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jermer10 · 8 months

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TF2 relationship hcs + miss pauling

suggestive, gn reader | silly romantic hcs

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout:

- the most emotionally immature out of all the mercs, also the most inexperienced with dating so he can get pretty jealous over stupid things - a demo flirts with you? dead. a medic pockets you for too long? whoops didn’t see that enemy sorry medic. god forbid another scout even breathes in your direction - ironically he used you to make Pauling jealous and eventually realised he actually likes YOU (fake dating trope my beloved) - non-stop rambles about you to his ma, when she meets you she’s already calling you her child in law - dates with scout usually consist of going to baseball games or getting lunch together, he’s pretty simple and won’t plan anything too extravagant unless it’s an occasion (with spy’s help ofc) - not huge on pda, will hold your waist or sling an arm around your shoulders on occasion, in privacy however he is HUGE on physical affection he loves you sm <333 - stroking your hair and running his fingers along your back, kisses on your neck, throwing in a couple of cheesy pickup lines here and there - pretty much only refers to you with pet names, “doll, babe, toots, handsome, etc” he’ll only use your name when he’s emotional or during intimacy

Soldier: - the most dense man on god’s green american earth so unless you’re similar to zhanna, chances are he won’t even bat an eye at you. you need to be batshit and violent for this man to notice you first - wakes you up at 5am sharp every morning for “training” (forcing you to workout with him whilst he yells at you….lovingly?) expect to be buff as hell after a couple months because his routines are intense - “DROP AND GIVE ME 20 CUPCAKE” “GOOD JOB SOLDIER. HERE IS A KISS FOR YOUR HARD WORK” “PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN SWEETHEART” - his kisses are really rough, he lifts you up into the air and spins you around or dips you and it’s genuinely super sweet, he enjoys picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as well :3c - he has no jealous bone in his body, only random accusatory statements towards anyone who shows kindness towards you and it deters them enough for soldier to never have to worry - dates with soldier usually consist of working out or going to war museums, will never plan fancy dates so that’s all up to you - does not care about public or private affection, he will makeout with you anytime, anywhere and is unapologetic about it, much to everyone else’s dismay - “EUGH! GET A ROOM YOU TWO!” “AFFIRMATIVE, WE WILL MOVE TO THE LIVING ROOM”

Pyro: - i hc pyro as being aroace so a romantic-platonic relationship between you guys would be more mushy and cute than anything else - going out on ice-cream dates and buying matching colouring books and seeing how differently you each colour the same scene - cheek kisses no matter where you are is a must!!! holding hands around the base, tapping on each-other when bored and to show affection <3333 - the other mercs have no fucking idea what your relationship is but none of them care as long as you’re keeping pyro in check - you’re the first and only merc to see pyro without their mask on, one of the most tender moments shared between you and something that they treasure - pyro doesn’t get jealous, but they will harm anyone who makes you uncomfortable, no questions asked - cuddle buddies!!!! you guys can be seen lying around the base in a sleepy huddle, i can see demo joining and medic or engie tripping over y’all 😭 - they are super attentive of your needs and compromise despite having trouble feeling romantic or sexual attraction, as long as you enjoy it, they enjoy it

Demoman: - more of a flirt than scout is, and that’s saying something. demo will chat you up at any time of the day, whether it be in the privacy of your bedroom or straight up on the battlefield - has died MULTIPLE times because he just cant keep his eye off you, he makes mental notes of how attractive you look while bashing an enemy spy’s brain in and uses it later (WINK) - a solid 80% of your relationship is shared in silly drunk moments and the other 20 is rooted in insecurity. demo being jealous? likely. demo being scared of you leaving him for someone with two eyes and their head on straight? definitely - there are nights where he feels completely sober just holding you in his arms and acknowledging that you’re here and you love him, warts and all - SUPER BIG ON PDA!!! he wants the entire world to know that you’re his, also super big on cheesy nicknames “beauty, my love, handsome boy/beautiful girl/gorgeous partner” - messy kisses, lazy cuddles, dragging his fingers along your body feeling every dip and curve <3333 even if the affection seems half assed, his heart is devoted to you - offhandedly mentions you to his mum after dating for a year or so, to which her response is to slap him upside the head for not telling her sooner and then asking about grandbabies - you’re demo’s rock, if you asked him to go sober for you he probably would. he adores everything you do, words are unnecessary just look at his face

Heavy: - the stern and silent type, he generally doesn’t show public affection towards you unless it’s to protect you or to calm you down - in private he is the most gentle merc, holding you close to him and stroking your hair, playing with your fingers and mentally squealing at how cute and small they are compared to his, rubbing your back with his palm - he is a man of few words, but it’s pretty obvious that he is completely enamoured by you just from the way he touches you and how his gaze softens when he sees you - would plan the most personal dates, things that he KNOWS you would enjoy doing or seeing just so that he can see you smile up at him - “Любимая (darling), Дорогая (dear), Любовь моя (my love)” are the most common pet-names you’ll hear him calling you, he’s a more traditional guy - heavy is not a flirty man, he’s too blunt and would rather say what he means in the most direct way possible. thaaaat doesn’t mean he discourages you from flirting with him however - his family is extremely weary of you to begin with, heavy doesn’t talk about you much and so they’re going to be on guard (despite the fact that he could crush you with one hand if you did have malicious intent) - after a while though they warm up to you and consider you apart of the family- baking with you, teaching you how to hunt bears, making bearskin clothing, cooking the bear meat, talking about marriage and children, ANYTHING they can do to include you

Engineer: - it’s tough dating engie - he’s either working or passed out from the exhaustion of working, so you never really get quality time with him - he still takes every chance he can get to show you a good time, whether it’s cooking dinner with you or writing songs for you, he is much more romantic than he leads on - “darl, darlin, sweetheart, honeybee” sweet and simple names that roll off the tongue - the merc most inclined to shower with you. not even in a sexual way, he just enjoys the calm heat of the water and how intimate it is to share such a space - creates devices to make your life easier; need a new weapon? no need to buy a faulty mann co one, he can build you anything you want. need your very own kitchenette so you the other mercs can’t keep stealing your food? he was already drawing up the plans a week ago - the type of guy to bring you breakfast in bed every morning, putting on some slow romantic music and peppering your face with kisses to wake you up - always keeping tabs on you in battle, making sure that you’re safe and unharmed (despite knowing that you can respawn he still hates seeing you hurt) - the least jealous man to exsist, he is completely secure in himself and knows that if you didn’t wanna be with him, you simply wouldn’t

Medic: - another workaholic over here, it’s a mission getting him away from the operating table, or his desk right next to it - quiet, soft moments are few and far between, but when you do get them they are spent in each other’s arms lazying around the base - medic isn’t the romantic type and would likely just take you out to a traditional dinner or would want to teach you how to perform certain medical procedures on dates - don’t get him wrong! he loves you entirely, he just doesn’t see the need in being overly romantic with you, his way of showing love is letting archimedes anywhere near you or letting you lie on the operating table while he finishes up his paperwork - his pet names for you include “schatz (treasure), maus (mouse), meine taube (my dove)” - will pocket you 1000% and the other mercs HATE it - they have to strategise a way to keep you separated from eachother during battle - it wouldn’t matter if you were invincible or on the verge of death, this man would protect you to the ends of the earth. that being said he is also a massive shithead, will tickle you randomly or poke fun at you when you’re in a bad mood. its sweet. usually - in that middle ground of jealous but also chill af, he will only really become jelly if you’re flirting with someone else, but if they’re flirting with you he does not care unless you’re uncomfortable

Sniper: - simultaneously the most chill and anxiety ridden person on earth, the way he can go from 1 - 100 in five seconds should be studied - it takes him a VERY long time to actually warm up to you, let alone DATE you, so be wary that you’re in it for the long haul if you want this man - the first 6 months of dating are torturous for the both of you, he is far too nervous to touch you and instead of telling you this he will literally just ignore you, but once you start being physical he is one of the most touchy mercs - you will have to be the initiator in most situations until he becomes more comfortable with affection, this man has spent most of his adult life in a van isolated from society so its no kidding that he would be awkward with you (even though he adores you) - “love, babe, darling, honey” generic nicknames, if he’s feeling more comfortable he’ll use “sweetheart” or “roo” if you’re getting on his nerves - he doesn’t do dates. like sorry to burst your bubble but he would consider eating dinner together in his van or even just having a bath together a date - extremely jealous but will never admit it and it is VERY obvious. this could be said for most of his feelings though and reassurance is all he really needs - will spy on you using the scope on his gun during battles, killing enemies who might try to sneak up on you <3

Spy: - spy is by far the MOST romantic merc out of the bunch, will take you out on date nights every week, intimacy regularly, affectionate both in private and public, etc he is the dream - in saying that he is also a player, he needs a partner who can keep him feeling fresh, and someone who is just as cunning as he is - will intentionally try to make you jealous in order to get a gauge on the kind of person you are. he is entirely mind games babe and will play it off as if he doesn’t care about other people trying to flirt with you (he wants to kill them with his bare hands) - he is either going to be obsessed with you or mildly attached, there is no in between and it will be strikingly obvious which it is - often refers to you as “mon amour (my love), beau/belle (handsome/beautiful), mon bébé (my baby)” - most likely enemies to lovers, if you’re good at your job he sees you as competition, if you’re not he sees you as a nuisance, either way you’re initially a problem to him - but then he starts to wonder: why can’t he stop thinking about your skin? and the way you say his name? and the way you bashed that sniper’s brains out? he is smitten without even realising it - occasionally cloaks and follows you around to keep you safe from enemies, but mostly sticks to trying to win the match

Miss Pauling: - if you thought engie or medic were bad you have NO idea with pauling, she quite literally has one day off a YEAR - and you bet your ass she is spending it in bed all day cuddling with you - doesn’t use pet names, she’ll either call you by your last name, or some nickname variation of your first name. she called you “babe” once and cringed so hard she couldn’t even look at you - as much as she doesn’t want to put you in any danger, she LOVES bringing you along for missions. she gets to finish earlier and spend time with you, its a win-win situation - coming home from work and eating dinner with you is the highlight of her day, she could be completely exhausted and yet you bring life back into her with just a smile - yes you had to “fight” scout for her and there was absolutely no competition, he didn’t even know you two were together until she rolled her eyes and kissed you in front of him (he was surprisingly supportive) - she’s far too busy to be jealous, if someone was flirting with you she wouldn’t even notice until it escalated and the person was on the floor with you standing over them triumphantly - she dreams about being able to go on museum dates with you one day, but for now bubble baths, dinners, and morning kisses are all you both get <\3

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #miss pauling #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #jermer10

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hinamie · 15 days

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hiii hina <333 ok so now i must know, what are some of your favourite character designs? like, the elements are so compelling and go so well together to form a design that is cohesive and visually appealing. and is there a particular piece of media that just has consistently banging character designs?

OOH OKKOKOK listen. i am no expert i have not been classically trained in fact i have not taken a single char design course but to me, good character design boils down to 2 main elements: a. recognizability and b. visual storytelling and the concept of show, don’t tell. recognizability is where more technical elements like shape language and silhouette come into play. u want an audience to be able to instantly know a character with minimal confusion, and that is made much easier if u have good working knowledge of shapes, colours, and proportions. That’s what /makes/ a good design, but what /SELLS/ that design is the underlying meaning. WHy do characters look the way they do. what can you learn from the way they look. there is undoubtedly a time and a place for designs that are just cute to be cute but if u want to make a lasting impression beyond “oh this character is hot/cute/attractive” u gotta dig deeper.

i am going to yap now smile

i wld b remiss and a liar and a fraud if i did not talk about arcane in regards to character design. fr me arcane is THE media that does not miss with a single one of their designs. this show is fucking stunning points at every character . every single one of them . hand in marriage. u learn SO much about everyone and their roles/personalities/fighting styles just by looking at them not to mention they’re all fucking 10s this show is a bisexual’s nightmARE anyway personal favourites vi and jinx but ths just me being predictable

vi /looks/ like a fighter the minute u see her. her build her gait everything about her screams this woman will snap me like a twig (pLpslslplpslpslpspl). u see tht she’s rough and brash but one thing i rly find interesting is her hair colour. like fr one its brightness distinguishes her as a main character, but also pink being typically associated with femininity/love/nurture/compassion is SO interesting paired with vi. not only is it kind of subversive bc vi is not traditionally “feminine”, but she does embody all of those traits in that her reason for fighting comes from a place of wanting to nurture and protect. i could talk for hours about vi anyway. hand in marriage,,./.?? hand in marriage pls/?????????

jinx i LOVE I LOVE I LOVE . she’s wiry she’s chaotic she’s asymmetrical and that MEANS something it /shows/ her mental state n the way she fluctuates between her identities of jinx and powder. I love the hints of pink/purple not only as visual nods to vi but also as alluding to shimmer and the dangerous undercurrent it gives her. not 2 mention her design works so well alongside her sister like. besides the obvious pink/blue juxtaposition everything about them from their body types their colour schemes the way they carry themselves the way they dress… it’s peak . nothing tops arcane in character design for me

a few other noteworthy mentions:

illumi hxh - listen idk what the fuck he’s wearing but it’s a 90s shounen i’ll forgive him. illumi’s design is brilliant imo. he’s not in your face like hisoka who u see and know immediately that this guy is insane, he’s beautiful but sleek in a way that makes him almost reptilian. it’s a subtle kind of off-putting and u want to recoil when u see him but it’s just understated enough that u don’t know Why until it’s too late. the wide, catlike dead eyes the jet black hair… his design lends SO well to what he represents for killua, he’s this ever-present shadow he’s an oppressive force we see phantoms of illumi’s eyes Boring into killua we see his hair forming a sort of cage god the visuals the visuals im so . im unwell about the zoldyks actually.

kaneki tg - this one is a bit tricky bc at first glance kaneki /is/ just ur standard dark hair protag but!! the way his design and specifically his hair r used as a visual representation of his mental state and character arc is so good i lovelovelove the progression and storytelling u see through his design alone.

- early kaneki w his shorter plain black hair makes him look innocent and unassuming bc he /is/. he was no one special, what happened to him was just pure bad luck. - ghoul kaneki w white hair showing the mental break after he’s tortured, stripped of his innocence/sanity/humanity - HAISE MY LOVE the two-toned hair showcasing how he has literally become a blank slate after his amnesia and the events of tg and the resulting limbo between identities ((also idk if it’s just tht ishida’s style had changed by :re but haise’s hair in particular is so FLUFFY it makes him look very non-threatening which might be a coincedence but might also be intentional in showing how he’s taken on more of a gentle mentor role by this point)) - reaper kaneki and we r once again back to black but whereas before it made him look plain and unassuming with the new context it makes him look /lethal/. ((also directly contrasts arima's design, having a near identical silhouette with the only difference being his black to arima's white)) - endgame kaneki finally settling back on white as a way to show tht after everything he’s been through he’s come back permanently changed: he is a ghoul, he’ll never b able to go back to the way things were or reclaim his humanity, but he’s gotten to a place where he's at peace with it now tl;dr cataloguing a character’s journey and mental state through their appearance >>>>>>>

LAST THING IK IVE YAPPED SO MUCH GOMEN ,, i did want to tack on my feelings about, wouldn’t u know it, genshin fucking impact, bc i did say i think there is a place for character designs that r just pretty to be pretty and i think a lot of genshin designs r good examples of this. i’ve seen some people getting upset about genshin being lazy with character design and making their characters unnecessarily Busy, but as someone who doesn’t play and doesn’t know anything about the game let me just say tht if the goal is to get players to spend money fuckin congratulations . i too would whale for some of these designs. bc i don’t play i don’t know for sure whether or not characters' appearances have any relevance to their lore or if it’s mostly just bells and whistles purely for aesthetic, all i know is am not immune to alhaitham.

#kikuism #answered #WROTE A NOVEL GHDSGKKJS #get me talking about arcane n i cannot be held responsible for the word count

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i-love-you-all · 1 year

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For the valorant hc game could you do sova please?

Of course! Sova, my love <333

Also realizing how long these posts get so I've put the keep reading line in.

5 things they usually see:

A practice target (often those poor bots). His greatest fear is failure - a missed shot. It could determine the fate of his teammates or the world, so it cannot happen (again). As a result, he spends ungodly amounts of time training and working out. No mistake will be repeated on his watch.

Wildlife! It's already established that he enjoys photographing nature, so I imagine that he see trees, flowers and animals quite often.

Chess boards and pieces. He's a pretty avid chess players (same with Cypher so I imagine those two compete as often as Sova can stand the information broker).

Guns and other weapons. I HC him as being military/special ops then onto whatever the Brotherhood is. And before then I HC his family to be a military family so he's grown up seeing guns, learning how to use them... and using them himself.

Various shades of blue. I think it's a top 3 favourite colour of his (looking at the clothes he wears outside his armour). But I like to think that he got his walls painted blue at the protocol. And that he got some say in what he would wear out on his missions and whatnot. (because if we're being honest, if he does work up north in snow and stuff as shown in his card, he should be wearing arctic camo).

4 things they usually feel:

The cold. He grew up in a cold place and like his voiceline on icebox, he enjoys the cold as well. For the most part, he doesn't mind it, but when he's out for a long time, he does enjoy the warmth of a fire, or just a heated room.

The calluses on his hands and the weight of his bow. He's been trained since young with the bow and arrow, so his skin is not soft, and it's not perfect. However, it is who he is, so when he makes a fist or absentmindedly rubs his hands together, he feels them quite often. It's a permanent reminder of who he is.

His wet hair as he leaves the shower + all the cleaning and brushing he does for it. I think that he takes special care of his hair because it's like the one part of him that "stayed the same" throughout his life, or that it's the only thing that can't be scarred. He must have so many scars around his body (though I sometimes write him to have none bc he's that OP :p) and then he lost his eye, so the fact that his hair can still stay nice and soft must be something to treasure :))

The sore feeling you get after a workout. Whether he was injured on a mission or just after a hard day, he can feel that stiffness. Maybe there are days he wishes he was a radiant. Maybe then, all the physical strains he takes on wouldn't hurt as much. He knows the soreness will only get worse, no matter how great he is at keeping in shape. And that's when his admiration for Brimstone gets stronger because that man has been working through this for decades longer than he has.

3 things they usually hear:

His electro music. I'd like to think that maybe, the reason why he likes that genre more (from what you can hear on the playlist for him) is because the drums are softer/rounder. A loud hit on a snare might make him tense up a little too much because it can sound like a gunshot.

His breathing, and his efforts to control it. Snipers have to work to control how they breathe, so as he settles down into a sniper's position, he needs to be extra aware of his breath. Also, in worse times, he needs to calm himself down when he has a nightmare intense enough to make him jolt upright in the middle of the night. Thoughts of losing his eye again, or a mission that was failed because of his action - or lack of action, sometimes plague him, and he hates how he loses control for those few moments.

A cold wind/nature. I've already talked about him being out in the world and enjoying cold weather, but he likes to be closely attuned with all the possible and plausible sounds of nature. Not only is it a good way to calm himself down, but it's also great training. When he's alone out on a mission, he needs to know what are normal sounds and what could be an enemy trying to sneak up on him.

2 things they usually smell:

Nice, warm, tea in the morning. He would never admit it, and Cypher has no proof, but it is him that sometimes takes Cypher's teas. Especially when he doesn't have any of his own available at that moment.

Metal/nothing. Not metallic as in blood, but as in the general iron smell of a gun or his bow. It's clean and isn't really reflective of the scents in his everyday surroundings, which is what I mean by nothing. He can smell food, gas, or whiffs of perfume as he travels around cities. He can smell flowers, trees, and nature when he's outdoors. He can't smell anything in that armoury as he prepares to leave on a mission.

1 thing they usually taste:

Blood. I know it's kind of a cop out for any agent, but I think Sova more than most (maybe not deadlock or brimstone) just due to his history in this line of work. He has lived through war, assassinations, and straight fist and knife fights. He has hit others, and inadvertently tasted a bit of blood splatter, or he has been hard enough to taste some of his own blood in his mouth. I think he might be a medium steak kinda guy if he does go out because he doesn't want to be reminded of anything while enjoying a meal. Though, there are times where he's in that sort of mood and will order something medium rare and let himself taste just that little bit of blood.

#yay my fave :))#valorant #sova #valorant sova #hc game #requested #answered asks

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oceanblueeyesoul · 2 years

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hi there sarah it’s flo i’m looking forward to our bmw matchup trade <333 here’s my info.

i go by she/her pronouns. my name is florence but most people call me flo or other nicknames. i’m a fair skinned 5’3 girl with long curly gold hair that is cut in 90s layers with long side bangs. it’s typically held off my face with a ballet pink coloured ribbon. i have downturned doe eyes that are constantly switching between blue, green and grey. i always curl my lashes and wear mascara because sadly naturally i have very straight pale lashes. i have a slim, slight figure. my face only has a few freckles but i have a lot on my body. i have a small ring of freckles on my knuckle which i love!!! my cheeks are always flushed and i have a small gap betweeen my front 2 teeth.

i’m extremely physically affectionate. my friends irl will tell anyone that because i’m nearly always holding their hands or looping my arms with theirs. my love language is definitely physical touch. i’m an infp and a libra. i also get told that my personality reminds people of miss honey or cinderella. so i guess that means i’m pretty soft spoken and kind. i’m very quiet when i first meet people but once they probably know me i can ramble for ages about my hyper-fixations.i can be kinda naive but only because i always wanna see the good in people!!! i don’t really get angry or when i am angry i just end up crying.

i really love classic literature and vintage books!!! along with vintage movies (especially audrey hepburn movies, i’m literally obsessed with her) i love alternative music from the 80s. think the smiths, blondie, echo and the bunnymen. though to be fair i just adore anything from the past. but also i thrive listening to vintage love songs. i dress in a very typically feminine way with ditsy floral patterns and lace being a staple in my wardrobe. i love pressed flowers and journaling.

i cant wait to see what each of us come up with <333

Hi there, Flo! I really hope you like this a lot! And I can't wait to see your matchup for me!

Boy Meets World Matchup

Your Boy Meets World soulmate is...

SHAWN HUNTER!

He would definitely try to get you a journal book for your birthday or anniversary because he knows that you like to write your stories in your journals and he would try to buy you some pressed flowers everyday because he knows that you like pressed flowers rather than normal flowers.

The two of you would definitely be listening to music together and having fun with each other while dancing and singing along to the songs together.

He would definitely be trying to watch a Audrey Hepburn movie with you because he knows that you love Audrey Hepburn movies so much and other vintage movies as well as reading vintage books together.

#oceanblueeyesoul #matchups #boy meets world #boy meets world matchups #shawn hunter #shawn hunter x reader

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via-l0ve · 1 year

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Hii! Hope all is well with you! I'd love to do a 🎃 for supernatural or marvel of possible! <3

I'm so bad at describing myself, bear with me :)

Physical stuff out of the way. I'm pretty average high and weight, around 5'4 and 135. I do have hope dips and a ton of stretch marks. I have mid-length wavy brown hair and big brown eyes. I'm super pale, like ghostly pale lol. Oh and I wear glasses!

The basics! My favorite colour is lilac! My favorite season is autumn! I love Halloween and Christmas. There is nothing quite as good as that cosy, nostalgic feeling that comes with that time of year. I am in my early 20's. I'm bi (but maybe with a guy for this? :) ). I'm the oldest to 3 siblings. I've worked with kids my whole life. I suffer with chronic pain and anxiety and I want to be an addictions and mental health counselor to help people like me!

I am a huge reader! I love most genres but I'm a big dark romance, thriller and history nerd. I'm almost always reading a few books at a time lol. I'll do digital, hard copies or audio, the more the merrier.

I'm a huge history buff as well. I will learn a little about a plethora of different time periods and then deep dive into ones that peak my interest. Ancient Greece/Rome, the 40's and the Victorian period are a few that come to mind.

I love the look of the '70s as well. My style definitely has some influences from the era. I'm also a bit of a hippie. All peace and love and positive vibes here <3

I also love a huge range of music, classic rock to folk to pop to country. I listen to it all! I love my Zeppelin, Louis Tomlinson, Noah Kahan, Jake Wesley Rogers, guns and roses, David Bowie, Harry styles, imagine dragons and Mumford and Suns just to name a few!

My love language is physical touch and gift giving. I'm constantly wanting to remind my partner know I love them by holding their hand, cuddling, playing with their hair, etc. If we become friends in any regard, I will be feeding you. I'll bake homemade treats, suprise you with coffee and doughnuts on a bad day or make you a full dinner just cuz I missed you. It's just how I show I love you!

All my friends call me a grandma I'm constantly checking on my friends, I always have food and little candies in my purse in case you get hungry, I am a homebody, my family is extremely important to me, I'm learning to knit and I have to make sure everyone is good before me.

In a relationship I love little (or big) romantic gestures. Remembering my Starbucks order or building a fort for a horror movie night, etc. I find it very attractive when they get a bit over protective. I also am a sucker for pet names and all that lovey dovey stuff.

Sorry for any bad grammer or if it's just way too much! I have a bad habit of ranting. Thank you so so much in advance! Have the best day

Ps. I love your page! I stumbled on it not too long ago and I'm hooked! Keep up the fantastic work friend <333

OMG HI. IM SERIOUS I LOVE YOU IN A NOT CREEPY WAY YOURE SO COOL AND YOU LIKE LOUIS TOMLINSON AHAGSYSFWYEVDUGKVOFPEHATF PLEASE YOU SOUND AMAZINF AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE INFO IT MEANS SO MUCH I HOPE YOU ENJOY BABES!!!!!

OKAY SOOOOOO

i ship you with thor!!!

he would 100% sing along to all of your songs because he is a himbo and i love him. he also fucking LOVES your stretch marks and hip dips. pls let him kiss every single mark on your body he will do it with a smile. he plays with your hair all the time and he loves it. he has a christmas playlist for that time of year and he decorates with you and gets all cozy and makes you watch ELF every single year so he can laugh at the same parts. he’s always worrying about you and the pain you’re in but he always helps the best he can <333

he BEGS you to read some books to him and he gets really invested. he wants to tell you all about Asgard and in return you can tell him about all the history you know!! he LOVES you clothes and begs you to pick some out for him as well. he’s the type to want to match outfits. he screams Hardy Styles and Louis Tomlinson any chance he gets.

i fucking love that you’re the grandma friend i NEED one of those in my life that’s so cute.

thor loves it too. teach him how to bake please. he needs the help before he burns your house down hahah.

thor notices EVERY detail about you. your drink order, the way you like your hair, the way you focus, what movies you cry at, what your comfort movies are, a phrase you say a lot, etc. he’s very perceptive. he makes cute date nights like picnics and pillow forts so you guys can watch shrek (my perfect date ngl.) or a preferred movie.

he’s such a golden retriever bf and i think you need that bc you’re the grandma and all grandmas have cute hyper dogs so that’s my thought process!!!!!

#via’s celebration 🍄#🎃

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unadulterated-syd · 2 years

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ah words cant explain how excited i am for this!!! please can i request a male boy meets world matchup???

i know you know all of this by now but i’ll send it all again just as a reminder <3 i go by she/her pronouns. my name is florence but most people call me flo or other nicknames. i’m a fair skinned 5’3 girl with long curly gold hair that is cut in 90s layers with long side bangs. it’s typically held off my face with a ballet pink coloured ribbon. i have downturned doe eyes that are constantly switching between blue, green and grey. i always curl my lashes and wear mascara because sadly naturally i have very straight pale lashes. i have a slim, slight figure. my face only has a few freckles but i have a lot on my body. i have a small ring of freckles on my knuckle which i love!!! my cheeks are always flushed and i have a small gap betweeen my front 2 teeth.

i really love classic literature and vintage books!!! along with vintage movies (especially audrey hepburn movies, i’m literally obsessed with her) i love alternative music from the 80s. think the smiths, blondie, echo and the bunnymen + not from the 80s lana <333 though to be fair i just adore anything from the past. but also i thrive listening to vintage love songs. i dress in a very typically feminine way with ditsy floral patterns and lace being a staple in my wardrobe. i love pressed flowers and journaling.

omg thank you do much im literally so excited for this

i think you'll be excited to hear these ones tehe !!

since i made you wait so long + i don't remember your preference !! i gave you a gal and a guy :))

also i totally think i said this to you last time but you're literally like the coolest person ever???

I give you,,

-> Eric Matthews !!

obviously i have to give you Eric,, because it works so well on different levels

a. you're both emotional people,, i mean think u guys argue and then you guys just cry together because it was stupid and there's no way either of u could be gen mad ☹️💓

b. you'd be different from the normal relationships he has,, like you guys actually connect rather than looks alone + that's why it lasts,, because he really liked you

c. friends to lovers bc he'd like not think of you romantically until he says something to jack or corey and they make fun of him for "being in love"

d. he'd listen to any music i think,, you play it and he'll just enjoy it he doesn't care

e. he would LOVE to listen to hyperfixations + it takes him awhile to understand so he finds it really nice that u treat him intellectually equal,, like taking the time to explain certain things to him

f. you could befriend morgan and she'd love ur aesthetic let's be honest

g. plus you're both naive so neither one of you feels guilty if you accidentally fall for something,, like emotionally you guys get one another there!!

h. also he LOVES physical affection,, like you're both constantly touching each other in some way. but not in a way that makes others uncomfortable if that makes sense??

i. lastly,, he's very compassionate so id just see u both as being insufferable + movie night and you're both just abnoxiously sobbing over something small (super silly to me but Corey would complain the WHOLE time)

i give you,,

-> angela moore !!

i was inbetween angela and rachel here,, but i decided angela,, here's why !

a. she's canonically really into literally, poetry, classic literature,, so the two of you already share a huge part of interest together. analyzing works + reading together >>

b. golden retriever and blackcat gfs !!

c. i think angela would really like the type of movies your into,, and i think she would sit there comforting you after movies like "hon theyre not real are you ok???"

d. she doesn't get how you cry when you're angry,, but she also adores it in a way?? like she's very used to arguments getting heated but you guys have a very open line of communication bc of the way you handle things??

e. you guys would 50/50 music i think,, somedays it's yours all day and some it's hers rather than arguing over it. like you both LIKE each other's music enough to be like "okay you can play it today"

f. she likes how clingy you are affection wise,, goes out of her way to like always hold ur hand or smthn so you're comfortable !!

g. will protect u from anyone who tries to take advantage of u,, she's really good at reading people in that way + she doesn't make you feel less

h. also u guys are like polar opposites aesthetic wise,, and so u guys literally just surprise people when they find out you're together + she finds it really funny

hope this was worth the wait!!! :DD

#matchups #*＊✿❀ flo 🐇 ❀✿＊*

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itsjaywalkers · 2 years

Text

15 questions | 15 people

thanks @anouri @pjxckson and @sonwar for the tag <333

Are you named after anyone? nope!! but my mum was pretty set on my name, didn't even discuss it with my dad

When was the last time you cried? i teared up on saturday bc of rowan's akiangel playlist but the last time i properly cried i think it was on friday bc of the crimson rivers' update lmao

Do you have kids? no

Do you use sarcasm a lot? not as often as i used to

What’s the first thing you notice about people? their eyes!! and any kind of detail that identifies them or makes them stick out, like maybe piercings, or hair dyed a vibrant colour, or even their particular sense of style

What’s your eye color? brown!!

Scary movies or happy endings? i think you can have both!! but if i had to choose i prefer scary movies

Any special talents? i'm pretty good at dancing? does that count as special? also i'm pretty good at guessing other people's zodiac signs

Where were you born? spain

What are your hobbies? writing, reading, watching horror films, playing stardew valley

Do you have any pets? i do!! a dog named dama!! she's technically my dad's and since i'm studying abroad i only see her during holidays (i miss her very much)

What sports do you play/have played? i used to play soccer back in school, but i'm not fond of the sport. i also did rhythm gymnastic for like. a year. and i also danced!! for six years

How tall are you? 1,64!! which is 5,4 in feet according to google

Favorite subject in school? english and (spanish) literature!! i got into history too during the last couple of years

Dream job? none, because in my dream life i would not have to work!! but i think i'd love to work in publishing, or as a librarian, or even in a bookshop!! anything related with books tbh. and of course there's also being a writer, but that's a lot less realistic

i don't think i can tag 15 people, especially because i'm pretty certain all of my mutuals have already done this but !! if you see this and want to give it a go, feel free to do so <3

#this was fun!!!#tag game

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moonlitmeeks · 3 years

Text

"𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬!" - 𝐤𝐚𝐳 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing; kaz brekker x gn!reader

summary; when some poor, unassuming children decide to trick or treat on the door of the slat, you have to give kaz a warning before opening it.

warnings; very brief alcohol mention, slight inaccuracies and possible ooc kaz

a/n; hi!! i just wanna preface this by saying i've never written for kaz before, so im still getting the hang of his character - pls don't be too harsh as i know it isn't perfect!! that being said,, hope you like this <333

with your boyfriend’s apparent affinity for all things horrifying and dark, it was quite the surprise that halloween wasn’t right up his alley.

but no, getting dressed up and parading around the streets in costumes whilst collecting overly sugary candy and drinking cheap alcohol would apparently ruin the bastard of the barrel’s reputation.

kaz had turned down your offers of a small halloween party at the crow club multiple times, and when jesper suggested he would buy him an ‘incredibly dashing’ costume, he’d offered him a more colourful response. jesper had no more bright ideas for the rest of the day after that.

so, no extravagant halloween plans, kaz had decided. and you had begrudgingly agreed to that; on one condition.

the two of you would watch at least one scary movie and eat junk food back at your room, absolutely no costumes necessary.

kaz had agreed with a roll of the eyes.

this had led you to your current situation: you sitting cross-legged on the couch with kaz at your side, face set as he stared forward at the film passively.

a chorus of deep knocks made you jump, placing a hand on your heart and muttering various curse words under your breath as your heart rate returned to normal.

kaz raised a hand, eyebrows furrowed and eyes thin as listened with pursed lips. of course, he could never be too careful - kaz brekker was many things, but beloved by many was not one of them.

his expression turned to one of confusion when he heard the excited chattering and giggling coming through the wood.

trick or treaters.

a hint of a smirk tugged at the left corner of his mouth - barely there, but it was something you easily noticed after years of keeping his company.

kaz wasn’t a man of many outward emotions. much like his tricks, when it came to his emotions he was one for the subtleties, taking more of a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ approach.

the gears in your brain began to turn furiously, and once you had caught up to his train of thought, you gasped.

“kaz brekker, do not scare those kids!” you pointed your index finger at him, jabbing the air violently to punctuate every word as it left your mouth to make your point.

kaz merely blinked.

“well they should be more careful about where they knock.”

“kaz, they’re children.” you countered.

he drummed his fingers against the head of his cane which was clasped between his two hands, a pattern of behaviour which told you he was considering the words you'd just spoken to him. he pushed back a strand of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes, then shifted to look at you.

“sure, but this is the barrel. they should know what to expect." he paused, and as he spoke again, his tone shifted. "besides, what if pekka sent them? you should never let your guard down, y/n. it's dangerous."

venom laced the name you were all too familiar with as kaz spat out his suspicions, like it pained him to even say it.

before you could open your mouth to argue, to ask why pekka rollins would enlist a group of children to do his bidding, another succession of knocks rang through the door.

nina poked her head around the door frame, her expression exasperated. “saints, is anyone going to answer that, or should i?”

“i-”

“i’ll get it.”

and with that, he was gone, the steady rhythm of his cane hitting the floor echoing through the hallway. hoping to beat him to the door, you grabbed a random bag of sweets and rushed after him, cursing him under your breath as nina laughed at the two of you.

to your dismay, you were too late.

kaz's gloved hand had already turned the handle of the door, revealing a group of three children in, honestly adorable, costumes.

one was adorning a large sheet with eyeholes cut out in a mock imitation of a ghost, the girl to his right grinning through awkwardly sized plastic vampire fangs. behind them stood a boy in a mask. all three held out pillow cases, jolly voices chorusing "trick or treat!" with wide grins.

a shiver ran through your body as leather-clad fingertips brushed yours, gone as fast as they had arrived.

stone faced, kaz rummaged around in the bag that was once in your palm before dropping a generous handful of sweets into each child's pillowcase. their appreciative 'happy halloween mister!' was cut off by kaz shutting the door abruptly, turning to face you with a raised eyebrow.

he was clearly amused at your worry, delighting in purposely leading you to believe he'd scare the children in some form.

"you're the worst." you scoffed

"and you're no fun."

kaz terrorising children my beloved <3 this isn't the best, i apologise but c'est la vie <3 feedback/reblogs are much appreciated!!!

taglist; @wlfstxr @cozyballofanxiety @lxncelot (if your name is italicised, i can't tag you for some reason!!)

six of crows masterlist ! halloween horrors masterlist !

#becca's halloween horrors!#becca's writing <3 #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #six of crows x reader #six of crows

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astradis · 2 years

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omg can i please request a stranger things matchup??? you’re writing style is so pretty <333

and could it please be one of the fruity four???

my name is florence but most people call me flo or other nicknames. i’m a tanned 5’4 slim girl with long curly gold hair that i typically hold off my face with a ballet pink coloured ribbon. i have eyes that are constantly switching between blue, green and grey. my face is littered with freckles but i don’t have a lot on my body. i’m bisexual.

i’m extremely physically affectionate. my friends irl will tell anyone that because i’m nearly always holding their hands or looping my arms with theirs. i also get told that my personality reminds people of miss honey or cinderella. so i guess that means i’m pretty soft spoken and kind. i’m very quiet when i first meet people but once they probably know me i can ramble for ages about my hyper-fixations.i can be kinda naive but only because i always wanna see the good in people!!! i don’t really get angry or when i am angry i just end up crying.

i really love classic literature and vintage books!!! along with vintage movies (especially audrey hepburn movies, i’m literally obsessed with her) i love alternative music from the 80s. think the smiths, blondie, echo and the bunnymen. but also i thrive listening to vintage love songs. i dress in a very typically feminine way with ditsy floral patterns and lace being a staple in my wardrobe. i love pressed flowers and journaling.

ok i think i’ve rambled about myself enough. but seriously thank you so, so much for doing this it really means a lot to me!!! <333

YOU ARE ONE OF THE SWEETEST SOULS I WILL PROBABLT EVER INTERCAT WITH ON THIS APP. I LOV EYOU FLO 😭

you know who else would love you too?

NANCY WHEELER

you and nance would have such an adorable romance. you know how i imagine it’d go? nancy has probably thought of herself as straight for a while. she knew she thought girls were pretty, but she felt something change in her the moment she laid eyes on you. it was like the attraction she’d felt toward steve, but… more? she felt the need to be by you all the time as soon as you two had your first conversation. she chalked it up as she now had a friendship she could equate to barb, but it was almost like it was more than that. with nancy, there’s a lot of realizing it’s more than platonic. it’s more than just, ‘florence is the most gorgeous girl i’ve ever seen.’ it is definitely more than ‘i’d probably kiss her if she was a guy.’ she would kiss you how you are now, and that’s what set off her crush for good.

you two would be the cutest couple. nancy would be a lot more in her masculine when she’s around you. she feels a need to protect- even though she knows you can protect yourself. your dates would consist of making your way to fields and putting flowers in each other’s hair and proceeding to roll down hills together and kiss at the bottom. you two would hold hands as much as you could, admiring the paint that adorned your nails that was put there by the other. you knew your relationship couldn’t be public for a while, but you wanted to love her just the same. you wanted to love her like your love was normal, as did she.

Nancy pulls you by the hand, her skirt flowing behind her as she rushes up a hill with you trying your best to catch up.

“What’s the rush, Nance?” You ask, a giggle leaving your lips as she looks back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“‘What’s the rush, Nance?’ More like, where’s the pep in your step, Flower?” There goes the sweet nickname you came to love, making your heart skip a beat and your face flush.

The stars above you twinkled brightly, lighting the path up to the highest hill in Hawkins, Indiana. Before you was the bird’s eye view of the carnival below, and you suddenly realized why you two were here.

“The fireworks?” You asked bashfully, your hand squeezing hera a bit more tightly now understanding aforementioned rush. “Nance, how did- But, didn’t the others want to watch them all together?”

“Flower…” She started. “We have the rest of our lives to spend with those dorks. We don’t know how long we both have… I want to love you now. Not later, never ever later.”

As you smiled and she pulled you in for a kiss, the first firework lit the sky.

#nancy wheeler #nancy stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler matchup

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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years

Note

would u possibly do some NSFW morbell? where they're up in colter ( i loved ur original morbell post on them ) pls do more as i love ur blog 💛

this is an absolute mess oml i literally have no idea how to write anything smutty but here we go i guess. I love this pair but i kinda went off topic and centred this on a praise kink for micah. ANYWAY this is probably terrible since i'm melting, its literally 40 degrees and the aircon is broken so its unedited af and i wont look at it again until i have a cold drink. but pls enjoy some morbell <333

------------------------------------

‘Cold up in Colter’

Fuck, what a mess Blackwater had been. The Pinkertons were on them faster than ever and they found themselves fleeing from a blood bath.

That was almost three days ago and Micah hadn’t had an ounce of sleep. He’d been sent out with John to scout ahead, having found a homestead which ended up burning at the hand of O’Driscoll’s. Okay maybe house burning down was his fault but he tends to make stupid decisions when he’s had little to know sleep. And it was so fucking cold.

That didn’t stop heat rising to his face when he felt Arthur’s hands on his shoulder, pushing him back with a roughness he could only wish for in another way. Damn Arthur Morgan and his ability to have Micah curling in on himself and blushing like a virgin at the mere thought of a hand on his shoulder.

He should hate Arthur, really the two are nothing more than rivals, competing for the spot of Dutch Van Der Linde’s right hand. At the beginning, almost six months ago now, Micah couldn’t stand the sight of the man but somehow that anger tapered off into something more akin to admiration and that admiration slowly turned to desire.

He’ll never admit to how badly he wants Arthur but he won’t deny however that he’s pushed the man’s buttons more than once just to have an interaction with him. All he had to do start a silly argument over camp earnings or a bet at five finger fillet to have the man shaking him by the collar and threatening to break his nose.

It almost always ended with Micah sneaking off into the woods with half a bottle of whiskey and his pants bunched around his ankles as he thought of the way Arthur roughed him up by his shirt collar. Fuck he was pathetic sometimes.

There were other occasions where the two had actually managed to get along and that’s what pissed Micah off more than any threats of violence. Arthur just had to go and bring him a beer as he grabbed one for himself, letting their fingers touch accidentally. Or he went and offered him a seat by the fireplace where they ended up much to close for his comfort. Damn Arthur for always leaving him short of breath with a hole in his heart.

Despite what Micah did to impress Dutch, Arthur was still the camp’s favourite by a mile and he never failed to outcompete him in the eyes of the gang. Micah never minded much, not looking for anyone’s approval, but the thought of proving himself to Arthur, of being worthy of his praise is enough to have his wild side reined in.

Naturally that didn’t stop Micah from losing it from time to time and wasn’t surprised when his jealousy shot up again as Miss Grimshaw announced Arthur got his own cabin while he shared with the rest of the fellers. And he’d be damned if he had to share a room with Williamson who didn’t stop snoring.

That’s why he found himself huddled in the makeshift stables, choosing instead to wrap himself in his coat and down a bottle of whiskey to wait the night out. He cold planks he was sitting on offered little comfort and the draft in the room had his lip shaking. But at least he wouldn’t have anyone in his hair and he’d be left alone, just the way he liked it.

Of course that didn’t last long when the cranky wooden door was barged open, spooking some of the horses in the opposite end of the room. A broad figure entered the room, blocking most of the door way but that didn’t stop to whoosh of cold air flood into the room, draining even more colour from his face.

It wasn’t until the door was closed and the man stepped closer when he realised it was Arthur.

“Micah? What the hell are you doing in here?”

Arthur sounded surprised, with only a hint of concern in his voice.

“Sleepin’— what the hell ya doing here Morgan?”

There wasn’t much of a response from Arthur, only a quiet noise which was barely heard over the whistle of the wind between the planks. He walked over to the horses, checking over them and ensuring none of them were freezing to death. Micah watched in silence, scared to disturb the man as he patted along Taima’s neck.

It wasn’t until after Arthur had checked over all the horses did he turn his attention to Micah.

Micah watched as Arthur’s gloved hand extended out and offered itself to him, he hesitated before taking before taking it and being pulled to his feet. Arthur’s hand draped over his shoulder which he didn’t realise had shaking in an effort to keep warm, having drunk the remaining whiskey from the bottle.

“Common now, yer gonna freeze in here alone.”

Micah dug his heels into the ground, not allowing Arthur to pull him any further to the door as he tried to hold his voice steady. He’d be damned if he ever let Arthur know just how much he affected him.

“I ain’t sharing a bunk with Williams—“

Arthur tutted, pulling Micah out the door as he pushed him towards his cabin in the snow storm.

“Quit yer yapping, you’re sharing with me and I ain’t having any more folk die tonight. Now let’s go.”

Arthur didn’t utter another word until they were well and truely in his room, wrapped in a blanket that was barely big enough for the two of them. The bed wasn’t much bigger, having been made for one person which was evident by Arthur pressing against Micah’s back in efforts for them to fit. The only thing that kept them apart was the fabric of their jackets, otherwise Arthur would probably hear Micah’s heartbeat which was beating much to fast for his liking.

The uncomfortable silence was broken when Micah cursed under his breath which caused his teeth to chatter and Arthur spoke up.

“Yer still cold, c'mere”

Micah’s breath fell short as Arthur’s hands slid under his coat, resting his hands on his tummy to use his body heat as a source of warmth. In doing so Arthur had moved even closer, ensuring Micah’s back was flush against his chest.

Despite that Micah wanted to protest, to go straight to his default of arguing he couldn’t help but feel as he began to warm up and he slowly relaxed under his hands.

A blush rose high on his cheeks as Arthur also relaxed into their embrace, accidentally letting his hands drift lower until he felt the hard press of Micah’s straining erection against his knuckle.

Micah instantly sucked in a breath, panicking and trying to push his way out of Arthur’s hold.

“Shit Arthur I—“

Micah froze as Arthur gently pulled him back to the bed and rubbed slow circles along his stomach.

“S’alright Micah, I’m not mad…”

Arthur held him close, letting him relax before talking again before he whispered right into the shell of his ear.

“…This what you want? Is this why you’re always staring at me from across camp, why yer always picking fights and asking me to robberies?”

A high pitched noise left Micah as he shivered, feeling Arthur’s hot breath against his ear. His blush deepened as he pushed back slightly into him, whimpering at the feel of Arthur’s own erection pressed against his ass.

Fuck it, he thought as heat pooled in his abdomen and he finally allowed himself to have the one thing he’d been craving for months. He nodded frantically, grinding back onto Arthur’s clothed dick and squirming in his grip.

“Relax boy, gonna give you everything you’ve been waiting for— just be good and you’ll get it”

Micah nodded in agreement, a needy, desperate sound leaving him at the promise of praise. He wanted, no needed to be praised by the man so badly that he’d do anything for an ounce of it from the man.

“Oh god Arthur! I need it, need you. Fuck I can be good I promise.”

He knew he was probably being too loud but apart of him didn’t have it in him to care. He moaned softly as Arthur moved him to roll onto his back, towering over him but ensuring they were still kept under the blanket.

Arthur spent the next ten minutes undressing him without exposing much of his skin to the cold. He unbuttoned the lower buttons of his leather jacket, enough for Arthur to work his fly down and pull one pant leg off. He whined pitifully, grabbing at the lapels of Arthur’s coat in a silent plea for him to undress him properly.

Micah mentally scolded himself at just how desperate he was for Arthur to rip his clothes off and fuck him like a bitch in heat but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. Arthur however caught on pretty quickly to what he wanted, it seemed the man knew just what made him tick.

“I know sweetheart, once we’re well and truly outta here I’ll get us a room and we can do this properly.”

Micah’s eyes beamed at the thought of Arthur taking him to a hotel in the future, panting as his mind raced with images of Morgan making him fall apart on his cock for hours on end.

While Micah was busy in his mind, Arthur took the opportunity to retrieve the gun oil from his satchel. It certainly wasn’t the best option but it was their only choice with their limited supplies.

Arthur draped himself back over Micah’s body, kissing at his jaw and nibbling as he coated his fingers. The air was cold, only making the oil feel colder as he slowly dipped his index finger past Micah’s rim.

A devilish grin came to Arthur’s face as he heard Micah sigh and take his finger easily, deciding to work his way up to two sooner than he was expecting.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time haven’t you? I saw you once, bout a week ago. Head down, ass up with three of yer fingers inside you while you cried out for me to fuck you. It all clicked in my head then when you started acting different around me at camp.”

Micah flushed a deep red, coughing on air as he realised Arthur knew about his little crush. He tried to think of an excuse, to weasel his way out of it but his thoughts died in his head when Arthur twisted his fingers, scissoring and stretching him open before adding a third.

Arthur dragged a lip along Micah’s cheek to his lip, ghosting his lips over his before kissing him properly. This time Micah didn’t even try to fight for dominance, opening his mouth instantly for Arthur’s tongue to enter. Instead he sighed into it, pulling his legs to wrap around his waist as his hands wrapped around his lover’s shoulder.

It went on like that until Arthur was satisfied that Micah was well prepped enough, simultaneously rubbing against Micah’s prostate while he kissed him deeply. He only pulled away to pull his own leaking member out, bunching his pants around his thighs so he had enough room to move but could stay warm. He coated the rest of the oil onto his member, jerking slowly as he stared down at the sight of Micah below him.

Micah looked like an absolute mess against the pillows already, his face was flush and the scarf around his head had unwrapped slightly, revealing his disheveled blond hair. His chest was heaving as he panted and his thighs shook from pleasure as the weakly wrapped around his waist.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart”

To say that Micah hated the pet name was a lie, one that he didn’t try deny as he moaned softly. His back arched and he gripped Arthur’s coat tightly as he felt his cock slide between his cheeks and over his hole. He’s wanted this for so long now and yet somehow it still didn’t quite feel real as his mind was clouded with arousal.

Micah’s toes curled and he moaned when he felt Arthur push into him, slowly inching forward until he felt him bottom out.

“Ah— ah! Oh Arthur fuck! Please fuck me, I’ll be good I swear.”

Micah practically sobbed with pleasure as Arthur set up a fast pace, pulling almost all the way out till just the tip was left inside his tight hole before pushing back in quickly, brushing his prostate in the process. His cock twitched from where it rested against his tummy, pinned between Arthur’s jacket which caused a string of moans to fall from his mouth.

“Look at you, so good for me— fucking perfect Micah. Such a good boy”

Arthur’s hands came to hold onto Micah’s hips for leverage, pulling on his slight muffin top under the jacket to help pull him back to meet his thrusts. Beneath him he heard Micah whine and whimper at the praise so desperately needed to hear.

Micah bought a finger up to his mouth, biting on his knuckle to silence any more noises he deemed to be pathetic from slipping out of him. He hated how close he already was just from being praised by Arthur.

It seemed Arthur wasn’t having any of it when he pulled his finger away from his mouth before kissing him like he had done not that long ago. He swallowed every one of Micah’s noises, mindful of Dutch sleeping next door and slowing his thrusts to something deeper and slower.

His hands roamed all over Micah’s clothed body, breaking away for air and whispering praises down his ear.

“That’s it, make those pretty noises for me sweetheart.”

Micah eye’s rolled into his head as he cried out.

“You’re mine, all for me— my good boy.”

More moans slipped from his lips.

“Atta boy— taking me so well, so good.”

His back arched and he withered in his embrace

“So eager to please aren’t you? I’ll take care of you now boy.”

“—Arthur! I’m close— Ah, I’m gonna—“

“Go on sweetheart cum for me…that’s it good boy.”

Micah’s whole body when rigid as he finally came. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling out as his orgasm dragged out with each thrust Arthur delivered, eager to chase his own.

He collapsed into the pillow, thighs shaking as he whined at the oversensitivity. It didn’t last long before Arthur’s thrusts changed pace to something more erratic, picking up the pace as he spilled his load inside him.

Arthur groaned into his neck, pulling him close and collapsing into him as he regained his breath.

He pulled out slowly with a wet and obscene pop, sitting up and helping Micah put his clothes back on. Micah only weakly managed to fiddle with the button on his jacket while Arthur gently manhandled his jelly-like limbs to fit back into his pant leg. He used the blanket to wipe the cum off his tummy, a weak attempt at cleaning up and something they would both no doubt regret come tomorrow morning but for now they were keen to sleep after such a horrific and chaotic few days.

Arthur pulled Micah into their original position for the night, the only difference being that his face was now tucked into his chest. Arthur rested his chin of Micah’s head, littering his hair with kisses as he played with his hair between his rough fingers.

Micah was the first to fall asleep, curled up with his forehead against Arthur’s collarbone. Arthur wasn’t far behind him either, finally letting himself get some much needed rest but not before he pressed a soft kiss to his hairline.

#morbell #micah bell #arthur morgan

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doiefy · 4 years

Text

blue // na jaemin

“The winter has passed and the spring has come We have withered and our hearts are bruised from longing”

- blue, bigbang

In which one ceases to age until they find their soulmate, with whom they then grow old. In which everyone has moved on without you.

genre: soulmate!au, fluff, angst, slow burn

pairings: jaemin x female reader (written with a female character in mind, but it can easily be gender neutral!), features relationships with other dream members, briefly mentions haechan x jeno

word count: 11.6 k

warnings: language, mentions of alcohol and smoking, mentions of war, mentions of death, discussions of Korea under Japanese occupation, some of the historical references may be inaccurate.

taglist (DM, comment or Ask to be added): @simplicitysbabe Big thank you to @neojaems for beta reading this for me !! <333

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Your test comes back blue.

When you rip open the envelope containing your results, you find the little coloured square hidden between pages and pages of lab protocols, testing procedures and other nonsense you know no one actually has the time to read. Then there are the stupid pamphlets, the ones with overtly bright and bubbly messages reassuring people that they’ll find their “special someone” soon, slogans most likely written by people who found their soulmates before they even turned twenty. You scoff, shoving the useless papers back into the envelope and recalling the first time you tested back in 1945, right after the war. The receptionist wrote your results down on a piece of paper and nonchalantly told you to have your emotional breakdown outside.

Now you stare at the blue marking on your paper blankly. It simply means you haven’t aged biologically in ten years, but when you haven’t aged in decades, it means nothing. While the world progresses, you remain frozen in the same body, playing a cruel game with fate. And as with any game that one cannot win, you’ve slowly become bored with it, allowing it to take its course while you sit idle nearby. You feel only disappointed, and not even perplexed or surprised in the slightest. Something about meeting Jaemin just seemed too good to be true; after a lifetime of misfortune and failure, something about the bad news feels… expected. Inevitable. As if unconsciously, you knew he wasn’t the one.

Na Jaemin is not your soulmate. And you spend the walk home contemplating how you’ll tell him this.

When you unlock the door to your shared apartment, you know he’s already home, and earlier than usual: his shoes are placed meticulously on the rack by the door and his jacket is hung up next to the messenger bag he takes to work. The living room smells faintly of the pine and vanilla candle you bought last month, and you smell traces of shampoo and bodywash from the bathroom.

“I’m home!” you call out as you kick your shoes off and put them neatly next to Jaemin’s. There’s a muffled response of your name before the door to your room opens. Then his arms are around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he mumbles a tired greeting.

“Bad day?” You ask softly, pushing all your other thoughts to the back of your head. He looks exhausted. His hair is tucked messily under the hood of his navy sweater, still damp from the shower he took earlier. His eyes lack the usual brightness you often find yourself so immersed in, replaced with the fatigue and weariness he almost never brings home.

“I hate this company,” he sighs as you run your fingers through his hair. You feel him relax in your arms a bit. “My boss is a dick, everyone in my department hates each other and the coffee tastes like actual ass. Maybe I should just quit while I still can.”

You frown. “Jaem, you’ve been with them for literally a month. You can’t possibly be thinking about quitting already.”

“A month! A month in and I’m already having mental breakdowns under my desk at lunch. Imagine what will become of me if I spend a year there,” he scowls, but his expression softens when you kiss him reassuringly on the cheek. “Alright, alright, fine, maybe not quit, maybe I’ll just take a long, long, vacation and then retire… Move to the countryside with you…” He trails off dreamily and for a moment, you lose yourself in the fantasy he’s painted for you. The mental image of a quaint house by the ocean is quickly shattered when you remember the test results hidden in your bag. The sunflowers you envisioned surrounding the cottage are blown away in the wind, their bright yellow petals swallowed by the blueness of the sky.

“Oh, you wish,” you laugh, quickly pressing your lips to his in hopes that he won’t see your expression, that he won’t see the sadness and regret you’re fighting to suppress. “Maybe, baby, maybe one day we can do that.”

“Maybe,” he laughs, his face lighting up with the energy and liveliness that has been missing. “But enough about me. How was your day, love?”

“Mm. The same old,” you say, pulling out of his arms so you can finally take your jacket off. You crash into the couch where you fold up your scarf and toss it aside. “Stressful.”

He stares at you for a hard moment, visibly concerned as if he can tell there’s something troubling on your mind. “Is something the matter?” He asks carefully, sitting down next to you. He holds you at arm’s length so he can look at you properly. “Is this about the test?”

“What? Oh, no, not the test. I doubt the results will come in until sometime next week.” The lie slips out easier than it should, and you feel guilt slowly start to twist your insides. Just a white lie, you tell yourself. It can’t hurt anyone but yourself. He’s been through enough today. He’s tired. Not tonight. It can wait. “I’m just tired,” you shrug. “I need some dinner and a nap, then I’ll be all good again. Do we still have anything in the fridge or should we order takeout?”

“I already ordered chicken from Yong’s. I had a feeling that today would be a bad day for the both of us,” Jaemin grins. His smile is smug at first, then endearing when he sees your shock.

You practically pounce on him in excitement, and the two of you go crashing into the couch cushions until you have him pinned beneath you. “Oh my god, I fucking love you, you know that?”

Jaemin groans, curling into himself as he gives you a wounded look. “And that’s how you show your love? By trying to break my bones?”

“Besides the point,” you huff. “You aren’t going to say it back?”

“Yes, of course. I love you too.”

Unsatisfied with his answer, you lower your face so your lips are hovering just inches above his. He looks up at you starry-eyed, his fingers ghosting over your cheeks; you can’t help but notice the way his gaze travels briefly to your lips.

Then you realize how dangerous this is. You know that he’s not the one. You know that you’ll eventually part ways with him when he finds out, no matter how reluctant you’ll feel. Every moment you spend with him like this will come back to haunt you when he’s gone. It will become another reminder of what you’re about to lose, yet here you are, falling deeper into his embrace, intoxicated by his scent and lost in the depth of his eyes. You are only tying more strings between the two of you, strings that will need to be stretched and snapped. You are only making it more painful for the both of you.

But for tonight, you don’t care.

“Say it like you mean it,” you whisper.

He holds your face gently, and those sparks you felt upon your first meeting with him are still there, igniting each time he looks at you, blazing into an open flame when he tells you, “I love you.”

You kiss him with more urgency this time, your lips meeting his in a clash of teeth and tongue. He puts his hands around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer to him. For just a moment, you’re focused on only him and his presence. For just a moment, you forget about everything; the sheet of test results is just another piece of paper in your bag, the blue mark just another colour. Because tonight, he is all that matters to you.

You met Na Jaemin almost three years ago.

Though the details have faded with time, you remember your first conversation well. It began at a friend’s art show beneath the golden glow of the studio lights, the two of you surrounded by brilliant splashes of colour and bold strokes of texture. Renjun had insisted on introducing you to Jaemin before you even arrived at the gallery, and you couldn’t have possibly refused. Your friendship with Renjun goes way back to the 40s, and you often think he knows you better than you know yourself. “I think he could be good for you,” he told you quietly just before leaving to speak with his other guests.

At first, Jaemin seemed timeless. It was as if he didn’t belong to any particular time period, as if he had lived to see several generations rise and fall, but had never risen or fallen with any of them. Dressed elegantly in a fitted turtleneck and a wool coat, he appeared youthful and contemporary; yet the way he spoke hinted at a certain maturity, at wisdom and sagacity. There was something charming about him too, something about the way he recounted events of the past and drew you in with only his words.

Next to a breathtaking oil painting of the sea, you discovered your commonalities. He was almost two decades younger, but like you, had spent his entire life searching for a partner without much success. You were delighted to learn that he had also worked in teaching—though he mentioned changing careers frequently whenever things became too mundane. He was effortlessly intriguing, and every word he spoke was lively and animated. He infused your conversations with colours, painted everything in bright yellows and aquamarines that matched the swirling paint strokes of the artworks around you, left you wanting to know more without even trying.

You left the gallery that night with his number in your coat pocket. Needless to say, Renjun was thrilled.

Weeks passed before you saw him again. Your busy schedules always managed to get in the way of your plans, but the two of you still kept in touch, chatting late into the night and well into the early hours. As the months went by, you dared to hope that maybe he was the one.

You immediately scolded yourself for being naive. With all your past partners, you had been hopeful in the same way, only to be let down in the end. Your test when you were with Donghyuck came back blue, as did the one with Mark. Both have since moved on, found their soulmates and written their happy endings. Even if you still stay in touch and meet up for an occasional coffee, you know that you are only a distant memory to them in some way or another.

The prospect of the same thing happening with Jaemin had never occurred to you—you’d been so caught up in getting to know him, so blinded that you’d completely forgotten. And then you saw him differently. As if he were a flame that could be snuffed out in an instant, a feather that could be sent flying with the slightest breeze, the slightest breath. You mulled over it for weeks and always did so silently, until it finally came up in conversation.

Almost a year had passed since you’d met him. With the summer coming to an end, the two of you had driven down to the Han River where you sat in the open trunk of his car, sharing a can of cheap beer from the convenience store. There were no words, only the faint melody of an old pop song buzzing from your phone and his hand around yours.

“Move in with me,” he said at last, glancing at you expectantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It wasn’t completely out of the blue—you’d been searching for a new apartment for weeks—but it still took you by surprise. “Too fast?” He asked when he registered your shock.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head and squeezed his hand. “Don’t get me wrong Jaem, I’d love to. It’s just, I don’t know about any of this. About us. If we’re actually…”

He hummed a quiet response, his brows furrowing slightly in contemplation. “Soulmates,” he said with a melancholic sigh. “You don’t want to go any further before we know for certain. I understand.”

You nodded. “It always hurts, you know? You think you’ve finally found them only to realize you’ve been completely wrong the whole time.”

“I know,” he said, and his empathy flooded you with warmth and reassurance. “You always think you’ll be prepared for the next time. You always think it will hurt less as time goes by. But it doesn’t.”

“Exactly.”

You tipped the last of the beer into your mouth; it tasted faintly sweet on your tongue before dissolving into a pleasant bitterness that hit the back of your throat. When you were finished, Jaemin took the empty can and fiddled with the tab, bending it back and forth until it snapped off.

“I want it to be you,” he told you after a few minutes of silence. “I want it to be us.”

“And if we aren’t?”

He kissed you, hard enough for you to see stars. It wasn’t desperate or longing, but it seemed to convey a hundred different thoughts all at once, a hundred different emotions for you to decipher. When he finally pulled away, his voice was thoughtful and he was seemingly lost in a pleasant daydream. “Oh, love, the universe has already cursed us to search eternally. We may as well spend eternity together.”

“Seriously, Jaemin, what if we aren’t?”

The tremor of your voice snapped him out of it. The glimmer of hope disappeared from his pupils and the dream slipped from his hands.

“We’ve been alive for so long,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think I can go on like this. What if we aren’t meant to be? What will we do?”

You didn’t regret your time with Donghyuck or Mark or Jungwoo or any of the people you were lucky enough to have met, but you’d watched all of them from afar, watched them grow while you stayed frozen in time. Each new generation that came along was only a reminder of your loneliness. You felt a certain emptiness each time you invited new people into your life, one that deepened when they eventually left you behind. Or worse, when they gave you their pity. You couldn’t stand it when people told you that it was unfair or that you deserved better, all while they lived comfortably with their soulmates. You weren’t jealous, nor could you ever be angry at them for something beyond their control. Your anger was directed at the invisible forces that toyed with the world, the mischievous hands spinning the universe in some strange direction that left only you disoriented.

His expression took on a faint sadness and when he spoke again, his voice was calm, barely a whisper. “Then so be it. If you need to move on, it would be selfish of me to stop you from doing so.” He stared out at the waters wistfully, at the yachts sailing downstream. “And besides, you’re right. Maybe it’s time we settle down… even if it’s not with each other.”

Your birthday came a few months after that night, but you held off on testing. The bus you took home from work passed by one of the labs, but you never got off at the stop, always watched the doors open and close from your seat. The test isn’t that accurate anyways, you told yourself; it could produce only an approximate biological age, so maybe the longer you waited, the better.

But in the end, it was simply an excuse to escape reality, to avoid your confrontation with fate itself.

You moved in with him just before the end of the year.

New Year’s Eve wasn’t a big deal for you (you’d lived through too many for it to be exciting), but you spent the last minutes of the year with him, surrounded by cardboard boxes waiting to be unpacked. Jaemin had still made some sort of effort at festivities despite your indifference: pale pink and gold candles lit around the living room, golden champagne in delicate glasses set on the table.

You were almost asleep when the clock struck twelve, wrapped up in one of his oversized sweaters and a white throw blanket. The celebratory music blaring from the TV was muffled in your ears, a pleasant symphony that lulled you deeper into sleep until Jaemin awoke you with a kiss.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Jaem,” you mumbled, a smile ghosting your lips as you focused on the comfort you felt in his arms; on the new year, on your new home, new hope.

You know something’s wrong.

Jaemin doesn’t come out to greet you, even after you announce your arrival. He’s home—his shoes and coat are put away neatly like any other day—yet it’s deathly silent, terribly still. No music playing in the living room, no voice down the hallway. Only the occasional chirp from your broken smoke detector, which you’ve been meaning to fix for weeks. As you bend down to unlace your boots, you can’t help but worry.

You find him in your shared bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the comforter. The sun has almost set and the shadows stretch across the room, blanketing him in darkness and masking his expression with ambiguity. He doesn’t move when you turn on the lamp on the bedside table. He doesn’t move when you sit next to him.

There’s a familiar sheet of paper in his hands.

“Jaem, I…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It isn’t accusatory or hostile; his voice is laced with nothing but sadness, yet you feel so much guilt, guilt that closes around your throat and squeezes the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless. You kept it from him for days, and now this is the way he must find out about it. From a piece of paper you were careless enough to leave where he might find it. From a piece of paper detailing the DNA extracted from a sample of your blood. You should have told him.

“I didn’t know how to,” you let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you serious?” There it is, the cold edge that begins creeping into his voice as he stares down at you. He flicks a finger in the direction of the date printed at the top of the paper. “It’s been a week, Y/N. You kept this from me for a week. Why?”

“I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, okay?” It comes out sharper than you intended; you immediately begin to drown in guilt as soon as you see Jaemin’s expression fall. You didn’t mean to lash out, and now you make up for it by taking his hands in yours. They're ice cold. “Look, the day I found out, you were already tired from work. I didn’t want to bring it up and make everything worse—”

“So you lied. Said the results hadn’t come in yet,” he says flatly and you rush to defend yourself, only to realize that he’s right.

“I’m sorry.”

The rest of your words don’t come. With a tired exhale, you bury your head in your hands, too overwhelmed to say anything else. You can only hope that he’ll understand, that he’ll empathize and that he’ll forgive you, even if you don’t exactly believe you deserve any of it right now. You hold back the tears. Only when he pulls you into his arms do they fall. He takes your hands, gently pulling them away from your face so he can wipe your tears despite your protests. There’s no coldness in his expression now, only concern.

“I needed time to process everything,” you continue, but you choke on the words. “I couldn’t even accept it myself, I couldn’t—”

“I know, love,” he says quietly as his thumb brushes against your cheek. “I know. It’s alright.”

Your silent sniffles turn into unrestrained sobs as he pulls you into his embrace, your pent-up emotions finally released in the form of silvery streams on your cheeks. You aren’t sure how much time passes. The sun meets the horizon in a hazy line of faint pink and orange. The sky darkens. Outside, the city lights up in a multitude of hues, the amber light from the street below seeping into your room. The minutes go by, but Jaemin never lets go of you until your tears have run dry.

“Better?” He asks, albeit his voice is shaky, his gaze trembling when he looks up at you. You nod.

“We’ll figure this out,” his eyes seem to say. You can tell he’s just as terrified as you are, just as unsure and as lost. Though for now, you simply hold each other. You say nothing about the paper that lays discarded on the floor or what it entails, even if you both feel the need to address it, to face its implications. In this moment of brokenness, neither of you have the strength to do so.

You eventually collect yourselves. You make dinner and force yourselves to eat before passing a meaningless hour in front of the TV. You clean up, wash up. Sleep early in preparation for tomorrow. Jaemin never leaves your side.

“Where do we go from here?” You whisper into the darkness of your bedroom.

“Tomorrow, love,” you hear him say just before slipping into unconsciousness, into restless sleep.

According to Lee Donghyuck, the chances of meeting your soulmate are 1 in 10 000. Or at least, scientifically. Theoretically. Donghyuck was a man of logic and reason, and had your lives not revolved around soulmates like the earth revolved around the sun, perhaps he wouldn’t have believed in fate at all.

“Remove fate from the equation,” Donghyuck mumbled to himself thoughtfully, jotting a few numbers down on a paper napkin. “And let’s assume your soulmate is around your age.”

“Can’t you rule that one out too?” You pointed out, but he was too busy, already lost in his thoughts.

“If your soulmate is determined at birth and instantly recognizable at first sight… And they’re actually alive somewhere in the world…”

You watched the quick movements of his blue pen with intrigue. He spun the pen restlessly, allowing its barrel to cross over and under and between his fingers, at times so quickly that it became nothing but a blur of colour. Finally, he scribbled a final verdict and inked two definitive circles around it. “If fate hadn’t been so kind, the chances would have been one in ten thousand. One lifetime out of ten thousand.”

“That slim? Ten thousand lifetimes, that’s nearly impossible,” you said, skeptical but amused at his train of thought nonetheless. You took the napkin from him and looked over his calculations, though some of the numbers were too big for you to check without a calculator. You trusted that Donghyuck had done them correctly though. “You know, if you told that to someone who’d spent a century searching for their soulmate, they’d probably beat you up. You’re lucky I like you.”

He giggled. “We’re lucky it’s only hypothetical.” He took the napkin from you and crumpled it, smudging the neon blue ink on the tips on his fingers.

With Donghyuck, things were simpler. He was young, young enough to not be in a hurry, young enough to speak his thoughts so freely. He never pitied you or worried about offending you, and he never treated you as if you were out of place among the new generations. He offered you perspective. You knew that you weren’t meant for each other, but you were still content to spend your time with each other. To wait together.

“So… I might have found a new place.”

You don’t miss the surprise on Jaemin’s face when you tell him over dinner. His eyes widen a bit in curiosity, his brows arching upwards and his mouth falling slightly agape. He sets his fork down against his plate, folding his hands together the way he does when he’s deep in thought.

“Already?” He inquires. Maybe you imagine a hint of disappointment in his voice, a slight dip in his tone. He looks at you with a sort of sadness, as if trying to imagine what it would be like with you gone, to come home to an empty apartment every night. “Seriously, Y/N, you’re welcome to stay if you need to. We said we would take the changes slowly.” His words aren’t just out of consideration for you.

More than a month has gone by silently, and within that time, the frigid cold of winter has finally given way to spring. Nothing has really changed when you think about it, as if your test results are meaningless. And you suppose that they have become just that, a meaningless scrap of paper at the bottom of the recycling bin in the kitchen. Jaemin still holds you the same way, though his touches are just a little bit more fleeting. Your conversations still extend late into the night, though they feel just slightly melancholic. You hang onto his every word even while telling yourself not to, that maybe there is no point in doing so when everything is already coming to an end.

“I don’t know if I’ll take it… at least not for sure. And even if I do, I won’t be moving in until April. I just thought I’d tell you ahead of time,” you tell him, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think I need some time alone. So I can adjust to all of this.”

“No, I understand. It’s just a little jarring, you know? Don’t know what it’ll be like without you here.”

“It’s literally only a block away,” you giggle, and he smiles. “I’ll still be here.”

After the coolness of February comes grey skies and a drizzly March, heavy rainfall washing the white snow to grey slush. Eventually, the clouds part across the sky for the sun, allowing the brilliant blue of the sky to peek through. April comes sooner than expected, producing blooms of yellow and white in the flowery courtyards of your new apartment complex, bursts of bright colours along the cobblestone paths.

You stand surrounded by boxes in the middle of your new studio apartment, watching the people pass by on the streets below. The windows are cracked open for air and you can hear the bustle outside, the yells of the street vendors, an occasional shriek of a child’s laughter. The new bedframe and mattress you ordered stand leaning against the wall in the corner, waiting to be assembled. Jaemin stumbles through the door with another box and sets it down before dusting his hands off on his jeans.

“That’s the last one,” he says. He collapses on the couch that the previous owner left behind, out of breath. You sit down next to him, allowing him to rest his head on your lap. He finally looks around, then at you. “Everything you hoped for?”

You nod happily. “I’ll miss having you around though,” you chuckle, playing with the soft strands of his hair, freshly dyed—after losing a drunken bet to Renjun a week ago, he reluctantly let the latter bleach and tone his hair bright silver. But you think it suits him; it accentuates the darkness of his eyes and paleness of his skin, gives him a cold and chic edge offset by the gentleness of his smile.

“I’ll still be here,” he repeats your words from two months ago. “And you’ll be much closer to work, right? No more crazy subway routes and early mornings. At the cost of me being your personal alarm clock, of course.” He grins, and you smack him with a red throw pillow.

“I won’t miss that,” you roll your eyes teasingly.

“Whatever you say, love.” He lifts his head off your lap to press a kiss against your cheek.

You spend the rest of the afternoon with him, unpacking boxes, hanging up clothes, building the bedframe and fitting the mattress with clean sheets so that at least you’ll have somewhere to sleep tonight. When the sun sets, everything is lit in an ethereal glow, and you stare out the floor-length windows, admiring the sky. Jaemin joins you after a moment, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you rock back and forth to the steady rhythm of the music playing from his phone.

When he leaves in the evening, he gives you a final hug, jokingly telling you not to miss him too much. When he’s gone, you find yourself staring out the window once more, at the blocky silhouette of Jaemin’s building a few blocks away. He pointed it out earlier, thrilled that you could see so far from this high up.

You quickly learn that on cloudy days, it is nothing but a smudge of grey in the distance.

While Donghyuck always tried to ease your worries with reason and strokes of pen ink on his skin, Mark took you on long drives around the city, hoping that the wind blowing through your hair would clear your mind.

On late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you often found yourself in the passenger seat of his 1975 Hyundai Pony, listening to static-laced 80s rock music while he drove you around the streets of Seoul. He would always roll the windows down in the summer and watch the contentment on your face, one hand around yours while the other guided the wheel.

Mark Lee was even older than you—and with all the wars and tragedies he’d lived through, he understood what it felt like to be kept awake by the nightmares. To be kept awake by thoughts of loved ones being blown to bits, to be haunted with memories of the past. With how long he’d been searching for the right person, he knew the urgency you felt and the longing to finally settle down with a soulmate. He understood.

The stories he told you were woven between puffs of cigarette smoke and gentle kisses on your forehead. He told you about Canada and the mountains that surrounded Vancouver, where he’d spent some time in the 40s. He told you about his family, about his brother’s grandchildren who looked older than he did. It was strange, he’d admitted with a small laugh and sadness in his smile.

The two of you often pointed out buildings along the side of the road, reminiscing what stood in their place before the bulldozers and big trucks rolled in. Just down the street from his apartment, the old drive-in cinema was being replaced by an upscale theatre. Next to it, a park was being cleared for a new shopping centre. Even the studio he’d rented out last summer had been demolished so a new entertainment agency could build its empire. Once in a while, he would drive by and stare ruefully at the construction site—the classical compositions he’d once recorded there were being replaced by a new type of music, with catchy beats and pretty pop stars dressed in shiny outfits.

His music had been drowned out by a new industry, and likewise, many of the things you remembered from your childhood have been lost to time. Talking about the past with him helped you remember. It was a sort of reassurance even as you moved on.

Mark eased a bit of your pain, staying out with you until the early hours of morning to make sure that you were alright. The next morning, he would almost always call to ask if you’d slept okay, unless there was an issue with the old landline phone in his office. All concept of time disappeared when you were with him, along with your memories and the demons haunting your dreams. But eventually, he would drop you off at home and bid you goodnight, leaving you to watch him drive away. Eventually, the night came to an end.

He couldn’t stay with you the whole night, nor could he stay with you forever.

Your evenings are often interrupted by Jaemin’s messages asking you to come over. Sometimes he says that he misses you, or he wants to see you for dinner. Other times, he kisses you breathless against the closed door as soon as you’ve stepped inside, always with an unmatched fervour and urgency as if you might slip right through his grasp and disappear.

Tonight, however, it’s neither.

It’s half past midnight when your phone is set off in a series of quick vibrations. Wrapped in nothing but a towel with your hair still dripping, you type in a reply, hesitate, press send. You get changed, slipping into a pair of jeans and an oversized T-shirt before grabbing your keys.

Jaemin is uncharacteristically quiet when he opens the door for you, his gaze downcast so you can’t see his expression. He’s deteriorating; you can see it in the way he turns his back to you after locking the door, the way he walks inside with a halfhearted invitation for you to follow.

“What’s wrong?” You ask when you’ve sat down across from him.

“I think I found them,” he mumbles and you notice how he averts your gaze. “My soulmate, I mean. I think I found her.”

“Wait, then why with the long face? Jaem, that’s great—”

He cuts you off with a sharp bark of emotionless laughter. His expression turns bitter when he pulls his sleeve up to reveal a mark along his wrist: two linear streaks of dark purple that twist together like the centre petals of a rose. He stares at it, almost with contempt. Apart from the standardized DNA tests, markings are the only other way to identify soulmates, though they almost never show. No one has any proper explanation for them and you have no explanation for why Jaemin has one now.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s great. She’s smart. She’s funny. We have the same mark so I know it’s her,” he says shakily. “But god, I must have really fucked up in a past life to deserve this.”

You feel dread. It hits you all at once, because the way Jaemin speaks is so distant and unnerving, as if he’s lost himself in a trance and forgotten all about you. You’ve seen this dazed look before, only twice, when he was truly distressed and truly lost. This isn’t like him.

He found her. He should be happy. You should be happy for him. He should be happy.

“What is it?”

“I think I’m broken. Something’s wrong with me.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, and you try to keep the urgency out of your voice for his sake. He doesn’t say anything. “Jaemin?”

“I don’t feel anything when I’m with her. Nothing.”

You don’t register his words. They don’t make any sense to you. They are barely coherent. No, you think. That can’t be possible.

“Maybe we rejected each other in a past life and then both offed ourselves. Or maybe this is just the universe’s way of saying ‘fuck you.’ Maybe—”

“Stop that,” you tell him firmly. “Whatever this is, there has to be an explanation for it. Marks don’t just appear out of nowhere, right?” You pause to take a shaky breath, suddenly realizing that your words aren’t meant to comfort only him. “We can look into it. We can figure out what’s going on. This is the 21st Century, remember?”

“But what am I even supposed to tell her?” He demands, his tone exasperated and his brows furrowed together. “‘I know you’ve been looking for me for your whole life, but I can’t see you as anything more than a friend, sucks for you’? What do I do, spend the rest of my life drowning in guilt and self-pity because I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me to? Because I could only pretend?”

You have no answers for him. Perhaps he hasn’t felt anything for her because he hasn’t let go of you. Perhaps it really was a mistake, a freak accident in the cosmos that put the wrong marks on the wrong people, designating a pair that was never meant to be. Your thoughts run wild, but you can’t put anything into words for him. Even if you could, you don’t think you would have the strength to say anything aloud.

Instead, you hold him in your arms, wiping away the tears of frustration that have formed at the corners of his eyes, running your fingers through his hair. You can only hope that his soulmate will do the same for him some day, perhaps in some future where the cruel forces watching over you cease their endless games. Genuinely, you hope.

The tone goes off a third time. You glance at the clock across the room: 11 AM. He has to be up by now, you think to yourself as your fingers continue drumming a repetitive rhythm onto the kitchen counter.

“Hello?”

Just before the automated voice can tell you to leave a voicemail, he picks up. Donghyuck’s voice is groggy, as if he’s just woken up—or maybe he’s just about to go to bed. With his disaster of a sleep schedule, you can never be sure.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh hey, you, I know you.” You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. “How are you, Y/N? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“I’m alright, the usual, I guess. How about you? How’s Jeno?”

“Jeno adopted another cat because he’s fucking insane, so now we have three little furballs running around the house. But yeah, it’s going great! So great,” he drawls with a familiar bite of sarcasm. You smile to yourself. “If he brings home another one because ‘Oh Hyuck, look it’s so cute, can we keep it?’ I will literally choke him in his sleep. Anyways, what’s going on? You never call me.”

“You never pick up,” you huff, earning a small laugh from him. “Okay, I wanted to ask you something. What do you know about soulmate marks?”

Thoughtful silence. “Not much. I mean, I’ve got my theories, but nothing has really been proven. Why, did you get one?”

“No, not me. Jaemin.”

“Oh, Y/N… then that means…”

“It’s alright, don’t concern yourself with me, Donghyuck. I’m more worried about him, honestly.”

“Hm?”

“He found his soulmate recently, but it’s not exactly… it’s not going as expected, let's just say that. He said he feels almost nothing when he’s with her, and to make things worse, apparently now it’s mutual. God, Donghyuck, they’re so awkward with each other, it physically hurts me.”

Donghyuck is silent again, and you hear the faint clicking of his keyboard. You can almost see his contemplative gaze and the soft blue glow of his computer screen lighting his face. “Did they know each other at all before the marks appeared?”

“Yeah, they were coworkers.”

He hums. “Okay… that could be why. Marks have a tendency to appear if soulmates have been around each other for extended periods of time without realizing it. It’s like nature’s way of telling them that the person they’re looking for is right in front of them. As for why they haven’t felt anything for each other? I dunno… reincarnation can really fuck with people. Any previous sentiments for your soulmate stick with you as you pass on, even if you’re both reborn completely different people.”

I must have really fucked up in a past life to deserve this. Jaemin’s words echo in your head.

“Obviously, there’s still opportunity to fix things,” Donghyuck adds quickly before you can get too lost in your thoughts. “It just takes time. Honestly, I wouldn’t be too concerned”

“I know, I know,” you groan. “I’m just upset that after everything he’s gone through, this is the shit he has to deal with.”

“Yeah. I can’t even imagine.” He pauses. “You know, a lot of people would just run off if they were in the same situation. He’s lucky to have you.”

You give a breathless laugh and shrug. “I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

“You never give yourself enough credit,” Donghyuck says, a hint of melancholy to his voice. There’s a sudden noise in the distance that cuts him off, and he curses beneath his breath. “Shit, the new cat’s not trained yet and I think she’s doing something stupid in the kitchen. Jeno will kill me if anything happens to her.”

You suppress a giggle. “Go ahead. We can catch up some other time.”

“Of course. See you, Y/N.”

The line clicks.

If Donghyuck taught you to be hopeful and Mark taught you to be strong, Jungwoo taught you to be brave.

Kim Jungwoo was your first love, and in many ways, you consider him to be irreplaceable. Perhaps it had simply been the result of young naivety back then, but you thought he was unlike any other person you’d ever met. In hindsight, he was different. A bright light dancing his way into your life when you were only a child in the 30s, a free-spirited boy who went where he pleased despite living under such an oppressive regime.

The Kims lived only a few doors down. You frequently saw the boys in their front yard kicking a beat-up soccer ball back and forth between them. Jungwoo was the middle child, and he sat right in front of you in class, his back always perfectly straight against his wooden chair so as to avoid the teachers’ chastisement. He was a quiet boy, and he never said a word unless it was to answer a question. But even then, his voice was small—not exactly shy or scared, just quiet. He quickly learned to raise his voice when the teacher hit him on the back of the hand with a ruler and demanded he speak up, when the wood scraped apart the skin of his knuckles.

At the time, when Japanese was all too foreign on your tongue and you struggled to understand anything taught in class, you thought he was a genius. He always had the right answers when he was called upon and there wasn’t a trace of an accent in either of his languages. Not that you heard him speak Korean much; you didn’t dare speak it unless you were hidden in your own homes, where your parents could discuss the uprisings without having to worry about the police roaming freely outside. Though, they still spoke in hushed voices as if anyone could hear them, as if terrified for what could happen if someone did hear.

The first time you spoke to Jungwoo properly was in middle school. After a humiliating incident at school that left you in tears, he ran to catch up with you on the way home and spoke to you in timid Korean, offering to help. You were still teary-eyed and beyond upset, but you let him guide you through your homework. He rambled to you about the Japanese grammar you couldn’t understand and explained the mistakes you’d made for your teacher to lash out at you the way she had. It didn’t stop you from making the same mistakes the next day, but at least he was patient, unlike the adults at school.

“You’re not stupid,” he told you one afternoon on the way home. Again, you were in tears.

“But the teachers think I am,” you grunted. “And I feel stupid. I can’t understand a word they say. I never have the right answers. Everything I say is wrong. If that’s not stupidity, I don’t know what it is.”

“Y/N, all we do at school is memorize meaningless facts that don’t really matter,” he replied with a shrug. “Just because you can’t shove all that information into your head doesn’t mean that you’re stupid. Look at Doyoung. He was failing school but he’s still one of the smartest people I know. He just… learns differently.”

“So? That doesn’t make me smart either. They still think—”

Jungwoo scoffed. “Who cares what they think? I think you’re wonderful, and they’re the real freaks. Miss Ito, especially.” He wrinkled his nose. “She smells funny.”

“Hey, be nice, Jungwoo,” you chided, but you were laughing. He was effortlessly funny and it was such a pleasant contrast to the way he acted at school. He was always so disciplined and perfect when the adults were watching, but he seemed to let loose around you. It made you feel… special, in a way. Validated, accepted. Something you never felt at school.

You walked home with him almost everyday from then on. You became inseparable, even when your school shut down and sent all the students to gender-segregated schools, even when your parents worried that you were spending too much of your time with him instead of studying. Even when war arrived.

The Second World War plunged your lives into darkness; Jungwoo quickly became the only light to guide you. He was there for you while your parents were away, while they laboured in the factories making helmets and guns and bullets so that they could at least put food on the table. He was there when the light at the end of the tunnel went dim, though he was miles away from home.

Jungwoo had never struck you as a fighter or rebel, even if he had the physique of a soldier. He had the drive and the courage and the steel to fight, but you only saw gentleness in his monthly letters to you. The last letter you received from him still sits in a drawer somewhere, the last words he wrote sealed in a plastic envelope so that they won’t fade away.

You took the test a few months after the war ended, only because he had pleaded with you to do so. Even if I don’t make it home, he wrote to you in the same curving script he’d used to teach you years ago. Promise me.

When the receptionist gave you a piece of paper with an X marked next to your name—there were no colour indicators back then, only X’s and hollow circles—a part of you felt relief that you couldn’t quite explain. Another part of you was disgusted, convinced that you were being selfish and apathetic. You thought that maybe you had no regard for him; that you only cared for yourself and a stranger you were still searching for. He’d risked his life to join the rebel army, fought on the frontlines with the Allies, and you repaid him with nothing.

It would take you years to come to the conclusion that your reaction was only natural. It would take you years to heal and start seeing other people. In due time, you would stop frequenting the church in your hometown and your fingers would cease to brush against the memorial stone in the yard, upon which his name was carved. Just one name among many.

Jaemin’s hands are all over you: in your hair, around your throat, pushing you against the wall as he kisses you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls on the strands, forcing your head back a bit so he can continue trailing his lips over your neck and collarbones.

“We can’t be doing this,” you tell him when you manage to pull away. His arms come around your waist anyways and he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, and you glance behind him to see empty soju bottles on the kitchen counter.

“I’m not with Jieun,” he snarls. “Besides, like I said. I think we’re fucked. We aren’t meant to be.”

“Don’t say that,” you hiss, taken aback by his sudden coldness. “This isn’t fair to her.”

“It’s mutual, remember? I bet she’s out there doing the exact same thing with some other guy. She doesn’t need me.”

“Jaem—”

“We’re fucked. She told me she doesn’t need me, and I told her the same.”

You’re horrified. “You did what?”

“Hilarious, isn’t it? We had our first fight, and we aren’t even together yet.” He scoffs, pushing a hand through his hair in irritation. “Some type of soulmate.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this. He’s out of his mind. He’s lost it. “Fuck, Jaem, how much did you drink?”

“Not enough to feel better, clearly,” he snaps.

“Alcohol and whatever this is between the two of us isn’t going to make you feel any better. This isn’t going to fix your problems.”

“Then what do you want me to do?!” His words are sharp, his expression hard when he glares at you. “You tell me to move on and to give her a chance and to stop doing whatever—” he motions frantically. You’ve never seen him so wild, so out of control, and you’ve almost never seen him lash out at anyone like this. “—whatever the fuck this is, but do you even know how it feels? Do you even care?”

A sharp intake of breath, and then the world is crashing down around you.

The feelings you fought to suppress re-emerge, rising up to crush you and force you into relapse. Doubt. Regret. Guilt. The little voice in the back of your head is a raging monster now, and it shouts at you, screaming at you in a blind rage. Telling you that you’re heartless and self-absorbed and indifferent, everything you believed you were when Jungwoo died. Reinstating what you know isn’t true. You know he doesn’t mean it. You know that it’s just alcohol fueling the words spewing from his lips and nothing more, but they still bring back unpleasant memories, a sense of dread you can’t shake.

He realizes, albeit a bit too late. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

If you knew how much it hurts me to watch you do this to yourself. If you knew how much it hurts me knowing that there’s only so much I can do for you. “Don’t. I get it.”

For a few seconds, the room is silent, save the ticking of the clock behind you. It reminds you briefly of a memory that you can’t quite grasp, like a flash of deja vu before you spiral back down to the present reality where you stand in cold, frigid silence. The broken smoke detector chirps.

“I should go,” you say at last. You go to grab your keys from where you left them on the counter but he quickly stops you, his hand coming around yours. You look up at him in irritation, pulling away sharply.

“It’s late,” he says shakily, almost pleading. “You shouldn’t walk home at this hour. Not alone.”

“I’ll call a cab,” you shrug before slipping into your sweater and pulling on your shoes. You bid him goodnight and leave him dumbfounded in the living room.

You return home to a sleepless light and endless thoughts in a cold bedroom. A broken record replays his words in your head again and again, until you see Jungwoo’s face floating above you in the darkness. His features are faint, like wisps of smoke that loosely form sad eyes and lips pulled downwards in a frown. And then he’s the one asking, “Do you even care?”

You have no answer for the annoying voice in your head. You stare at the lines of light drifting across the expanse of the ceiling, wide awake as the sky brightens outside.

“How long will you be gone?”

It was the 3rd of August 1995. You knew because the next day would mark 50 years since Jungwoo’s death. The next day, you would be going back to your hometown and laying flowers on the altar in the Kim family home, revisiting the memorial you’d left behind when you moved to Seoul.

You shrugged as Mark passed you his lighter. The old zippo produced a small spark between your fingers, and then the sting of smoke was filling your mouth and nose. You didn’t smoke regularly—you’d stopped years ago—but you sure as hell felt like you needed one tonight.

“I dunno,” you said, taking a long drag from the cigarette. “A couple more days after the ceremony? If I stay any longer, Doyoung might get upset.“

“Upset?”

“He doesn’t like seeing me. Said I bring back bad memories. I think I remind him of Jungwoo too much.”

Mark grimaced. “Well it’s scary, seeing a childhood friend who hasn’t aged in fifty something years… Must he like seeing a ghost.” He paused, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear so that he could see your face. “My nephews feel the same way about me.”

“You remind them of something?” You asked.

“Their father, I guess,” he explained. “My brother… wasn’t the most understanding of them when they were younger. Whenever they see me, all they can think of is their childhood and his abusiveness.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

He took a moment of contemplative silence “No, not really. I mean, maybe it did at first. But it’s not like I go out of my way to avoid them just because of the memories they associate with me. That would be unfair for me.”

“It would be,” you agreed.

“So then why avoid Doyoung? What he thinks of you is beyond your control. If you remind him of painful memories, that isn’t exactly your fault.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I just feel like staying out of his way might help him heal. Maybe it’ll help him move on from everything he’s trying to forget.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Mark took your hand with a breathless laugh. His smile was both sad and endearing, as if he were in awe of you—what for, you weren’t too sure until he murmured, “You’re too kind sometimes.” He paused to exhale, smoke escaping his lips and bleeding into the atmosphere, dispersing into the starry sky. He stared into the sky for a few moments, silent.

“But it’s not always up to you to heal their wounds. At some point, they have to learn to heal themselves.”

“What the hell happened to him?”

Jaemin looks like a mess. His hair is disheveled and swept messily all over the place. His skin is unhealthily pale, unusually warm to the touch beneath your fingertips. You can tell he’s had a little too much to drink; he sits on the couch in a daze, his eyes fixated on an invisible point in front of him as if searching for something that is no longer there. He yelps in pain when you wipe at the cut on his lip.

“We bumped into a couple guys at the bar. One of them took a swing at him,” Renjun explains as he passes you the bottle of disinfectant. You carefully apply a drop to a cotton swab. “And it didn’t help that he was also drunk. Thank god Lucas was there to break up the fight.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Jaemin groans in protest. “Just tipsy.”

“Tipsy? You couldn’t even tell me Y/N’s number.”

“I don’t remember anyone’s number.”

“Well, you couldn’t tell me your own name either. Got any excuse for that one, smartass?”

You ignore their bickering and continue cleaning the cut on Jaemin’s cheek, holding him firmly by the shoulder so he doesn’t move. The cotton quickly turns light pink between your fingers. You briefly examine the red marks along his jaw where he’d been hit, frowning. Jaemin has never been one to get into fights and especially not while under the influence, but the bruises on his cheek and his knuckles suggest otherwise. Hell, he rarely even gets drunk, but it’s becoming more and more frequent, to the point where Renjun makes sure to watch over him whenever they go out together. He’s derailing, you think to yourself as you brush his hair into some sort of order.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” You put his arm around your shoulder and help him up to his feet, nearly staggering beneath his weight. Renjun rushes over to help you move him into the bedroom.

“You should probably go home. It’s getting late,” you tell him when Jaemin has been settled in bed. You glance at the clock hanging in the kitchen as you clean up the first aid kit on the table: almost 2 AM. “I’ll stay with him… make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“I really tried to keep him away from the alcohol tonight. I swear I turned away for only a second to deal with Yangyang and he— Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Renjun apologizes again, shaking his head. “This whole soulmate ordeal is really getting to him. I’m worried, Y/N.”

“You know how he is. He always figures it out one way or another” you reassure him. “I’ll talk to him again though. Maybe he’ll actually… listen this time.”

“Well, call me if anything happens. I probably won’t be asleep anyways.”

“I will. Thanks, Jun,” you nod appreciatively.

By the time Renjun has gone home and you’ve finished cleaning up, Jaemin is already asleep. He stirs when you switch off the lamp and reaches out for you in the darkness, fingers intertwining with yours. “Stay,” he mumbles, pulling you a bit closer.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You say as you admire the way the moonlight filters in through the windows and draws pale lines across his cheeks. Despite the cuts marking his skin, he looks so much softer now, innocent, in a way. Again, you’re reminded of the Jaemin you met at the art gallery. He was none of this. None of this pent-up frustration released in empty beer bottles, none of these crimson bruises marking his otherwise smooth skin.

“You have to stop doing this to yourself,” you murmur. There’s no reply at first, and you wonder if he heard you at all.

“I’m sorry,” you finally hear his voice: small, feeble in the darkness. His words become more urgent as he keeps speaking, spilling from his lips uncontrollably. “I shouldn’t have said those things about you. I wasn’t thinking. You know I could never mean it.”

You hush him, wrapping him in the security of your arms. A single tear brushes against the back of your hand, then another. “It’s alright,” you assure him as you rub soothing circles against his back. “You were going through a lot. I understand, okay? It’s okay.”

He shakes his head frantically, his tears falling in steady streams now. You let out a low hiss when you see them stain pink with the blood from the wound on his cheek. “Still, that shouldn’t be an excuse. I’ve managed to fuck up everything since all of this started. I hurt Jieun, I hurt Renjun, I hurt you. I can’t even go to work and look at Jieun without feeling like such an idiot and getting mad at myself for being such a child. Without feeling like maybe I deserve this.”

Your heart drops, then shatters into a million pieces at the bottom of a dark abyss.

“Look at me,” you plead as you take his face in your hands. “Look at me, Jaem, please.” He finally lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours in the stillness. All you can see is brokenness, defeat and regret, a look you knew well. It’s an expression that once followed you around for years, appearing in every mirror and reflection you passed by. An innate, intimate part of you that you despised so much until you came to accept it. “Listen to me, Na Jaemin. You are one of the strongest, bravest and kindest people I’ve ever met, and nothing will ever change the way I see you. You don’t deserve any of this bullshit. You don’t deserve this.”

“If you knew what I told her, Y/N,” he lets out a shaky breath. “If you knew what we told each other when we found out neither of us had any feelings for each other… maybe you would think differently of me.”

“If that’s truly what you believe, fix what you broke,” you say firmly. “Apologize to her. Make things right between the two of you, unless you want to go through this all over again in another life. Things will only get worse if you don’t address them now.”

“And if I can’t?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you, Jaem.” Trembling, you press your lips to his temple. “Whether or not you end up with her, whether or not you think you deserve this, I love you. And that will never fucking change.”

He leans forwards, his forehead touching yours, his nose brushing against yours and his lips just inches from meeting yours. But he never comes any closer, and you feel no urge to close the distance either. Perhaps it’s a sign that both of you are already starting to let go, to drift apart; this moment is nothing romantic or lustful, nothing more than comforting each other in your brokenness. Nothing more than trying to help each other numb the pain.

“I love you.” His voice trembles, but his words are steady, deep-rooted in sureness.

“Then promise me you’ll try, Jaem. You’ll try to set things right, for both our sake.”

“For you, love,” he murmurs, so quietly that you can barely hear him. His voice is lost to the faint rumbling of the air conditioning unit somewhere outside and the distant noises of traffic. “For you, I would do anything.”

You wonder if he’ll remember any of this in the morning. You wonder if he’ll take your words to heart, or if they’ll simply be enveloped in dreams fueled by drunkenness, reduced by sleep to nothing but a blur.

...it’s not always up to you to heal their wounds. At some point, they have to learn to heal themselves

You’ve done everything you can for him, you decide. Even if you continue to walk by his side, the rest is up to him.

One Saturday morning, Jaemin shows up at your door dressed in black jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair swept up neatly. There’s a kind of brightness to him; it’s not necessarily hope or excitement, but certainly a change from what you’ve seen the last couple of weeks. He’s meeting Jieun for lunch, he tells you nervously. He wants to see you before he goes. You tell him you’re proud of him. That genuinely, you admire him.

The next time you see him, it’s at a floral shop. He’s in the middle of picking out flowers, and he flushes when he sees you. A single rose seemed too cliche, he tells you sheepishly, and asks your opinion. He thinks she’ll prefer something a bit more unique but equally tasteful, equally elegant. You recommend orchids or gerberas. They last longer than roses, but they convey the same message. When he’s gone, you buy a small vase of irises for your apartment; your living room needs a bit of colour.

Weeks later, you find a small package in the mail: a parting gift, you realize when you tear open the padded envelope. It’s nothing too special, nothing fancy or expensive—just a piece of blue glass wrapped in silver accents, attached to a delicate chain that you loop around your neck. When you hold the pendant up to the sun, its blue tint shatters into infinite colours, tossing specks of luminous yellow and orange all over your bedroom. More than just a singular colour, it reflects the other hues around you. And for just a brief moment, you think you see your own reflection.

You watched Jaemin move on just as you’d watched Mark and Donghyuck: from afar, with reserve but at the same time, excitement. Close enough for him to know that you were still there for him, but allowing some sort of distance that grew as the days melded into weeks and then months.

For the most part, he seemed to be alright. His texts were always cheerful, covered in happy emoticons—he used them when he was too giddy with excitement to type actual words. “We figured things out,” was all he said one night, and it was all you needed to hear to know that they’d be okay.

You started to notice the fondness he’d developed for her; it was subtle at first, just a hint of affection in his voice when he told you about her over the phone. Though slowly, it developed into something more. It was just as Donghyuck said: time had forged a relationship out of nothing, out of empty words and empty emotions, growing a garden from a barren piece of wasteland.

The first time you spoke to Kim Jieun, it was over the phone during one of your calls with Jaemin. She’d chimed in on your conversation at some point to say hi, and the way she spoke almost reminded you of Donghyuck: bright, cheery, a little sarcastic in a playful manner. You quickly learned that she was easy-going though brutally honest at times, well-mannered yet well-humoured. Most importantly, she wasn’t judgemental, and she didn’t treat you any differently from Jaemin’s other friends just because you’d been with him previously.

Of course, there was still a sense of yearning, a bittersweetness whenever you saw the two of them together. Your fingers always danced fleetingly along the screen of your phone before pressing like on the photos he posted to his social media. You saw him less and less, only occasionally running into him at the bakery you used to frequent together or at a friend gathering. For the most part, you let the past stay in the past. He seemed happy. And honestly, you were happy for him.

“I told you he’d be fine,” Donghyuck murmured to you at one of Jeno’s rampant parties, once most of the guests had trickled out for the night. The two of you sat on the balcony, watching everyone stumble around in their drunken stupor: Jeno was passed out on the couch with two cats sitting perched on his chest. Renjun was trying to braid flowers into Jaemin’s hair, which he’d recently bleached yet another shade lighter to match Jieun’s platinum locks. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Chenle and Jisung exchange a few bills and bicker over a bet—Chenle was still in denial that Jisung had won, apparently.

“I didn’t doubt you for a second, Hyuck.”

“But you were worried,” he grinned smugly.

“Why wouldn’t I be worried?” You sighed and knocked back the rest of your wine before motioning for him to pass you the bottle. You swiftly poured yourself another glass. “If I couldn’t have my happy ending, at least I wanted him to have his. As… cliche as that sounds.”

Donghyuck raised a brow at you. “What’s to say that you won’t get yours too? They can’t keep you waiting forever. The longest it ever took for someone to find their soulmate was 241 years.”

“Goddamn, are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”

“Better, of course! Okay, what I’m trying to say is that it’s rare for anyone to wait longer than two centuries. If everyone lived for up to three hundred years, we’d have a lot of dictators and other crazies running the world. The universe would spontaneously combust.”

“I know I’m barely even halfway there, but come back to me when I set a new world record,” you rolled your eyes, to which he responded with a small chuckle.

“So what now?” He glanced at Jaemin, who sat across the room with his eyes half-closed, an empty red solo cup in his hands. Jieun had her head on his shoulder, rambling drunkenly about something to Renjun. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought she’d been a part of the group all along; she fit in so seamlessly, and it warmed your heart to see her getting along with everyone.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Nothing for now, I guess. Just waiting.”

“Whoever it is, I’m sure they’ll be worth it,” he hummed in reply.

“You think so?”

“People say that the longer you wait, the better. It’s all in your head, of course, but they have a point.”

You sighed, lifting your head to gaze at the stars hanging overhead. “I suppose they do. Maybe someday I get to find out.”

He patted you on the shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll figure it out. You always have.”

Donghyuck left a little later to get a drunk Jeno to bed, and then you had only the quietness of night to keep you company. Your mind drifted and you contemplated his words, repeating them silently to the wind. The night sky replied with nothing but a gentle breeze against your skin.

You could be patient, you thought as you watched the others inside. You fished the pendant out from beneath your shirt and stared at the reflection in the glass. It was as if you were grasping a piece of the night sky between your fingers: the stars and a crescent moon captured in a single, translucent oval. In the dark, the pendant appeared deep indigo, not too different in hue from the four coloured markings you’d acquired over the years.

But the sun would rise in due time, you thought to yourself mirthfully. Beneath the brightness of morning, you’d hold a different colour in your hands. You tucked the necklace back into the fabric of your shirt. You could wait.

read the epilogue, yellow

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin fanfic #nct angst #nct fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #the longest shit ive ever written hoLY SHIT #cznnet

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allforyoumylovely · 3 years

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Hi hi! I love ur writing so much as u know already but if you’re looking for a prompt maybe something where they’re standing in front of the mirror and Sander is clasping Robbe’s necklace for him while they’re getting ready for some event 🥰🥰💕

hii tasfia! sorry for taking over three months to answer this ajshdfg but i actually included your lovely prompt in hot boy autumn. hope you don't mind <333

here's a lil' snippet, the whole fic will be out later tonight 🥰

Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, shirtless and with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Sander watches the razor blade glide through the silky lather of shaving foam on Robbe’s face.

Robbe catches his eye in the mirror and cocks an eyebrow, rinsing the razor between strokes. “Can I help you?”

“I’m good,” Sander smirks, casually bending an ankle in front of the other.

Shaking his head, Robbe leans closer to the mirror and carefully manoeuvres the blade over his chin. Wrists work delicately. Back muscles stir under creamy skin. A few water droplets sit on bony shoulders. And Sander is enchanted.

In one fluid motion, he pushes off the doorframe, steps up behind Robbe, and gently presses a line of slow kisses from one bare shoulder to the other. Robbe’s necklace isn’t there and to Sander it’s almost like a piece of him is missing. It lies on the counter where Robbe put it before his shower.

“I’m concentrating,” Robbe half-heartedly scolds. “Don’t distract me.”

Sander trails a fingertip down his spine, grazes the hem of the towel around his waist and moves back up. “Don’t mind me.”

“Easier said than done,” Robbe murmurs under his breath.

He draws constellations and entire continents right there between Robbe’s shoulder blades, smoothing his palm over his skin like a child in between sketches, pretending to erase the lines. Robbe glances at him and smiles, leaning over the sink to wash his face. He pads it dry with a towel and applies his aftershave with experienced hands - a whole little routine, second nature to him by now. And, god, it’s embarrassing how much it affects Sander. Nuzzling into the curve where neck meets shoulder, he breathes in his warm vanilla scent.

“Look at you,” he smirks. “Making yourself all hot for my mama.”

“Sander,” Robbe half sighs, half laughs. “It’s her birthday and she’s invited us for dinner, I have to look decent.”

“’Decent’ is the understatement of the year,” Sander mumbles against the hinge of his jaw and sucks his earlobe between his lips, the earring cold on his tongue. Robbe softens a bit, squirming when Sander impishly nibbles up the shell of his ear. The colour of his eyes melts, and Sander could lose himself forever in that dark velvety brown.

Nine times out of ten Robbe is completely relaxed and comfortable around Sander’s parents, talking and joking and laughing as if he’s known them since he took his first steps. But every now and then he has those moments where a wave of nerves crashes through his body, and he’ll carry an odd shyness around with him. Sander senses this is one of those times.

“They love you,” he reminds him. “Like me.” He pauses and Robbe smiles at him wryly. “Well, not exactly like me, but you know what I mean.”

Running a hand through his messy hair, Robbe says, “What should I wear?”

Sander brushes his pelvis against him. “Something easy to take off.”

“Wow, your hormones are really working overtime today, huh?”

“Robin, how do you expect me to act when you look like this?” Sander says, gesturing at him.

“Like what?” Robbe smirks.

“Just so...“ Sander lightly shakes his head, searching for the right words, his brain malfunctioning. “So eatable,” is what he lands on, and Robbe releases an amused snort.

The light above the mirror illuminates the streaks of tousled sunshine in Robbe’s curls. “Here,” he says, picking up the necklace and offering it to Sander over his shoulder. The chain dangles daintily from his fingers, waiting to be hung where it belongs. “Make yourself useful.”

#tasfia 💫#hot boy autumn 🍂

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alicanta77 · 4 years

Text

Pairing: y/n x Jeno

Themes: angst, fluff

Warnings: death, injury, survivors guilt and a whole bucket of angst - really prepare yourself

Words: 11.5k

Synopsis: Jeno thought he had life pretty much figured out. He had amazing friends, a very supportive family, the career he had always dreamed of and fans who loved him from all over the world. It looked as if there was nothing more he could want. But something was missing from his life and Jeno couldn’t figure out what it was. Then, one morning while he was on a run, he spotted you. And suddenly Jeno found his life had a whole new meaning to it. The two of you fell in love harder and deeper than anyone had thought possible, and it seemed like, finally, the final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. But life isn’t always a smooth ride, and sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to. And Jeno finds himself learning and experiencing things he never wished he’d ever have to.

This story is part of the ‘Sometimes Letting Go’ collaboration organised by the absolutely brilliant @rvse-hvvck <333

tag list: @xysabellex @aconeptun @jeongyoonohs @pewpewpwe00 @lebrookestore @moon-jun

——————————————————————————

Sometimes letting go, hurts less than holding on

——————————————————————————

Jeno still remembers the first day he met you. He was in the park, having decided to go for a run on the morning of his day off, wanting to feel the fresh air after being cooped up in the practice room for the past two weeks. He was trying to find the motivation to move faster than a sluggish walk, his muscles arguing with his mind, when he looked up and saw you. You were leaning over the river, watching as the water passed by underneath you and Jeno couldn’t help but stare. He pulled his headphones out of his ears and just observed the beautiful girl he saw before him.

He watched as you looked up and he quickly tried to look away, in an attempt to act as though he wasn’t just creepily watching a stranger in the park. You let out a giggle and Jeno thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

‘Can I help you?’ You asked, a kind smile on your face.

‘Hi, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I just...’ Jeno wracked his brain trying to think of a way to explain himself before giving up and deciding to just go with the truth. ‘You’re really beautiful.’

You didn’t react for a second, making panic run through every vein in Jeno’s body. But that soon relaxed when a smile made its way on your face and you let out a little embarrassed laugh. He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh himself at his blunder, relieved that you hadn’t run away from him already.

‘You’re not that bad yourself.’ You replied, the nervousness you were clearly feeling obvious in your face and words. ‘I’m y/n.’

‘Jeno.’ He introduced himself.

And that was where it all began.

---

It didn’t take long for Jeno to become completely infatuated with you. You had the kind of energy that just drew people to you. Everywhere you went, you radiated a kindness that grabbed people’s attention. And before he knew it, before he could stop it, Jeno was smitten.

Jeno learnt pretty quickly that you kept your circle small, choosing the few people you trusted to be close to you, to know the real you. And Jeno wanted nothing more than to be one of those people.

The two of you made it a tradition to go to that same park, once a week, you would go into the nearby coffee shop, grab some food and head out to the river. Jeno kept this to himself, but your trips together quickly became his favourite part of the week.

He never really found time to relax, always being busy with rehearsing or writing lyrics or staying in shape, and he’d always thought he didn’t have the time to form a relationship of any kind with someone. But somehow, no matter how busy he was, Jeno found himself able to make time for you.

It was at that same park that Jeno asked you out for the first time. He had just bought your favourite order from the coffee shop, and was ready and waiting for you when you arrived. You came jogging up to him, slightly out of breath and with a slightly red nose from the cooling autumn air.

‘Sorry!’ You breathed, pausing for a second to calm yourself. ‘I was really late leaving the house and then I got stuck in traffic so I ran as soon as I could.’

‘You didn’t have to do that.’ Jeno chuckled, handing you your coffee and pastry. ‘I don’t mind waiting for you.’

You took the order out of his hand, smiling up at him in gratitude.

‘Thank you for ordering for me, I’ll get the next one. And yes I did, I didn’t want to leave you waiting. Plus it’s hard to find time together so I want to make the most of it when we have it.’

The two of you began to walk, staying close to the riverside as you headed towards the sheltered spot you always went. It was hidden slightly in the trees so that Jeno could take off his mask without worrying about who would see him.

It had become almost a kind of safe haven for Jeno, a place where he could be himself and not have to worry about what anybody thought. He had always felt comfortable being his true self around you, you had always encouraged him to drop the image he had to wear any time there was a camera around him, and he appreciated that more than he let you know.

Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off you as the two of you walked. There was a small light in your eyes as you talked about your recent piece of work that you were avoiding, laughing at yourself and claiming how much you knew you were going to regret it but that was a problem for you in the future.

Jeno laughed along with you, so taken in by the melodious sound that escaped your lips that he almost walked past your usual spot. You reached out to grab his hand, stopping him in his tracks as he stared down at your intertwined hands. You nodded your head down to the ground, gesturing that you were here and silently pulled him down to sit next to you.

Jeno couldn’t quite get over how perfectly your hand fit in his, the way your fingers curled tightly around his made him never want to let go. And it was in this moment that he realised, this wasn’t just infatuation.

He wasn’t sure what it was. He didn’t think it was love just yet, but it was definitely something more than just a crush. Whatever it was, Jeno wanted more of it.

He tore his eyes away from your hands to look at your face, only to be greeted with your gaze already on him. Your eyes were fixated on his and your lips were slightly parted, with small breaths escaping them.

God you were beautiful.

‘Can I kiss you?’ Jeno whispered, and it took about a millisecond before he started mentally cursing himself in every language that he knew. He almost wished Jaemin were here so that he could slap him on head.

Jeno was about to take it back, to apologise and make up something about being so worn out recently that he wasn’t sure what he was saying, until he heard your reply.

‘Yes.’

Your voice was soft, almost inaudible, but your words were louder than a scream to Jeno. It took him a minute to actually register that you had agreed, but when it finally sunk in he refused to waste any time.

He leant in, delicately cupping your face with his hands and closed the gap between the two of you. His lips pressed gently to yours and you leaned further into him. He pulled away soon, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable and opened his eyes to look at you.

He moved his hands from your face as he took in your expression. Your eyes opened slowly, immediately finding his and conveying all that they needed to say.

You reached up with your hands, this time placing them on his face and pulled him in again, kissing him with more passion. Jeno’s arms wound around your waist, pulling your body closer to him as he kissed you back.

The two of you seemed to move closer together and each second passed, wanting nothing more than to leave no space between the two of you. Eventually you pulled away, the need to breathe breaking the perfect kiss.

However, you didn’t move away from him, instead staying close enough that Jeno could rest his forehead on yours. He kept his eyes shut, imprinting this moment into his memory so that he would never forget it.

‘Be mine?’ He asked breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to officially be able to call you his, and kiss you like that whenever he wanted.

You didn’t reply, making a stream of panic flood Jeno’s system as he began to worry that he had spoken too soon or moved too quickly. But then, you spoke the one word that made his heart soar.

‘Always.’

---

Jeno laying facing you, one hand gently stroking the hair out of your face as you lay on the other. He looked into your eyes, memorising the swirl of colours that always enchanted him. You were staring back at him, the only noise in the room being your soft breaths.

Jeno had come to love nights like these. Before, he would just head back to the dorms, play games for a couple of hours and then sleep. But recently, he’d been finding it difficult to relax if he didn’t have you by his side. You had some kind of power over him, Jeno just found himself relaxing under your touch.

This wasn’t the first time you were spending the night, you had come over for dinner to meet the boys a while back, and a sudden storm had broken out, preventing you from getting home so Jeno had offered for you to stay the night. The boys had all loved you, so none of them minded, Jaemin even going as far as to bribe you with a cooked breakfast the next morning. The two of you had fallen asleep on his bed together, you begging him not to sleep on the floor. Ever since that night, he’d secretly been needing you in order to fall asleep.

The last time Jeno had checked his phone, the time had been 00:36, and that had been a while ago. He watched as your eyes began to flutter shut slightly, but you forced them open.

‘Can you get me talking on something?’ You whispered. ‘I don’t want to fall asleep just yet.’

‘Do you think a person can give you infinity?’ Jeno mumbled out, just saying the first thing that came to his mind.

You were quiet for a second, thinking about your answer before replying.

‘Yeah, I think so. When you’re lucky enough to find someone who you love, and who loves you like that, I think it is an infinity.’

‘But things always end? One way or another, you know, you break up, someone moves on, or even if you stay together all your lives one of you will eventually die, leaving the other alone. And it will end.’ Jeno replied, frowning as he tried to understand your point of view.

‘I don’t think anything ever really ends, not a story, not a relationship, not a life. You always see traces of it anywhere you look. Things live on, not in or as themselves, but in other people, in the lives of others that they touched, that they had an impact on.’ You explained your point, your voice still at a low volume, as if you would destroy the atmosphere if you spoke too loud. ‘People carry parts of them with them as they lead their lives, and eventually, pass it on to others they know. Nothing ever really ends because it lives on in everything else.’

Jeno paused, thinking over what you said and found himself nodding.

‘That makes sense.’ He admitted to you, watching as you smiled at that.

‘What do you see in your future?’ You asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Jeno raised an eyebrow, smirking teasingly at you.

‘What do you see in yours?’

You looked up at him, debating whether you should tell him or force him to speak first. After a short internal battle, you ended up swallowing your pride and being the one to talk.

‘If I’m honest, I want the career, I want to travel and I want to be able to make friends and make mistakes and be stupid, but at the end of the day, when I look further than five to ten years, the one thing I really want is a family. I don’t see massive parties, or constant travelling, I want to have Sunday mornings breakfasts with everyone around the table, I want to push my kids on the swings in the playground, I want to bring them to their grandparents for the day and I want to help with homework. I want a family, and the domestic life that comes with them.’

While you were saying this, the smirk on Jeno’s face had morphed into a smile of pure love. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you into his chest as he let out a sigh, dropping his head onto yours and placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘That sounds amazing.’ He whispered. ‘As long as I don’t have to help with Maths.’

He heard you giggle into his chest, your body moving slightly with laughter at his words.

‘Deal. I’ll help with Maths, but that means you have to do science.’ You bargained, and Jeno nodded, leaning in to give you a kiss.

And he didn’t tell you this then, but he hoped with every fibre of his being that he was in that picture.

---

Jeno hit the final pose, staring into the mirror as he breathed heavily. The other six boys around him were in similar positions, all trying to catch their breath after their run through of the dance. They had been in the practice room for over seven hours now, they were tired, hungry, their muscles ached and they just wanted to go home.

The choreographer called for a fifteen minute break, telling them to get a drink of water and then they would run it through one final time. The boys nodded, waiting until he had left the room before they all collapsed onto the floor, the exhaustion of the day catching up to them.

The seven of them lay there, all in an ungraceful heap when the door creaked open again. Jisung sat up in a rush, thinking it was the choreographer, but immediately falling down again when he saw who it was. The confused Jeno, and he was about to sit up and have a look when your laugh echoed throughout the room.

‘I take it you guys are tired.’ You teased, walking through the mess of bodies to greet their manager who was sitting on their phone in the corner.

You didn’t get much more than a few groans in greeting, making you sigh and hold up the bag you had brought with you.

‘I brought food for you guys!’ You announced, unable to stop yourself from laughing at the sudden energy burst in the room.

The boys began to sit up, and you quickly moved into the middle of them, placing the bag down and sitting yourself next to Jeno.

‘What about the choreographer?’ Renjun asked no one in particular.

‘They won’t be back for another ten minutes, just have a snack and drink and, you can stay to eat the rest after we finish.’ Their manager replied from their spot in the corner of the room before turning their attention back to their phone.

The boys all grinned at each other letting out excited shouts as they looked through the food you brought. They all grabbed a snack each, wasting no time in digging in to refuel.

‘So, what flavour have you got this time?’ Jaemin asked, noticing the cup in your hand that bared the logo of your favourite frozen yoghurt shop.

‘It’s called “Tropical Breeze” apparently and I have no idea what’s in it.’ You informed him, mumbling the last part slightly as you looked at the cold treat you were holding. It was a mixture of orange, yellow and red swirls, with a few white spots here and there. ‘It’s nice though.’

Jaemin let out a chuckle as Chenle spoke up.

‘Do you think this will be the one you get twice then?’

You simply grinned at him, humming thoughtfully before shaking your head in reply.

Jeno laughed at that, accepting the energy drink you held out to him. He took a few gulps, thankful beyond belief that you had thought to refrigerate them before bringing them here. He could feel the liquid cooling him down as he flopped his body down on top of your legs, curing up into you.

You instinctively brought your hand down to his hair, running your fingers through it as he gently hummed happily. For once, the boys seemed to decide to leave the two of you in peace, rather than tease you within an inch of your lives.

‘You tired baby?’ You asked, feeling Jeno nod in response. ‘You’re almost there, the day’s almost over.’

Jeno smiled at that, the simplest words, even ones that he’d told himself multiple times that day had so much more power coming from you. Your comforting whispers, accompanied by the hand you were running through his hair all allowed him to finally catch his breath.

Just at the moment he sat up, the choreographer strutted back in, calling for the boys to stand and run it through one final time. He tore himself away from you, making his way to his starting position as you moved the food out of the way before setting down by the side of the practice room.

Jeno wasn’t sure how you had managed to befriend the choreographer but he was thankful you did, because it meant that you were allowed to sit in the corner and watch their practices sometimes.

Jeno looked over at you as the music began and you sent him a reassuring nod as he began to dance, suddenly finding himself a lot more energised than before.

---

You knocked lightly on Jeno’s door, keeping it quiet just in case he was asleep. You couldn’t see any light coming from the crack under the door, but Jaemin had assured you that he was still awake. You’d gotten a call from Jaemin, asking you if there was any way you could come around tonight. Apparently, the choreography teacher hadn’t been in the nicest mood today, leaving Jeno to be on the receiving end of his temper tantrum. That, accompanied with a diet and the pressure the boys were under to make this show great, were not adding up to a good day.

You knocked again, this time hearing a small mumble from the inside that vaguely resembled the words ‘come in’. You took that as a sign and pushed open the door slightly to peak inside.

The room was dark, the curtains pulled shut in order to block out any light left in the day, and the bedside light was also switched off. Jeno was a lump underneath his duvet, the cover pulled right up to his face so that you could hardly see him.

You approached him quietly, gently sighing when you saw the state he was in. You sat next to him, softly stroking some hair out of his face and leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead.

Jeno sniffed quietly, clearly not wanting you to see him so upset, but you didn’t want to leave him alone right now. You kept running your fingers through his hair, whispering comforting words over and over.

‘It’s okay, you just need sleep and then you’ll be in tomorrow. Tomorrow’s a new day and you can start fresh then. It’s gonna be alright, I promise you.’

Jeno shut his eyes, nodding along to what you were saying, trying to make himself believe it.

‘Do you want me to massage your muscles?’

Jeno opened his eyes at your offer, sending you a sad smile and shaking his head. He instead lifted an arm, opening his duvet to you.

‘Could you just come here?’ He whispered pleadingly to you, wanting nothing more than to just hug you as close to him as he possibly could for the remainder of the night.

You smiled at him lovingly, immediately placing your phone on his bedside table before lying down next to him. You curled up into his warmth, snaking an arm around his waist to give him a comforting squeeze. You felt his grip around you get gradually tighter and tighter, and you nuzzled your head further into his chest, feeling his relax slightly as you did so.

‘I’m going to be here.’ You whispered. ‘When you go to sleep I’ll be here and I’ll still be here when you wake up, I promise.’

Jeno nodded at that, leaning down to kiss your forehead, before shutting his eyes. You leant up to place a kiss wherever you could reach, eventually settling for the bottom of his neck. He smiled slightly, prompting you to do it again.

‘Tickles.’ He muttered, unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping him when you did it a third time. ‘Stop.’

You giggled to yourself, glad that he was smiling before sleeping and relaxing back into his embrace. After a short while, the two of you finally fell asleep, both your hearts as intertwined as your bodies were.

You fell asleep first, missing the sentence that Jeno whispered into your hair as he let sleep take him.

‘I love you so much.’

---

Jeno lay on the grass in the park where the two of you first met. He came here quite often, sometimes with you, sometimes alone. But he always came to just remember the day he met you, the day his life changed for the better. Jeno didn’t know where he would be or how he would be living if he hadn’t had the courage to walk up to you that day on the bridge.

He heard footsteps approaching from behind him, and turned to look at you as you lay down in the grass next to him. Your head gently hit the ground, and the two of you turned to face each other, gently smiling in greeting before turning your eyes back to the sky.

As always, the two of you waited before saying anything, just letting the tranquility of the night relax you before speaking.

‘Three stars in a row, completely straight, do you see them?’ You asked, pointing them out as best you could. Jeno nodded, allowing you to continue. ‘That’s Orion’s belt. According to Greek mythology, Orion was a hunter, and a good one at that. However, he was also very proud, he even boasted that he would kill every beast of the earth, and that he was a better hunter than Artemis. This angered Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt, so much so that, to teach him a lesson, she sent a scorpion after him. There was a huge battle between the two, ending in the scorpion fatally stinging Orion. Zeus placed both Orion and the scorpion in the sky, however, on opposite sides of the earth. This is so that their feud will remain in the past, and that is why you will never see Orion and the Scorpion in the sky at the same time.’

Jeno didn’t reply, just simply smiled at the constellation, finding it difficult to take his eyes off it now that you had explained the story.

‘There’s multiple versions to it. One includes Gaia, who is the protector of all animals, and one-’

‘I like it.’ Jeno interrupted your ramblings. ‘Most of these myths have many versions, just tell me your favourites.’ He reached out, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

The two of you continued to lie there in silence. It had become tradition for you to bring a new constellation to your conversation every time you met, and you had decided to find the mythology behind it and bring that too. At first you were worried that you had been annoying him about it, that was until Renjun and Jisung let it slip that he was going back to the dorms and relaying the stories to the boys at every chance he got.

‘You know, I don’t think I’d change anything.’ Jeno spoke, breaking the silence. ‘We always speak about what we would change in our lives, or what we hope to change in the future, but, for the first time, I don’t think I’d change anything.’

‘Really? Not even my habit of taking long showers?’ You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him teasingly.

‘Stop it! I’m being serious.’ He whined, nudging you with his elbow. ‘I really don’t think there’s anything major that I would change. I really like things the way they are, and I hope they stay like this.’

You smiled up at the sky at his words, thinking about your own life and whether there was anything you would change.

‘I’d speak to my mum more.’ You admitted. ‘I miss her, a lot, yet every time I have the chance to speak to her, I chicken out. I don’t know if I’m nervous as to what she’s going to ask, or just convincing myself that it’s going to be a drastically long conversation, but... I want to speak to her more.’

‘Why don’t you go for a walk with her instead? That way you can stop at a cafe for a coffee and actually have a conversation.’ Jeno suggested. ‘You have a free morning next week.’

‘I’ll call her tomorrow, and set the date.’

You nodded towards the sky, sealing the promise. It always went like this. One of you would begin to talk, confess something that they wish they were doing differently, and the other would offer solutions. The only catch was, you had to try their suggestion.

‘Did you know that, due to the amount of light years it takes for the light of the stars to reach us, most of the stars that we’re seeing have already burnt out?’ Jeno changed the subject,

‘The sky’s like a graveyard.’

‘A graveyard of stars.’ You mumbled, not noticing the way Jeno turned his head to smile at you. ‘I think stars are brave, because they shine so brightly when everything around them is dark.’

You turned to look at Jeno, finding him already looking at you, trying to stop his smile from growing.

‘What?’ You complained and he looked back at the sky, letting a laugh escape him.

‘Nothing.’ He grinned. ‘You’re just cute.’

You smiled at him, rolling over so that you landed on his chest, his arm that was previously resting under his head coming down to hold your shoulder.

‘I think I’d like to be buried in the sky.’ You rambled, not thinking too much as to what you were saying. Jeno hummed to let you know he was listening as you continued. ‘Just to be up there, lighting the night sky... it would be nice to do that for eternity.’

‘You light up my sky.’ Jeno whispered into your hair, pulling you as close as he could as the two of you watched the night pass you by, closer to the stars than the two of you would ever know.

---

You laughed at what Jaemin said as your head came down to rest on Jeno’s shoulder. He noticed this and tilted his to place a soft peck on your forehead. You had been at the dorms pretty much all day, Jeno having called you as soon as he heard that their dance practice had been pushed back until tomorrow.

You had all just finished dinner and were currently sitting around the table idly chatting. Jeno’s arm came around your waist, pulling you even closer as you leaned into him. You sneaked a quick look at your watch, sighing when you realised what time it was.

‘I should probably go.’ You announced dejectedly, attempting to stand but Jeno immediately tightened his grip around you whining slightly into your shoulder.

‘Stay.’ He begged, drawing out the word.

‘I really wish I could, but you have practice early tomorrow and you need rest. Plus I have stuff to finish so I need a good night’s sleep too.’ You replied, still trying to crawl out of your boyfriend’s grip. ‘Jeno let go! You’re holding me like you’ll never see me again.’ You laughed, as the other three boys watched you struggle, making no attempt to help you whatsoever.

‘Fine.’ Jeno grumbled, loosening his grip around your waist.

You finally stood, grabbing your phone and making sure you had your car keys before turning back to Jeno who was sitting at the table pouting at you.

‘Nope, not gonna work.’ You stated, thankful that the lengthy time the two of you had been together had made you almost immune to his puppy dog eyes.

Renjun, Jaemin and Jisung took the moment to say a few quick goodbyes, and Jeno walked with you to the door.

‘Are you sure you can’t stay?’ He whispered, leaning down to give you a deep kiss.

‘You really had to go and make it even harder for me to leave, didn’t you?’ You murmured against his lips, as he nodded in reply.

You summoned every once of self control that you had and pulled back, ignoring the huff that escaped Jeno as you did. You reached up to stroke his cheek slightly.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening? I can stay over then?’ You offered and Jeno immediately smiled back at you.

‘Perfect.’ He muttered and leant back in to give you one final kiss.

He then stepped back and the two of you smiled at each other as you began to walk away.

---

You sat in your car, humming along to the song on the radio as you pulled up to a red light. You thought back to the night you had just had and couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across your face. You hadn’t seen the boys in a while so it had been really nice to spend the day with them, and seeing Jeno was always something that you loved.

You noticed the light turn green, and you moved forward. The song on the radio came to a stop, the next one playing soon after and you instantly recognised it as one of Jeno’s favourite songs. He had played it for you that morning. You leaned down to turn up the volume to listen to it, taking your eyes away from the road for a second too long. You weren’t paying attention to the truck that had just barrelled through the red light opposite you. You didn’t see it skid out of control, spinning towards your car at speed.

You just lifted your eyes back to the road when-

Crash.

---

Jeno got the call two hours later. He listened as the words crackled down the phone he held to his ear.

‘Hello?’ He answered, not recognising the number.

‘Is this Lee Jeno?’ The voice asked him without returning Jeno’s greeting.

‘Yes this is him.’ Jeno replied, standing up from the table he was sat at with Jaemin, Jisung and Renjun, instead choosing to move to the corner of the room for a bit of privacy.

‘Jeno, my name is Dr Park, I’m calling from Seoul Medical Centre. You are currently listed as the emergency contact for a y/n y/l/n.’

‘Yeah that’s my girlfriend, is everything okay?’ Jeno asked quietly, not noticing the confused looks the boys were sending each other behind his back. He ran a hand through his hair to calm himself as he could feel his nerves begin to rise.

‘I’m sorry to tell you that no, everything is not okay, Mr Lee. I regret to inform you that y/n y/l/n has been involved in a car accident just over an hour ago. Our team tried all they could but unfortunately it wasn’t enough. I’m so sorry Mr Lee, but on the way to the hospital, she passed away...’

The rest of the words faded into nothingness, the phone falling from his grip as he stared ahead, his entire body feeling numb. The three other boys in the kitchen stared at him in confusion, Jaemin quickly moved to grab Jeno by the arms, asking what happened, Jisung watched him in confusion while Renjun picked up his phone from the ground and asked the person on the other side what was going on. Renjun’s face paled as he heard the news, quickly thanking the doctor on the line before hanging up and turning towards the rest of the boys.

He swallowed, staring as Jeno’s catatonic figure before speaking, his voice trembling.

‘There- there was a car accident. A drunk driver hit y/n’s car. She... she didn’t make it.’

Jaemin and Jisung’s heads whipped towards Jeno, both of them staring at him with wide eyes, as if waiting for him to confirm the news.

‘Y/n...’ Jaemin began, only to be interrupted by Jeno’s voice.

‘She’s dead.’ He stated, his voice surprisingly firm. ‘She’s dead.’ He repeated, much softer this time. His eyes turned to his best friend. ‘Y/n? She’s dead? My... my y/n’s dead?’ Jaemin nodded slowly, watching as the tears began to fill Jeno’s eyes. His breath started to leave him as the realisation dawned on him and the news began to sink in.

You were dead. You were never coming back.

Jaemin moved forwards, wrapping Jeno up in the most secure hug he had ever felt in his life. It took him a second before he could even respond, wrapping his own arms around his friend. As each second ticked away, he could feel his grip tighten, the thoughts swimming around his head gradually drowning him.

‘I’m not...’

Jaemin shushed him, rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him. Jeno just gave up, pushing his head in Jaemin’s neck as he finally broke down. The cries tearing from him sounded painful, but it was nothing to the pain he was feeling in his chest. Jeno was in so much pain, it felt as though he could feel his heart physically splitting in half.

‘I’m not ready for this.’ He sobbed. And he wasn’t. Jeno had no idea how to live his life without you in it, and it wasn’t anything he wanted to know how to do. But now, that was about to become his new reality.

---

Your funeral was the hardest day of Jeno’s life.

If Jeno thought he had had difficult days before, he was wrong. Today, he had to bury the person he loved more than anything else in this world. He had to leave behind the woman he had hoped to be with forever. He had to admit that she was never coming back.

He had to say goodbye to you.

Getting into the suit he was wearing took three people. Both Jaemin and Renjun had to come in so that they could help him do his tie properly, put in the cufflinks and pull his jacket on. There were about five times while getting dressed Jeno just wanted to give up and go in sweats, but this was for you. When it got difficult, he just reminded himself, this was for you.

He had to greet your family, all of them in tears, reassuring him that you loved him so much as he hugged them. So many other people came up to him, crying and patting him and hugging him to show their sympathy.

He sat through the service feeling completely numb. The loving words from your family and friends sounded muffled, as if he was underwater, and Jeno just focused on trying not to break down.

‘Now we will hear from y/n’s boyfriend, Lee Jeno.’ Those words cut through his haze, grabbing his attention.

Jeno knew this was coming. Soon after your death your family had asked Jeno to give a eulogy, knowing it was what you would have wanted. He had been preparing for it for the past few days, but now, with the letter he had written to you in his hands, he wasn’t sure if he could do it. His hands began to shake as he forced himself to stand.

Do it for y/n.

Jeno whispered this to himself over and over like a prayer as he climbed to the lectern. He placed his speech on the stand in front of him and looked out to the crowd.

He saw your family, all of them drowning in tears, he saw some of your friends he recognised, but his eyes came to rest on the boys. The six other Dream members who had been allowed to come with him to the funeral. All of them gave him nods of encouragement, but Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off Hyuck.

Hyuck was clearly crying, the lights reflecting off the tear marks on his cheeks, yet he still gave a tight lipped smile and a nod, before pointing subtly up to the ceiling and placing his hand on his heart, conveying a message only Jeno could understand.

Do it for y/n.

Jeno bit his lip to stop himself from crying. He had written this for you and now he knew he had to say it. He had to say goodbye. He took a shaky breath and began to speak.

‘When I was asked to write a eulogy for y/n, I thought it would be easy. I would talk about how brilliant of a person that we all knew she was, how much good she brought into the world and, most of all, how much I loved her. But when I sat down to actually write it, to get the words down on paper, I didn’t know where to begin. How do you sum up her entire character, in a few words? The simple answer is, you can’t. All her achievements and all her challenges, no matter how big or small, shaped her into the person that we all know and love today. And we’re only here today, because she can’t be that person for us anymore. I don’t think I can stand in front of you and talk about y/n and how much I love her, simply because I don’t think I’ll be able to do that for more than a few seconds before I break down, so...’ Jeno took another deep breath, blinking back a few of the tears that were threatening to fall. ‘I’m going to talk about tradition. Tradition is defined as the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation, or the fact of being passed on in this way. But I think it’s a lot more than that. Traditions aren’t always passed down through generations, sometimes they’re kept just within one lifetime, but that tradition is what makes that lifetime special. Traditions give you a routine that is personal to you, something that you do religiously because it means something to you, because you have a connection to it... because you love it. A tradition that y/n and I had, was to visit the place we met. Even before I was lucky enough to call her mine, we went there once a week just to spend time together. Even when we were together, we would head there at night, to watch the stars, and talk about life. The life we were living, the life we wanted to live, and the life we thought we would be living by now, and every week, we both came back with a different answer. I went with her once a week, and when she asked what life I was living and what I wanted to be living, I realised that they had one thing in common, and that was that they both had y/n in it. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, I knew I would do anything to have her by my side. Because she was my tradition, she was my life. But if I’ve learnt anything about life, it’s that you can’t choose how it’s lived. It chooses that for you, but I would give anything, and I mean anything, just to have told her that I loved her one last time, and that my future didn’t just include her... it was her. I will never forget you, y/n. Quite simply because, you’re not somebody that people forget. I love you, and I will love you for as long as I live. I swear on the stars.’

Jeno lowered his eyes away from the crowd, quickly folding up his paper as he stepped away from the stand. He walked back to his seat, the only sounds being his footsteps and the various cries echoing around from family members and friends. He sank back into his seat, his eyes and heart empty as he watched the service continue.

He didn’t cry. Not for the entire rest of the service. And when it ended, he stood, and made his way towards the exit, not waiting for any of the boys, not waiting for your family, he just left.

Once he got outside, he leant against the wall and looked at the sky. He couldn’t see the stars yet, the sun was still shining down on him, but Jeno still spoke to you, whispering a quiet message for the wind to carry to you, wherever you were.

‘I love you.’

It didn’t take long for everybody else to leave the building, the service being over. The coffin was carried carefully to the burial site, and Jeno stood to the side, watching as it was lowered in with care. Once it disappeared from sight, once you disappeared from sight for the final time, Jeno shut his eyes, finally allowing his tears to escape.

Your parents said a few final words, and everybody started to disperse. The entire part of the service after Jeno’s speech had gone like a flash to him, with him barely aware of what was going on, his body and mind numb from the pain he was recently so used to feeling.

The boys had been sitting further back than Jeno, and were making their way towards him when your family got there first. Your father reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly. He gave Jeno a sad smile, one that he returned as your father’s eyes filled with tears.

‘She would have loved your speech Jeno.’

Jeno didn’t reply, because he didn’t trust himself to speak without completely breaking down. Your mother gently stroked some hair out of his face, cupping his cheeks gently and Jeno failed to hold it in. He couldn’t stop the few tears that slipped down his face, onto the fingers of your mother as she looked at him the same way you used to when he needed comfort.

‘She loved you, so much.’

Jeno nodded. ‘I know, I loved her too.’ He choked out quietly, accepting the hug that your mother pulled him in for and almost losing it at the words she whispered into his ears.

‘She used to say that you were the best thing that ever happened to her. And I will always be thankful that it was you she fell in love with.’

She pulled away, giving him one last smile before the two of them walked away from the daughter they had just buried.

Jeno turned around, only to be greeted with one of the boys.

‘The rest went to the car, they thought it would be best not to overwhelm you with questions at the minute.’ Hyuck spoke, Jeno nodding gratefully.

Hyuck stepped forward, knowing Jeno well enough to understand what he needed without it being said. He placed his hands on Jeno’s shoulders and pulled him in for a tight hug, one which could only be given by a brother. Jeno immediately wrapped his arms around his friend, burying his head into his shoulder and trying desperately to stop the silent tears that cascaded down his cheeks.

‘I’m not ready to let go.’ Jeno whispered, Hyuck replying after a second pause.

‘I know.’

---

Jeno barely left his room in the two weeks it had been since you had been buried. Yet he still visited you everyday. It was the only time he got out of bed. Otherwise he just lay there, only moving when the pillow got too wet from the constant tears that fell from his face. His parents had wanted to get him and bring him back home, but he refused. It was too far away from you, and he’d promised he would always be close to you, to protect you.

All of the dreamies had tried to help him, tried to get him to get up, to eat, to take a shower, but it was all in vain. They had all come in with food and pleas for him to just sit up, but he never replied. He didn’t have the energy to.

Jeno heard his door creak open and didn’t even bother to open his eyes to see who it was. It didn’t matter. He could hear hushed voices, before soft footsteps as whoever it was approached his bed.

His bed slightly dipped as they say on the end of it, gently moving some of his hair out of his face. Jeno flinched at the sudden contact, not expecting them to touch him and forced his eyes open to look at who it was.

He was greeted with Jaemin smiling sadly down at him. Jeno allowed his eyes to flicker to his clock, the red numbers spelling out 16:21, and all he did was sigh and let his eyes lose focus as he stared into space. It wasn’t like time meant anything to him anymore. Jaemin didn’t try to speak, instead placing the tray of food he was carrying down on Jeno’s bedside table, before reaching up and twisting the blinds slightly so that a crack of light filtered into his room.

Jeno stared at the dust particles he could see floating gently in the midday sun. They seemed so light, so free... Jeno had forgotten what that felt like without you. Eventually, Jeno spoke.

‘I’m not hungry.’ Jeno croaked out before shutting his eyes again, not even having the energy to roll over.

Jaemin sighed before taking a seat on his bed. He pulled the duvet down slightly from his friend’s face, trying to give him more room to breathe, but Jeno held onto it tightly.

‘Jeno... I-’ Jaemin began softly.

‘It’s okay, Jaemin, you don’t have to say anything. You also don’t have to know what to say, I don’t think anyone does.’ Jeno interrupted, stopping Jaemin in his tracks. Jaemin shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing.

‘Yes I do, because this is killing you Jeno. And I’m really scared because... I don’t know how to bring you back.’ Jeno could feel the tears start to well up behind his closed eyes and screwed them shut even tighter. ‘I’m not going to remind you that it happened and life moves on, because that’s bullshit. I’m actually going to tell you to ignore the company.’

That caught Jeno’s attention, he opened his eyes and looked at Jaemin with a curious gaze.

‘What about the company?’ He asked, sitting up slightly as Jaemin shifted uncomfortably, making it clear he said something he shouldn’t have. ‘Jaemin, what about the company?’

‘They want you to come back to work.’ Jaemin confessed, making Jeno blink in surprise. ‘Since the fans didn’t know about your relationship, they are struggling to come up with excuses as to why you’ve disappeared for almost a month and... they want you to come back to work. I’m sorry Jeno.’

Jeno didn’t reply for a second, instead just bit his lip and nodded.

‘Why are you sorry?’ He asked. ‘It wasn’t your idea. You didn’t tell me to go back to work. You didn’t kill her.’ His lip began to tremble as he continued to speak. ‘You weren’t the one who let her leave that night.’

‘Jeno what are you saying?’ Jaemin asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

‘I shouldn’t have let her go.’ Jeno admitted, finally voicing the guilt that had been weighing him down since the accident. ‘I told her to stay, but when she insisted on going home, I let her. And that’s when it happened. I should have told her to stay with me, I should have fought harder.’

‘Jeno you didn’t know what would happen.’ Jaemin attempted to comfort his friend, his own voice breaking slightly as the tears began to well up in his eyes.

‘That doesn’t matter. I could have saved her if I had just told her to stay. And now, now I’ll never see her again.’ Jeno’s voice cracked as the tears began to fall again, steady tracing their familiar paths down his cheeks. ‘She’s never going to get to live her life, and now I’m expected to just move on and live mine, acting as though she didn’t get her’s ripped away from her. I could have made her happy and I just... I let her down.’

Jeno brought his hands up to his face, rubbing his eyes before he pulled at his hair, the quiet sobs shaking him. Jaemin stared at his friend for a few seconds before finally allowing a few tears of his own to escape.

Then he began to speak.

‘You’re right. She got her life ripped away from her, and she’s never going to live the rest of it. She’s never going to do the things she wanted to, visit the places she’d dreamed of or achieve goals she’d had for years. And maybe she didn’t get the “happy ever after” that the two of you always talked about, but she still got her happy ending. It wasn’t the one you were planning, it wasn’t the one that any of us were planning, and it definitely wasn’t the one that any of us wanted, but she still got one didn’t she?’ Jaemin could feel the emotion begin to take over him, and, despite how hard he could, he couldn’t stop himself from crying as he continued to talk. ‘She was surrounded by so many of us and her friends, and she was always smiling and laughing. She was finally enjoying her studies, no matter how difficult she sometimes found them. She lost herself in her passions, always finding a way to zone out while focusing on them. And most importantly, she was in love, and she was loved. I know how cruel it is that life was ripped away from her, just at the moment she finally began to really appreciate and enjoy it, but just because she was taken too soon doesn’t mean she wasn’t happy. Y/n was truly happy before she died, maybe the happiest she had ever been. Yes, her story has ended. There are no more chapters to read, no more pages to turn except the final one to close the book, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a happy ending for her.’

Any hope Jaemin or Jeno had had of not breaking down in tears was completely ruined by the time Jaemin had finished talking. Both of the boys were practically sobbing, heartbroken at having lost someone they had both deeply cared for.

Jeno sat up fully, reaching his arms out towards his best friend and Jaemin wasted no tie in meeting him. He hugged his friend tighter than he had ever hugged him before, holding onto him as if he would slip through his fingers like you did.

He sat like this for minutes, not having the strength in himself to let go and trust that Jaemin would return to him. Eventually though, he managed to pull away, taking multiple shaky breaths as he calmed himself. Jaemin kept a hand on his friend’s arm, a reminder that he was there.

Jeno opened his eyes and looked towards the food that Jaemin had placed on his bedside table. Instead of looking at the food however, a framed photo caught his eye.

It was a picture of you and Jeno, one that had been taken by one of the boys when the two of them were napping. You were lying half on top of him, one hand placed comfortably on his chest and your head was tucked into his neck. Jeno couldn’t see his left arm as the picture had only been taken of your upper bodies, but he knew it was holding your waist while his right arm was showing in the picture to be tightly wrapped around your shoulders.

Jaemin followed his friend’s gaze towards the photograph, biting his lip to stop the tears again. He watched as Jeno reached out and picked it up, his fingers gently caressing your sleeping face. A soft smile came across Jeno’s face, the first smile that Jaemin had seen on him since your death.

Jaemin reached out and grabbed the tray he had brought in with him. He placed it on Jeno’s lap telling him quietly to eat before he got up and walked towards the door, giving his friend some privacy.

Jeno kept looking at the photograph, staring down at the face of the one who he loved so much. He still loved you, losing you hadn’t diminished his feelings for you at all. And he knew that if you were here you would be heartbroken that he wasn’t taking care of himself.

So Jeno picked up his food, and took a bite.

---

Jeno headed back to work a couple of days after his conversation with Jaemin. He started with dance practice, getting back into the routine of dancing for multiple hours a day with few breaks. He was getting back into it, reminding himself of what it used to be like and also finding it to be a distraction.

He had missed the way he used to lose himself in his dancing, allowing the music to take over his body and just to move to it as he felt best. It wasn’t quite the same as before, it felt as though something was missing, but it was better than nothing.

The boys didn’t have a comeback planned just yet, although they were being assured that something was in the works. Instead, they were performing at an event, therefore needed to be at the top of their game. It would be the first time the fans had seen Jeno in a month.

The company and boys had collectively agreed to not mention where Jeno was, their goal was just to avoid the topic entirely and hope that fans would just be happy that he was back. If they really needed to address it, they had warned Jeno that they would simply say he had a personal matter to attend to that involved him losing someone close to him and would ask for their respect on his privacy about the matter.

The boys were taking a quick break for lunch, Jaemin and Chenle had lost rock paper scissors so they were out buying food, Mark, Renjun and Jisung were filling up water bottles and Hyuck had gone to the bathroom so Jeno was alone in the practice room.

He sat with his back against the wall, the fan directed at his face as he took a sip from his water bottle and tried to cool down. He thought back to the time before everything happened, and how he would always pull out his phone to check something or would be doing other things during their breaks, but now he was content with just looking at the wall on the other side of the practice room.

He heard the squeak of the door and looked to see who was entering, expecting it to be one of the dreamies, so he was surprised when he saw Doyoung enter.

Doyoung smiled at Jeno as he entered, receiving a nod back from the younger boy. He walked forwards and Jeno stood up to hug his older member. Doyoung held onto him tightly, not saying anything as he didn’t want to upset Jeno.

When he pulled away he saw that Jeno wasn’t crying, nor were his eyes watering. Jeno gave him a small smile that barely reached his eyes and Doyoung patted his head.

It was the first time Jeno had seen Doyoung in a while, the 127 members having been told to give him space rather than smother him with questions and reassurance.

‘How are you feeling?’ Doyoung asked, his voice as gentle as everyone else’s was when they talked to him, as if their voice could break him if it was too loud.

Jeno took a deep breath, before shrugging and giving an honest reply.

‘I haven’t felt anything in a really long time.’

---

Sobs tore from the broken boy’s lips. Jeno had always been so happy, so full of life, people used to smile just by looking at him. Now all he got were sympathetic glances and hushed whispers behind his back. He was losing weight, he was losing sleep, but most of all, he was losing himself. The sunshine personality that seemed to previously define him no longer existed. None of his older brothers realised how much Jeno had relied on you to be happy, and now that you weren’t around anymore, it was becoming clear how much he needed you to function. The darkness residing inside of the boy no longer had your light to drive it away. Every manipulative word, every poisonous ‘what if’ every single other possible way that night could have gone ran through his head. And no one knew how to save him.

Jeno lifted his eyes, staring at your name carved eternally in stone in front of him. He came here every day without fail. Always bringing with him a story, or a love letter or a confession, anything so that he could talk to you the way he used to. And he made sure that he never said the same thing twice. Today, Jeno convinced himself to say the one thing he had been putting off, for the sake of his own sanity. But now, he realised that sanity was overrated, and maybe if he hadn’t put things off, if he hadn’t constantly pushed them to the side, he wouldn’t be in this situation. So he sucked up his pride, and spoke, choking through his words as his voice trembled and broke with emotion.

‘You told me to listen to a certain song, or watch this film, and I always said I’d do it later. Well, it’s later now, and I’m listening and I’m watching, but you’re not here for me to tell you how I felt about them. Why is it that I could only be bothered to listen to your recommendations after you’re gone? Why couldn’t I care enough before you died?’

He leaned down, resting his forehead on the cool stone that held the last memory of his soulmate, choking out one final whisper.

‘You said you’d grow old with me...’

---

‘Did you know it’s possible to die from a broken heart? Extreme emotional trauma can cause tears in the heart that lead to muscle failure which can eventually lead to death. It’s called broken heart syndrome.’ Jeno spoke quietly, his raspy voice cutting straight through to Renjun’s soul. ‘They say it feels similar to a heart attack, that’s why it’s dangerously misdiagnosed.’ He let out a shaky breath, turning his eyes towards the sky. He focused on the stars, the bright dots that got gradually more blurry due to the tears gathering in his eyes. ‘I always heard the phrase “my heart aches” but I had no idea that it was actually possible to really feel pain in your heart.’

He turned his eyes away from the endless night sky and looked at his friend, who was also sitting on the roof and watching him talk with tears of his own in his eyes. Renjun bit his lip as Jeno continued to talk.

‘But now... now I know. I know just how painful it can be.’ Jeno’s voice broke as Renjun choked back a sob of his own, hugging his knees into his chest and burying his head into his arms.

‘It’s not fair.’ Renjun’s muffled voice spoke out as he tried to pull himself closer to provide some sort of comfort. ‘She didn’t deserve this.’

Jeno shook his head, the tears that were falling felt all too familiar.

‘No she didn’t... she was a star.’ He readjusted his gaze so that he was studying the sky again. ‘My star.’ He whispered. ‘She loved to stargaze. Even though the endless concept of space scared her slightly, she loved seeing something bright shine fearlessly through the darkness. She said they were brave... to be themselves when everything around them is something different and that’s why stars shine the way they do. I always silently hoped that she knew that that was what she was to me. A star in the darkness, lighting the way when I couldn’t see anything. One like the north star, always there, never burning out and guiding people whenever they need it. I never told her... Why didn’t I tell her? Renjun, why didn’t I tell her?’ His voice was no more than a whisper now, one almost lost amongst the night.

‘I don’t know Jeno.’ Renjun admitted back, his voice just as quiet.

‘Well it doesn’t matter now does it? All that matters is, I could’ve told her how much she meant, how important she was, and I didn’t. And now... now I never can.’

Renjun pulled his legs away from his chest, laying them flat on the concrete beneath him and reached his arms out for Jeno. The taller male wasted no time in curling up into his friend, pulling himself into a ball as he let himself cry.

Renjun simply stroked his hair, feeling helpless as to how he could help. Right now the only person Jeno needed was you, and you were never coming back. What scared Renjun the most was that he knew your death was permanent, but there was no telling as to how permanently it had broken Jeno.

‘She’s watching over you, Jeno.’ Renjun reassured his friend, trying as best he could to calm the crying boy down. ‘She’s one of those stars up there, looking down on you now and telling you that you can do it. She may not be next to you anymore, but she’s always going to be here. She may have died, but her memory won’t, because you won’t let it.’ Jeno’s breaths gradually got steadier as he listened to Renjun’s comforting words. ‘Do you know which star I think she is?’ Renjun asked and Jeno nodded slowly as he turned his eyes to the sky. ‘That one... because it’s the brightest.’

Jeno followed Renjun’s finger to spot the star he was pointing to, and he wasn’t wrong, it was without a doubt, the brightest one in the sky. Jeno smiled sadly, nodding in agreement.

‘That’s my girl...’ Jeno whispered to himself, unable to take his eyes off the star Renjun had dedicated to you. Right then and there Jeno suddenly realised that he knew something for certain. You would always be with him, no matter where he went. And that as long as he had you, he would be okay.

---

Healing doesn’t mean forgetting, it just means letting go. You were never going to grow old, never going to go stargazing with him again, never going to have discussions about the meaning of life at 2am, never going to play with your kids on the playground, never going to kiss his cheek and stroke his hair while telling him to breathe. And it isn’t supposed to be okay, but in the end, it has to be. Life doesn’t wait for you to come to terms with it, it moves on, even when you aren’t ready for it or it isn’t fair.

Jeno is trying. He’s trying to think less about everything you missed out on, and more about everything that he got to experience with you. He likes to think about how you made a point of going to the same frozen yogurt place on your way to visit him at work, just so that you could try every flavour there, even though you already had your favourite. Or about the way you tried to learn a new constellation for each time the two of you went stargazing just so that you could teach it to him. And he fondly remembers your dedication to laughing at every single one of jokes, even the ones he knew weren’t funny. And he can never help but smile when he remembers the feeling of coming back into your apartment after a long day, and immediately being pulled into dance to whatever music you were playing while you made dinner, and how it was as if all the stress of the day melted off him.

Jeno now knows that you were right. Nothing ever really does end. Not a story, not a relationship, not a life. Even though your story may have come to it’s finish, it still lives on. Your heart may have stopped, but you are still living in the lives of those who you touched. Jeno sees you in everybody. He sees you in Jisung’s hopeful nature, the way he always tries to see the good in situations that otherwise seem dire. He sees you in Donghyuck’s ability to lift his spirits, even when he hasn’t smiled in days. He sees you in Chenle’s honesty, how he can always rely on Chenle to give him the truth when he asks for it. He sees you in Renjun’s inquisitive nature, the way he always wants to know more about the world and the universe, or in the way he always points out the brightest star in the sky. Just like you used to. He sees you in Mark’s reliability, the way that, no matter how stressed out he was feeling or how busy he was, when Jeno needed him, Mark was there. And Jeno sees you in Jaemin. He knows that you connected with Jaemin more than Jaemin had ever admitted, and Jeno also knows that losing you hurt a lot more than his friend had let on. He sees you in Jaemin’s attempts to keep himself together, because he knew that Jeno needed him. He sees you in Jaemin’s habit of bringing him a meal on the nights he knew that he hadn’t eaten. He sees you in Jaemin’s determination and drive to continue with what he was passionate about no matter the challenges it proposed. And he sees you in his smile. In the pure, unedited happiness that always radiated off his best friend when he smiled.

Jeno can’t help but see you everywhere he goes. He sees you in the snow gently falling to the ground, remembering how you would always insist on going outside when it started snowing, no matter what time of day it was. He sees you in the rain splashing on the pavement outside the dorm, remembering how you loved to curl up on his chest with a book, always liking the window slightly open because the smell and sound of rain comforted you. But most of all, more than anything, he sees you in the sun. The golden beams that warm his cold being, gently caressing his limbs remind him of how you would gently rub your hands over his aching muscles. The way that everything revolves around the sun, the way that without it, the world would be dark and empty, reminds him of the importance you had. How much you meant to him.

Jeno will never forget you. He told you this when you were alive, he’s said it to the boys, he repeated it at your funeral and he’s told it to your grave multiple times since then. But he doesn’t need to say it anymore, because you’ll never leave him. And that’s not because you touched everyone around you, but because you touched him. You had such a massive impact on his life that Jeno knows he will never be the same. He wouldn’t be able to forget you even if he tried.

Jeno’s learnt a lot over the past few months. He’s learnt that death didn’t happen to you. It happened to everyone around you. It happened to everyone who you left behind, everyone left standing at your funeral wondering how they’re going to live the rest of their lives without you in it. He’s learnt that, sometimes life throws you curveballs, sometimes it makes you live a reality you would do anything to avoid, but he’s also learnt that it doesn’t give you a choice. Most importantly, however, he’s learnt that he doesn’t owe it to you, to himself, to the sun, or even the stars to grieve forever.

Because letting go of you is the hardest thing that Jeno has ever had to do.

And it took him a long time, but eventually, finally, Jeno learned, sometimes letting go, hurts less than holding on.

‘Sleep well, my love. You’ve earned it.’

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