Do Yall Ever Think About How Chenle And Jisung Would Have Been In The Class Of 2020 (chenle: Dec 2001,

do y’all ever think about how chenle and jisung would have been in the class of 2020 (chenle: dec 2001, jisung: feb 2002)

tag game !

— tagged by: @luvdsc

— tagging: @euphoria-vmin7

post your lockscreen, homescreen, last song you listened to, last idol, meme and screenshot you saved !!

my lockscreen: when i went to visit boston

my home screen: my cousins and i after family pictures

(and technically my most recent screenshot was the conversation where my friend sent a picture of renjun and his mullet, but the pic i have for it is the second recent)

also i wasn't sure if i could do video memes too and this was my most recent so:

“noooooo”

hey just a heads up the links in your description don’t work!

i know :(( i keep forgetting to take them down haha 😅 (actually i’ll do that now)

i’ll be using them for my masterlist/about pages once i’ve posted a couple more stories, but thanks for letting me know! 💖💕

edit: they’re fixed now !!

tag game !

aesthetic: show very little skin while still trying to pull off the soft aspect and that means SWEATERS

me looking like a prep because i really am 😅

also me with a beret because berets are for all seasons, i absolutely love berets and i own two asdlfkjsdfjg

create yourself using this site !!!

— tagged by: @luvdsc ​◦

— tagging: @euphoria-vmin7​ (only if you want to!!) ◦

awww thank you bby 🥺💓 I love YOU so much 💘💖💕💗

water glass | h.rj.

pairing: renjun x reader

genre: restaurant au, college au, angst, fluff, waiter!renjun

word count: 5,746

warnings: mentions of date drugs, suggestive intentions

summary: a dinner date gone wrong… or, if you look at it another way, a dinner date that almost got you in a terrible situation. almost.

a/n: not sure i really like the prompt of the way this date goes wrong, but renjun as a waiter? yes, always yes, 1000 times yes (also yikes the editing on the title in the picture rip XD) (also this is a repost because tags weren’t working the first time i posted this, i’m not sure why hjhdfjgfd)

Ever since you had laid eyes on Shin Youngjin, you’ve been harboring the largest crush on him. He was perfect — his voice had a comforting effect on people, his intelligence was said to be as sharp as his jawline, and every time he ran a hand through his hair, you felt yourself melt.

Unfortunately, you had been told by many individuals that Youngjin didn’t date — in fact, no one had ever seen him on campus with a girl longer than “was necessary”, which you took to interpret as “conversation made for class purposes only”.

But fortunately for you… he had seemed to make an exception.

Keep reading

lilacs | p.jm. (bts)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: florist au, fluff

word count: 800

warnings: none

summary: jimin has always given you flowers — since he’s the main worker at the florist shop and that’s his job — but he’s never actually given you flowers. until today.

a/n: my friend @euphoria-vmin7 and i were talking about timestamps and florist jimin (because who doesn’t want to talk about florist jimin?) and uhhh somehow this happened and i texted this to her and she was like POST IT so here this is XD i don’t usually write fics for bts and i’m sorry if this sucks, but this is dedicated to you miss rey, thank you for inspiring me 💖💖💖

(also i’m still having tag issues so this is a repost, sorry T^T)

The small flower shop by the beach has always been one of your favorite places to visit. At times you’ve found yourself there, sometimes browsing, occasionally buying, but often talking to the lovely florist with the chocolatey brown hair.

He had told you his name was Jimin, and ever since the first time you’ve set foot in his shop, he’s always been helpful in suggesting flowers for whatever occasion you bring to him. He also seems to have a special talent for assembling bouquets — never overdone yet never lacking, and every single flower is arranged perfectly, not a petal out of place.

Yet one day you come to him in distress, longing to be comforted by the warm glow of the late afternoon sun and the boy who now occupies a rather large space in your heart. In a few months, all your closest friends since childhood will be moving to universities, while you have chosen to stay in the same town you grew up in.

You tell him none of this, but he notices your expression and wordlessly brings out a bouquet from behind the counter. How did he make it so soon after you walked through the door?

Unless… he had started it earlier…

And he gives it to you, a textured array of purples and pinks. “What’s this?” you ask.

“It’s for you,” he says, the tips of his ears turning red. “I — I’ve been meaning to make you one for a while.”

You gently touch one of the larger flowers, the petals feeling velvety under your fingers. “For… me?”

“Yeah,” he says, hoping you don’t notice how flustered he’s getting.

Knowing Jimin, he was a flower expert and never added anything without first giving it a great deal of thought. “What do they mean?” you ask, the plastic wrap crinkling loudly in the small shop as you lower it and gaze up at him.

He feigns innocence. “What does what mean?”

“The flowers, what do they represent?”

“Oh, um…” He bites his bottom lip nervously and gestures to the pink flowers. “These are peonies. They represent prosperity, compassion, and sometimes shyness.” Hmm, now that he mentions it, you are starting to feel a bit shy in his presence. Maybe he’s right about that last part.

“And these, uh…” He points to the small flowers that are a darker shade of purple. “These magenta ones are lilacs. They symbolize passion, and — and I remember you told me about your passion for music and dance… so that’s why I added them. Mmhm.”

But you realize that the entire time, he hasn’t yet mentioned the lighter purple flowers — a different kind of lilac, since they look similar to the ones he’s just described. They’re the most abundant in the bouquet, but he hasn’t explained them yet. Almost as if he’s been avoiding bringing it up.

“And what are these ones?” You hold up one of the buds with a lifted finger.

“Um…” He visibly swallows, and he immediately realizes that maybe he’s made a mistake in giving this to you. “Umm…”

You wait patiently for his answer, which he eventually delivers. “Theymeanfirstlove,” he says quickly, his cheeks flushing.

You lean forward to hear better. “What was that?”

“They — they mean… first love,” he mumbles. “And so do the rest of them,” he confesses. “They all mean — they mean love.” And he glances up to see your reaction, only to find that your face is just as red as his. “Y-yeah,” he finishes awkwardly and looks away. “Sorry…”

“Sorry?” You stare at him in awe. “Jimin, this is — this is really sweet of you, thank you.” You hand it back to him, careful not to mess up the bouquet, and that’s when Jimin knows that he’s made a huge mistake. He’s ruined it, hasn’t he, he’s ruined his friendship with you, and he’s —

“For you too,” you say, trying to stare at anything else that isn’t him out of embarrassment. “I — I mean all of those things, too, Jimin.”

His mouth forms an “O” shape and his eyes widen. “So… you’re saying… you feel the same w—”

His words are abruptly cut off by the sensation of your lips to his cheek. “Yeah,” you say shyly as you step back. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then is it okay if I —” He stops, glancing between your irises for any sign of permission. He finds it in the way your eyes crinkle as you smile, and takes that as his cue to lean forwards and press his plush lips against yours.

As sunlight ventures into the shop through wooden blinds, the beams dance over your back and the collar of Jimin’s shirt, illuminating the room with the final light of the day and the first light for the two of you.