#THEY SHARE THEIR PAIN BECAUSE THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

"Chiquitita" by ABBA is so Jacques and Josée to me

Specifically, Jacques singing to his best friend in the whole world to cheer her up when he knows something's troubling her

[cartoonybus]

im obsessed with the idea that danny was in love with bobbi and sherman for decades but was so deep in the closet it didn't hit him until after the band reformed

[bumblingbabooshka]

A Star Trek Novel called “Pocket Full of Lies” really has NO business going so hard.

[evilminji]

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

[asidian]

Alright. It is time. Buckle up.

Why you should be watching Dead Boy Detectives: the targeted-specifically-at my-readers edition.

Meet the leads, our two ghost boys:

Edwin Payne: Fussy, repressed intellectual type from the Edwardian era. Exceedingly gay for his partner and best friend. Tortured in hell for seventy years on a technicality because he was ritually sacrificed as a prank gone wrong. Endearingly awful at people and dealing with emotions or his own wants.

Charles Rowland: Impulsive, people-pleasing wildcard from the 80s. Heart eyes 24/7 at his best friend but has zero self-awareness. Badly abused by his asshole of a father. Beaten to death because he saved a kid from bullies. Endearingly awful at sorting his own emotions or talking about his problems.

Some highlights:

/slaps hood you can fit so much trauma in these two

Both leads get sobbing breakdowns that happen on screen. The actors are incredible at crying

Both leads get much-needed hugs

The absolute devotion between the two of them. The shared history that lives in their dialogue and how they work together like people who have been each other's Most Important Person for literal decades

I mean, I'm talking in-canon Orpheus and Eurydice reference level of devotion here

The protective way Charles puts himself physically between Edwin and damn near every threat in the show

They're just fun together. Their interactions and banter and how they work as a team is a delight

Their shared plot arc literally involves them learning to talk to each other and communicate more so that they can be there for one another about their respective issues

The symbolism. God. They are metaphorically and literally one another's light in the darkness

But what about stuff that isn't the main duo? Just wait, there's more:

This show is unabashedly, unapologetically queer. It's there in the text and the subtext. The whole show lives and breathes it

So many good, complex, well-written female characters. The Bechdel test gets blown straight out of the water in episode one and they never look back. Headstrong amnesiac psychic learning to be a better person! Quirky meta commentary matchmaker! Cynical lesbian butcher! Delightfully sadistic witch! They are all amazing.

[audience voice] But I'm here for the hurt/comfort. How can I whump ghosts? Worry not, my friends. Canon has you covered. Not only are there ways, there are ways that happen on-screen. The hurt/comfort and rescue are also on-screen. Yes, it is amazing

Absolute chaos, really cool supernatural cases and creatures, a surprising amount of humor, charming writing, and a cast that absolutely nails it on the acting and chemistry

There is an extremely suggestive trickster type who is also the king of cats. He's a cat in human form. He hits on Edwin nonstop. Charles gets blisteringly jealous

All of the leads have well-thought-through, fully developed, emotional character arcs. They're all messy and flawed and sometimes lash out in their pain, but at turns can be incredibly supportive and kind and loyal

A character who is a crow who is also a boy, who is tortured by his witch/creator and also is crushing hard on one of the leads

There are so many incredible details in the setting, costume choices, prop decisions, etc. that you only catch after you know what it's laying the groundwork for. The level of care that went into this show is phenomenal

It's only eight episodes. The time investment barrier to entry could not possibly be lower

Anyway, tl;dr, if any of this sounds appealing to you, you should give this show a watch.

Dead Boy Detectives is well worth your time. It's easily my favorite show in years.

[consoledacup]

In order to fully understand Colin's reaction to the Lady Whistledown reveal and how he processes everything moving forward, you have to think about the entire season, the entire series really, through his point of view. I have no problems with the part 1/2 split. It made the anticipation that much more intense, and it worked out perfectly with their love story. But you can't separate one part from the other when you're thinking about his character.

In Colin's mind, the end of episode 4 is his happily ever after. That's it. He did it. He took action. He was the Cupid to her Psyche and played god and rescued her from a loveless match. He made shit happen and told her how he felt and they shared that moment in the carriage, and he gleefully proposed. He saved the girl and got the girl, and what a remarkable, enchanting, beautiful girl she is.

And aside from Eloise and Cressida, everyone's obsessed with their relationship. They're the true love match with a great story, and how lucky he is to fall in love with his best friend. And she's showing hints of unease, but maybe that's just wedding jitters. Or maybe she's mourning her relationship with Eloise which is why he keeps trying to get them to make up. Or maybe she doesn't feel as secure with him as she would've with Debling, even though she'd never tell him that. He is the third son after all. And he still has no idea how in love with him she is.

So when she tells him how she's always loved him, he's warmed but also wracked with guilt. Because if he had only taken his stupid head out of his ass, he would've figured out why her letters meant so much to him or why he was eager to participate in an investment with her family or why her lack of response the past summer devastated him. He thought he was the instigator of their love. He's the one who laid himself bare and was like, is it possible you feel a fraction of what I feel for you? And to find out that she did always love him made him feel so undeserving. Because why would this exquisite siren still want anything to do with him after all that he put her through?

There is an incredible scene that I think deserves a lot more gravitas. The minute Penelope mourns Lady Whistledown and burns her issues, it cuts to Colin getting over his writer's block as he writes with great enthusiasm. It's like, he's unknowingly siphoning her power. He is Cupid and a writer and her protector and her provider and so madly in love. And he will finish his manuscript, and he will make things right with Penelope and Eloise. And he and Penelope will have the perfect life together.

And then everything he thought he knew about Penelope, about friendship, about love, is completely shattered. She rips his power from him, and he is absolutely gutted. She has been the mastermind this entire time, and he was none the wiser. And what part of their love story was even real? At which point was he manipulated into doing what she wanted him to do? And while he was helping her with her confidence, and telling her how changed of an individual he was, she not only saw through him but broadcasted his insecurities to the entire ton?

He's still so desperately in love that he remains steadfast in marrying her. But he cannot get over his fury and hurt and betrayal at that point. Which makes so much sense. It's painful to see him lash out and withdraw from her, but he's absolutely reeling.

And on top of all that, he is humiliated. He thinks about everything she said about his own writing. She told him how he made it seem effortless, which is such a great compliment. And he's like, I don't want you to edit my manuscript because I want to prove to you that I'm worthy of you. And he might be thinking, I can even give her some pointers for her own writing! What fun we'll have with more lessons. To find out that she's the talented, sharpest, most prolific writer in the ton fully emasculates him. He feels like she was patronizing him all along.

He brings that part up, and she's like, no, I meant everything I said about your writing. But he doesn't believe her and immediately switches the conversation to her dangerous predicament, so he can at least, at the very least, offer himself up as her protector. It worked before when he danced with Penelope after Cressida ruined her dress, when he rescued Marina from Rutledge, when he helped save Daphne's reputation, when he saved Penelope's family from Cousin Jack, when he helped save Will's business, when he kissed Penelope, when he saved her from the balloon, when he defended her to her mother... If he can't be the provider, he can be the protector. And she doesn't even want that from him. She's the knight in shining armor. She's Don Quixote. Not him. Never him.

So he is grappling with his role in their union. He figures it out, but it takes him a little bit to get there. And in the process, he not only remains in love with Penelope the entire time, but he also falls head over heels for Lady Whistledown.

[russellsppttemplates]

Are you staying? (Logan Sargeant)

Before the Miami GP, you fly over to spend some days with your boyfriend's family, and it turns out that you can charm more than one Sargeant

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first thing I've ever written for Logan and I'm excited and nervous to see how it goes! Nothing against other careers, but I'm a sucker for the stereotypical smart job and paired up with the friends to lovers trope, I made this! I hope it's good for my first piece for him! Also, I'm aware that Leo hasn't been in the paddock for what I can assume obvious safety reasons, but I thought of this and didn't want to leave it behind 🫣

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions a previous injury

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Is this your list, babe?", Logan said as he opened the document on his iPad after you sent it to him, reading a checklist of all the things you needed to pack last minute after he said he wanted to help you.

"Yes - actually, can you help me with it, please?", you asked as you packed your usual medication, "I already have my meds in the little bag and my chargers too - you can check those off".

"Okay, done", he offered as he crossed them with the pen, "next, we have documents - passport, I'm the one with the tickets and they're in my phone as well, and Travel insurance? Since when do you do Travel insurance?", Logan wondered as you packed the documents into your bag.

"Since I'm going to motherland of paid healthcare - I don't usually get sick, but you never know! Just to my luck I could feel some pain and before I know it, I'll be knee deep into debt that no amount of working could help with! I'm just about keeping university fees covered, I can't have anymore on me", you offered as you looked at the camera. Even though the timezone was different, Logan still FaceTimed you, tucked in his bed while he saw the sunshine through the window behind you

"If it comes to that, which I hope it won't because I like you all in one piece, I would cover i-", Logan added as you shook your head.

"Let's all hope that I go and come back with pristine health and that this was just me being my forewarned self", you smiled and crossed your fingers, "what's next?", you wondered as you walked around your bedroom, looking for anything that could stand out.

You met Logan, out of all places, in the pool you had been swimming in your whole life. You never wanted to compete - for you, swimming was a way to forget about the day for a couple of hours and to ensure you were active. A couple of years ago, this boy walked inside, leaving his flip-flops on the side next to yours and he seemed to be doing some conditioning work.

Later, you found out he had picked up a muscle injury and he was there with his physiotherapist at the same time you went everyday, and by the time his treatment was over, you became good friends and it bloomed from there.

A party before his first season in Formula One was the last straw when he wasn't the only guy there who noticed how beautiful you looked. It seemed that all of the single drivers had their eyes on you, both from the novelty of your presence in the function and from the confidence you exuded. His protective side came forward, and as he was driving you back home, he didn't let you leave his place until he confessed his feelings. As it turned out, you felt the same.

"And last, but not least, lip balm", your boyfriend said in a overly exaggerated accent.

"And for that, you don't get to use this anymore!", you put the small tube on the small bag, zipping it and finding a place for it before you stuck your tongue out at him.

"That's alright - I'll just kiss you after you put it on", he smirked.

"Like that is any different from what you do now", you grumbled, closing your backpack and patting it, "I'm all ready!", you smiled.

Even though the original plan was for Logan to fly to England and then fly with you to his home country, your university practical assignments had been changed to that week and there was no way you could swap, let alone miss them. You didn't want your boyfriend to spend less time with his family because of you, so you ended up deciding that you would fly over on your own and meet him there as soon as you could.

"I miss you, I can't wait to kiss your beautiful face", he smiled.

"I miss you too, but soon enough handsome!", you said as you looked at your watch, "the train leaves later today, but I heard there was a lot of traffic so I think I'm going now", you muttered, not wanting to end the call yet but having to do it for practical reasons. Besides, Logan needed to sleep and you were sure if you didn't end the call, he would pull an all nighter.

"Don't be late, gorgeous girl - I'll dream about meeting you when you get here", Logan charmed.

"See you later, Logie! Have a good sleep!", you beamed, "don't forget to put your phone on silent because I'll text you the flight updates! I love you!".

"I will! I love you too - have a safe flight!", he smiled before his face disappeared on your screen.

Making sure everything that needed to be off was turned off and on its right place, you closed and locked the door behind you before starting your journey.

Once you had done the security checks at the airport and found your gate, the nerves on your tummy settled in. It wasn't the first time you had to fly on your own and you knew well enough where they stemmed from. You had briefly met Logan's parents a couple of times before since they travelled for some of the races, but spending time with them in their family home carried a different weight to it.

Luckily, there weren't many setbacks and the flight actually landed a couple of minutes before schedule, making you text Logan that you had already landed so he could sort the situation out.

Spotting him wasn't too hard once you saw your name on a lavender coloured cardboard and your boyfriend holding it.

"I missed you loads", he whispered on your ear, kissing under it and hugging you tight.

"I missed you too", you answered back, letting him squeeze you one last time before grabbing the cardboard, "You did this for me?", you beamed.

"Yes, one of my cousins was over yesterday and she gave me the idea to put the glitter on there", he nodded to the glittery letters.

"Yes, I definitely noticed that wasn't you", you giggled, pushing your suitcase along and to the parking lot.

"Mom wanted to come and get you, but she put in her head that the house had to be spotless, so she stayed back, and I think my dad went out to get an order my mum made for a bread she remembered you liked and she wanted you to have it", he stated, unlocking the car and popping the trunk open.

"They're going what? I don't need any special treatment, Logan, - I don't want them to think I want princess treatment!", you argued, holding onto your things, "my Goodness, your parents think I'm a snob", you groaned.

"No, they don't! They just wanted to make sure you feel comfortable and at home!", Logan offered, trying to get your backpack.

"I could sleep on the floor and be happy about it!", you grumbled before you let him get the bag.

"If you really want that, that's fine, but my bed is quite good to be fair", he smirked before you swatted his chest, helping him with the suitcase next.

"Stop making jokes, I don't want your family to think-", Logan interrupted by placing his lips on yours.

"Stop talking nonsense, my parents are excited to have you here", he spoke.

It wasn't a lie. All of his family was excited and curious to finally meet the girl that captured Logan's heart. He knew they could be a handful, and he had certainly warned you considered you came from a small family giving that your parents were only children - it wasn't so much that he thought you wouldn't feel okay, but it would definitely be a little more crowded that you were used to.

On the other side, his family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous of what they could say. Not because of you and the person you were - he was sure you were going to be just fine, but it wouldn't be the first time that his family's opinion swayed someone the other way. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and everyone else that wanted to tag along and nitpick at you. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

"I'm choosing to believe you", you smiled, getting inside the car and watching Logan do the same.

"Did you have a good flight?", he asked as he reversed out of the space, "a lady behind me was saying that her daughter had a turbulent flight".

"It was fine, but I don't really know - I slept on the last couple of hours. Didn't think I had it in me", you tsked, "but the seat was quite comfy and there wasn't anyone in the middle seat, so me and the guy that was on the row sort of took over it and had a silent agreement to share it".

The drive to his parents' house was quick, Logan pointing to all of the spots that carried memories and special moments.

"That's my mom and my dad is also arriving behind us", he looked at his rear view mirror to check if his father had space to park.

"Hello! Welcome welcome, Y/N!", Daniel smiled and greeted you with a hug as soon as you stepped out of the car.

"Hi! Thank you for taking me in for these couple of days", you giggled.

"Nonsense! We're glad you could join us after all - did you do well in your examinations?".

"Dad!", Logan warned slightly, not wanting you to feel ambushed about it.

"They went well, yes! There's only one mark left and it should come out one of these days", you smiled, walking up to greet Logan's mother at the door.

"Hey sweetie! How have you been?", Madelyn asked, pulling you in for a tight hug.

"Hello! I've been good, and you? I hope it wasn't too much trouble having me here", you told her.

"Oh, no, don't worry! You're Logan's girlfriend, you could never be too much trouble", she offered, letting you in, "How was your flight?".

"It was good", you added, "there wasn't too much trouble with customs either, but it was quite tiring for me, I've never done such a long flight", you chuckled.

"When we got back to Silverstone, I had to take three days to recover from it! And I felt so dirty that I had to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had just arrived and while it maybe wasn't the way to go, it was something you wanted to do.

"Of course, of course! Logan will help you - I left the towels on your bed", she patted her son's back before he headed up the stairs as you trailed behind after excusing yourself.

You headed straight for the shower after getting your toiletry bag from the suitcase, kissing Logan's lips quickly before. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, Logan was doing his hair in the mirror.

"Don't you look handsome?", you whispered, kissing his cheek, "I must say, I'm a big fan of this longer hair", you mused.

"Thank you, love", he smiled, "are you feeling good enough to go out or do you want to stay at home?", he asked.

"I'm good - that shower really helped", you offered, "let me just get ready and then we can go - are your parents joining us?", you wondered.

"I'll have to ask, but I'm assuming they are - they made reservations for us for lunch too", he let you know.

"Okay, I'll just change quickly and sort my hair out", you kissed his cheek before looking for an outfit on your suitcase.

As soon as you were ready, you headed back downstairs so you could leave the house, Logan's mother insisting that you rode in the passenger seat next to your boyfriend, "it's not everyday we get to be driven around town", she snickered.

They pointed out at different houses of family members you would soon meet along with some friends and spots like their workplaces and favourite shops.

After lunch, Logan drove to his uncle's house, telling you about the little girl who inspired the welcoming cardboard he picked you up from the airport with, "she loves animals too, so be prepared to be ambushed with questions and a show of her stuffed toys", your boyfriend chuckled.

"It's true, Y/N! She has built her own collection and it's quite impressive!", Madelyn added.

The house was similar to Logan's parents', your boyfriend parking the car safely before you got out.

"Welcome Y/N!", an older woman said, "we've been waiting to meet you!", she smiled.

"That's my aunt, my uncle and that's my great aunt - she's my grandmother's sister", Logan said before you greeted them warmly, hearing quick footsteps on the corridor, "and that should be Millie".

A little girl no older than three years old ran up to Logan, hugging his legs and hiding behind them, "why don't you say hello to Y/N, honey?", her mother encouraged her.

Slowly, she peeled herself from the driver's legs, taking a look at you.

You crouched down so you would be in the same level, "hi Millie", you tried.

"How do you know my name?", she asked.

"Logan told me all about you - I loved the glitter you used for my name of the sign he took to get me from the plane", you smiled.

"I have more, do you want to see them, Y/N?", she beamed, stretching out her arm for you to take her hand.

"Go go, Y/N! I'll get some snacks out for us and then you can come down if you want something - we want to have a chat to get to know the girl our nephew's speaks so fondly of!", Logan's uncle winked before Millie pulled you.

Her room was decorated in a jungle theme, animal decals decorating the walls, "do you want to draw with me? Momma got me these with glue so it doesn't get messy", she explained before pulling a chair for herself, "Oh, I don't have one for you, I'm sorry".

"That's alright, love - I'll just sit on the floor", you smiled, kneeling down and getting comfortable.

Millie was an only child and from what Logan told you, there weren't many girls in the family, so she was taking full advantage of having some girly time with you.

"Millie! Poor Y/N has been here for nearly two hours!", Madelyn called for you from the door.

"It hasn't been that long, has it?", you wondered, feeling guilty to have spent that long away from them, "I didn't even notice!".

"Don't worry, honey! It's all good, we were just wondering if you two wanted to eat something", she procured.

"We'll go in a bit, auntie Madelyn! Y/N's nails are not dry yet!", Millie stated, "and I need to ask her a couple more questions about giraffes - did you know they're Y/N's favourite animal? She knows a lot about them!".

"Okay, then! Your momma has some sandwiches for you and little cakes for when you want to come down and join us - no pressure, Y/N, but she might keep you here forever now that she knows you like animals too", your boyfriend's mother squeezed your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?", Logan asked as he watched his mother get back to the living room on her own.

"Millie is holding Y/N hostage, but I think they'll be down here soon!", Madelyn offered, "I think she's in love with her".

"Looks like you've got some competition, man", Daniel told his son.

"She looked to be having a good time - she's such a sweet girl", his aunt said.

"She helps babysitting some kids, and there are not a lot of little ones in her family, and I'm sure Millie has picked her brain about her studies", Logan offered, "she's studying to be a vet".

"She's very lovely", Madelyn said spontaneously, "You would be a fool if you let her slip through your fingers. She's smart, caring, loving - I can tell from the way you look at her", she offered.

She had always been honest with him and she was known for not leaving words unsaid, but to do so in such a spontaneous and open way was surprising to Logan.

"And Millie loves her, and you know how much she hates new people - she has her seal of approval", she smiled before everyone heard giggles approaching.

"We were so entertained and having so much fun that I didn't even notice the time passing by", you apoligised as you sat down next to Logan on the sofa, Millie sitting by the coffee table and munching on the snacks.

"You have some glitter here, babe", Logan pointed out, shaking some of the yellow flakes from your eyebrow.

"I'm a bright star, of course I have it", you joked, giving him a big smile before Millie pulled on your pants' leg.

"Y/N, these are my favourite - momma and I baked them!", she offered you a small biscuit, "these bits here that look like giraffe spots are cinnamon!", the little girl smiled.

"Thank you, Millie", you accepted, taking a bit out of them and humming, "they're very very good!".

"Logan, did Y/N also teach you how to tell apart the different giraffe species?", Millie asked her cousin, choosing to sit on his thighs.

"I think she has, yes - the star shaped ones are the giraffa giraffa, right? And there's the one with 'camel' in the name because of a hump on the neck", Logan offered.

"That's right, Logan!", the little girl cheered as she drank some of the juice her mother offered in her cup.

Conversation flowed between you, his family members asking you questions about you so they could get to know you without delving into matters that you deemed too personal, which you were grateful for, and overall it was just a nice chat.

"Logan used to go around with this cap he had signed by some of the drivers - you must have been what? 10 maybe? I still remember the fight I had with him because he wanted to shower with it", his aunt laughed after clapping her hands once, "he was so adamant that the ink wouldn't budge that I had to show him that it would vanish and then he let me take it away from him".

You were loving all the childhood stories, holding Logan's hand and laughing with them, kissing his cheek once the rest of the group got up to help his aunt in the kitchen once they suggested that you stay over for dinner.

"I was a dorky kid, what can I say?", your boyfriend smiled as blush erupted on his cheeks.

"Shut up, your stories are the cutest!", you giggled, "way better than my 'I wanted to prove I was as tall as my older cousins so I fell in the pool' and 'I cut my own hair because my mum was busy with work and I thought I was helping her' stories", you argued.

"Depends on how you look at them, really", he smiled, stealing a kiss from your lips before Millie came back.

"Y/N, are you staying here with auntie Madelyn and uncle Daniel after Logan leaves?", she asked.

"Do you want me to leave, Millie?", Logan asked, feigning offense with his hand on his chest.

"No, silly - but I know you travel for work, so maybe Y/N could stay here!", she explained.

"I can't, Millie, I have school back home", you offered, noticing her shoulders fall.

"I like having you here, I like you", she muttered.

"I like you too a lot, Millie - how about we play as much as we can while I'm here, hm? You can pick my brain about anything you want, not just giraffes! Do you like tigers? Or cows?", you suggested, diverting the attention to something else.

"Tigers and cows? That's a weird combination", Logan quirked an eyebrow, "my practical exam was about cows and I was studying tigers before I left", you shrugged your shoulders.

.

"You guys can stay here whilst I do the debrief", Logan guided you inside the hospitality, letting you know where everything was in case you needed it.

You, Daniel and Madelyn engaged in conversation, hearing a couple of more stories from Logan's childhood and a few of your own stories from back home.

"It's my mum, sorry, if you'll excuse me", you said before heading outside since the signal was better there.

Once you finished your call to update your parents on how things were going there and here, you felt fabric run over your sandals, looking down to see a small dachshund puppy.

"Hey there, little one", you bent down to pet him, "you look like you're lost, hm? Who do you belong to?", you mused, rubbing his belly once he flopped down.

Behind you, you could hear Alex's and Logan's voice approaching and then you spotted Lily too.

"Hey, Y/N!", she waved, "Since when do you and Logan have a puppy? It's so cute!", she beamed.

"Hi! We don't, I just found him, or he found me I guess", you mumbled.

"This looks like Charles' dog, doesn't he?", she mused again.

"Have you two seen a small dachshund- Oh! Tell Charles he's here!", Logan said as he spotted the dog on your lap while Alex began calling the monégasque driver.

"He's here, Charles!", your boyfriend called once he spotted the Ferrari driver, "Animals just find their way to her, I guess", he joked as he watched you play with the dachshund puppy.

"Look at your puppy teeth - do you know what this one is called? I know, Leo! I go to university so I can treat little ones like you, but also the big ones! Have you met big dogs too?", you mused, all too happy with the puppy who seemed to be happy at the attention he was getting.

Charles approached you as you got up, carrying the puppy and giving him to him, "Oh no, Leo - did you run away from your parents?", you asked the dog, "now, that's not something nice to do, is it? They were probably worried about you, little guy!", you said before letting him go back to Charles.

"Thank you! He seems to have liked you", he pointed out, holding Leo in his arms.

"He just came in here and started playing with my shoelaces", you smiled.

"Leo does that a lot - last week, he found my sandals and he was a puppy on a mission running away from me with them!", Alexandra chuckled.

By the time the sprint race was happening, you sat in the garage and watched the whole race, waiting to see about the penalties they were handing out, seeing Logan ended up with P10.

"That was a good run, though, wasn't it?", you asked your boyfriend once he was able to be with you, "some learning curves for tomorrow at least".

"The balance was a bit off, but we'll look into it", he stated, kissing your forehead before also greeting his parents.

"I'm going to the bathroom", you excused yourself.

After discussing the sprint, his parents took the opportunity that you weren't there to talk to Logan about you.

"She loves you a lot, I can tell - I just hope we haven't been too much for her, this whole things is too much as it is", she gestured to the whole paddock and figuratively to the life her son led.

"The whole media attention definitely isn't her favourite thing, but she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. She's very private and her friends and family also help a lot with arranging stuff and being careful with those sorts of things", Logan offered.

"She's an incredible young woman, and you two are great together", Daniel complemented his wife's opinion.

All doubts of whether it had been right or not to bring you home for a few days washed away as Logan heard his parents talk about you like you were one of their own, welcoming you into their family so seamlessly and listing and pointing out all of the things that attracted Logan to you in the first place. You fit right in with his family and Logan couldn't be prouder of that.

[simplyreveries]

when theyre pining; vice dorm leaders!

trey clover

trey always had an eye on you ever since he met you, as the "magicless person from another world" he was pretty intrigued by you. he only grew closer to you from there. with his personality i feel like its easy to take his intentions more as a friend more than someone who's interested in you. and trey tries his best to get his feelings across that hes fallen quite literally hopeless for you. (will die if you ever hit him with the "oh youre like such a friend/brother to me!")

ace gets so offended when you get all the extras of his treats or that you're the first one to get some of his baked goods. he’ll complain that saying that “that's no fair- you're trey’s favorite!” and trey laughs but doesn’t deny it.

he tries to be as helpful and caring towards you, he does feel some remorse for your situation and all too. if you need help with anything pleaasee go to him because he loves being someone you can rely on.

ok so, trey can flirt... if hes not thinking about it. like if he puts himself into this mindset of "I'm totally going to woo you with these words" he is a fool. we all saw his painful attempts during the ghost marriage event. I'll never forget that he compared the brides' eyes to grapes.... needless to say, he totally messes up around you like that all the time. cater once happened to witness one of these instances and went through the five stages of grief.

ruggie bucchi

ruggie plays off any feelings he has towards you like he's not taking it seriously. he gives off pretty confusing signals during the beginning when he started to develop feelings for you. perhaps its just because of how overwhelmed he feels and doesn't know how to physically handle it. he cannot get you out of his brain no matter how much he tries.

he finds it hard to trust. when someone does something for him he always assumes it's because they're going to want something in return. so when you just help him sometimes when you catch him doing some random tasks for leona and try to help him hes... confused. and truthfully doesn't accept your help for a while, he'll brush it off. but he still remembers that.

judging by your situation and practically being thrown into this world without any of your own belongings, you're in a tight spot with money. sometimes when he does shifts at the mostro lounge and sees you there he starts to try sparking conversations with you. though it's probably him attempting to discreetly make fun of some customer that was being rude to you. ruggie feels all giddy and excited when he makes you laugh.

he gets all playful around you, you know he's around when you hear his mischievous laugh. sometimes he uses "laugh with me" to move you closer to him he'd say "i didnt know you were so excited to see me...!" and laugh. you can only roll your eyes.

jade leech

jade is... interesting when it comes to having feelings. because its pretty intense once you've caught his attention. he's also just so strange when it comes to showing that. as much as he desperately does want to call you his and all, he enjoys the stage where you're unaware of how he feels. he thinks it's like a game to win you over or something and he likes a little challenge.

jades love language is telling you that he saw a nice-looking mushroom during one of his hikes and it reminded him of you. okay seriously though, he'll love to share to you all about his little terrariums, he's quite proud of himself.

he loves it whenever you come by the mostro lounge, trust me he'll be there ready to serve you the moment you're there. he playfully tells you that you're his favorite customer. so, you get extra good meals done specially by jade, he'll ask you what you thought of it. one time he messed with you by telling you he used a random plant he found and wanted to know if it was edible... and was like "hehe...i kid, dont worry".. he thought your reaction was quite amusing.

not going to lie this guy literally just spawns like you could be in the library chatting with grim and turn around and he's there??? he smiles and is like "ah (name) how pleasant to see you here." :))) HUH??

jamil viper

jamil was in complete denial with his feelings for you, he hated himself almost because he feels like he is making the biggest mistake falling in love with someone from a completely different world. he has never felt so intensely about someone until you arrived. to push his feelings away for a while and just yearned for you from a distance.

nevertheless, you being you always try to talk and get closer to him, and he can't resist his feelings growing so much with each conversation (even if it's mostly one sided from your behalf). whenever he sees you at one of kalims parties and celebrations he almost freezes and can only stare at you... until kalim follows his line of vision and gets an excited grin, starting to laugh and its over for jamil. that guy is going to make so many painfully obvious attempts at getting the two of you together.

he gets pretty quiet around you, if you didn't know him well it may seem like he didn't like you but trust me that is absolutely not the case here. since he listens and remembers a lot of what you say, he tries to use that as an opportunity to attempt talking more to you. it's cute to see him try, even if its mundane things like cooking. but if you bring up hobbies, he enjoys like basketball club and dancing he'll become more talkative.

whenever you do small things like acknowledge him?? compliment him?? hes smitten and hates it so much. usually, these things don't really matter to him when he hears it from others but when it comes from you? its very important. you sound so genuine too about it. or even go out of your way to help him with anything since he has a lot on his plate as vice dorm leader.

rook hunt

once he's got his eye on you it's over because you're going to be constantly seeing him everywhere...! he is so incredibly infatuated with you and won't hesitate to tell you that. you've captivated him in every way- he finds your beauty to be irresistible, that he finds it a no-brainer that he's deeply harboring feelings for someone such as yourself.

rook is literally so weird when it comes to you im sorry. but its ROOK. he notices everything about you "is this a new perfume? ah its so lovely!! beauté!!" right after you just awkwardly said "good morning" to him when he was staring at you blissfully.

speaking of staring... wowie he cannot take his eyes off of you. he'll sigh dreamily like RIGHT next to you with his head in his hands thinking how truly captivating you are. and whenever you decide to talk to him, he literally listens to every word you say- but hey, at least no conversation with him is dry or boring with him because this man can talk forever about anything. he'll even tell you more about himself.

he tends to put you on this pedestal. literally, you can do nothing wrong in his eyes. rook will write you poems upon poems, gifting your beautiful things and tells you that they remind him of you, and he just simply had to give them to you.

lilia vanrouge

done here!

[panickedpenguin]

Soulmates share a single symptom of emotion. For some, like Dustin Henderson, it's smiling uncontrollably whenever he can feel his soulmate laugh. For others, like Nancy Wheeler, it's balling your fists in tight tension when her soulmate yells in anger.

For Steve Harrington, it's having his eyes burn with unshed tears when he can feel his soulmate crying. When he was younger, he could hardly control the feeling and would openly sob right alongside his soulmate, however far away they were. With age he was able to reel it in, feel it less forcefully, breathe through it. Still, no matter what, his eyes would burn and often get red rimmed with strain. His soulmate was a bit of a crybaby.

He knew Nancy rarely ever cried. She was tough and smart and sought no one's approval but her own. Steve knew Nancy wasn't his soulmate, but he hoped. By God he hoped. But no, his soulmate cried. They cried almost every Christmas and always every Thanksgiving. They cried on March 29th and September 17th. Even now, having cried throughout Steve's whole life, his soulmate would cry randomly in the middle of the day or a Saturday night, cry first thing in the morning or late late, waking Steve from his sleep.

It used to annoy Steve, thinking that his soulmate must still be a baby if they're crying this much at the age of twelve, fourteen, sixteen, like fucking grow up! But when the crying wouldn't stop, when the regularity of it wouldn't slow down, Steve thought something must be wrong. Maybe his soulmate has chronic pain or suffers migraines. Maybe they're being forced to watch the world's saddest movies all the time by his evil step-mom. And then, maybe they live in a world with monsters from another dimension that attack them in the night.

Steve had told Tommy once, how he can feel his soulmates sorrow. Sorrow like drowning in grief and loss. How he feels like crying with his soulmate all the time. Tommy had nodded along, sympathizing. To lighten the mood, he joked that there must be people who pop boners when their soulmate is horny. How maybe they jizz their pants when their soulmate cums. Steve laughed and laughed and didn't bring it up again. Sometimes he'll feel the burning need to cry and think of boners instead.

When he meets Billy Hargrove, he believes that that man has never shed a tear in his life. Steve swears that Billy is a hotheaded asshole with a heart of solid ice. If he even has a heart at all. When Steve is exposed to his competitive streak and mean sense of humor, he thinks that Billy's heart might just be splintered open with the right icepick. When he sees Billy laying across the hood of his camaro, pointing out the constellations and telling stories about them over one too many beers, Steve thinks that maybe his heart isn't ice at all. Just encased in steel. Like a lockbox. And someone's got the key.

He wonders if someone has the key to his heart, too, or if they've lost it in the river of tears they've shed. He wonders if he could show them the key, if they could unlock Steve's heart together and never cry alone again. Because Steve thinks, when he cries, it's because he's alone in his feelings. Lonely and rattling for affection. Maybe that's why his soulmate cries, too.

There was one time Steve felt the burning need to cry all night long and then watched Billy Hargrove sit out of basketball practice for a week. Another time, Steve was at a party where he found himself in Eddie Munson's company in the front driveway, smoking a joint. The weed was making them sleepy and honest and Steve started crying over the death of his beloved Spaniel when he was eight years old, his best friend and housemate while his parents were away. Then Billy Hargrove came storming out of the house and slamming into his car, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. And then there was another Septemeber 17th where Steve hadn't felt the need to cry until he was on his way home from a night shift at Family Video. He knew the date and knew his eyes would be burning for a while more so he refrained from going home to face his parents and instead drove out to the junkyard. He thought he might find something cool but instead he found Billy Hargrove, bashing in the hood of a car with a tire iron and sobbing. He wiped snot across his sleeve and glared hard at Steve for approaching, yelling and taunting. But Steve felt like crying too and he knew something about bashing faces in, so he picked up a brick and threw it through the car's passenger seat window to get Billy to shut up. They both cried and destroyed a few cars together. When they were good and done they sat down on a green washing machine and shared Billy's cigarettes.

Billy said, "My mom died nine years ago today." He sounded so hollow and worn out that Steve only hummed his acknowledgement. Then Steve said, "My soulmate is lonely today." Billy heaves a huge sigh and then they sit there for a long time after.

They don't realize they're soulmates for another few months, at Joyce's Christmas party where Steve kisses Billy on the cheek soft and careful under the mistletoe. Billy sneaks out the back door to silently sob into the forest. Steve soon follows him out to make sure he's okay, only to watch Billy's body shake and barely exhale a breath while Steve's eyes burn and burn.

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, ���but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

[starmosaics]

Mars in the 8th house pt. 1/3

I'm splitting this into parts because there's a lot to cover with this placement.

A person with an 8th house Mars doesn't just share anything with anybody, they'll test you and make sure that you can be trusted before sharing anything about themselves other than surface-leveled things. From the outside, an 8H Mars person seems distant, kept, shut off, and mysterious; they're an enigma. Many people feel intimidated just by being in the 8H Mars person's presence. People want to desperately figure this person out or pinpoint something about them, but just simply can't. The reason 8H Mars people are so guarded is because they most likely have faced life-altering pain or traumatic experiences at some point in their lives, commonly due to death or betrayal by other people. They can be incredibly hesitant or totally reluctant with trusting and opening up to others. They tend to keep people at arms length and might have paranoid thoughts about getting close to people because of their trust issues and reluctance to let down their guard. They are incredibly hypervigilant people and it takes a long time for them to express their vulnerabilities.

These people are naturally investigative and are great at researching and absorbing information. They're like sponges when it comes to obtaining details that reveals the truth. They love digging things up beyond the surface, revealing the truth, and bringing things to light. They want to understand things on a much deeper, intellectual level to reveal secrets and to solve cryptic and hidden messages. They either are great sources themselves or provide great sources for others and will always show up with the cold hard facts. I worked with a girl who had an 8H Mars and she did so much research on employee's rights to dig up what illegal things our management was getting away with. She obsessed over it for months and was fixated on "exposing" the institution we worked for. I am also friends with a guy who does scientific research at his school as a job who has an 8H Mars. I have an 8H Mars and am deeply invested in astrology.

These people are wonderful friends, family members and partners, and will always be the first responder when someone they care about is in a dire situation. They're also the best person to be with when in a dangerous or life-threatening situation. These are the types of people to remain calm and collected to ensure that whatever is at hand is taken care of. During an emergency, they're the ones to brainstorm and come up with a plan to execute; they're incredible strategists. This is most likely due to having dealt with a lot of dangerous or traumatic events in their lives which caused them to be able to respond to other people's situations with a much more steadfast approach.

Most of the 8H Mars people I've met had a weird relationship with their sexuality in their teenage/young adult years and lost their virginity at a later age compared to their peers. People may objectify 8H Mars folks or perceive them to be more sexual than they are (ex. being told that the 8H Mars person looks like they have a lot of experience with sex even if they don't) because these people commonly ooze sex appeal. Something about them makes people feel incredibly drawn and magnetized to them. I knew someone with an 8H Mars who was a stripper and did sex work. She also had a sugar daddy which I would associate to be an 8H topic (shared/gained resources from another, Mars covering sex). I too have considered doing sex work for quite a while now. 8H mars people may like more rougher and primal sex such as BDSM. The bedroom is where the more darker parts of themselves are revealed. They may also enjoy exploring different kinds of kinks rather than having plain or vanilla sex. Despite people thinking 8H Mars folks are sexually progressive all the way, these people actually need to have an emotional/spiritual connection to those they engage sexually with, otherwise they will feel like something is missing during sex and that the void they're seeking to be filled cannot be reached. Unfortunately, I have also known many 8H Mars people who have faced a form of sexual victimization.

In the next 2 parts, we'll cover certain transformations these people may undergo in their lives, mental health and psychology, life and death situations, struggles within intimate relationships, and "taboo" topics these people might enjoy. If you have an 8H Mars let me know if this resonates :))

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

[soapoet]

describing your next love...

...because i'm just as nosy as you are.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Lucky people by Waterparks

they have a very sunny energy. the kind that peaks out behind the clouds after a fall of rain. rejuvenating, always welcome. they try their best to stay optimistic, for loved ones and strangers alike. it feels a little tragic because there is a darkness inside them that they choose to ignore. their sunny disposition seems less like a mask and more like armour. it's what has gotten them this far. they may have had a rough childhood, and their heart may have been wounded particularly by one of their parents. they struggle with mental health and might be neurodivergent. they're the kind of person to end a depressing sentence with 'lmao', or turn a therapy session into a stand-up comedy show. they cope with their struggles through humour, because if they take themselves and their problems too seriously and lean in too close to where it hurts, the pain becomes overwhelming. their heart is much like a dam, holding back tons of tears of almost biblical proportions. even still, if they opened the floodgates they'd find a way to muster a 'noah, get the arc' joke to force some sunlight through the clouds.

despite their dance around their own feelings, they're encouraging of others expressing theirs, and stand firmly by their side and always have a shoulder to offer if needed. they love to make people laugh, and aren't afraid of making a fool out of themselves if it puts a smile on someone's face. they'll gladly cast themselves as a jester if it makes their loved ones feel like royalty. they're very excitable and fun to be around. at their best they are a firecracker, bursting with an energy so infectious and bright. they're creative and very passionate about their hobbies, often to the point of obsession. it seems like all they do they do with such love. like a show is never just a show, but a whole world of its own to explore and come to know as home. they love the escapism of foreign lands, fictional and real, and something about them makes a simple trip to the grocery store an adventure with many memories to one day share.

you either already know them, or will meet them very soon. especially if you're in a transitional period, moving away, changing jobs or applying to schools, then this is a person you'll meet in this next chapter of your life. this has friends to lovers written all over it. you might be in the same friend group, or meet them through a mutual friend. their hair stands out for some reason. it could either be in the literal sense because it's messy, perpetual bedhead, or they have a unique colour or cut. perhaps they change their hair frequently and have a bit of chameleon vibes in which they become unrecognisable with every change that they make to their appearance. they're average in height but could look taller than they actually are. their posture isn't the greatest, especially if they're an artist of some kind. they have golden retriever energy and may be a dog person in general. for some, they have freckles or dimples, or prominent birth marks. there's a lot of mutual pining involved before anything happens. they're a little bit oblivious, too. someone else might have to step in to spell things out for either of you.

02.

Shufflemancy: Into you by Ariana Grande

being playful and flirtatious can get you in quite a bit of trouble, and they know this from experience. they're attractive, and seem very aware of it, though there is less legitimate arrogance and more playful cockiness involved. they like to make an effort to look good, and have a strong appreciation for a partner who does the same. generosity may be a way they show this appreciation because they understand the time and maintenance this effort can take, and are of the mindset that they ought to reward what they like rather than simply expect it or take it for granted. they're likely involved in business such as investments or trade, or could be working on building a business of their own. they're physically fit, and might frequent the gym or be into sports. they have a lot of stamina because of this, so do with that information what you will.

they could have a bit of a reputation due to an unscrupulous past, and it is one they have done much work to rewrite. they want to settle down, but haven't found someone they could commit to. a big issue for them is the way fun gets sucked out of things too quickly in the relationships they've been in. they're very spontaneous and have a big capacity for romance, but they often find themselves lacking space and time to do anything special. like how you would decide to clean the house to surprise your mother, only to have her call and ask you to do just that, ruining the gesture. similarly, in their relationships they may find themselves cornered, and in the suffocation of their freedom and passion their capacity and desire to impress and to woo begins to fade like a smothered flame, which in turn causes strife. and the nagging that so often followed turns them into a complacent shell of themselves, wherein it's better to nod along than risk discord. they seek an equal. somebody powerful in their own right, who can support them and be supported in return. they want love to be an adventurous undertaking of a power couple ready to seize the day.

this feels like a right person wrong time -scenario. when you meet they're probably in a relationship with someone else, or you are. you could meet at some sort of social gathering or organised event like a fundraiser or a concert. there's a distinct sense of delay here, though the interest is mutual and very persistent right from the beginning. they could hold themselves back from pursuing anything with you at first because they want a clean slate. it may at first to you seem like frustrating indecision and make you question their intentions, even integrity, but they may just be untangling their life and closing chapters. they yearn for the long-term and would like the house and the kids and whole nine yards, but need to make sure their life is upright, straightened, and ready for it. there is a playful glint in their eyes, which may be hazel or brown. there is a distinct warmth to them and a loving gaze feels especially adoring from them. they would make a very good and attentive parent and spouse for the right person. there could be a noticeable size difference between you. if you're softer and curvier, they're more angular and dense, and if you're shorter, they're taller, etc.

03.

Shufflemancy: Great shipwreck of life by IAMX

oh, how charming! they're gregarious, and attract quite a few admirers. though it seems they take few, if any, seriously at all. their popularity may be a byproduct of an important or visible position that they hold. they could be a prominent figure within their community or be very successful in their field of work or hobbies. their schedule is often packed with meetings, events and social obligations. they could travel a lot too, both for pleasure and for work. for their work they may spend extended periods of time away from home. in spite of their sociable persona, they keep their private life very private, under lock and key, and may even be secretive about it to an extent. they may be unapproachable or simply be unattainable by people outside of their established circles. there is an element of social games or hierarchical factors present in their life, and whilst they're good at networking, climbing ranks, or beating records, they may actually find many around them to be uninteresting or outright obnoxious. where they spend their professional hours draws a lot of similar types of people together, and their tastes differ quite a bit. being married to their work in a way leaves few options for them in love since they look for something outside of their norm, which they have little time to explore.

there could be a fear of being taken advantage of. like they can't seem to trust people easily, and expect everyone to have ulterior motives. to use them or get something from them. these trust issues run deep, and either they have been burnt before or have watched somebody close to them fall from grace and are afraid they'll share that same fate. there could also be legal reasons for their caution, as they may have signed contracts or taken an oath that dictates what they can and cannot share, particularly if they work for the government or a big corporation.

this connection might begin online or otherwise have distance involved even if you meet in person first. lots of messages or calls. they revel in good banter and enjoy entertaining more out-there ideas. they feel starved off of deeper conversations because their life seems to revolve around a lot of simple niceties and professional talk with tons of things redacted, edited, and filtered to fit into a very narrow box deemed correct and good and appropriate. it's very tiring and wears them out, even though they won't show it. they really appreciate things that differ from the norm or breaks the status quo in some way. what they consider their type is also very different from what would be expected of them, and their peers would be shocked to hear what they find ideal both in terms of a partner and a life that they would like to lead. their voice seems important too. they have a very attractive voice, could be a great speaker or an artist. their hair is either longer or shorter than average (shorter for women, longer for men), and their physique leans slimmer and angular, not a lot of curvature just lots of straight lines and sharpness.

04.

Shufflemancy: Willow by Taylor Swift

they probably don't get out much. most if their life occurs behind closed doors. they could work or study remotely, and their schedule might be different from the usual nine to five. their friends and family may live at a distance, too, which leaves them few reasons to leave the house. they need mental stimulation and might be a little high-strung, their nerves like violin strings wound too tight. independence is of great importance to them and their boundaries are clear, almost like austere walls protecting a castle. they appear aloof and don't say much, especially around strangers. though their shyness is often overruled by their intrigue. they like to tinker with things and minds alike, and may often step in to play devil's advocate just to stir the pot. especially in their boredom they may seek out discourse as a form of entertainment. they have strong opinions, but are not stubborn or unable to bend. in fact, something they abhor is weak convictions and mindless agreement. they respect admittance of ignorance far more than the parroting of popular opinions if there is a lack of substance behind them. they really do not seem to mind different views at all, and may surround themselves with people of all walks of life and various temperaments and opinions. this is in part driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge. it's as though they've made their quest in life to seek information and learn everything they can in one short lifetime. they are open-minded and curious, and have great respect for anyone who has something to teach them. and they're a great teacher themself! even if they do not literally teach as a part of their work, they might have been told by many that they should consider it because they really have a way of adapting information, hand-tailoring it to their audience, so that even complex things get delivered and comprehended.

where they may be a great source of knowledge and advice to those around them, they aren't the greatest in terms of emotional support. they are a problem solver, and they can't fix tears. they try, but it feels clumsy and awkward. though that can be a little charming, too. they care a lot, more than people might expect. they're just terrible at showing it through big and extravagant gestures and displays of affection. they're more likely to give praise or take on tasks to unburden you. they like routine and solitude and seek someone who rivals the comfort of their peace and quiet. they could die happy if they could simply share a space comfortably with someone without constant noise, buzz, and attention. they could be strangely private about things that don't necessarily call for privacy. like, they might easily drop childhood lore in a casual conversation, but find inquiries about what they did yesterday suspicious even if they didn't do anything special.

because this is a bit of a 'rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair' -type of situation where they're very comfortable in their ivory tower that gets no visitors, it might take a while before you meet them. they're far more social online and you could meet through common interests like online games, subreddits, discord, or through mutual friends. if you already know them, there may be a sense of unrequited love for a while. they rarely act on their infatuations and just wait it out, enjoying the feelings for what they are but do little, if anything, about them. alternatively they participate in very indirect chasing that appears more like making the other person chase them. they have attractive hands, could be ambidextrous or they fidget a lot with their hands. they may be a writer, play an instrument or play a lot of video games. they always appear deep in thought or even a little irritable, even if they're actually not. not so much RBF as simply spacing out. their eyes seem hazy. whichever colour they are it looks desaturated and blurry, like there's mist covering them. blues lean greyish, greens look muddy, browns look more true and lack the amber warmth. they might wear glasses or contacts. regardless of race they're a little paler and may have some health concerns or struggles.

05.

Shufflemancy: I want you to want me by Chase Holfelder

there is something broken here. their home, their heart, or perhaps their mind. it'll be difficult to break through this shell because the exterior is harsh and uninviting. whatever it is that haunts them, it really shows in their relationships. they walk a path seemingly unlit and full of horrors, leaving behind them a trail of broken hearts. pieces of both their own and those of past lovers scattered along the way. to some their love is suffocating, draining and overbearing. when they get attached they latch on with a powerful grip that seems unyielding. they're a rock that could weather the strongest of storms and they're used to being a pillar of strength. but it seems as though their past is full of people who would have needed the room to bend with the winds and were left feeling too restricted. they may have a jealous streak that's rooted in fear of betrayal, likely from past hurts. they could struggle with a mental illness or have history of abusing drugs or alcohol to numb what haunts them.

they really want a partner in crime. someone who is similar to them and understands their turmoil. they have a big capacity to understand and deal with heavy burdens and mental issues in a partner too and aren't easily fazed by emotional outbursts or any type of spiraling mentally or emotionally. they also remind me of the quote 'a hero will sacrifice the person they love to save the world, a villain will sacrifice the world to save the person they love'. they seem a bit like an outcast or a misfit, and those closest to them may also be underdogs and form a very tight-knit group. they're a little bit of a hopeless romantic and have a soft side. if they're musically inclined they might write you a song, or otherwise use writing as a way to express their feelings in a deeper way. their cold and rough exterior is there to ward off the most frail and flaky. they don't want to ruin dainty petals or have their own ripped out by players.

funnily enough they actually look like one themselves. they have that quintessential heartbreaker look to them. the one all the movies deem nothing but trouble. a villain in the story of many but their own and those closest to them. there is a feminine energy close to them that they're very protective of, like a sister or mother. for some they might be providing and caring for a sick relative. they have an unusual job or field of study, and peculiar working hours. they might work a graveyard shift, gigs, or do work that's seasonal or done on the go. music plays a big role in their life and you could meet them at a concert or through another kind of relation to a band or artist you both enjoy. they take a keen interest in the strange, and the mysteries of life. they might study the occult, enjoy conspiracy theories, true crime, etc. they're distinctly cool toned, blondes are dirty and ashy, browns are void of red pigment and lean darker, almost black. blue eyes are very cold and piercing, and brown eyes are very dark and may appear black. they have piercings, tattoos or scars and may bruise easily, or be into those things in others.

06.

Shufflemancy: Trust by Boy Epic

somebody send this person on a mandatory holiday. i really should not have left this one for last, because the energy is really heavy. their life seems unbalanced, like it is all work and no play. there is a jittery energy here as though they are running on fumes and caffeine to fuel a big machine with hundreds of intricately moving parts. they might work in real estate, management, law, IT, or have a lot of people they're in charge of who depend on them. they have impeccable memory and somehow manage to stay on top of things with ease. they like being personally involved and may be hands-on with many of their projects. task management comes naturally to them. it's as if they're playing a game of chess with life and stay aware of every possible variable and reach outcomes long before they show in the present. this spills into all areas of their life and allows them to map out goals with great precision, leaving very little room for uncertainty. they're very stable and competent. but they're also miserable. even though they enjoy their work for its challenges and the heights it allows them to reach, it may seem to them as though they are wearing themselves out without real purpose beyond the accolades. like they're building an empire in vain because there is nobody to share their glory. they want more from life, namely a home. their home is as big as it is hollow and they don't like it there. it lacks a lot of love and light and they wish to bring some of that into it through children and a spouse.

they may come from a big family themselves, even one of good fortune. their discipline and work ethic is likely something instilled in them by a father figure, and there could be a bit of an eldest child complex at play, wherein they have always felt the need to set an example for their younger siblings, but also feel embittered by what they cannot get away with that others so easily can. they could use with a bit of whimsical and carefree energy in their life. they're aware of it too, as they find a bit of chaos oddly attractive in a partner. in previous relationships they may have been with people far too similar to them, allowing them no place of restoration and solace, but instead a constant movement of the goal post. they seek someone comfortable and more easy-going who can help them relax and live a little. they are generous and would spoil a worthy partner rotten, but are also afraid of gold diggers and don't want to be taken advantage of, as they may have run the risk of in the past.

out of all groups, this one leans the oldest. depending on your age they could easily be 5-10 years your senior, and if you're very young it will likely take some time before you meet them. you might meet through work, through coworkers, at a work related event, or if it is a leisurely occasion it's one with a mixture of age groups like a family gathering of sorts. for a few, you could run into them a few times at random whilst running errands and going about your daily routines. either way interest is established quickly, even though they may seem stand-offish or even stiff at first. in actuality they busy themselves with observing, and throughout your interactions, and your interactions with other people in their presence, they size you up and try to figure you out. they could be very taken with you, but they try their best to not show it. they're cordial, but keep their cards hidden. once they decide to pursue you everything happens very quickly. again, because of their game of chess having played out various scenarios while they figured out their feelings and rearranged their life to fit you into it. they're eager to please, and one-on-one you may be surprised by their sensitive and softer side. they're doting and have a lot of adoration once they fall, and out in public where they seem level-headed and collected you can easily distract them and have them stumbling a bit. they're very protective and are bigger or stronger than you. their features lean darker and they may have an earthy look to them, like green or hazel eyes and auburn hair. this one has the strongest indications of marriage.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full headcanons for when MC regains all of their missing memories please 🙏🏽🙏🏽

The Arcana HCs: When MC regains their memories

Julian

It's one thing to discover, with someone who also didn't remember at the time, that he had essentially forgotten about you when you needed his help most. It's another to remember it

The early stages you spent still working with him, still sending him communications, still hoping he'd stop to connect long enough to notice your condition and do his job as a doctor and your friend

You don't know which hurts worse, that, or the later stages you spent weak and dying and alone, hoping against hope that he'd notice you were gone and come to help you through the last of it

The way his face falls in regret and pain when you finally tell him what those days were like is a closure you didn't know you needed

As much as it hurts both of you to address, the fact that Julian feels like you can forgive him while knowing the full extent of what he's done gives him an even stronger faith in your relationship

He's also excellently suited to helping you unpack it all - he's been through the same thing himself, having missing memories change how he lives, and then getting them all back at once. He gets it

So excited to learn all about your past self from you

Asra

If this ultimately makes you a happier, healthier person, they are both delighted for you and hugely relieved that it happened

One of his many fears after bringing you back was that he wouldn't be able to give you a life worth having. Your lack of memories definitely contributed to that, and seeing you recover is wonderful

Of course it's not all sunshine and rainbows. As soon as you've reached a point where you can talk about it, they're asking you for your forgiveness all over again and for your side of the story

He left you where he knew it was dangerous, and he failed to stay with you because he chose his fear over his love. He didn't even leave you a way to call for him when you needed him

At the same time, it's their unfailing presence with you now that helps you overcome the disjointedness of it all. They've grown and matured, but your current and old memories alike feature them

So when you're ready to reminisce, to start talking about your old antics and embarrassing mistakes and weird habits, the same best friend who saw it all then will remember it with you now

Only now, there's no walls, fears, or secrets left between you

Nadia

Your memories are back? Tell her everything

Seriously, everything. It's been so fulfilling for her to have someone to trust and allow into her heart and mind and space, and she's often regretted that you can't do the same to that capacity

She does struggle early on not to feel guilty when you mention things like Vesuvia's failing economy or the ravages of the Red Plague, but she's quick to keep the focus on you

Soaks up all the little details and anecdotes you share with her

You remember your childhood favorite food? She's having it served at tea, to see if it tastes the way you remember it

You mentioned a song you remember a parent or family member singing? She's boosting the local music scene with a big prize for whoever can find and learn to play/sing it to you

Really, really wants to visit all the places you have your core memories in. Taking you to Prakra gave her a closure and bond with you that she really wants you to enjoy as well

It goes without saying, but she has an open invitation to anyone you want to reconnect with to visit or stay at the Palace

Muriel

He's happy ... for you. He knows how deeply formative memories and history are, and it's only right for you to have your roots back

He's also the closest to terrified and insecure he's been in a long time, and that's because if you remember a time before the end of the Plague, you remember the time when he was the Scourge

He doesn't care for secrets. He's never hidden who he was from you. He knows you saw his old self and that it hasn't changed how you love him. But it's different when it's your memories, not his

What if you visited the Coliseum without him knowing?

What if you took a seat and experienced the disappointment and revulsion of seeing your best friend's oldest friend, maybe even someone you were fairly close with as well, turn into a killer?

But if you could look at his memories and still commit to loving him, he can and will do the exact same for you

Gives you space when you need it and sticks by your side when you need it, always ready to lend an ear when you want to share

Happy to go on a trip with you if it'll let you reconnect with lost family and roots. You did the same for him, after all!

Portia

Oh she's not worried at all. She knows you two have got this

Whatever there is in your history that she may have an issue with, she knows you two can talk about it and she knows who you are now is not who you used to be. No serious concerns there

That aside, you can finally live with (roughly) the same amounts of memories she has! This is great! You should write them down!

Not the best at giving you space if you want to process alone, but so empathetic with the whole adjustment that it's almost impossible to feel misunderstood. She's got your back

Even with the tricky relational stuff. Her older brother and Asra, especially. She knows you knew them when things were bad, and she's ready to mediate any hard conversations you need to have

And she'll give you all the emotional support you need after

Almost scarily dedicated to helping you track down and reconnect with people from your past. (Given how she spent three years hunting down her brother, it's not hugely surprising ...)

So confident and settled in your relationship that it makes sorting through the memories easier. You're still each other's fresh start

Lucio

He's happy for you! He really is! He promises! (all said with both hands in the air, a strained smile, and a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face while the dogs look unimpressed)

Okay so maybe he's a little scared

He knows you've talked about it. Hell, you walked with him through the landscape of his memories and failings and somehow managed to hold love for him as he went

But if you can actually remember, now, what he did ... who he used to be ... what you suffered because of him both directly and indirectly, and yes, the horrific death you can remember now too

He knows he's changed and his faith in you is boundless but his faith in who he used to be is nonexistent, for good reason

Almost makes you lose your temper pestering you for how you really feel and tripping over his feet to prove himself after

Once you've told him that nothing about your relationship is under threat, he becomes an amazing partner to help you unpack

He gets it. What it's like to relive visceral memories, for the past to feel so disjointed. He gets it, and he's got you

[thunder-point]

Phumpeem au

hello have we all considered any kind of phumpeem soulmates au because, of course, i think the "once i become of age, everything i scribble on my skin appears on my soulmate's body as well" trope fits them so well.

just imagine: they become of age the same year, but phum is first. and for those months that separates them, peem is helplessly hit with little messages that make him want to rip his hair out, blow after blow. because the first time his soulmate writes to him, it's on his palm. letters small, unsure and so wobbly peem can barely make out the words. but he does. he does and he can't breathe for a few minutes after.

it reads "find me whenever you want, but please just like me. like me like me like me" his soulmate doesn't write often. but when they do, it's not 'hello', it's not 'i guess you're still not of age yet because you're not responding', it's not 'what's your name' or 'tell me things about yourself'

it's just every heart-wrecking piece of vocabulary ever created.

it's 'it hurts. i hope i'm the only one hurting so often. please take care of yourself'

it's 'i hope someone told you you're loved today. you deserve it. you deserve it even when i feel like i don't. even if we share this same soul.'

it's 'i'm sorry for hurting you. i feel like i'm hurting you sometimes. i just want to talk to you but i don't know how.'

it's 'are you reading me? can you see me? sometimes i feel like not many people can see me on this earth.'

it's 'i hope you like hugs. i hope you'll hug me until i can't breathe. please. please.'

and mostly it's just 'please like me. please don't find me lacking. not you.'

his soulmate writes them at the darkest of hours, and they're always wobbly, always without steady contour. and peem has understood from the first ever message that the ache in his gut is not his. not really. it's his soulmate's. it's the half that seems to tremble every time they seeks peem so ruthlessly.

when he becomes of age. he doesn't know what to do. his soulmate hasn't said a thing in two weeks. no more shattering messages that are whispered on peem's skin like a plead. peem can't find words to answer to everything ever revealed to him. to a pain he can't understand but can feel.

so he draws. he only draws. the first ever doodle he paints on his skin is a chibi version of himself hugging a shaded figure tightly to his chest. right in the center of his palm, where his soulmate chose to begin everything.

hours later, when he looks down at his palm, he stars quivering from within. because the paint is smeared. but it's not because of sweat. it has droplets peppered all over, as if someone cried over it freely. not peem's tears.

right under it, the same wobbly writing appears 'you are so talented. I'm sorry for ruining it. please don't stop.'

peem's tears join right after. q finds him sobbing into his elbow in a corner of their art classroom.

he never stops. he never fucking stops. he draws everyday. every morning, even if he's late for his first year of university, he opens his paints and doodles the most trivial of things on his palm, always in the middle of his palm. he mostly doodles himself, because he wants his soulmate to know him more and more. he doodles himself drinking coffee, because he loves coffee. he draws himself painting. draws himself bickering with q's chibi version, the bubbly letters 'this is my annoying best friend, you'll like him. he's the most caring person I've ever met.' right above it. he doodles peem's friend's sleeping on top of each other on his bed, and writes 'i hope you'll join the pile one day.'

he doodles the cats he sees on the streets 'i like them. what animals do you like?' he doodles characters from his favorite shows and books and bands. his soulmate answers them all hesitantly, after hours. like he doesn't know if he should, if he can.

but he never stops saying 'pretty.', 'talented.' never stops scribbling little, trembling 'thank yous' around peem's drawings.

most of all, peem just draws himself hugging the vague figure of his soulmate. because he likes hugs, he adores hugs and he'll give his soulmate hugs in every shape and form.

then one day, peem draws an annoyed version of his chibi's face, along with the words 'i met the most annoying person today.'

he didn't think much of phum at first. phum is annoying and cocky and nothing like his soulmate's meek writing, the ache that follows it. he and his deal get on peem's nerves. but also he seems like he can't escape phum. he can't stop seeing layers and layers of the guy. can't stop his initial annoyance from dissolving, watering down.

one time, he scoffs, mostly as a joke, as a taunt. 'i bet your other half is as much a handful as you are.'

but phum didn't rise to the bait, like he always does. his whole face mellowed, instead, voice the shiest it's ever been as he curls his palm to his chest and whispers, 'my soulmate is the most gentle soul I've ever met, even if he's my half.'

and peem is. he's shattered. mouth dry and shocked and strangely shattered. because what do you mean even if he's my half, what do you mean phum's so besotted it drips off his face like liquid paint.

weeks pass, time goes by and peem finds himself hurting for more reasons than one. because he's starting to yearn differently than before. because he feels no longer halved, but pulled in three different directions. he still draws for his soulmate daily, still feels warmth right in the middle of his chest when he receives his soulmate's words, no long so full of desolation, but mostly reactions to peem's doodles.

but there's a heat that engulfs him whenever phum is around. consuming and maddening and most of all, confusing. peem should not feel like this for someone who doesn't have the right to leave ink on his skin. he shouldn't. he should stop his heart from beating so desperately. he shouldn't because the first words his soulmate ever said were 'please like me like me like me' and peem can't go and break that unspoken promise of liking his other half until they both fade away.

yet his feelings are growing and glaring, and he finds himself grasping at delusions that do him no good.

peem finds himself trying to sneak looks at phum's palms, just for a glance, for an ounce of hope that perhaps the yearning is not so unfounded. that phum's moments of undiluted softness, so unexpected but somewhat familiar, are a sign from fate for peem to look, search, discover.

it's ridiculously hard to look at this man's palms, and that shouldn't give him such expectations but it does. because phum wears oversized stuff like he has something to hide beneath his sleeves. he keeps his hands curled nearly all the time, like he's protecting something.

[to be continued]

YEA WELL. I'm writing this one for ao3 so I'll stop here because it's already a very long post of me rambling. Many questions to be answered. Does Phum know before Peem does? For how long? How does Peem find out? Hmm.

[morrieandlicky]

Sweet Moments Between Maurice and Alec That You Have Not Seen Before (From E.M. Forster's 1st Draft for Maurice)

Context: Forster's first version of Maurice, finished in 1914, has a rather different ending than the final published version (no hotel scene, and no boathouse reunion). See here.

Forster's first draft for Maurice is, in my opinion, the rawest in terms of boldly displaying the love shared between Maurice and Alec. This version shows much more of Alec's emotion and tenderness, as well as of Maurice's sentiments and affection towards Alec. It is definitely not as subtle as the final version, with quite a few straightforward declarations of love.

Hence, I'm disappointed that Forster did not manage to integrate at least some of these 1914 texts into the final version: it would've made the love between Maurice and Alec much more pronounced and convincing, as well as made Alec a character with more depth and feelings.

Having read Forster's first draft for Maurice, I share below some of these moments between Maurice and Alec that are not in the final version (ordered on how lovely I think each moment is. Bolded texts are the highlights).

1. After running into Mr. Ducie in the museum and Maurice bursting out to Alec.

M: "I'd possibly have blown out my own brains."

A: "Why?" he asked, stopping dead.

M: "I should have known by that time that I loved you."

A: "You can't, sir, you couldn't."

M: "I love you, sir be damned."

A: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel."

M: "I don't want to hear that."

A: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?"

M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled." (Maurice is referring to the moment when Alec ran in the rain across the rose bushes at Penge just to see Maurice's face.)

2. The conversation after Maurice refuses to stay the night with Alec—a scenario that only happens in the first draft in 1914. Be prepared for tears.

A: "Come just for a little to me."

M: "If I came it would be for ever."

A: "Ever's the best."

M: "Why, man, you sail Thursday."

Alec found no answer.

...: here's when Maurice explains in a long paragraph why they can't be together because of their class difference and the fact that they're both men. But in this long paragraph Maurice pretty much brings up wanting to marry Alec—"We can't have the particular thing we want (which is roughly speaking marriage) unless we sacrifice something else"

M: I thought from that letter of yours you might want me to come. But, Alec, come where to?"

A: "I'd know if you weren't a gentleman," Alec said. "We'd a' found work together as mates."

M: "Yes, and if you were a gentleman, I'd take you this minute to my home.

A: "I'd a' been what young Clive was to you, then."

M: "He's a saint and we aren't. Leave out him."

A: "I'd a' been yours till death, then." ("I would've been yours till death, then")

M: "Out there if you get a chance to marry, take it. That's what I wish.

A: "Maurice, what'll you do without me, dear? Have you no other friends?"

Maurice dared not look forward to his own future. He rushed on the parting.

M: "And if there's ever a child, I shan't ever have that, so remember me."

A: "I'll remember you, child or none. God bless you. O God bless you, and be with you if I can't."

3. Right after Maurice puts his hand on Alec's back in the museum

"Yes, awfully serious," remarked Maurice, and rested his hand on Alec's shoulder, so that the fingers touched the back of the neck, doing this merely because he knew that he loved Alec, that he loved him not as a second Dickie Barry, but deeply, tenderly, for his own sake, beneath weakness and vulgarity.

4. In the museum, Alec in pain and acting cute

[Alec] had bitten his lip, his eyes were red too; face and body were cramped with pain.

M: "Alec -"

A: "Alec am I?"

M: "I'm sorry I used that other name of yours."

A: "Don't speak to me," he growled, "let me go, you calling me Alec when I"

M: "Did you give me away then on purpose?"

A: "You're correct.

M: "Was it to get money - or only to do me harm?"

A: "I couldn't say."

M: "Come, let's get away where we can finish our talk."

A: "What? What do you say?"

M: "Come along, Alec."

A: "Do you call me that still?"

M: "Come away, man, don't break down for God's sake...." He took hold of [Alec's] arm. The touch was not reminiscent; it hinted at a relation to come.

A: "Oh but you must, I want it." Alec yielded.

5. Maurice at night thinking about Alec's letter

He tried to forget the treacherous letter, but it stole back to his mind, and he suffered most during moments in bed, when it masqueraded as a real love letter, and offered him the completeness that Clive enjoyed with Anne.

(This is brilliant writing because we, as readers, know that Alec's letter is a love letter, yet Maurice's "muddles" prevent him from seeing it as a love letter, and it is only at night, when he's craving Alec's presence, that he's able to allow himself to see the truth and succumb to his feelings for Alec.

Here, again, is also a suggestion of Maurice wanting to marry Alec, like how Clive married Anne)

6. One version of Maurice's and Alec's first night together

A: "Good evening - sir, said the low voice. Was you wanting something? Couldn't you sleep?" It was the gamekeeper.

On your rounds? gasped Maurice, trying to sound natural, and felt corduroys. Their touch disconcerted him. Whither was he tending from Clive into what companionship?

A: "Just wait till I've set down my gun - eh aren't you trembling?"

M: "So are you - ah don't."

A: "Don't you like that?"

M: "I don't know."

A: "Christ you're fussy. Don't you like me to touch you."

M: "That's you lad."

A: "Yes."

Side notes: hopefully these will shut all the detractors (of the relationship between Maurice and Alec) up—namely Clive apologists, Clive+Maurice shippers, and all of those dark academia classist out there.