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#I went there on a two year working holiday visa
thedeviousdevilxx · 9 months
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Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago I was living in New Zealand for two years, other times it feels like I was just living there only a year ago.
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tkwrites · 4 months
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Before I Meet Your Parents... - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)
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Photos from Pinterest
Title: Before I Meet Your Parents…
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC) 
Warnings: Crying, Grief, Smut (18+ only), oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving)
Summary: As Sarah prepares to meet Quinn’s parents, she’s bombarded with new feelings and situations, as well as trying to manage her own life. A very worried Quinn helps her get to the bottom of it and does everything he can to make it better. 
Word Count: 4,600
Comments: I began writing Sarah meeting Quinn’s parents and realized I was missing this crucial step. Stories like these help me process my own grief, and I hope they can be helpful for you, too, even if you’re not experiencing a big loss. Taking care of ourselves can be difficult sometimes. Please remember that self care isn’t selfish - nor is it selfish to ask for what you need. 
The holidays have been…an experience, and while I was writing, I wasn’t finding the solid chunks of time I’ve had in the past. With the busiest holidays done, I was able to finish this, and hope to write a lot more with the break from work between holidays.
Thank you for your patience and support and love for Quinn and Sarah and my writing. I hope you enjoy.
Before I Meet Your Parents…
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
The week Quinn’s parents were coming into town turned into a total clusterfuck. 
First, there were the Canucks standings. Quinn point blank refused to talk about their position, not wanting to jinx anything. “It’s bad enough that I have to talk to the media about it after every game. I'm not talking about it at home.”
Even without his commentary, Sarah knew enough from reading and following the league stats, to know the Canucks were headed to the finals, bringing playoff hockey to Vancouver for the first time in nine years. It was a huge deal, and if all went to plan, they were expected to clinch a spot in the bracket in the next two games. 
His parents wanted to be in the arena for the historic occasion when their son led his team to the Stanley Cup finals in his first year as captain.
In addition to the will-they-won't-they stress of the finals, Lexie Demko had called and left a message for her about getting WAG jackets. Sarah had to look up what they were, and the idea of showing up as an official “WAG” to any game, let alone a playoff game, was incredibly intimidating. 
She and Quinn weren’t even officially official yet. She’d been thinking of him as her boyfriend for a few weeks and had no interest in dating anyone else. Unless he was seeing someone while she was in school, she knew he wasn't seeing anyone else either, but they hadn’t formally defined anything about their relationship.
On top of all this, she was prepping for her own finals. Although they were more than three weeks away, the two tests and publication project were looming over her like an albatross. She had to get a B or better, or she would be out of her program, and back home with her education visa voided.
The prospect of the work it would take to finish her semester well, and the possibility of stepping into the world of a WAG and meeting Quinn’s parents had her discombobulated and spending long stretches of time at the aquarium with Walter, trying to wrap her mind around everything. 
As she left a couple of nights before his parents were set to arrive, Rick stopped her, “I think your man is at the front desk.” 
It felt like she had to suck her mind from a thick fog to even register his words. “Hu?”
“I’m pretty sure your man is up front,” he repeated, “they wouldn’t let him back. Are you okay?” 
She waved off his question and walked to the front of the building. Quinn was indeed there, looking distressed. 
“Is everything okay?”
“Can I give you a ride home?” 
“Sure, if you want.” Didn't he have plans with one of his teammates tonight? 
Anxious thoughts dripped into her mind. She knew she hadn't been very communicative lately. Was he breaking up with her? 
Quinn took her hand and led her to his car. 
Once tucked inside where people couldn’t overhear, he asked, “is something wrong? You haven’t come over to study the past three days, and you didn’t answer any of my texts today.” 
She looked at the bag at her feet, feeling far away. “I'm sorry. My phone’s been buried in my backpack all day,” she confessed.
“I just feel like you’re…” he stopped himself, not even wanting to voice that thought. “Is it because you’re nervous to meet my parents?” 
A heavy feeling took up residence in her stomach. “No,” she said slowly. 
It wasn’t quite the whole truth, but also wasn’t a total lie. Logically, she wasn’t that nervous to meet them, but her emotions ran themselves into dizzy, knotted up circles whenever she thought about it. Things weren’t making sense. God, she felt so… she felt so off. There was more to this mood she was in than nerves, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. 
His hand, warm and comforting, covered her knee. “Sarah, what’s going on?” 
All at once, she was choking back tears.
“Can we go to your place?” she asked, very much not wanting to lose it in his jeep in the middle of Stanley Park, or in her bedroom where Eunice would jump to conclusions and tell her she ought to break up with Quinn if he was making her cry. 
The way her voice shook made Quinn gulp. “Yeah, of course,” he said before starting the car and going home. 
When they got there, her steps to the elevator were heavy, as if she were dragging some heavy sledge he couldn’t see. 
“Sar, what’s going on?” he asked. 
Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and willed the tears not to fall until they were in his house. 
Just as she suspected, someone joined them once they reached the lobby level. They shared a tense, silent ride for 12 floors as Sarah mentally recited the anatomy of the stingray to keep her tears from falling in front of a stranger. 
“You’re kind of scaring me,” he said gently as the door swung shut behind them. 
On top of everything else, now she was letting Quinn down. Her hands fluttered up to cover her face as her tears finally broke free. 
“What’s wrong?” he repeated, taking her arms and gently trying to pull her hands away from her face. 
“I don’t know.” 
“You…don’t know?” he repeated, a little dumbfounded. 
Her hands dropped in defeat. “I don’t know,” she repeated, finding more tears falling. What was wrong with her? 
Heart beating faster with worry, he took her backpack off, leaving it in the entryway before guiding her to the couch. 
“Are you upset with me? Did I do something?” 
“No.” 
“I don’t…” he started, then stopped. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. He was really scared now. If he didn’t do anything, and she didn’t seem to be injured, he couldn’t understand what the problem would be. 
“Can you hold me?” 
He drew her into his arms. 
After a few comforting moments - focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat  - she was able to voice something. “I’m so overwhelmed.” 
“With what?” he asked, running a hand up and down her back. At least they had a clear direction. He could work with that.
“With everything. With school and WAG jackets and…” oh, fuck. Of course this was what this was about. She should know by now. “And your parents,” she finished, breaking into more tears. 
“Are you that scared of my parents?” he asked, pulling back trying to see her face. 
He knew meeting the parents was a big, intimidating step, but she’d handled meeting Brady, and that first uncomfortable call with Luke and a very guarded Jack with so much grace, he hadn’t expected her to be nervous, let alone so upset. “I think they’ll love you. I can’t guarantee how they’ll react, but they’ve always been nice to girls they’ve met in the past.” 
Her head shook slowly. 
“I don’t - Sarah I don’t understand.” 
To add insult to injury, she had to say it out loud. 
“I’m meeting your parents,” she said, looking into his eyes before her face crumpled and she stared down at her hands, knotted in her lap, “but you won’t get to meet mine.” Her voice was a desperate kind of wailed whisper. 
Shit. He should have known. Of course that would come up with something like this. His dad once told him every major occasion was tinged with grief, knowing someone was always missing from the celebration. The fact that this would be hard for her hadn’t even crossed his mind. 
Letting herself be pulled into Quinn, Sarah wept into his shoulder. His hands were heavy, warm and grounding on her back. 
“I’m so sorry,” he said into her hair. 
He’d never seen her so distressed. Even when she’d cried the first time he’d seen her tattoo, it hadn’t been like this. Then, it was no more than a minute of soft tears hitting his shoulder. This was so much more intense. He would probably be weeping too if he was in her position.  
She pulled back suddenly, her hands braced on his shoulders, “don’t you have stuff with Brock tonight?” 
“I canceled it when I hadn’t heard from you,” he admitted. “I was worried something had happened.” 
“Oh,” she said, body relaxing. 
The impact of what he said finally hit her. “Oh, Quinn, I'm sorry.” 
He shook his head, “don't be. I can have dinner with Brock any time.” 
“But, weren't you helping him pick out a ring or something?”
“Sarah,” he said, grasping her shoulders, “it's fine. We're doing it tomorrow after practice.” 
“I'm sorry,” she said again, shaking her head.
“You don't need to apologize. When it comes to being moral support for Brock or making sure you're okay, I'd rather be with you.”
She gave him a watery smile, hoping it conveyed how sweet she thought that was.
“I’m sorry I didn’t even think about how hard this would be for you,” he said.
Shaking her head, Sarah reached up to wipe her cheeks. Her fingers came away smudged in black. “Oh, God. Now I’m a mess.” 
He laughed a little, “do you want to go wash your face? I know you don’t have your stuff, but you can use mine.” 
A shaky breath rattled through her lungs. “Could I actually take a shower?” 
“Of course.” 
“I’ve kind of been putting things off.” 
She hadn’t washed her hair in four days, and couldn’t remember if she’d showered at all that morning. 
Even though she’d talked several times with her therapist about coping strategies and patterns to look for, when she couldn’t identify what she was feeling, her first instinct was still to shut down. It was so totally different to talk about it than it was to actually do it. The time it took to realize what was wrong was getting shorter, at least. That was a good thing. 
“Do you want some of my stuff to change into?” he asked. 
“That would be really nice.” 
Her stomach gave a sudden, loud grumble.
A surprised laugh flew out of Quinns mouth.
“I’m not sure I’ve eaten today,” she confessed. 
Another part of what had her feeling so terrible. It was all interconnected, no matter how much she tried to pretend it wasn’t. 
Quinn’s eyes widened. How did someone forget to eat?
“What do you want?” he asked, jumping onto the problem he could physically solve. 
Sarah closed her eyes and tried to think. 
“Pancakes,” she said, finally, thinking about how pleasant the fluffy breakfast food would feel in her mouth. 
“I can make pancakes. I don’t have any syrup though, I don’t think.” 
“That’s okay. Do you have peanut butter?”
He nodded.
“Thank you, Quinn,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.
He patted her hip, “let's go then. I'll cook while you're in the shower.”
The fact that he was being so sweet and nice made tears well up in her eyes as she stood. 
Leading her into the bathroom, Quinn asked if she needed anything else. When she said she didn’t, he told her he would put some clothes for her on the counter. 
The prospect of washing the day off made her breathe a sigh of relief. 
The big, walk-in shower was so bright, and opulent. Creamy white and blue tiles made a Moroccan style mosaic on the floor, and white subway tile was in the rest of the…it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to call it a room, that wasn't occupied with the thick glass sliding doors. There was even a tall, thin window right in the shower with a view of the northern skyline and the soft evening light winking off the harbor. 
Pushing worries of wasting water or draining the heater out of her mind, Sarah allowed herself to enjoy the rare luxury of a hot shower with no roommates demanding the bathroom. 
The water here got so much warmer than it did in her house. Quinn probably had his own water heater, not just access to the building boiler. 
Standing under the water, she breathed the humid air and allowed the dam to break.
It was always strange, how giving something a name made it easier to feel and let run its course. Voicing what was wrong was always half the battle. 
It had been a long time since she’d felt grief like this. Since it had been so triggered. Things with Quinn were so, so good. Far better than anything she could have ever dreamed up for herself, but being in a relationship still brought up new experiences, and new ways she hadn't yet missed her parents. 
Thinking of Quinn made the big emotion in her chest ease. A soft swell of gratitude displacing some of the sadness. She’d never dated someone like him - someone so willing to try to understand. Someone who took her where she was and wasn’t put off by how much she missed her parents. 
When Kaleo, her boyfriend in Hawaii, had confessed he didn’t understand why she brought up her dad so much, it had been a slap in the face, and made her feel so alone with someone who was supposed to be her partner. He had basically run away when her mom died, not willing to make the trip to the funeral, despite their dating for more than a year. It had been the final crack in the foundation of their relationship, and a big part of why her return to the islands lasted only three weeks before she moved back home. 
Quinn was so refreshingly different - kind and compassionate, and willing to listen. The universe had been keeping track of all the sad, frustrating things in her life and finally gave her the good things she was due all poured into one person. 
Though she never heard him come in, a pair of blue sweats and a yellow Michigan shirt were waiting on the bathroom counter for her.
When she walked into the kitchen, Quinn felt his eyes go wide. Now was not the time for him to get all lustful over Sarah in his clothes, but it was impossible not to. She was braiding her wet hair, and it made her breasts, so obviously out of a bra, jostle under the Michigan logo stretched over them.
Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he asked, “did you have a good shower?” 
She’d been in there a long time - nearly 45 minutes. When he dropped the clothes off, She’d been crying, so he supposed not all of that time was actually spent bathing. 
She tied off the end of the braid as she walked up to him. “I did, thank you,” she said before pressing a kiss to his cheek. 
His arm wound around her waist, and pulled her against him. “Good. I hope these are up to standard. The recipe had good reviews.” 
“I thought you said you could make pancakes?” 
“I can,” he said, gesturing to the stove where the last of them was cooking in the pan, “I just didn’t have a recipe. At home, we always make them from a mix.” 
“And you didn’t have any here?” 
A sheepish smile spread over his face, “pancakes are one of my guilty pleasure foods, so I try not to have it in the house.”
She giggled, and a sigh raced through his veins. 
A whiff of his own soap hit him, and he remembered what he’d been thinking when he first heard her walking down the stairs. 
“Hey, will you message me the kind of shampoo you like and whatever else you need? I’ll order it so you can have the stuff you like here.” 
Sarah took half a step back from him, eyes wide. 
Maybe he’d overstepped. “Not that you can’t use mine. You’ve just showered here a few times and it seems kind of silly to not have the things you like.” 
Also, he was tired of her smelling like his soap. He liked her smell so much, he’d do anything to keep it around. 
“Oh,” she said, feeling watched over and considered. “That would be really nice.”
They sat down at the bar counter with pancakes, peanut butter, butter, jam, and a tiny bottle of maple syrup Quinn remembered he had from a gift basket when he'd moved in.  
“Thank you for this,” she said, knocking her shoulder into his. 
“You're welcome.”
“It’s just been such a shit week, and you’re so…” she paused, thinking and put a peanut butter and syrup coated piece of pancake in her mouth. “You’re so good.” 
He blushed and tried to deflect the praise, “so what else are you overwhelmed with? School, and something about jackets?”
A flush flew into her cheeks. “Lexie called me about WAG jackets.” 
“Oh,” he said, not really sure what the big deal was. 
“I’m just,” she paused, setting down her fork. “Do you want me to wear one?” 
“There’s no one else I’d want to wear it.” 
“But, are you ready for that?” 
“Ready for what?” 
“For me to be so obviously… I mean, we’re not even official yet.” 
“Right.” 
“But you want me to wear a wives and girlfriends jacket?”
“We’re headed that way, aren’t we? I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else.” 
Even though she felt the same, a huge wave of relief swept through her. “I’m not either but, if I wear a Jacket to a playoff game -” 
He winced, not liking her to talk about it like it was a foregone conclusion. 
“Or any game,” she amended, “people are going to wonder. Do you know what comes up when you google NHL WAG jackets?” 
He shook his head. 
She went to dig her phone out of her backpack, finally seeing the ten texts from Quinn, along with a missed call from her brother.
She really needed a pair of airpods or a watch or something she could wear while her phone had to stay in her bag in the lab. 
Pulling up the search, she handed her phone to him before going back to her pancakes, now deliciously infused with syrup. 
“Go to the reddit listing,” she suggested. 
He scrolled down and clicked on the link, already turned gray from her previous visit. The whole page was speculation about which woman belonged to which player. 
“If I go with a jacket, and someone posts pictures, that’s going to throw our relationship into this, and I just want to make sure we’re…ready for that.” 
“Are you ready for that? Because it’s okay if you’re not.” 
She bit her lip, “I’m not sure. It makes me kind of uncomfortable. It makes it feel like I belong to you or something,” she admitted.
Quinn grimaced.  
“I can see how you got there,” he said, setting the phone face down. “You don’t have to get one and as far as I’m concerned, you never do, but I think you might want to talk to Lexie about it first.” 
“Why?” 
“The wives and girlfriends have a kind of support group. They hang out, and they help each other a lot. Lexie had a baby in October, and I know the other partners were really helping. Organizing meals and stuff like that. From what I know, the jackets are more about being part of that club than about -” he didn’t even want to say it, “belonging to someone on the team.” 
She hummed. Sarah had sat with some of the wives and girlfriends at games a few times. They were always nice and very welcoming, but she didn’t feel this kind of camaraderie. 
“Lexie asked me if you wanted one, and I didn’t know, so I gave her your number. I’m sorry, I should have warned you about it.” 
“I just didn’t know what it meant,” she confessed. “Or if you were, like, trying to hurry things along through Lexie somehow.” 
He laughed, “no. I just didn’t want to make the decision for you. I’m sorry if it heaped more stress onto your plate.”
“It’s okay, it’s just new, you know?” 
“Yeah. It took me a while to transition. If I didn’t have Tanev, I don’t know what I would have done.” 
“Who’s Tanev?” 
“He was my defensive partner my first year. He was traded to Clagary, but he and his then fiance, Kendra, really helped me find my feet.” 
“Maybe I’ll ask Emma about it.”
“Yeah? You guys talk?” 
“Sometimes, we’re not besties or anything, but she checks in.” 
Quinn smiled, relief filling his bones. 
“Do you want me to take you home? Or would you rather stay here?” Usually, he wouldn’t have even asked but she looked so tired and comfortable, he wasn’t sure she’d want to make the trek. 
Relief swept through her. She didn’t want to overstep - but the last thing she wanted was to go home. The idea of leaving to sleep in her cold, empty bed seemed like a terrible one. 
“I’ll let Eunice know I won’t be home,” she said as an answer. The last time she’d slept over, Eunice had called three times in a row to break through Sarah’s do not disturb, worried she had been abducted in the middle of the night. 
As they settled in bed, and she scooted herself close to him, he tried to pull in some calming breaths. It didn’t really work. He’d been half hard all night seeing her in his clothes, and now that she was scooting up against him, he slid way beyond half.  
“Sorry,” he coughed. 
Sarah turned over, “for what?” 
Cheeks flaming, he wondered why he’d said anything at all. “I just…sorry,” he gestured down. “You in this shirt is a real turn on.” 
“Really?” 
She and Quinn were relatively similar sizes overall, but he was far more rectangular than she was. She felt like this shirt pulled over all of her soft bits in the most unflattering way possible, not to mention the yellow color made her look pale and washed out. 
“Yeah,” he said with an earnest nod. 
Sarah had been wondering all night how she could properly thank him. Now that the opportunity was here, she had to seize it. Capturing his mouth, she rolled on top of him. 
His hands went to her hips as a groan fell out of his mouth. 
Every time she went to pull away, he followed her, nipping her bottom lip, or stroking his tongue over the roof of her mouth; he didn’t want to let her go. 
She broke away all together and sat up, so she was straddling his hips. 
Quinn, who was already out of breath from the kissing, felt his chest hitch as she reached for the hem of her (his) shirt, and began pulling it up. She was even doing that arms crossed skin-the-cat kind of move. God, this was - she was a dream come true. 
Watching her ease the blue M over her chest, knowing his name was on her back made him dizzy and he felt his erection press more urgently against her. 
He wanted to save this vision of her stripping off his shirt into permanent, long-term memory. 
“Shit, Sarah,” he moaned into her mouth when she let the fabric fall next to her and leaned down to kiss him again. 
She smiled, happy to be getting the response she’d been going for. She didn’t want to have sex, but there were other ways she could thank him. 
“Do you want my hands or my mouth?” she asked. Even though he hadn’t come close to going down on her, she was willing to let that rule slide for now.
“God, Mouth, please,” he practically begged.
She really was a dream. She’d never gone down on him before. He figured it wasn’t something she really enjoyed. Maybe she was just saving it for a special occasion. He wasn’t entirely certain what made this evening so special, but he’d take it.
Her lips ghosted over his chin and onto his chest as her hands pushed his pajama pants down. He lifted his hips, eager to please. She didn’t push them down all the way - just enough to let his hard cock spring free. 
Taking a straight journey to where he wanted her, there was no preamble or teasing before she was wrapping her lips around him, and taking him deep. 
Her mouth was hot and soft, her tongue skilled as she traced the vein on the underside, ending with a flick at the base of the sensitive head. 
She pulled back and sucked on the tip like some kind of lollipop. A soft snick sounded through the room when she released the suction to start again. 
His left thigh began to tremble. A few more seconds and he'd be done for. 
“Oh, fuck,” he said as she took him deep again, making his eyes roll back. 
This was a dream save for one thing: her hair was braided back. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into the soft tresses. He wound them in the sheets instead.
Hollowing her cheeks, she pulled back to the tip. His guttural groan had a deep sense of satisfaction curling in her belly. 
Stroking her tongue over the slit, licking up his salty precome, she smiled when he swore again. 
“I’m gonna come,” he warned. 
A small whine left his mouth when she pulled off him, but her hand kept moving, pulling his orgasm out all the same. 
When he came, she shielded herself with her other hand, managing to catch most of his release before it splattered all over her. She was too tired for another shower. 
Leaving him a panting mess, she went to wash up and wipe off the splatter that snuck past her hand. 
Once she was back in bed with his shirt back on, Quinn gathered her against him, “that was amazing, thank you.”
She hummed and scooted a little closer. 
“What do you want?”
“A good night's sleep,” she murmured. 
“You don’t want me to return the favor?” he asked, humor in his voice. One of his hands was making a slow expedition down her stomach.  
"No, you can do that," she hummed.
She felt his laugh against her skin, and his fingers snuck under the waistband of his sweats.
 The pleasure that swam into her veins was comforting. She felt so contented and supported, spooned up against him as he stroked her sensitive pearl. She reached back to grab his hip as the sparks became more intense.
He was an attentive student, learning the patterns and pressure she liked as if he needed to ace this test to pass the class. Even going so far as to work his knee between hers to give himself a little more room without making her uncomfortable.
“Quinn,” she whispered. 
God, the way she said his name made him feel like he could do anything - hike Mt. Everest, take on the whole Eastern conference, fly to the moon. He’d do anything to hear it again.
He began to kiss her neck, switching his fingers to circle clockwise. The sudden change in pattern made her clench down and a whine escaped her throat. 
“Are you close?” 
“Yes. Put your fingers inside me,” her breathy whisper made his fingers tingle with power and purpose. 
He obeyed.
After a few strokes, she adjusted his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed gently against her clit. 
Her hips moved with him, and she let out a little moan, “just like that, Quinn.” 
She began to pulse around his fingers and she felt him smile against her skin as he worked her though the orgasm. 
She slept soundly that night, curled up with Quinn, awed by the once improbable and yet very real prospect she might not have to face anything totally alone again. 
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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lovethephotoo · 2 years
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Underrated Travel Hacking Tips for Everyone
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I haven’t taken a vacation for the last three years with good reason regarding the severity of the global health crisis and the economy of the US. Inflation is at an all-time high and the cost of everything from groceries to clothing increased.
On one of my work lunch breaks, I stumbled upon a YouTube video from professional, full time travel vloggers who enjoy saving money. I saw that the Youtuber went on a “travel hacking” trip around the world to save up miles and points for two weeks. I personally would not like to spend only a day in different countries while spending so much money to fly there. Also, I don’t want to pay the annual fees for travel credit cards. Therefore, I decided to do my own research to see which tips could work for any frugal traveler.
·         Link your accounts: Delta SkyMiles and Instacart have a partnership. Everyone needs groceries. I order from Costco every week to support my family and we buy the necessities (milk, meat, fruits, and vegetables) only to cut costs. Every one dollar spent on Instacart is one and a half miles on Delta. It racks up quickly.
·         Bonus Tip: Instacart has a great deal when an order is placed within a three-hour window, the customer receives two dollars off their order. More money in your wallet!
·         Best Credit Card: Amazon Prime Rewards Visa is the most economical credit card that has no annual fee. I invested in an Amazon Prime membership in 2016 and never looked back. It is the only streaming service that I pay for. Majority of my purchases are from Amazon and I received five percent back with each order. It is two percent back on restaurants, gas, and drugstores. There is one percent back on all other purchases.  The points can be used to buy anything that Amazon has on their website.
·         SkyMiles Shopping: Airlines like Delta have their own designated website where a customer can earn airline miles with their purchases. Every company listed on the website has a specific number of miles that a customer can earn. I love fitness and I buy my workout clothes from the website. During the holiday season, I was able to earn three miles per every one dollar spent for a Delta flight by buying two tie dye sweatshirts.
With the information that I learned and stated above, I booked my flight to Hilo, Hawaii and I posted some photographs that I took below. It was heavenly paradise.
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The magical sunset that I experienced from the summit at my hotel.
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It was so beautiful to see the aerial view of Hawaii from a helicopter and the scent of sea water was relaxing.
Sources:
https://news.delta.com/turning-groceries-getaways-delta-teams-instacart-reward-skymiles-members-everyday-purchases
https://www.skymilesshopping.com/
https://www.amazon.com/gp/cobrandcard/marketing.html?&plattr=ChaseMS
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1pk2FJBhcg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8CPQE7Hdebc
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mllemouse · 1 year
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2022 holiday card
hi friends.
I've been feeling like i can approach tumblr from a healthier perspective lately, so
i thought I'd write you my version of like those family newsletters you get in holiday cards to keep everyone in the loop.
Uh, TW for like terrible mental health issues and sexual assault.
I last posted in October 2021, so to cover that bit as well...
that month i set my hair on fire over my stove and had to cut it up to my chest to get rid of all the singed bits. I was sad that my long long hair was gone, so I had my coworker shave me a raddddd undercut
In November 2021 i started seeing a few therapists after spending almost the entire year trying to get started with one and increasingly relying on friends and crisis lines to keep myself here. I settled on one therapist i really liked and still see him weekly.
In December, my coworker began sexually harassing me. It's still an issue and I no longer work with him one on one. Its brought up a lot of past trauma. My mum came to pick me up and bring me home for Christmas, but instead got COVID and had to quarantine in my studio apartment with me for three weeks. I didn't get COVID, but between that and the coworker stuff, i felt pretty traumatized by January. Thank God i got the therapist thing covered in november.
In January one of my coworkers quit, leading to a mass exodus over the course of the year. I'm so proud of my coworkers for pursuing new positions and getting out of this poorly run organization. My visa renewal application also began in January and was approved a few weeks ago, meaning i can stay in the country until 2025! And my employer has agreed to sponsor my green card app, after which I too am outta this place. I've learned a lot about distancing myself from work when the situation is so far from ideal. I also opened up to my closest coworkers about being queer, my history with sexual assault, and what had happened with our coworker in December (which continued into January), and we came up with a safety plan, plus i felt a lot closer to them.
in March i was still really struggling and my therapist recommended medication. I got a wonderful psychiatrist who gently introduced me to the appropriate drugs, not so gently introduced me to the pathological understanding of my mental illnesses. The first week I was on meds my best friend from undergrad came to visit for a week and we saw Tame Impala, which was incredible. Plus did a whole bunch of other fun stuff. I hadn't seen her since like... 2018? Despite the side effects of meds, being upset over my clinical evaluation, and overwhelmed at getting back into like going out in public and doing things, being able to wake up without immediately feeling suicidal was a huge relief.
April I went to Philadelphia TWICE in two weeks. Once to cheer J on in a half marathon and then with my coworker to a conference and sightseeing. I had really wonderful visits and can't believe I had never visited before then!!!
In May, my best friend from grad school and I rode the five boro bike tour. I made a goal at the beginning of the year to ride across the Tappan Zee Bridge and back, which is over 100km (aka a century ride) from my house. This was supposed to be one of my big rides to gear up for the century. This ride was not as fun as 2021, there were so many people and dangerous casual riders on the route, then we spent four and a half hours trying to get home cause the ferries we're overwhelmed. I had fun with my friend but I'm not so sure about next year.
In June i visited J's beach house after a gruelling exhibition schedule through May and June. i had a lovely time until i had a meltdown on the third day. I went to the beach in a binder for the first time and decided to just wear my board shorts instead of taking them off to swim, which was nice. J and our other friend began using they/them pronouns and my nicknames L and LG when they were talking with me in person, and it was super heartwarming and exciting to experience. It made me feel very special.
In July, i had my first appointment for HRT. They prescribed me testosterone right away, but it took around a month to get a response from my insurance, which denied the claim. I was crazy busy at work from August to the end of September and things really fell apart for me. I hired C as my freelancer to help on the exhibition be sure now there was so more staff left, which went really well. However, i stopped taking my meds and all of my good habits fell to the wayside.
In August i went back to Canada to photograph my uncle's wedding WITH COVID. My mum insisted that i travel even though I was sick and then didn't let me stay home for the wedding, because they had asked me to photograph it. It was really uncomfortable, but they were happy i got their wedding photos. Although, i still have not found time to edit and send them. Ugh.
In September i completed a 75 mile (100+ km) ride, meeting my goal of doing a century, but it wasn't to the bridge! i did it alone and it made me super depressed during and after the ride. I'm still evaluating what i want my relationship with cycling to be now, cause long rides by myself aren't really conducive to good feelings for me rn.
when the show at work opened in October, i went to J's parents' house for a Canadian thanksgiving/harvest feast weekend, met their dog, sister, and parents, and had ANOTHER meltdown. They told me they were dating someone--and it was incredibly upsetting, but i didn't know how to bring up my feelings about this. After my month off meds, i was a mess again. After this weekend though, i opened up to many more people because I felt like I needed to extend my support network.
I came out as trans to all my friends and close coworkers (mostly now former coworkers) in the city, let them know I use gender neutral pronouns, that I enjoy my nicknames, and that I was beginning HRT. I went to the pharmacy and got my prescription filled even though I had to pay out of pocket. I started testosterone on October 14th!! I cannot overstate how incredibly important this was to me. It felt like the most meaningful thing I've done for myself in my life. Coming out to people who i knew were safe helped me feel closer to them, and almost everyone was amazingly supportive about hrt.
In October i ALSO officiated my best friends' wedding. It was incredible, and really one of the best days of my life. Everyone in attendance was lovely. My speech and their vows went swimmingly. Everyone had so much fun and enjoyed ourselves into the early hours of the morning. My friends have the most wonderful community of people around them and I'm so glad I'm a part of their lives.
In November I got a new psychiatrist after my old one left the practice. She's ok, and urged me to get a primary care doc to begin keeping track of my blood work, so I'm building momentum for care in the new year. I scheduled an appt with a PCP at a queer-focused clinic in January. after a real scheduling snafu i got a follow up appointment for HRT in mid-December. I ended up missing two weeks of T because of this, which triggered a massive horrible period the day after my birthday. I missed two days of birthday celebrations, but the night out i did have with friends was pretty fun. Idk, i have mixed feelings about it.
things came to a head with J a couple weeks ago where they asked if I had romantic feelings for them, and when i affirmed that, they rejected me before i could say i didn't want to discuss it cause I couldn't handle the rejection in a healthy way. We haven't spoken since and I've been in a pretty bad place despite sticking to meds. However, I've been working through this stuff with my therapist since the incident in October and idk... learning about how fucked up i am is tough. I'm really sad about it all and still figuring out how to move forward.
I also tried to go to Canada for Christmas and couldn't because of the blizzard in buffalo, so I spent the holidays in my house again. at least my mum wasn't here this time.
I've been a little suicidal over the last couple of weeks even though I'm on meds, and only skipped a day recently. I skipped a few days right after the stuff with J happened and ended up going into withdrawal pretty bad, so I learned that lesson. So idk. I'm still trying to muddle through.
To end on a positive note, this morning i noticed that the hair around my belly button, the kind that like makes you the line down the centre of your torso, is getting darker. I feel a little bit scared but also excited. I love a lil bit of tummy fuzz and find it endearing that i can have some for myself. I've also gotten a bit more muscular just from the furniture lifting I do at work, and a few weeks ago I did planks for the first time without any shoulder pain since I injured it in 2012. I've picked a gym in my neighborhood to sign up for when i can get motivated to leave the house and return to strength training. One of the best things about being on T so far has been that it has virtually erased my chronic low body temp and reynauds symptoms, and is supposed to help alleviate my anemia, easy bruising, and PMS/PMDD (which have all been weakened but not yet eliminated). Like all this shit I've been told just sucks and I have to deal with is just disappearing. So eventually i can just be like, a person without symptoms of these conditions?!
Also, Fred and George are sliving. I found shelves on the street for them to climb way up high, and I started feeding the birds and squirrels from the windowsill. They love bouncing around the room and watching the backyard happenings.
I'm not sure I'm hopeful about the future yet cause things are still really hard, but I'm at least learning how to begin living on my own terms.
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Fred
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George
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holidayvisa · 1 month
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19 March 2024 - Piha FD (6)
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No Jordan today, just me solo guiding. 3 from SLC, Fiana, Karen, and sophia. 2 from Colorado, Chad and his son, Dylan. 1 from France, julie, who's here for a year on a working holiday visa. Out at 4:30, hiked back to shed by 4:50. Rode to Elise's house and started cooking dinner with her and Isaac and Evie. Jimmy called, and he had a really rough day. He needed me to come home. I apologized to Elise and skipped out on dinner. I went home and spent some time with Jimmy. Jimmy crashed out around 9pm, and I decided to drive back to Piha to spend some more time with Elise.
I crashed my motorbike, slid across the road and into an oncoming vehicle. I immediately stood up. Kau, a surgical doctor on his way to work got out of the car, told me to lay back down. He checked to see if I was alright. He checked my head, checked my spine, checked my chest, abdomen, and hips. I sat on the side of the road until an ambulance arrived. I got in the ambulance and was checked out by a paramedic. Elise came and picked me up and drove me back to her house. I'm lucky to be alive. I'm lucky to not have a broken spine, or broken pelvis, or broken ribs, or smashed skull. I'm so lucky to have walked away from that crash with nothing but minor road rash and two sore ankles. And I'm so lucky to have Elise.
I'm grateful for a really fun day in Piha Canyon. I'm feeling more and more confident in my canyon guiding abilities, and it feels really good when I have positive feedback from clients at the end of the day. It also feels good and confidence-inspiring to have guided a big group without Jordan. It's always nice to have Jordan, but it feels good to know that I can do it solo. I'm grateful for Kau; I'm grateful for his compassion and understanding. I'm grateful that he slammed on his brakes, stopped his car, and saved my life. I'm grateful for the ambulance workers/paramedics that checked me out. I'm grateful for Elise and her compassion.
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Hannah's Year Working Abroad
My name is Hannah and I am a psychology student at Bournemouth University. I came to Bournemouth through clearing, and although it wasn’t my original plan, I believe that it was the best thing to happen to me - everything does happen for a reason! I always knew I wanted to experience living and working overseas, although I never really thought I'd get such an amazing opportunity. I have been on holiday to many countries but never for longer than a week or two and never to live/ work. So this was always a dream of mine, to be able to fully immerse myself in a different culture and live among the people there.
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I went to New Zealand for so many reasons. Many personal reasons, like self-development and growth, self-confidence, to meet new people, to experience living somewhere completely new. But also for career-based reasons, to network in the field I am most passionate about, to learn how to be more business-savvy, the enhance my employability and to adapt my knowledge and skills in more areas.
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A friend of mine mentioned that there was a place available in New Zealand to be a tennis coach and work in a pro shop making sales and doing marketing and admin. As I had previous experience in playing tennis i decided to message the director, he got back to me relatively quickly to set up a call where he told me lots about the business, what my role would be in the business, and lots about New Zealand, he then told me to go and research all of these things myself, including the area I would live in, buying a car, finding a place to live, things to do around the area, the schools i would be working in, and many other things. After I researched all of this I decided to go for it. I thought it would be an amazing opportunity and a once in a lifetime experience where I would be able to grow massively as a person. I set up some more calls and before i knew it i was applying for my New Zealand Visa.
My placement advisor mentioned the Turing Scheme to me when I expressed my financial worries about the living costs in New Zealand. He said I might be too late to apply but I decided to apply anyway. The application process was relatively easy, I answered most questions with ease. Not long after i had applied, i received an email saying that i qualified and was being offered the funding, i just had to attend a call with all the information about the application process. Without the Turing Scheme funding I would not have had the experience I had. I had managed to save up a reasonable amount, but most of that went straight away when I arrived on a car to get around (a necessity for my job) and a deposit on a studio flat. After that I would barely break even each week after paying for rent, bills, petrol and food, this was mostly due to the 10 hours of shop work each week being unpaid. Without the Turing Scheme i wouldn't have been able to enjoy my weekends off, really see the rest of the country, or afford my flight home.
At first I was mostly a mix of excited, scared and unsure what to expect. I had lived away from home for 2 years already but I didn't live further than a 3 hour drive, let alone a 26 hour plane journey. When I arrived I felt quite alone. For the first 2 months I lived in a studio flat, this was quite lonely and wasn’t really working out for me, I wasn't feeling massively settled yet. So me and two other girls got a bungalow together, this was the best decision and all of our wellbeing went up massively, we spent everyday together after that including Christmas and New Years.
There are many differences and similarities between New Zealand and the UK. Both countries speak English, although the native language of NZ is Moari, most people will speak english. We managed to learn some Maori. The foods people eat are very similar, the lifestyles are also relatively similar. Differences are that New Zealand is a lot greener, the houses are not built up they are built out as there is a lot more land here, places are a lot further apart, there is little to no public transport, also people are a lot more social and friendly.
I went to some festivals in New Zealand with lots of the people that we met here, on my 21st birthday i participated in some of the traditions they have here, most weekends we would do something with our colleagues/ friends, we would often go to the rugby matches for the Waikato Chiefs and 7s where we supported the england teams. We also went to some cricket games and other sporting events.
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Coming to New Zealand has always been a dream of mine, so everything about this place excited me. Most of alli was excited to actually live and work here, not just travel, to start a proper life where I could meet new social groups, experience the culture and travel the country on my days off! The most challenging part has been the distance between me and my family and friends at home, not being able to see them at special occasions like birthdays, christmases, easter etc has been very tough. Also the time difference is very hard, it makes it difficult to talk to anyone in the UK during the day as it's a 12-13 hour difference.
I would love to be a Sports Psychologist, and although a tennis coach isn't directly related to psychology, I feel I have gained more knowledge in sports psychology than I even realize. Most sports psychologists will work with teams and coaches and individual athletes. Having this coaching experience first hand has given me a great grounding for my future in that career and I know there will be times in the future where I refer back to my role as a tennis coach during my practices and studies.
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I didn’t have many expectations for my placement. Having never been a coach before, I wasn’t sure what to expect. However, I wasn’t ready for the amount of planning and organising that came with the roll. Per week I would be doing at least 20 hours of coaching, this meant planning 20 lessons that are different and more advanced than the week before. I was expecting to have a criterion/ syllabus for each lesson given to me with tennis drills and what needed to be covered. I had to keep lesson plans of each lesson every week for each group and plan in detail for my next lesson, this was very consuming and difficult at the start as I had little coaching knowledge, but as the weeks went on, I started to build up a good set of tools to use
Throughout my placement, I developed my communication skills with kids and learned how to become a friend as well as a coach—someone kids could talk to besides their parents and teachers. Children would often confide in me about having a hard day at school or having a fight with a buddy. Although this isn’t my “job” on paper, I very much took it on as something that I felt proud of, to be that trusted adult. It gave me tools I needed to deal with players who would show up to my lesson upset and looking for trouble. Rather than allowing this, I could speak to the child privately and attempt to make them a little happier, which would ensure that my session went smoothly. Learning so much more about myself and really growing as a person. I am now so much more sure of the career i want and of myself, more eager and willing to explore a job abroad.
My greatest achievement during my placement would be when a primary school I had been coaching for a couple of months performed a Haka for me as a thank you for my time with them. The Haka is a very personal and cultural aspect of New Zealand that is greatly respected. I have linked the video that I took here https://youtu.be/2vQtKQDZG5U
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I think I have shown a good level of confidence in this placement, coaching and business admin were completely new to me when starting this job. A big part of being a strong coach is to come into a lesson with confidence of own knowledge and skill to gain the respect of the students and parents. Having a good rapport is crucial. Knowing that I had little coaching experience made this quite a difficult task when I first arrived, however, by acting confident in what I was saying and doing, made it a lot easier to quickly become confident.
If you are considering a placement abroad, I think you should research the country well, you should have your accommodation sussed and you should go into the placement with positivity and confidence that this will be one of the best years of your life but also one of the hardest things you may have done as of yet and that being scared is absolutely norma! If you aren't scared then maybe something isn’t right..! I would recommend this experience to everyone, however, in order to really thrive there in my opinion you'll need to be outgoing, confident in yourself, willing to be on your own more, and have a decent amount of savings/ a fund to support you. With all of these things I think anyone would have a positive experience and one of the most amazing and memorable times of their lives!
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simbi101 · 1 year
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CHAPTER 6 FIELDWORK
How long has your family lived in this country?
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How long has your family lived in this country?. My father Idris landed in the United States in 1984 settle then used his money to create a grocery shop that sells ingredients and many things African, Caribbean and Latinos can buy to cook at home, and items that people used back from their hometown once he open that shop, he was recognized on newspapers, Many people came to shop and were recognized for being the first to have an African shop in Baltimore City since the African community and people outside of Africa recognized him. Two years later, he settled down with my stepmother Eunice, who is African American, and daughter, Joani, in 1987; they had been married for awhile then. She later got pregnant with my half brother, Idris Jr. raised my brother from birth to a young adult (high-school). In 2001, my mom visited the United States. and met family and went back; then, in 2002, she was gifted a visa from family members and was gifted a ticket from her late brother. Later in 2002, my father divorced my stepmother. then a year later in 2003, he went to a party, and my aunt introduced my mom to my father. They met and got together, and in that same year, Mom got pregnant then, in June 2004. I was born; my Mom worked hard and was a nurse for over 20 years. till this day, on 2010 my father Idris sadly passed away when I was 5, it was just me and mom till this day.
Where did they come from?
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Nigeria is a West African country it between the Sahel to the north and the Gulf of Guinea to the south in the Atlantic Ocean, it is the most populous country in Africa, and the world’s sixth most populous country. Both of my parents come from different states / town in Nigeria. Both of my parents tribe is Yoruba, my dad is from Oyo State, and my mom is from Ondo State both states have their dialect and speak Yoruba differently. ( I don’t know much about my dad life in Nigeria), my mother went to school with a full family she had older brothers that were making sure she was focused in school and a little sister and younger brother and two family household, she had a job she was farmer and sold chickens and lamb and many animals in her market and also had a job at the airport. My mom was taking care of her nephew who was having a trouble in school in the United States so his mother brought him to the Nigeria to calm down and experience the schools in Nigeria because of my mom taking care of him the mother appreciated my mom being so kind that she gifted my mom a visa and my mom told her late brother he then bought her a ticket but she didn’t want to leave but my grandmother told her to go but my mom was worried because my grandma Is old and needs to taken care of.
Has your family embraced American Nationalism?
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Yes, my mother and my African American family has embraced the American patriotism. My mom likes American because she feels like she has more freedom and independence. My family celebrates 4 of July which is not common in Nigeria they take it really seriously because this is time for family time and Thanksgiving is another holiday we celebrate and have a family together, my African American family usually invite me to holidays like Christmas, Thanksgiving especially since it’s a great way to celebrate with family since everyone is busy. another holiday that Nigerians celebrate is Easter Sunday, in Easter Sunday my family go to church and pray and lastly my mother embraces the Nigerian culture then USA because that’s her home.
If some of your family have migrated from other parts of the world, how do they integrate their American identity with their ethnicity identity.
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My family connect from food, music, gatherings like church, party, cookout, and American dream. In my culture we eat similar food in west African culture but Nigeria make cuisine like Egusi, Efo Riro, Ayamese (Designer Stew), Ogbono Soup, Ewedu, Okra it goes well with Swallow like for example Eba, Amala, Iyan (Fufu) and Semolina. Jollof Rice, Ofada Rice usually prepared in home but mostly a party favorite. Another one is language for me I speak Yoruba small but I understand it correctly but can’t speak in a full conversation, even though I get judged for speaking English instead of Yoruba I think it’s because I was born and raised in the States but I think even if I don’t speak it I think it’s good that I hear the person. Lastly another popular one is Thanksgiving in Nigerian culture in America is popular in church they have events to come to church and pray and worship together and they give food and stay in church for about 3 or 4 hours (celestial church) this usually happens to family who are religiously wealthy.
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blogginwchase · 1 year
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An Interview with Laren Gillespie
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Laren is a 52-year-old Cayman resident originally from Edinburgh, Scotland. He also happens to be the downstairs neighbor of my Nana’s condo in Grand Cayman. I’ve known Laren for many years and had a feeling he’d be very knowledgeable on my topics of research. Over my recent trip to the Caymans, I had the pleasure of being able to get lunch with Laren and hear some of his thoughts.
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He’s lived on the island almost 25 years now and has been able to see first-hand the changes being made around the island. Laren had originally moved to Grand Cayman in October 1998. He originally had only intended on spending two years on the island because he was thinking of Cayman more as a pit stop before moving to Australia. He had been previously working in Edinburgh for three years to train as a chartered accountant. After finding out that the process for being accepted to move to Australia could take up to three years and they’re highly selective about who they let in, he started looking into other options.
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It was during that time that friends of his that he trained with in Edinburgh reached out. These friends had moved to Cayman directly after qualifying and suggested Laren move there to get started. He went with the intention of either moving on to somewhere new in a few years or returning home. He had never previously visited Cayman and was going to stay with these friends for a short while in the summer of ‘98 to kind of check things out and see if he could see himself working and living there. When Laren described his trip to visit these friends, he said he went “half on holiday, half to do a reconnaissance mission”.
Within three days, he had decided that he loved it and could totally envision his life there for two years. He talked to a few people while he was there about work and continued contact with them when returning home to Scotland. Shortly after, he had a few interviews and eventually a job offer. Within a few months, once the work visas and paperwork went through, he moved to Cayman. He ended up being in Cayman from October 1998 to 2006. That is when he returned home to Edinburgh to take care of family.
After a few years he was looking to move again, not sure where he wanted to go. That’s when an opportunity to return to Cayman came up and he returned to island for a new job opportunity. He has been in Grand Cayman ever since. What was once going to be a pitstop for Laren, ended up being his long-term home.
We then went on to talk about what Laren does for a living as a fund director in Grand Cayman. He described this by saying he “acts as an independent director on investment funds”. He also described Cayman as a “large international financial center”. Laren oversees people’s investments to make sure their money is safe. He does board meetings 3-4 times a year with the investors and the managers to go over the investments. He only takes up to thirty clients at a time so he can dedicate his time to each of those clients individually. He normally takes two or three board meetings a day and spends the rest of the day doing emails.
With his work in the financial district here in Grand Cayman, he has an insider's view on the financial state of the island and its people. We talked about the diversity of life and economy on the island. There are people from all walks of life with opposite ends of the spectrum of wealth. When I asked Laren to describe the financial status of the island and its people, he broke it down by levels for me. Starting at the top he said, “you have some very very affluent, rich people who probably don’t need to work a regular job like most of us, they’ve made their money, they’ve sold a business, whatnot, they have disposable income”. These are the people at the top of the food chain in Cayman. These people, the independently wealthy, have everything set and come there to relax, they don’t have a need to work.
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Laren described the next level of wealth on the island as “very affluent workers, people who are working in the professions. The legal profession is a very highly paid profession on the island. There’s a lot of lawyers, there are a lot of accountants as well because of the offshore financial industry, banking. So banking, accountants, lawyers would then tend to be the next socioeconomic there”. This was somewhat what I was expecting to hear. I was finding in my research that the island is known for their financial banking and offshore financial opportunities.
He then went on to describe the thriving tourism industry in Grand Cayman and the job opportunities that come along with that for people in the service industry. This would be the next level down for the socioeconomic statuses on island. There are many “restaurants, cafes, bars, that service people who are here on vacation”. There are also many souvenir shops and tours of the island for vacationers and those visiting from cruise ships. Going along with the service industry, Laren described the other part of that as “domestic helpers”. These are the people who work in the hotels and condos like cleaners and nannies and those who service the buildings like those working in HVAC (heating, ventilation, and air conditioning).
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After breaking down the different levels of wealth in Grand Cayman, we talked about the population and zoning of the island. Laren described the more densely populated area as “around 7 Mile Beach and George Town. And the island, Grand Cayman, really grew up around George Town the port”. 7 Mile Beach and George Town are both very tourism oriented with all the hotels, restaurants, beaches, and stores. You can see on the map below that the west side of the island where George Town, 7 Mile Beach, and West Bay are located seem to be the more populated areas. On the opposite end, East End, the area is a lot more sparsely populated. Near George Town is the main airport and shipping ports that create a lot of business.
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We also talked about the development of Grand Cayman in more recent years and the changes that he’s seen on the island while living there. Laren was talking about the rate of development and what he’s seen since moving there in 1998. He said when he first moved there buildings were not permitted to be over three stories high and there are now sky scrapers rapidly going up. Around 2000 the rule switched to permitting five stories, then it went to went to seven and they are currently at a ten-story max.
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(Personal photos of the high rise next to Sunset Cove)
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(Personal photo of one of the new constructions)
He also mentioned a rumor that in October of this year, they may be extending the ruling to thirty stories. He explained this rush to make buildings taller because “on the 7 Mile Beach stretch there’s very little spare land. Every square inch of spare land is pretty much built on”. He described the East End as being very low lying and having a lot of vegetation, making it not great for development. In turn, the 7 Mile Beach Stretch is “significantly developed”. He said the prices for land here have increased dramatically over the past ten years due to the rush for development and expansion.
Grand Cayman was one of the few places that had a positive impact from Covid in recent years. Most places had prices of housing drop while they rose in Cayman. People were thinking of the island as a pretty safe place to live. The island took lockdown very seriously. People were isolated, cruise ships were not allowed to enter the ports, and there was a mandatory two-week quarantine in a government facility for any flights coming in. Laren said, “They still kept air bridges to the United Kingdom because of course Cayman is a British overseas territory”. For a while you had to be a Cayman resident to return to the island from overseas, there was no visitors.
There was a negative impact on the service industry in Cayman due to covid. There was no inside dining so a lot of the workers in restaurants, bars, and cafes had to return home. Now that covid is more under control, there are more workers and visitors coming back to the island.
Laren said the population is about “70-75 thousand which is split fifty-fifty, pretty much evenly, between native Caymanians or status holders and those who are here from other countries on work permits etc”.
I was able to learn a lot of valuable information about Grand Cayman and its people through my lunch with Laren. He had valuable information on the financial status of the island and what recent developments have taken place. I also got to learn more about Laren himself, his personal history, profession, and hear what his life was like a little. I’m really glad I had this opportunity to learn more about both a close family friend of mine as well as one of my favorite places in the world, Grand Cayman.
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pasmy · 1 year
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Pelosi Step Down Democrat House 2022 2023 shirt
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Pelosi Step Down Democrat House 2022 2023 shirt
Everything that was in that movie is what my family did at Christmas. Mom and dad took my sisters, Lori and Tracy and I to see Santa so we could tell him what we wanted for Christmas. Yes the Pelosi Step Down Democrat House 2022 2023 shirt were long and my older sisters, two years older than me, would be with me looking after me as we moved up the line toward Santa and just like in the movie, the closer we got, the scarier Santa was. “Don’t be scared RJ, Santa is nice okay, don’t be scared now, we’re here,” Tracy would say as we moved closer. Of course that didn’t help me, but I was okay when I got there. I never cried. Mom and dad also took us to the Santa Claus parade. They made sure Tracy went pee before the parade because dad didn’t want to take her somewhere to find a bathroom during the parade. Something that he would have had to do if she didn’t go. And she went a lot. We would walk and look into the department store windows and see the toys and moving elves that the kids saw in the movie. Like Ralphie, I would get mom to order things for me from the comics, neat little gadgets they advertised.
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thedeviousdevilxx · 2 years
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Sometimes I feel like I haven’t progressed as an adult, or the way an “adult” should. Like I have no desire for marriage, kids, owning a home, having a “career” or owning a car, or like anything society tells us adults should have to aspire to. And I know there is no “right” way of being an adult, but whenever you see a fully grown 30+ person who doesn’t live alone(still lives with family or roommates), isn’t married or in a relationship at all, they are presented as “stuck”, immature, or stunted in some way. 
Honestly I’m just living life with absolutely no plan because I just don’t see the point. I really don’t. I’m not ambitious, I never was, I never had a calling or passion, I just feel like I’m just existing,trying to enjoy myself while surviving in the increasingly hellish landscape we’re in. 
Like when I moved to live with my sister for TWO YEARS in NZ, I decided that within a couple of days after my sister came to visit us and suggested I get a Working Holiday Visa and come live in NZ, and I was like “Sure, that sounds great”. That’s how I roll. Nothing to me is concrete, I just go along with whatever the universe throws at me. Like I studied archaeology but now I’m a fucking phlebotomist. Couldn’t plan that trajectory at all! 
It just sometimes feels isolating since most of my peers and coworkers are all; dating/married/engaged, have children or want children, want a house/in the process of getting house, or renting with their partner, own a car, went to school for a specific field and got job in that field or something related to it And I just can’t relate to that and it feels so fucking awkward when people ASK; are you dating? wanting to get married? have kids? and I’m like ehh no? and the weird looks I get. Sometimes I get a pitying look which is the worse. 
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hereiamtolive · 1 year
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STILL NOWHERE TO GO
Me coming back after, when is the last post? about 4 years ago...?
PFFFT i guess this would be my safest place to tell everything, so when i am no longer in this world, yes i wish people around me will just scroll around this blog so they will always remember me,, if they do want...
so what’s going on after 4 years? my life is getting complicated.., let’s say 4 years ago i was struggling with my fresh graduate year, still have those dreams to pursue, but not now.. i will just live and do anything what i want to do not planning and telling my friends that if you still see me alive on my birthday it would be such a blessing, since i turned to 24 years old when i have a birth day i would just be cryin thanking myself, you passed, and then a new chapter of a new age is comin
2019 
it was my first stage to enter “FUCK LIFE IS SUCKS I JUST WANT TO DIE” i guess i would be having a good job, good salaries, doing good in career but turned out i did not like my job desk, let’s say i was working in the wrong company. I hate the vibes, everything in there it was not suit to me at all, then i was unemployed for about 3 months, yes and i got a job ---- same place until now it has been 3 years and still counting... which i want to resign but don’t even do anything. My 2019 was good, the first time i work in this company i was so grateful, it suited my work style.. i have my own salaries which i think more than enough because i don’t pay for any bills , it was just all for myself. I was working hard motivated, you know “The College Wishlist” was just started, going to any concerts and travel! I could buy anything i want, i could eat anything without any worries, i went to my fav kpop concert, i went to hong kong with mom, having holiday with her just two of us, spent the the whole time so happy, and ready to travel again next year 2020!!!
2020
you know, let me introduce you with the main reason why you better die before 2020 came, COVID-19. yes, we start to have pandemic..... idk maybe still until now but somehow we’ve been recovery for the past months. I thought, just i thought i could finally happy and checklist all “The College Wishlist” but nah yes it’s still in the wishlist... i saved, i earned money that time, i can afford flights ticket - concert tickets just anything. Started to see Seventeen on Feb in Malaysia... i was so excited it would be my first solo overseas travelling, i bought flight ticket, hotels and anything but yes it got cancelled 2 weeks before D DAY, i was so frustated... not just like that, i had my second round holiday with my mom on march to seoul , south korea.. yes everything had been done flights, hotels and visa we should have just flown having holiday but nah.... covid cases were increasing a lot that time and no vaccination found. So, i decided to reschedule it, GA sucks they don’t refund our ticket so i have to pay 1/3 of the ticket price just to change the date to october.. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THE PANDEMIC DOIN BAD FOR MORE THAN 2 YEARS... yes and i still have the plans for MAY and JUN in that year. I have already bought flight tickets visa were done and concerts ticket for concert in Osaka, Japan.. i was so so i excited because if there were no corona i should have been travelling like each month lol, first to malaysia then korea then japan and on jun i have already bought return flights to seoul also lmao , you know i thought that earning money would be enough to feel those kind of experience but i think it was not the right time for me, i just don’t know why..
2020 was sucks, i am motivating myself everyday just want to travel and going to every concerts in any countries, and i can’t do that.. i lost my motivation a lot, my work partner left me and i have to work with “can-say-her-name-because-i-just-dont-like-her” 
i did not receive my full salaries for like 3-4 months but rather than 2021 it was a lot better... i still can buy anything and do anything regardless HOW MUCH I HATE FOR NOT TRAVELLING.. i lost so much motivation at my work while i was focusing selling kpop things lol, i had bad review from work colleagues and i did not have my salaries increased.
 2021
ah what should i summarize this year? this is my lowest year, i just feel like i want to die at that year, thinking every possibility way to die without feeling hurts. i was cryin on my birthday while eating my own bday cake in the end of that year, i never thought i would be still alive on that day, i was so sure my life ended in 24 years old, but here i am... next month i would be turnin 26 and still can write everything in this tumblr, i guess i won’t be die .. i guess my life will be long because i know exactly god been really giving me so much struggles and wanted me to be the strongest person, showin me the world is nothing... you just like born to the world only for “transit” god be showin the world is not for me. it’s just every days in this year, i wish i could just die, because i was to tired... 
2022
nah, it’s getting worse, still i feel being dead is a good choice rather than breathing, but somehow this year i can go travelling and go to concerts,  everyday its just frustating for me. Every days in this year like i want to die today but tomorrow i feel like grateful smh i guess i am mentally unstable, anyways will be back later, 2 weeks from now i would be flyin to seoul, ah so much anxiety coming but i will just pray, because i am so tired with anything, been dragging my expectation, i would just go with limited money because i guess why not, escaping for a short time, leaving the family behind that’s giving me a lot of depression,
see you will be back after my birthday,
i hope so
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officestool72 · 2 years
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South Africa Visa Necessities For Chinese Residents
For 台胞證 , please contact the related Chinese embassy or consulate in your nation of residence. It usually takes between 4 to five working days for a Chinese embassy visa to be approved from the date of submitting an utility, However, in some instances, the processing time may take longer and we advocate submitting a consular application a minimal of one month before the planned entry date. Applicants for a Chinese embassy visa must be sure that the passport used for the applying is legitimate for at least 6 months from the date of entry into China and incorporates a minimal of one clean web page. It ought to be famous that residents of Hong Kong, Macao, and Taiwan cannot immediately use their passports to enter mainland China for tourism. Unless they are connecting at a particular airport for less than 24 hours) they need to apply for the related travel pass. Visa-exempt overseas citizens are capable of travel to China visa-free for tourism for stays of between 15 up to ninety days, relying on their nationality. Not beneficial for vacationers planning short-term journey to city areas or journey to areas with no clear Japanese encephalitis season. If you are traveling from areas of medium or high risk, you are not allowed to go to different cities. If you would possibly be allowed to enter different cities or provinces, you will need a unfavorable nucleic acid test outcome and to be quarantined. If you’re risk averse, you may wish to both look into applying for a piece visa or re-calibrating your activities in China to fit inside the enterprise and industrial actions allowed with an M visa. Until then, the PSB will only be prepared to concern an exit and entry allow (出入境通行证) to your youngster. Apparently, as Edwin identified for Chengdu, additionally in Shanghai the exit-entry administration bureau is no longer keen to provide extensions to F visa. If so maybe the anecdote I provided above just isn't essential as it could solely be related to tutorial exchanges and researchers. Japan Visa For Chinese Residents If I go away China for a short time and re-enter, does my visa term re-set to day 1 upon re-entry? Or, does my term continue from the first day I enter China on a visa? Every time you re-enter China, the duration of stay will reset and begin from the day of arrival, not from the date of your first entry. You additionally need to ensure your visa is for a number of entry, not just single entry. The Regulations of the People’s Republic of China on Administration of the Entry and Exit of Foreigners, which went into effect on 1 September 2013, mandates some basic documentation for securing a Chinese visa. On November 29, 2016, all individuals carrying maximum validity (10-year) B1/B2, B1, and B2 visas in passports issued by the People’s Republic of China will need to have a valid EVUS enrollment so as to journey to the United States. Travelers who are topic to EVUS necessities however wouldn't have legitimate enrollments will not be able to obtain a boarding pass or enter via a land port of entry. The processing time for a Japan tourist visa is roughly 5 working days from the day the applying is submitted. However, Chinese vacationers ought to apply as early as attainable to allow additional time for processing. A Chinese visa is a allow issued by visa authorities of the People’s Republic of China in accordance with its legal guidelines and rules to a overseas citizen for entry into, exit from or transit through Chinese territory. The Chinese visa authorities will problem a diplomatic visa, courtesy visa, service visa or strange visa based on the foreign citizen’s status, purpose of go to and kind of passport. Businesses in both international locations, together with the tourism business, will profit from increased journey, funding, and enterprise growth opportunities between the two countries. Longer visa validity will permit students and trade guests to return to their residence nations during school and work holidays more easily. In addition, white-collar professionals who have obtained a piece permit within their permitted length of stay could apply for a piece visa together with their partner and minors who entered the ROC at the similar time. United Kingdom (except British Nationals passports) are required to hold an invitation issued by the Chinese authorities until they're arriving at Beijing, Shanghai or Chengdu. Non-visa-exempt nationals who're residents of Hong Kong or Macau require a visa to go to the Mainland. 2 - for holders of diplomatic or official passports only; visa just isn't required for holders of normal passports. Since 30 January 2016, any traveler who enters by way of ports of entry inside Shanghai, Jiangsu Province and Zhejiang Province can stay inside these areas for up to 144 hours. A similar policy was reported to be applied throughout Guangdong Province in late 2016, and has been implemented effective May 2019. Consideration Required! We strongly recommend that you contact your journey insurance coverage firm and direct all inquiries concerning any adjustments or updates to your policy at specialised agents before purchasing or planning a visit. Entry requirements vary depending on your nation of origin. Please verify your native Chinese consulate/embassy and airlines for the most recent travel requirements. All international arrival should stay in quarantine at a government-sanctioned quarantine hotel for 14 days. Travelers could additionally be topic to additional quarantine/health monitoring mandated by certain areas. Travelers ought to verify in advance that their visa paperwork are valid and guarantee no restrictions on journey have been put in place. Asymptomatic health care workers coming back from Level three international locations or from US states and different home places with CDC travel restrictions associated to COVID-19 not require a 14-day quarantine. Asymptomatic health care workers getting back from Level three international locations or from U.S. states and other domestic places with CDC journey restrictions associated to COVID-19 not require a 14-day quarantine. (This is consistent with prior analysis on influenza and different communicable illnesses.) Travel bans could additionally be most effective for isolated places, such as small island nations. All worldwide vacationers are suggested to observe CDC steerage forreturning from journey. International travel by individualgraduate college students now not requires case-by-case COVID mitigation evaluate by the OVPIA exception committee. Instead, particular person graduate student travelers are required to submit aninternational journey type. Consistent with long-standing university policy on pupil worldwide travel safety, no IU funds may be used to help graduate student journey to nations underneath U.S. State Department Level 4 “Do Not Travel” Advisories until the advisory relates solely to COVID-19. Australia On-line Visas Applicants should full the Malaysia on-line software type by answering some straightforward questions and paying a fee using a credit score or debit card. The eVisa is the quickest and quickest journey permit to obtain for Zanzibar and can be used by Chinese vacationers to explore the island in addition to Tanzania for up to 30 days. Simply fill out the form online, addContent a copy of the related documents and pay the appliance payment. The process for acquiring an eVisa is straightforward and quick, with visas being released inside one to three business days from the day of online application. It can be potential to request an extension before the visa expires. Any quantity paid by the Client to the relevant government division or authority in respect of the relevant software companies . 2.three To collect a Visa Fee in accordance with the requirements of the Embassies and Consulates and to ship passports and visas to Clients on behalf of the Embassies and Consulates. R.O.C. Travel Authorization Certificate.The holder of a ROC Travel Authorization Certificate may stay in Taiwan for 14 days, starting from the day after arrival. If you propose to stay in Taiwan for more than 14 days, please observe the instructions under and apply for a visa. This implies that you should separately enroll in EVUS for each 10-year visa in each of your People’s Republic of China passports. If your computer meets the minimal configuration requirements and you would possibly be nonetheless having technical problems, then this might be an internet browser or fireplace wall drawback. It could take longer depending on whether there is additional processing required on the application. After applying for the Z visa in your house nation, you'll be required to travel to China inside 30 days. In a span of 15 days, the worker and the employer must submit an application to the local labor & social security bureau to proceed and apply for the employment/work allow, which takes three days. One should get the work allow accredited inside 30 days of coming into China. After that, it takes at least 4-6 weeks to safe the issued work allow. Uae Visa Info Go to the PSB along with your passport, the accredited JW202 kind and the signed visa software type. If you're traveling abroad in the final month of ACC, then you might get an “L” visa immediately from the native Chinese Embassy. A single “L” visa lets you keep in China for 30 days. This “trick” only applies when there are lower than 30 days between your return date to China and your leaving date for good. Travelling to Taiwan from Mainland China requires the Travel Permit to and from Taiwan in addition to Exit and Entry Permit issued by the Taiwanese government. Applicants can confirm if an online application is out there by checking their provincial Public Security Bureau’s official website. Complete and submit all relevant paperwork to the Notary Public Office . Decedent’s family registration , or residence certificate issued by the native Public Security Bureau. However, this does not imply that you can visit each country as you want, there are only a handful of nations the place you can go visa-free with refugee travel paperwork. He Application Center will present applicants with a extra snug environment for authentication software, extra timely information consultation and convenient providers. It will strictly follow the relevant legal guidelines of China and the UAE to make sure the security of applicants' private info and paperwork. To guarantee smooth operation, the Application Center will cost applicants service charge. Information submitted by travelers by way of the EVUS web site is topic to the same strict controls that have been established for similar traveler screening packages as ruled by U.S. laws and rules. Airlines obtain EVUS enrollment information by way of their inner networks. On November 29, 2016, airways might not provide a boarding cross to a traveler who has a most validity (10-year) B1/B2, B1 or B2 visa in a People’s Republic of China-issued passport who does not have a sound EVUS enrollment recorded of their system. All nationals of The People’s Republic of China holding valid 10-year B1/B2, B1 or B2 visas who travel to the United States on a passport issued by the People’s Republic of China should adjust to EVUS necessities beginning on November 29, 2016. Applicants who're holding legitimate 10-year B1/B2, B1 or B2 visas issued earlier than November 29, 2016 will have to enroll in EVUS to use their visas any time after the launch of this system. Data For Customer Visa Humanitarian exemptions to this order might be granted on an extremely limited foundation and can solely be considered when the nation of departure lacks adequate COVID-19 testing capability. To submit info in assist of an exemption, please submit the required data to Ten Philippine Missions all through the US offer consular providers. To find out which Mission can help you, what the hours of operation are and the way to reach it please use our interactive Consulate Finder. While this notice references the 14-day entry bans imposed by the presidential proclamations, it didn't get rid of them. Information regarding the inviting particular person, including name, contact quantity, tackle, official stamp, signature of the inviting particular person, etc. VFS GLOBAL shall not be responsible to ascertain authenticity or accuracy of the data offered by the Applicant. It shall be the responsibility of the Applicant to guarantee that the knowledge supplied to VFS GLOBAL is correct, full and updated. In case of any unlawful, unlawful or prohibited use, the consumer shall be answerable for action underneath native legal guidelines of DRC as amended once in a while. It’s finest to both go away the nation and re-enter if you have a multi-entry visa (the 30 day clock starts over whenever you re-enter the country) or to simply alter your itinerary to match your visa. For all functions and petitions that you submit to this workplace, you should pay the fees to the us embassy cashier with Visa or MasterCard or in cash with U.S. dollars or Chinese yuan. Exit visas can sometimes be imposed on you because of your nationality, so examine the touring necessities with an embassy or consulate earlier than you depart. If you discover work abroad, you should apply for a work visa. Work visas are usually issued for long-term purposes from one as a lot as four years, but this changes depending on your work contract. Discover On Visa Facilitation Measures For Applicants Inoculated With China's Covid Like many countries around the world, China has carried out varied travel restrictions. In addition to consulting the next information, we suggest checking together with your nearest Chinese embassy or consulate for the most recent information relating to COVID-related travel restrictions. People who have lately visited such areas usually face stricter restrictions than other vacationers. It is likely that the identical policy will continue to be implemented going ahead. Remove the temporary suspension of entry into China with valid Chinese residence permits for work, private issues and reunion. He mentioned that if the same 70 nations that have imported vaccines from China enhance their vaccination rates, it might not help forestall the illness and as an alternative might lead to variants of the virus because of the ineffectiveness of the Chinese-made vaccines. Vaccines are extensively available and strongly inspired in China, however not everyone appears to be vaccinated. If a diagnostic take a look at is ordered by a health care provider, it will be lined by the GeoBlue international health insurance plan by way of Middlebury. If the take a look at is not ordered by a physician, the value of a check is 80 RMB (about $14). Online neighborhood since 2004Two days ago, I shared the publish "PU letter issuance temporarily suspended in Shenzhen" due to the policy adjustment, and that is the model new policy anticipated. The Chinese Embassy within the United States continues to be responsible for reviewing the certificates of Nucleic Acid check and IgM antibody check for China-bound passengers departing from Dallas. Here is the latest replace for passengers who check positive for IgM antibodies because of vaccination. The bloc's proposal stated that four vaccines made by builders within the US and the United Kingdom and accredited by the European Medicines Agency shall be valid for journey in the EU. Life in Guilin and at CLI has principally returned to normal, although mask wearing remains to be fairly widespread and is required in some locations. People applicable embrace members of the family of Chinese citizens or of foreigners with Chinese permanent residence. "Family members" refers to spouses, dad and mom, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, grandparents, grandsons and granddaughters. Purposes of visit applicable include family reunion, attending funerals or visiting relatives with severe sickness. Visa On Arrival Except as we explain under, you have to file Form I-601 with the USCIS Lockbox in the United States by mail. If you consider you have extraordinary circumstances that require expedited processing, you could submit a written request for expedited processing along along with your software when you file with the Lockbox. You can find additional instructions on requesting expedited processing domestically on the How to Make an Expedite Request webpage. Because of the small number of workers in our worldwide offices, you may experience a delay in appointment availability for biometrics collection. From 28 March 2017, Mainland Chinese residents are in a position to apply for the Exit and Entry Permit online if they are residing in a 3rd nation. To successfully obtain a Chinese Visa, candidates want to prepare some supplies to show his/her legal identity and purpose of visiting. The most essential necessities are basic paperwork, including your passport and a completed visa software kind. And supporting documents relate to your itinerary like flight ticket and hotel booking report and visiting schedule and and so on are additionally very useful. The only verifiable supply for the tourist visa is the hyperlink supplied on the Embassy’s website. Please do not use outside hyperlinks as they cannot be verified and will not be accepted. We encourage you to keep your data up-to-date to facilitate your entry into the United States. If you could have a new passport, you will want to enroll in EVUS before your next journey to the United States. They can apply to increase their stay for an extra 14 days for AED 250 . F-1 and M-1 visas may be issued as a lot as 120 days in advance of your research begin date, however you will not be allowed to enter the US sooner than 30 days before your begin date. If you wish to enter the US before these 30 days, you have to qualify for and procure a visitor visa. The 30 day limitation doesn't apply to college students returning to renew research – they might enter the US at any time, provided they have a legitimate visa. At the time of writing, the I-901 fee is US$200 for F/M visa holders and $180 for J pupil visa holders. J visa holders working as camp counselors, au pairs or in summer work/travel pay $35 as a substitute.
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hansolmates · 4 years
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the proposal (m)
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banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​
summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01
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“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 
“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 
Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 
However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 
Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 
“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.
“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 
Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”
“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 
“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 
“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 
At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 
Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 
Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 
“For fuck’s sake—”
“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 
You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 
He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 
“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 
“Done and done.” 
“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 
“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 
“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 
Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”
“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 
Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 
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You’ve been seeing red for days. 
While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 
You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 
Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 
The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 
Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 
“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 
“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.
Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 
“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 
“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 
“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 
“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 
“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”
“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 
“I know.”
“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”
“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 
“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 
“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”
“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 
“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 
“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”
“Trouble in paradise?” 
A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 
“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 
“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 
You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 
Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 
“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 
“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 
You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 
“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 
“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 
“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 
You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 
“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 
“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 
“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 
“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 
She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 
“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 
“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 
“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 
“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 
You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 
“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 
From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 
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“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 
It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 
The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 
“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 
He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 
“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 
“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 
“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 
“Uh… hot?” 
You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 
“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 
“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 
“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 
“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 
“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 
“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 
“Favorite movie?” 
“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 
“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 
“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”
“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 
The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 
When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 
“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 
A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 
You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.
When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 
“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 
“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 
“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 
Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 
Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 
“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 
“Hard.” 
You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 
Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 
“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 
“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 
“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 
“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 
“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 
You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 
The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 
Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 
You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 
“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 
Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 
If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 
In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 
“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 
“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 
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The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 
Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 
“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 
“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 
“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 
“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 
“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 
His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 
He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 
“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 
“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 
“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 
It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 
Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 
You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 
“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 
“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 
The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 
“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 
“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”
“Which means?” 
“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 
The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 
You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 
In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 
His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 
“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 
“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 
You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 
Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 
“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 
Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 
It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 
“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 
“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 
“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 
“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 
You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 
Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 
The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 
Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 
Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 
The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 
Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 
“Kiss kiss kiss!” 
“This is going on my story so make it good!” 
“Kiss him before I do!” 
“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 
As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 
It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 
He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 
Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 
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The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 
“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 
“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 
“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.
“Please don’t say it.” 
“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 
“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 
“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 
“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 
“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 
Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 
Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”
“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 
“That’s the one.” 
Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 
Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 
“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 
“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 
Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 
“What movie?” 
“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 
He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”
“Jung Hoseok!”
“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 
After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 
“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 
“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”
“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 
You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 
Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 
“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 
Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 
She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 
“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 
He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 
With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 
Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 
Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 
Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 
“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 
“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 
“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 
“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 
“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 
You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 
Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 
“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 
“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 
He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 
“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 
“Always.” 
Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 
“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 
As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 
You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 
“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 
“Already out the door, bossman.” 
Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 
You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 
The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.
“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 
“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”
And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 
“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 
“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”
“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 
“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 
“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 
Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 
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“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 
“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 
“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 
The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.
Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 
After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 
While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 
That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.
It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 
Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.
“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 
So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 
You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 
“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 
“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 
“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.
“Did you say something?” 
“I said, I’m sorry.” 
You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 
“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 
That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 
The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 
He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 
“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 
“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 
“You were worried?” 
“Shut up.” 
The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 
“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 
“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 
“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 
Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”
“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 
“But still.” 
“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 
You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 
Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 
He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 
You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 
“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 
Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 
He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 
You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 
The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 
“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 
“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 
He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 
“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 
He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”
Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”
“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  
You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 
He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 
“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 
His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 
“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 
“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 
It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 
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Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 
He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 
“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 
“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 
“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 
“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 
“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 
“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”
“You sure about that, baby girl?” 
You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 
“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 
“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 
And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.
“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 
He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 
“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 
You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 
“I’ll just warm up the car and—”
“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 
Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 
The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 
“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 
“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 
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Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 
But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 
“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 
“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 
Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 
“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 
“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 
“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 
You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 
“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”
“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 
“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 
Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 
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Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 
It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 
It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 
Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 
Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 
“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 
“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 
“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 
Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 
Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 
Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 
Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 
“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 
She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 
Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 
Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 
“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”
“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 
Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 
“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 
“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 
“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 
Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.
“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 
“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 
Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 
Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 
“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 
“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 
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You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 
“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 
“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 
“Yeah.”
“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 
“Yeah.”
“That’s nice.” 
[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 
[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit
[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)
[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 
[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic
You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 
“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 
“Shoot.” 
“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”
“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 
“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 
Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 
What? 
“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 
“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 
His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 
“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 
“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 
“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 
“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 
“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 
“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 
Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 
“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 
“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”
And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 
“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 
“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 
“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 
His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 
Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 
“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 
“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 
“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 
The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 
Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 
“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 
Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 
“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 
Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 
You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 
You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 
He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 
“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 
You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 
“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”
“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 
With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 
“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 
“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 
“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”
“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 
“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 
“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 
As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 
“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 
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Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 
Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 
Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 
“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 
Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 
“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 
“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 
You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 
“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 
Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 
“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 
“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 
He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 
“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 
“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 
You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 
“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 
“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”
“10,000.”
“20,000.”
“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 
You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”
“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 
“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 
“You say that like it’s not possible!” 
“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 
It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 
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The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 
Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 
Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 
“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 
“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 
“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 
Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  
“What’s up?” 
“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 
“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 
“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 
“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 
“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 
“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 
Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 
“Because we get along.” you say simply.
“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 
“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”
“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”
“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 
Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 
You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”
He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 
“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 
He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 
“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 
He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 
“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 
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You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 
It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 
Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 
“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 
“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 
The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 
“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 
“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”
“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 
At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 
They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 
“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 
Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 
Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.
“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 
Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 
But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 
You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.
A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 
“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”
“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 
He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 
The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 
However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 
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Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 
And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 
His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 
Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 
And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 
And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 
He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 
[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back
[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me
Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 
His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 
This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.
“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 
Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 
“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 
Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 
If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 
A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 
It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 
He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 
Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 
And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 
Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 
Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 
“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 
Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 
“I don’t deserve your trust.” 
“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  
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You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 
You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 
Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 
Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 
Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 
“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 
Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 
“Long version or short version?” 
“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 
“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”
Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  
“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 
“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 
“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”
“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 
Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 
“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 
“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 
“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 
You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 
Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 
Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 
Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 
You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”
“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 
While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 
“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 
Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.
“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 
Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 
“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 
“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 
Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 
“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 
“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 
“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 
“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 
“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 
You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 
Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 
He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 
Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  
With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 
Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 
“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 
“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 
“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 
Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 
And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 
Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 
“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 
“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 
“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 
“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 
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some months later.
“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 
“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 
“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 
“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 
“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 
“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 
Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 
Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 
“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 
“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 
You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 
He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 
You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 
He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 
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bonus.
“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 
Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 
A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 
“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 
“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 
“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 
“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 
You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 
“Hit us with your best shot.” 
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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years
Text
In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 32: Beginnings
Chapter 31
Read on AO3
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December 31
“Faith, baby, wake up.” 
Currently, her little face was smooshed against Jamie’s shoulder, lips open in sleep. It was 11:55, and Faith was down for the count at 9:00 this year, despite having made it all the way to midnight last year. It was probably due to the fact that she was up at three in the morning last night, stimming and screaming her head off with glee until breakfast, Risperdal and Angus no match for the will of autism and a wound up five year old. Even Claire was entirely too exhausted to be awake, New Year or not, but she wouldn’t have missed this party for the world. 
“Come on, lass,” Jamie jostled Faith a bit in his arms. “I’ve got ye a wee blower. I ken ye like those.” He tickled her nose with the noiseless paper blower, and she stirred, rubbing her nose roughly against his shoulder. Jamie and Claire both chuckled.
“Come on, Faithie! It’s almost midnight! New Year! Remember?”
Her eyes opened, rather reluctantly.
“There she is,” Jamie said. “Here ye go.”
He deposited the blower in her hands, and she seemed to completely wake up in a split second.
“I wish mine was sleeping,” Jenny groused, watching her son run circles around the coffee table with Thomas and a few typical siblings that were as hyper as he was. “I wouldna be waking him up fer anything.”
“Believe me, I know I shouldn’t be waking her,” Claire said. “After the morning we had. But little celebrations are very important to Faith. Right, lovie?”
The little girl was currently preoccupied blowing into her toy and allowing the unfurling paper to hit Jamie in the face. He was giving quite an animated, exaggerated reaction that was sending Faith into fits of giggles that kept her wanting more.
“What did I tell ye,” Jenny mumbled. “He’s a giant child.”
Claire snorted, shaking her head lovingly. “I do love that about him.”
“It’s good he’s found someone who does.”
Mary and Alex had been more than happy to add Jamie and his entire family to the invite list once Claire had timidly asked. She’d felt strange doing it; it was one thing to ask to bring her boyfriend that was practically Faith’s father, and entirely another thing to ask to bring three more adults and two more children that they’d never met. Jenny had offered that they’d find something to do on their own, that Claire needn’t bother, but Claire had insisted that they spend the holiday together, even if Mary and Alex couldn’t swing it. She’d been fully prepared to have the entire Fraser-Murray clan in her apartment. 
But Mary had been surprisingly enthusiastic about having Jamie’s family over, intrigued as she was by the man himself, and invested as she was (from the beginning) in their relationship.
“His sister is terrifying,” Mary had whispered after the first few minutes of the party. “She looks stone cold.”
“She’s not,” Claire assured her. “We get along really well. She’s really quite lovely underneath all that. You’ll see.”
With under a minute left until the new year began, Claire got up from where she’d been perched on the arm of the couch, and Jamie stood up with Faith. Ian scooped his wriggling son off the floor and settled him on his hip while Jenny reminded him with no little bite in her voice that he was not to scream and clap when the ball dropped.
“It’s a different kind of party, a quiet party. D’ye understand?”
“Aye, Mam.”
Maggie had been asleep for hours in her stroller, among a throng of other babies and toddlers strewn around the living room in carriers and strollers, but Brian scooped her up, careful not to wake her. Gillian slid in next to Claire and laced their hands together, just as she had always done for the countdown.
“Bit different this year, no?” Gillian whispered, smiling.
“Yes…a bit,” Claire smiled crookedly at Gillian, then up at Jamie.
“I hope it keeps getting different,” Gillian said, shoving her lightly with her shoulder. “If ye ken my meaning.”
Claire blushed furiously. Before she could open her mouth to reply, to chide her friend for implying right in front of Jamie that they ought to be married for the next New Year, the countdown from ten began, a quiet chant bubbling through the crowded living room. Jamie wound his arm around Claire’s shoulder, the arm that was not holding Faith, careful not to disrupt her grip on Gillian’s hand. Claire couldn’t put her finger on why that touched her as much as it did. His care to never overstep, to simply be an addition to their lives and never a replacement, always touched her.
“Five, four, three, two, one!”
Before Claire could blink, Gillian was loudly and grossly kissing her cheek, and she laughed out loud, grimacing in disgust.
“Of all the obnoxious…”
“Just staking my claim!” She winked up at Jamie, who was jolting violently with laughter.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…”
“Ach, come here, lass.”
Claire craned her neck up as Jamie squeezed her shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her soundly. Claire felt Gillian give her hand one final squeeze before releasing it, and Claire used it to cup his face. This was by far not Claire’s first midnight kiss on New Year’s…but God, none of them had ever felt like this. Like a beginning, a promise, a gift, all in one.
They had to break away when Faith’s paper blower kept smacking both of their cheeks.
“You silly goose, happy new year, love,” Claire said, giggling. She signed it, coaxing Faith to copy. They’d been working on that one with her in school, along with Merry Christmas. “Yes, good job, baby. Tell Jamie, tell him happy new year.”
She did, rather lazily and hastily, preferring to blow the paper blower in his face again.
“Aye, happy new year to you too, ye wee heathen.”
Jamie kissed Faith’s cheek, and she squealed, squirming away. It became a game; every smack from the unfurling paper blower earned her a kiss on the cheek from her chosen victim. Jamie and Claire kept it going until Jenny popped over to wish them a happy new year, and Faith was blowing into her face too, and getting kiss after kiss from her Auntie, her Uncle Ian, and her Grandda. She was acting like she hated being bombarded like this, but Claire knew she was loving every second.
Claire turned around to find Gillian, to tell Faith to wish her a happy new year as well, but she was a bit busy getting her own New Year’s kiss. Toni had been with friends before arriving at 11:30 to watch the ball drop with Gillian, and soon they’d be off together to get wasted until God knows when with Toni’s friends. Toni had initially felt weird about coming at all, given that most, if not all of the attendees were kids and families she worked with, and Gillian had scoffed.
“If ye think Mister Jamie isna going to be snogging his lass in front of all the kids…”
That had earned her a smack on the arm from Claire.
Well, if anyone was closest to snogging, it was Gillian herself. Though it wasn’t all that bad; Toni and Gillian knew better considering the company they were in.
Claire turned back to Jamie to see that he was looking at the pair of them as well. They both smiled at each other, then pecked each other again.
“Happy New Year, Sassenach.”
“Happy New Year, my love,” Claire answered, nuzzling his nose with hers. “Here’s to more beginnings.”
“Aye.” He kissed her nose. “You are my beginning, Claire.” He kissed her right cheek. “And my middle,” then her left, “and my end.” He punctuated his profession with another kiss, and Claire melted.
She didn’t think she’d ever find a way to compete with his Shakespeare-like tendency for flowery words of love…but she didn’t think he minded. 
——
January 15
Claire glanced nervously at the tea kettle, near to whistling already.
“It’s no’ a ticking time bomb, Sassenach,” Jamie chided.
“I know that,” she snapped.
“Hey…come on, now.” He sat down at the table and tried to meet her eye, and she obliged guiltily.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright,” he brushed it off. “Ye said her first interview went great. What are ye so nervous about this time around?”
“Last time I scrubbed the apartment top to bottom, I picked up every barbie and lego and dog toy, cleaned out any leftovers that might have smelled…” She put her head in her hands. “I could prepare, you know? But there’s really no preparing someone for Faith. Or vice versa.”
“I see,” Jamie said. He took her hand, rubbing circles on her knuckles. “But listen. Ye said she was sweet as anything, sounded like she and Faith would get along great. And even if they don’t…it’s no’ the end of the world. There’s dozens of other staff that Morgan can pull out of her file. One of ‘em, or two, I suppose, are bound to be a good fit. No?”
“I know.” Claire sighed, squeezing his hand. “I know. Thank you. It’s just this…lingering panic from the days where every introduction was a disaster, and the disaster was my fault.”
“Those days are over, Sassenach.”
“I know.”
The previous day, Jamie had taken Faith to the park while Claire interviewed two potential candidates for Self Direction staff for Faith. Claire had done research before their move, and had applied for the program as soon as she’d gotten her work visa. She’d been told it would be one or two years before things would be set in motion for Faith to actually have staff, which is why she’d had to resort to finding Mrs. Lickett and paying her out of pocket all this time. Two weeks ago, Claire had finally been set up with a broker, Morgan, and from here on out, Medicaid would be paying Mrs. Lickett and the two new staff. Never again would Claire have to stress about being home in time to take Faith to the stables; that was something staff could do. There was always staff with some of the other kids at the stables, and Claire had always looked on longingly at the relationships they had. She’d go with them, of course, for the first few weeks, get Faith used to going with someone new, but in the long run, it would save her a lot of trouble.
The tea kettle started screaming, and Claire jumped up to stop it just as there was a knock on the door.
“I got it,” Jamie went for the kettle, nodding toward the door. “Go on.”
Claire smiled gratefully, feeling frantic and rushed despite the fact that she’d been sitting waiting for Leina’s arrival for twenty minutes now. Faith was climbing on the windowsill again to see who it was, and Claire pulled her down, lest she upset her plants (again). Claire wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans before opening the door.
“Hi!”
“Hi, Leina, great to see you again.”
Claire ushered the girl inside. She was petite for her age, twenty years old with shimmering dark hair and olive skin.
“Oh my goodness, is this Miss Faith?”
The little girl in question cowered behind Claire’s legs, wrapping her arms around her thigh for dear life.
“Yes, here she is.” Claire cupped Faith’s head. She beckoned Angus over in case Faith started getting upset over Leina’s presence. “And that’s Angus.”
“Wow, Faith. You have a really nice dog. Is he your best friend?” Leina signed friend, and Claire smiled.
“Go on, Faith. Tell Miss Leina that Angus is your friend.” Claire crouched down, so Faith latched onto her shirt instead, hiding her face in her mother’s hair. “Go on, tell her.” Faith signed friend, still not looking at Leina. “Good job.”
“That’s awesome, Faith. Good job,” Leina said warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Jamie appeared from the kitchen just then, and Faith bolted away from Claire and right into Jamie’s legs. Knowing exactly what she wanted, Jamie sighed and picked her up.
“Hi there,” he said. “I’m Jamie.” He stuck out a hand for Leina to shake, and Faith buried her face in his shoulder, her plan to retreat to Jamie apparently backfiring.
“Hi, nice to meet you. Claire told me so much about you.”
Leina had been incredibly receptive to the unusual family unit that Claire had presented her with. She hadn’t asked any questions when Claire had said that the father was not in the picture, she’d smiled widely when she’d explained Jamie’s role in their lives. Claire hadn’t wanted to bombard any candidates with “the boyfriend” before she knew it wasn’t going to be uncomfortable, which is why she’d had Jamie take Faith out.
“Do you want tea?” Claire jumped in. “The kettle just finished.”
“Oh, sure, thanks so much.”
Leina had accepted Claire’s offer of tea last time, so this time, Claire made sure to have everything ready, remembering just how Leina had liked it. When she returned with it, Jamie was gently yet firmly telling Faith that she needed to play, that she could not sit on his lap until Leina left. She silently thanked him as she handed the mug to Leina, knowing that he was preparing Faith for the eventuality of Leina playing with her.
Leina and Jamie sat on opposite ends of the couch, and Claire perched herself on the arm on Jamie’s side so as to not crowd the girl.
“So,” Jamie began, chipper. “Claire tells me ye’re in school for special education.”
“Yeah, sophomore year at Hofstra,” she said. “I went into it because my brother has autism, too.”
“Right, Claire told me. He’s verbal, though?”
“Yeah, I’ve never worked one-on-one with a nonverbal child, but I’ve interacted with them in a group setting where someone else was in charge.”
“And ye know signs?”
“Jamie,” Claire chided quietly. “It’s not an interrogation.”
Leina blushed, but she laughed. “It’s okay, I get it.”
“She was signing to Faith when she got here,” Claire said.
“Yeah, I’m not fluent by any means, but I know some.”
“Well, neither is Faith,” Claire said. “She’s absolutely still a beginner, and so am I, really. Jamie is the expert.”
Leina chuckled again.
“So, remind me of your availability?” Claire said.
“I’ve got class and volleyball Monday through Friday, except I’m free Wednesday nights.”
“Well, ye need time to do homework,” Jamie said reasonably. “Especially if we eat up yer weekends. Unless you want Wednesday nights?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all! I’m totally used to squeezing schoolwork into my schedule.”
“Well, the more hours the better, right?” Claire said with finality. “Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday it is.”
“Wow, okay, great.”
Granted she gets along with Faith, of course.
“D’ye have any questions fer us?” Jamie asked.
“Claire answered a lot of them yesterday, but I’d love to hear more about what Faith does at the stables?”
Jamie then launched into the whole process, including her transition to a new therapist given the new situation. He even went into the science behind the therapy, why it was effective, how it changed children’s bodies and minds. Claire adored watching him like this, going on and on about the part of his life he was most proud of, Faith’s presence in that part of his life making it all the more sweet.
When the conversation petered out, they all knew it was time for Leina to attempt to talk to Faith. She’d been playing a video on her tablet and waving around a mermaid barbie, Angus’s head in her lap. Leina sat on the floor about four feet away from her and waved.
“I really like your mermaid, Faith. She’s super pretty.”
Claire and Jamie watched with bated breath, clinging far too tightly to one another given that they had company.
“Can you tell me what color her tail is?”
Faith kept her eyes on her tablet screen.
“Faith, I want to talk to you. I think it’s time to turn off the tablet.”
Claire bit her lip fiercely, her stomach flipping.
“Faith, listen to Miss Leina,” she said firmly. “Turn off the tablet. It’s all done.”
Leina threw a grateful smile her way as Faith exited out of all her apps and turned it off.
“Good girl,” Claire said.
“Thank you, Faith,” Leina said sweetly. “Can you tell me what color tail your mermaid has?”
Faith kept her eyes downcast, fidgeting with Angus’s fur, but she signed: blue.
“Yeah! Good job!” Leina said. “And what else?”
Faith signed purple.
“Yeah! So pretty, right?” Faith wiggled the doll, biting her lip. “Can you use your device to find colors?”
Faith picked up her communication tablet and said blue, then, when Leina prompted, purple.
“Yeah! Good job, Faith. What about her hair? What color is her hair?”
Yellow.
“Wow, you’re really smart.”
Faith giggled.
Claire felt Jamie’s eyes on her, and she glanced down at him. His eyes were wide, and he was grinning, making a “she’s amazing” face if Claire had ever seen one. Claire beamed back at him, and then Leina and Faith were shuffling into Faith’s room. Claire could hear Leina prompting Faith to name everything in her room, could hear the device answering, and could hear Leina’s praise when she signed colors.
“I’m seriously going to cry if this doesn’t work out,” Claire said. “I love her.”
“I do too,” Jamie said quickly. “Did ye tell her how much Faith loves naming colors?”
“No! I didn’t! She just knew exactly what to do!”
“Christ, I might cry if it doesn’t work out.”
Before long, they’d exhausted every item on Faith’s tablet to name things in her room, and then Claire heard the rattling of a puzzle.
“Do you think Leina is getting it? Or Faith?”
“Dinna ken.”
“Shh!”
“A puzzle? Do you want to do a puzzle with me?”
“She brought it to her!” Claire repeatedly smacked Jamie’s shoulder.
“Aye, I can hear!”
Faith, on her own, of her own volition, was inviting Leina to play with a toy of her choosing, one of her favorites, of all things.
“It’s working out, Jamie! It’s working out!”
“Shh!” It was his turn to hush her, her whispering getting a bit too loud. “Ye’re gonna scare her away, then it’ll be yer fault it doesna work out.”
“Oh, don’t even say that.”
Jamie squeezed her shoulder, reassuring her. “Nah, Sassenach,” he whispered. “Ye’re right. It’s working out.”
——
Valentine’s Day was a grueling Tuesday, a long day and a late night. Despite her exhaustion, Claire didn’t even have it in her to trudge up the staircase to her front door; it was bloody freezing outside. She shivered and breathed heavily as she fumbled with the key, opening and shutting the door so fast, she didn’t even see him right away.
He was there, as he’d been on their one month and a few anniversaries after that when she was working, and she’d somehow never managed to notice his car parked on the street any time. He was sitting with Amy, the other staff they’d taken on along with Leina. He could have sent her home before Claire arrived, but he’d likely not wanted to cut the woman’s hours short. She was a forty year old divorcee with children of her own and other clients already; she’d been looking to fill in holes in her week so she’d be closer to a forty hour work week. Faith got along with her just as well as she had with Leina.
“Hi,” Claire stammered, a little breathless.
“Hi there,” Jamie said, standing and revealing a ridiculous bouquet of roses. He never showed any shame in doting on her in front of whoever was there with Faith any given night, no matter how it made Claire blush.
She sighed with forced exasperation, given Amy’s presence, but she could feel her cheeks getting hot, burning hot.
“He’s just the sweetest thing, isn’t he?” Amy said, zipping up her coat, throwing her purse over her shoulder, and pulling her keys out.
“Yes…” Claire cleared her throat. “Ehm, thank you, Amy. She was good?”
“Oh, yeah, just fine,” Amy said. “I’ll get out of your hair. See you Thursday.”
“Yes, see you Thursday,” Claire replied, and with a gust of piercing cold that was there and gone, Amy left.
“Jamie…when are you going to—”
Claire was abruptly cut off by a mouth on hers, Jamie’s to be specific. She whimpered in shock, but then melted into him.
“Ye have no idea what that blush of yers does to me, mo ghraidh.”
This only deepened said blush, and he kissed random parts of her face, and it took her a moment to deduce that he was following the path of her blush, as it grew more blotchy and red by the minute. The longer he held her, the less often she found herself shivering, and she moaned in delight, stopping his kisses to bodily press herself against him.
“You’re so warm…” she mumbled, clinging to him. “I’m freezing.”
“Aye, so ye are.” He tenderly rubbed her arms, then took her hands in his, covering them completely. “This help?”
“God, yes…” she groaned.
“Careful of those wee noises, Sassenach,” Jamie warned, his eyes dancing with mirth. “I’ll no’ have much restraint left by the time ye’re warm enough to undress.”
She groaned again, this time in dread, shoving her face into his chest. “Can’t you just fuck me in my coat?”
He snorted into her hair, wrapping his arms fully around her, rocking gently. “Ah, Sassenach. I could make love to ye in anything, any time, anywhere.”
He kissed the crown of her head, and she shivered for an entirely different reason. “Thank you for the roses,” she murmured into his shirt. “They’re lovely. You really didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did,” he said, sounding almost offended. “That’s what a man does fer his lass on Valentine’s day.”
“And what about a lass for her lad?” Claire said.
“I got the Starbucks and chocolates at the stables,” he assured her. “Toni even heated up the coffee in the back room so it’d be ready when I got there.”
“That was good of her,” Claire said fondly. “Doesn’t feel like enough, though.” She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “Nothing I could ever give you would ever be enough to show you how much I love you.”
“D’ye think a few dozen roses are enough to show how much I love you?” He shook his head, aghast. “I could fill this room, this apartment, the whole island, the whole world wi’ roses or anything else ye could ever want, and it would never come close.”
Claire’s self-deprecating pout morphed into a liquid smile, and she kissed him sweetly. She shook her head as she pulled away. “Nothing I could ever say would work, either.”
He chuckled. “Dinna fash, lass.” He kissed her again, harder, more urgent. “When I hold yer small, hot body in my arms, and ye look into my eyes, ye make that face while we  make love…”
“What face?”
He hushed her. “…That’s more than enough for me to ken the truth of yer heart. Ye give me so much wi’ yer body, Sassenach. D’ye understand?”
Her breath caught in her throat as she exhaled with a tremble. “I understand.”
He kissed her one more time, then kissed her nose, then her forehead. “D’ye think a nice hot shower would warm ye up? Or d’ye just want to burrow into yer blankets?”
“No, that actually sounds like a lovely idea. As long as there are blankets awaiting me after.”
“Of course.”
“And as long as there’s a big, warm, human-furnace Scot awaiting me after.”
“Of course.”
“Although…you don’t have to wait until after.”
She gave his arse a smack, and he growled, swiping for her, but missing as she sidestepped him.
“Be a dear and start the water, won’t you? I want to put these in a vase.”
He shook his head, smirking darkly at her. “As ye wish, Milady.”
By the time Claire arranged the roses to her satisfaction and put them on a counter, far enough away from the edge that Faith couldn’t stretch and knock them over, the shower was steaming as she approached it. Jamie’s shirt was already off, and she fought the urge to lick her lips at the sight.
“You’re in luck, my lad,” Claire said. “You’re going to get me naked after all.”
He chuckled as he undid his fly. “How d’ye know that wasna my intention all along?”
“You brute!” she said, feigning an obnoxious damsel voice. “Baring my body for your own selfish needs rather than for my own comfort!”
He pulled his pants down, laughing heartily. “Ach, dinna fash. Your needs will be duly met, my Sassenach.”
Claire chuckled, heat gathering in her core. She sputtered then, realizing she was still in her bulky winter coat in the middle of the steaming bathroom. She made a mock-striptease of removing it, and Jamie shook his head, laughing. As each new area of skin was revealed, she broke out into gooseflesh, shivering violently.
“Come on, lass,” Jamie purred, now fully naked along with her. “Let’s get ye warm.”
The hot, nearly scalding water was a balm, and in a mere ten seconds, she’d stopped shivering. She sighed, leaning bodily against Jamie, not wanting to hold herself up, yet not willing to lean against the cold tile walls. She wrapped her arms around his torso as he slid his hands up and down her back, her arse, her shoulders, gliding smoothly in the water. When he took healthy handfuls of her arse with both hands, kneading and squeezing, pulling apart and pushing together, she could stand it no longer, and she stretched up to kiss him.
Oh, yes, she was quite warm now.
Tongues danced, teeth nipped, lips suckled, and Claire stroked Jamie’s hot, searing length until he begged her to stop before he spoiled the rest of the evening. Claire knew it was taking all of his control to not bend her over and have her right then, but he restrained himself, scrubbing her body gently and thoroughly, washing her hair and massaging her scalp with all the tender care in the world. She returned the favor, unable to resist a kiss here and there, as he’d been unable.
When they were satisfied with their cleanliness, the kissing resumed, and then Jamie was turning her around, kissing down her back, her arse, her thighs, getting onto his knees.
“Hold on, mo ghraidh.”
His breathy purr brushed against her, and she shivered, despite the chill in her bones having been long gone. She braced herself on the wall, not at all certain that she wouldn’t slip, and then he thoroughly devoured her, sending her reeling with his mouth alone. She came hoarsely, sharply, trying to curl her fingers into something but finding nothing but slippery tile. Jamie was on his feet in an instant, catching her around the waist, holding her up, cupping the tender spot he’d abandoned to stop her fall. She gratefully rode his hand, gyrating lazily, riding out what was left of her orgasm, her head thrown back into the crook of his neck.
He cupped her until the aftershocks ceased, and then his hands roamed up to squeeze her breasts, as if they were the only thing keeping him upright. He was hard as a rock against the small of her back, and Claire ground her arse against him, giggling when he groaned in misery.
“Come on, love,” she purred, shutting off the water. “I’m all warm now.”
Jamie stepped out and quickly dried himself off, stopping Claire before he was done.
“Let me.”
And, despite how painfully aroused he must have been, he tenderly patted down every inch of her, squeezed out her hair methodically, gently. He then wrapped her in a second, dry towel, something Claire never allowed herself to do, and he scooped her up in his arms, leaving the two wet towels on the bathroom floor, and carrying her, naked, to the bedroom. Claire locked the door for him after he shut it with his foot, and they giggled into a kiss as Jamie walked her onto the bed. He laid her down among rose petals that he’d likely scattered hours ago, and she shook her head at his thoughtfulness. She watched as he lit candles, resting her head on her hand and biting her lip to keep from laughing at the extravagance of it all. He flicked off the light when the candles were lit to his satisfaction, and then he turned back to her.
“Hurry back,” she whined, only partly joking. “I’m getting cold again.”
He wasted no time, closing the distance to the bed and rolling her onto her back, hovering over her.
“Canna have that.”
He unfolded her towel and kissed every inch of her pebbling skin, as if kissing away the goosebumps. He stayed for a while on her nipples, lapping at her there until she was panting and arching her hips into the air.
“Warm enough yet?” He smirked up at her from between her breasts, and she nodded desperately.
A man on a mission, Jamie tossed aside her towel and finally, finally straddled her, bracing himself on his elbows so their mouths were inches apart.
“God…” he groaned, kissing her one more time as his tip teased her entrance. “I’m the happiest man alive.”
“I love you…” Claire murmured, and then with one snap of his hips he was fully sheathed within her, as if the words propelled him forward against his will.
He tried to take his time, Claire could tell, but it didn’t take long for him to take up a maddening pace, slamming into her, and then rubbing rough circles on her clit so she could follow him into oblivion. She did, losing her grip on reality so thoroughly that she did not know where she ended and he began, did not know whose cries she was hearing.
She quite literally didn’t open her eyes again, physically unable after her long day and the activities she’d just finished. So Jamie tucked her in under the excessive amount of blankets she kept on the bed in winter, and she drifted off to the sound of him blowing out candles, only fully surrendering to sleep when he was once again at her side, tucking her into him like she belonged there, like an extra limb, an extension of himself.
My Valentine.
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x0401x · 3 years
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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #13
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Ramen Story
The voice of the owner as he said “welcome” turned into a mutter at the end, fading away. I could understand how he felt. With a light, cut-and-sew jacket draped over him, a blond, blue-eyed man had come inside, standing behind another man who quite literally had the air of a student. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to wonder if he was an actor. But we were just a party of two.
“Two people,” I indicated with a peace sign. We were guided to a table seat. There were no other people around. While we were at it, we gave them the meal tickets that we had bought from the vending machine outside. A couple of negi ramen.
“What a surprise. There’s always a long queue for this shop. So that’s how shops are like right after they open in a student district?”
In this shop, currently reserved to our exclusive use, I talked without restraint about all sorts of things – about the layout of the classroom building in my campus, about the hideout-like garden in the university’s premises, about my friends and even about my teachers. The shop’s atmosphere did that to me. The man who could well be the best listener in the world let me talk as much as I wanted, occasionally making an exasperated face.
“Here, sorry for the wait. It’s hot, so be careful.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
“You too, Mr. Foreigner. This is ‘hot’.”
As Richard replied with a “thank you, madam”, the old lady laughed fickly.
Now for the ramen.
Its soup was salt-based, warm steam wafting from it. That being said, it wasn’t as if there was anything special about it. We hadn’t added any ingredients, so it was a simple one. Fermented bamboo shoots, dried seaweed, fish cake and a large helping of green onions.
We silently put our hands together to thank for the meal, taking the chopsticks and parting them with a snap. I took the dwindled noodles, then opened my mouth wide and filled it with them. I tried to make as little noise as possible.
Delicious.
This shop’s ramen was simple, but it was a strong ally for a student’s cold pockets and quick-to-get-hungry stomach. It stayed steadily in your belly, resolutely reminding you for about three hours that you had eaten ramen today. And above all else, the animalistic joy of eating without thinking was more irreplaceable than anything else. Tasty food was great.
By the moment I was done with my very-IQ-lacking monologue of “thank you, o ramen; o ramen, thank you”, there was only a little bit left of the contents of my bowl. Still eating the green onion ramen without a sound, Richard looked at me with upturned eyes from his bended posture. Those blue eyes made me seriously wonder if there weren’t gemstones inserted in them.
“Hey, you got a moment?”
“As you wish. Whatever you please.”
When I prefaced it with, “This is serious talk – super, super serious talk”, he made a face that screamed, “You’re being too long-winded”, so I went straight to the point.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come eat ramen with me.”
I hadn’t imagined that the day would come when I could eat a bowl of ramen for 450 yen at a historical, cozy ramen shop in the student town with this beautiful man who usually only wore suits. I hadn’t at all. Even now, another side of me was still tilting his neck somewhere within my mind, wondering about “how things came to this”.
Ever since around the time I had started working part-time in Ginza, I had no sense of reality. Not even about the fact that I would later be going to Sri Lanka. No, of course, I was fully ready and had a Visa, so I was in a phase where all I had left to do was get on the plane and I was making the oh-so-busy Richard help me out with that, but...
Richard took a sip of the salt-based soup with the china spoon, then glanced at me. “So you were not expecting anything from me, is that it?”
“No way. On the contrary.”
When I said that I just didn’t think he would give me the OK, Richard’s lips curved in the shape of an arc, and after looking for napkins on the table, he realized that there weren’t any, so he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.
“I value the accuracy of your palate. It is obvious that, if you have a shop you like, I would want to try eating there.”
“Thank you. And for remembering about it too.”
Soon after I had started working part-time, I was introduced to a stone called chrysoprase. I once laughed my butt off when I learned that the etymology of the fresh green-colored stone included the meaning of “leek” or “green onion”. The topic then changed into ramen, and we, the shopkeeper and part-timer who subtly had not yet thrown off reserve with each other, talked about liking green onion ramen, what kinds of toppings we preferred, and other such things. I had kind of thought that “it’d be nice to go have ramen with this guy someday”. Back then, to me, Richard was someone as far-off as the moon and stars that shone in outer space. Of course, he was still as resplendent as the moon and stars even now, but he didn’t feel as distant.
Once I was done drinking the soup up to it’s last drop, I heaved a small sigh. “That was delicious. Last time eating Japanese ramen and this one for a while, huh.”
“How about putting instant ramen in your suitcase?”
“I ain’t used to making those. I’m the type that goes out to eat ramen rather than making instant ones. But there’s curry roux inside. Weird story, isn’t it? I’m going to a curry culture zone, yet I’m taking curry with me.”
“Analyzing Indian and Sri Lankan curry by Japanese curry standards can cause serious stomach problems. Beware.”
I puffed out my chest, saying that I had properly prepared myself for this because he had already told me about it before, to which the beautiful man gave a little sigh.
“May I also talk about a truly serious topic?”
When I told him that didn’t mind it at all and that I wanted to hear it, Richard looked at my face directly. It made me nervous. What was he going to tell me, I wondered.
“I did not think that you would actually invite me out for ramen.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I honestly did not.”
“Why?”
As I kept on tilting my neck at that sentence, which you wouldn’t think would come from someone like him – who looked like just breathing was enough for him to get invited to eat out –, Richard spoke to me reticently. He told me that people were quick to come towards him, but there were also those who surrounded him from a distance, watching him without trying to shorten the distance between him and themselves. So this kind of thing also happened?
Looking back, I was also from the keep-a-distance group at first. But I sucked at giving up, and whenever something that made me happy happened, I would be overjoyed no matter how many times I remembered about it, so every time I recalled the chrysoprase talk, I would find myself thinking that I should invite him out for ramen. It just so happened that the desire for this “someday” had amplified as the number of times that I thought about it increased, and I had finally voiced it this spring.
The shop was tiny and had a bit of a mysterious scent, but it was truly delicious. It would be closing this spring. I was concerned about what to do if he declined it with an awkward face, but the response I got after speaking up was a “When will it be?” without a moment’s delay.
“Was it okay to have invited you?”
“What do you think?”
“Well, I was just thinking I was glad that I invited you, but...”
The reply was a short-range smile. That slightly tired face with no sense of uneasiness to it was bad for the heart. But I was gonna get used to it. I had to.
“Still, was it really all right? That I was the one you had a meal with for the last time at a shop that you have fond memories of, I mean. Would it not have been better to do so with the friends that you always ate with?” Richard asked.
Hmm. So he was gonna bring that up, huh?
“Well, well, thank you very much for your superb consideration. But I’m glad it was with you.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m glad it was with you. Not anyone else; with you.”
I had learned many lessons even in just four years of university, such as that things were shifting, everything kept changing over and over, the green onion ramen shop would be gone, I would be leaving for Sri Lanka in the near future and there was no telling how my life was going to be from now on. But this jeweler was a man who knew very well how to cherish a memory.
Only to people like that did I entrust the things I didn’t want to forget.
Bidding a courteous farewell to the elderly shopkeeper and old lady employee, we exited the shop. Cars rushed on the Yasukuni Avenue. Kasaba during holidays was so quiet that it felt like a different world. As the wind softly blew, the cherry trees planted along the street shook and their pale pink petals scattered about.
“That was delicious, huh~. You got any plans for later?”
“I am going to help Saul with chores. We are not boorish enough to engage in business talk after just eating ramen.”
I stole a peek at his profile as he started chewing on a mint gum. The beautiful man brushed cherry blossom petals off his golden hair. He offered me one of the white gums, asking if I wanted to eat it.
I probably wouldn’t forget this sight. Even if that ramen shop was gone, even if my address was no longer in Tokyo.
Richard tilted his head a little, as I was still staring at his face even after accepting the gum. “Anything the matter?”
“Aah, sorry. Your beauty was like you’ve come from another world, so I spaced out.”
I then changed the topic, saying I was going to think about what to have for dinner or something. There were still lots of shops that I wanted to visit while I was still in Japan, though they were all set-meal and chain ones. I didn’t think I was able to hide my melancholy, but he’d probably act like he didn’t see anything. I was grateful for that.
In the middle of our walk to the train station, I looked back at the cityscape one last time and wordlessly offered a moment of silence to it.
Thank you for everything; I’m off!
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meichenxi · 3 years
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Hi!! I'm a college student about to graduate and my dream is to teach English in China and I was wondering if you could somehow help me and give me some advice. I have been studying Chinese during my years at university (and I love your blog!), along with my physics degree. I don't know if any of this is relevant but my level of Mandarin is not very high (HSK3), I study in the UK and I'm planning to get a TEFL 120 hour certification in June. Is this a solid plan? Love your blog, Isa
Hiii! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I have my final exams at the moment and am on semi-hiatus. First, what an amazing dream!! You'll have a wonderful time :D
SO in general having a degree not in English language and a TEFL certificate is most definitely enough to secure you a job, but at the moment it is a rather 'special period', as every job advert says, and so finding a job is a little trickier because of visa problems.
Basically, there are no work or study visas available at the moment for people from the UK. The only people who can get into China are those who the Chinese Embassy deems 'foreign experts' and therefore 'crucial to China's progress', and your company or school will have to provide something called a PU letter. This grants you the ability to actually apply for the work visa, though itself doesn't grant it. At the moment there aren't that many companies available who can offer that.
Because of this, I'd recommend going through a recruitment company. I do not necessarily mean a graduate scheme (the ones advertised as such are not very well paid and you don't have much control over where you go), but a recruitment company. You can find these on any general site if you google 'ESL jobs China'.
In terms of actual jobs - generally speaking there are three categories, private language schools, state schools, and international schools. International schools are by far the best in terms of packages, but they rarely take graduates without 3 years of teaching experience. The good news is that if you do find somebody who is looking for recent grads (if you go to a particularly prestigious university like Oxbridge, for instance), you might be able to teach Physics or Science rather than English language. International schools will also be the easiest to deal with in terms of communication and visa applications, but the competition is quite stiff, and most people who apply will be teachers in their home countries already.
State schools are another good option if you want 'normal' teaching hours, good holidays, and older children. The position I have next year is in a good state school that has two programs, the Canadian curriculum and the GaoKao (the Chinese university entrance exam). The main disadvantage is that you may be the only foreigner in the school, and communication might be difficult. I don't just mean with Chinese but in general: you will be not told things, you will be excluded, you will turn up to your class and find someone else teaching it and be told just to go back to your office. If you can be flexible and have an open mind, state schools are great, but they may be quite exhausting especially if this is your first time in China. You will also have to teach to exams, and the curriculum might be tight. For me personally though, I would much rather teach in a state school than the next option -
Which is private language schools. These are very good - sometimes. This is the main problem: the quality of the schools, the teaching, and the ethos all vary from school to school. You may be teaching very young children, and you may be teaching exclusively in the evening. The schools may be very supportive of creativity in the classroom, or you may be literally forced to teach the flashcards they give you. The plus about these schools is that they often have competitive relocation packages, are not too bothered about how experienced (or not) you are, and that there will be a community of other English speaking colleagues (natives and not) to help you integrate.
The reason I add this is that it's so, so important. It's very laudable and easy to wish for immersion and want to make Chinese friends - and you should!! - but living in another country without easy access to internet you are used to can be exhausting at times and even the staunchest believer in immersion is going to be stressed and tired and teary far from home. Having colleagues who want to improve their English can also be a good basis for a (somewhat awkward at first) friendship.
Some general tips: brush up on your English grammar. Seriously. Because the amount of teachers who have no idea and bluff their way through it is shocking and disrespects those who try very hard to make it a proper profession. Also having students ask you when you use the present perfect continuous and the present perfect simple and not knowing the answer is a very special kind of pain!! I'd recommend bringing a reputable grammar book with you, and using it when making your lesson plans.
Re Chinese: if you already have a little, your Chinese will improve so much when you're there!! Don't stress about it because China is a wonderful environment for learning - it's literally perfect, few people speak English and EVERYBODY wants to speak to you as many people are direct and very curious - but at the same time, the more you can learn, the easier it will be. Don't neglect your characters!! Learning useful menu characters and signs will be hugely helpful too. You won't need Chinese in your job really, but you definitely will in your daily life, so well done for learning and keep at it!!
The other thing I would say is: sort out your music and your social media and your banking before going to China. This includes a good VPN. You can't download apps on the google App Store, and to make the transition to the Chinese internet easier, I'd recommend getting a Weibo account, any music app, Baidu translate and maps and so on, and accustoming yourself to that before going.
Re where you are going and the package: you should have your flight paid, help with your visa, and transparency about quarantine procedures. You should also have accommodation or an accommodation allowance of between 2000-5000 (2000 is more than fine). Public or international schools may pay for your food during school-time as well. Re cities: prioritise what is important to you. If you want to save, bear in mind that China is extraordinarily cheap and that even in places like Shanghai, you can still save a lot if you live somewhat sensibly. To give you some context: I lived in Tianjin, a second-tier city, and I got 'pocket money' of 2000 every month (with accommodation and food paid), and I managed to save enough to do martial arts for a month at an academy after 5 months. And I was living well - going out about twice a week, taking taxis, eating out almost every evening (cheap food). So don't prioritise one position over another solely because of money, and also bear in mind kindergarten teachers may only be getting about 2000-3000 a month - so regardless of whether you earn 10,000 or 15,000, it's a) SIGNIFICANTLY enough to live very well and save very well too, and b) considerably more than many of your coworkers will be earning.
Also, different cities have different costs of living: 10,000 somewhere like Hangzhou will go considerably further than 16,000 in Shanghai. Another thing to bear in mind is the air quality, and the environment, and the access to green spaces. DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THIS. If this is important to you, go somewhere smaller or in the south with access to nature - I nearly went crazy living in such a big city with such poor air quality. The positions I had to choose between were one in Shanghai, better paid and at a better school, and a position in Zhuhai in a campus in the mountains, in a third-tier city by the sea. I know now how important green is to me, how much I prefer a more relaxed pace of life, and so I chose the latter.
Lastly, don't be intimidating and don't be afraid to ask questions about your job. Make sure that everything they say is in the contract, in both the English version and the Chinese version. This is important because only the Chinese version is legal, so if you have a friend, get them to check that the same stuff is in each bit of the contract. Communication might be difficult, but don't be afraid to be direct and press for answers, don't just accept what you're told. You might be messed around with a bit, so it's important to 'shop around' for positions - don't feel bad if you do so, and don't be afraid to turn things down that don't suit. Finally, don't feel terrified if you can't find information about a school online - a lot of stuff isn't on Google, and will also be better accessed via WeChat or mini programs. Not finding information about your school or city does not mean it doesn't exist!!
So be prepared for a wild ride - and enjoy! If you have any more questions about any of this, please feel free to ask at any time!
meichenxi out :P
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