Talia tell you..." He didn't wait for you to answer before he continued what he was saying, "maybe she didn't, I actually don't think there was plans to invite you. But I'm here now and ya look quite bored, so I'm telling ya that ya have'ta come out with us. There's no other option."  

You looked quite puzzled as to why this person you barely know was insisting you go out with them, but he wasn't very forceful about it, he just seemed like a drunk guy who didn't want to see a bored girl killing the buzz.  

"You look a bit confused." He had picked up the expression on your face you thought you had clearly hidden.

"Only because I'm not really sure how I can get ready for a night out in under ten minutes." you sarcastically snapped.

"Like this!" Harry said joyfully as if he had it all under control. "Take this towel off, dry your hair, and I'll pick out your outfit," he paused as he walked over to your closet and started. rummaging through your clothes.

It was quite odd, you had seen him around a few times and he initially seemed very intimidating. You weren't quite sure if it was his broad shoulders or the way he carried himself, but he just seemed like someone who was very well liked by everyone, and that quality alone made it terrifying to look at him, in fear he would notice before you had a chance to look away. But then you see the same long-legged man fiddling with the hangers in your closet to try and put together an outfit for you, and he seems the complete opposite. Having a stranger go through your entire wardrobe wasn't something that would've happened in high school, but being here at uni, this moment was one which started a new friendship. Whatever was happening in this moment felt natural, in a sense – almost like you shouldn't stop him from what he was doing. And as awkward as the conversation seemed to have started, it had a rigid flow to it, which absentmindedly made you smile.

"ahhghh, here!" He smiled as he held up a maroon, sheer button-up, long sleeved blouse and a black leather skirt.

"It took you that long to come up with that?" You jokingly poked at him, "Besides, ya gotta find something for me to wear under that shirt."

"But do I?" He tilted his head as his voice gradually raised an octave, "we're going to the club! I've seen girls wear a lot worse" he paused, "and a lot less."  

You rolled your eyes as you playfully grabbed the clothes out of his hands and walked to the bathroom to change.  

Upon walking out, you found him sitting down at your desk waiting with his head in his hands.  

"Starting to crash already?" You questioned.

"Just waitin for you and Tali." He assured with his eyes half closed, until he caught a glimpse of you, "you look really nice," he paused," but not in like a weird, creepy way. Maroon is just a good color for everyone."  

"Well, you drive a hard bargain, so I couldn’t argue with your choices for me since I seem to be letting someone I don't know that well convince me to go out."

He just chuckled.

"Well it seems to be working! Besides all of us are very close and I'm a bit surprised Tali hasn't invited you out with us yet. You seem like you'd fit in with us all too well."

"I guess we'll see how tonight goes then. Even though it's a bit unlike me to agree to go out." You didn’t want to tell him why because you'd seem like a bore, it's just that every time you go out you never actually have fun and regret every second of it.

But before your conversation could continue, Talia finally walks out and it's time to leave. For some reason, you feel very comfortable with everything that's been happening, and it's not in your nature to do so. If it were any other stranger, what had transpired before you all left would have went down differently, but Harry carried himself with a certain poise that made him completely approachable after he initially talked to you. It almost felt like you two were old friends who got along well, but just had a lot of catching up to do. And as sex driven as most uni boys were, it didn't come off as if he was flirting with you, but just taking part in playful banter, and that's what made it feel as though you're old pals. With not having many friends in high school, let alone male friends, you'd imagine this would feel completely foreign to you. Except, it was the complete opposite.  

The club night was nothing special, it was just the introduction of your friendship, but that doesn't mean it wasn’t proper fun. It was the kind of fun you hoped being at Manchester would give you. Harry convinced you to do shots with him all night and you danced around each other laughing at how your moves continuously got worse. It was refreshing. Not only to have a night out, but also because most of the guys who want to hang out in clubs prefer to end the night with getting in your pants and with Harry, he was just with you to have a good time.  

                -------------------------------------------------------------------

The following months brought the two of you closer than you've felt with anybody besides your family. Talia's boyfriend was always over, and Harry made sure he came with him, just so you didn't have to sit and third-wheel alone. You'd all just hang out and watch movies when you weren't going out on the weekends. But having those late nights with people create memories that you'll always have to laugh about down the road. You remembered this one time, Harry got so drunk, he started running through the sprinklers at three in the morning and decided to fall asleep under your dining room table, insisting that you put blankets all over it so he could turn it into his fort, yelling at you to tell him the secret password so you could come in. He was always a character.  

Harry was an English major, which made it quite ironic that the two of you ended up in a French class together spring semester, where he excelled, and you... very much did the opposite. You had to beg him to help you every night. Which neither of you secretly minded because it allowed the two of you to spend more time together. It was seemingly platonic but that doesn't mean you didn't love spending time with him, even if it meant he had to spend hours repeating the same phrase to you in French hoping that eventually you'd understand.  

"La fille a un meilleur ami beau. La fille a un meilleur ami beau." He repeated. "Now, what did I say?"

"Damn if I know, the girl... has a.... something. That's all I understand. What does she have, what are you telling me she has? You began to get flustered.  

"oh, ma cherie," he softly said, almost like a mother staring lovingly at her daughter who has no clue what was going on. "You'll have to practice if you want to know!"  

Needless to say, you barely passed French that year, which was quite ironic because Paris was the next city to visit on your list.  

The year you spent at Manchester flew by, and it wouldn't have if Harry wasn't by your side. You didn't look too deeply into your friendship, except to realize it was the first one for you that felt completely reciprocated. Everything you gave to Harry he seemed to give right back to you. He was the first one you called when you needed help when you found yourself stranded on transit and had no clue how to get home and was the first you called when you wanted to grab a quick bite to eat but didn't want to go alone. You found him strolling into your room after his classes with lunch in his hand and sitting down at your desk without saying a word because he wanted to eat lunch in the company of someone other than his television, and you were the first person he told all of his good news to, besides his mother of course. You enjoyed his presence, even if it did come with a heavy cloud of Tobacco Vanille that wrapped around him like a blanket. It was an amazing smell. You had always thought too much of any scent could get overbearing, but you became accostummed to the smell he had – so much, that most of your clothes began to smell the same. But before you knew it, it was July and you were gearing up to leave. Uni ended in April but your lease wasn't finished until July. Leaving was more of a bitter than it was sweet. You had grown so close to Harry that, even without dating. He knew so much of you and you knew so much of him, that even people you didn't know, had the presumption you two were dating and failed to believe that a guy and girl could be best friends.  

                          ----------------------------------------------------------

There was one night, about a week before you left, that you and Harry found yourselves laying on opposite sides of your bed staring aimlessly at the ceiling to avoid the fact you had to start packing to leave.  

"I don't want you to go y/n." He whined a bit.  

"I mean, me either, but it's not very realistic for me to just stay here." You had to reality check him.

"I know, but who is going to split all my meals with me after class? Who's going to give you fashion advice?" He tried to poke at you, as a reminder of the night you became friends. As for the meals, you two almost always shared one when you went out, down to the drinks. Portions were large, and it would be a waste to get two separate meals, so in your eyes you two were just effectively saving some money. In hindsight this may be one of the factors that led everyone to believe the two of you were dating.  

"Well... I don't think half a meal being sent to Boston would actually last. And if you're really worried about my half-witted fashion choices, just give me a call before class. Problem solved." You said, as if that really did solve all your problems, but you just brushed the rest of them off.  

"yeah I know... it's weird. I almost forgot that ya don't even live here. Just because you've been here for so long." He paused. "I reminded my mum 'bout it the other day. She told me ta say she'd miss 'avin an extra stomach t' feed since Gemma moved out, said she's losin' anotha daughter."  

If there was one thing you'd miss more than Harry, it was Anne. She was almost like another mother to you, especially since your actual mother was thousands of miles away. She always invited the two of you to have home-cooked meals and surprised you with your favorite cake for your birthday. Every time you left her presence, it was clearer to you where Harry got his charm from, she was the nicest woman you had ever met.  

"I think I'll miss your mom more than you" you said waiting to get a reaction out of him.

"'eah, I'm sure you will ya old lady."  

After that, there was a bit of comfortable silence as Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" played quietly in the background. You found yourself alarmed for being so sad that you were leaving but continued to remind yourself that leaving a place you've grown to love would be hard for anyone. You were just afraid of missing Harry and what that would bring up in your mind. You hadn't thought about him in any way other than platonic, there hadn't been a need to, but something in your gut tells you that's going to change, and you won't have any say over it. But for the time being, it was best to appreciate the days you had left together, you and your best friend, before you set foot on that plane to go home.  

Harry broke the silence by saying, "'ey wait, I got something for ya." It seemed as though he was thinking about saying that for a little while, but didn't quite know when the right time to say it was.  

He got up and walked over to his bag, which was a leather satchel that was a bit beat up, being it was a few years old. He pulled out a glob of deep red fabric, but it could have passed as Maroon.  

"I want ya to 'ave it." He said, revealing what was in his hands. It was a maroon University of Manchester sweatshirt, one that he wore almost every day in the colder months.

"Harry" you said, not really knowing what to say next, considering you were terrible at accepting nice gestures from other people.

"I know it's yer favorite, especially considerin that one time it disappeared for two weeks and you 'ad it the whole time!"  

He was right. It was your favorite. It was just the right amount of baggy to where you didn't look like a bloated mess, but instead, an extremely casual comfy. It smelled exactly like him, which happened to be one of your favorite smells in the world. Tobacco Vanille almost seemed like a pair that shouldn't go together but after smelling it, it blended so perfectly that you can't imagine them not being together. It was musky, but not so musky that it was overpowering. The vanilla and sweeter side canceled the tobacco out. It was warm and spicy, but also sweet and sappy. You found it strange to describe a scent as comforting but that's exactly what this scent was to you. It was mild, and a bit warm, to the point where it felt mesmerizing and comforting – and the fact that this scent was soaked into the most comfortable sweatshirt in the world meant more to you than you think Harry knew. It was such a small gesture, but you found yourself constantly thinking about it.

"Thank you." You said as you reached up to him and hugged him, burying you head in the crook of his neck.

"Of course, ma cherie" he muttered back.

"You with that French again, you know I don't understand a word."  

"Oh, I know." He said back smartly, as if he knew he could say whatever he wanted to you in French, since you would have no clue what he was saying. It seemed like something he was going to use to his advantage.  

"Anyways," he chimes in, "we betta' start packing ya up girl, or you'll never get out of here."  

                     ---------------------------------------------------------

A week later you found yourself carrying your bags down to Harry's car, wearing that sweatshirt of his even though it was the middle of July, and headed to the airport. The car ride wasn't anything out of the ordinary, in fact, it was so normal, it made it harder to leave. Even hours before you were headed back to the states you and Harry were continuing to laugh over his bad impersonations and jokes and singing the songs you mutually loved. You were going to miss this, and perhaps a little bit too much. A year growing with somebody by your side is such an interesting amount of time. To some people it feels like forever and to some it feels like no time at all. To you it felt like both. Harry felt like a part of you after the time you'd spent together and even though it was only a year, it felt like forever. At least you wanted it to be forever. Going home to practically no one, was going to be a very harsh reality after living one of the best years of your life. You were living in another country, being submersed into a new culture and seeing parts of the world you never imagined seeing, and, you met a soulmate along the way. "Soul mate," wasn't being used in the typical romantic sense, because, you had always heard soul mates came in friendships too. You just didn't believe it until you met Harry.  

When the two of you arrived at the airport, Harry insisted he walked with you up until you had to step on the plane, and you'd figure it'd be easier to not convince him otherwise.  

"alright Harry. This is as far as you can go." You warned him, getting ready to board your plane home.

"Come 'ere" he said quickly before grabbing you swiftly in the tightest bear hug you've ever felt. Somehow that was all it took for you to instantly start sobbing, and it wasn't quick before Harry caught on.

"heyyyy, 'ey, petit fleur, you gotta stop this fore I start cryin too" he said with his green eyes looking even more bloodshot and a bit more glassy than before.

"y-you're... I'm sitting here, crying a-and you're still speaking French" you try to convey with a bit of a joking tone, but it just seems pathetic being that you still found yourself crying in his arms.

"I'm only a phone call away" he says as he holds your shoulders and makes sure to look directly into your eyes, as a way of letting you know that he means it.

Wiping away tears you snap back into reality and say, "So am I. Always."

He pulls you back into a quick hug before you have to leave.

"hey, y/n... I love you, bucket head."

"I love you too." You smiled back.  

It wasn't weird for the two of you to say I love you, because you did love each other. You loved him for showing you how to live spontaneously and enjoy life a little more and he loved you for always having his back. But this time saying it felt different. It didn't feel different coming from him, but it felt different coming from your mouth. Something changed when you told him you loved him before getting on your flight back home and to be honest, you weren't quite sure what it was. Whatever you were feeling was something foreign, you had nothing to compare it too and felt a pit in your stomach that wouldn't fade. The only chance of you figuring it out would be to write it out, something Harry taught you to do more of, and with a 9 hour flight ahead of you, you had nothing but time.  

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The First Time (In London) - Dave Hodgman x Reader

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Dave Hodgman x Reader

Author’s Note: Being that @maddie110201 and @ninja-stiles are two of my favorite human beings and they are hosting a Dave Hodgman Week, I naturally had to participate. I haven’t actually seen the movie, but they’re my girls, you know? You do what you gotta do for your people. This is my attempt at Dave. I hope you all enjoy :)

Additional Note: I have said it once, I’ll say it a thousand times, I will never write any Dylan character as anything less than a rabid Mets fan. It’s just how it goes.

Warnings: I don’t know, don’t read it if you’re afraid of flying?

"Oh.. no.. please don't put that there.. it's closed.. for a reas...." You sighed as you stood up, leaning your head to the side as to not bash it on the low ceilings.

"Uh, umm.. but, uhhh..."

You sighed again, more exasperated than anything else. You could always easily spot someone who didn't fly as often as you did. "Is it heavy?" You stared at his backpack in his hand.

"No." He shook his head, a sweet 'puppy dog who had just gotten whacked over the nose with a newspaper' look gracing his handsome face.

"Can I?" You held your hand out, barely touching one of the straps on his bag. He nodded and let go of it. You judged the weight and deemed it as not that heavy. You handed it back to him and sat back down in your seat. "Can you just close the compartment again after you put it up there?" He nodded and lifted the bag over his head. Please don't let him sit next to me. I cannot be stuck on a plane with this idiot for twelve hours. Please, airline gods. I don't ask for much, just don't crash and kill me and don't let him sit down next to me.

He sat down next to you, and you rolled your eyes at the airline gods, hoping that that was the only promise that they would break that day. You went to place your headphones back over your ears when you heard his voice again. "What?" You said, pulling your headphones around the back of your neck, annoyed.

"I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to worry you about your guitar."

You sighed, less exasperated this time. You had been kind of rude. "It's fine. I'm sorry. I just, I fly a lot and it's like, my one prized possession and I literally buy tickets that allow me to board early so that I always have space to place it above and they can’t force me to check it below, and I'm always worried that someone is going to try to force a suitcase in there or something and like break the neck. I don't know. I'm sorry. I was rude."

As you were explaining to the stranger sitting next to you as to why you were so quick to snipe at him, a middle aged man in an ugly Hawaiian shirt opened the bin with your guitar and the stranger’s backpack and began moving the backpack and lifting his oversized luggage. The stranger who you were talking to stood up when he saw your face go back to its previously agitated state, staring off behind him. He turned and placed his hand on the suitcase before the middle aged white man could lift it fully off the ground.

"Hey, man. The bin was closed for a reason. There is an overhead compartment that is empty like right there." He pointed to a row behind them, and the man went to protest, but the stranger persisted. "No, dude, come on. You're going to damage my girlfriend's guitar. This compartment is full." He placed his hand on the bottom of the overhead cupboard and pushed up until he heard the latch click. He remained standing until the middle aged man huffed in annoyance, walked away and tried another compartment.

You were grinning from ear to ear as you watched the stranger sit back down next to you and buckle his seatbelt across his lap. You blushed and ran your fingers through your hair, suddenly trying to remember if you had decided to put in any effort in looking nice for this flight. You sort of had. "Well, if I am your girlfriend now, I should probably know your name."

"Dave. Dave Hodgman." He smiled, slight dimples indenting his cheeks.

You shook his hand, and introduced yourself. "Y/n Y/L/N." You smiled sheepishly. He was handsome and chivalrous and not quite what you thought when he first stepped into your life five minutes before. "So are you from L.A., Dave Hodgman?"

"I'm from California, but I'm a student at UCLA right now. What about you, Y/n Y/L/N?" He teased you, with a boyish smirk.

Your cheeks flushed with a more red than pink tone at his dry delivery and you went looking for something to focus your attention on. You grabbed the red airline blanket off the ground by your feet and began tearing at the plastic wrap around it. "I go to USC..." You crumpled the plastic wrap in your hand and stuffed it in the seatback pocket in front of you. "Why are you headed to London?"

"Study abroad. What about you?"

"Sort of the same. I, uh, got into like a music student exchange program with University of Oxford, outside of London."

Dave smiled and pointed up to your guitar in the cabinet above them. "Oh, so you're like, actually a musician. Me and that guy were trying to break your livelihood, basically?"

You snickered at his dry delivery. "Basically."

"Oxford? Holy shit, that's really cool. How long are you going to be staying for?" Dave asked, as he got shoved towards you by the older woman who sat down in the aisle seat next to him. He looked at you with disappointment on his face that the two of you were, in fact, not going to have the three-seater to yourselves for the flight, but then smiled gently when he felt your hand leave his bicep. You had grabbed him, out of instinct, from falling forwards when the woman had bumped into him. He blushed and readjusted in his seat, still leaning on the armrest between the two of you, his back turned to the other passenger.

"Six months. How about you?" You needlessly kneaded at the synthetic fabric of the blanket bundled up in your hands.

"Just until Christmas, and then it's another twelve hour flight back here." He watched as the flight attendant's closed the main cabin door and prepared for cross-check.

"That stinks. It would've been nice to have a friend out there before I even stepped off the plane."

"We could still be friends for the three months I'm there." Dave offered, blushing at the prospect of seeing the beautiful girl in front of him again.

"No, no, I don't think I could bear the heartbreak of you leaving me after all this time together." You threw your hand over your forehead, and feigned distress.

Dave chuckled, and smiled at how goofy and gregarious you were with someone that was basically a complete stranger. "It would be nice to know someone else right off the bat though.."

"Well, we'll see how the flight goes, maybe I'll wanna hang out with you again, maybe I won't." You were openly flirting at this point.

The flight had not filled all the way and there were entire rows that were empty throughout the plane. The woman that was sitting on the opposite side of Dave moved after takeoff, but until Dave left to use the restroom, he had remained sitting directly next to you, the two of you deep in conversation about music and movies and school.

About two hours into the flight, Dave got up to use the bathroom, and you scrambled to get your makeup bag out of your backpack below the seat in front of you. You quickly threw on a heavy sweeping of mascara, brushed some blush on your cheeks, and then a little extra because planes always washed you out, and covered the pimple growing on your hairline with some concealer. You saw him coming back and you stuffed the makeup bag back into your backpack. Dave smiled at you and narrowed his eyes as he walked back down the aisle behind the flight attendant with the beverage cart. Dave sat down in the aisle seat and your heart sunk a little.

"Something looks different about you?" Dave smirked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You had been caught. You changed the subject and looked at the flight attendant above you. "I'll have a gingerale please."

"Two, please." Dave interjected, and handed you your drink. "So where are we?" Dave asked, messing with the screen on the back of the headrest in front of him, trying to find the in-flight map.

"Somewhere over Colorado or Kansas or something. Not far at all."

Dave smiled. "Ten more hours to convince you to hang out with me after we land in Heathrow."

You blushed and drank your soda, wiggling your nose as the fizzy bubbles tickled your skin. "So, what made you want to study abroad?" You asked, easily finding your way back into comfortable conversation with him.

Dave fidgeted in his seat and contorted his face, staring down at the tiny bubbles fizzing out onto his veiny fingers that gripped his plastic cup of soda. "I was dating this girl for a little while, like seven months, nothing crazy, in my senior year of high school, and into the beginning of my first year at UCLA, but she was a year behind me and her being a senior and me being in college. It just didn't work out. She couldn't handle it."

"And that was recent..?" You asked, grimacing over him talking about an ex.

"No, no, that was last year. But, the point of me bringing her up, is that she asked me one night what I wanted to do with my life and I realized I wanted to see the world and travel, and just because the relationship ended, didn't mean I had to give up on that dream. So, I applied for the study abroad program, got accepted, and here I am.. making my first friend in London." Dave smirked at you and leaned his elbows against the arm rest in front of him. "Why'd you decide to come out here?"

"I've never really done much other than practice my music and fly all over the country performing it, and I kind of wanted to be stuck in one place for a while, getting new influences and learning from new people and.. I don't know. London seemed cool and the program is really prestigious, so I'm just lucky I even got in." You placed your drink on the tray in front of the empty middle seat and shivered, tucking your feet further under your behind.

"You cold?" Dave asked, furrowing his brows.

"Just my feet. I didn't wear thick enough socks." You half-smiled to the side of your mouth, resigned to the fact that you would likely be frozen the rest of this flight.

Dave leaned down, under the folding tray and unzipped the large pocket of his backpack, that he had taken down from the overhead compartment after the seatbelt sign had gone off. He pulled out a pair of wool socks, stuffing them between his teeth, and zipped his bag back up. He pulled the socks from his teeth and smiled. "Borrow mine."

"I wouldn't want to take your socks, Dave. What if you get cold? You obviously packed them for a reason.."

Dave shook his head, lifted his leg, almost knocking the tray up and the drink off, pulled at the leg of his khaki trousers and revealed the same pair of socks on under his black Vans. "I always carry an extra pair of socks in case of pretty but cold girls who sit next to me on my flight." You blushed furiously and shook your head, grinning at him. "Come here." Dave pushed up both arm rests and motioned for you to give him your feet. You slowly brought your feet up, laying your legs across the length of the seat, and resting your heels in his lap. He unballed his socks and pulled them over your own. "Better?"

You nodded softly and smiled. "Thank you. Now, I'm definitely going to have to see you after this so I can wash and return these." You wiggled your toes in his hands and he laughed.

The cabin lights had dimmed and most of the other passengers had begun to fall asleep. The plane was somewhere over Eastern Pennsylvania and was half way through it's journey: six hours down, six hours to go. You and Dave had been talking and flirting non-stop for the entirety of the flight.

"She's so cute, is she going to come out to visit you?" You asked him, flipping through pictures on his phone while he leaned close to your shoulder, his leg pressed against yours and neither of you moving.

"Yea, her and my parents are coming out for Thanksgiving. It'll be good. I'm definitely going to miss her most."

"What'd you call her?"

"My little gerbil.." Dave answered, a pink hue flushing his face.

"That's really cute. You're clearly a good big brother." You smiled at him, your eyes connecting for an extended amount of time. Dave smiled back at you and then dropped his head, finally breaking the connection.

"So, what are you most excited to see?" He asked, keeping his close proximity to you.

You threw your head back and smiled, thinking about where you wanted to go first. "The British Museum. I am really excited to go to the British Museum. They have all those mummies and Egyptian stuff and I think that's cool.." You yawned, covering your mouth and then continuing. "I'd like to see Westminster and also a play or two on the West End. I'd also like to take a weekend out to Ireland, maybe see Dublin or Kilkenny. I have distant relatives in Kilkenny, so that'd be fun... What about you? What are you most excited about?"

Dave rubbed his hand against his khakis. There was something about the way you looked at him and the way the conversation flowed easily between the two of you that made his hands clammy and his heart speed up. "I wanna see Big Ben and the Tower of London and the Eye, and I guess whatever else they have planned for my group." He shrugged. "It sounds like you had more interesting places to go to though."

"Are you not allowed to break away from the group?" You asked.

"I am, if I had someone to break away and do things with.." He saw you yawn again, and it made him yawn. "Do you want to lay out on the seat and sleep?"

"Are you not going to sleep?"

"I am, but I can sit up." Dave smiled.

"Well that's not fair to you.." You pouted.

"It's okay... come on." Dave slid to the seat at the aisle, pulled his blanket over his legs, and reclined the seat back. He pulled the disposable plane pillow off the seat next to him and he handed it to you. You scrunched it up in your hands and looked up at him.

"That's not fair. If you don't get to lay down, then I shouldn't get to either." You reclined your window seat back and stuffed the pillow against the wall.

"Oh, this is just ridiculous. Okay, get up." Dave pulled you up by the arm and slid his body along the seats, pushing the arm rest against the window up, and leaned against the wall. "Come here."

You narrowed your eyes and smiled at him, surprised by what he was asking you to do. "Oh my god, you don't even know me, Dave Hodgman. Aren't you afraid of being a little forward right now?" You snickered and sat down on the edge of the aisle seat.

Dave shook his head. "I know you, Y/n Y/L/N. I've spent the past six.. nope, seven hours getting to know you."

"That doesn't mean you know me." You smirked at his sweet brand of arrogance.

"I know you.. I know you are a music major from Seattle. You play four instruments already, but you're learning the French horn because you wanted a challenge. You love staying in bed and watching movies on a rainy day. You had a massive crush on Wesley from The Princess Bride when you were growing up. Peaches, wild berry bushes, and fireworks are your favorite things about summer. You wrinkle your nose when the bubbles from the soda you’re drinking are still fizzy. You're beautiful and adventurous and smart and funny and I've never talked to anyone for seven hours straight and not run out of things to say or not wanted to not stop talking as much as I really don't want to stop talking to you, and maybe I don't know you as well as your friends but I know you well enough to let you sleep on my chest and not think you’d find that weird. So, I say again, come here."

All you could do was laugh and blush and give your hands over to his. He lifted the blanket over him and pulled you gently against his chest. He slumped against the wall and wrapped his arms around you. You rested your head against his chest and caught a strong whiff of his cologne; it made butterflies fill your stomach. His body and arms were taut and firm and his navy blue sweatshirt was soft against your cheek. You started really hoping that this boy who you had met only hour before would wake up, kiss you, and then spend the next three months traipsing around the United Kingdom with you. You yawned again, your chin digging into his pectoral muscles, and felt his hand come up to gently caress and hold the back of your head. Your eyes began to droop and you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

"Miss.. Sir... we'll be landing soon. Please place your seats in the upright positions, buckle your seat belts and ready any trash you have for when we come back around." You looked up at the flight attendant, who smiled softly at you opening your eyes and then moved on to the woman across the aisle from you, who was also dead asleep.

"You sleep okay?" You heard a deeper, raspy voice come from above you.

It wasn't a dream. He was real. You smiled and looked up at him. Kiss me. Kiss me. Ugh. Idiot. "Yea, actually. You?"

Dave nodded and ruffled his matted hair. "Really well." He smiled bashfully up at you, his sweet upturned nose and freckles becoming clearer in the morning light as he opened the window cover. He looked down and watched as you took his socks off your feet and slipped your boots back on. "Keep 'em."

"You sure?"

"Yea. They're molded to your small feet now anyway." He smirked, and then shook his head, knowing that was not a good joke, but smiled wide when you laughed anyway.

The plane landed and everyone began milling about the cabin, waiting to be let off the plane. Dave stood up and pulled his backpack down, leaving it on the seat, and pulled your guitar down. You took it and smiled. You both deboarded together and went through customs together. You stood next to him at the baggage carrousel, your guitar case propped up on your feet, waiting for your oversized neon purple suitcase to come around.

"That's mine." You pointed as it came around slowly. Dave walked up and pulled it off the metal carrousel and placed it upright in front of you. "Thanks..." You felt melancholic and nervous.

"Uh, I had a nice time.." Dave mumbled.

You couldn't take the tension anymore. "Me too. Definitely the best flight I've ever been on." You smiled.

"Me too. Um, I hope you have a nice time.. here..." Dave contorted his face and reached his hand out to shake yours, and you felt your heart sink.

You reached your hand out to grip his back and pursed your lips. "Maybe I'll see you on the flight home around Christmas, Dave Hodgman." You picked up your guitar and pulled the handle out of your suitcase and began walking backwards a few steps, staring at the handsome guy in front of you, waiting for your movie magic moment. But it never came. You turned around, walked out the double doors to the taxi line at Heathrow airport and got in a black cab, resigned to never see him again, but to always remember that night fondly.

"I couldn't wait until December to maybe run into you at the airport again... No.. No.. Ugh." Dave paced circles into the cobblestones, talking out loud to himself. "I found you on Facebook but thought it would be weird to friend you after that handshake so...... I thought I'd stalk you instead? What? God damnit, Dave. You're an idiot. She probably doesn't even remember you. This is like an ambush. It's been two weeks. She has forgotten about you. She has met some British guy with some awesome accent by now who actually had the guts to fucking kiss her, you fucking loser... She’s definitely already dating Tom fucking Holland. At least I can say croissant like a normal person...." He digressed. Dave wiped the sweat from his brow and sat on a ledge, his head staring down at his shoes. "Just say, I don't know if you remember me but I sat next to you on the flight out here and I have been thinking about you for the past two weeks and I can't seem to get you out of my head and I was wondering if I could take you on a date to the British Muse-"

"Dave?"

Dave's head shot up and he saw you emerge from the music building at the University of Oxford, a long shot that ended up paying off. He stood up and stared at you, like a deer in headlights. "I.... uh... I........” He took a breathe and shook his head. “I can't believe I shook your hand."

You grinned and walked forward to him, setting down your guitar case on the ledge he had just been sitting on. "I can't believe you shook my hand either."

"I just... you don't even know me, and I didn't want to be forward..."

You cut him off. "I know you, Dave Hodgman. I spent twelve hours getting to know you and the past two weeks thinking about that flight.”

Dave smirked, listening to you repeat his words from the flight back to him. He played along. “Doesn’t mean you know me...”

You took a step closer and smiled. “I know you. I know you love the New York Mets, although I have no idea why. You call your little sister 'Gerbil', which is maybe the cutest thing on earth. You have the sweetest smattering of moles on your face that I have ever seen in my life. You got that scar on your wrist from falling off your bike when you were 12 and trying to save a frog from drowning in a shallow pond. I know you tend to-"

Dave grinned, and walked forward towards you, cupping his hands on your cheeks and pressing his lips against yours. His hands weaved into your hair and yours found their way against his ribs, pressing into the light jacket he had on, as he softly sucked on your bottom lip. He pulled away, seeing your eyes still closed, and whispered. "I should've done that at the airport."

You opened your eyes and let out a small, quick and breathy chuckle. "Wow."

"And if I had had enough guts to do that at the airport, I would've then told you that that was the best twelve hours of my life and I just want to spend more time with you. I want to really, really know you, Y/n, and um.." Dave smiled and laughed, staring into your y/e/c eyes. "Can I take you on a date tonight?"

You smiled bright to blind a pilot flying overhead above the low, gray clouds. "I genuinely thought you'd never ask."

Dave leaned down, picked up your guitar, and held out his hand for you. You gripped it tightly in yours and walked next to him, hopeful that maybe a twelve hour flight would turn into something so much greater.

@ninja-stiles @lightbreaksthrough @maddie110201 @hattyohatt @stilinski-stydia-obrien @iknowisoundcrazy @leilaelizabeth @itsannastasiabruh @5secsxofamnesia @awkwarddly @completebandgeek @chivesoup @ivette29 @sunshineystilinski

[agirlnamedally]

Allyyyy I start hsc on Monday and I'm supppppeeer nervous. I have been studying a lot but ofc enjoying my time with everyone at the library and talking etc. I'm stressing about my atar bc I really want to get in to social work bc I really wanna help people :((((( I wanna do psych but it's 99!!!!!

My tips for anyone starting Year 12/HSC/Senior Year:

Know that it’s perfectly normal to be nervous! I’m pretty sure I was scared to start VCE from Year 7 onwards, it always seemed like this giant, scary, looming monster that would destroy my happiness and suck out my soul like a dementor. Mostly, I just assumed I would have no free time, wouldn’t be able to keep up with the workload, and would fail absolutely everything.

Then, something funny happened. Year 11 came around and I realised… nothing had changed. The work might have been harder, but I had done the required training (aka Years 7-10) and was fully equipped with the skills to handle it. The transition from Year 10 to Year 11, and then again from 11 to 12, is really not that significant or scary! Your workload might increase a tiny bit, because (and in hindsight now I can look back and 100% support this) practice really does make perfect. Teachers don’t make you write 100 essays because they hate you and want you to be miserable or have no social life, it’s because they want you to be a good writer, but more than that, they know that the more essays you write, the easier it will be for you to write one come exam time. It will be less stressful, less terrifying and so much simpler to just regurgitate a piece of writing you’ve practically memorised because you’ve ingrained it into your memory throughout the year. That’s just an example for say English or Literature, but I think the same thing applies for all subjects, no matter how you’re tested. Practice makes perfect. Or at least, practice makes progress, haha.

Now, ATARs. Those finicky little bastards. I’m not going to tell you to forget about it, because I know that when I was in the midst of VCE it was always on my mind. I even had older kids, who had already graduated, constantly telling me how insignificant it was and that it wouldn’t matter one year from now, but I didn’t believe any of that. Now, looking back, I know that they were right. In terms of measuring your intelligence or potential for future career success, ATARs mean nothing. No matter what score you get, I promise you, you can go on and be anything you want to be in life. There will always be obstacles and challenges between you and your dreams, but if you want something and you’re willing to work hard and be nice to others, nothing can stop you. The only difference an ATAR can make is the journey and how you go about it. The only thing an ATAR determines is which course you might do. You might have your heart set on a dream course with a super high ATAR. If you want to shoot for that, go for it! Just know that if your number is lower, there are still ways to pursue it. You can take a gap year, travel, discover the world and find out who you are, uncover your passions, gain some experience. Do a TAFE course, start somewhere else, transfer. Defer it, reject it, volunteer somewhere, change your entire perspective on life, completely change directions. You still have the choice. Unis will often accept someone who didn’t get a first or second round offer initially as a mid-year enrolment, or you could do a semester or two somewhere else and then jump across and hopefully they’ll let you keep those credits under your belt. You may not even want to go to uni! There are many many options and paths you can take, don’t let a number limit or define your future.

Personally, I knew I wanted to further my education but wasn’t entirely set on any particular existing occupation. I knew my two favourite subjects were Psychology and Health and Human Development, but that I also enjoyed writing for English, so I could envision myself happily doing something that encompassed those things. For me, an Arts degree was the perfect choice because it allows you to dip your toes into many different areas of study, test the waters of various fields before arriving at a favourite – your major. The course I most had my heart set on had a pretty high entry score, one which I actually thought I had no possible chance of achieving, but I set it as my goal anyway because as I was so undecided, I didn’t want to ‘limit myself’ (typical Year 12 brain thinking). It worked out wonderfully for me, somehow I found the drive and ended up doing a lot better than I’d expected, really surprising myself (and probably everyone else) and guaranteeing a spot in the course. However, I wholeheartedly believe that had I not achieved the score I did, had I gone to a different university or course, or even taken some time off from studying, I would be just as happy. I would have found another way to continue learning, whether it be by sitting in a lecture theatre or travelling to see it myself. I could have enrolled in a different course, disappointed in myself and thinking it was only temporary, and ended up LOVING it. Maybe even more than this course! Who knows? These are the kinds of ‘what if’s and ‘maybe’s that make my brain want to explode. Being a human can be exhausting.

Whether you have a goal course you’re hoping to get entry for, a dream uni, hopes of studying abroad, a plan to defer for a year or no desire to study at all – but they’re all okay and all achievable! No matter what it is you want in life, there are ways to get there. Not just one, but limitless varying courses of action you can follow. One might be more direct, but it might also be more boring, or less challenging. It might grow you less as a person, or prevent you from meeting some really interesting people that another path will introduce you to.

Year 12 is an awesome time. It can be stressful, overwhelming, demanding, sleepless. It can invoke self-doubt, nostalgia, fear of plummeting into the depths of the unknown (your future) and leaving behind the safety and security of routine (your past). However, it can also be rewarding, exciting, bonding, enriching, growing and deliriously fun. I say delirious because there will definitely be times when you and your friends are so overcome with work and anxiety that you just have to laugh. Misery loves company and Year 12 is proof of that. Study dates are perfect for simultaneously motivating each other and collectively crying into the bowl of chocolate you just devoured. I’m probably not painting the best picture here, but seriously, it can be a terrific time.

If I could give you one piece of advice for entering VCE, it’s to maintain a balance. Balance in life is the key here, because otherwise you will either burn out from too much studying, fall behind from not enough, get sick from not taking care of yourself, or something else just as un-fun. When you’re studying, dedicate proportionate amounts of time or energy to subjects depending on their current level of significance. If possible, do assignments as soon as you get them, but prioritise the ones that are due first or worth the most. More importantly, ensure you have balance throughout your whole life, holistically. It’s just as important to take care of your mental, social and physical well-being as it is to reach your education goals. Make the time to keep active, even if it seems like there is none. I can’t even tell you how beneficial it is to get outside, clear your head and get your heart rate up. Endorphins are your best friend and a powerful stress-buster, so keep a pair of runners at the ready. If you’re not a fan of solo workouts, can’t stay motivated or simply don’t enjoy it, I highly recommend joining a team sport! In fact, I recommend this for everyone, because it’s beneficial to your mental, social and physical health. All at once. Plus there’s the accountability factor – you can’t just skip the workout or hit snooze when you don’t feel like it  - you made a commitment and your teammates are counting on you! Honestly being a part of a group like that will make you feel so needed or wanted, and it’s great to make new friends or connect with like-minded people. SPORT RULES. Taking care of your physical health also means nourishing your body with the right foods, getting enough sleep and drinking plenty of water – all the basics. Back to balance – it’s also essential to dedicate time to doing things just for you. Bubble baths are a great choice, there’s also reading, meditation, getting a massage or mani-pedi, having a movie night, seeing a friend, anything that makes you feel relaxed, happy and at peace. These are the things that keep you going! Imagine a pie chat, split into 3 sections. One section is school and schoolwork, one is health and fitness, and the last is dedicated to me-time or fun activities. The three sections represent mental, physical and social wellbeing = all equally important and necessary for not only success, but holistic health in general. If you’re feeling stressed out, look at which of the three sections might be out of balance. Are you not getting enough sleep? Have too much on your plate? Need some alone time? Not fuelling your brain and body with enough or the right nutrition? Try to keep these things in check and remind yourself that they’re all significant and deserving of your attention.

Most of all, know that VCE is completely unique to your own experience. Like karma, you will get out only what you put in. You can make it an easy time, just for socialising and blowing off class, you can dedicate 110% of yourself to studying every waking hour, never lose a mark and never see anyone else, OR you can have the best of both worlds and strike that beautiful, sweet balance.

Decide what your own goals are. Make your own rules. Ask yourself what motivates you, and then go after it. Use this time to challenge yourself, grow as a person and exceed any expectations, limitations or barriers that have been set by anyone – including and especially yourself. It’s an exciting time that you should definitely make the most of, because it will be over before you know it. I know it’s hard, but try to forget about ATARs, or at least diminish the all-mighty power and holy-grail presence that it can take. It’s just a number. If you try your best, that’s all you need to do. I have complete faith in you anon, 

YOU CAN DO IT :D

[lakeham]

ALEXIS POTTER is 28 YEARS OLD, resides in DOWNTOWN and has lived in Lakeham for 28 YEARS. She is FEMALE and works as a PARAMEDIC. She is portrayed by ZOEY DEUTCH  and is played by MIRANDA.

Trigger Warnings: Cancer, death, abortion

Throughout the years, the Potters had always resided in Florida — with so many of their relatives around every corner, family was of great importance. Charlie and Lola Potter were the first ones who broke the pattern and decided to settle down elsewhere. Truth was that when Lola, who married into the family through Charlie, stubbornly refused to start a family in a town where everyone assumed to know them better than they knew themselves, Charlie initially wanted to say no. Ultimately choosing between his new family and his old, he decided to go with the one that held the more promising future, despite the many obstacles on the way.

Neither of them came from wealthy families, and it was safe to say that they both had to work hard for everything they had. Managing to get their hands on a house in Lakeham, it didn’t take long for their first child to be born; a beautiful little boy with the kindest soul, giving Lola and Charlie a smooth transition into parenthood. While they had never dreamt of a big family before, their newborn son was the first of three others, resulting in a large family of three sons and a daughter. Charlie working at local industry in town and Lola as a nurse, they were often away long hours, but spent as much of their free time as possible with their children. Alexis Potter was the third out of four, a sweet, red-haired little girl with a strong personality from the start. Growing up with three brothers merely meant that she carelessly took part in her their many endeavors without question, rarely afraid to back down from a challenge. Already at a young age, she grew to resent the name Alexis, adapting it slightly and going with Alex instead. Overall, Alex would say she had a good, normal childhood. That was, of course, up until the day her mother fell ill.

For someone who worked as a nurse you would have expected to see the signs sooner, and not at all when the situation was too far gone to salvage. Truth be told, Lola did know about it earlier than she let on, but was always a fighter, stubborn to not let her condition affect the rest of her family and valuing the little time she knew she had left. When Alex was seven, her mother passed away after six months of struggling, taking a hard toll on each of her children and her daughter in particular. Spending the rest of her childhood growing up in a home with only males, Alex was outspoken and blunt, and not the typical, shy girl most others in her class resembled. Stubborn like her mother, she was known to get her will through, and despite her shaky commitment to her studies, she passed high school without that many obstacles on the way. It was during high school that she met the person who she, at the time, thought would be the love of her life. Cliff was a tall, handsome, one year older student of biology who happened to know one of her older brothers. Their romance was sweet and innocent, their relationship lasting for the next two years of her life. Despite her strong persona, Alex didn’t want to rush into anything, Cliff faithfully promising to wait for her. It was at the end of their relationship that Alex realized that promises were made to be broken, and that to expect a male, hormonal teenager to hold off on the good stuff had been naive. She never caught them red-handed herself, but truth was that she would rather have done just that than to hear it from her brothers that she was last in on the news.

Graduation couldn’t have come at a better time, and despite not having much capital to spend, the heartbroken nineteen-year-old managed to take a train to New York and leave Lakeham behind, crashing at a friend of her oldest brother. Alex was in desperate need of a change of scenery, furious with Cliff for his actions, but most of all angry with herself for thinking that the first time should be something special. Spurred by emotions in a city that never sleeps, Alex threw all her restraints aside, tagging along to a bar with her new roommates. It was never a part of her initial plan, but once there, she decided it was better to just get it over-with, promising herself to never tie herself down to a single man again, perhaps a little influenced by the alcohol intake on that particular night. Getting away from the small town life, the big city helped her let go of her past quicker than she would have thought, and the boyish girl raised by men turned into a full-blown woman, starting to spend time around girls her own age. For a while, Alex debated on skipping university altogether, taking a year away from school to work wherever they would have her. So, the day she enrolled at NYU her family was probably the most surprised, a newfound determination within her wanting to study to become a paramedic.

Upon receiving her diploma at twenty-three, Alex stayed in New York for a while, taking a job at a hospital in Brooklyn. Spending more hours at work than in her apartment, her life quickly got hectic. For a young girl with no actual working experience in the field up until then, after a full year it started to really get to her. Being on-site to witness a horrific accident first-hand involving a family of four, seeing those young children paired with all the blood, losing their lives to the mistake of another human being ultimately forced her to take a step back. Manically, she tried to ensure her boss that she was fine, that she could keep working. Unfortunately, her body was the one to proved her wrong, her hands trembling, shaking, refusing to perform even the simplest task. Having lost sight of her own path, she took the money she had made to travel abroad, taking a break from everything she had once called normal in her life. Her time in Europe did her good, enjoying the simple life, learning new languages as she went and treating herself with a temporary fling. Their thing was always casual, but at the time, he was exactly what Alex needed, and somehow knew just what to say to make her reconsider her career and give it a second chance. Everyone in her line of work went through tough experiences — hers just happened to come unusually early.

❝ IF WE WERE MEANT TO STAY IN ONE PLACE, WE'D HAVE ROOTS INSTEAD OF FEET.❞

The trauma her time in New York had left her with made her realize that the city life wasn’t for her, that she, for the first time since high school, longed for the small town life. Much like her mother, Alex was determined to stay on her own path and away from Lakeham, instead heading back to live with her relatives in Florida for a time. Strangely enough, it took her a few months to start seeing the signs of her own condition, only after five positive tests starting to take in the fact that she was pregnant. Having left the only person who could be the father somewhere in Europe, his presence wouldn’t have changed her decision in the end. The late abortion was the only way she saw fit at the time, a decision she had to live with for the rest of her life, and has regretted many times since. Her dedication to her work faltered for the next year, and it took another one for the people around her to start seeing the same old Alex again, despite no one really knowing what had caused it from the start.

After spending two years in Florida, she started to realize that maybe going back to your hometown wasn’t the worst idea after all. As her father grew older, Alex knew she would never forgive herself if she wasn’t around if something happened, moving back to Lakeham where her father and most of her brothers still remained. Picking up an apartment Downtown near the city centre surprisingly enough made her feel right at home, taking a job at the Lakeham General Hospital and adjusting to her new life quickly. With no real thoughts of the future, Alex takes it one day at a time, hating the idea of restricting yourself to a given plan.

Alex has always been fond of animals, and about two years ago she decided to take matters into her own hands and bring home a golden retriever puppy. Naming him Mike, he’s been her companion through her toughest times after the abortion, and is the only man she lets into her bed multiple nights in a row.

Due to growing up in a home with mostly males, Alex has always been more comfortable around guys than girls, feeling like she better knows where they stand and can read them better. In the past, most of the people she would consider her closest friends were male.

Despite often working long hours, Alex always values an adventure and likes to go out and see where things takes her if she can’t think of something else to do. On the rare occasions when she rather just stays at home, you would often find her cooped up with a good book or movie and Mike by her side.

(+) Spontaneous, adventurous, kind. (-) Stubborn, naive, outspoken.

[flirting-with-psychology]

REFLECTIONS Answer the following questions:

What is the single best thing that happened in the past year?

2015:  The beginning of the fall semester when I grew a lot more confidence

2016: Studied abroad

2017: Graduated

2018: Moved into the B Flat

2019: Got a boyfriend

 2. What is the most challenging thing that happened to you in 2015/16/17/18/19?

2015: Getting over Marble maybe

2016: Getting over Hawaii

2017: Making my 4500 film

2018: The music videos I did

2019: Deciding whether to date my now boyfriend

 3. What thing did you learn the most from this year?

2015: Hawaii and Marble

2016: My film class

2017: Also my film class

2018: My film jobs and internships

2019: Starting a relationship

 4. What is the kindest thing you did this year?

2015:  I don’t think I’m the one to ask, you’d have to ask people who perceived kindness

2016: Same

2017: Same

2018: Same

2019: Same

 5. Did you lose any close family member this year?

2015: Nope

2016: No

2017: No

2018: My great aunt died

2019: No close ones, but my grandma’s dementia is getting so bad she doesn’t remember who I am

 6. Pick three words to describe 2015/16/17/18/19.

2015: A learning experience

2016: Single, senior, band

2017: Senior to graduate

2018: Almost an adult

2019: Another year older

 7. What did you do in 2015/16/17/18/19 that you never did before?

2015: Got further than I ever had in my love life

2016: Studied abroad

2017: Moved into a house with roommates

2018: Moved in with male roommates, did an internship

2019: Got a boyfriend

 8. Did you keep last year’s resolutions? What were they?

2015: Here we go. Put one happy moment from each day into a jar: YES. Go to the gym regularly: Doing better but still could use improvement. Get a summer job: Yes. Make an effort to eat breakfast: Haha nope. Make an effort to look pretty: About the same as last year. Talk to people more and appear more confident: Yes. Find things to be excited about: Not as much as I want. Find a boyfriend: NOPE. Write more: Not really. Read more: Maybe a little. Have adventures: Some, but not as much as I would like. Initiate things: Yes. Use “I” more: Yes. Be less mean to myself: Yes. Overthink less: No, still working on that. Be proud of myself for trying my best but accept not being perfect: I guess. Take responsibility: More. Be positive and enthusiastic: Still working on it. Carpe diem: Not enough.

2016: I can’t remember lol

2017: I can’t remember what I wrote. Here’s what I’ll do: write my 2018 resolutions so that when I reblog this next year I will know:

2018: Be more adventurous: Maybe? Overthink and strategize less: HA not really. Get a film job: Yes. Eat more vegetables: Maybe a little but still not enough. Go to the gym, like, ever: Yes. Read more: Kinda. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet.

2019: Get a boyfriend: Finally did! Be more spontaneous and adventurous: Kinda? Sometimes? Lose weight and eat better: Nope. Read more books: Nope. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet. Learn how to work hard: Not really. Spend more time with my friends: Kinda. Love myself, and be someone I love: Not really. Carpe diem: Sometimes. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal: Yes. Earn more money than I spend: Nope. Travel: Yes. Discover new music: Yes. Try new creative things: Yes. Believe in myself: Not really. Learn to be a leader: Nope. Watch more movies: Some. Think about other people: Tried to. Learn how to make mistakes: Kinda.

2020 resolutions: Get a new job. Lose weight and fit into my dresses again. Read more books. Spend more time with friends. Go on dates. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal. Try new creative things. Take risks even if they cost money. Make more money than I spend. Make jewelry. Get back to people in a timely manner. Be more punctual. Finish my harry potter spellbook and keep up with my character book. Learn new things. Be the kind of person I wish I could be. Be more open to ideas. Post more pictures online. Don’t be such a control freak. Worry less about what people think. Laugh more.

 9. Did you travel to any interesting places in 2015/16/17/18/19?

2015: Went to Las Vegas for my birthday and California with the band and Kentucky to see Paul McCartney.

2016: Went to Italy, went on band trips to California and Texas

2017: Went to London with my mom, went to New Orleans for my cousin’s wedding and hooked up with my 6th grade crush, went to Wyoming for the solar eclipse

2018: Went to Las Vegas for a film shoot

2019: Went to Israel 

10. What would you like to have in 2016/17/18/19/20 that you lacked in 2015/16/17/18/19?

2015: A BOYFRIEND HAHAHA

2016: Still a boyfriend lmao fml

2017: Still a boyfriend but one that I feel satisfied with. I’m not sure if I’m there with Guacamole. Also he’s not even my boyfriend yet

2018: Still a boyfriend lmao

2019: An interesting job (finally got the boyfriend!)

11. Do you even believe in new year’s resolutions? Why or why not?

2015: I think they are a good idea, for reflection as much as goals.

2016: Maybe. Idk

2017: Yeah it’s a good idea

2018: It’s always good to try to better yourself and it gives you motivation to do it

2019: It’s a good idea for goals

12. Do you believe that 2015/16/17/18/19 had an reoccurring theme for you? If so, which theme and why?

2015: No more than any other year really

2016: More like my entire life has a recurring theme of being single af

2017: Not really

2018: Boys I like having girlfriends

2019: Macy’s

13. Do you feel like 2015/16/17/18/19 went by too fast?

2015: No

2016: It went a little fast, especially now that I’m about to graduate

2017: Not really

2018: Not really, but maybe my youth went too fast

2019: It went by too fast for how much I accomplished

14. Did you fall in love with any new artists during the year 2015/16/17/18/19? List them.

2015: I fell back in love with Taylor Swift

2016: Collabro

2017: Anastasia the Musical cast, and Hamilton is growing on me

2018: A bunch of musicals

2019: My musicals playlist on spotify has Rent, Dear Evan Hansen, Legally Blonde, Galavant, Hamilton, A Star Is Born, Frozen 2

15. Brag about two of your accomplishments in 2015/16/17/18/19.

2015: I made a couple cool music videos, and I lost some weight after increasing my gym attendance.

2016: I made a short film, Pancakes, with a full crew. I got straight A’s in the spring.

2017: I graduated and I made another short film

2018: I worked on two film shoots and I got promoted at work

2019: I stayed in touch with friends I made on a film shoot, and I got a boyfriend

 16. What was your favorite movie that came out this year?

2015: The Martian

2016: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

2017: Coco

2018: A Star Is Born

2019: Rocketman

 17. Fill in the blank: In 2016/17/18/19/20 I will ____________.

2015: Get the confidence back that I had in the fall

2016: Graduate college

2017: Start looking for film jobs

2018: Find myself

2019: Find a new job

 18. If you could fly anywhere in the world in 2016/17/18/19/20, where would you go?

2015: Italy, and I plan to!

2016: London, and I plan to

2017: Scotland or Ireland, and I don’t have any plans to

2018: Maybe that Israel birthright thing

2019: Maybe Ireland or Amsterdam

 19. What was your biggest regret of 2015/16/17/18/19?

2015: Worrying about the future when I had something good rather than just enjoying it

2016: Not trying enough in making friends and making the most out of it

2017: Maybe not getting quite enough out of college

2018: Forgetting or never quite learning how to work hard. That and not asking a cute guy out in time

2019: Not buying that moonstone necklace

 20. Do you think you’ll be having a better 2016/17/18/19/20 than 2015/16/17/18/19?

2015: I hope so

2016: I hope so

2017: I hope so

2018: I hope so and I think so

2019: I sure hope so

21. Did you make any new friends this year? Lose any friends?

2015: I got closer with some friends :)

2016: I made some new band and film friends. One of my friends from freshman year died.

2017: I almost lost a friend but now we seem to be friends again. I also made some new ones

2018: I made some new ones, and kinda stopped being friends with some of my old roommates

2019: I think I got closer to some friends

22. What was the biggest adventure of the last year?

2015: Hawaii, I think

2016: Studying abroad

2017: Moving out and starting to adult

2018: The film shoots

2019: Dating my boyfriend

23. Did you get cake on your birthday? Presents? What you wanted?

2015: Yeah I went to Vegas which was cool! Got cake and alcohol and presents

2016: I did not get cake but I got IHOP. I got presents, and the football team won the game that day sending us to the PAC 12 Championship

2017: I got pancakes, presents, and maybe I’m starting to get what I wanted?

2018: I got chocolate mousse and presents and I didn’t even know what I wanted

2019: I got cake and presents including one thing I wanted

24. How much did you change this year? What’s different about you?

2016: Not too much has changed but I think I’m prettier, more confident, braver, and value bravery more.

2016: I’m lazier, gained back the weight that I lost last year, and lost some of the confidence from last year. Wow…

2017: I’m not a student anymore

2018: I maybe lost some of my hope in my love life and felt more set in my ways

2019: I don’t have as much FOMO but I’m also getting more frustrated with my life

CONFESSIONS

Bold the statements that are true (2015) and cross out (2016) and italicize (2017) and I’m running out of formats so CAPS (2018) and *star (2019)

In the year 2015/2016/2017/2018/2019 I confess that I….

KISSED SOMEONE I HAVE NEVER KISSED BEFORE. *DID SOMETHING I REGRET. *Painted a picture. *Dyed my hair. Got a new haircut I thought I’d never get before. Wrote a poem. Graduated from High School. Graduated from College. Applied for Graduate School. RAN A MILE. Ate much healthier. Ended toxic friendships. *GAINED A NEW FRIEND. Gained a new best friend. *Visited a foreign country. *LIED. *HAD A FIGHT WITH MY PARENTS. *HAD A SECRET/KEPT A SECRET. Realized my homosexuality. REALIZED MY BISEXUALITY. (OR AT LEAST QUESTIONED IT) Realized my pansexuality. Realized my asexuality. *Broke a promise. *Slept under the stars. *STAYED UP TILL SUNRISE. *PUSHED SOMEONE AWAY. *Got in a fight. SLEPT WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER. *ATTENDED A PARTY. Got dumped. Got a new piercing/tattoo. Learned that I wasn’t cis gender. Drank underage/used illegal substances. *ATTENDED A CONCERT. *ATTENDED A MUSICAL. *TRAVELED TO ANOTHER CITY. *Broke someone’s heart. *Hiding something from someone. *MADE SOMEONE’S DAY. Cheated on a test/homework. Physically cheated on my significant other. *Emotionally cheated on my significant other. Quit a job. GOT A NEW JOB. Learned to hate someone I thought I never would. Learned to be more patient. Saw the supermoon. SAW THE METEOR SHOWER.