#will forever love this show for this decision

[headspace-hotel]

This year has, so far, been for me a series of rapid realizations of what I have been unlearning.

I went to the library. This was a couple weeks ago. I knew I needed to read a book, fiction. I hadn't done so in over a year and it was the longest period of time I had ever gone without doing so. I made a rule: I would only pick books I had never heard of, by authors I had never heard of, and I would not do any preliminary research or even bother to look at what the book was about. I would make my decision on whether to read or not purely on my impression of the title, cover and opening lines.

The book was The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell. It was kind of a random selection. I sat down with it in a corner of the library and straight up devoured it. I tore through the book within a few hours, without taking a single break. I was captivated. I couldn't put it down.

It is a book about a guy who buys a Mayan figurine in a knickknack shop while he's on a business trip. and becomes obsessed with pre-Columbian sculptural art. There isn't really much of a plot apart from this. He goes to sketchy antique shows, has conversations with museum curators, wealthy art dealers and forgers, and seeks to learn how to distinguish a genuine pre-Columbian piece from a fake one. It was written in the 1970's, so the views on Native Americans are antiquated and sometimes offensive, and there is the troubling thread of the very concept of looting another culture's treasures and treating them as collectibles, though the book is not without commentary on this.

All the same, it was a completely intoxicating read. The vicarious experience of becoming fascinated with a topic and having it unfold a whole world for you was ferociously gripping, and so was the intrigue of the art collecting world itself. The frauds, forgeries, smuggling, museums, academics, aristocrats, auctions and seedy flea markets. Will he ever be able to tell if a piece is "real?" Does it matter if it's "real?" Why does he want to own and possess a piece of art, and how does its "realness" affect that desire? The book leaves you not knowing what to think.

It is a book about curiosity, portrayed in the narrative as a totally unreasonable lightning bolt that strikes a man who has never been fascinated by anything and changes him forever. Why? Why does a Mayan figurine, in particular, speak to him? Why does any piece of art, or any fascinating thing in the world, speak to anyone? It is unknowable.

I went to the library again. I picked a new book using the same rules. This book was Fragile Beasts by Tawni O'Dell. Just like the last time, I was totally captivated. I couldn't put it down.

Did I have a couple major problems with the portrayal of some important aspects of the story? Yes. (It would make the post much longer to discuss.) Was I completely captured by and invested in the story for the time I was reading it? Also yes. The book braids together several very different strands-- the story of a legendary Spanish bullfighter and a wealthy American woman that he loved, two brothers stuck in an ugly family situation after their father's death in a car accident, and a rich old heir to a Pennsylvania coal mining fortune and to the sinister underbelly of her family's business.

There was a lot about baseball, which I know nothing about, and bullfighting, which I know nothing about, and I certainly don't know anything about being a teenaged boy who resents and mistrusts his estranged mother, or an aristocratic old lady who lives in a mansion and eats fancy Spanish food. It was fun to experience so much unfamiliar stuff and to care about things I wouldn't normally care about. Once again I couldn't stop reading until I had finished it.

I don't know that either book was "good," though I thought they were both well written; I just know that reading them was like being hooked up to an IV of something essential and life-giving and feeling it reanimating my body.

It had been a year since I had read any fiction, but it had been much, much longer since I had loved to read. As I became an adult I had become picky and critical about books, and developed a highly sophisticated sense of my taste and the books I considered good- which were very rare. My taste in books became so sophisticated, eventually, that I didn't like books at all anymore.

I had almost withered away from deficiency of that essential nutrient known as STORY. I'd almost crumbled myself into dust from pretentiousness! I may have been terribly wrong about the kinds of things I liked to read, on top of it. And I certainly hadn't realized that story was such an essential nutrient.

"Just entertainment" the pretentious sorts of people might say of a book they think is useless-- but what is entertainment but to absorb your mind in something, and what is absorbing your mind in a book but to experience things you would never have experienced? It expands you and makes you more complicated. It is the study of human existence itself.

Now all I have been able to think about today is finishing my work and going to the library again...

[blxxmingrose]

the ceremony hadn’t started, but as hans looked into june’s eyes, it was like they were having a ceremony of their own. there in that quiet moment shared between the two of them, they had already spoken their love, bound their souls together, and became inseparable before they could even reach the dais. 

his smile was that of assurance, with no trace of worry for what could go wrong—just that calmness within him that told him june’s presence was all he needed. “let’s go get married,” he echoed, and finally, his feet moved. 

their walk to the dais felt like a glide to the ocean, the sand beneath them shaping around each footfall, immortalizing the steps they took to get to the altar. seagulls sang with the gentle waves for their procession music, and jinx and scooter trailed behind, not quite cognizant but joining in the solemn moment. hans never let go of june’s hand—the hand that always kept him steady. the hand that he would soon adorn with their wedding band.

as they reached their destination, the flowers welcoming them with the sweet scent of life they had started for themselves, hans turned to face june with a deep inhale. “this is it,” he whispered, lifting his hand to cup june’s cheek as the first tear fell from his eyes. he chuckled, knowing he’d be the first to cry on this day, but still being surprised at how such happiness could overflow so quickly. 

he brought his hand down only so he could reach for the piece of paper he had been carrying with him everywhere, his vows scribbled in neat handwriting but with tear marks all over. he smiled at june, a gentle smile, and he took a deep breath before reading through his vows. 

they say souls wander the earth after we pass, waiting to be reborn into our new life. my darling june, i think my soul did not do a lot of wandering. i think it always knew where it wanted to be reborn and went straight for it—because it is wherever you would be born in, so that we can be together again as two pieces of the same soul.  i have always thought that there was nothing waiting for me in this life, until you came along and taught me what living was like--what truly being alive felt like. it was not going through the motions of waking up and sleeping; it was experiencing all the joys, all the pain, all the love that made our hearts grow fonder of each other. you taught me how beautiful the world could be, even if we had so little. you taught me that nightmares made appreciating good dreams possible. and you, my love, you showed me that life could always grow where there is someone to nurture it.  you always saw my decisiveness as a good thing. you always saw my daydreaming as a foundation for our reality. you always made me feel strong when i thought i was helpless. and today, i vow to continue to dream with you about the life we will have, and to turn it into reality day by day. i vow to be a strong foundation when it’s your turn to feel weak. i vow to never waver, to always turn to you, my best friend and protector, to be my guiding light. and in turn, be yours.  i vow to be with you in this life and the next, and to always fill your days with adventure, love, and support. i will always see you in every little plant we grow, in every wave that crashes to the shore, in every ray of sunshine hiding behind the clouds. you are the other half of me, and i vow to never leave your side now and forever. 

hans’ eyes were misty with tears as he finished, his hand still shaking as he returned the piece of paper in his pockets. all he could see was june, and as it always will be, he was the only one that mattered. 

june’s fingers curled more firmly around hans’s, anchoring them both as they stood at the edge of everything they had dreamed of. the beach stretched before them, golden sand warm beneath their feet, waves rolling in with a quiet rhythm that seemed to echo the steady beat of his own heart. he breathed in deeply, letting the salt air settle in his lungs, letting the reality of this moment sink in. it was happening. after everything — every step, every quiet moment of realization, every whispered confession in the dead of night — they were here.

his gaze flickered to hans, catching the way his husband’s breath hitched, the way his eyes traced over the flowers, the space that had been prepared for them, the tangible proof of the day they had built with their own hands. hans had always been meticulous in his planning, careful with every detail, but june knew that even if none of this had been here, if they were simply standing barefoot in the sand, alone under the sky, this would still be perfect. because hans was here. because they were together.

a small smile pulled at june’s lips, something soft, something that carried the weight of everything he felt but hadn’t yet spoken. he turned toward hans fully, his free hand lifting to smooth over his husband’s arm, tracing the fabric of his sleeve. “not a single flower ran away,” he echoed, amusement threading through his voice, though it was quieter now, lost beneath the emotion swelling in his chest. “and the sky’s clear, and the waves are calm, and everything’s right where it should be.”

he hesitated, then reached up, brushing his fingers along hans’s jaw, tilting his face just slightly so their eyes met, so there was nothing between them but the truth of this moment.

“it’s real,” he murmured. “you and me, standing here. just like we always planned.” his thumb traced gently over hans’s cheekbone, a touch meant to soothe, to let hans feel the same certainty june did. his fingers curled slightly where they rested. his chest ached with love, a love that was bigger than words, bigger than anything he had ever known. it was in every breath, in the warmth of hans’s skin beneath his touch, in the way their hands remained clasped, unwavering, steady.

for a moment, he just let himself look. at the man he loved, the man who had changed everything, the man he would spend the rest of his life with. then, with the slightest tilt of his head, he murmured “let’s go get married, my love.”

[tosomeonessomeone]

The mark of two worlds.

words・ 6.9k /pairings・ Jisung x reader / genres・fluff, a little angst / warnings・ love making

On your 21st birthday, the world as you knew it changed forever. It started with a strange tingling sensation on your wrist, where a small, intricate mark had appeared overnight. At first, you thought it was just a weird birthmark or a temporary tattoo you’d forgotten about. But then, in the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your cozy apartment in Seoul. Instead, you found yourself standing in the middle of a quaint, sunlit living room in a house you’d never seen before.

Panic surged through you. *Where am I? How did I get here?* You stumbled backward, your heart racing, as you took in your surroundings. The house was warm and inviting, filled with soft furniture, bookshelves lined with your favorite novels, and a kitchen that smelled faintly of vanilla. It felt... familiar, as if it had been waiting for you.

Over the next few weeks, you discovered that the mark on your wrist was no ordinary mark. It was a *soulmate mark*, a gateway to an alternate universe. Every time you touched it and focused, you could teleport between your world and this peaceful, idyllic house in a charming little city. It became your sanctuary, a place where you could escape the chaos of your life.

In your world, you were a rising star—a recently graduated literature student turned international sensation after your debut novel took the world by storm. Your days were filled with interviews, book signings, and endless deadlines. But here, in this other universe, you were just... *you*. No fame, no expectations, just quiet moments to breathe and be yourself.

For three years, you visited the house regularly, growing more and more attached to it. You filled the shelves with your favorite books, cooked meals in the cozy kitchen, and even planted flowers in the small garden outside. It felt like a second home, a place where you could recharge before returning to your hectic life.

But one day, everything changed.

You teleported to the house as usual, expecting the familiar silence and solitude. Instead, you were met with the sound of someone crashing into a table, followed by a startled yelp. Your eyes widened as you saw a boy—no, a man—in his early twenties, standing in the middle of the living room, looking just as shocked as you were.

He had messy brown hair, wide, panicked eyes, and a mark on his wrist that glowed faintly, just like yours. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, frozen in place.

“W-who are you?!” he stammered, his voice trembling. “How did I get here?!”

You recognized him instantly. It was *Han Jisung*, the talented rapper, singer, and lyricist from Stray Kids. But in this moment, he wasn’t the confident idol you’d seen on stage. He was just a boy, confused and scared, just like you had been three years ago.

“I... I think I’m your soulmate,” you said softly, holding up your wrist to show him the mark.

His eyes darted to your wrist, then to his own, and the realization slowly dawned on him. “Soulmate marks... alternate universes... this is insane,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But... it kind of makes sense?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room easing just a little. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in. But... welcome to your second home, Jisung.”

He blinked at you, his panic slowly giving way to curiosity. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. You’re kind of a big deal in my world,” you said with a smile. “But here... you’re just Jisung. And I’m just me.”

For the first time, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Just Jisung, huh? I think I like the sound of that.”

One of the first things you did was exchange numbers. It was a practical decision—after all, you both had lives to return to in your normal universes—but it quickly became something more. Texts turned into late-night phone calls, and soon, you were sharing snippets of your days with each other. Jisung would send you voice notes of new lyrics he was working on, and you’d send him photos of your writing desk or the view from your apartment window. It was a strange but beautiful way to build a connection, bridging the gap between your two worlds.

Your weekly meetings in the alternate universe became a ritual. Every Saturday afternoon, without fail, you’d both teleport to the house and spend hours together. Sometimes you’d cook meals in the cozy kitchen, laughing as Jisung attempted (and failed) to chop vegetables without nearly cutting his fingers off. Other times, you’d curl up on the couch with a book or a movie, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

One of the best parts of this alternate universe was the freedom it offered. You could go out for walks in the city without worrying about paparazzi or fans recognizing you. The streets were quiet and peaceful, lined with quaint shops and cafes. It felt like a dream, a world where you could just exist as two ordinary people, hand in hand, without a care in the world.

But back in your normal universe, things were a little more complicated. Jisung couldn’t keep the secret of your relationship from his Stray Kids members for long. One evening, during a late-night practice session, he accidentally let it slip.

“So, uh, I’ve been spending a lot of time with someone,” he said casually, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

The room went silent. All eyes turned to him.

“Wait, what?” Changbin was the first to break the silence. “You’ve been *what*?”

“Who is it?” Hyunjin demanded, his eyes narrowing. “Is it someone we know?”

Jisung hesitated, but the members weren’t about to let him off the hook. Under their relentless questioning, he finally caved and told them everything��about the soulmate mark, the alternate universe, and you.

The reaction was... loud, to say the least.

“YOU HAVE A SOULMATE?!” Felix shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

“And she’s *the* Y/N? The writer?!” Jeongin added, looking utterly starstruck.

“This is so unfair!” Seungmin complained, crossing his arms. “Why does Jisung get to have a soulmate who’s, like, the coolest person ever?”

Chan, ever the leader, tried to calm everyone down, but even he couldn’t hide his curiosity. “So, when do we get to meet her?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “No way. Absolutely not. She’s *my* soulmate, and I’m not sharing her with you guys. You’ll just annoy her.”

But the members weren’t about to take no for an answer. Over the next few days, they bombarded Jisung with demands to meet you in your normal universe. They even started brainstorming ways to “accidentally” run into you, much to Jisung’s dismay.

“They’re relentless,” he complained to you during one of your weekly meetings. “I swear, if they ever meet you, they’re going to embarrass me so much.”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I think it’s sweet. They just want to make sure I’m good enough for you.”

Jisung rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “You’re more than good enough. They’re just jealous.”

Despite his protests, you could tell that Jisung was secretly pleased by how much his members cared. And while you weren’t quite ready to meet them yet, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought of being welcomed into his world—even if it meant dealing with seven overprotective Stray Kids members.

After weeks of relentless pestering, Jisung finally gave in. The Stray Kids members had made it clear that they weren’t going to drop the subject until they met you, and Jisung knew better than to fight a losing battle. So, one evening, he texted you with a mix of excitement and dread.

**Jisung:** So... the guys won’t stop bugging me about meeting you. I tried to hold them off, but they’re like a pack of wolves. What do you think? Are you up for it?

You stared at your phone, a nervous flutter in your chest. Meeting Jisung’s members was a big step, and while you were curious about the people who meant so much to him, the thought of facing eight incredibly talented and charismatic idols was more than a little intimidating. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were curious about them too.

**You:** I mean... I guess it’s inevitable, right? As long as they promise not to interrogate me too much, I’m in.

**Jisung:** Oh, they’re definitely going to interrogate you. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Mostly.

You laughed, shaking your head. **You:** Mostly? That’s not very reassuring.

**Jisung:** Trust me, you’ll be fine. You’re amazing, and they’re going to love you. Just... maybe brace yourself for a lot of chaos.

The day of the meeting arrived, and Jisung had arranged for you to come to the Stray Kids dorm after their practice. You stood outside the building, clutching a small bag of pastries you’d brought as a peace offering, and took a deep breath. Before you could second-guess yourself, the door swung open, and Jisung appeared, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug. “You ready for this?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted, laughing nervously. “But let’s do it anyway.”

He grinned and took your hand, leading you inside. The moment you stepped into the living room, all eyes turned to you. The members were scattered around the room, some on the couch, others on the floor, but they all froze when they saw you.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Jisung announced, his voice a mix of pride and apprehension. “Y/N, this is... well, you know who they are.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, all at once, chaos erupted.

“Oh my god, it’s really her!” Felix exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

“Hi, I’m Hyunjin,” Hyunjin said, giving you a dramatic bow. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Did you really write *Whispers in the Dark*?” Jeongin asked, his eyes wide with awe. “That book destroyed me.”

“Okay, okay, give her some space,” Jisung said, stepping in front of you like a human shield. “Don’t scare her off before she even sits down.”

You laughed, holding up the bag of pastries. “I brought these as a peace offering. I figured you guys might be hungry after practice.”

“You’re already my favorite,” Changbin declared, grabbing the bag and peeking inside. “Oh, these look amazing.”

As the members dug into the pastries, the initial tension eased, and the room filled with lively chatter. They bombarded you with questions—about your books, your writing process, and how you and Jisung had met—but it was all so genuine and enthusiastic that you couldn’t help but feel at ease.

At one point, Chan leaned over to Jisung and whispered, “You’re so lucky. She’s perfect.”

Jisung grinned, his chest puffing with pride. “I know.”

The evening flew by in a blur of laughter and stories. The members took turns teasing Jisung, much to his embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. You quickly realized that this was just their way of showing affection, and you couldn’t help but admire how close they were.

As the night wound down, Jisung walked you to the door, his hand lingering in yours. “So... what did you think?” he asked, his voice soft.

“They’re amazing,” you said, smiling up at him. “A little overwhelming, but amazing. I can see why they mean so much to you.”

He smiled, his eyes warm. “Yeah, they’re my family. And now... you’re part of that too.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand. “I’m glad.”

As you left the dorm, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. Meeting Jisung’s members had been a big step, but it had also brought you closer to him—and to the world he called home. And as chaotic as it was, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

——

Almost a year had passed since Jisung first stumbled into your shared sanctuary, and in that time, your bond had only grown stronger. You’d shared countless moments together—laughing over burnt pancakes, staying up late talking about your dreams, and exploring the charming streets of your alternate universe. But there was one thing Jisung had never done: kiss you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. In fact, the thought crossed his mind more often than he cared to admit. But Jisung was a gentleman at heart, and he wanted everything to be perfect. He didn’t want to rush or pressure you, so he held back, content to simply be by your side.

That is, until Minho brought it up.

It was a rare quiet afternoon at the Stray Kids dorm. Jisung was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, when Minho plopped down beside him with a mischievous grin.

“So,” Minho began, his tone dripping with curiosity, “how’s Y/N?”

Jisung glanced at him, sensing trouble. “She’s great. Why?”

Minho shrugged, feigning innocence. “No reason. I was just wondering... have you kissed her yet?”

Jisung froze, his cheeks turning bright red. “W-what? That’s none of your business!”

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Jisung’s flustered reaction. “Almost a year together, and you haven’t even kissed her? Jisung, what are you waiting for? A written invitation?”

“It’s not that simple,” Jisung muttered, sinking into the couch. “I don’t want to mess things up. What if she’s not ready? What if I’m bad at it? What if—”

“What if you stop overthinking and just go for it?” Minho interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Y/N clearly adores you. Trust me, she’s not going to run away if you kiss her.”

Jisung groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “Why are you like this?”

Minho laughed, patting Jisung on the shoulder. “Because someone has to knock some sense into you. Now go. Be the dorky gentleman she fell for, but maybe add a little romance, huh?”

Later that evening, Jisung teleported to the alternate universe, his mind still racing from Minho’s words. You were in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you stirred a pot of soup. The sight of you—so effortlessly beautiful and at ease—made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorway.

You turned and smiled at him. “Hey yourself. Hungry? I made your favorite.”

He nodded, but his usual enthusiasm was replaced with a nervous energy. As the two of you sat down to eat, he couldn’t stop replaying Minho’s advice in his head. *Just go for it. Be romantic.*

After dinner, you moved to the living room, where a cozy fire crackled in the fireplace. You curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and Jisung sat beside you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you said, tilting your head to look at him. “Everything okay?”

Jisung took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “Yeah, I just... I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

He hesitated, then turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. “About us. About how much you mean to me. And about how I’ve been too scared to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what he was saying. “Jisung...”

Before you could say more, he leaned in, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was warm and tentative, as if he was giving you every opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss.

It was everything Jisung had imagined and more—sweet, tender, and filled with all the emotions he’d been holding back. When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t stop the goofy grin spreading across his face.

“Wow,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “That was... wow.”

You laughed, your own cheeks tinged with pink. “Took you long enough.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder. “Don’t tease me. I was nervous, okay?”

You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his. “Well, for the record, it was worth the wait.”

Jisung smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he’d gotten something exactly right. And as the fire crackled and the night stretched on, he knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your story—one he couldn’t wait to write with you.

Over the next few months, your relationship with Jisung deepened in ways you hadn’t imagined possible. The kiss had opened a door to a new level of intimacy, and every moment you spent together felt like a treasure. Here are some of the most memorable moments that defined your journey:

The Rainy Day Adventure

One afternoon, as you both lounged in the cozy house, a sudden downpour began. The rain tapped against the windows, creating a soothing rhythm. Jisung, ever the spontaneous one, grabbed your hand and pulled you outside.

“What are you doing?!” you laughed, shielding your face from the rain.

“Living a little!” he shouted back, spinning you around in the middle of the empty street. The two of you danced and splashed in puddles like kids, completely drenched but utterly carefree. When you finally ran back inside, shivering and laughing, Jisung wrapped a blanket around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, grinning up at him.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he replied, his eyes sparkling.

The Late-Night Confession

One night, after a long day in your respective universes, you both teleported to the house at the same time. Exhausted, you collapsed onto the couch, your head resting on Jisung’s shoulder. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator.

“Can I tell you something?” Jisung asked, his voice breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, curious. “Of course.”

He hesitated, then said, “I used to think I didn’t deserve something like this—like you. Being an idol, it’s easy to feel like you’re always performing, even when you’re not on stage. But with you... I feel like I can just be me. And that means more to me than anything.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability. “Jisung, you deserve every good thing in the world. And I’m so glad I get to be part of your life.”

He smiled, pulling you closer. “Me too.”

The First Fight

Not every moment was perfect. One day, after a particularly stressful week, you and Jisung had your first real argument. It started over something trivial—a missed text message—but quickly escalated into a heated discussion about balancing your relationship with your individual lives.

“I just feel like you don’t understand how hard it is for me to juggle everything,” Jisung said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“And I feel like you don’t understand how much I worry about you,” you shot back.

The fight ended with both of you storming off to different rooms. But after a few hours of cooling down, Jisung found you in the kitchen, where you were absently stirring a cup of tea.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, leaning against the doorway. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like your feelings don’t matter.”

You looked up at him, your anger melting away. “I’m sorry too. I know you’re doing your best.”

He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your head. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”

The Quiet Moments

Not every moment was grand or dramatic. Some of your favorite memories were the quiet ones—reading side by side on the couch, Jisung humming as he cooked breakfast, or simply holding hands as you walked through the city. Those moments reminded you that love wasn’t always about big gestures; sometimes, it was about simply being together.

As the months turned into years, your relationship with Jisung became a tapestry of these moments—big and small, joyful and challenging. And through it all, one thing remained constant: the unwavering love and connection you shared, a bond that transcended universes and defied all odds.

——

The day of your one-year anniversary arrived, and Jisung had been acting suspiciously secretive all week. He’d been texting more than usual, disappearing for hours at a time, and even shooing you out of the house in the alternate universe with vague excuses like, “I just need to... uh, reorganize the bookshelf. Yeah.”

You played along, pretending not to notice his nervous energy, but you couldn’t help feeling excited. Jisung wasn’t exactly subtle, and you had a feeling he was planning something special.

When the day finally came, Jisung teleported to your apartment in your normal universe, looking unusually dressed up in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. He held out his hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Ready?” he asked.

“For what?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” he said, grinning.

He led you to a rooftop garden you’d never been to before. It was breathtaking—strings of fairy lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a warm glow over the space. A small table was set up in the center, complete with candles, flowers, and a bottle of champagne. Soft music played in the background, and the city skyline stretched out before you, twinkling like a sea of stars.

“Jisung... this is incredible,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I wanted to make tonight special. Because you’re special.”

The two of you sat down to a delicious meal, laughing and reminiscing about the past year. Jisung told you stories about his early days as a trainee, and you shared your own memories of writing your first book. It was a perfect evening, filled with love and laughter.

After dinner, Jisung handed you a small, beautifully wrapped box. “Happy anniversary,” he said, his voice soft.

You opened it carefully, your breath catching when you saw what was inside. It was a delicate silver bracelet, with a tiny charm shaped like a book. Engraved on the back were the words, *“To my favorite story.”*

“Jisung...” you said, your eyes filling with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

He took the bracelet and fastened it around your wrist, his fingers lingering on your skin. “You’re my favorite story, Y/N. Every chapter with you is better than the last.”

Later that night, back in the alternate universe, the two of you sat by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket. The air between you was charged with a new kind of energy, a quiet understanding that something had shifted.

Jisung reached out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in. His kiss was slow and deliberate, filled with all the love and longing he’d been holding back. You responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The alternate universe’s house was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the curtains gently swaying in the breeze from the open window. You and Jisung had spent the evening wrapped in each other’s arms, talking and laughing, but as the hours passed, the air between you shifted. There was a new kind of tension, a quiet understanding that something deeper was unfolding.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sheets, when Jisung walked over and knelt in front of you. His eyes, usually so full of mischief and energy, were soft and serious as they met yours.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to know something.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding as you waited for him to continue.

“You mean everything to me,” he said, his hands resting on your knees. “Not just because of the soulmate mark or because of this universe. You mean everything because of who you are. Because you make me feel like I can be myself, completely and without fear.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to cup his face. “Jisung, you’re my whole world. More than I can ever put into words.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment before he stood up, pulling you with him. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if he was savoring the moment. But when you responded, kissing him back with equal intensity, the hesitation melted away.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, filled with all the love and longing you’d both been holding back. His hands moved to the small of your back, pressing you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair. Every touch, every breath, felt like a promise—a promise to love, to protect, to cherish.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He smiled, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he leaned in again, his lips trailing soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Your breath hitched as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but confident. He pulled it over your head, his eyes never leaving yours as he took in the sight of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, but before you could respond, he kissed you again, his hands exploring every inch of your skin. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he slowly undressed you, each movement filled with reverence.

When you were both bare, he laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, you felt completely and utterly seen. There was no pretense, no masks—just the two of you, raw and vulnerable.

He kissed you again, his hands roaming your body as if he was memorizing every curve, every freckle. His lips trailed down your chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped as he reached the sensitive skin of your stomach, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Jisung,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire but still filled with love. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ll always have you.”

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you was overwhelming, a perfect blend of physical and emotional intimacy. Every movement, every touch, was filled with love and trust, a silent promise that this was more than just passion—it was forever.

As the world outside faded away, it was just the two of you, lost in each other. The stars outside the window seemed to shine brighter, as if they were bearing witness to this moment, this unbreakable bond between soulmates.

When it was over, you lay together, your bodies intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal. Jisung pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you.

“You’re my forever,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

You smiled, your heart overflowing with love. “And you’re mine.”

And as you drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, you knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of moments like this—moments of love, of trust, of unshakable connection.

The morning after your anniversary, you woke up to the soft sound of Jisung humming. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You turned to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed and looking at you with a soft smile.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice gentle.

“Good morning,” you replied, stretching lazily. “What are you doing up so early?”

He shrugged, his smile turning mischievous. “I wanted to make you breakfast. But I also didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You sat up, pulling the blanket around you. “Breakfast, huh? Should I be worried?”

He laughed, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on, let’s find out.”

In the kitchen, Jisung had laid out an impressive spread—pancakes, fresh fruit, and even a pot of your favorite tea. You raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“Did you actually make all this?” you asked, teasing.

“Hey, I’m full of surprises,” he said, pretending to be offended. “Besides, I had some help from a certain someone who may or may not have left me a recipe.”

You laughed, sitting down at the table. “Well, it looks amazing. Thank you.”

As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, filled with the kind of comfortable banter that had become second nature to you. Jisung told you about a new song he was working on, and you shared your latest writing project. It was a perfect morning, filled with laughter and love.

After breakfast, Jisung suggested spending the day exploring the alternate universe’s city. The two of you wandered through the streets, hand in hand, stopping at little shops and cafes along the way. It was a rare treat to be able to go out without worrying about paparazzi or fans, and you soaked in every moment.

At one point, you stumbled upon a small park with a beautiful fountain in the center. Jisung pulled you over to it, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Make a wish,” he said, handing you a coin.

You closed your eyes, thought for a moment, and tossed the coin into the water. When you opened your eyes, Jisung was watching you with a curious smile.

“What did you wish for?” he asked.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” you replied, teasing.

He pouted, but then his expression softened. “I think I can guess.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s that?”

He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “That we’ll always have this. That no matter what happens, we’ll always find our way back to each other.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re pretty good at guessing.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know you better than you think.”

As the stars began to appear in the sky, you and Jisung sat together, wrapped in a blanket and lost in your own world. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear—you were in this together, no matter what.

——

Despite Jisung’s initial reluctance, the Stray Kids members eventually wore him down and convinced him to let them spend a day with you in your normal universe. Jisung had been hesitant, worried about how the group dynamic might overwhelm you, but he finally gave in after relentless teasing and pleading from the members. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “But if any of you embarrass me, I’m kicking you out of the dorm.”

The day started early, with Jisung picking you up from your apartment. He was unusually jittery, pacing back and forth as you grabbed your bag. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his voice tinged with both excitement and anxiety. “They’re... a lot.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his. “I think I can handle it. Besides, I’ve been curious about meeting them properly.”

The plan was to meet the group at a popular café in Seoul, one that was known for being idol-friendly and discreet. When you arrived, the members were already there, seated around a large table and chatting animatedly. The moment Jisung walked in with you, the room erupted.

“Finally!” Changbin exclaimed, standing up and waving dramatically. “We were starting to think Jisung was hiding you forever.”

“Y/N!” Felix called out, his bright smile lighting up the room. “Over here!”

You waved back, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as Jisung led you to the table. Introductions were quick—most of them already knew who you were, thanks to Jisung’s endless stories—and soon you were seated between Jisung and Hyunjin, who immediately started asking you about your latest book.

“I read it in one sitting,” Hyunjin said, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. “The way you write about emotions—it’s like you’re inside my head.”

You laughed, flattered. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

The café visit was just the beginning. From there, the group decided to make a day of it, dragging you along to various spots around Seoul. First was a visit to a popular arcade, where Jeongin challenged you to a game of air hockey. (“I’m not going easy on you just because you’re Jisung’s soulmate,” he declared, only to lose spectacularly.)

Next was a spontaneous karaoke session in a private room, where the members took turns performing their favorite songs. Jisung, of course, stole the show with an impromptu rap he’d written about you, much to your embarrassment and the group’s delight.

“Y/N, you’re inspiring lyrics now!” Chan teased, clapping Jisung on the back. “Watch out, or he’ll write a whole album about you.”

Jisung’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t deny it. “Maybe I will,” he muttered, earning a round of cheers from the group.

Amid the chaos, there were quieter moments too. At one point, Minho pulled you aside while the others were busy arguing over which song to sing next. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

You nodded, following him to a quieter corner of the room. “Is everything okay?”

Minho smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to say... you’re good for him, you know. Jisung. He’s happier when he’s with you.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt a warm rush of gratitude. “Thank you, Minho. That means a lot.”

He shrugged, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laughed, promising to keep it between the two of you.

By late afternoon, the group was starving, so they decided to hit up a famous barbecue spot. The meal was a feast, with plates of meat, kimchi, and banchan covering the table. Jisung, ever the gentleman, made sure your plate was always full, even as the others playfully fought over the last piece of samgyeopsal.

“Y/N, you have to try this,” Felix said, handing you a piece of grilled pork wrapped in lettuce. “It’s life-changing.”

You took a bite, nodding in agreement. “Okay, you’re right. This is amazing.”

As the meal went on, the conversation turned to stories about Jisung—embarrassing ones, of course. “Remember that time he tripped on stage during rehearsal?” Seungmin said, grinning. “He tried to play it off like it was part of the choreography.”

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why do you guys do this to me?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute.”

As the sun began to set, the group reluctantly decided to call it a day. The members hugged you goodbye, each of them promising to hang out again soon. “You’re officially one of us now,” Chan said, giving you a warm smile. “Welcome to the family.”

Jisung walked you home, his hand firmly in yours. “So... what did you think?” he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You smiled up at him. “I think they’re amazing. A little overwhelming, but amazing. I can see why they mean so much to you.”

He sighed in relief, pulling you into a hug. “I’m glad you had fun. And... thanks for putting up with them. They can be a lot.”

You laughed, resting your head against his chest. “They’re your family. And now they’re mine too.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realized just how much your life had changed since meeting Jisung. It wasn’t just him—it was his world, his friends, his family. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But then, it happened.

A fan recognized Jisung. Then another. And another. Within minutes, a crowd had gathered, phones out, cameras flashing. You tried to stay calm, but the situation escalated quickly. Someone snapped a photo of Jisung holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. Another caught him leaning in to whisper something in your ear, his expression soft and intimate.

The photos went viral within hours.

The internet exploded. Your fans were thrilled, flooding your social media with messages of support and excitement. “Finally!” one comment read. “We always knew you’d find your soulmate!” But Jisung’s fans were... less kind. While some were happy for him, others lashed out, accusing you of being a distraction or questioning the authenticity of your relationship. The comments were relentless, and the pressure was overwhelming.

Jisung tried to shield you from the worst of it, but it was impossible to avoid. The constant scrutiny, the invasive questions, the speculation—it all became too much. You started having anxiety attacks, your chest tightening every time you opened your phone or stepped outside. Jisung, who had battled social anxiety himself, recognized the signs immediately.

“We need to get out of here,” he said one night, his voice firm but gentle. “Just for a little while. Until things calm down.”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this, Jisung. I can’t.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “You don’t have to. We’ll figure it out together.”

The two of you teleported to the alternate universe, to the house that had always been your sanctuary. For a month, you disappeared from the world. No social media, no interviews, no public appearances. Just you and Jisung, finding solace in each other and the quiet life you’d built together.

During that time, Jisung kept in touch with Chan, who acted as a bridge between you and the outside world. “Y/N’s struggling,” Jisung explained during one of their calls. “She’s having social anxiety, and I know how bad that can be. I need to protect her.”

Chan understood. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “We’ll handle things on this end.”

The members were supportive, sending messages of encouragement and keeping the worst of the rumors at bay. But even with their help, the outside world felt like a distant, hostile place.

After a month, things began to calm down. The initial frenzy had died down, and while the comments and speculation hadn’t completely stopped, they were less overwhelming. You and Jisung spent hours talking about what to do next.

“We can’t hide forever,” you said one evening, sitting by the fireplace. “I don’t want to live in fear.”

Jisung nodded, his hand squeezing yours. “I don’t either. But we need to do this on our terms.”

Together, you decided to make an official statement. It was time to tell the world the truth—about your soulmate marks, about your relationship, and about the need for privacy.

The day of the announcement, you and Jisung sat side by side, holding hands as you recorded a video. It was short but heartfelt.

“Hi, everyone,” Jisung began, his voice steady. “We wanted to take a moment to address the rumors and share something important with you. Y/N and I... we’re soulmates. We discovered this almost two years ago, and it’s been the most incredible journey of our lives.”

You smiled, picking up where he left off. “Our relationship is something we’ve always cherished, and we’ve worked hard to protect it. But recently, things have gotten out of hand. The invasion of our privacy has been overwhelming, and it’s taken a toll on both of us.”

Jisung nodded, his expression serious. “We’re asking for your understanding and respect. We’re just two people trying to navigate life together, and we hope you can support us in a way that allows us to do that.”

The video ended with a simple message: “Thank you for your love and support. Please give us the space we need to be happy.”

The reaction was mixed but mostly positive. Your fans rallied behind you, flooding your social media with messages of love and support. Jisung’s fans, while still divided, began to come around, many of them expressing their respect for your honesty and vulnerability.

The Stray Kids members were the first to publicly support you, posting messages of encouragement and urging fans to respect your privacy. “Love is love,” Chan wrote. “Let’s give them the space they deserve.”

In the weeks that followed, you and Jisung slowly began to re-enter the world. You were more cautious, more intentional about what you shared and how you presented yourselves. But the weight of secrecy was gone, replaced by a sense of freedom and relief.

One evening, as you sat together in the alternate universe’s house, Jisung turned to you with a smile. “We made it through,” he said. “And we’re stronger because of it.”

You nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah, we are. And no matter what happens, we’ll always have this.”

As the fire crackled and the stars shone outside, you knew that this was just another chapter in your story—a story that was far from over.

[starlight-bread-blog]

Okay I'm gonna go full conspiracy, but some of y'all are way worse so I'm doing this. Listen up. Will Byers and Mike Wheeler are fictional characters. Meaning, that everything they do, everything they think and yes, everything they feel has a purpose. So let's look at the facts as they are. Mike couldn't tell El that he loves her, and Will is in love with Mike. Right off the bat, with Will, this fact could lead to two things:

Mike is also in love with Will, and there will be a love triangle with Mike in the middle.

Mike is not in love with Will, and Will will either end up alone, or die, or find another queer boy to love.

With scenario 1, everything is fine. But although on paper, scenario 2 makes sense, we should take into account that everything that Will feels is a carefully thought out decision.

Let's remember the themes and the message of Stranger Things. This show is about the freaks of society, the losers, the outcasts. How people may l give them the side eye, but they have each other. And they'll stand by each other no matter what. So, how does this relate to Will and Mike? Will is a gay boy in the 80s, which not only makes him an outcast, but an outright freak in the eyes of the public. It would go against Stranger Things' message to write a freak trying to find love in his best friend, the one who's supposed to be by his side forever, and having him rejected. In real life, this would not be a problem. If someone is straight, they're straight. But in fiction, the sexuality and or love interest of a character is again, a choice with ramification on the quality of the story. And writing Will, a "freak", having his heart broken by someone who he considered another freak, when you're telling a story about how freaks empower each other by sticking together, is not a smart writing decision.

(There is also the matter of the van scene, where Will's supposedly unrequited feelings are being used to repair El and Mike's relationship, as Will cries over not being able to be with Mike. In other words, if Mike isn't in love with Will, the outcast's suffering is used to fix what's more socially acceptable. Do you see the problem? I don't know how many times I'm going to repeat myself in this post, and I hope it's not getting annoying, but I need to make this as crystal clear as possible: Fiction is not real life. In real life, a gay boy could use some words of affirmation regardless of how they feel, it's just being nice. But in fiction, you have a job to do. You have a story to tell. You have a message you want to put out into the world. And this scene is not compatible with the message).

But let's look at Mike. In season 4, El confronts Mike about him not telling her that he loves her. And throughout that whole scene, not even once, does he just say that he loves her. In the end he does, but the reason as to why he stopped saying it, or why he didn't say it when she confronted him, is never explained. In real life, it's okay if Mike wants to deal with whatever he feels and the reasons behind it with himself. But this is not real life, this was deliberately written to be understood by an audience. It was written to serve a purpose. Mike not being able to tell El that he loves her was a serious conflict in season 4, and the cause behind it is left unknown. This is bad writing, plain and simple. Unless, there is some other factor we are not yet aware of. Unless, he could possibly have feelings for someone else. Maybe that someone is Will.

With that theory in mind, remember when Will and Mike met after a long time of not seeing each other? Will was gonna hug Mike, but Mike just went for a fist bump. There was a very awkward atmosphere in that moment. Why would there be? Once again, I'm not talking about real life. In real life, it could just be awkward because they haven't talked to each other in a while and Mike needs time to adjust. But this is fiction. Every emotion has a purpose, every bit leads to something. And so far, it led to nothing. There was just one awkward moment, with no explanation, and it's never brought up again. There is no reason for it to be there. It's common knowledge that unnecessary story bits shouldn't make it to the final cut. If this wouldn't be expanded upon in some way, it'd be bad writing. It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen, but combined with him not being able to tell El that he loves her, it's all very confusing to say the least. But the story is not over, and maybe, all will be explained. And just maybe, that awkwardness could be described as tension between the two. Maybe Mike is in love with Will. That would be the most logical explanation.

[mechawolfie]

i love earthspark megs so much he's basically G1 megs but not evil and its VERY fun

[rapidhighway]

the thing with sonic 3 is I can't even be too mad at it. I knew that was going to happen. i love action too much. sonic and shadow had a high speed chase, shadow did the akira slide up a fucking building and then they beat each other up on the moon man. i am a weak weak man when it comes to cool as fuck action scenes and they made that movie for me, I was partly blind to everything else that was happening tbh. I actually will have to rewatch this movie to say anything coherent about it

[hashtag-naturalchickproblems]

How therapeutic was it for AJ and Paget to shoot those scenes?

This is what they deserve😭😭😭😭

[mizuno-marmalade]

cure marine!!!! ignore that one hand is way better than the other 😭 DON'T FORGET UR DAILY CLICKS FOR PALESTINE !!!!!!

[mot-hesbian]

The Mondrich storyline in season 3 is so unnecessary, personally I think they should have saved it for Benedict's season bc I find his relationship with them and his advice to be really interesting and would love for it to go both ways with him receiving advice regarding his relationship with Sophie.

[normalgirlatron]

i have the patience of someone with no patience so maybe i’ll just decide on one of those urls at random like with one of those wheel spin sites

[catstack17]

you know i didn’t think i was that stubborn until fandoms would try to tell me that my ships weren’t endgame.

practically every childhood ship i will still defend that they’re endgame despite anything that tells me they are not (including canon in some shows)

[mashmouths]

should i keep knitting the lil thing to be a cunty slutty lil tits out tank top (i don't have words to express how much i never ever ever have my tits out) or do i frog the tiny bit i've done and make it into a real life tank top (won't take long to rip and redo)

i have a resolution to dress less like a middle school summer camp counselor and i have sort of succeeded sometimes when i remember but if i do make this slutty, it'll give me more items to wear when i'm feeling it or going out or something! but also i am the scaredest girl alive when it comes to wearing anything fun and if i make it a more regular halter top w/o cutouts or whatever i'll probably wear it more maybe. help <3

[llycaons]

this is such a wild premise the budgeting issues and plot holes don't even bother me. I am entertained

[jrueships]

2A4!

HOBIE BROWN COCOA COLA WITH ICE AND FROG!!!!!!!

[sir-arlieosaurus-lung-struggler]

what was the show intro of your childhood?

For me its this (needed 2 videos for it):