#I don’t really know where to start with that now but I can clearly see what I would change or ignore from then | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mixxiew · 14 hours ago

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under the eclipse | 7dream

𖦹°‧ pairing: read and find out! (or read the tags but it will spoil everything lol!)

𖦹°‧ genre: angst! angst! did i say angst? yeah basically lots of drama

𖦹°‧ word count: 15k 🙂‍↕️

𖦹°‧ cw: infedelity!!, internalized homophobia, swearing, they will fight! a lot! so just know that, haechan really suck :(, jeno is not so kind :( yeah

- the story is clearly referring to the film “Perfect Strangers” directed by Paolo Genovese. i watched some nights ago and thought i couldn’t not write it with dreamies :) i just love drama. hope you enjoy it!

summary: a group of old friends gets together for dinner. one of them proposes a game, where everyone shares every text and call they receive during the day with each other, causing secrets to surface under the eclipse.

author’s note! this work is purely fiction and it isn’t meant to romanticize any of the thing it portrays. also I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the characters to their real life counterparts. all the rights goes to the author of the “perfect strangers” story, i just added my personal taste to it.

Mark adjusted the heat under the saucepan, stirring the sauce with slow, methodical movements. Across the kitchen island, Yunhee was slicing tomatoes with quiet focus, pausing now and then to glance up at him.

“Long day?” she asked, brushing the diced tomatoes into a bowl.

Mark gave a short, dry laugh. “Long doesn’t begin to cover it. Three consultations back-to-back. Everyone seems to be preparing for the new year with a new face.” He smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of people investing so much in a jawline.”

Yunhee smiled, her gaze soft. “Maybe they’re hoping a fresh face will mean a fresh start. There’s a reason people obsess over appearances, you know.” She leaned closer, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. “They believe it’s a fix for something deeper.”

He set down the wooden spoon, his expression thoughtful. “Do you really think that’s what it is?”

She nodded, her voice low, like she was sharing a secret. “I see it every day. People come to me believing there’s a magic answer to their unhappiness, and sometimes they think it’s found in something—or someone—outside themselves. In a new face, or a new job, or a new relationship.”

Mark watched her, feeling a familiar, quiet admiration. He stepped around the island and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes, savoring the touch, then looked up at him, and their eyes met.

“You ever wonder if we’re just… treating symptoms?” he asked softly. “That we’re both just polishing the surface?”

Yunhee smiled, reaching up to brush her thumb along his cheek. “Sometimes, yes. But sometimes, even the smallest shift can mean a lot to someone. We help them see themselves differently, in whatever way we can.”

He pulled her in, their lips meeting in a slow, familiar kiss, the world outside the kitchen momentarily forgotten. When they finally pulled back, they lingered close, eyes locked.

They shared a warm smile, the familiarity of their daily banter wrapping around them. Yunhee took a sip of wine, leaning in a little closer as she asked, “Are you looking forward to tonight?”

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Sure. Just hope everyone’s up for a good time. Chenle is also bringing is new girlfriend right? That’s awesome. Hope we stay out of drama today, we need to make a good impression or she’ll ran away like the others.”

She chuckled, nudging him with her elbow. “Since when have our friends ever managed a night without drama?”

Mark laughed, opening his mouth to respond.

“I’m afraid you’re right…as always.”

Chinsun balanced her phone between her shoulder and ear, rummaging through her purse with one hand while listening intently. “Yes, Mrs. Kim, I understand. Keep Pepper calm, and try the ointment I recommended. If he’s still limping tomorrow, call me first thing, okay?”

Haechan watched her from across the room, a mischievous grin spreading over his face. He tiptoed over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his lips to her neck. She stifled a laugh, glancing back at him with a playful scowl.

“Yes, I promise, it’s perfectly safe for him. Just—oh!” She clamped her mouth shut as Haechan’s hands roamed up her waist, pulling her closer. “Uh-huh… yes, exactly… oh, stop!” she whispered urgently, trying to wave him off, but she was already laughing.

Haechan’s grin only widened as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a swift, playful kiss. With a sigh, Chinsun quickly wrapped up the call. “No no,I wasn’t talking to you Mrs. Kim…call me tomorrow if anything changes, okay? Great. Bye!” She hung up, spinning around to face him with an amused smile.

“Couldn’t resist me, huh?” Haechan teased, raising an eyebrow.

Chinsun rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe, but you’re too hot, I couldn’t stop myself” he replied with a smirk, and before she could say anything more, he kissed her again, slow and lingering this time, the kind of kiss that blurred time and erased any thoughts of being anywhere else.

Moments later, Chinsun’s laugh echoed through the room as he swept her into his arms, and their dinner were momentarily forgotten.

Some time passed before they were finally ready, a little flushed and breathless. She smoothed her dress, fixing her hair with a small, secret smile as they grabbed their things and headed for the door.

“We’re definitely going to be late” she murmured, glancing at him as they stepped outside.

Haechan just grinned, reaching for her hand. “I’m so ready for the second course tho.”

He said, earning a little smack on his shoulder.

“Jaemin!” Soyul’s voice rang out from the bedroom as she hurriedly tossed through her jewelry box, searching for the bracelet she swore she’d set aside earlier. “Did you feed the cats yet?”

Jaemin sighed, stifling a smile as he finished scooping cat food into two separate bowls. “Already on it!” he called back. “And don’t worry—Minho’s food is in his ‘exclusive dining area,’ just like you asked.” He chuckled, glancing down as Minho, their older tabby, pawed at his bowl impatiently, while Luna, their younger, more mischievous cat, watched him with a sly look, clearly eyeing Minho’s food.

“Thank you!” she replied, sounding both grateful and a bit distracted as she continued the whirlwind search for her missing bracelet. A few seconds later, she darted out of the bedroom, one heel on, the other in her hand, a brush tangled in her hair, and a tube of mascara balanced between her lips.

Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “You’re a one-woman hurricane tonight,” he said, stepping over to her. Before she could protest, he gently took the brush from her hand and began working it through her hair, smoothing out the tangles with easy, familiar strokes. She gave a small sigh, visibly relaxing as she focused on finishing her mascara.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she murmured, finally setting her makeup down. “How do you stay so calm all the time?”

Jaemin smirked, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I have to be calm. Someone has to keep track of everything you lose” he teased. “Besides, I like seeing you a little flustered—keeps things interesting.”

Soyul shot him a playful look, nudging his shoulder. “Well, if you’re so organized, where’s my bracelet?”

With a smirk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver bracelet, holding it up with a satisfied grin. “Right where I found it—by the coffee machine.”

She laughed, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist and giving him a grateful kiss on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

He pulled her close, his hand lingering at her waist while he started to leave soft kisses on his revealed shoulder.

Just as she leaned in for a kiss, a loud knock sounded at the door. They exchanged a quick, amused look before Jaemin pulled away to answer it.

At the door stood Jeno and Daeun, bundled in coats, with Jeno holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a casual grin on his face. “Finally! You two are slowpokes tonight” he teased, stepping in.

Daeun rolled her eyes, giving Jeno a playful nudge. “Says the guy who took twenty minutes deciding which wine to bring. You’re the reason we almost missed them!”

Jeno held up the bottle defensively. “Hey, this isn’t just any wine. This is a classic—goes perfectly with any dinner party. Mark and Yunhee are going to be impressed.”

Daeun scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Classic? You mean it was on sale, don’t you?”

Soyul laughed, tugging on her second heel as she stepped over to them. “You two really sound like an old married couple,” she teased, exchanging a smile with Jaemin.

Jeno shot her a look. “Better that than making everyone late because someone couldn’t find her bracelet” he retorted, grinning as Soyul playfully slapped his arm.

“Alright, alright” Daeun said with a laugh, hooking her arm through Jeno’s. “Let’s not turn this into a roast. We all know we can’t keep Mark and Yeeri waiting too long anyway—they’ve probably already started judging our punctuality.”

With a shared laugh, the four of them gathered their coats, scarves, and the wine bottle before stepping outside into the cool evening air. They walked together, arms linked or hands clasped, a relaxed rhythm to their steps as they strolled toward Mark and Yeeri’s place just a few blocks away.

As they walked, Daeun nudged Jeno’s shoulder, a mischievous smile on her face. “So, what other fancy items did you look at before you settled on that bottle?”

Jeno rolled his eyes, pretending to think. “Well, I did consider that other ‘vintage’ blend—super exclusive, and only double the price.”

The group laughed, Jaemin shaking his head. “Guess we should be grateful we got a sale-priced classic instead. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll actually taste good.”

“Hey!” Jeno protested, putting on a wounded expression as they turned onto Mark and Yeeri’s street. “One day you’ll all appreciate my refined taste.”

With another round of laughter, the group finally arrived at the doorstep, feeling light and happy as they prepared for the night ahead.

Mark stirred the sauce simmering on the stove, adding a pinch more basil as Yunhee sliced fresh herbs beside him. The kitchen was filled with the rich aromas of their cooking, and they exchanged small smiles as they worked in comfortable rhythm.

The doorbell rang, and Yunhee glanced at the clock. “Someone’s early” she murmured, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked to the door.

She opened it to find Renjun standing there, a small box of pastries balanced in his hands and an easy smile on his face. “Brought dessert” he announced, stepping inside as she welcomed him with a warm hug.

“You’re a lifesaver” she said, guiding him into the kitchen. “Mark was worried I might have to make my own pastries, and we all know how that would’ve turned out.”

Mark raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I was all for a backup plan. Just didn’t want the dessert to be… a learning experience.”

Renjun laughed, setting the pastries on the counter. “Well, I’m here to save the day.“

Yunhee smirked, giving a glass of wine to the boy, catching Mark’s amused glance. “So…Junnie, let’s talk about you little love life mh? I’ve been trying to introduce you to my friend Hana, and you bailed out the last time I invited you two to coffee. You’ve got to give her a chance—she’s perfect for you!”

Renjun shook his head, chuckling. “Perfect, huh? Yunhee, i know she’s probably nice, but it just… didn’t feel right. Plus, you know I’m terrible with setups. I’d rather meet someone by chance, not like it’s an appointment.”

Mark chuckled, nodding in agreement. “C’mon baby he’s right, quit playing cupid and let him enjoy his freedom while he still can”

Yunhee raised her eyebrows looking at her fiancé. “Markie what do you mean by that mh?”

The latter was quick to shake his head. “Nothing, my love, of course.”

The three of them started to laugh before Yunhee leaned back against the counter, smirking. “Alright, enough about Renjun’s future. What do we think about Chenle’s mystery date tonight? He’s been so secretive.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “I’m betting she’s someone new around here. He wouldn’t give up any details, and it’s strange, you know how he is- always yapping about everything”

Renjun leaned against the counter too, thinking. “Well, if he’s bringing her to meet everyone, she’s got to be someone special. Or at least, someone he thinks can handle this bunch.”

Yunhee grinned. “Well, let’s hope she knows what she’s getting into. I feel like if she’s too shy, she might just make a run for it.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Jaemin’s voice called from the other side. “Hellooo, are we still welcome?”

Yunhee grinned, dashing over to let them in. Jaemin and Soyul, along with Jeno and Daeun, stood at the entrance, bundled in scarves and coats, with Jeno proudly holding the bottle of wine. They each gave hugs all around before peeling off layers, handing their coats to Yun.

“We brought wine!” Jeno announced, holding up the bottle like a prize.

“And he spent way too long picking it out” Daeun teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Jaemin smirked. “Should be glad it’s not a box of cheap beer.”

As they joined everyone in the kitchen, Soyul shot a curious look at the group. “So, we were trying to guess, what kind of girl do you think Chenle’s bringing?”

Mark crossed his arms, sighing. “Renjun thinks she’s got to be special to handle us. Otherwise, Chenle wouldn’t bother even dare to introduce her.”

Jeno shook his head, amused. “Maybe she’s just a decoy—he’s bringing her in so we don’t bother him about settling down. You know how he likes to mess with us.”

The room filled with laughter, just as another knock echoed from the door. Before Yunhee could answer, it swung open, and Haechan and Chinsun entered, both looking slightly flushed and disheveled. Haechan was grinning wide, while Chinsun scanned the room a bit embarassed before her gaze started lighting up the moment it fell on Renjun.

“Renjun!” Chinsun exclaimed, her face brightening as she hurried over to him. She wrapped him in an warm hug, her laugh light as she pulled back. “I didn’t think you’d get here before us! This is a rare sight.”

Renjun returned her smile. “Well, I had to beat you to the food somehow” he teased, feeling the slight blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Oh please” she replied with a laugh, her hand lingering on his arm for just a moment longer than necessary.

Mark and Jaemin exchanged a quick, knowing glance, amused at Chinsun’s enthusiasm. Haechan, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow at her, his usual playful smirk returning as he slipped an arm around her waist. “Careful, baby—you’re making it sound like Renjun’s your date.”

Chinsun rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush. I’m just happy to see everyone. Now, what were y’all were gossiping about?”

Jaemin chuckled, nudging Haechan’s shoulder. “We were actually placing bets on whether you’d show up at all. Or if you’d just call it a night in the car.”

Haechan feigned offense, crossing his arms. “Excuse me, we’re responsible adults. We’d never show up late… without a good reason.”

Yunhee shot him a playful glare, giving him a light slap on the arm. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

Haechan grinned at her. “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t love me any other way.”

The group laughed, and as everyone settled into the cozy kitchen, the talk naturally returned to Chenle’s mystery date.

“Knowing Chenle, he’s probably picked someone who can throw some shade right back at him,” Jaemin said thoughtfully. “He’d get bored with anyone who can’t keep up with his jokes.”

Daeun raised her glass. “That’s why I’m hoping she’s someone who’ll make Chenle nervous for a change.”

“Or someone who’ll give us a good story,” Haechan added with a smirk. “I don’t know, I’m expecting something outrageous.”

Yunhee raised an eyebrow at him. “Be nice. Don’t make her feel like she’s on trial.”

Haechan grinned, unfazed. “Come on, Yunhee, we’re all curious. Besides, isn’t it what else are friends for?”

With laughter and glasses raised, the group settled into the easy flow of conversation, waiting to see just what surprises the night would bring.

The kitchen buzzed with chatter as Mark, Yunhee and their friends huddled around, everyone passing theories back and forth about Chenle’s mystery date. Glasses clinked as Haechan cracked one last joke.

Just then the doorbell rang, and in an instant, the group went quiet, eyes widening. Soyul clutched Jaemin’s arm, and Daeun leaned forward, excitement lighting up her face.

“Alright, moment of truth!” Jeno whispered.

Yunhee looked Mark. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go answer it!”

With an amused grin, the said boy made his way to the door, the rest of the group following closely behind him, crowding together as if each wanted to be the first to lay eyes on Chenle’s mystery girl. Mark took a deep breath, adding to the suspense, before pulling open the door with a dramatic flourish.

But standing on the doorstep, looking slightly taken aback by the crowd gathered in the doorway, there was Chenle—completely and utterly alone, with only a bottle of whiskey in hand.

“Hey, everyone!” he said, smiling and giving a small wave.

An exaggerated groan came from Haechan as he dramatically slapped his forehead. “Chenle, are you serious? I’ve been holding my breath here!”

Daeun put her hands on her hips, her expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “Just you?”

Chenle looked around, his gaze moving from one disappointed face to another. “Whoa, did I walk into some kind of intervention? What’s with the whole welcoming committee?”

Yunhee stepped forward, unable to hold back a chuckle. She gave him a warm hug, patting his back with a sigh. “We thought you’d be bringing someone special! Don’t tell me you left us hanging on purpose?”

Chenle chuckled, hugging her back. “Hey, it’s not like I planned this just to mess with you all!”

“Could’ve fooled us” Jaemin teased, crossing his arms. “With all that build-up, we thought you were finally bringing your big mystery girl.”

Chenle sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright—let me explain. I was supposed to bring someone. Her name’s Jiul, but she came down with a fever this afternoon. She really wanted to come, but she could barely get out of bed.”

“Right…” Haechan raised an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. “And I’m supposed to believe you’re not just making up some imaginary girlfriend because you love a good mystery?”

Chenle snorted, rolling his eyes. “I swear, Haechan, she’s not imaginary. I might be dramatic, but even I wouldn’t go that far!”

Daeun let out a soft laugh and stepped forward, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “We were all looking forward to meeting her, you know. Poor girl—she doesn’t know what she’s in for if she’s dating you.”

Chenle shrugged, giving her a grin. “Well, you’ll meet her soon enough. Trust me, if she’d known you were all waiting at the door like this, she might’ve dragged herself over just to avoid becoming a ghost story.”

“Next time, Chenle,” Soyul added, giving him a quick, warm hug. “You’re bringing her, no excuses.”

Chenle raised his hands in surrender. “Deal, deal! I’ll bring her next time. Just don’t scare her off before I get the chance to introduce her, okay?”

Finally stepping aside from the crowd Mark took the bottle of whiskey, reading the label with an approving nod. “This, at least, is impressive. It’s like you read my mind.”

“Well, figured I’d make up for the lack of a plus-one,” Chenle said with a shrug, grinning as he accepted a glass from Yunhee. “Besides, you all don’t need my dating life as your only form of entertainment. I’m sure Haechan’s got plenty of wild stories to share tonight.”

The group laughed, and Haechan flashed a cocky grin. “I always bring the entertainment, Chenle. But I’ll give you a break—this time.”

Once the group had gathered back in the kitchen, Haechan leaning comfortably against the counter, Jaemin shot Chenle a curious look. “Alright, now that you’re here and Jiul’s off the hook for tonight, you’ve got to tell us a bit more about her.”

“Yeah,” Mark chimed in, raising an eyebrow with a half-smile. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet about this girl.”

Chenle leaned against the counter, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a sip of his drink. “Well, you all know how I like to keep things interesting. But let’s just say Jiul’s… different. She’s got this thing where she somehow manages to keep up with my jokes, even throw them back at me. That’s rare.”

Jaemin raised his glass, nodding. “Sounds like she’s got your number already.”

“Oh, trust me,” Chenle said with a chuckle. “She’s more than capable of keeping me on my toes. She’s a bit quiet at first, but once she opens up…” He paused, shaking his head with a smile. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

Mark leaned back, folding his arms. “Quiet, huh? Think she’ll be able to handle this crew?”

Chenle shrugged, his grin widening. “Guess we’ll have to find out. But if she can survive meeting all of you, I’ll take it as a good sign.”

Haechan snorted, looking amused. “Well, as long as she knows she’s dating the most mysterious guy in town.”

Chenle chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright—keep the mystery jokes coming. But I’m serious, you’ll all meet her soon enough.”

Just then, Yunhee lifted her glass. “To Jiul’s speedy recovery. And to finally meeting the mystery woman next time!”

The group slowly moved toward the dining table, carrying their drinks and chatting animatedly. Haechan, true to form, was already throwing out playful remarks as he trailed behind Chinsun, who was straightening her hair after the rush to get there.

“Alright, everyone, let’s get this dinner started before Soyul’s cats call animal services on Jaemin for neglect” he teased, earning a laugh from Soyul and a glare from Jaemin.

Jaemin waved him off, grumbling under his breath. “They’re perfectly fine. And unlike you, Haechan, they actually like me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Haechan fired back with a smirk as he pulled out a chair for Chinsun, who patted his cheek as if rewarding a child for good behavior.

“Sit down and behave,” she said lightly, though her grin gave away her amusement.

Once everyone was seated, the conversation shifted to updates on their lives.

“How’s the clinic been, Chinsun?” Yunhee asked, passing the bread basket.

“Busy but good” Chinsun replied. “We’ve had a lot of emergency cases this week—mostly dogs who think eating socks is a fun challenge.”

“That’s because it is” Haechan quipped. “If I were a dog, I’d totally try it.”

Renjun shook his head with a laugh. “You’ve got the mindset for it, I’ll give you that.”

“What about you, Mark?” Jeno asked. “Still reshaping faces for a living?”

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, the clinic’s been crazy. But you’d be surprised how many people don’t realize they can’t heal overnight. I had a patient last week who wanted to run a marathon a day after rhinoplasty.”

“She didn’t!” Soyul gasped.

“Oh, she did” Mark said, nodding solemnly. “We had to convince her that, no, her nose would not stay on her face if she ran 42 kilometers.”

The group burst into laughter, and Daeun added, “I feel like your job is part surgery, part babysitting.”

Yunhee smiled knowingly. “It’s pretty similar to therapy sometimes, too. People want a quick fix without doing the real work.”

As the laughter ebbed, Renjun glanced at the clock on the wall. “By the way, is anyone planning to watch the eclipse tonight? It’s supposed to peak in an hour or so.”

Yunhee’s face lit up. “That’s the whole point of tonight’s dinner! Mark and I thought it’d be nice to make an event of it. Food, drinks, and a cosmic show.”

Jaemin raised a hand as if in mock protest. “Wait, I thought Chenle’s mystery girlfriend was the real purpose of tonight.”

The table broke into another round of laughter as Chenle groaned, sinking dramatically in his chair. “I’ll never live this down, will I?”

“Not a chance” Daeun replied with a grin.

Chinsun leaned forward, seizing the moment to ask “ So, Soyul, how are the cats doing? I saw your latest post, and they looked so adorable!” Chinsun asked with genuine excitement, clasping her hands together.

Soyul’s face lit up. “Oh, they’re doing amazing! Luna just learned how to open the treat drawer, so I’ve basically lost control of my kitchen. And Minho—well, he’s still his lazy self, lounging around like he’s royalty.”

Jaemin groaned, leaning back in his chair. “I swear, those two get more attention than I do.”

“You’re not wrong” Soyul teased, her grin widening. “But can you blame me? They’re perfect.”

“Perfectly spoiled” Jaemin muttered, though his soft smile betrayed his playful jealousy.

“They’re basically your children” Chinsun said, leaning forward eagerly. “It’s like having babies, isn’t it? You feed them, you worry about them, and they even wake you up in the middle of the night!”

Soyul nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! They’re like little furry toddlers.”

Yunhee chimed in, her tone reflective. “Animals really are like kids. They depend on you completely, and you get so attached. Sometimes I think having a pet is good practice for when you’re ready for the real thing.”

This comment shifted the energy at the table. A pause hung in the air before Haechan, never one to let things get too serious, leaned forward with a smirk. “Speaking of kids—how many of you are planning on having them?”

Jaemin and Jeno exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance before Jaemin replied, “Not us. At least, not anytime soon.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “Yeah, same here. We’re just… not really into the idea right now.”

Daeun looked at Jeno, her brows furrowing slightly. “I didn’t know you felt that way. We’ve never really talked about it.”

Soyul glanced at Jaemin, her lips pressing into a line. “Yeah… same here.”

Sensing the tension creeping in, Mark cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted kids. It’s just a matter of timing, I guess.”

“Same” Haechan said with a grin, reaching over to take Chinsun’s hand. “And, for the record, I think Chinsun would look absolutely stunning with a little baby bump. I mean, imagine—she’d be the cutest mom ever.”

Chinsun’s cheeks flushed as she swatted him lightly. “Haechan! Don’t start embarrassing me.”

“I’m just speaking the truth” Haechan said, leaning back smugly. “You’d glow, babe. Like, literally.”

The group laughed, the tension easing as the conversation drifted back into lighter territory.

“You’d glow because you’d be sweating from how much work it is,” Chenle quipped, leaning back with a smug grin. “Honestly, I don’t get the whole ‘having kids’ thing. Everyone acts like it’s the ultimate goal, but let’s be real—it’s not like having a child completes your life or anything.”

His comment drew a mix of reactions. Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, while Yunhee’s eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. Soyul and Daeun exchanged surprised glances, and Mark simply sipped his wine, waiting to see where the conversation would go.

It was Renjun who spoke first, his voice calm but firm. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? Just because it’s not something you want doesn’t mean it’s not meaningful for other people.”

Chenle shrugged. “I’m not saying people shouldn’t have kids. I’m just saying the idea that you need them to live a fulfilling life is outdated. Look at me—I’m perfectly happy without any of that responsibility weighing me down.”

Renjun leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “But don’t you think there’s value in building something that lasts? Kids aren’t just about fulfilling some societal expectation—they’re about connection, legacy, and love.”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Legacy? Love? I don’t need a tiny version of me running around to prove I can leave a mark on the world.”

“Maybe,” Renjun countered, his tone softening slightly, “but having a child isn’t just about leaving a mark. It’s about giving a piece of yourself to someone else and watching them grow into their own person. It’s about creating a bond that’s unlike anything else.”

Chinsun nodded in agreement, her expression warm as she looked at Renjun. “That’s a beautiful way to put it. I’ve always thought that raising a child could be one of the most rewarding things you can do.”

“Exactly,” Renjun said, his gaze still on Chenle. “It’s not for everyone, sure. But it’s not just about completing your life—it’s about enriching theirs, too.”

Chenle rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. “Alright, alright, Mr. Philosopher. You’ve made your point. But I’m sticking to my no-kid policy, thanks.”

“Wow” Yunhee said, glancing at Chenle with mock disapproval. “Remind me not to leave you alone with my hypothetical children.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to” Chenle said with a grin.

The laughter around the table eventually simmered as the conversation drifted into quieter territory. It was Renjun who broke the lull with a sigh. “Did anyone hear about Jaehyun? Poor guy’s been through it lately.”

Mark glanced up from his drink, frowning. “Yeah, I did. He found out his girlfriend was cheating, right?”

“Found out by accident, too” Renjun added. “Apparently, he glanced at her phone while she was showing him something, and bam—texts from another guy. Can you imagine?”

“Honestly, that’s the worst,” Daeun said, shaking her head. “Not just the cheating but finding out like that. It must’ve been a punch to the gut.”

Chenle leaned back with a sympathetic smirk. “It’s like phones have become the black box of our lives. They hold all the secrets, good and bad.”

Mark nodded thoughtfully, swirling his wine glass. “It’s true, though. Our phones probably know more about us than the people closest to us. Messages, emails, photos, bank details… even things we don’t consciously remember. It’s like a digital diary we forget to lock.”

“Or a digital Pandora’s box” Jaemin said, earning murmurs of agreement around the table.

Yunhee, who had been listening intently, suddenly leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You know… this reminds me of something I saw in a movie recently. What if we played a game?”

The table perked up at the word game.

“What kind of game?” Haechan asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Yunhee grinned. “Everyone puts their phones on the table for the entire night. Any texts, calls, or notifications that come in—we share them with the group. We read the messages aloud, listen to the calls on speaker, everything. Total transparency.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the idea hanging in the air like an unspoken dare.

“That sounds…” Jeno began, his brow furrowing. “… invasive.”

“And unnecessary” Mark added quickly, his discomfort evident.

Haechan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I’m not sure I’m on board with that. It’s not that I have anything to hide, but…”

“But what?” Chinsun cut in, her tone teasing as she raised an eyebrow. “Afraid we’ll find out about your secret second family or something?”

Haechan pointed a finger at her, feigning offense. “Don’t start, babe. My life’s an open book. It’s just—do we really need to dig into each other’s phones to have a good time?”

“I agree” Jeno said, leaning back in his chair. “Privacy is important. It’s not about having secrets—it’s about boundaries.”

Jaemin, however, couldn’t resist poking fun at his friend. “Sounds like you’ve got something to hide, Jeno. What’s in there? A secret Candy Crush addiction?”

Jeno shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “Don’t start, Jaemin. Unlike you, I don’t feel the need to broadcast my entire life to everyone.”

The tension between them sparked briefly before Renjun jumped in with a soothing tone. “Come on, it’s just a game. It doesn’t have to mean anything. If we’re all good friends, what’s there to worry about? It’s not like anyone here is hiding anything serious… right?”

Renjun’s words hung in the air, and one by one, the group exchanged hesitant glances.

“Fine” Mark sighed, clearly resigned. “If everyone’s doing it, I’ll do it too.”

Haechan groaned dramatically. “This is peer pressure. I hope you all know that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes” Chinsun said with a grin, sliding her phone onto the table.

Jeno hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin line, but Daeun nudged him playfully. “Come on, Jeno. Live a little.”

With a resigned huff, Jeno placed his phone down next to Chinsun’s, muttering something under his breath about regretting this later.

Finally, one by one, everyone added their phones to the pile in the center of the table.

“There” Yunhee said with a satisfied smile. “Now we’re all on equal footing. Let’s see who’s brave enough to go first when something comes in.”

Before anyone could respond, Soyul glanced toward the window, her eyes widening. “Hey! The eclipse is starting!”

The group immediately stood, wine glasses in hand, and moved to the balcony to watch the celestial event unfold.

The moon hung low in the sky, its bright silver glow slowly dimming as the Earth’s shadow crept across its surface. The conversation quieted as they all gazed upward, the air filled with a rare sense of awe and tranquility.

“Is it just me, or does everything feel… surreal right now?” Daeun murmured, leaning against Jeno.

“It’s not just you,” Jaemin replied, his voice softer than usual.

As the shadow consumed more of the moon, Haechan broke the silence with a playful nudge at Chenle. “So, Chenle, is this where your mystery girlfriend was supposed to make a grand entrance? Under the moonlight?”

Chenle rolled his eyes, but his smirk betrayed his amusement. “Very funny. I think I’ll enjoy the moon more without any distractions, thanks.”

Mark chuckled. “Let’s just hope this night doesn’t turn into an eclipse of our friendships once the phones start buzzing.”

The group laughed lightly, the tension from earlier melting into the cool night air.

The group slowly made their way back to the dining room, the warm light inside contrasting with the cool, dark night outside. They settled into their seats once again, still buzzing from the beauty of the eclipse. Glasses were refilled, and the conversation naturally shifted to lighter, nostalgic topics as they relaxed into the evening.

“You know,” Haechan began, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin, “we’ve all grown up so much, but let’s not forget—I used to be the king of our little circle back in the day.”

“Oh, here we go” Mark muttered, rolling his eyes with a smile.

“No, no, let him cook.” Jaemin said, laughing as he folded his arms. “I wanna hear this version of history.”

“I was the guy” Haechan continued dramatically, ignoring the interruptions. “The life of every party. The charmer. The—”

“The biggest headache” Mark interjected with a snort.

“That, too.” Renjun chimed in, grinning. “Remember how many times we had to cover for you when you’d ghost some poor girl at a party?”

Haechan feigned offense, placing a hand on his chest. “Excuse me, ghosting is such a strong word. I simply… diversified my options.”

“Diversified?” Chinsun repeated with a raised eyebrow. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.”

“‘Stuck’ is the wrong word” Haechan said smoothly, slipping his arm around her. “I’d say I retired from the game because I found my MVP.”

The table groaned collectively at his cheesy line, but Chinsun blushed nonetheless.

“You weren’t the only one with ‘game,’ though” Renjun said, turning to Jaemin. “Mr. Cool over here wasn’t too bad himself.”

Jaemin smirked, shrugging casually. “What can I say? Some of us don’t need to try too hard.”

“Please” Jeno scoffed, shaking his head. “The only reason you didn’t need to try too hard was because I was always stuck as your wingman. And let me tell you, your success came at my expense more times than I can count.”

Jaemin laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. But hey, it all worked out, right? We ended up with the two best friends. Perfect symmetry.”

Soyul and Daeun exchanged a knowing glance, their eyebrows raised. “And you two don’t find that a little suspicious?” Soyul teased.

“Not at all” Jaemin said confidently, draping an arm around Soyul’s chair. “It’s destiny. A natural alignment of the stars.”

“You mean of the drinks” Daeun joked, nudging Jeno playfully. “I’m pretty sure destiny was just a lot of late-night outings and bad pick-up lines.”

“You wound me” Jeno said, placing a hand over his heart in mock pain.

“And then there’s Mark and Renjun” Haechan said, pointing his fork at them with a mischievous grin. “Our very own nerd squad.”

“Hey!” Mark and Renjun protested in unison, drawing laughter from everyone else.

“It’s true” Haechan insisted, leaning forward. “These two were impossible to drag out. Mark was always studying or working on some project, and Renjun was, what, painting or reading about obscure history?”

“Excuse me” Renjun said with mock indignation, “I had a social life.”

“Sure” Haechan teased, “as long as it involved trivia nights or art galleries.”

Mark laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, fine, we weren’t exactly the party animals of the group. But we had our moments.”

“‘Moments,’” Haechan echoed, grinning. “Like when I had to physically drag you to that one party because you refused to leave your textbook?”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Mark protested. “It was finals week, and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“That’s because Yunhee begged me to bring you out” Haechan said, smirking. “She had the biggest crush on you.”

Yunhee blushed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Did you have to tell everyone that?”

“Come on, it’s cute!” Haechan said, laughing.

“It was also embarrassing,” Yunhee admitted, shaking her head. “I was into this guy who barely noticed me unless we were talking about something academic. And when he did come to parties, he just stood in the corner with a drink, looking like he wanted to go home.”

Mark chuckled sheepishly. “I wasn’t exactly the most social person back then.”

“You weren’t social at all,” Yunhee teased. “But I guess it worked out in the end.”

“Meanwhile,” Chenle cut in, grinning, “I was the reason we even had parties to talk about. Admit it—my house was the spot.”

“Oh, absolutely” Jaemin said. “Your parties were legendary.”

“Legendary is putting it lightly” Renjun added. “Remember that Halloween party where someone brought a fog machine and accidentally set off the fire alarm?”

Chenle laughed, his eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, and we all had to evacuate in full costumes. I’ll never forget Haechan running outside in his inflatable dinosaur suit.”

“It was the look of the night.” Haechan said proudly.

The girls listened intently as the guys reminisced, chiming in occasionally with laughter or disbelief.

“And the Christmas party where Mark fell asleep on the couch because he had too much of Chenle’s grandpa gin?” Jaemin added.

“Classic” Haechan said, shaking his head.

“I was tired” Mark defended, though his grin gave him away.

The stories flowed easily, filling the room with warmth and nostalgia as they recounted their wild, carefree days. Each memory was met with laughter, teasing, and the occasional exaggerated retelling, the bonds between them growing all the more evident with every shared anecdote.

As the laughter from their previous conversation subsided, a distinct ping rang out in the room, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Who’s the lucky first?” Haechan asked, grinning mischievously as he leaned forward.

Renjun, sitting at the far end of the table, pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. His expression didn’t change much, but the way he hesitated to speak piqued everyone’s curiosity.

“Well?” Yunhee prompted, her eyes narrowing playfully. “What is it? Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“It’s nothing” Renjun said, placing his phone face down on the table.

“Oh no, you don’t get to say ‘nothing,’” Haechan teased, reaching across the table as though to snatch the phone. Renjun was faster, pulling it away with a smirk.

“It’s not even interesting” Renjun assured them. “Just some random promotion for the bar under my apartment.”

The table erupted into groans and laughter, with Haechan being the loudest. “A bar promotion? That’s the first notification of the night? Renjun, man, you’re supposed to give us something juicy!”

“What do you want me to do?!” Renjun said, feigning indignation. “It’s not like I control who texts me. And besides, maybe this is a sign I need to go out more.”

“Or,” Haechan said, leaning back with a grin, “it’s a sign that the highlight of your social life is your landlord’s weekly happy hour.”

Renjun threw a balled-up napkin at him, which Haechan caught midair. “Better a bar promotion than whatever spam texts you’re probably getting” Renjun retorted.

“Touché” Haechan admitted, laughing.

The conversation resumed, glasses were raised, and a few jokes flew across the table. Just as things began to settle, though, a chorus of pings echoed through the room, drawing everyone’s attention again.

This time, it wasn’t just one phone.

Mark, Jeno, Chenle, Renjun and Haechan all glanced down at their screens at the same time.

“Okay, what the hell?” Jaemin asked, his tone half-joking but tinged with genuine confusion. “Is there some group chat I’m not part of?”

“No” Mark said quickly, his brow furrowing as he read his message. “It’s just a basketball thing.”

“Yeah” Jeno added, glancing at Jaemin with a sheepish smile. “Johnny’s organizing a game next weekend.”

“Basketball?” Jaemin repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Why didn’t I get this message?”

The other guys exchanged quick, awkward looks. “It’s not a big deal” Chenle said, shrugging. “Maybe Johnny forgot to add you?”

“Forgot?” Jaemin said, his eyebrows shooting up. “I mean, I get it—I’m not the greatest player. But even Renjun was invited! And he doesn’t even play!”

Renjun, who had been quietly sipping his drink, nearly choked. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like” Jaemin shot back, his arms crossed. “You’ve never even held a basketball, and somehow, you get an invite over me?”

“Okay, first of all” Renjun said, setting his glass down, “you don’t have to attack me just because Johnny doesn’t think you can dunk.”

The table broke into laughter, though Jaemin didn’t look entirely amused.

“Come on, Jaem” Haechan said, clapping his hands. “It’s not personal. Maybe Johnny just assumed you’d be busy or something.”

“Yeah” Mark added, though his voice lacked conviction. “It’s probably just an oversight.”

“An oversight” Jaemin repeated flatly, leaning back in his chair. “Right.”

Sensing the tension, Soyul reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Jaemin. You don’t even like playing basketball that much.”

“That’s not the point” Jaemin muttered, moving away from her touch.

Daeun nodded in agreement, her voice soothing. “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. Why don’t you talk to Johnny about it? I’m sure he didn’t mean to exclude you.”

Jaemin exhaled sharply but nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

Jeno, who had been unusually quiet, cleared his throat. “Hey, Jaem. Shall we go get that my bottle of wine?”

Jaemin glanced at him, confused about the timing, then shrugged. “Sure.”

The two of them got up and moved to the kitchen, leaving the others to continue chatting.

Jeno hesitated before speaking, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, about the basketball thing… it wasn’t really my call. Johnny’s the one who made the list.”

“Johnny,” Jaemin repeated, his tone skeptical.

“Yeah” Jeno said quickly. “I swear, I didn’t even know he was putting it together until I got the text. If I’d known, I would’ve made sure you were invited.”

Jaemin stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal, I guess. It’s just—”

“You feel left out” Jeno finished for him, his voice soft.

Jaemin nodded, his posture relaxing slightly. “Yeah. I mean, we’re supposed to be friends, right?”

“Of course we are.” Jeno said firmly. “And I’ll talk to Johnny about it, okay? You should’ve been on that list, no question.”

Jaemin looked at him for a moment longer, then smiled. “Thanks, man, you know me better than anyone.”

“Of course.” Jeno said, clapping him on the shoulder.

The two of them returned to the table, the tension already resolved. As they sat down, Chenle was in the middle of recounting one of his party stories, the laughter and energy of the group pulling them back into the warmth of the evening.

The conversation inside the house had mellowed into a cozy rhythm, everyone sharing their thoughts on recent movies and books.

“Did anyone see that new space thriller? The one with the impossible black hole scene?” Renjun asked, setting his glass down.

“Yeah, and it was painfully unrealistic,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “They really expect us to believe the ship survived that?”

“It’s science fiction” Soyul chimed in. “You’re supposed to suspend disbelief. Besides, the emotional storyline carried it.”

“Emotional?” Haechan leaned back in his chair. “You’re telling me crying in zero gravity makes up for ignoring basic physics?”

“Only you would care about physics in a movie” Daeun teased.

“Fine, maybe it’s not for me” Haechan replied with mock offense. He finished his drink and stood up with a stretch. “On that note, I’m calling a cigarette break. Chenle?”

“Yeah, why not” Chenle said, getting up as well.

The two exited to the balcony, Haechan sliding the glass door shut behind them. The cold air hit them immediately, but Haechan seemed unbothered as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. After taking a long drag, he passed the lighter to Chenle, who mirrored his actions.

For a moment, they stood in silence, looking out at the city lights.

Chenle broke the quiet. “Alright, you’re acting weird. What’s up?”

Haechan hesitated, flicking ash off the edge of the balcony. “I need a favor” he finally said.

Chenle turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “From me? That’s rare. What kind of favor?”

Haechan glanced at the door to ensure no one was listening. “I need to switch phones with you. Just for a little while.”

Chenle blinked, taken aback. “What? Why?”

“Because” Haechan said, lowering his voice further, “someone’s going to send me a picture in about half an hour, and… let’s just say it’s better if Chinsun doesn’t see it.”

Chenle stared at him, cigarette paused mid-air. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” Haechan replied, taking another drag.

Chenle leaned against the railing, his expression growing more incredulous by the second. “What kind of picture are we talking about here?”

“You know.” Haechan said, his tone evasive.

Chenle gave him a flat look. “Haechan. What kind of picture?”

“A… personal one,” Haechan muttered, his gaze fixed on the glowing tip of his cigarette.

Chenle groaned, rubbing his temple. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re risking everything with that girl over nudes?”

“Shhh!” Haechan hissed, waving his hands in panic. “Keep your voice down!”

Chenle sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke. “Unbelievable. Who is she?”

Haechan hesitated again, shifting uncomfortably.

“Don’t tell me…” Chenle said, his tone sharpening as realization dawned. “It’s Mark’s sister, isn’t it?”

Haechan didn’t respond immediately, but the small, mischievous grin that crept onto his face was answer enough.

Chenle groaned louder this time, throwing his hands up. “You’re out of your mind! If Mark finds out, you’re dead.”

“He’s not going to find out” Haechan said confidently. “We’re discreet. Besides, she’s the one sending the picture, not me.”

“Wow, what a great excuse,” Chenle said sarcastically. “Do you even hear yourself? This is a terrible idea.”

“Look” Haechan said, leaning closer, “She’s always had a little thing for me, you know that.”

“That doesn’t mean you should encourage it!” Chenle scolded. “Mark is one of your best friends. How do you think he’d feel about you messing with his sister?”

“I’m not messing with her” Haechan argued.

Chenle stared at him, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Please, Chenle.” Haechan said, his tone shifting to one of genuine desperation. “I’m begging you. Just this once. It’s harmless, I swear.”

Chenle hesitated, clearly torn. He took one last drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the ashtray. “This is such a bad idea, I’m telling you” he said finally. “But fine. I’ll help you. Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t” Haechan said, relief washing over him. “Thank you, man. I owe you.”

Chenle rolled his eyes as he turned to slide the door open. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, when this blows up in your face, I told you so.”

As Chenle stepped back inside, leaving the door ajar, Haechan stayed behind, staring out at the city with a mix of relief and unease. He took one last puff of his cigarette before letting it die, his thoughts racing as he trued to convince himself that everything would work out.

The air inside had warmed considerably, filled with the clinking of glasses, faint laughter, and the soft hum of conversation. Most of the group had gravitated toward the kitchen, where Mark and Yunhee busily orchestrated the next course. Renjun and Chinsun, however, remained in the living room, seated comfortably on their seats, engaged in a quiet conversation.

“You’ve always been good with people,” Chinsun said with a warm smile, her gaze steady on Renjun. “It’s no wonder the kids in your music workshops like you so much.”

Renjun rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I think it’s less about me and more about music. Kids just need a way to express themselves, you know?”

Chinsun leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “It’s still a talent, though. Not everyone has that ability to connect.”

Just then, the balcony door slid open, and Haechan stepped back inside, brushing the cold air off his sleeves. He immediately caught sight of the scene and quirked an eyebrow.

“Wow, you two look cozy” Haechan said, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorway. “Should I be worried?”

Chinsun didn’t even flinch, rolling her eyes as she turned toward him. “Shut up, Haechan” she said, a hint of exasperation in her tone.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he replied with an exaggerated shrug, though his eyes lingered a little longer on Renjun before he finally walked past them into the kitchen.

And before this, without being noticed (or so he thought) he successfully switched phones with Chenle.

Daeun and Soyul stood near the counter, half-hidden behind a column, their glasses in hand. From their vantage point, they had a clear view of Haechan’s expression as he glanced over at Chinsun and Renjun.

“Did you see that?” Daeun whispered, tilting her head toward the living room.

Soyul smirked, her lips barely moving. “He’s so jealous, it’s almost funny.”

Daeun narrowed her eyes slightly. “Do you think Chinsun has a thing for Renjun?”

Soyul shook her head after a moment’s thought. “No way. She’s just naturally warm with everyone. And let’s be honest—Renjun is so clueless about stuff like that.”

Daeun chuckled. “True. And Haechan’s possessiveness is basically part of his personality. Still, it’s kind of cute, jealousy looks good on him”

Their quiet observations were interrupted as the others began filtering back into the kitchen. Plates and trays were passed around, Mark working diligently to ensure everything was perfect for the meal. The room buzzed with chatter about favorite dishes, the best way to cook steak, and Mark’s secret marinade recipe.

Once everyone returned to the dining table, the conversation shifted to lighter topics.

Mark, ever the gracious host, served up plates of food while Yunhee teased him about his near-obsessive attention to detail.

“So, Mark,” Jaemin said, leaning back in his chair. “You really could’ve been a chef. Why didn’t you go for it?”

Mark shrugged modestly. “Cooking’s a hobby. Turning it into a career might’ve taken the fun out of it.”

Yunhee rolled her eyes playfully. “Please, he says that, but he’d probably be a world-famous chef by now if he tried.”

Renjun chimed in, “Honestly, Mark, you should start a cooking blog or something. Share your recipes with the world.”

“Then we’d lose the exclusivity,” Soyul interjected with a grin. “I don’t want everyone knowing Mark’s secrets.”

The group laughed, the energy light and playful—until a phone buzzed loudly on the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

The phone’s screen lit up, displaying the name Monique.

All eyes turned to Chenle, whose “phone” sat innocently on the table.

Chenle stiffened immediately, his hand darting out to grab the phone. “Nothing to see here” he said quickly, trying to play it off.

But Yunhee was faster. “Wait a second” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Monique? Isn’t that Mark’s sister?”

A collective gasp rippled through the table. Haechan froze, his face carefully blank as he avoided looking directly at anyone.

Chenle glanced briefly at Haechan, his expression screaming help me, but Haechan offered no assistance. With a deep breath, Chenle forced a sheepish grin. “Yeah, um… we’ve been reconnecting lately.”

“Reconnecting?” Mark repeated, his voice low and skeptical. His fork paused mid-air, his knuckles tightening slightly.

Jaemin leaned forward, grinning like a kid about to witness chaos. “Open the message, Chenle. Let’s see what she sent.”

“Jaemin!” Daeun scolded, though her curiosity was just as evident in her eyes.

Chenle hesitated, clearly torn. But under the weight of everyone’s stares, he reluctantly unlocked the phone and opened the message. His face went beet red as he saw the photo: a sultry, carefully posed picture of Mark’s sister.

“Whoa” he breathed, his eyes wide with shock.

Immediately, Jaemin and Renjun crowded around to see, while Soyul and Daeun leaned over curiously. Yunhee covered her mouth, stifling a gasp.

“Chenle.” Mark snapped, his tone sharp. “How long has this been going on?”

“Just… a few months” Chenle said weakly, shrinking under Mark’s glare.

“And how long were you planning on keeping this from me?” Mark demanded, his voice rising.

Before Chenle could answer, Daeun interjected, “What about Jiul? Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

Chenle opened his mouth, floundering for an answer, when Haechan finally spoke up.

“Look, the guy finally has some game” Haechan said, his tone breezy as he leaned back in his chair. “Can we give him a little credit?”

The comment earned a mixture of gasps and laughter, though Mark’s expression remained stormy. Yunhee, however, was quick to step in.

“Mark, relax” she said firmly. “Your sister’s an adult. Let her live her life.”

Mark muttered something under his breath, but he reluctantly leaned back in his chair, though his jaw remained tight.

Chenle, meanwhile, shot a glare at Haechan, who merely smirked back at him, clearly unbothered by the chaos he’d created.

Moments later Chinsun glanced at his watch, his expression shifting to one of excitement. “Hey, it’s time! The full eclipse should be happening right now.”

Everyone murmured in agreement, standing up from their chairs and moving toward the balcony once more. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the moon now completely cloaked in shadow, casting an eerie, beautiful darkness across the sky.

Mark leaned against the railing, gazing up at the celestial phenomenon. “It’s incredible,” he said, his voice quiet but reflective. “The moon’s always there, but we only ever see one side of it. This is one of those rare times the shadow makes it feel… complete.”

Renjun nodded, equally captivated by the view. “It’s like the earth is revealing its own truth. The light we always chase is just an illusion. It’s the shadows that really show us who we are.”

“Leave it to you two philosophers to turn a pretty moon into an existential crisis” Jaemin joked, breaking the momentary silence.

The group chuckled, and Chinsun, inspired by the occasion, clapped her hands together. “This is too good to miss! Let’s take a photo.”

Everyone gathered around her, smiling and adjusting their positions. “Chenle, here” she said, handing him her phone. “You’ve got long arms—take the picture.”

Chenle took the phone with a grin. “Alright, everyone squeeze in. Ready? One, two—”

A sudden notification interrupted him, a message popping up at the top of the screen:

Sunghoon: Hi.

The screen glowed with the name, drawing a moment of awkward silence as everyone caught sight of it.

“Who’s Sunghoon?” Chenle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, who’s that?” Daeun chimed in, her curiosity piqued.

Haechan, standing just behind Chinsun, stiffened immediately. His voice turned sharp as he asked“What the fuck does he want now?”

Chinsun waved it off, her tone casual but her expression betraying her discomfort. “No one important. Let’s just take the picture.”

Chenle glanced at her skeptically but lifted the phone again. “Alright, where were we? One, two—”

Another message popped up.

Sunghoon: I need you.

The group fell silent again, the tension palpable. Haechan didn’t hesitate this time. He stepped forward, snatching the phone from Chenle’s hand.

“Why the fuck is he texting you this shit?” Haechan’s voice was low but seething, his jaw tight as he looked directly at Chinsun.

Chinsun took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice calm. “He’s been texting me for two weeks now, but I haven’t responded to him at all. You know how much my last relationship broke me. How could you even think I’d entertain this?”

Haechan’s glare didn’t waver. “Oh, please. We all know Sunghoon thinks he’s some kind of hotshot. Does he still have that stupid haircut that you liked so much?”

“Haechan” she snapped, her patience wearing thin. “That’s not the point.”

The group began to shuffle uncomfortably as the argument escalated.

“If you don’t believe me” Chinsun said, her voice firm now, “then call him. Ask him yourself.”

“I don’t need to hear you two flirting” Haechan spat, his tone laced with venom. “Thank you very much.”

The insult stung, and Chinsun’s expression hardened as she yanked her phone back from his grip. Haechan turned away abruptly, grabbing another glass of wine from the table and downing half of it in one go.

Chenle, hesitant but concerned, stepped in. “Maybe you should hear her out first, man—”

“Shut up, Chenle.” Haechan snapped, his words cutting.

Mark, now visibly annoyed, intervened. He reached over and took the wine glass from Haechan’s hand. “That’s enough” he said firmly.

The girls, gathering around Chinsun, encouraged her. “Just call him” Yunhee said softly. “Set things straight. It’ll help.”

Chinsun hesitated but eventually nodded. She dialed the number, her fingers trembling slightly. The phone rang a few times before the call connected.

“Finally, Sunny” Sunghoon’s voice, smooth but laced with smugness. “You decided to call me back. What’s the matter? Does your boyfriend not satisfy you anymore?”

Haechan’s grip on the edge of the table tightened, his knuckles white as he held himself back from exploding.

Chinsun, kept her voice steady. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Sunghoon. Stop contacting me. I’m happy with Haechan.”

A low chuckle echoed through the phone. “He’ll never be me” Sunghoon said arrogantly.

That was the breaking point.

Haechan took the phone from Chinsun’s hand and brought it to his ear. “Thank God” he said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain. “Because I’m so much better, you pathetic fuckass.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the table, the conversation firmly ended.

He didn’t say another word, instead walking back to his seat at the dining table and sinking into his chair. The others exchanged uneasy glances before slowly following him back inside, one by one.

The air in the room was thick with tension after the heated exchange between Haechan and Chinsun. Everyone tried to move on, lightening the atmosphere by reminiscing about past vacations.

“Summer vacations are the best” Jaemin said, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Nothing beats long days at the beach and bonfire nights.”

“Sure, if you like sand everywhere” Yunhee teased. “Winter vacations have charm. Cozy cabins, hot chocolate, and snow-covered landscapes—it’s magical.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, until you’re stuck shoveling snow off the driveway.”

Renjun chuckled. “Both have their perks. I think it depends on where you go. Remember that summer trip we took to Jeju? The hikes, the ocean view—it was perfect.”

“Except for the sunburns” Daeun added with a laugh. “I was peeling for weeks!”

Soyul chimed in “Winter vacations are underrated, though. Remember that ski trip last year? The slopes were amazing, and the hot springs afterward—unforgettable.”

Haechan, still visibly tense, tried to force a laugh. “I’d take summer any day. Winter’s just… depressing. Too much darkness, not enough fun.”

The conversation was beginning to lift the group’s spirits when an unfamiliar chime interrupted them. A strange notification sound echoed through the room, causing everyone to pause.

“Whose phone is that?” Haechan asked, glancing around.

Chenle, sighed trying to stay composed “It’s yours.”

Haechan frowned but nodded slowly. “Right. So… what’s the message?”

As he read the message he looked confused.

Chinsun peaked behind him “Who’s Jisung? And why’s he asking you how are you feeling?”

The table fell silent.

“What the hell?” Jaemin blurted out, leaning forward. “Who’s Jisung?”

Haechan looked at them, trying to think at some excuses. “He’s a new guys who works with me..you know he got a little crush on me and won’t leave me alone” he said, laughing a little.

“Well then” Chenle starts “why don’t you give him an answer?”

Haechan looked back at his friend, gulping. “Right…” He said as he started typing

“I said ‘I’m okay, I’m at a friend house.” Haechan said, nervously putting the phone down.

Another message light up the screen.

Jisung: What? You said you had fever! That’s the whole reason why we didn’t meet tonight. You promised me…

As everyone listen to the message, their faces light up with confusion, looking at the boy.

“What’s going on?” Daeun asked, her voice filled with confusion.

Chinsun’s face was frozen in shock as she whispered, “Haechan…? What did you have to do with this Jisung?”

Haechan let out a strained laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. “Are you guys seriously thinking—what? That I’d be into… guys? Baby, come on” he said, looking directly at Chinsun. “Look at me. How could I ever like boys?”

Renjun, sitting across the table, folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. His voice was calm but pointed. “What’s wrong with liking boys, Haechan?”

The question hung in the air like a loaded weapon.

Haechan’s eyes flicked to Renjun, then back to Chinsun. “Nothing, obviously! But it’s just… not me.”

Renjun’s gaze sharpened, the calm in his tone replaced by something more cutting. “Oh, really?”

Haechan’s voice dropped, pleading. “Renjun, please—”

Renjun leaned forward, cutting him off. “No, please. Go on. This is hilarious, hearing you talk all this shit.”

The rest of the group looked on in confusion, their gazes darting between the two.

“What are you saying, Jun?” Daeun asked hesitantly, her tone laced with concern.

Renjun ignored her, keeping his focus on Haechan. “What? Did you forget about that summer? Oh, wait, maybe you forgot about the whole year too. Yeah, that happens as you get older, doesn’t it?”

The weight of Renjun’s words hit the table like a bomb.

Chinsun’s eyes welled up, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Is this true?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Haechan’s face was pale, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if to steady himself. “It’s not what you think” he started, his voice cracking.

“Then what is it?” Jaemin pressed, his tone confused but firm.

Soyul glanced between Haechan and Renjun. “Wait… are you saying you two…?”

“No!” Haechan exclaimed, his voice too loud, too defensive. “It wasn’t like that! It was just—”

“Just what?” Renjun interrupted coldly. “A phase? A mistake? Poor this Jisung guy, he doesn’t know what he got himself up to”

Chenle shifted uncomfortably. “Guys, maybe this isn’t the time—”

“Shut up, Chenle!” Haechan snapped, then immediately winced, realizing how out of control he sounded.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when the phone rang, breaking the moment.

Chenle’s phone -now Haechan’s- lights up again for an incoming call.

The name “Jisung” flashed across the screen.

Chenle’s breath hitched. “Don’t answer that” he said quickly, his voice strained.

But it was too late. Renjun, stealing the phone, had already pressed the green button.

Jisung’s voice came through the speaker, sharp and accusatory. “Why did you lie about being sick? We were supposed to meet tonight, and now I find out you’re out with your friends?”

The room went silent.

Haechan, panic flashing across his face, stammered. “I… I don’t even know what you’re talking about… Jisung?”

Jisung scoffed, his tone cutting. “Really? Because I’ve got your location on 360. It’s over, you asshole.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving everyone stunned.

Chinsun’s tears flowed freely now, her hands trembling as she covered her face. The silence was deafening until Haechan finally spoke.

“Guys c’mon..You all know me…I would never do this. I’m not into… boys. It’s not true. None of it is true!”

Renjun let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really?”

Haechan looked at him, pleading. “Renjun, please—”

“No” Renjun said, standing up, his voice steady but full of disappointment. “I’m done listening to this. It’s so funny hearing you deny everything, though. Keep going—it’s entertaining.”

“Renjun, stop” Soyul whispered, her voice soft but firm.

“What am I stopping?” Renjun snapped, glaring at Haechan. “Reminding him of the truth? Maybe he needs it. Or maybe he’s too scared to admit it.”

Haechan sank back into his chair, his face pale and his shoulders slumped. Chinsun stared at him, her tear-filled eyes full of betrayal and heartbreak.

No one spoke.

The room was silent, thick with tension, after Renjun’s cutting remarks. Haechan was frozen, struggling to form a coherent response, his hands gripping the edge of the table like a lifeline. Yunhee, however, decided it was time to step in.

“Okay, enough” she said, her voice sharp, rising over the tension. “Renjun, you don’t have to do this. He’s already overwhelmed, and you’re just—”

Renjun cut her off with a cold laugh, looking her straight in the eye. “Oh, don’t even start, Yunhee. You want to defend him now? I have every right to get angry since how he left me for you?”

The room collectively sucked in a breath.

“What?” Jeno blurted out, his voice laced with disbelief. “Oh god, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Mark turned slowly to Yunhee, his face a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What is he saying?”

Yunhee looked as though she had been caught in headlights. Her mouth opened, then closed, as her hands fidgeted nervously on her lap.

Haechan sighed deeply, throwing his head back as if resigning himself.

“Yeah, Mark” Renjun said, his voice heavy. “Where do you think she got those new earrings?”

His voice was dripping with venom as he gestured toward Yunhee. “They were mine, by the way. Before Haechan decided he was fully straight overnight and that fucking his best friend’s girlfriend was better.”

All eyes turned to Yunhee, who instinctively touched her earrings, her face pale.

Soyul, her voice trembling with shock, muttered, “Oh my god, are you serious? This is insane.”

Mark stared at Yunhee, then at Haechan, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to process the betrayal. “Yunhee…” he began, his voice quiet but full of hurt.

Yunhee’s voice cracked as she tried to explain. “Mark, I—It’s not what you think—”

Chinsun, who had been silently crying, let out a bitter laugh. She stood up abruptly, wiping her tears with shaky hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me” she said, her voice breaking but laced with nervous laughter. “This is crazy. And you—” she pointed at Haechan, her laugh turning into a scoff. “You even had the boldness to accuse me of cheating? While you’re sitting here with a whole whore army?”

Yunhee bristled, standing up to face her. “I’m sorry, who are you calling a whore?”

“Oh, you heard me” Chinsun snapped, her hands on her hips.

“Excuse me, I was here first.” Yunhee shot back, her voice dripping with venom.

Renjun leaned back in his chair, watching the chaos unfold with a sardonic grin. “If we’re playing that game, technically, I was first in line.”

Both women froze, turning their angry glares on him.

Mark, meanwhile, hadn’t moved, his gaze fixed on Haechan, his face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “You were my best friend,” he said quietly, his voice trembling. “How could you do this?”

Haechan opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, looking utterly defeated. “Mark, I—”

“Don’t” Mark interrupted, shaking his head. “Just don’t.”

The room fell silent again, but it didn’t last long.

Jeno broke it with a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands in the air. “God, Haechan, you couldn’t have just told us? About all of this? Especially about… you know.”

Haechan frowned, his exhaustion giving way to irritation. “Why the hell would I have to tell you?”

Jeno leaned forward, incredulous. “Uh, maybe because we all used to sleep and shower together back in the day? I want to know if the guy I sleep next to is a homosexual.”

Haechan tilted his head, genuinely confused. “And why would that concern you Jeno?”

“Of course it concerns me Haechan I-“ Jeno started before being interrupted.

Jaemin, who had been quietly sipping his drink, suddenly smirked, half-laughing. “Oh, you shouldn’t be the one pointing fingers, Jeno.”

All eyes turned to Jaemin now, confusion written across everyone’s faces.

Daeun blinked, looking at him. “What are you talking about?”

Jaemin looked at Jeno, then back at the group, his expression unreadable. “Really? None of you ever noticed anything? You thought I had fewer girls than Haechan just because I wasn’t trying hard enough? There was a reason I was always with Jeno.”

The table erupted in shock, voices overlapping in disbelief.

“W-what..?” Jaemin’s revelation sent Soyul into full-blown tears.

Renjun, however, seemed unfazed. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah, I already knew. Heard them in the changing rooms back in high school.”

Soyul stood abruptly, her sobs echoing in the room. “Jaemin,” she cried, her voice breaking. “This isn’t still going on, right? It’s just old stuff, it isn’t happening anymore right? Right Jaemin? Tell me I’m right.”

Daeun immediately went to comfort her, wrapping her arms around Soyul’s shaking shoulders.

Jaemin’s smirk disappeared, replaced by guilt as he rubbed a hand over his face. “Soyul, I—”

“Is it still happening?” Soyul partially screamed, her voice filled with desperation.

Jaemin lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes.

Soyul’s tears intensified, and she choked out “Jaemin I-m..”

The boy tried to look at her.

“I’m pregnant Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened in shock, and he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“What?..”

But Soyul didn’t let him approach her. She backed away, shaking her head as she sobbed uncontrollably. Then, turning on her heel, she bolted toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Renjun, looking exasperated but concerned, stood up and followed her, muttering “Great. Just great.”

The room was left in stunned silence, everyone staring at Jaemin, who stood frozen, his face pale.

Haechan, still seated, let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Well, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

No one responded. The only sound was Soyul’s muffled sobs from behind the bathroom door.

The tension in the room hung heavy like a storm cloud, and it wasn’t long before Jeno erupted. He slammed his hands on the table, standing up abruptly and glaring at Jaemin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he barked, his voice shaking with anger. “Why would you say that? To everyone? Here? Now?”

Jaemin, still standing, looked at him, his expression unreadable. He met Jeno’s furious gaze with a steady one of his own. “What did you expect, Jeno? That we’d just keep pretending forever? Sooner or later, it was bound to come out. Better now than years down the line.”

Jeno scoffed, his tone bitter. “You think this is better? You think this was the right time? I would’ve taken this secret to my grave if I could. That’s what I wanted.”

Jaemin smirked slightly, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you would, Jeno. You’ve always been good at hiding, haven’t you?”

Jeno’s fists clenched, his jaw tightening as he took a threatening step toward Jaemin. “You have no idea what you’ve just done” he hissed.

At that moment, Haechan pushed his chair back and stood, his eyes flicking between the two men. His voice was sharp as he interjected, “Okay, hold up. Where’s all this oppressed homophobia coming from, Jeno?”

Jeno whipped his head toward Haechan, his face flushed with frustration. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Haechan crossed his arms and tilted his head, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. “Oh, come on. You’re out here acting like Jaemin just destroyed your life or something. Let’s not forget, it was you in his bed, not someone else. Repeatedly. No matter how much you want to deny it now.”

Jeno’s face turned red, and his breathing quickened. “Shut up, Haechan. You don’t know anything about it.”

“I don’t?” Haechan shot back, taking a step forward. His voice grew louder, his tone dripping with mockery. “Because it sounds to me like you’re just mad that you liked it. That you liked him. And now you’re pissed because everyone knows.”

At this point he clearly knows what he’s talking about.

Like he’s talking to his younger self.

“Don’t,” Jeno growled, pointing a finger at Haechan, his voice trembling with rage. “Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jaemin interjected, his voice cold. He stepped closer to Jeno, his eyes narrowing. “You can try to rewrite history all you want, but you know damn well that none of this was one-sided. You were just as much a part of it as I was.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Jaemin’s words hanging in the air like a guillotine. Jeno turned away, running a hand through his hair as he paced in frustration. His breathing was labored, his mind clearly racing as he tried to process everything.

The tension in the room hadn’t yet dissipated when Daeun, standing near the edge of the table, looked visibly shaken. Her normally composed demeanor was gone, replaced by wide eyes and a trembling hand that hovered near her lips. She had been silent through most of the arguments, absorbing the chaos, but now it seemed something had shaken her even more.

And, unexpectedly, it was her phone that buzzed sharply on the table, piercing through the uneasy quiet. The sound was different—a personal ringtone—and it made her freeze. Slowly, everyone’s attention shifted to her.

She stared at the phone like it was a live grenade, her breath catching. She gulped audibly, her hands fidgeting by her sides.

From across the table, Mark raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with suspicion. “Well? Are you going to get that?”

Daeun’s gaze flicked to him, then to the phone. Her voice cracked slightly as she forced herself to speak. “Are we really… still doing this?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with resignation.

Chenle, who had been unusually quiet during the earlier confrontations, suddenly stood and reached for her phone. “Answer the damn phone, Daeun.” he said firmly, his tone sharper than usual. His eyes met hers with a mix of concern and frustration.

Her hand hesitated over the screen before tremblingly hitting the green button.

“Hello?” she said softly, her voice so low it was almost a whisper.

A man’s voice came through the speaker, loud enough to be heard by the others.

“Daeun?” the male voice called, familiar and almost gentle.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “Yes,” she replied in a small voice. “I’m listening.”

Jeno, who had been quietly stewing after his earlier clash with Jaemin, suddenly sat down beside her. His gaze bore into her, searching, confused, concerned. The intensity of their eye contact was palpable, like an entire conversation was being held without words.

The man’s voice on the other end of the phone continued, oblivious to the growing tension in the room. “I’ve been thinking about you. About… us and everything.” His tone dropped slightly, more hesitant. “How have you been feeling? Since, you know… the thing?”

The weight of his words dropped like a bomb in the room.

Jeno’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion etching his features. He leaned forward slightly, his focus entirely on Daeun. She didn’t look away, her gaze locked with his even as the voice on the phone kept talking.

The man sighed. “I feel like I should’ve reached out sooner. I just… I’m sorry about how everything happened. We should’ve been more careful.” Then, after a pause, the voice added tentatively, “Does he know?”

Daeun stiffened, her lips parting but no words coming out. She and Jeno stayed locked in their silent standoff until finally, with her voice barely audible, she said, “No. He doesn’t know.”

With that, she ended the call abruptly, her hand shaking as she placed the phone back on the table.

The silence that followed was deafening. No one dared to speak. All eyes were on her and Jeno.

Finally, Jeno broke the silence, his voice low and harsh. “So? What was he talking about?”

Daeun’s hands curled into fists at her sides, but she refused to answer him.

“Daeun” Jeno pressed, his tone rising with frustration. “What the fuck was he talking about?”

She finally spoke, her jaw tight. “You don’t have the right to make that tone with me.” she snapped.

“The hell I don’t!” Jeno’s voice boomed as he stood again, abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Tell me what the fuck he meant!”

Her control broke. “I was pregnant!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the room. She stood as well, facing him with fire in her eyes.

The words hit like a physical blow, and Jeno froze, his face paling.

The room fell silent again, everyone too stunned to even breathe. Daeun and Jeno stared at each other, their gazes unrelenting and raw.

Jeno’s lips moved, but no sound came out at first. Finally, he whispered, his voice broken and tentative, “It wasn’t mine, was it?”

Daeun let out a bitter laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “How could it have been yours, Jeno? It’s been months since the last time you touched me.”

Her words cut deep and Jeno flinched.

Then, with a deliberate pause, she glanced at Jaemin—just briefly, but enough for everyone to catch it—before turning her gaze back to Jeno. Her voice dropped to a deadly calm. “…And now I understand why.”

The implication of her words rippled through the room like an electric shock.

Daeun’s gaze lingered on Jeno for a moment longer before she let out a shaky breath and stormed away, walking past the table. She headed toward the bathroom, where Soyul was still crying, cuddled with Renjun.

Jeno stood rooted to the spot, his fists clenched tightly by his sides. His face was a mixture of shock, anger, and something deeper—regret, maybe, or guilt.

No one said a word. The weight of the revelation was too much to process.

Jeno finally let out a shaky breath and sat back down, his head in his hands. “What the fuck,” he muttered under his breath, though no one could tell if he was talking to himself or everyone else.

The heavy silence in the living room seemed impenetrable, each person trapped in their own thoughts after the night’s shocking revelations. Even the usual sounds of the house—Mark’s fridge humming, the faint ticking of a wall clock—felt muted under the suffocating weight of everything left unsaid.

Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Everyone jolted, startled by the noise, and looked around the room in confusion.

“Who the hell is that?” Jaemin muttered under his breath, still nursing the glass of wine he hadn’t taken a sip from.

Chinsun, still perched on the edge of the sofa where she’d been sitting with Chenle, let out a dry laugh. “I guess another one of Lee Donghyuck’s boyfriends has arrived!” she said, her tone cutting.

Haechan glared at her from his corner of the room, but before he could retort, Chinsun stood, brushing imaginary dust off her pants, and motioned toward the door. Chenle hesitated but eventually stood alongside her.

The rest of the group, including Renjun, Daeun, and Soyul, who had just returned from the bathroom, slowly began to gather near the door. The tension among them was palpable as they waited for Chinsun to open it.

When she finally did, the tall, broad figure of a strikingly handsome young man was revealed. His tailored coat and polished shoes screamed wealth, and his air of confidence seemed out of place in the disheveled chaos of Mark’s house.

The man smiled hesitantly, trying to break the ice. “Hi, I’m—”

But Chinsun interrupted him before he could finish. “You can come in and get Haechan,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “And then the both of you can get the fuck out of this house.”

The young man blinked, clearly caught off guard, his confused gaze shifting from Chinsun to the rest of the group. His eyes scanned the crowd, passing over each face until they landed on one that finally seemed to click.

“…Uh, I don’t even know who Haechan is” he said, his voice unsure but firm. His eyes locked onto his loved one, and his expression softened. “I’m here for Chenle.”

The room fell into a stunned silence.

The air, already heavy, seemed to grow impossibly thicker.

Chenle let out a long, weary sigh, stepping forward past his frozen friends to stand beside the man. He reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers, and turned to face the group. His gaze swept over their stunned expressions—some confused, some shocked.

“Yes” Chenle began calmly, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “This is my boyfriend, Jisung. Or as some of you may know him… Jiul.”

The collective gasp that followed was almost theatrical in its intensity.

“Jiul?” Jeno blurted out, his tone somewhere between disbelief and accusation. “Why the hell did you tell us it was a girl?”

“And why didn’t you bring him to dinner?” Yunhee added, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.

Chenle huffed out a dry laugh, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jisung, who looked equally baffled by the situation.

“You want to know why?” Chenle began, his voice sharper now as his frustration bubbled to the surface. He gestured around the room with his free hand, his gaze unwavering. “Look at everything that’s happened tonight. Look at how all of you reacted to Haechan’s situation, to Renjun’s story. The petty fights, the accusations, the thinly veiled homophobia that’s been lurking under the surface all night. And you wonder why I didn’t bring Jisung here?”

No one spoke, though a few of them visibly shifted, uncomfortable under his words.

Chenle shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. “I told you Jisung was a girl because I knew—I knew—that if I told the truth, you’d judge me. You’d judge him. You’d find some way to make this about your own insecurities instead of just letting us be happy.”

Jisung squeezed the boy’s hand gently, his expression softening, but Chenle wasn’t done.

“I didn’t want him to come tonight, and now I’m glad I didn’t bring him to dinner,” Chenle continued. “Because this,” he gestured at the group again, “this mess? It would’ve ruined him. He’s too pure for this—too pure for all of you.”

He turned his gaze pointedly to Jeno and then to Jaemin. “You two can’t even have a functional friendship without dragging your relationship baggage into it.”

Then he turned to Haechan. “You spend so much time lying to yourself and everyone else that you’ve started destroying the people who care about you most. You have no right to judge anyone else when you’ve been tearing your own life apart from the inside.”

Finally, his gaze landed on the entire group, sweeping across them like a storm. “And the rest of you? You sit here and watch, like you’re better than everyone else, when the truth is you’re just as broken and hypocritical. You still have all this deep-seated homophobia inside of you—whether you realize it or not. You can’t even handle a little honesty without blowing up. And that’s on you. That’s something you all need to fix in yourselves instead of pointing fingers at everyone else.”

The room fell silent again, Chenle’s words hanging heavy in the air.

Jisung finally spoke up, his voice hesitant but kind. “Uh… Should we go? I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

Chenle glanced at him, his expression softening for the first time since he started talking. “Yes” he said quietly. “I think it’s time to go home”

Chenle gave one last glance at the group, his eyes hard but filled with disappointment. “Good night, everyone,” he said flatly, his hand still clasped firmly in Jisung’s. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the others staring at the space they had occupied moments before.

Renjun was the first to move. His gaze flickered to the others—no goodbye, no explanation—just a glance that spoke of finality. Without a word, he walked over to Daeun, who had been standing near the kitchen island, her expression unreadable. “Come on,” he said softly, and she nodded, letting him guide her out of the house.

Soyul followed soon after, her tear-streaked face pale and exhausted. Chinsun, who had been silently leaning against the wall, pushed herself off with a small sigh. She grabbed her coat and bag and walked toward the door without sparing anyone a second glance.

They didn’t say goodbye. The door opened, and they left.

Jaemin and Jeno stood awkwardly near the door, their expressions as cold as the night air that began to seep through the cracks. Jeno looked at Jaemin, his eyes conflicted, before sighing heavily and grabbing his coat from the back of a chair. Jaemin followed suit, his movements slower, as if weighed down by unspoken words.

As they reached the door, Jaemin hesitated, looking back at Yunhee. His lips twitched into a faint smile—one of acknowledgment, regret, and resignation all rolled into one. He nodded at her slightly before stepping out after Jeno, letting the door fall shut behind them.

Now, only Mark, Yunhee, and Haechan remained.

The living room felt cavernous, like a hollow shell of the home it had been only hours earlier. The three of them stood frozen, avoiding each other’s gazes.

Haechan sighed deeply and moved toward the coat rack. He pulled on his jacket, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He lingered for a moment, standing by the door, his hand resting on the handle.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark and Yunhee exchanged a glance, but neither of them responded. There were no words left, nothing that could smooth over the damage that had been done tonight.

Haechan didn’t wait for a reply. He opened the door and stepped out into the cold, letting the door close behind him with a soft click.

One by one, as they exited the house, the lunar eclipse began to fade. The moon, which had been cloaked in shadow, slowly emerged into the light once more. Its silver glow illuminated the quiet streets outside, casting long shadows as if trying to cleanse the darkness that had enveloped the night.

Mark stood by the window, watching as the obscurity faded and the world outside returned to normal. The celestial phenomenon, which had felt so significant just hours earlier, now seemed like nothing more than a fleeting event—a brief moment of darkness before the light inevitably returned.

Underneath the glow of the moonlight, Chenle and Jisung waited near their car. They lingered by the curb, their faces relaxed, but their conversation was light and casual.

Daeun and Soyul exited the house shortly after, joined by Renjun and Chinsun. They strolled down the steps, their chatter warm and friendly. Daeun raised an eyebrow at Jisung, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “So, who’s this handsome guy, huh?” he asked.

Chinsun followed up, her curiosity piqued. “Where have you been hiding him, Chenle?”

Chenle stole a quick glance at Jisung before responding smoothly “Oh, we’re just really close friends. Same department and all that. You know how it is.”

The others nodded, the explanation seemingly enough, and the group shifted into easy conversation. Laughter bubbled up as Jaemin and Jeno joined them, their arms casually draped over their girlfriends. Jeno playfully nudged Chenle with a grin. “Something’s fishy. Is there something going on between you two? Chenle, are you hiding something?”

“Me?” Chenle asked, feigning mock indignation as he stole another glance at Jisung. “Never.”

Everyone laughed, the tension of the evening evaporating into the cool night air. When Haechan finally emerged from the house, Chinsun turned to him with a radiant smile, her hand waving him over. “Come on, baby! We’re all waiting for you!”

Haechan jogged down the steps, his face lighting up as he reached her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “What’d I miss?” he asked, slipping an arm around her waist.

“Nothing important” she replied with a grin.

Chenle jingled his car keys. “Alright, I guess this is where we part ways. See you all next time?”

A chorus of agreements followed, and the group exchanged playful goodbyes.

Haechan stopped in his tracks, turning to call out, “Jaemin! Don’t forget about the basketball game next weekend. We’ve got space if you can keep up.”

Jaemin smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Keep up? I’m ready to destroy you.”

“I’d like to see you try” Haechan shot back with a grin, before returning to Chinsun’s side.

The group dispersed, heading to their cars or walking down the street under the soft glow of the moonlight, as though nothing had shifted in the delicate balance of their friendships.

Back at the house, Mark and Yunhee were finishing up. The table was cleared, the wine glasses washed and left to dry. Mark wiped his hands on a towel as Yunhee sat on the edge of the bed, taking off her jewels.

“Long night” she said, her voice light.

Mark nodded, leaning against the doorway of their bedroom. “Yeah. You know, I’m glad we didn’t play that game tonight” he said, his tone measured.

Yunhee glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Why? What’s so bad about a silly game?”

Mark sighed, crossing his arms. “Sometimes it’s better not to know everything. People have their secrets, and maybe they need to stay secrets. Not because they’re trying to hurt anyone, but because knowing them wouldn’t help anything. It would just… ruin things.”

Yunhee considered this for a moment, nodding slowly. “I guess you’re right. But honestly, I don’t even have anything to hide” she said with a small smile as she placed her earrings on the nightstand, right next to her phone.

Mark’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Those earrings are beautiful, by the way” he said softly.

Yunhee chuckled, sliding under the covers. “Thanks, they’re my favorite.”

Mark reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. “Goodnight,” he murmured as the room plunged into darkness.

Outside, the moon shone brightly, its light spilling into the quiet streets below. The obscurity had passed, but its lingering shadows remained, woven subtly into the hearts of those who had gathered that night. Though the light had returned, it seemed that not everything could go back to normal. And yet, life went on, as it always does, under the moon’s watchful gaze.

20 notes · View notes

okurrroye · 6 months ago

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See what we not going to do is dangle Darilyn again instead give me Benius you idiotic cowards.

#like cut the crap #if he didn’t like her the first time he’s not going to start suddenly liking her now #stop toying with my baby boy Darius #like bffr #first you made it seem like darilyn was going to be a thing and pulled kenlyn out of your ass #no offense to kenlyn shippers like I didn’t ship Dailyn either like it just seemed like that was the initial vibe they were going for #but now they really going play in my face again when clearly Benius should’ve been the next and only correct move #Ben is in love with Darius and the feelings are reciprocated and that’s final #like can we quit this idea where there can only be one gay couple in a show jeez #btw I have no fucking clue of any of the ship names because honestly I don’t even know if there is a fandom for this show #I just love the show and I’m just so glad they brought it back because me and my mom was so pissed they ended it after they became teens b/c #bitch we know you could’ve made more and see I was right #jurassic world chaos theory #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jwct #jwcc #jwct darius #jwcc darius #jwct ben #jwcc ben #jwct brooklynn #jwcc brooklynn #nublar six

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exopelagic · 3 months ago

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okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

#okay so I came to this flat and he wasn’t here. greeted by a very dirty flat with shit all over the kitchen counters over cling film #I meet first my other flatmate who told me he stays in his room constantly bc of previous bad flatmates #has literally just a saucepan and some salt in the kitchen. so I’m like okay spaghetti guy potentially not great but could just be #how this guy is yknow #on Tuesday I get an email back saying he’s coming back from Norway tonight looking forward to seeing you feel free to use the kitchen sauces #rlly friendly message that I wasn’t expecting. I also didn’t know he’d been on a trip i just knew he wasn’t there bc his door was open #(to a REALLY nice room. multiple rlly nice plants (which he has little care labels for!!!) and it’s tidy and pretty #and he’s got a sheep teddy on the bed)#meanwhile I am in my own head bc I don’t wanna cook in the kitchen until I can clean it and I can’t clean it without moving his shit and #I haven’t seen him yet to talk abt it and I can’t bring myself to talk to him immediately bc I’m dying #and embarrassed as hell by how I’ve been cooking in my room with a microwave and air fryer (loud) and sneaking my shit out of the kitchen #but then yesterday I DO talk to him!! and he’s super friendly!! actually interested in having a conversation and Good at it.#and then he’s cooking and like. spaghetti burns but I’m not there for long and seems to be a mistake (he made the same thing for lunch today #and did Not burn the spaghetti) and is otherwise clearly competent bc the food smells Good and despite leaving a few things out it’s like #washed up stuff isn’t dirty and the sides are better despite still under cling film. more a case that he’s spread out than he’s messy #and now today we talked and i offered to hold onto some shit over summer bc complicated situation that boils down to he’s flying back home #and he cant take all his stuff and had to choose between chucking stuff/having literally nothing this weekend. like sleeping on the sofa etc #and then cleans the whole flat?? which I’m assuming a good chunk is his mess? but he did not need to do that. could’ve easily left #bc there are two people still living here who would’ve had to deal with it and he doesn’t know either at all #and THEN tonight we talk abt food which is fun bc we both ordered stuff. and he offers me some honeydew melon bc he’s been gorging himself #these past two days to finish it before it goes bad/he leaves which is also really sweet #and JUST NOW. I take my headphones out after finishing dinner and hear the sweetest fucking guitar #he plays the gentlest like dreamy sounding acoustic guitar I’ve heard in my life in his room (door closed by the time I leave)#this is actually just a really cool dude #now that the kitchens clear I’m gonna cook tomorrow and will probably offer him some bc otherwise he’s gonna be eating out all weekend #he has extra takeout for tomorrow night but might want smth Sunday #regardless I am just. huh??? left a bit stunned bc of the u turn my opinion of this guy has taken. bc my opinion of him was a reflection #of my discomfort moving to this weird dirty basement flat with two people I didn’t know #well. idk where to go from here. I think I’ll start by talking to him more this weekend. bc holy fucking shit.#luke.txt

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ri-afan · 2 months ago

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If I didn’t get to keep my knowledge then I would likely have a different answer.

To maximise my friends now while minimising the rest, 6-10 would have to be it. Holding out to the next stage would run the risk of coming into middle school too late even if it turns out I fell back to being in first grade again. Though to think I would still move in with my mother for high school for the few friends I have from then even if I didn’t get to graduate with most of them… y’all are special.

Can’t tag L or E.R., obviously, but can tag @shortiethewolf so I will: I love you guys so much and I would say you’re worth it living there with her even if I haven’t spoken to E.R. since graduation and it’s been so sporadic with both you and L since I moved. (You never met her but I think y’all could’ve been acquaintances at the least.) Also, the experience with M and E.C. years 10&11? I was kinda the catalyst to get them what they wanted and I feel like I dropped the ball on the experiences we had. Definitely have to be there for that to happen because they’re still nice people ❤️‍🩹 It would free me from some of mom’s attention too, even if it’s a crappy way to think about it. I’d definitely be doing more to stay off her radar though.

—Listen, I spent the time I was writing the last paragraph thinking about it and I think I would know the perfect time and plan to get things to work out and I still wouldn’t have to take that damn trig class in high school.

I would move after 6th grade because while I love dad I don’t know about being where they were and I only would have one more year where we were. Probably would still get pulled out of public school for bigotry reasons for middle school though (which, half and half it wasn’t wholly a terrible experience even if it truly was full of not the …best things… I’d do my best to work with what I had between all that but it was a… learning experience for sure. Probably ask if I could join a Spanish class though because it woulda been useful at least), then I would land with shortie in art year 9 (oh! I would change the science classes though my god - AP over regular Earth Science, physics over chem 🙏🏼 no APUSH dear god no I love L but I couldn’t with that class again, but I would change how I took that English class year 11) and meet L in that shitty religion club year 10 (I can’t remember how we met outside of that so I guess I’ll have to go to it for him 🙄😜) and totally skip all of that bs with people making L and me awkward af. And shutdown his shit with N bc that just fed into no good things (god, you remember that? I thought it was weird then and still think it was odd a decade later). Would def still turn him into a WonderWoman fan though because I think that helped him overall 😁 That thing with that guy I never actually met in the end from that one place would not happen year 11, I don’t think I let on just how much of a creep he was but I’m saying no right now. Maybe I actually woulda acted on my thoughts with E.R. senior year though. 🤔 Every once in a while I ponder it when I catch that one photo of us.

Then fucking GAP YEAR before college omg. N and I would likely not happen though 🫤 (all well and good for how it ended but maybe I could have done something different there for communication and we actually get to be friends instead of whatever that bs was…) Still move out to here bc it’s cheaper and just not where I graduated in the end (bc fuck that place, sorry E.R. even though you can’t read this 😅 one year there would be Enough) but skip that first college altogether bc holy shit that was a pricy waste of time, then join the second school (maybe I coulda talked y’all into coming along but I’m doubting it hard you lizards 🦎😄) and get that damn degree I love but sadly don’t really use and work towards what I have at this college still because I still love it. Maybe I could use the first degree when I started the next phase of college at that town. Miss me with those living situations in 2019 though, that ain’t happening again.

Maybe I would fucked around and taken a few other classes that caught my eye too but didn’t consider at the time because sexism? Probably woulda helped.

Now, how would this actually change things? It sounds like I’m on the same path overall.

I’m glad you asked! Connections.

This public thought experiment is over though 😛 but I definitely am going to continue it on my own.

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

#6-10 #keep #me irl #Ri journals #will I regret posting this? maybe #but the reblog is mine and really for me anyway #well. me and shortiethewolf but I digress #I digress a lot actually #shortie if you want the details of this you can ask freely #I just tried to keep it vague for everything else and the fact that this is public #i can picture this so clearly in my head #all the little tweaks that would be building a different foundation #maybe I would still have Rose 🥀#then again maybe Mirajane wouldn’t have fucking rolled in the first place #I would definitely be more proactive in the relationships I’ve since lost through distance and death #I don’t really know where to start with that now but I can clearly see what I would change or ignore from then #I would work for more independence where I wouldn’t see y’all outside of school to build a nest egg #i would move to _______ town outside of high school before entering that college #I hate that I would have all these interests that I wouldn’t have then and couldn’t reach #can’t imagine having to wait for Yuri on Ice or Spy X Family again #though it would be funny to just start doing one of my hobbies without appearing to have learned though 😂😂#love ya shortiethewolf #hope you don’t mind #both the long post and that I shortened you to shortie #would wolf work better??? wolfie??? idk but I’m not typing these again

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steviescrystals · 6 months ago

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my tags on the post i just reblogged got me thinking so here’s my current stream of consciousness

#i refer to ages 12-16 as my ‘church girl era’ bc that’s when i got really deep into christianity #like i went to church twice a week (regular sessions on sundays small groups on tuesdays) and to church events trips camps etc all the time #i even got baptized when i was 13 bc my siblings and i weren’t baptized as babies #like church was such a huge part of my life but i think it only became that bc of the specific church i went to #it was a nondenominational church and the environment was very chill for lack of a better word #and the social aspect of it was really what got me into the actual religion #i HATED going there when we first moved here bc i didn’t know anyone and i was so painfully shy #then in middle school i made a bunch of friends who went to the same church and suddenly it was so fun #that’s when i started going on tuesdays bc we would play games and have contests and stuff like that before the actual small groups #so it felt more like a club my friends and i were in than a church #but once i had those friends and i was comfortable being there i genuinely started to get more invested in christianity #bc i was actually paying attention to the sermons instead of just thinking about how anxious i was the whole time #so by the time i started high school i was very actively christian for the first time in my life #but somehow i drifted away from it just as easily as i fell into it #i started playing lacrosse when i was 15 and we had practice most weeknights so i couldn’t go to small groups anymore #and then our church merged with a bigger church in the area so we became a new branch of that church instead of a little community church #and the merger changed so much about the way the church operated that a ton of people just stopped going entirely including me #and it only took a few months for me to realize that i just didn’t really believe any of it or feel connected to it anymore #and idk even years later i still have love for a lot of those people and that part of my life #but it’s interesting how as soon as i lost that social community the church gave me i was completely disconnected from the religion itself #and at this point in my life i can’t see myself ever identifying as a christian again partly bc i just can’t get myself to believe in god #and partly bc of all the awful christians out there although i firmly believe there are still so many christians who are good people #for example my church was always accepting of the lgbtq+ community which obviously was and is super important to me #but yeah i just can’t see myself ever being religious again but at the same time i still find myself missing it sometimes even now #the community was clearly a huge part of it for me but it was also such a nice feeling to be so into the faith or wtv you want to call it #like i’ve always known my own values/morals ofc and i also love other forms of spirituality but actual religion is such a unique thing to me #like i don’t want to be christian again but i do miss the feeling of being christian/religious in general if that makes sense #and at least for me there really isn’t any substitute that can give me that same specific feeling which is honestly really sad to me #anyway. idk where i was going with this but if any former christians (or other ex religious people) want to weigh in i’d love your thoughts #lj.txt

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chlorinecake · 2 months ago

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— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂

▹ PAIRING: soft!dom fiancé bangchan x f. reader

▹ SYNOPSIS: Chan gets a little upset upon realizing that you weren’t wearing your engagement ring, but you make it up to him by letting him fuck you in his studio after a long day of work…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, teasing, dry humping and heavy petting, mentions of food, breeding kink + cream pie (chan’s a possessive freak and in love with the idea of getting you preggers lol), dirty talk, light breath play (f. receiving), pet names (good girl, baby), that’s about it

▹ WORD COUNT: 1.8k — DAY 2

BEING THE AMAZING partner you are, you decided to stop by the studio where your fiancé was working and bring him some dinner, and by dinner, I mean a box full of his favorite takeout foods:

Grilled beef, steamed rice, broccoli teriyaki, and a chicken egg roll…

He was working a few hours overtime that day, and aside from the fact that you wanted him to have something good to eat after expending such efforts, you really just missed his presence…

You missed looking at his gorgeous face and hearing his adorable voice while he did absolutely nothing but vibe with you… you missed having his hands on you and your hands on him as you both got lost in the lusts of your own hearts—

“Chris,” your voice came out gently as you stood behind him, caressing over his tense shoulders while he remained seated in his desk chair, “just rest your little head, baby… you worry too much…”

“I do… you’re right…” he sighs deeply while leaning his head back against the headrest to look at you, the smell of takeout distant in the room.

His eyes are clearly tired as you know he’s been overworked lately, but you hold yourself from bringing it up to him, placing a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead instead.

“Thanks for stopping by, though, princess,” he went on, and you already feel like he’s trying to push you away, despite how you literally just got here, “I have to get back to work now, though—”

“You’re always getting back to work, Channie…” you chuckle slightly, and his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs come across a particularly tight muscle in his left shoulder…

Digging in, you massage the knot gently, but the pressure you apply doesn’t feel so soothing at first—

“Ouch, that hurts!” Chan exclaims with a wince, and you simply smooth over his skin with your touch, massaging a different area instead as you decided to give that spot time to heal on its own.

“Look… your body’s aching as if you’ve been working in a field all day… that’s why I’m here to make you feel better,” you return, and his body is clearly starting to relax the more and more your fingers smooth along the base of his neck and back down his shoulders again, soft hums coming from his throat at the sensation.

“But you don’t have to, love…” he says, voice a little weak as the warmth of your touch reeled him into relaxation, “just having you around is making me feel better already…”

“Aww,” you pout facetiously, even though he can’t see it from where he’s sitting, “You missed me, Channie?… Your very own nagging fiancé?…”

“Nooo,” he corrects, turning in his chair now to get a proper look at you, “I missed my beautiful wife to be, and my adoring partner in crime…”

Reaching out a hand, the veins in his arm appear highlighted under the dim studio lighting as he guides your face into his before giving you a kiss that you both smile into… weakly though, considering how it’s literally 4 in the morning...

Breaking from the contact, you tug at his wrist slightly, not letting go until he finally gets up from the chair, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.

The look on his face now very clearly lets you know what’s on his mind, but you simply decide to sit on his lap in a straddle position, wanting him to make the first move from here…

And he did.

“Can I?” He asks while lifting his hands from the couch cushion, hovering them over your hips and being careful not to touch until you allowed him to.

“Of course, silly,” you chuckle, making him blush slightly at your brief fit of laughter.

“It’s not like anyone’s here to tease us for it,” you went on, thinking back to the countless times that your fiancé’s friends (specifically Minho and Han) would outwardly gag whenever you two publicly display affection—

“You’re right, baby… no one’s around to bother us,” Chris breathes in agreement, finally letting his eager hands rest at your hips before adding a bit of pressure as he caressed up your waist and along your thighs, “The two of us could practically get away with doing anything we want for the next few hours in here…”

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was specifically implying, but you decide to play dumb anyway, just because you absolutely loved hearing his strong Aussie accent come out whenever he was sexually worked up with you…

“Takeout’s still waiting to be opened, Chris,” you whisper, letting your nails gently drag against his scalp as he melts into your touch, his silky curls looping around your fingers, “we shouldn’t keep it out for too long or else it might spoil…”

“Well I’m not in the mood to eat anymore,” he whispers back in a raspy voice, and you let your weight sink further into his lap, your bottom resting right above the spot his true hunger was pulling him most.

“Use your words, baby… tell me what you want,” You press, leaving a kiss along his clenched jawline… and another one on his pretty thick lips… and a third one against his Adam’s Apple that makes him groan out loud…

Or maybe his groan had more to do with the way you were also rocking your hips against his clothed hard on, making his hands slightly grip at the fabric of your jeans for any sort of leverage.

“Why… of all the bottoms that you own, did you close to wear tight, denim jeans at a time like this?” He asks with frustration, making you giggle a bit at the way his chest rises and falls every time you circle in his lap, the rough material tantalizing him…

“Don’t you think they make my ass look good, though?” You tease with a pout, watching as he smirks at your question, only to hiss at your movements again.

“They make your ass look great, babe… but they also make it impossible for me to touch you properly…”

He was doing it again, you thought to yourself… That thing where he gets you to do what he wants without specifically asking.

Yes, Chris was a typically a pretty confident guy, but sometimes, you had a way of bringing out his shy, reluctant side when it came to sexual things, but you still found it cute nonetheless.

“Fine, then… since you’re too shy to ask for it properly, I’ll just do it myself,” you say in a bratty tone while getting up from his lap, and he visibly scoffs at the way you stood before him now, fingers meddling with the buckle of your jeans until he stopped you.

“C’mere,” he huffs, pulling you close to him by the belt loop of your jeans until you fall into the couch beside him with a gentle plop.

His smirks again once he finally unzips the rough fabric just enough to see a leak of what’s beneath, and the expression is so wide that his dimples come through…

At first, you’re not sure why he’s a grinning mess, but you understand once his fingers run over the lace of your black panties, the same pair that he brought you a while back on one of his tours cross-country.

“I’ll take a wild guess and say you wore these for me, huh?” He asks with a husk to his tone now that you’re bumping your knee against his clothed hard-on, and his hips subconsciously chase the friction.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, lifting up on your elbows now to look at him better, “I just didn’t expect you to take so long to get ‘em off me…”

“How cute,” he returns, and your eyes follow the veins trailing his forearm, his flexed fingers hooking at either side of your hips before tugging your jeans the rest of the way down and past your ankles with your panties, tucking them under the couch cushion for his private use later…

“Cute?” You repeat with a raised brow, spreading your legs before him as you both watched each others cores intently, practically itching within yourself for him to finally untie his sweatpants.

“Yup. Love it when you get in your little attitudes,” he says plainly, but his smile is half-hearted now as he leans over you, bracing himself with his hands before kissing your forehead.

You try to follow where his eyes are looking, but his bangs are in the way, and you can’t help but ask him what the matter is…

However, he doesn’t answer immediately, simply taking your hands in his and placing a kiss to l the closed knuckles of your left hand, right before pinning your wrist at either side of your head on the couch.

And that’s when it hits you… the reason behind his sudden change in aura:

You forgot to put your engagement ring on…

You had only taken it off for a second before coming to meet him in the studio because some oil from the takeout bag had spilled on your hands… while washing up in the bathroom, you had put the ring in your purse and simply forgot to put it back on…

Though, you knew at this point it’d be worthless trying to get that story through Chan’s thick skull, as he had already made up in his mind that you were playing games with him…

“Where’s your ring, baby?” Your fiancé asks while shimmying down his boxers and trousers with one hand, and you near choke on air at the sight of his glossy and girthy tip springing out before you, red and angry with need.

“I-it’s in my purse,” you stammer, almost feeling guilty now that you had even forgot to put it back on in the first place, “I can go and get it—”

“No need,” he interrupts you, lining himself up with your entrance as the depth of his voice equally catches you off guard, “just make sure you put it back on after this, yea?”

You winced at the sudden stretch of his cock filling you up just right, and your hips are already trembling at the delicious fullness.

“Channie… it slipped my mind, baby… please,” you say, and you’re not quite sure what it is that you’re begging for, but you always had a habit of going dumb around his cock, even if it’s just resting inside you.

“I gave you a simple order, love… now, do you understand me, yes or no?” He asks more sternly this time, thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccuping at the force.

“Y-yes, I understand,” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.

“Say it again,” he orders, and you listen, gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway.

You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.

“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention.

“Good enough to let me cum in you, huh?” He questions, but it’s more so of a suggestion than anything, and you oblige to it, nodding your head in desperation as your hips start to follow the movements of his.

“Yes, baby… w-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.

“Gonna put a baby in your pretty little stomach,” he huffs in between fucking you open with all his strength, “and at that point, who cares if you don’t have your ring on? Everyone will know who you belong to once your tummy’s all swollen because of me… tell me who this pussy belongs to…”

“Y-you, Channie,” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now.

“Louder…”

“It’s all- fuckkk… yours, b-baby,” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry at that given the way his hand is tightening around your throat, but you don’t mind… not one bit when it feels THIS. Fucking. Good…

He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he break away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.

The couch starts to creak to the rhythm of his movements, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the large cushions it was made with, otherwise you’re certain the both of you would’ve been on the floor at this point.

“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby… sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.

“F-fuck~” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you.

He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head.

“Cum in me,” you plead with a soft voice while, lips puffy from how hard you’d been biting them, and Chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star.

“Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now.

“Wait, Channie,” you say, thighs still trembling a bit as he pulled out of you, a bit too early though for you to remind him that his cum would only spill out—

“Shit,” he swears under his breath upon realizing, rushing to catch the fluid spilling from your cunt now with his fingers, trying not to get it on the couch, but to no avail.

He instead lets his fingers push the cum back into you, holding his wrist there until he’s able to reach for a napkin off of his desk to help clean you up.

“Stop that, baby,” he says with a mischievous smile, but only because your walls were sucking his digits in, preventing him from taking them out to clean them off, “give me some time to recharge and then we can go again, okay?…”

All you can bring yourself to do is hum at his words, and he in turn offers you another gentle smile.

Applying light pressure to your lower stomach, he finally gets your walls to release his fingers from the confines of your sloppy hole, wiping the residue off with the napkin.

“Didn’t expect you to cum this much,” you say in a sleepy tone while reaching for your jeans to slide them back on.

“Me neither,” he chuckles, readjusting his pants before getting up to toss the soiled napkin in the bin nearby, “but uh... just know that if in three weeks, we find out that our first future child was conceived on this couch, never tell this story to anyone…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 2 of my Kinktober Event !! This was also my first time publishing any written work for Stray Kids (my ult group XD) so feel free to tell me how I did in the comments !! Finally, if you're interested in reading more works like this, check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

also, check out THIS fic NEXT if you're interested in more...

#stray kids #skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan #bangchan #bang chan stray kids #skz smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #stay kids bang chan #kpop smut #stray kids hard hours

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 6 months ago

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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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fictionstudent · 3 months ago

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How to pull off descriptions

New authors always describe the scene and place every object on the stage before they press the play button of their novels. And I feel that it happens because we live in a world filled with visual media like comics and films, which heavily influence our prose.

In visual media, it’s really easy to set the scene—you just show where every object is, doesn’t matter if they’re a part of the action about to come or not. But prose is quite different from comics and films. You can’t just set the scene and expect the reader to wait for you to start action of the novel. You just begin the scene with action, making sure your reader is glued to the page.

And now that begs the question—if not at the beginning, where do you describe the scene? Am I saying you should not use descriptions and details at all? Hell naw! I’m just saying the way you’re doing it is wrong—there’s a smarter way to pull off descriptions. And I’m here to teach that to you.

***

#01 - What are descriptions?

Let’s start with the basics—what are descriptions? How do you define descriptions? Or details, for that matter? And what do the words include?

Descriptions refer to… descriptions. It’s that part of your prose where you’re not describing something—the appearance of an object, perhaps. Mostly, we mean scene-descriptions when we use the term, but descriptions are more than just scene-descriptions.

Descriptions include appearances of characters too. Let’s call that character-descriptions.

Both scene-descriptions and character-descriptions are forms of descriptions that we regularly use in our prose. We mostly use them at the beginning of the scene—just out of habit.

Authors, especially the newer ones, feel that they need to describe each and every nook and cranny of the place or character so they can be visualized clearly by their readers, right as the authors themselves visualized them. And they do that at the start of the scene because how can you visualize a scene when you don’t know how the scene looks first.

And that’s why your prose is filled with how the clouds look or what lights are on the room before you even start with the dialogues and action. But the first paragraph doesn’t need to be a simple scene-description—it makes your prose formulaic and predictable. And boring. Let me help you with this.

***

#02 - Get in your narrator’s head

The prose may have many MCs, but a piece of prose only has a single narrator. And these days, that’s mostly one of the characters of your story. Who uses third-person omniscient narrator these days anyway? If that’s you, change your habits.

Anyway, know your narrator. Flesh out their character. And then internalize them—their speech and stuff like that. Internalize your narrator to such an extent that you can write prose from their point-of-view.

Now, I don’t mean to say that only your narrator should be at the center of the scene—far from it. What I mean is you should get into your narrator’s head.

You do not describe a scene from the eyes of the author—you—but from the eyes of the narrator. You see from their eyes, and understand what they’re noticing. And then you write that.

Start your scene with what the narrator is looking at.

For example,

The dark clouds had covered the sky that day. The whole classroom was in shades of gray—quite unusual for someone like Sara who was used to the sun. She felt the gloom the day had brought with it—the gloom that no one else in her class knew of.

She never had happy times under the clouds like that. Rain made her sad. Rain made her yearn for something she couldn’t put into words. What was it that she was living for? Money? Happiness?

As she stared at the sky through the window, she was lost in her own quiet little corner. Both money and happiness—and even everything else—were temporary. All of it would leave her one day, then come back, then leave, then come back, like the waves of an ocean far away from any human civilization in sight.

All of it would come and go—like rain, it’d fall on her, like rain, it’d evaporate without proof.

And suddenly, drops of water began hitting the window.

You know it was a cloudy day, where it could rain anytime soon. You know that for other students, it didn’t really matter, but Sara felt really depressed because of the weather that day. You know Sara was at the corner, dealing with her emotions alone.

It’s far better than this,

The dark clouds covered the sky that day. It could rain anytime soon.

From her seat at the corner of the room, Sara stared at the sky that made everything gray that day. She…

The main reason it doesn’t work is that you describe the scene in the first paragraph, but it’s devoid of any emotions. Of any flavor. It’s like a factual weather report of the day. That’s what you don’t want to do—write descriptions in a factual tone.

If you want to pull off the prior one, get to your narrator’s head. See from their eyes, think from their brain. Understand what they’re experiencing, and then write that experience from their POV.

Sara didn’t care what everyone was wearing—they were all probably in their school uniforms, obviously, so I didn’t describe that. Sara didn’t focus on how big the classroom was, or how filled, or what everybody was doing. Sara was just looking at the clouds and the clouds alone, hearing everybody just living their normal days, so I mentioned just those things.

As the author, you need to understand that only you, the author are the know-it-all about the scene, not your narrator. And that you’re different from your narrator.

Write as a narrator, not as an author.

***

#03 - Filler Words

This brings me to filler words. Now, hearing my advice, you might start writing something like this,

Sarah noticed the dark clouds through the window. She saw that they’d saturated the place gray.

Fillers words like “see”, “notice”, “stare”, “hear” should be ignored. But many authors who begin writing from the POV of the characters start using these verbs to describe what the character is experiencing.

But remember, the character is not cognizant of the fact that they’re seeing a dark cloud, just that it’s a dark cloud. You don’t need these filler words—straight up describe what the character is seeing, instead of describing that the character is seeing.

Just write,

There were dark clouds on the other end of the window, which saturated the place gray.

Sarah is still seeing the clouds, yeah. But we’re looking from her eyes, and her eyes ain’t noticing that she’s noticing the clouds.

It’s kinda confusing, but it’s an important mistake to avoid. Filler words can really make your writing sound more amateurish than before and take away the experience of the reader, because the reader wants to see through the narrator’s eyes, not that the narrator is seeing.

***

#04 - Characters

Character-descriptions are a lot harder to pull off than scene-descriptions. Because it’s really confusing to know when to describe them, their clothing, their appearances, and what to tell and what not to.

For characters, you can give a full description of their looks. Keep it concise and clear, so that your readers can get a pretty good idea of the character with so few words that they don’t notice you’ve stopped action for a while.

Or can show your narrator scanning the character, and what they noticed about them.

Both these two tricks only work when a character is shown first time to the readers. After that, you don’t really talk about their clothing or face anymore.

Until there’s something out of the ordinary about your character.

What do I mean by that? See, you’ve described the face and clothes of the character, and the next time they appear, the reader is gonna imagine the character in a similar set of clothes, with the same face and appearance that they had the first time. Therefore, any time other than the first, you don’t go into detail about the character again. But, if something about your character is out of ordinary—there are bruises on their face, scars, or a change in the way they dress—describe it to the reader. That’s because your narrator may notice these little changes.

***

#05 - Clothing

Clothing is a special case. Some new authors describe the clothes of the characters when they’re describing the character every time the reader sees them. So, I wanna help you with this.

Clothing can be a way to show something about your character—a character with a well-ironed business suit is gonna be different from a character with tight jeans and baggy t-shirt. Therefore, only use clothing to tell something unique about the character.

Refrain from describing the clothing of characters that dress like most others. Like, in a school, it’s obvious that all characters are wearing school uniforms. Also, a normal teenage boy may wear t-shirts and denim jeans. If your character is this, no need to describe their clothing—anything the reader would be imagining is fine.

Refrain from describing the clothing of one-dimensional side-characters—there’s a high chance you’ve not really created them well enough that they have clothing that differs from the expectations of the readers. We all know what waiters wear, or what a college guy who was just passing by in the scene would be wearing.

You may describe the clothing of the important character in the story, but only in the first appearance. After that, describe their clothes only if the clothes seem really, really different from the first time. And stop describing their clothes if you’ve set your character well enough in the story that your readers know what to expect from them in normal circumstances—then, describe clothes only when they’re really, really different from their usual forms of clothing.

***

#06 - Conclusion

I think there was so much I had to say in this article, but I didn’t do a good job. However, I said all that I wanted to say. I hope you guys liked the article and it helps you in one way or the other.

And please subscribe if you want more articles like this straight in your inbox!

#writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writeblr #writing #creative writing #writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing descriptions #character descriptions

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heeliopheelia · 8 months ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least.

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now.

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully.

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it.

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there.

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you.

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again.

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him.

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further.

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment.

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you.

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough.

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?”

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead.

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly.

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips.

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut.

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly.

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly.

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered.

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace.

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on.

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles.

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe.

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck.

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him.

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry.

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound.

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours.

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?”

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom.

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers.

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles.

You feel awful.

Jake feels even worse.

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting.

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.”

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible.

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago.

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand.

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl.

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?”

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him.

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well.

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more.

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair.

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest.

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago.

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again.

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers.

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago.

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

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