#i know i have to get to september so we have another two months to go

[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[hannie-dul-set]

the breakup soup — [y.jh].

SYNOPSIS. you and jeonghan get into an argument in the middle of the meeting. the rest of your organization’s officers slowly start to realize that this isn’t just about whether the mountains or the sea would be the better venue for your event.

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x female! reader. GENRE. lovers to exes to lovers, humor, romance, tiny angst, orgmate! jeonghan, college! au, a whole lot of forced proximity, only one bed inn room, a bunch of nosy men. WARNINGS. written breakup (obviously), so much swearing, many many dumb inappropriate jokes (divorce, fucking, diarrhea, to name a few), parliamentary procedures jargon. WORD COUNT. 15k.

NOTE. after six, seven months, this this is finally out of hell (my gdocs). the soup is overcooked. holy shit. everything is written in the pov of a certain teener (excluding jeonghan and the mc. this fic is about them but no, you do not have access to their thoughts). this is super duper fun to write and i hope it’s fun to read as well HHAHAHAHA. please let me know what you think! enjoy!

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 7, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

The words robotically fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he turns over the pages of his clipboard, marking a precise, red dot next to the word ‘agenda’ on the page. Another day, another meeting. He can’t wait for the moment he can finally retire from this god damned position. Every single time he repeats his presiding officer script, it feels like a digit gets added to his age.

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.” 

Wonwoo starts the roll call, and Seungcheol is desperately trying to cover his yawn with the clipboard, else Seungkwan is gonna grate at him again for dozing off in his own meeting— the aforementioned straightening himself in his seat when his position is called.

“Public Information Officer 1?”

“Present and voting.”

“PIO 2?

“Present—” says Joshua, flicking a paper clip across the table and into Vernon’s nth latte of the day. “—and voting.”

“Next. Assistant Business Manager.”

“Prese—”

“Okay, got it.” Chan brandishes a look of offense when Wonwoo cuts him off. “Business Manager?”

“Present and voting. Do we really have to keep doing this one by one?” 

Mingyu has a point, Seungcheol mentally agrees. But his god damned seniors wrote in the damned constitution and bylaws that every meeting of SVT (Society of Virtuous Timetravellers. He’s in the process of renaming it because your organization that’s supposed to be for history and culture is attracting weirdos instead— and two of them are Soonyoung and Seokmin) must abide by strict parliamentary procedures, so he has no choice but to suck it up and listen as Wonwoo continues to read out the succeeding positions on the attendance list, and it’s starting to sound a lot like a lullaby.

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting.” The scratch from Wonwoo’s throat signals Seungcheol that it’s to zone back in. “Vice Chairperson-External?”

“Present and voting.”

Your voice draws Seungcheol's attention. He turns his head towards you and he notices the sheets of binded up papers you have in your hands, straightened with a few taps on the table surface before you settle them back down, a swell of pride when he sees what’s printed on the topmost page. 

It’s impeccably organized, the task he assigned to you only three days prior. Hell, you even have page tabs sticking out of the sides of every page. Your work ethic never fails to impress him. On top of that, you’re always so professional— able to separate your personal and org life with strict barriers in between because even though you and Junhui have been friends for ten years, your sharp glare holds no reservations when you catch him folding paper turtles with sticky notes right next to you when inside the meeting room.

“Sorry,” Jun breathes out. You retract your leg from under the table after giving him a discreet kick.

Anyway, Seungcheol has high hopes for you, and he’s eyeing you to replace him as SVT’s Chairperson next year (he’s already in the process of manipulating you into taking the job: the compliments he gives away aren’t for free). You’re perfect. You’re flawless. There’s no one else fit for the position but you. 

Which is why the next course of events comes as nothing less than a shock to him.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?” Wonwoo calls out but is met with silence. He looks around. “VCI?”

No answer. You scoff.

“Alright, moving on. Mr. Chair?” 

Seungcheol stiffens, second-guessing what he’d just heard, but the near-invisible crooked twitch of the corner of your mouth proves that no, that wasn’t just his imagination. You just scoffed. A sharp noise laced with derision and contempt. That should’ve been the first sign that something is off.

“Present,” he coughs out, resigning his attention back to the meeting he has to preside over. It must be nothing. Even you can get annoyed sometimes. Maybe Jun is fucking around again and you’ve just had about enough.

“There are thirteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair. We are in quorum.”

“Thank you. Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s—”

The office door swings open. 

“Sorry, I’m late!”

And Mr. VCI rushes in with his white coat still hanging off his shoulders. The meeting is put to an abrupt pause as Jeonghan hastily walks up to his assigned seat, trying to explain the reason for his tardiness. “Our lab session took longer than expected,” Jeonghan huffs out, dragging out the chair next to him. “Dr. Han wouldn’t let us—”

“It’s common decency to enter the room and sit down quietly when you’re late so as to not disturb the ongoing meeting. Especially when you haven’t informed the body beforehand.”

Seungcheol flinches when he hears the interruption of your sharp tone. His head quickly snaps to your direction before gleaning Jeonghan’s reaction. His friend’s jaw tightens but he says nothing. That should’ve been the second sign.

“Mr. Chair, may we proceed with the reading of today’s agenda?”

He eyes you carefully and, with a hesitant drawl anchoring his tongue, proceeds with the meeting while Jeonghan quietly settles into his seat. “Mr. VCI, you may send your excuse letter later for record keeping. Anyhow, Mr. Secretary, please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting.” Wonwoo does as instructed. The problem is, Seungcheol can’t hear anything that he’s saying. Not when his seat is exceedingly uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s not his seat. It’s the two people cornering his seat that’s the problem.

Cold sweat breaks out from his forehead. The air is stuffy. You and Jeonghan lock eyes for zero-point-five seconds and there’s a chill in the atmosphere that only Seungcheol can feel. What the fuck is going on?

“Thank you Mr. Secretary. We’ll begin with the first agenda— SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. Alright. As you all may know, this will be our organization’s first event for the academic year, thus I am expecting everyone’s undivided cooperation in making sure that this event will be a success. We have already discussed the initial details of the event during the previous meeting, and we also distributed the tasks to the officers and committees.” He flips through a page and clears his throat. “I believe our Vice Chair External was tasked to scout for the venue. Ms. VCE, have you prepared your presentation?”

You nod, rising from your seat. “Yes, Mr. Chair. I’ve prepared a comprehensive list of all our options.” Okay, Seungcheol breathes in through nose. You seem normal now. Maybe he was just overthinking things. “I ask for everyone’s assistance in distributing the copies.”

Seungcheol looks at the text written in bold when you pass a copy to him— SVT ORYE & MT 20XX: VENUE PROPOSAL. While everyone is passing the paperclip-bound photocopies to each other, you take the liberty to start speaking. “If you look at the second page, you can see the overview of the entire document. I’ve listed five possible venues and compiled their respective addresses, rates, inclusions, menus, and of course, pictures for your reference. We’ll look at each of them one by one, starting with—”

You pause. Jeonghan is raising his hand. Your eyebrow twitches. Seungcheol gets a bad feeling. “Yes, Mr. VCI?”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” he says. “I’d like to ask why exactly are all of these venues located in the mountains? Don’t we have other options? It would be fine if it were just us officers, but I believe holding the event in such terrains would be far too inconvenient for more or less a hundred people.”

A very bad feeling.

“I appreciate your insight,” you respond. Uh oh. Your smile is strained and Seungcheol knows it. That’s the smile you wear when you’re about to pulverize a representative for a disadvantageous partnership to the ground. “However, I’d like to bring to your recollection that the theme of this year’s Orye is traditional South Korean folklore. That considered, I came up with the judgment that the mountainous and forested areas would be the most appropriate and immersive venue if we wish to bring this concept to life. I hope that is clear, Mr. VCI. Anyway—”

“It’s still impractical, Ms. VCE.” 

Your face stiffens.

Jeonghan just cut you off. 

Shit, he just cut you off. 

He stands up, leveling you from across the table. “What about our members with asthma? Heart problems? What if it rains on the day of the event? Do you expect everyone to climb up a mountain trail in all these conditions?”

“If you read through my document before inadvertently interrupting me, Mr. VCI, you’d know that three out of the five venues offer uphill transportation in order to get to the accommodations. And although I understand your reservations about the possibility of inclement weather, may I remind you that it’s also the driest season of the year. You’re being unreasonable.”

Fuck. Seungcheol thinks he needs to butt in but he can’t find the timing when there’s literally an invisible fucking electric fence deterring him from reaching the both you. He catches a glimpse of Joshua’s concerned eyebrows. ‘Do something,’ his friend’s eyes say. He’s about to until you drop a sentence that shoots the tension off the roof.

“Furthermore, I’ve surveyed all of the officers through text if they agree with my venue proposal and I was met with no objections. You’d know if you opened any of my messages last night, Jeonghan.”

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, you called him by his first name. 

You never call anyone by their first name. At least not during meetings and it’s very clear that this is a reason for alarm because everyone else’s eyes fly wide open. Except Jeonghan’s. He just looks pissed— mirroring your very own expression. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong and Seungcheol is slowly starting to realize that this argument isn’t just about the venue conflict.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat for the nth time, a wound might break open. “We will take our VCI’s concern into consideration. If you believe holding our Orye in the mountains is impractical, where do you suggest we should hold it instead?”

Jeonghan’s shoulders relax. He gives you a momentary look before settling back into his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.” You do the same. Seungcheol breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’d like to suggest that we hold it by the beach and sea. Not only would it be more accessible, it would also be considerably cheaper considering there’d be no extra expenses for transportation up the hiking trail. There are also more options if we hold it on the beach. I already have contacts from last year’s set of events. We don’t have to worry about negotiations.”

Seungcheol nods in response. He’s about to say something but once again, he hears an unmistakable scoff from your direction. “Of course, you’d go for the low effort option.”

Oh no. Oh god, no.

Jeonghan’s eyes dart towards you. “What was that?”

Seungcheol doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

“I’m just saying that it’s so like you to go for the easy way out.”

He doesn’t get paid for this at all.

“What are you trying to tell me here, Ms. VCE?” Jeonghan’s tone is getting more pointed, and the rest of the table are starting to pick up on what’s going on. Mingyu is slowly inching off of his seat and finding the right time to book it. Chan and Seokmin are nervously flitting their eyes back and forth between Jeonghan and you. Minghao hao stopped paying attention. He’s got his airpods on and scrolling through his phone. 

“The sea is not theme-appropriate for our event, Mr. VCI,” you firmly press on. “There are myths and folklore that reference the sea and ocean, however as an introductory event for our organization we should defer from making far too uncommon references since most of our members are beginners to our advocacy.”

Vernon is about to be swallowed by his chair. Seungkwan has his face in his hands. Seungcheol’s phone vibrates and it’s a message from Wonwoo. Should I include all of this in the minutes? he asks. Seungcheol isn’t even sure if this argument is still about the venue.

“May I also add that beach events are overused. Everyone holds acquaintance parties, Christmas parties, sensitivity trainings at beaches and beach resorts. Should we follow that template, I doubt our event would be memorable enough for our members to remember.”

“Then it’d be the obligation of the program committee to make it memorable.” The said committee flinches upon hearing Jeonghan’s words. Joshua and Junhui don’t look like they agree with the additional burden. Jihoon’s forehead is wrinkling from secondhand stress. “We don’t need to sacrifice the affordability and accessibility of our location in order to hold a note-worthy event. And, may I also reiterate that we should consider our members with health problems, Ms. VCE.”

This is enough. This is probably enough. Maybe it’s time for Seungcheol to intervene.

“However, I understand,” Jeonghan continues. “I understand that it’s not easy for you to be considerate.”

But how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you two fucks won’t stop provoking each other?

“Oh, for god’s sake!” It’s hopeless. It’s gone out of control. Your voice has bordered on yelling ang Seungcheol himself is afraid of being caught in between. “Are you still mad about the cat thing?!”

What is the cat thing? What in the hell is actually going on?

“This is not about the cat thing and you know that.” There’s a ruffle in Jeonghan’s voice. He lets out a groan and throws his head back with his fingers digging into his hair. “Fuck. Let’s talk later.”

Yes. Yes, please just talk later so we can move on with the meeting.

“Did you just swear at me?”

Nevermind.

There’s a second silence. One second— until the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth twitches and he expels a huff of incredulity. It’s ominous. It’s a harbinger of uncomfortable destruction. “So swearing is crossing the line, but refusing to let me meet your parents and forcing us to keep this relationship a secret is completely justifiable?”

Well shit.

This meeting is done for.

Silence washes over the office once again. Wide eyes are being exchanged and not even Wonwoo is filling the tension with his incessant typing on the laptop. Chair, I don’t think I should include this part in the minutes, Seungcheol receives another message from him. Of course he shouldn’t. A relationship reveal isn’t part of the agenda. Neither is a breakup but he fears it’s teetering to that outcome.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s suffocatingly uncomfortable and Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.

“Well,” you simmer. “I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, isn’t it?”

“Damn.” Soonyoung receives an elbow from Jihoon. He gets hushed down very quickly to make room for another agonizing exchange between you and Jeonghan. 

“Is that literally all you have to say? You’re so insensitive, it drives me fucking nuts. This is why it’s so hard to keep seeing you—”

“Oh, so you think I’m not having a hard time? If you can’t understand why I had to do that, then let’s just stop seeing each other!”

“Fine, I’m glad we’re on the same page this time.”

“Great!”

“Great.”

“Your clothes better be out of my closet by tomorrow.”

“Throw them away, I don’t need them.”

“I will! Thanks for the suggestion!”

Things have now gone beyond the point of salvation and he can’t even interject to formally end this disaster of a meeting.

“Mr. Chair, I apologize, but I’m afraid I will be leaving early today.” Oh, so now you remember his existence. You’re fuming, slinging over your shoulder bag and haphazardly collecting your things from the table, and Seungcheol simply massages his temples and nods in acknowledgement to your sudden leave. “Please go through the document at your discretion and I’ll be respecting whatever decision the body makes. Thank you and have a good day.”

Just like that, you’re gone. Jeonghan also starts collecting his things. “My phone lines are open in case you need anything. Goodbye.” With that, he also disappears with the harsh swing and slam of the door, leaving behind another blanket of uncomfortable silence for everyone else to drown in.

Seungcheol sighs. He feels a headache kicking in. 

“So...are we having the event in the mountains or by the sea?”

He groans.

Is it too late to file a resignation?

*‎

The following week has been nothing less than hell for SVT (Seungcheol has yet to change to the org name. He’s getting there. Slowly. Fuck university bureaucracies). The Orye is fast approaching, so there are still a lot of matters to be settled— printing documents, processing permits, making calls. The venue dispute is yet to be settled. Mr. Chair instructed a team to check out the mountain and sea accommodations you and Jeonghan forwarded within the weekend to get a better feel of both options.

There’s still so much work, which honestly doesn’t pose a problem with Boo Seungkwan, one of the org’s information officers. He’s used to it, being a member of SVT since his freshman year and all. This workload is nothing to SVT. Nothing to you.

It’s almost like you’re a machine. Printing documents? You’re a one-woman printing shop. Processing permits? You’ve befriended all the office heads and one word from you will get the event approved. It’s basic shit. Completely rudimentary. Seungkwan has always been at awe with how you operate. But right now, the problem is not the work. 

It’s the work environment that’s the problem.

“Can someone pass me the stapler?”

Your voice cracks into the tense silence in the office like a cold blade, causing Seungkwan to flinch and look up from his paperwork. The whirring of the printer fills in the void left behind by your voice, with Chan carefully organizing the freshly printed pages with tight lips. You’re met with no response. He locks eyes with Joshua. The stapler is beside Jeonghan, who’s running through the program for the event. They share a look of dread.

“Where is the stapler?” You look up from the table. The clear stiffening of your face upon noticing where the damned thing is forces knots into Seungkwan’s temples. Oh god. Here we go. “Nevermind.”

The stupid stapler skids across the table. It’s been transported from one end to your end. Jeonghan’s eyes are glued to his laptop when he slides it down. Jun is nervously hovering behind him. Seungkwan wants to throw up.

“Jun,” Jeonghan calls out. “How many steps does it take for you to get from one end of the meeting table to the other?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Can you try walking from here to the other end of the table?”

Jun is sweating. He hesitantly nods and slowly creaks away from his spot behind Jeonghan, cautious steps towards your end of the table. Three steps. All eyes are on him. Five steps. Seungkwan is not religious but he’s making the sign of the cross. Seven steps. 

“Wow. Ten steps is easier and faster than I thought! Anyway, you can come back now, Jun. I have some questions regarding—”

Swoosh!

Something rockets through the air, missing Jeonghan’s face by a mere inch from its trajectory. Holy shit. It hits the wall behind Jeonghan and crashes into the floor. “My bad,” you announce. “I wondered how quick it’d be if I threw something from here to there. It’s definitely faster than just walking.”

Assault. That must be assault. This is insane. This is getting out of hand. Seungkwan can’t deal with this shit anymore.

“I can’t fucking deal with this shit anymore!”

As he says, the moment you and Jeonghan leave the office to attend your respective classes. Jun takes a hefty intake of air and everyone relaxes almost immediately. “Seriously. Why should we suffer because they can’t hold their relationship together?!” he fumes. “If they wanted to break up, they could’ve done it in private. I’m sick and tired of walking on pins and needles whenever both of them are around!”

Murmurs of agreement break out. If their Chair was here, they would’ve been scolded. Thank fucking god he’s at the admin office processing their name change. “This reminds me of the time my parents got divorced,” Soonyoung offhandedly mentions while fiddling through their budget plan.

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him. “Wasn’t that also the time you started perceiving yourself as a tiger as a coping mechanism?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus christ.”

“I agree with Seungkwan,” Minghao announces. He had just finished sweeping up the shattered stapler from the ground. “I can’t keep up with them anymore. Whenever I’m with our VCE I have to talk shit about the other. Why don’t we just lock them up in a closet so they can fuck and make up?”

A grimace creeps into Chan’s face. “I abhor the image you’ve just supplanted into my mind.”

Minghao furrows his brows. “Who told you to imagine them having sex in our dirty storage closet? Weirdo.” Chan is unable to say anything back. “Anyway, how do we fix this? I have to meet with Jeonghan hyung for dinner and I’m running out of bad things to say about his ex-girlfriend.”

“I thought the plan was to lock them up in the closet?” Seokmin tries to clarify. They’re all actually considering it. Seungkwan is sure they have a death wish.

“You guys can’t be serious. Didn’t you see Vice Chair’s face when hyung walked into the room earlier? She looked like she was considering murder, I had the fucking chills. We are not locking them in a closet unless you all want it to end with a dead body in our office.” Seungkwan pauses. “Thirteen. Thirteen dead bodies if she finds out we orchestrated it.”

“Then what should we do?” Vernon asks. “Get one of them to resign?”

“No!” Soonyoung interjects. “I can’t deal with another divorce!”

Jihoon’s face contorts. “They aren’t your parents. You didn’t even know they were together until they broke up.”

“Still,” Seokmin joins in. “I don’t want any of them to leave SVT.”

Jun presses his lips together. “I think I saw her drafting a resignation letter earlier.”

There is silence. Then the dawning of realization. Then chaos erupts.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no way.”

“We can’t let that happen!”

“Let’s burn her letter before she can submit it!”

“Nobody let her near the office!”

They’re all behaving like idiots, but Seungkwan has to agree. There is without a doubt that even though your breakup has recently put the organization into an uncomfortably tight spot— SVT would be done for if either of you leave. Seungcheol hyung can’t shoulder everything by himself. The both of you are the bedrock of SVT’s internal and external affairs respectively. Resignation is out of the question. 

“Heh. You’re all overlooking something.”

It’s a new voice. Seungkwan wondered when this fucker would speak up, and he’s making his entrance in a gratingly obnoxious way.

Mingyu is sitting on Seungcheol’s swivel chair in the latter’s absence. He slowly spins it around, facing the rest of the members with the pads of his fingers pressed together. “To fix a problem, we should find out the root cause first.” Seungkwan wants to hit him, but Mingyu looks like he’s onto something. “Nobody’s resigning. I have a plan.”

*‎

Jihoon didn’t want to have anything to do with this.

It’s not his business whoever from his orgmates are fucking around or have completely fucked their relationship. It’s not his business whether or not you and Jeonghan have the chance to get back together again.

“If your previous supplier didn’t scam us last summer, we wouldn’t even be out here right now.”

Yet that is exactly what he’s been tasked to do— to dig his nose into your business, on a hot day, while having to canvass printing shops in the district. But finding a replacement supplier for your org shirts is the least of his concerns at the moment because—

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: any update??? have you gotten through her yet?????]

How the hell is he supposed to fish out any information from you about your relationship with Jeonghan?!

“But these rates are seriously unreasonable. I’ll put this one on the table,” you say, ticking off a box from your checklist and Jihoon is sweating bullets. “What do you think, Hoon?”

Sure, you two work pretty well together and you praise his competence any single time you get the chance, but that’s the problem. You aren’t close. Your relationship is strictly professional. Hell, your text convo is nothing but org-related and Jihoon doesn’t fucking understand why he has to be the one doing this job when he can give less than two shits about the situation. 

“Let’s check out the next place on the list first,” he replies. “I think the quality for this one is still better than the previous.

Dealing with someone else’s relationship problems wasn’t part of the job description when he got elected as treasurer. He’s got his own love life (or lack thereof) to worry about.

“Alright,” you reply with a deep exhale. It’s hot, and you’re getting tired. He’s also getting tired. Can’t you all just go home? “We’ll take a break first. Let’s continue after getting a drink, but where’s Mingyu? Did he get diarrhea or something?”

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: hyung status report plz.] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Hoshi: wow we sound like actual secret agents.]

Jihoon feels his head starting to hurt. “I’ll text him.”

“Thanks.”

Mingyu isn’t coming back. Not until Jihoon manages to get something out of you. According to Jun, you’ve branded him as ‘Jeonghan-allied’ (whatever the fuck that means), so there’s no way you’d be talking if that street lamp is hanging around. “They went to the same high school! I can’t trust bastards from Hyangnam anymore,” Jun quoted from you personally, and they all started wondering what your conjectured alignment for each of them is. 

However, Mingyu is functionally obligated to tag along with your canvassing venture today because he’s SVT’s business manager and Jihoon has all your org money. You’re here because you can’t stay put unless you’re directly involved in the task. Mingyu asked permission to go to the bathroom earlier to give his comrade an opportunity. That was forty-five minutes ago. Jihoon still hasn’t gotten anything from you.

“It’s an emergency, he says. A big one. Gigantic.” Mingyu never said that. Jihoon’s phone is a black screen. “Public toilets aren’t trustworthy. He went to his apartment. He told us to continue without him.”

You grimace with the click of your tongue. “Gross. Those god damned Hyangnam bastards. Let’s go. I need something cold.”

Time is ticking, his phone keeps on buzzing, and Jihoon grows steadily more restless by the minute. You two finish ordering and pay for your two lemonades with SVT money. “It’s the least this damn org can do for us,” you say. He fears you might actually resign, and it doesn’t do his ever escalating nerves a favor. How does he do it? How does he bring up Yoon Jeonghan without invoking your fury?

“Jihoon,” you call out, and he flinches. “What’s wrong? You’ve been spacing out since this morning.”

You’re both sitting on the nice leather seats of the air-conditioned cafe. Being out of the heat seems to have bettered your mood. Maybe he can wiggle something out while you’re pacified by the lemonade and cool air.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat. His knees are shaking. Shit. This is harder than processing your cash advance for the fucking orientation. He needs to ease it in. To bring it up discreetly. “I never really suspected that you and Jeonghan hyung were dating.”

Regret comes instantaneously the moment the words fall out of his mouth. 

So much for being discreet. Your face stiffens. Jihoon knows he fucked up badly.

“I—I mean, I’m not trying to comment on anything, I was just surprised to find out.” Dammit. Wrong move. He might get blacklisted like you did with Mingyu. He’s not panicking because their stupid operation might fail. He’s panicking because he’s gonna lose the bragging right of being on good terms with SVT’s intimidatingly unapproachable Vice Chair.

The ice in your drink clinks around. Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut and prepares for the worst.

“God. I can’t believe I dated him in the first place.”

Then he opens one eye. He sees you swirling your lemonade with one hand, the other used as a resting place for your chin before you take a sip from the straw and continue complaining. “I can’t stand him. I shouldn’t have let him sweet talk me into that first fucking date, that venomous bastard. His face is a weapon. I should’ve known better than to trust that face.” 

Jihoon’s eyes are now fully opened. He discreetly pulls out his phone from his pocket— the device still constantly buzzing— and opens his recorder app all while his heart is nervously barrelling against his ribcage from the remnants of his fear. “Did he like—” Jihoon presses record, “—cheat on you or something?”

“What? No way. He’d never do that.”

“Then,” he continues prodding. “Why did you two break up?”

“Ugh,” you grunt, taking another long sip from your drink before slamming it down the table with a thunk. Jihoon flinches. He secures his phone underneath the table, checking if it’s still recording everything. “Don’t get me started. You don’t get it, Hoon. He’s just so—”

Jihoon never expected you to just lay down everything for him. You just continue pouring and pouring everything out like a fountain. A fountain of dirty laundry and too many swear words that his audio recording might get flagged if it gets uploaded online. This...was easier than expected.

*‎

Seokmin’s eyes are narrowed at his senior— zoomed in and in focus as the aforementioned finishes talking to a group of SVT’s new members. He’s taken a step back with a stack of flyers pressed to his chest. He can’t miss anything. He can’t miss a single thing.

“Thank you! I better be seeing your faces during the event, alright? Enjoy your lunch!”

Jeonghan is giving them the copy of the program for your upcoming Orye and MT. Freshmen. All women, as far as his eyes can tell, and they’re all giggling after his senior bids them off. He’s never seen Jeonghan hyung smile at you like that. In fact, he’s never even seen him wave at you goodbye like what he’s doing right now. Has he moved on? Oh no. This is bad. This plan might be ruined before they could even conduct an intervention. 

“Seokmin, what’s wrong?” asks Jeonghan, snapping him out from the brink of a spiral of despair. “You don’t look too good. Is the weather too hot? Should we take a break?”

“N—no, I’m alright! Let’s keep going!” Seokmin needs to know if his hyung’s unnaturally sweet behavior was an isolated case. There’s not enough information in the air to make a solid conclusion.

“Well, I’m not alright,” Jeonghan grimaces. “The heat is unbearable. Let’s have lunch first, then we’ll continue. Go find us a good place to eat.”

A lump grows in Seokmin’s throat and he nervously swallows, watching as Jeonghan pulls out his phone and starts typing a message, to the SVT group chat probably to give them an update. Or to one of the girls he was talking to earlier. Shit. “Hyung, who are you texting?” he asks. Jeonghan responds with a pause, a suspicious smile, and tells him that ‘it’s a secret, hehe,’ and that he should hurry and look for a nice restaurant because he’s starving.

That wasn’t a helpful answer at all. Seokmin’s anxiety grows by the second. “What...what do you want to eat, hyung?” He should ask more questions later.

“You pick,” is Jeonghan’s reply with yet another grin that puts him ill at ease. “I’m placing my faith in you Seokmin. It better be a good place.”

There’s another lump in his throat. Oh god. This guy sure knows how to pressure people in the weirdest ways. And now instead of prodding around to figure out if his senior has indeed moved on or still has lingering feelings for you, he’s scrolling through his phone trying to look up a good restaurant— panic-stricken because god forbid he make a disappointing choice— while Jeonghan starts talking to another SVT member who just happened to pass by.

“We’re having it next month,” he overhears Jeonghan speaking, momentarily taking away his eyes from his phone just to see his hyung yet again looking and smiling at the org member with an alarming amount of sweetness pouring out of his eyes. “I’ll see you there?”

“Y—yes…!”

His observation is cut short by the buzz of his phone. A message bar pops up, covering the top of the screen and preemptively stopping his resto search.

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Seungkwan: seok, do we have updates??? jihoon hyung hasn’t gotten back to use since thirty minutes ago!!] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Minghao: I told you all this plan was hopeless] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: why is noona telling me to take herbal teas and drink lots of water?????]

“So, where are we eating?”

Seokmin’s bones rattle and the phone nearly jumps out of his hands like a live fish.

“Talking to people is tiring,” he hears his senior lament with a long sigh. “Seokmin-ah, you take over after lunch. Let’s go.”

Go where? He hasn’t picked a place yet! Why are there so many food places around campus?! Jeonghan quickly starts walking and, out of even more panic, Seokmin picks a random direction, robotically taking the lead, brain overheating and eyes spinning out of focus until muscle memory lands them across the street of a hotpot place he frequents, just a few blocks away from campus. “O—oh, haha! Hyung, we’re here! Let’s—let’s quickly get inside, yes—”

He stops upon the realization that Jeonghan isn’t following him along the crosswalk. When Seokmin turns his head back, he sees Jeonghan staring at the place with a dampened expression. His first thought is maybe Jeonghan hyung doesn’t like hotpot. His second thought is maybe he shouldn’t be stopping in the middle of the road, so he quickly pads back to the sidewalk. 

“Hyung…? Are— are you not in the mood for hotpot? Should we go somewhere else?” Seokmin’s gut churns, devastated because he had just betrayed his hyung’s trust in finding an acceptable restaurant. What’s wrong with hotpot at Red House? Did he have a bad experience here? But his place is so good! He and Soonyoung and Jun hyung have been eating here twice a week, Wednesday and Saturdays, ever since you recommended the place to them as your favorite, and— oh.

So, that’s the problem.

You’ve probably eaten here with him too.

“No, no. We’re not going anywhere.” Jeonghan’s demeanor suddenly switches gears. He brushes past him with a sudden determined look, not looking back even when Seokmin calls after him.

“Hyung, I know another place nearby. We don’t have to—”

“Let’s get inside.”

Seokmin has no freaking idea how to dissect or interpret this reaction. Nervous steps follow his senior inside the restaurant, and a server welcomes them both and leads them to a table by the window. “Oh, you’re not here with your girlfriend today,” says the waiting staff after they’ve made their orders, and he sees Jeonghan visibly flinch in the middle of passing back the menu. Jeonghan simply responds with a stiff smile. Seokmin is sure that he had just screwed up big time.

Why did the server have to mention you? Why?! Now, he can’t help but look at the server with an utter look of betrayal as he sets the ingredients on the table. “Is...is there something wrong, sir?” asks the server with uneasy concern. Seokmin’s bottom lip juts out, shaking his head with a sniffle, and thanks the server with a weak voice and tone.

Jeonghan doesn’t appear to be faring any better. While waiting for the broth to boil, all Seokmin could do is soak up the steadily deflating expression of his hyung and worry that it might affect the taste of the food somehow. He was pretty sure Jeonghan is already over you, considering he seemed to be mildly flirting with the org members earlier and all. But now he’s not so sure. Not when his hyung is poking his chopstick into a block of tofu with a gut wrenching look of longing.

“Hyung...” Seokin makes an attempt. “I’m—I’m sorry for bringing you here, I didn’t know it was—”

“Seokmin-ah.” Jeonghan speaks along with the crank of the stove. “A gente world of advice: don’t bring up sensitive topics when the person you’re talking to has a weapon on him. You’re going to get in trouble.”

The sunlight leaking through the window gives a dangerous glint to the scissors Jeonghan is holding. Seokmin bites his tongue. Jeonghan cuts up the noodles and the two start eating quietly.

Seokmin loves eating. He really does. But this time, every bite tastes like hot sand, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to get indigestion afterwards.

He swallows down another mouthful with the help of a glass of water, and as he’s trying to get the mix of meat and vegetables down his throat, the sound of utensils that were previously clattering suddenly stops. When Seokmin puts the glass down, he sees Jeonghan seasoning the warm broth with salt.

The natural salt that comes out of your eyes when you start crying.

Holy shit, his hyung is crying.

“Sorry, I just— haha, the soup’s a little spicy, right?”

No. No it’s not. They ordered chicken broth. The soup isn’t spicy at all.

“H—hyung…”

Seokmin’s eyes are now also starting to water. Oh no. Oh no, dear god, what has he done? He didn’t mean to bring him here and reawaken stashed away memories. All he wanted to do was find a good place to eat!

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.”

This was a mistake. They should’ve just had kimbap and ramyeon at the nearby 7-Eleven.

*‎

“So, let me get this straight. One of them did nothing but talk shit about the other for thirty minutes, and the other started crying because Seokmin brought him to her favorite restaurant.”

The SVT officers (minus their Chair and Vice Chars) have reconvened the next day at the office. Their upcoming event isn’t a priority right now. The only thing on the agenda is the problem with you and Yoon Jeonghan— to which Mingyu is trying to wrack his brains in coming up with something in light of their initial investigation. 

“After listening to the recording Hoon sent, I don’t think she hates Jeonghan. She sounded like was just nitpicking in the heat of the moment,” says Jun. “If she’s still angry at him...maybe she isn’t over him yet? Maybe there’s still a chance?”

All eyes are on Jihoon, who witnessed your rant firsthand. 

“I don’t know. All I can say is that she looked a little sad while talking about him. She didn’t add anything else beyond the recording.” It’s not like the recording was of any help. Most of it was just you calling Jeonghan a son of a bitch, a piece of shit, and so on, as well as a few tangents about Mingyu that he himself didn’t quite appreciate. He thought he was your favorite. Like, why are you assuming that he’s on Jeonghan’s side?! They weren’t even friends back in high school! 

He spins the office chair in annoyance. To think he gave you a higher score than Jeonghan on your quarterly evaluation. Maybe he should ask Cheol to take it back.

“Well, if one of them is still on the hook, then there’s still a possibility that they can still get back together,” Wonwoo conjectures, eliciting murmurs of agreement from the rest.

“Does this mean we can finally lock them inside a fucking closet?”

“We are not locking them in a closet,” Seungkwan says. Minghao rolls his eyes at the dismissal. “We can’t do that. But we can bring in some forced proximity in a different way.”

Mingyu stops swiveling the chair. Why is Seungkwan looking straight at him? Wait. Why are they all looking straight at him? His throat tightens. He forces down a swallow. What, what, what’s the matter, why are they all looking at him?

“Oh no!”

Suddenly, Seungkwan starts a one-man drama. He exclaims, an arm jutting into the air before he lets the back of the loose hand drop onto his forehead, stumbling into Vernon who’s standing next to him.

“I just remembered I have a doctor’s appointment this Saturday— the same day where I’m supposed to accompany our Vice Chairs and Business Manager in checking out the venues! Oh no! I don’t think I can make it!”

Right. He along with Seungkwan, Chan, Jeonghan, and you are scheduled to evaluate each of the places on your list so that you can finalize the event venue. Not long after, Chan also breaks into a gasp, catching Seungkwan’s signal. “Oh my! I forgot I also, uh, have a thing on Saturday! What a bummer!”

“Then, I also—”

“No!” 

Mingyu winces. He’s shocked. He’s appalled. He’s offended. Why is he being yelled at?! Wasn’t he supposed to go along with the other two? “You don’t have a thing on Saturday, Mingyu. You have to be there to make sure that things don’t go wrong!” Seungkwan tells him, and at first he understands. He’s goes ‘oh, right, of course, yeah, sure,” but the moment what that situation entails finally dawns upon him— the fact that he has to be stuck in between you and Yoon Jeonghan for at least ten hours, maybe more— his blood runs cold and his face pales. There’s no way in hell he’s dealing with that.

“Why me?! Why can’t Joshua hyung go?”

Joshua answers with an offended look of bewilderment. 

“Hey, it’s your assignment,” answers Jihoon. “And it was your idea to try and get them back together again. You have the moral obligation to make sure this shit actually works.”

There is no hope to get out of this. They adjourn the meeting and everyone starts filtering out the office— not without giving him looks of sympathy and pats on the back before leaving. “Good luck,” Wonwoo says in passing. Vernon sends him a salute before closing the door. Damn him and his meddling ass. He should’ve just let your relationship die out for good.

The day of reckoning comes. It’s five in the morning at the campus parking lot, you and Jeonghan on the opposite ends of his car, and Mingyu already wants to tuck himself in bed for the day. You’re tapping your feet in impatience, looking at your phone with a glare, while Jeonghan pockets his phone with a sigh and welcome’s himself into the front seat of Mingyu’s car with a distinct slam. You huff and do the same into the backseat. 

Shit. This might actually be his last day on earth. Mingyu hurries into the driver’s before either of you yell at him to get moving.

“Tell Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan that they’re getting sanctioned for this,” grits Jeonghan. Mingyu closes the door and prepares himself for an inevitable six to eight hours of hell.

“The kids are sick and you want to penalize them?” you interject from the back. Mingyu notices Jeonghan’s jaw clench. He shuts his eyes tight and whispers a few prayers. “You’re abusing your authority, Mr. VCI. Cut them some slack.”

“Negligence of duty. Section one under General Prohibitions,” rebuts Jeonghan, making eye contact with you through the front view mirror. “Failure to inform ahead of time the inability to do a task or assignment delegated to them shall be considered an act of negligence on the part of the officer. I’m not abusing any authority, sweetheart. I am acting well within my functions. It’s too early for this kind of—”

Silence drops. So does the temperature in the car which at this point feels like negative fourteen degrees. Jeonghan stifles a cough and rolls down the window for air. You look down and flit through the pages of the document you brought. Mingyu’s grip on the steering wheel tightens and he wants to cry.

“Can we go now? Please? We have six places to visit and I really don’t want to be driving until midnight.”

“We can rotate,” you tell him. “Let’s switch drivers after every location.”

Something tells Mingyu that if he lets your explosive temper behind the wheel, this will not only be the last he’ll be seeing of his cherished car that his parents got him as a gift for his twenty-first birthday, but this will also be the last he’ll be seeing of this mortal realm as well.

“No, haha, it’s okay,” he answers, finally starting the engine. “You two have been working really hard for this event so the least I can do is drive.”

“Well, alright. But there better be no more emergencies like last time.”

Mingyu still doesn’t know what you mean by that. Nor does he know why you’ve been giving him herbal teas and digestive supplements. Anyway, the three of you finally hit the road and proceed to your first stop— all the way to Daecheon, which will take about an hour if traffic grants them kindness. Jeonghan rolls the windows back up at some point because besides the ice-cold tension between the both of you, it really is getting cold, and the sky has been cloudy since earlier, and the weather app is telling him that there’s a twenty percent chance of rain. Literally all odds are stacked against him today.

He does live long enough to get through three venues, thankfully. The first one, near Daecheon beach, you complained that the rooms were stuffy and Jeonghan told you to sleep by the ‘goddamned beach if you wanted to feel extra fresh.’ The second beach location couldn’t accommodate your amount of people. The third one— the hanok-style villa in Gyeongsang which you’ve just finished surveying and which Mingyu thought was really nice— Jeonghan said that there’s too many bugs for it to be conducive. You told him to wear a mosquito net ‘you fucking princess,’ while walking back to the car. At this point, it’s already past four in the afternoon. The eleven hours of being trapped in a car with your ex-boyfriend is probably finally getting to your head.

“You really could care less about your members’ well being as long as we do what you want, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t bitten by a single mosquito there. You’re just making problems up to discredit my—”

It’s getting to Mingyu’s head, too. One more minute in this enclosed space with the both of you and he’s jumping out the window.

“Anyway, let’s head to the next location,” you say with a sigh. “Woodland Springs Resort. Luckily, it’s only an hour away.”

Mingyu’s knuckles twitch on the steering wheel. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

He catches your face through the mirror, brows furrowed with a frown. “Mingyu, let me drive this time. You’ve been at it for hours.” 

“She’s right. Go sit in the back, we can take over.”

He has. He’s tired and annoyed and exhausted by the constant fear that you two might actually make a murder scene out of his precious car, that he’s pretty sure that him driving would soon become a road-risk. It would be fine, right? You two have probably expelled your energy, anyway. Or at least about to. Worst case scenario is that Jeonghan hyung pisses you off and you’d expertly crash the car in a way that would only kill him and leave you two alive.

“Okay,” Mingyu weakly breathes out. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit.”

He opens the car and gets out. So do you. So does Jeonghan. The three of you are out of the car. The math isn’t mathing.

“What are you doing?” you ask Jeonghan.

“I’m taking the wheel,” he simply says, already making his way over to the other side of the car.

“What are you talking about, Mingyu was talking to me.” You’re fast. Fast enough to swat away Jeonghan’s hand from the door handle to the driver’s seat. Jeonghan tightly presses his lips together and releases a huff of air. You look at him with sharp eyes with no intention of moving. Mingyu is literally, physically, and positionally caught in between this shit and he wishes he should’ve just floored it.

“I’m driving,” Jeonghan asserts. “You look barely awake, yourself. Do you plan on crashing us or something?”

The worried undertone completely flies over your head. “Are you saying I’m a bad driver?” Mingyu really doesn’t want to witness this argument at this proximity right now. Jeonghan sighs and digs into his hair.

“No, I just want you to—”

Cr—ack! Boom!

Suddenly, there’s thunder.

And when there’s thunder, there’s rain.

Pshhhhhhh!

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hurry and get in, let’s go—”

Mingyu really wanted to yell at that moment. Thankfully, the sky beat him to it.

It starts pouring. The three of you scramble back into the car.

All things considered, you all decided that it’d be too dangerous to stay on the road, taking into account the weather and exhaustion and all, so you looked for a nearby inn through Google Maps and Jeonghan drove you there (yes, he won in the end and you’re still bitter in the backseat). 

Boom! Another round of thunder, and the rain just continues to pour harder and harder. At this rate, you guys won’t be able to check out the rest of the locations today. Meaning, his prison sentence is bound to be extended. God freaking dammit. Mingyu continues to bitterly lament while rushing into the cabin inn. The door jingles upon entry. He lets out a sigh of relief upon being saved from the rain.

“Hi, good evening! Do you still have any rooms available?”

You’re there at the front desk doing your thing, being the externals head and all, while he and Jeonghan wait behind, damp and uncomfortable. He can see his hyung getting more and more impatient by the second, tapping his wet soles against the wooden flooring with his arms crossed. Mingyu can only sigh and hope to take a meditative shower soon, once you’ve booked the three of your rooms.

“Ah, yes,” says the lady behind the front desk. She looks at you, then spares a glance at him and Jeonghan in all their soggy glory, before flitting her eyes back at you. Okay what the hell. He knows they look terrible right now, but that was just rude. “Will it be for the three of you? Unfortunately, we only have one room left available, ma’am, peak season and all, and it’s only good for two people.

“That’s fine, we’ll take—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Judgemental Front Desk Lady interrupts. “I meant a maximum of two people can occupy the room. It’s our policy.”

Well that’s stupid. The hell were you guys supposed to do, then? Run back to the car, get even more wet in the process, and look for another place to stay in this stupid weather? Mingyu can practically see a vein throbbing on the back of your head. He catches your shoulders lift and drop along with an exhale, a momentary pause before you respond. “Can’t you make an exemption? The weather is terrible outside and we really need a place to stay for the time being.”

Mingyu decides to look over and see how the other ticking time bomb is faring, but when he leers over to the side, Jeonghan is no longer beside him. Wet footsteps against wooden floors can be heard. He snaps his head back to the front desk and sees his hyung walking up to you— placing his arm around your freaking waist when he lands next to you, and alarm bells suddenly go off in Mingyu’s head.

“Babe, what’s the problem?”

Goosebumps prick all over his body.

What. 

What the fuck? 

“What’s wrong?”

Mingyu rubs his eyes, thinking that he just saw (and heard) wrong, but no. Yoon Jeonghan has indeed reigned claim over your waist. The fuck? He refocuses into your expression, expecting you to look disgusted and send a kick to his hyung’s shin, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, you flash a look at Jeonghan, then back to the receptionist, peering down at the desk surface where her hand is resting, before looking back up at Jeonghan and nudging yourself closer to him with a sigh. What in the everloving fuck is going on?

“They’re saying that only two people can stay inside the room,” you lament. “This trip really isn’t working out for us. After our disaster of a honeymoon, the last thing I thought would happen was for us to get stranded in Gyeongsang in the middle of a storm.”

“Let’s just go look for another place to stay, sweetheart.” 

“But it’s pouring outside! I can’t let you drive in the weather. It’s too dangerous.”

Honeymoon? What? What the hell is this improv sketch? Why the fuck is his hyung giving you the lovestruck eyes and why are you letting him look at you with lovestruck eyes? Why are you lovestruck-eyeing him back?

“Oh, you’re newlyweds?” asks the receptionist, and Mingyu didn’t think his eyebrows could scrunch up any further until he heard Jeonghan agree.

“We just got married last week,” he says with a sickeningly sweet tone. 

“How lovely!”

“Actually, we just came back from our honeymoon at Geoje Island,” you add. “It’s a long trip, and we wanted to get home as soon as possible, but that...wasn’t exactly an option for us.” Suddenly, you turn your head back to look at him. Now, you’re all looking at him. Why are you all looking at him? This is fucking scary.

You lean into Jeonghan and whisper something into his ear. A look flashes on Jeonghan’s face. He doesn’t like this look.

“Brother, can you please give us a moment?”

There’s a pause. Mingyu’s mouth is hanging slightly ajar and he hesitantly points to himself. Brother? Me? Jeonghan nods and smiles and returns his attention back to you and the receptionist. The three of you are talking about something. In a significantly lower volume. While sending him looks of remorse in between. What the hell are you two bullshitting about now?

Not long after, Mingyu sees the lady drop a room key into your hands and sends you off with a smile. “Second floor. Thank you, and have a great evening!”

“Thanks!” 

Mingyu isn’t exactly sure what just happened or how it happened, but at least you have a place to stay for the night? When the three of you hike up the stairs and spot the room with 203 labeled on the door, Mingyu decides that he needs to know what you fuckers talked about. “How did you do it?” He blocks the door before you could open it. “I thought only two people could use this? How did you get us the room?” Jeonghan and you exchange a look before relenting.

“Your fiance called off your engagement and you were so depressed that you followed us all the way to our Geoje,” you blankly respond.

“Our parents are on vacation so you couldn’t go to them. We were kind enough to let you third wheel on our honeymoon,” adds Jeonghan. Mingyu blinks. “But on the way back it started raining, so we’re stuck here for the moment. We noticed a wedding ring on Soonja’s finger, so it was pretty easy to get her sympathy.

Soonja. You even know the lady’s name, holy fuck. At least that explains the pitiful looks sent his way. But Mingyu is still very much perturbed. The hairs on his arms are still standing. “You two are con artists,” is all he can say back.

You roll your eyes and toss the key to him. “Hey, it got us the room.”

“Right,” Mingyu grunts, catching it mid-air. “You’re both so good at lying, even I’m starting to think you’re still married.”

The doorknob clatters open. You and Jeonghan quickly jump away from each other, and Jeonghan loses the steady hold he had around your waist since earlier. Mingyu stifles a grin. The alarm and embarrassment on both of your faces makes this day’s worth of stress all worth it. 

“Hurry up and get in! I need a shower and a change of clothes, gosh.”

Fortunately, you three prepared extra articles of clothing for the trip, having anticipated sweat from the heat instead of getting pissed on by the rain clouds. Unfortunately, Mingyu lost at rock paper scissors so he gets to shower last. “There’s a drying rack in the bathroom,” you tell them upon exiting, a towel to your head before plopping down on the bed next to the window. 

When Mingyu finishes showering, he hears you and Jeonghan arguing over something again. Cheol’s voice can be heard somewhere too. Upon re-entering the room, he spots you two occupying the floor right by the bed, a laptop sitting on the mattress that’s showing a very tired Seungcheol trying to cut in between your yelling.

“In hindsight, I think the beach in Daecheon is our best option. The kids can run around more freely there.”

“No, you were right about the mountains. The hanok-style villa is better suited for our event theme. We can just add bug repellent to our budget plan.”

“Listen to me for a second—”

“You’re the one who’s not—”

“This could have been an email,” says Seungcheol’s choppy voice thanks to the shitty reception. Yeah. Mingyu isn’t dealing with this. Over twelve hours of being a third party to your arguments is already enough, thank you very much. He drops down the unoccupied bed, already getting comfortable, and uses the nonstop swearing next to him as a lullaby.

Weird enough, it’s an effective lullaby because Mingyu slept like a rock. He yawns, stretches out of bed thanks to the early morning light through the curtains waking him. It’s clear out. The windows have watery dots painting it from the aftermath of the rain.

It’s pretty outside, Mingyu notices, but there’s something more eye-catching than the pretty natural scenery of the mountainside.

The laptop is still on and laying on the bed, pushed further to the edge with a low battery notification obscuring the open document of the event’s program that he’d seen Jeonghan preparing in the car yesterday. But what’s occupying most of the mattress is the both of you— you and Jeonghan— with your printed documents scattered around, surrounding a sight that he probably isn’t meant to see.

You’re laying on Jeonghan’s arm as a pillow, face turned to the side and slightly tucked into chest. Jeonghan’s chin is buried into the top of your head, his legs tangled with yours and the blanket has been kicked off the side. The morning light is showering the both of you like a spotlight. Mingyu snaps a picture. The kids are gonna eat this shit up.

*‎

It’s the day of the event, and Choi Seungcheol has not slept a wink since last night.

There were some last minute things he needed to take care of. Game props, printouts, and powerpoint presentations he forgot to quality check until ten in the evening. Grocery shopping for snacks, and an error in the bus booking. The works. But none of that matters now. They’ve all been settled, everyone has made it to the hanok villa in Gyeongsang in one piece with no asthma attacks nor heart related concerns occurring, and not once had you and Yoon Jeonghan argued ever since last night.

To be honest, it’s freaking him out a little. He wasn’t the only one who had to pull an all-nighter. His two Vice Chairs had to suffer with him too and the both of you have been extremely civil to the point of unease. It’s weird. It’s eerie. Like right now, as you two are welcoming the lines and lines of members in hanboks and traditional attire with matching smiles and pleasantries. You run out of program printouts and ask Jeonghan if he has any left, he gives you a stack, and the exchange ends without even a scoff, a swear, a mock, or even a look of derision.

This is...ominous, to say the least. It’s like the calm before the storm. Choi Seungcheol cannot rest easy.

“What the fuck is going on with them?”

It seems like he isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Currently, it’s lunchtime. They’d just finished presenting the constitution, bylaws, and internal rules and regulations of the organization. Now, they’re queueing up the kids to the food table. 

Among the ushers are you and Jeonghan. Standing next to each other. You aren’t arguing but you aren’t talking to each other either. Joshua is the one who brings it up to the small group preparing the drinks right now— him, Soonyoung, and Vernon. If Joshua doesn’t know the reason for your sudden civility, then no one does. Junhui gets interrogated too, but he provides no answers, only confusion. “Wow. Wild,” is all Jun remarks. They have no idea if you two have made up, have settled your differences, have gotten back together, or all of the above.

It’s fucking with him, especially after weeks of being perpetually on the edge because of your cold war. Seungcheol calls Mingyu to a corner while everyone else is in the midst of preparing for the next part of the program. Mingyu jogs over, mildly scared and mildly confused.

“Hyung,” he calls out. “What’s up?”

“Our two Vice Chairs,” Seungcheol starts. He looks over at the center field where the members are sitting. Chan and the rest are still handing out the paper slips. He can still interrogate Mingyu. “You went with them for location scouting. Did something happen between them?”

Mingyu looks taken aback. “Uh.” He stiffens. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him.

“Kim Mingyu.” 

“Define ‘something,’” Mingyu delays. 

Now, this is suspicious. He definitely knows what that something is. Choi Seungcheol isn’t gonna let him off without squeezing the information out of him. “I don’t know,” he huffs. “Anything that could explain why they’re acting like—” 

Seungcheol points in a direction. Mingyu’s eyes follow the trajectory, and his gaze lands on a very alarming scene: Yoon Jeonghan sitting on one of the monoblocks, Yoon Jeonghan seeing you pass by, Yoon Jeonghan standing up, Yoon Jeonghan stopping you with a tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan offering his seat to you, Yoon Jeonghan leaving the scene and busying himself with some other task, after you had taken his seat.

“Like that?”

Mingyu is now sweating. “Uhhhh,” he hesitantly drawls. Then his eyes dart around. Until he spots Seungkwan pass by with a stack of boxes. “Can I talk to my lawyer first?”

“Mingyu.”

“Let’s—let’s—let’s get back to work, hyung! I have to go—”

He attempts to chase Kim Mingyu down. Attempts. Because Mingyu suddenly has the speed of a track and fielder and drags Seungkwan away into the accommodation building, the hanok, and he’s suddenly pulled back by Chan, who’s holding a box containing two or three small pieces of folder up papers. “Hyung,” Chan starts. “It’s your turn to pick.”

Seungcheol furrows his brows. Drat. Kim Mingyu has escaped. “Pick what?”

“Your manito. Duh,” Chan answers. It’s the box he’s been passing out since earlier— a box filled with the names of all the attendees and whoever you pick out, you’re tasked to take care of them throughout the entire trip and pay them special attention. For relationship building, according to Jeonghan, when he pitched the idea. Seungcheol is aware of this mini activity, but he didn’t know he’d be participating. He stares at the remaining three papers. “Hurry up. I still have to give the rest to Seungkwan and Mingyu hyung.”

“Show me some respect,” he scolds, picking out a random name. “They ran inside. Storage, I think.”

Chan hums in acknowledgement and takes the box away. When he’s left, Seungcheol rolls open the piece of paper. Looking at the members gathered around the field right now (who are listening to the intermission number prepared by Seokmin and Jihoon) he notices that a few of the kids are already getting pretty chummy. He sighs, pretty sure that he picked out a new member that’s most probably three years younger than him. How is he supposed to overcome the generation gap? Won’t the kid find it weird if this old man suddenly starts acting close?

Much to his initial relief, a familiar name greets him. Yours, in big bold letters. That’s...that’s pretty doable. His favoritism for you is already blatant to the point that Soonyoung gets jealous. You’d been working hard since, well— the moment you’ve been a member of fucking SVT. He can just tell you to sit and rest and transfer your tasks over to the other guys.

“Hey.”

Seungcheol calls out to you, who’s sitting on the seat Jeonghan gave away earlier. Seokmin and Jihoon are hyping up the crowd (mostly Seokmin), but you’re hunched over in your seat, massaging your temples while looking over a document. “Chair,” you snap up, visibly tired and stressed (and unrested, by the way). “A few members are absent, so the number of members for each group for the team building later are mismatched. Should we keep it as is, or should we transfer some of them?”

A pang of guilt hits him. Christ, he’s been taking advantage of your competence and diligence. “Transfer, but leave that list with me. I’ll take care of it.” He lays a hand on your shoulder, urging you to go rest inside one of the hanoks for now. “You didn’t even nap on the bus. Go get some sleep. I’ll ask one of the guys to wake you before team building.”

You look up at him, smiling. Oh, his poor successor. He’s been overworking you to the bone. “Will do, Chair. Thanks.”

He mirrors your smile, watching fondly as you walk into one of the houses. It’s all warm and sweet. Until it’s not.

Seungcheol jolts. He feels a chill run down his spine. What the fuck? 

He whips his head around, startled by the sudden cold flash. Then, from a few feet away, he spots Jeonghan, preparing the multicolored handkerchiefs for the team building, but has stopped arranging them by color because he is glaring daggers at him. Hello? What in the world? He’s about to approach, but then he staggers in his steps upon seeing you pass by Jeonghan’s station. 

Jeonghan stops working, circling from behind the station to say something to you. You say something back— something that’s enough to tighten Jeonghan’s expression, and Seungcheol knits his brows. He can’t hear what you two are talking about, but he’s pretty sure it’s an argument. Oh god. It is an argument. You’ve got your angry face on and Jeonghan is raking his hair. Oh no. You two have been so well-behaved. You’ve been getting along so, so well lately. Is he at fault for ruining your peace?! How was he supposed to know your ex-boyfriend is a jealous bastard?! He was just doing his task and being nice to you!

“There goes all our progress.”

Seungcheol snaps his head back to see Jun. He’s sipping on a juice box, a leftover from lunch. There’s a good amount of disappointment in his face. “Pro—progress?” 

Junhui pulls down the juice from his mouth, shaking his head. “Hyung. You’ve ruined everything.”

Now, what the fuck is this cryptic bullshit? Jun just walks away, leaving even more crumples in Seungcheol’s brain. Seokmin and Jihoon’s performance is about to end, the mic screeches, and an applause breaks out, but he’s still debating on what to do. Should he pry information out of Jun? Or run after the both of you? However, he gets to do neither because at the end of the intermission, Seokmin does something off-course.

He’s supposed to pass the mic to Seungkwan by now, to announce the short break before team building. But Seungkwan isn’t here, and Seokmin is still holding the mic, and the crowd is still cheering. He meets eyes with Seokmin onstage. A bad feeling hits his gut. And since the breakup meeting that happened a few weeks ago, Seungcheol has learned that whatever his gut is feeling is unquestionably correct.

“The show isn’t over yet! Let’s give it up to our dependable, hot, and arguably aging Chairperson— Choi Seungcheol! Woohoo!”

This.

This was not part of the program that he remembers approving.

“Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol!”

This was definitely not part of it at all.

“Again, give it up for Mr. Chair!”

Illit’s Magnetic, Viviz’s Maniac, and KIOF’s Midas Touch later (with his face mimicking a red and ripe cherry), Seungcheol was finally allowed off the stage. “Wow! That’s our Chair, everybody! Who knew he was hiding this kind of charm?” Seungcheol wants to die. Seokmin’s voice is cheery in the microphone, but his officer suddenly turns his face away from the mic to whisper something to him. “Hyung,” Seokmin’s voice is suddenly grave. “I got a text from Seungkwan. He says he can’t find the VCs.”

Oh, fuck this. He’s going to kill himself.

“Tell—tell the kids we’re gonna have some free time first before proceeding to the team building.” Seokmin nods. Seungcheol’s face is still very very hot, but he swallows the embarrassment aside for now to deal with this problem. You and Yoon Jeonghan can’t just disappear. You’re both leading two teams for the games. Well. Maybe he can give you a pass, but Jeonghan is still needed out there. He feels unreasonably wronged by him too for that glare earlier. 

Seungcheol marches into the hanok. He spots an equally stressed looking Seungkwan inside the living area. Mingyu and Jihoon are there, too. So are Joshua, Vernon, and Chan. Why are they all here? They’re supposed to be preparing for the team building. These kids are slacking.

He’s gonna give them an earful later. For now, there’s a bigger issue to solve. “Where are the two?” 

“We don’t know!” Seungkwan exclaims. “We’ve been looking for them too.”

He hears a sniffle come from one of them. It’s from Soonyoung. “The last I’ve seen them, they were arguing.” Seungcheol gulps. Maybe…by any chance…that may have been his fault? “This happened with my parents too. And they came back with divorce papers.”

“Stop projecting your unresolved familial trauma onto them,” Jihoon sighs. “They aren’t your parents.”

“I’ve sent a text to Wonwoo and Minghao hyung,” Vernon brings up. “Maybe they’ve seen them.”

At that moment, Minghao enters the living area. Seven heads snap to his direction. Minghao stops in his tracks. “What?” He looks awfully relaxed, not looking as though he had just dealt with two ex-lovers who say they hate each other and that it’s over, but have too much sexual tension for their assertion to be believable. In fact, he looks quite at peace. Satisfied, even. Accomplished. This is fucking suspicious. “Isn’t it time for the team building activities?”

“Hao,” Seungcheol starts. “Have you seen the two Vice Chairs?”

Minghao looks at them. There’s a pause of anticipation. There’s literally no reason for this suspense build-up. “Oh,” Hao exhales. Why are they all waiting for the pin to drop? “I did.”

What they hear next, they never could have been prepared for. 

“I locked them in a closet.”

The pin has dropped. 

Seungcheol is the first to speak up. 

“You...you what?” he starts. “Come again?”

“They were arguing,” Minghao shrugs. “I got annoyed.”

Seungkwan’s mouth is hanging open. “You— you got annoyed,” he stammers. “So you…”

“Locked them in a closet,” Minghao finishes. “Yeah.”

It doesn’t hit them at first. Then it does. It hits them hard.

They all exchange looks. In a matter of soundless seconds, they immediately run to the direction Minghao just came from. What does he mean he locked you and Jeonghan in the closet, why would he lock you two in the closet, locking you two in the closet is a recipe for shit-eating disaster, does he want Yoon Jeonghan to fucking die?

“Shit, what if Jeonghan hyung is dead?”

At least they’re all on the same page. They come to a screeching halt upon reaching the room at the end of the hallway, but there is no sign of either of you. The only semblance of humanity within the vicinity is Wonwoo, who is sitting at a table, headphones on, laptop open, and typing without a care in the world. 

Seungcheol’s eyes dart around the room. Closet. Closet. There’s an indication of a sliding door at the opposite wall. He walks up to it, hesitantly with shaky steps, his heart hammering against his chest. The others inch behind him in caution. Sweat starts trailing down from his forehead. He reaches out for the handle, one hand outstretched, and then—

“I wouldn’t open that if I were you.”

Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the tension. He freezes. They all look back at the man by the desk, unaffectedly writing his documents, the sound of keyboard clicking filling the gaps in the air. “Why?” Seungcheol chokes out. Thunk. Their heads snap back to the closet. He feels Soonyoung clutch him from behind.

“There was yelling from in there until a moment ago,” is Wonwoo’s simple answer. “I think they’ve moved on to something else.”

Another tense pause fills the room. “Who...who was yelling?” Jihoon raises. “What kind of yelling? Why didn’t you check if anything was wrong?”

Wonwoo wrinkles his nose, momentarily taking his eyes off from the laptop to give their huddled group a look of disgust. “And risk walking in on them making out or something? No, thanks.” Then resumes what he’s doing. They all look at each other. Surely, that can’t be the case, right? You’ve got more pride on your shoulders than to fold for Yoon Jeonghan just because of some contrived forced proximity. It’s more likely that you’ve found an opportunity to strangle him. To kill him in cold blood. Which is why they’ve all run here out of concern right now.

“Why would there be yelling if they’re making out?!” Mingyu exclaims, concerned.

“I don’t know the kind things they’re into,” Wonwoo leers at them. “And frankly, I don’t want to know.”

“Then...what are you doing here, hyung?” Vernon prods. “Of all places.”

Once more, Wonwoo stops typing to grace them with an answer. “This is the only spot with good reception.” This feels like a fever dream. Seungcheol does not know what to do. His attention is directed back to the closed closet door, hearing another...thud coming from within. He locks eyes with Seungkwan. And then Mingyu. And then Jihoon. Holy shit. In his four years of Chairmanship over SVT, this, by far, has been his biggest obstacle yet.

The officers before him never warned him about this. What exactly is the best course of action here? What would result in the least amount of emotional, mental, and physical repercussions? Leave the door alone? Unlock it and witness horrors untold? There’s still an event they have to manage. Seokmin is probably freaking out outside right now. Yet here they are, watching the unmoving and locked closet door with uncertainty and caution, like it’s an oracle that will show them the way, that will give them a command to do something. Anything. And, much to their surprise and horror—

“Mr. Chair.”

It does.

“Would you please unlock the door?”

The oracle is wearing the sound of your voice? No, wait. It is your voice. From behind the door. “Holy shit,” he hears one of them hiss out from behind. Holy shit indeed. Seungcheol knows better than to test your temper. Quickly, he reaches out for the handle, clicks it open, and a force stronger than his slides the door gaping and completely open, revealing the dark and until interiors of the closet.

You emerge from the darkness. So does Jeonghan. Alive. Unstrangled. Maybe? That’s up for debate because there are some visible marks on his throat. Seungcheol pretends not to see. 

“W—welcome back…?” Soonyoung hesitantly drawls out. You walk out from the closet, Jeonghan trailing behind you slightly from behind. You’re both still wearing the in theme hanboks, but the fabrics are clearly disheveled. And loose. And Jeonghan is hooking his fingers on the hand lagging behind you. And looking at the back of your head with a concerning amount of heart eyes.

You don’t mention a thing about it. “I believe we are behind schedule,” you simply say. “Team building, right? Let’s head off to our posts now.”

They don’t say anything about it either. Seungcheol clears his throat, creaking his body back to the direction of escape. “Y—yes. Everyone is waiting.” The rest follow. You all exit the area except for Wonwoo, who’s still doing his work. When Seungcheol turns back to check on you two— you know, just in case— he immediately regrets it.

Jeonghan is still a step behind you. But he leans slightly forward, dipping his head down to reach your ears. His mouth moves, whispering something. A silent laugh cracks through your features. A laugh. Not once has laughter occurred since the beginning of this predicament. Not a. Single. Instance. You bump your elbow against Jeonghan’s chest. Jeonghan continues to move behind you with a thin smile on his face.

He sees nothing. They see nothing. They leave the house. They immediately scatter to inhale fresh, free air.

“Hyung! Oh my god where have you guys been?! The members are waiting!”

An unspoken agreement was formed. There will be no further mention about this occurrence. Not a single word. 

*‎

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 27, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.” 

It’s the first Executive Board meeting after SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. The agenda for today is just a feedbacking session on the said event. Seungcheol yawns, not bothering to cover it up with the clipboard and Seungkwan sends him a dirty look for it. Wonwoo carries on with the roll call, one after the after stating their attendance for the meeting today. It’s the same routine for the most part. Seungcheol glances at the empty spaces on both his left and right. He taps on the table with a pen impatiently. 

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting,” Wonwoo drones one. The two seats are still empty. Seungcheol digs his pen into the wooden surface. “Vice Chairperson-External?” 

No answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?

Still no answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Chairperson, Mr. Chair?”

“Present,” Seungcheol gruffs. God damn it, where the hell are you and Jeonghan? This feels like a rerun of their group traumatic experience last week. “Proceed.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. There are twelve out of fourteen officers present. We are in quo—”

The door swings open.

You and Jeonghan enter in a hurry.

“We’re sorry we’re late!”

Again. Seungcheol feels the horrible, wrinkly slap of deja vu. His eyes follow while you and Jeonghan rush to your seats, out of breath and in a hurry. Joshua has stopped flicking origami frogs on the table. Seokmin and Mingyu pause in between chair spins. Junhui’s mouth is glued to the latte straw while darting his eyes wide back and forth, between you and Jeonghan. And Minghao cannot be bothered by any more relationship problems.

Wonwoo clears his throat. “Fourteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair,” he amends. 

“Yes, thank you,” Seungcheol sighs out. “Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting?”

Much to his surprise, the meeting proceeds quite...smoothly. Wonwoo reads out the agenda. No objections. They start the feedbacking session. No problems. The incident with the closet is not even mentioned. Not once. Not even a hint despite the shared knowing looks when Seungcheol asks if there are still more matters to discuss.

“No more, Mr. Chair,” Vernon confirms. Seungcheol nods. This is going awfully well. When’s the curveball going to hit him? When? “Thank you, Mr. Auditor. Since there is nothing else on the agenda, let’s proceed to announcements.” He looks at his clipboard. There’s only one thing scribbled under announcements. It’s not his handwriting. Seungcheol squints. “Lee Chan’s...pool…barbecue...dance party on the 29th?”

There’s a pause. Seungcheol looks up from the clipboard.

“What is this?”

All eyes are on Lee Chan. He looks like he enjoys the attention. “Lee Chan’s pool barbecue dance party on the 29th,” he answers, as a matter of fact. “You’re all invited.”

This is the curveball he’s been expecting. Seungcheol feels a knot in his temples. “How many times do I have to say this?” he releases a heavy breath. “Announcements on the order of business are reserved for org-related announcements. It is not an opportunity for you to invite everyone to your parties, nor to your outings, nor to your nephew’s baptismal shower, Soonyoung.”

The man in question swallows down a gulp. Seungcheol sighs for the nth time.

“I hope that is crystal clear.” He’s so done. He’s so tired. When is adjournment coming? Why can’t it come sooner? “Anyway, do we have any other announcements? Relevant announcements, rather.” Seungcheol sees you with your arm up. He feels a rush of relief. “Yes, Ms. VCE, you are raising your hand?”

You put your hand down, allowing it to rest gingerly on the table when you say, “Thank you for the acknowledgement, Mr. Chair.” You look like your usual self— in between smiling pleasantly and staring blankly. Seungcheol nods, prodding you to continue. You do. “I would like to put the matter of my resignation on today’s table, Mr. Chair.”

“Oh, yes, the matter of your—” 

A screeching halt. Seungcheol’s tongue stops working. He stares at you, wide-eyed.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“My resignation.” You pull out a white, ghostly envelope from somewhere. His throat tightens. “I am filing it today and hoping for its immediate attention.”

It’s like time stops completely. The entire office is frozen. They wait for you to say it’s a joke. Any moment now. Please.

“Mr. Chair?” you call out. “Allow me to repeat. I will be resigning from my position as Vice Chairperson-External. What process do we need to undergo to finalize this?”

You don’t say it’s a joke. You are dead serious.

“No?!”

“Did—did I hear that right res—res—resigna—hiccup!”

“Breathe in, Seokmin. Breathe out. Yes that’s—”

“Why would you do this to us?! Why?!”

“Oh my god, it’s happening to me again, it’s happening to me again—”

“What do you mean resignation, what the hell are you talking about?” Seungkwan shoots up from his seat, slamming his palms against the table in distress. “Aren’t you two back together?! Why would you resign?!”

It’s a mess. It’s a room of hysteria and panic except for you, him and Jeonghan. Seungcheol is trying his best to...understand. To not throttle you and shake you violently because why? Where did he go wrong? Has he not been treating you well enough? Did he need to compliment you more? Do you need more compensation? 

Whatever the reason is, you’re looking awfully calm being the recipient of manic yells and hyperventilated cries of anguish. Jeonghan, too, is quiet. He’s just seated there, arms on the armrest, like he is in a completely different room altogether. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him. Did he do this? Did he talk you into resigning? That bastard— how could he! Seungcheol’s heart is broken, not just once, but twice. First, from his dearest protege. Second, from his (formerly) trusted right hand man.

“Ahem.”

Before things could get worse (i.e. Soonyoung and Seokmin full-on sobbing and begging on their knees), you catch their attention. You look at them, calmly, and, with a carefully enunciated voice, begin your piece that brings all of them to silence. 

“I sincerely apologize for the trouble that our personal issues have caused to SVT,” you begin, a singular glance at Jeonghan. Seungcheol bites his tongue. Traitor. Evil man. Evil jealous man. “I am well aware that my recent behavior has led to some lapses in the organization’s operations, clearly seen in the management of our latest event. We have all heard the feedback, the concerns—where things went wrong. As you have witnessed, it is quite difficult for us to separate our personal feelings from our professional work here in the org, which was the root of most of our experienced problems.” 

That is not true! No one has the best work-life balance than you! Granted, there was an issue just earlier in the month, but Seungcheol can overlook that! He can overlook it as long as you take back your resignation, and take on his spot as Chairperson next semester!

“Which is exactly why I’m resigning,” you decisively say. Shit. “There were a lot of…ingredients that eventually led to the unforeseen outburst between Mr. VCI and I during one of our previous meetings. One of those ingredients was my affiliation with the organization. The rest of the details can be found in my resignation letter. Thank you for allowing me to serve thus far.” 

It’s like a needle pricked most everyone in the room and left them deflated. Chan looks sunken. Even Jihoon. Minghao just looks like he’d been expecting this. Kim Mingyu looks like he cannot accept this.

So he jerks out of his seat, springing to his feet, and points an accusatory finger at Yoon Jeonghan.

“You!” Mingyu shrieks. “Say something!”

“Hyung,” Seokmin adds onto the pile. He’s choked up and about to cry. “Are you just gonna let this happen?”

For the first time since, Jeonghan finally speaks up. But his tone is…sourer than expected. “What do you want me to say?” he starts. It makes everyone jolt. “That you’ve been overworking my girlfriend since freshman year to the point that we started arguing about it because she’s been skipping meals and sleep and taking care of herself just to manage the org?”

Even you flinch. There’s an apologetic look on your face, but there’s no denial. 

Jeonghan lets out a sigh. Oh, Seungcheol realizes. Oh. Oh, crap. Maybe. Maybe he and SVT had a lot more to do with your breakup that he initially thought. The workload. The shit you had to catch and bury with your bare hands whenever the org had problems, had too much to do, had one person in mind to fix up any messes made. Maybe they’ve been relying on you too much. Maybe he’s been relying on you too much and Yoon Jeonghan noticed that.

Of course Jeonghan would notice that. He’s been dating you under their nose for god knows how long. That explains why Jeonghan would suddenly act pissy towards him. It was whenever you’d been tossed in a sinkhole of work.

Once more, you clear your throat. “I have immense attachment to this organization. However, my priorities have shifted. I am sincerely grateful and sorry, but I hope all of you understand.”

It starts clicking inside each head, one-by-one. It’s slow. It’s hard to accept, but they eventually do. Seokmin eventually stops sniffling. Soonyoung stands up to give you a hug. This was a loss for all of them. All of them except you and Yoon Jeonghan. 

“Hyung, but why aren’t you resigning?” 

Jun pokes the bear one last time. It’s a question in all their heads, and Jeonghan’s expression alone isn’t enough to answer it.

“Jun-ah, do you want me gone?” Jeonghan replies, a little too seriously. They freeze. Then he laughs. “It’s going to be difficult to re-elect someone at this point, so I’ll be taking over some of her workload for the remainder of the semester. The rest of you should do the same as one last thank you to our now outgoing VCE. You owe her that much, at least.”

Before Jeonghan can start nagging, you quickly overtake his field of vision from his left. “Don’t worry, I’ll be finishing up my pending tasks, Mr. Chair. I will also be leaving some notes behind for everyone’s ease of—”

“What did I tell you about being more considerate to yourself?” the one from his rightbutts in. “These kids can handle it on their own. You don’t have to micromanage them. I’m begging you, stop overworking yourself.”

Okay, he sharply inhales through his nose. Seungcheol gets it. They all get it. No need to act all sweet in front of their faces and during org hours. It’s sending shivers down his spine. All of their spines. None of this spine shivering is healthy. “Please leave your resignation letter on the table. We will give some time for the other officers to read and consider it before making a final decision during the next meeting.”

You smile. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.”

“Thank you for your service, Ms. VCE.”

It hurts him to say this. It really does. You were the perfect successor. Now, who the hell from this pile of twelve men is he supposed to pick to be the next Chairperson? Does he have to— god forbid— retain his position?

Seungcheol lets out a sigh.

“Meeting adjourned. You are all dismissed.”

the breakup soup. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[puckingeccedentesiast]

Sunsets & Daisies

Luke Hughes x Reader Word Count: 2.3k Description: Luke Hughes and his fiancée always have an annual spring photo shoot, this year for their fourth anniversary Luke gets some welcome news.

Every year, when September hits Luke and Y/N venture to some decadently and much fought over location for their annual photo shoot. What once started with the two cramming into a Photo Booth, drunk on Luke’s birthday became somewhat of their tradition.

This year Y/N had practically begged Luke to relinquish all control he had and give it to her, given as of recently a huge surprise - a future altering surprise, was now at play. It had been almost nine months since Luke proposed and with the wedding two days away the couple thought this would be the perfect time to have the shoot before the season starts.

The location was about a forty-five out of Michigan, and was scheduled for the late afternoon in an attempt to achieve some sunset lit pictures. Luke’s sling added to the difficulty of getting ready, being sure not to accidentally aggravate his shoulder while also trying to get the polo shirt on was a massive task.

"You're too tall Lukey, can you bend down a sec?" you murmured, making sure to gently thread the bunched fabric over his injured shoulder first. The swollen, bruised skin making you grimace as Luke hissed through his teeth when you rotated his arm to allow the other one to slip through. "Sorry bub."

"It's alright." Luke whispered, "You're doing your best and their isn't much else we can do for the pain."

"You can have another does of pain killers when we get there, I'll put them in my purse for you to take before we get there.” The girl spoke as she put said medicine in her purse, among other essentials as well as today’s surprise. While she was allowed the liberty of preparing the surprise with the photographer by graciously offering to organise this year's photo shoot, claiming that Luke already does to much. However if Luke told you the story, it would have been told so dramatically the person listening would have assumed you held him at gunpoint. Which was completely untrue. You had used a hot spatula.

"Sounds, good." Luke spoke, grabbing a cap, using it to brush his hair back so it sat perfectly. You could see the one handed struggle he was having as you watched his scrunched up face in the mirror.

With a heavy sigh you crossed your arms, staring at him in the mirror, "Luke, if you think for a second you are wearing that cap during the shoot you have a lot more concerning things to worry about rather then your shoulder."

“I wouldn’t dare, it’s just till we get there so my hair doesn’t get super frizzy.” Luke stated, giving a pointed look as he turned back around and started to walk over to where you sat at the vanity, brushing the last bits of makeup across your face with the brush before turning the light switch and watching the bulbs dim till the room was bathed in darkness.

Exiting down the hallway and plucking the seperate car, house and gate keys off of their designated wall hooks in the entry way, playing them into your purse knowing because of Luke’s arm, even though he would insist on driving you will have to. Walking into the kitchen, hand brushing past the marble countertop, fingers drifting over the bunch of bananas sitting on the stone as you contemplated what you wanted to eat as well as a snack to take.

Luke trotted down the stairs quickly, heavy footsteps sounding out, softened by carpet but still loud enough to contemplate whether or not an elephant was storming throughout your house. “Should I wear my white sneakers? Or my blue ones?”

“I’d wear the blue.. well they are navy actually. There might be red dirt there and it will be easier to get it out of the blue rather than the white.” you said with an analytical tone, thinking best about the circumstances. “Besides, they will work well with your shirt.”

You heard Luke shuffle off down the hallway to the mud room, where you had all the shoes stowed away in little cubby cubes under the coat rack.

“Can you grab my black ankle boots please?” you requested as you opened the fridge, still in search for snacks you knew you were going to want inevitably. It was remarkable how dense men were sometimes, Luke, who knows you inside and out hasn’t even put a thought as to why you may be eating more or why you wanted one food constantly. Almost like you were craving, something.

“The ones with the little chain?” Luke called back out, you could hear him pulling the weaved baskets in and out.

“No! The ones with the little ribbing down the side of the legs?” You spoke, albeit louder so it carried down the hall into the room Luke was in.

“So the ones with the chain!” Luke’s tone matched yours, his with filtered confusion. He was holding said boots, they were black with a tan, woody coloured block on the heel of them, although it added little height and across the ribbed stitching on the side of the boots was a dainty little gold chain.

From where you were standing, brow creased as you looked into the fridge, eyes darting from the bread to make some toast, to the eggs which you could quickly scramble and maybe put on the toast. Then your eyes locked with the packet of dark chocolate covered almonds. Now they would be good.

“Y/N!” Luke cried, still looking at the boots as he waited for an answer. Looking at the wall with a expression of concern and disbelief.

“They aren’t the same boot Luke! They are different bo-“ Y/N cut herself off as Luke wandered into the kitchen, boots in hand. “Oh. But they are two different boots! I swear they are!”

Slamming the fridge door shut, discarding the loaf of raisin toast and butter container and jar of strawberry jam on to bench, crouching and letting the items fall from your arms onto the bench with a clink from the glass jar. You rounded the counter, using your hand to prevent you from bumping your hip bone on the stone.

Luke watched as you damn near jogged, more of a hop, skip and jump down the hall towards the mud room. It was cute, watching your light anger in being wrong show through your actions. Listening to the manic shuffling of the woven crates as you pulled them out of each of their cubby shelves only to see they weren’t the pair of shoes you thought existed, but clearly didn’t. When you came stomping back down the hall with a heavy pout and furrowed brow, giving the boots which matched the description you gave with disdain.

“You were right.” Your tone was short and sad.

“Yeah.. is that upsetting you?” Luke asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“It is. It shouldn’t but it is.” You spoke in an incredulous tone. Moving back over to the bench, fingers toying with the plastic covering the bread loaf. You felt as if you wanted to yell, cry and scream all at the same time. Darn mood swings.

Luke just laughed, a rich hearty sound that made your knees wobble as you screwed open the jam jar, placing the raisin toast into the toaster, waiting and ruffling through different packets of chips in the snack drawer picking out two and throwing them in Luke’s direction.

“What flavours do you want?” You asked, still swatting your way through the chip drawer.

“I’m not going to be hungry. I ate before remember?” Luke looked up from his phone.

“Okay the-“ you cut yourself off as the toaster popped up, bringing the raisin toast with it. You grabbed the toast out, flinging it onto the bench after realising it was too hot to just hold onto.

Smearing the butter and jam onto the slices of toast, shoving one into your mouth holding it in your teeth as you turned and placed the bread and condiments back into the fridge. After taking a solid, hearty bite of the toast you placed it back onto the bench, not minding the crumbs that dropped off it. You grabbed the boots from where they sat next to the kitchen island counter and slipped your feet into them, the black tights you were wearing to battle the brisk september air aiding in your pursuit.

"Are you ready to go?" Luke looked up as you asked him this, stretching his none injured arm out, then slotting his phone into his back pocket.

"Whenever you are!" He replied enthusiastically, standing up and holding his hand out for you. He watched as you grabbed your purse, still holding your piece of toast trying not to let the jam dribble down your hand. Luke held the front door open as you stepped out and followed the path to where the car was parked in the driveway. You pressed down on the key fob to unlock the door so you could slide into the driver seat while Luke situated himself in the passenger seat, awkwardly reach across his body to pull the seat belt over and click it into place.

Mirroring Luke, albeit with more ease you strapped yourself in before pulling backwards out of the driveway, checking both ways for traffic. Heading to the stop sign at the end of the street, pulling away from the suburban area and driving away from the city after taking an entry onto the highway to go south. Luke had taken care of the music, connecting his phone to the car via aux cord and playing the majority of his songs, with your input for a song here and there.

"Play that Garth Brooks one.. the country one Jack really likes." you spoke, voice raised slightly to project over the song that was currently playing.

"Why would I play that?" Luke questioned back, his face skeptical.

"Because Callin' Baton Rouge is a fantastic song. Now play it." you responded, looking in the rearview mirror, checking the lanes next to you before merge into the exit turning lane, heading down a rural street where the sides of the road was lined with fences holding cattle in and big tall trees acting as a windbreak.

Even though he had absolutely no idea where the final destination was Luke was staring to catch on that it might have something to do with a field, something very nature-y. He was right, or by the fact that you pulled up next to a white toyota camry near the entrance gate to a field which was bordered with a small forest. Following you and getting out of the car, he watched as you ambled over, shook the young woman's hand.

"Luke, this is Kelly. She will be doing our photos this year." Y/N introduced the photographer, it was obvious that she wasn't a random due to the high quality canon camera she was cradling in one arm.

"Pleasure to meet you." Luke exchanged pleasantries with the woman before the little group of three set off into the field, heading towards the treeline. There was a dirt track that Luke could hear led down toward a creek, he could see why you had told him not to wear his good white shoes, there was a certain chance his shoes would be getting a little dirty.

With all credit to you, he had to admit that the spot was absolutely stunning and he couldn't imagine a more perfect place for the photos. Particularly when the dense foliage thins out and he can see the beautiful architecture of some kind of ruined building. Nature had taken over, vines crawling all up the elegant arches which were bathed in late afternoon sun.

"This is beautiful darlin'" Luke murmured in your ear as he looked up from where he was perched on a rock, this was just one of the many positions and places Kelly had you too stand, sit, hug, kiss, smile or laugh for the photos. He already seemed elated at the fact the photoshoot was happening, he hadn't even gotten the news that was turning your stomach inside out with nerves. Or was it something else?

"Okay, Luke, can you turn and face the creek? I need Y/N behind you, and then you are going to turn around." Kelly asked, setting up for the final shot of the big moment. She winked at you as you pulled the little reel of photos out of your purse. Taking a deep calming breath as you stood behind him, holding the photos that represented your future with Luke, you hands were shaking but you stood. "Okay Luke. Turn around for me."

As Luke did you met his briefly before they locked onto the ultrasound photos you held for him to see. His beaming smile dropped into a gape as he looked at the photos dumbfounded, but it quickly returned as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words he so desperately wanted to say. Instead he scooped you into his arms, spinning you around as the camera clicked. Capturing this moment forever, allowing you to reflect on it and show it to family and friends.

"Your- Your seriously." Luke stammered, placing you down, cradling the side of your head as well as the side of your stomach.

"Yeah.. I am." you smiled back, matching his grin with one just as bright.

He pulled away turning away and pumping the air before shouting into the forest clearing. "I'm going to be a dad!"

Yes you are Luke Hughes, a damn great one.

[toruforuu]

gojo satoru x reader || hogwarts au (18+)

wonderwall ch.2 two can play the game

✼pairing: hogwarts au - slytherin!gojo x ravenclaw!reader

✼summary: gojo satoru, the golden boy of a famous family lineage of wizards sets his sights on you, a half blood defying his pureblood morals. he makes it a goal in his life to make yours a living hell. years of endless pestering, teasing and rivalry stretching out. as times goes on, he finds himself thinking about you more than he isn’t. he grows torn between his family’s beliefs and the forbidden ache tickling his chest whenever he sees you

✼meaning: wonderwall - the person you cannot stop thinking about (song by oasis)

✼genre/tags: hogwarts au, female reader, strangers to enemies/sort of academic rivals to forbidden lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut, pining and yearning (mostly gojo), built up tension, teasing, bickering and pestering, jealousy, slightly spoiled gojo, obsessed and lovesick gojo, both are pretty oblivious to their feelings

✼warnings: discrimination, death, grief, shitty parents, light bullying, mentions of hook ups, sexual topics, family pressure and trauma, mentions of injuries and violence, degradation

✼word count: 4k

✼chapter: 2/?

a/n: hi, hope you’re having a great day! i wanted to publish another chapter before taking my entrance exam for uni this sunday. this chapter is frankly quite boring, but it gets better in the next one! we are sort of just going through their years of history until we hit the present, which is the end of year six. I thought it’d be good to explore their previous relationships, to give it more depth and sort of build up the tension before jumping into it (i also got carried away haha). I got pretty busy so hopefully I will be able to post another chapter next week. Stay tuned until then:)

based on this // previous chapter // next chapter

˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to playlist

˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to the vision-board

Satoru Gojo was a lot to handle. Sure. He tested your ability to stay sane. You managed though. Barely from time to time, but you wouldn’t let him have it. You saw his behaviour as something momentary which would soon be put to a stop, after he got bored of you.

For the rest of your first year you wondered what made the interaction between you two get such a rise out of him. Weren’t you the one supposed to be riled up at his audacity? It was a little over two months before the break when you decided to do what felt right, due to the way you were raised like. But those weeks leading up to summer felt eternal. Each morning you woke up and went through the same shower of names thrown your way, because the white haired disaster managed to practically turn the entirety of house Slytherin on you.

You could only hope for the best for September, the start of your second year. Since months compared to weeks of his terror would be straight out of a horror movie.

Nonetheless, you did not worry about it throughout the summer break. The name Satoru Gojo falling back into the background and it felt surreal to have nobody breathing at your neck.

Well, to be more specific, you tried not to worry.

You reminded yourself each night before going to bed that he would grow tired of you and chose someone else to have for lunch instead.

Okay, perhaps his existence hasn’t completely washed out.

You briefly mentioned the bluyed boy in your letters addressed to your mother throughout the school year. However, as you arrived home for the break you haven’t spoken of him, but at one point it seemed mandatory to tell your mother all about it. With the sole exception of few unpleasant details. Ones you would rather keep to yourself. For the sake of not causing her any unnecessary worries, she had enough of those already back at work.

You also didn’t want her to know how much of a tool it had on you. You were afraid her imagine at work could be harmed if you confessed what was truly going on between you and the miracle of a boy from the Gojo family. But your mother knew you like the back of her own hand, you were sensitive.

Although you tried to hide it, your tone suggested just how serious the situation was for you. Your mother was as kind as ever, paying attention to detail. She had your head cradled in her lap by the time you were finished, her gentle fingers soothing down strands of hair from your forehead. Your eyes were shut, enjoying the gesture of affection preformed by her as she reassuringly told you he would forget about it by the time it would turn out to be September and the leafs would begin picking up coats of soft colours interlinked with autumn.

And you believed her.

Satoru Gojo on the other was quite non verbal after coming back home for the summer. He got used to the life within the castle quickly, the lack of his parent’s influence making it all that much appealing. Being home for summer meant more social events, parades through society and countless of pointless meetings. Besides that, he had a free will of choosing whatever to do with his free time. Yet he still loathed each second he had to spent in that asylum where he was raised. He thought of returning to school in early September to pass those endless days filled with boredom. He was never the one to thrive off academics or school in general, however, it offered him a privilege to stay away from home so it did the job. The taste of freedom left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. Once he tasted it, it became everything he longed for it.

He wished the time away while you were anxiously counting the days left of the holidays.

As time does, it passed and rather too quickly for your liking.

You were disappointed, when he managed to rattle you within the first week of school. Your conviction of being left alone was crushed, to say the least. You had figured following the advice coming from your mother would do you good. To simply ignore him, not let him have pleasure from making your blood boil, she said. You repeated her words in your head multiple times a day like a sacred prayer. To make yourself believe the words were true and not another thing bound to fail.

It wasn’t easy. Frankly, it was far from it.

Nevertheless, your mother was right, because it did cause a slight shift between the two of you. And you would have preferred it to stay the same if only you had known what sort of a thing was coming your way.

Satoru Gojo knew what you tried to do the second he first glanced upon you to see a neutral expression written across your face. No furrowed brows. Your eyes not twitching uncontrollably with annoyance. Your lips displaying the absence of pouting with defiance. There were no more of your pretentious bite backs, no more comments on his behaviour as he drowned you with snickering remarks and insults. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to awaken that spark of rage nestled in your chest, it never lightened up in the way it had used to before going home.

You did good, he had to give you that. Be that as it may, it still wasn’t enough to make him stop. Since you were one of the main reasons he was over the moon to be back.

Satoru began experimenting on which things made you twitch, silently observing you as you laughed with your friends by the Ravenclaw’s table at dinner.

And eventually he overheard you talking to your friend Arabella. The one who couldn’t keep her mouth shut and the one whose voice made him roll his eyes at the mere sound. His ears perked up as he caught onto your conversation, listening to you complaining about getting a lower grade than one of your classmates. Your tone picked up a trace of the already mentioned fire in your chest, it felt refreshing to hear more of it.

That’s when an idea was planted into that skull of his, the corners of his mouth instantly twisted into a nasty smirk as he realised what he needed to do to earn your attention again. He had plenty of drive to surpass you and unfortunately for you, you shared more classes with each other this school year.

So naturally it came to you as an utter surprise when a professor handed you back your graded potions paper to see your score wasn’t the highest one. You scanned the classroom briefly to find the ball of white hair already grinning at you, paper displayed in your way. A paper with the perfect score circled on the left corner.

You despised losing in academics, even more so when the person who beat you was Satoru Gojo. The tension thickened again from that passing moment. His presence falling back into the back of your head like a haunting ghost. The usual gnawing interaction you shared turned into moments packed with rivalry and nervous anticipation. Even though he left you somewhat alone without overwhelming insults, it wasn’t worth the cost.

The strawberry blonde girl seated next to you in class found it a little amusing, she couldn’t deny it, but would never admit it to you.

She spent countless of hours watching over you as you buried yourself in books during your free time instead of doing your usual activities with her. It didn’t bother her in the beginning. And then the amusement quickly escalated into a sense of concern as she saw you pushing yourself harder, when the Slytherin started to even out your performances during lessons. She felt a tugging urge to help you out of the loop, if only she knew how. You were swallowed up by the bubble of determination to the point where you couldn’t point out how much you were missing out on.

Yet as your mind wandered elsewhere, you were thinking about how he actually manages to maintain such an imagine. Going out of his way to have his fun and still managing to squash you like a bug without a hitch in his habits. What sort of a beast he had to be?

He seemed flawless. There wasn’t anything he wasn’t exceptional at in your eyes. Academics wise.

You have never felt more envious of anyone.

You felt so beyond him which caused you to push and push and push.

You put in each bit of your effort only to be placed second at the end of the year anyway. Arabella had her hand placed on the lower part of your back when the final results came in, soothing your nerves. Tears burned in your eyes and before you knew it, they were streaming down the swell of your cheeks as you hid your face in the cup made out of your palms. Quiet sobs and sniffs could be heard from your room at night.

You simply couldn’t believe your eyes, you never lost in this way. To anyone. Your defeat shook you, sending you into a spiral of the same devouring wave of solitude you barely escaped the first time.

Satoru Gojo was exhilarated when he got his hands on the results paper. Seeing your name typed out under his filled him with a tiny wave of pride. He thought, that’s where the name belonged anyway.

If only he had been aware of how much your heart cracked as you received the verdict, then he perhaps would have stopped. Or maybe not.

The break soon rolled around again, the sweltering weather making you realise how unlike your ways became from your usual self. You didn’t recognise yourself and neither did your mother. Your pure essence was clearly tainted by an undefined class of hardship.

And without the pressure of his presence casting a shadow over you and weighing down on your chest, you were able to look over your shoulder to see how many things you’ve lost out on. Finally.

As you breathed in the air, sun shining down at you, you recalled what kind of a person you were before your first year at Hogwarts. A pang of nostalgia washed over you. A part of you seemed to be lost forever as your circumstances at school shaped you into a new person.

Change is undeniable, yet you despised it.

Your time in the castle wasn’t nowhere near bad or unenjoyable. You simply made it overbearingly difficult for yourself to find joy in the simple lingering moments as you were far too focused on beating the boy whom made your blood pressure rise in annoyance. His mere existence leaving an ache in your chest as his effortless antics won over your hard work.

Oh, how unfair it was.

You did what you did best then. You wrote a letter to the address which Arabella left you on the last day of school as you packed. The letter contained an apology, you explained the situation you were drowning in nearly the entire length of your second year. She already knew and it was easy to receive her forgiveness.

(Writing silly letters became a tradition among you two, during each break as the years stretched out.)

Arabella invited you to visit her that summer. Perhaps out of pity, but she did anyway. You accepted after you sugar coated your mother into giving you a pass. She lived on the countryside, her house was perfectly regular size and it sat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by plains of nothingness. Which made you wonder how she spent her time. You grew up in the outskirts of the capital, streets set with identical type of brick houses and even there you sometimes felt bored to death.

You were surprised to see she waited two long years to confess she wasn’t from a wizard family. It would be a lie to say it did not cause a slight flinch of hurt, she was afraid you would judge her for being born into a muggle family.

A silently agreed routine formed between you as your visit extended a little over the weeks. Sleeping in. Helping her father with the animals running around. Lending a hand when lunch was in progress. Hanging the laundry in the hot sun. Sipping on freshly made lemonade. Lying down into the cut grass as the sun was setting after a long day, chatting about everything and nothing at once. Stargazing until it got very late, mapping out constellations and mumbling nonsense about astronomy in general.

In those days your troubled mind was put to a rest. And by the time you came back home, your inner spark was reignited. Your mother couldn’t be more relieved as her eyes creaked with time took in your slightly burnt skin (due to spending too much time on the open heat). Your cheeks getting kissed by the sun especially. You often forgot to apply your sunscreen so it was no wonder. The strands of your hair were tangled and the ends of it were lighter, couple of more bruises sewn into your tanned skin. Your mother was seeing her precious girl again.

The anxiety crippled within you again as August went into a late bloom, your nose buried in books as you skimmed over the chapters in advance.

The Gojos didn’t appreciate the way their son was terrorising his peers at school. It was never only you. He layed his hands on anyone, regardless of their blood status if they somehow managed to get on the wrong foot with him. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of using violence. Though never on you in such a way.

His family was quick with it, warning him that he would be robbed of his time at Hogwarts if he continued to perform such scandalous manoeuvres. He was forced to swallow his pride, succumbing to a nonchalant behaviour instead.

The prodigy himself changed, you noticed as you once again gathered in the Great hall at the start of your third year. A one quite significant. The sorting hat was sending off the youngster into their assigned houses, meanwhile you wondered what had happened. A shimmer of curiosity tugging at your heartstrings as his presence screamed an entirely different volume. You were baffled at his strangely calm behaviour. He wasn’t running around with the jerks or so his called friends, picking up at people for their blood status and neither diminishing everyone who crossed paths with him. He went silent on his ways, abandoning it.

Did his pretentious ways finally made no sense to him either? You wondered.

The shift in the atmosphere helped you soothe down your overloading need to give over hundred percent into everything, leaving you at peace for a while. Despite the fact his sudden change of heart still did not play a role in your ragging rivalry. It dragged along into the third year as well. He wasn’t as obvious about his subtle remarks towards you, he was smart with it now. To not get either of you in trouble so his shield would be clean.

Late summer transformed into autumn before you could grasp it, the quidditch season starting off strong as a place was finally opened up for Satoru Gojo to take over.

A chaser in the Slytherin team.

Was there a position more perfect for him?

No, there wasn’t.

His wit and quick thinking carved him out to be a star people sought after rather than feared. He excelled on the field, sending older students into his shadow as he unintentionally always did. He became adored basically over the night, leaving his unbearable intrigues in the past.

It irked you as you sat in the audience, watching the game play out. Ravenclaw losing to Slytherin, yet again. You found your eyes sliding towards the ball of white fur fleeing through the air, studying his moves. He was good, you would give him that. However, seeing how quickly people began to cherish him and forgot his brutal ways made you loathe the spoiled wizard a tad more. It was the third year after all which skyrocketed his position, earning him the start of his never ending peak.

To you it seemed ridiculous. Cheering on the one who left countless other students on the verge of tears not so long ago.

And to nobody’s surprise, he was the very first in history of Hogwarts to become the captain of his team. A handful of months after barely joining.

So when you got offered a place to join your house’s team, you politely declined. Quick to tell them to fetch someone else for their injured seeker. You had enough of competition. It wasn’t in the question to add yet another layer onto your battlefield.

You were doing fine, relaxed and taking the results in class lighter this time to spare your mental health. Because at least no matter how hard he worked his ass off, he still was not successful enough in beating you in History of magic. The secret ace hidden up your sleeve. Which kept you at ease, seeking no more of the aching rivalry. There was not a single reason to create tension. And facing each other on the field would certainly bring trouble. You did yearn to be part of the team though and often looked back at your decision, wondering how life would be for you if you accepted.

It was for the better, you reminded yourself often as your thoughts swirled around your decision.

Satoru Gojo had better things on his plate, long practice keeping him out of your sight and you out of his. You did occasionally clashed into each other over a topic in shared class, but that was it surprisingly. You haven’t interacted as much during the birth of him as a flawless star. Which you were thankful for.

Until one particular day in the school year when the spring break was softly creeping around the corner.

“Got ya pretty good, didn’t I?” he swirled his tongue, taking his time with the words to take joy in each one of them as he wiggled the marked exam in the air. Your eyes widen as you stood in front of the classroom frozen in shock. You grabbed the paper from his hands, fast.

“Cat got your tongue?” the white haired menace chuckled and then winced lightly as your grip tightened on the edges of the material, he warned you to not wrinkle his perfect score. His lips forming into a grin as he empathised the last two words. The blood in your veins ran cold.

“You must have cheated,” you breathe out in a mocking tone, ignoring the pace of your heartbeat as a hollow feeling swirled through your ribcage.

“Or perhaps you aren’t as clever as you think you are,” Satoru Gojo hummed casually, his words ringing in your earbuds. Not as clever. You frowned to cover up the damage he had caused. Only to aggressively push the paper back into his chest, not looking him up in the eyes as you did.

Silence hung in between you for a short while.

“Ah, sensitive, aren’t we?” he made a clicking sound with his tongue as he curled up the exam into a ball anyway, scratching your nerves. Your eyes twitched at his audacity, thoughts racing in your mind two miles per second.

You felt it. The urge to snap. Your mouth was on the verge of unraveling, on the edge of spilling out all insults known to a man. His presence rattled you. However, you turned around to walk away.

“I’ll beat you this year too,” the words slipped past his lips before he could register them or see them coming.

“Only in your dreams,” you said loudly enough for him to hear without turning in his direction, not sparring him any more of your attention.

Despite everything which occurred before this turn of events where he managed to dethrone you from the only thing you ever felt naturally good at, you somehow still deep down prayed it would end one day. The cycle of his behaviour. That he would wake up and overlook you in the hallway on your way to class. Or perhaps that you would wake up from the terrible experience and his overbearing presence would be erased from your life. Which was average at best before you met him, but you didn’t need it to feel grand nor interesting. You haven’t felt the desire to make yourself seen, open up to everyone like he did. But you grew tired of being stepped upon.

Later that same evening, you waited by the quidditch field to catch the captain of the Ravenclaw team that happened to be a girl from year six. You went out of your comfort zone and asked about the position of the seeker, anxiety pinching your side.

The spot was occupied already, however, the student wasn’t doing the team any good so the captain scheduled a try out session for tomorrow morning. To see if you were worth a shot to consider.

The sole purpose of the seeker is to seize the golden snitch amidst the game. And if one were to do so, the whole game would be over in a flash. The team in owing of the snitch winning.

And you were worth a shot in the end. Your precise calculated movements were sharp, something the team could profit from. Before you knew it, you found yourself replacing the clumsy flier and claiming the title of the Ravenclaw’s seeker.

You had set your mind set on repaying Satoru Gojo for the destruction and chaos left in his wake. He destroyed the stability you treasured. Tore it to pieces. You tried out for the team with the starter thought of aiming to piss him off and to earn yourself something greater. I mean, what else could you lose by trying?

When the starlet figured you became part of the team during practice, he couldn’t be more over the moon. The mere thought of you two up against one another had him convinced it was going to be rather fun. Especially to see your pouty expression up in the air.

Joining the team brought you fruits as well.

You were known beforehand. Not invisible, not particularly popular. Over all it wasn’t your ultimate goal to be popular, yet it did not bother you when people from other houses began to greet you in the hallway on way to class. You welcomed it humbly.

Arabella was pleased you finally picked up on something which occupied your mind and left you safe from all the mindless studying. Despite the fact it was partially your way of getting back at the retired menace. Her joy was your source of will to keep pushing through the harder times. You two were each other’s biggest supporters, creating a soft space for the other. She cheered the loudest at any game you played.

God forbid the first time you did manage to seize the golden snitch, she wouldn’t stop talking about it as if she were a broken record. Actually the both of you would never forget about it. And neither would Satoru Gojo who was the one to taste defeat that day.

It was your very first game. The spring season of third year. Your team was down with both strength and atmosphere as the last season wasn’t the greatest. Merciless defeats, mostly coming from Slytherin. The Ravenclaw’s quidditch team members were painfully aware of how important this game would be for the future of their gameplay.

The first half of the match sucked. Slytherin scoring again and again. And when you thought you were about to turn it around, they scored again.

As a seeker your eyes were peeled on the tiny flickering golden snitch. It was hard to keep up with your focus when he was there. All in his glory. Seekers and chasers weren’t meant to be in contact at all since your goals were distinct, but he still went out of his way to interact with you.

Luckily, the favours were on your side that day, because you didn’t lose after all. Sounds of excitement roared through the crowd as your eyes fluttered open to gaze over to your palm. Gold colour sparkled while you sealed the victory with your firm grasp. You somehow ended up sacrificing yourself for the snitch, abandoning your broomstick and falling to the ground. A rush of adrenaline flushed through your veins as players flew through the sky. And even now, scanning the treasure pressed into your palm as you lied on your back in the grass felt unreal. Clapping spread across the audience. You heavily breathed out in relief as your teammates started to fly down towards your position to both check up on you and pat you on your back. They helped you back to your feet, throwing you around with words of ecstasy. The mixture of emotions filling you up was indescribable, not even the pain in your ribs could make you falter.

And, oh, seeing the defeated expression painted on Satoru Gojo’s features was something you thought you would never see. It left you gaping for more. Part of you understood why he did what he did in that precise moment. It filled you with a filthy sense of fulfilment to see him sulking while he was patting his teammates on the back as he congratulated them on the game. Seems like the payback took its first payment.

You became addicted to that feeling, seeking out more. And it did not stick simply to quidditch. You rubbed it back in his face when you surpassed his score in exams. You made sure to pick up on things he did and then remark on it, pointing out each time his mood wasn’t at its highest. You teased him at practice when he lacked his usual drive. You took books he needed to finish his papers from the library. And more.

The thing you were the most proud of though was hiding his school bag on the roof of the Astronomy tower. You sneaked over to the Slytherin’s dress room during his practice. Of course after counting out the time when they were on the field so you wouldn’t get yourself caught. Then you hoped onto your broom, bag successfully stolen.

“You did this?” he let out in disbelief as he held his wet school bag in the air, papers scattered out. He didn’t seem angry.

Satoru Gojo was cheekily smirking at you second later. But it was pretty clear he wasn’t happy about it, it took him a month to find it after all. And the bag is ruined. And to think it was you.

“Two can play the game,” you shrugged carelessly, giving him attitude and a taste of his own medicine.

For the first time you were not fuming with irritation at the sight of him, you felt pleased instead. He was the one to feel the irritation blooming instead. While a spark of annoyance flowed through him, it was significantly overloaded by his amusement at your bravery. There was that fire of yours he was so after.

The roles were now reversed and the game back on. This time for the both of you.

credits for dividers: [@enchanthings-a @cafekitsune]

[rhazberriquartz]

Forgive any typos. But this isn't something I thought I'd have to do.

I guess first I start on an update with this situation here. We figured out how to get the house into our name. It'll take about 7 months. My aunt went above and beyond to make it happen. I'm grateful for that.

But, there has been another brick thrown at us. @jeweltonejules is my spouse.

Now... Let's start with a timeline.

Beginning of September, both my spouse and I caught Covid. Once recovered we noticed my spouse had a swollen lymphnode. We decided to tell their PCP about it at the next appointment if it never went away,

November 2024 Jules saw their PCP who noticed the lymphnode was massive and got an ultrasound scheduled.

December 2024 The ultrasound was done. It revealed the growth to be a tumor. A large one with blood vessels. A biopsy was scheduled.

January 2025 Jules went to the biopsy appointment. The Doctor noted it was so large and in such a bad spot that they decide to schedule surgery then and there out of an abundance of caution.

February 13th the surgery was done and not one, but two lymphnode tumors were removed and sent to biopsy.

February 19th Jules is called in to go over the results from the biopsy and check on the wound in their neck. They are diagnosed with Metastatic Squamous Cell carcinoma. A cancer that came from somewhere else in the body. But it at best is stage 2 at worst stage 3.

We are currently awaiting a call from the ENT Specialist at Vanderbilt because they believe the cancer is in that area.

This diagnosis has completely devastated us and our families. We are aware of how costly chemo and radiation can be and the risks it holds.

We already live paycheck to paycheck and are hoping to raise money to help us pay for treatment and pay off any debt we possibly can. The less debt we have the more money we have to go towards treatment as well. Especially if Jules loses their job. Donations will go into savings first and foremost.

Donate HERE if you want to see updates consistently and watch a meter go up.

Otherways to Donate here! if not for what's to come I'd offer commissions. But, I will be taking as much overtime as I can at work.

And of course: This is our list of debt. So, you know EXACTLY what money will be going to outside of medical treatment!

$700 in credit card debt (Cards will be retired.) CLEARED!

$1,800 medical debt (Currently) Not a main concern because of how fast its growing.

$8,600 auto debt

$58,000 Mortgage (This includes a loan we got to fix a massive issue with the floors.)

We know we are asking for a miracle, but it's all we can do at the moment.

We will be updating as we get more information.

All donations are going into a savings account currently. When we get an official number we will add it.

[s-che]

a game where we hurt each other

Last month, I played perhaps the most intense TTRPG session of my life as part of the Dream Library’s discussion of Bluebeard’s Bride, a game of “feminist horror” (more on this later) published by Magpie in a gorgeous print edition. Over the course of the month of October my guest lecturer/collaborator @marvelousmsmolly I collectively hosted three sessions of what was by far the most challenging game the Dream Library has ever discussed. 

We came to Bluebeard as the second part of our fall semester covering games of intimacy and monstrosity — a unit which began in September with Avery Alder’s Monsterhearts 2 and is continuing this month with Vampire: The Masquerade (If you want to get in on the VTM discussion and future semesters, please, come join). Both Molly and I suspected that Bluebeard was going to be both a quieter month and a riskier text — but opted to play through it anyway, albeit with some tools in place to make sure everyone knew what they were getting into with a book that doesn’t pull many punches. And with all that, the first two sessions went... fine? We had some lumpy pacing, some conflicting styles of play, some questions about how a game that really seems to encourage player bleed can possibly be played online, but for the most part things were fine. Not great, not bad — not worth the anxiety we’d had about them.

And “fine,” of course, doesn’t make for interesting conversations, so Molly and I took a step back. We talked about what was going wrong: a sense that neither of us quite felt comfortable hitting hard enough, even though we asked players ahead of time and at the start of sessions to tell us what was off the table. A frustration that player choice had trended towards the Bride as a detective/hero and not someone embodied in a world of horror. A confusion — once again — over what it means to “shiver with terror” in a discord call with some friends online. Out of that conversation came a new idea: rather than two more one-shots, Molly took some time to charge up a spirit bomb and put together some more formal prep, then recruited a group she felt could get together for a more curated experience. She wrote up her own excellent thoughts on what went down — along with a lot of session details — but you’ll have to join the Dream Library for that. 

The result of all that curation and preparation was that on October 23rd a group of four trans women — Molly, @jdragsky, our friend Mars, and I — sat down to play Bluebeard’s Bride knowing exactly what we were in for. We would be playing a transfem Bride, Bluebeard would be cis, and we would be hitting transfem-specific horror as hard as we possibly could. 

I’m going to quote from Molly’s reflection, where she wrote:

“Another really great aspect of running this game for this table is there was such a clear feeling that we all understood, wordlessly, what was going on... There are some moments in Allison Rumfitt’s gothic horror novel ‘Tell Me I’m Worthless’ where it felt like the author, a trans woman, was dropping phrases knowing exactly how her transfem audience would react... This had a twofold effect of both giving the players a chilling moment but also, a very brief but appropriate separation between fiction and player where could all grimace and be together in that discomfort before pushing on. People knew what I was doing. The problem with the original game is it doesn’t really want to discuss the politics of what “feminine horror” means. Because of this you’re really lacking some focus. I think a table of cis women could actually play bluebeard’s bride in the way we did last night and have it hit hard for them if they approached it correctly, I don’t think our experience was uniquely elevated by our trans reading, however that was one of several tools we used for that elevation.”

Setting aside the strengths and weaknesses of the original text, that sense of shared experience was key to our game and key to allowing us to hit — and get hit — really hard and trust that our coplayers were there with us. Compared to our earlier efforts (prioritizing safety by taking things off the table via lines/veils) tightening the topical scope from an ambiguous “feminist horror” to a specific transfeminist horror in the context of a chaser bf, in the context of an economic disparity, in the context of the medical pressures of transition in the contemporary U.K. allowed Molly, our lovely host, to hurt us knowing that we were all in it together and choosing to play this game. It transformed the horror from an obstacle in an adventure game into a thing we were seeking out: a pleasure/pain we asked to feel. 

In a games discourse that is — understandably — interested in protections which might be implemented anywhere, including at cons and home tables with much less of an art-and-politics interest, safety tools are often thought about as a negative thing, a preemptive cutting away of all the things which might end up hurting us. I think that’s part of why people can have a hard time filling out a lines/veils list in advance of a session. What are all the things in the world I’m sensitive to? What are all the contexts in which I’m sensitive to them? Good sensitive or bad sensitive? Sensitive enough to cause a scene? Sensitive enough to make it off the table? 

In place of that — and in a table with a really remarkable amount of trust — this final Bluebeard session leaned in, hard, to the things that hurt us. That was the game. Molly wrote a lot about kink in her reflection, and I think she was right to do that. The point of the game was to hurt each other and to feel, and it was a better game for keeping that in mind. It was an actual horror game, and not just a game with horror aesthetics. I agree with Molly that there was nothing essential about having an all-transfem table — I think what we did could be done by anyone, even with the base Bluebeard’s Bride. What was essential was having a table where we all trusted each other enough to play a hurting game and to know that we were there on purpose. It elevated Bluebeard’s Bride into a really fascinating, messy experience — one I can’t wait to play again.

[liliesmultiverse]

⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙- *̩̩̥͙ dating history in my adult fame reality!!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° jasmine elaine collins [born feb. 21, 1990] is mrs. good luck, babe!. we started dating on november 13, 2004. she was scared of coming out so we kept our relationship a secret until she broke up with me on april 21, 2005 because her friends started getting suspicious and literally a day later she started dating a guy.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° sabrina lauren hall [born nov. 7, 1989] is mrs. casual. we started ‘dating’ on september 8, 2005. unbeknownst to me, our relationship was entirely casual to her & she was flirting with another girl the entire time. i ended it on june 20, 2006 when the other girl realized that i didn’t know what sabrina was doing.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° thomas grant gustin [born jan. 14, 1990] is mr. fearless. we met completely randomly in august 2006 and started dating on october 5 that same year. we ended up breaking on january 20, 2008 though because it wasn’t working anymore. there wasn’t any bad blood between us though.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° jensen ross ackles [born mar. 1, 1978] is mr. you’re not sorry. we met in 2008 on the set of supernatural because i had a small guest appearance and started dating on july 5. we broke up after only a few months on october 19 because he kept talking down on me because of my age.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bill istvan gunther skarsgård [born aug. 9, 1990] is mr. better than revenge. we met at a chirstmas party in 2008 and started dating a few days later on new years. he broke up with me on july 14 through a voicemail and a few days later it was announced that he was dating someone else already.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° nikolina kamenova dobreva [born jan. 9, 1989] is mrs. long live. we first met on the set of the vampire diaries and started dating on november 4, 2009. our relationship was absolutely amazing but the internet absolutely ruined it because they hated us together so we mutually broke up on october 13, 2010.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° andrew russell garfield [born aug. 20, 1983] is mr. wildest dreams. we met while i was auditioning for gwen stacy in the amazing spider-man of which i did get the part. we started dating on march 13, 2011 and dated up until august 19, 2014 due to me falling out of love. many of our fans were upset at the announcement as they’d hoped that we’d get married eventually.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° aaron perry johnson [born jun. 13, 1990] is mr. getaway car. we first met when we filmed godzilla and became friends. he filed to divorce sam in april 2014 and it’s officially finalized in october that year and unbeknownst to me, the reason for the divorce was because he’d started getting feelings for me. we started dating on january 13, 2015 which led to a lot of hate towards me with haters calling me a multitude of names, mostly ‘slut’ or ‘homewrecker’. the hate started getting to me mentally and i broke it off on april 27, 2016 which he understood. we lost contact after the break up.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° jonathan edward bernthal [born sept. 20, 1976] is mr. paper rings. we first met while filming season 2 of daredevil but didn’t start getting closer until filming for the punisher season 1 where we started dating on november 19, 2016. our entire relationship was kept completely private from the media & public which was something we decided together. we have two daughters together - willow laura bernthal (b. august 4, 2018) & maya iris bernthal (b. december 11, 2020). we actually got engaged on may 13, 2019 and had plans to get married in late 2023 but life got in the way and we split on good terms on march 23, 2023. i was actually very heartbroken and swore off relationships for awhile.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° katherine victoria litwack [born jun. 13, 1986] is mrs. bed chem. we met through a mutual friend and hit it off pretty easily. we started a casual relationship on april 4, 2024 that didn’t last very long as she wanted more but i was still heartbroken over the split with jon so we broke it off on june 27, 2024.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° aaron perry johnson [born jun. 13, 1990] is mr. so high school. we met again in august 2024 and reconnected easily. we haven’t started anything and have remained friends although rumors did immediately spark when he appeared in the background of some photos at my 35th birthday party. we’ll start dating again though on april 14, 2025.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Just a few months—

Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞 Heyyy can I request this prompt "Your lover kisses you goodbyes as usual, but when they start going towards the door, you run towards them and give them another deep kiss" with Luke Hughes ☺️

Warnings/notes: I'm a sucker for soft Luke...

End of summer celebration!!

There was nothing quite as depressing as the agony of watching the summer nights blend back into the schedule of the school year. The quiet passing of time and ticking of the clock as mid-August turns into early September. Which led to now, the long-awaited moment of separating from loved ones as schedules get busy and distances get longer after months of being attached at the hip.

Luke quietly organized all the girl's kitchen utensils as she found the perfect spot on the counter for each appliance. The silence of the looming departure and the fact that her three roommates had still not arrived settled in the empty space as the clock ticked.

In just a short hour the child would be saying their last goodbye until her Christmas break when he would fly her out to Jersey for a few days. They'd see each other a few other times, like when he played in Detroit or when would she commute out to Columbus to spend the night with him and see the game.

But from now until her graduation in April their love would exist miles apart from each other, manifested in phone calls, little packages in the mail to one another, and the occasional Facetime.

It was never ideal, always a challenge, but it was a sacrifice they were willing to make for another year before she packed up her life in Michigan and made the move to be with him. But there was always a future ahead of them, and that kept the spark alive.

Quiet tears welled in her eyes as she watched the concentration on his face as he placed all her forks in their respective spots, chewing the inside of his lip as he looked up to see the sad look that had washed over her face. He had long forgotten the cutlery and made his way over to her, his arms wrapping around her as he hugged her and her arm full of knit dishrags to his chest.

"What's got you all upset?" "Gonna miss you so much," she sobbed as she let go of all the clothes and wrapped herself around the boy, face buried in his soft t-shirt as he gently swayed them in an attempt to calm her down.

She let out a wet laugh at how dramatic she must look, "I just hate being so far from you," she shrugged as one of his hands wiped away the tears and mascara that tainted her perfect rosy cheeks. "It's gonna suck so bad," he agreed, "but we did it last year, and we only have the last year to go, so really this is like the home stretch."

His words were not overly helpful but she smiled at his lame attempts, pressing a kiss to his chest as he continued to sway them back and forth.

"And think about it, I'll be back here the second I can get on a flight for your grad." "What about Playoffs?" "Well we will cross that road when we get to it, but I will be here to see graduate, and then you'll come back with me to Jersey and we can go look at apartments and you'll be in grad school," he made everything sound so simple, which was far from the case, but to know he had some faith in the two of them felt nice.

"We have a plan, just got to make it to the end of this school year and will have the rest of our lives together," he mumbled before cupping the side of her tear-stained cheeks and pressing kisses to her temple and then a slow one to her lips before his phone began to ring in his back pocket.

His alarm goes off, voicing that he needs to head home to pack before his flight tonight.

Her bottom lip wobbled as his eyes glossed over slightly, "I love you," he mumbled into her hairline as she nodded and leaned into his lips. She pulled away momentarily to stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips, a long, delicate, a little rushed kiss that spoke more than words could as his hand travelled down to the small of her back and hers found his tone forearms. "I love you too," she said in between kisses as he pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers.

He dipped his head down to press a kiss to her cheek before holding her flush against his chest one last time, "I really need to go," he sighed as he nodded and pulled away. her hands whipped away her tears as he collected his things, leaving his sweater behind for her, a little surprise for later.

"Call me when you get home okay? And tell the boys I hope they have safe flights home," she said with a sad smile, as his hand caught hers and squeezed it one last time. "I will, and they told me to tell you to have a fun year," she smiled at the thought of the boys who had basically been somewhat of brothers to her wishing her well.

He took off in the direction of the door, not wanting to add anything else and make the two of them upset again. As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence that filled the room felt heavy, suffocating. She stood there for a moment, staring at the door, her heart aching with the sudden emptiness that occupied the room around her.

But something inside her refused to let this be the way they parted.

Without thinking, she rushed toward the door, her feet moving faster than her mind could keep up with. She yanked it open and bolted down the hallway, her breath coming in quick, desperate gasps. “Luke!” she called out, her voice trembling with urgency as she sped walked down the hallway.

He had barely made it to the stairwell when he heard her. He turned, surprised, his brows furrowed in concern. But before he could say anything, she was there, flinging herself into his arms for one last dramatic goodbye.

“I didn't like that goodbye, I couldn’t let you leave like that,” she whispered, her voice shaky as she clung to him. She pulled his face down to hers and pressed her lips to his, a kiss that was fierce, full of emotion, a kiss that told him everything she couldn’t put into words.

It was a kiss that tasted of longing, of love, of the fear of the months they’d have to spend apart.

Luke’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her back with equal intensity and as cliche as it sounded there was no love in the world that amount to the one he held for the girl in his arms.

When they finally pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing together as they stood there, unwilling to let go.

“Promise me you’ll be okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. She nodded, her hands cupping his face as she whispered back, “As long as you promise to come back to me.” “I promise."

They lingered for a moment longer, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence before he finally pulled back. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, then reluctantly let her go. “I’ll call you as soon as I get on the highway,” he promised one last time, his hand squeezing hers gently before he turned and headed down the stairs.

This time, she didn’t follow him.

She stood there, watching until he was out of sight, her heart aching but filled with the certainty that they would make it through this last stretch of being apart. And with one last sigh, she turned back to her apartment, the lingering warmth of his kiss still on her lips.

-

-

-

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #13 | 11.11.24

Feels good to be back! This is our first post-Kickstarter devlog and I'm so excited to be writing it.

First of all— Lost in Limbo was successfully funded on September 20th, 2024! 🎉🎇

Yep, it has been almost two months, but it's still something to celebrate! Thanks to every single one of you for making this possible! We didn't meet all our stretch goals (there were a lot and taxes are a pain) but that doesn't mean we are giving up on those. More on that another time.

There's a lot of things we want to show y'all, so let's jump into it!

A sneak peak of Envy's postcard!

Raquel has been working hard on getting the "special postcards from your favorite LI" ready to send them to print ASAP! Initially we were going to use art we already had of the LIs, but we thought it was more exciting to offer y'all exclusive art pieces. After this, Raquel will focus exclusively on the rework of the sprites!

We hosted a few polls and got a lot of feedback. If you missed it, you can check it here!

Astro says hello :^)

As you know, the Extended Demo will feature more locations, including a glimpse of the MC's city, Faybourne! Astro is getting the main street ready for you and your bestie as you go on about your day. I've calculated around three / four different and new locations to properly pace the demo as we imagined it in the first place!

The writing deparment (me. i'm the department) has been focusing on the Extended Demo script. I have a lot of things to play with, like the flavor choices, the personality choices, and more. I want to create a proper balance because one of the things y'all asked for was more choices, and the pacing needed a bit of fixing, as we already knew!

The Extended Demo will actually introduce characters you've heard about, like your mom, your ominous grandmother, and your bestie. So no more talking about them, you'll actually get to meet them like we wanted to!

There will also be more time with the LIs, and hopefully the amount of time you spend with each one of them will feel more balanced, too.

Programming has been an adventure! Huge shoutout to Feniks for helping me figure out how to properly make a toggle for the timed choices as well as helping me polish the personality system. What a lifesaver!

So the timed choices toggle now works perfectly. That means you'll be able to turn them off if you'd like to play the game without being jumpscared by a timer—that doesn't mean you won't be able to mess up, though, on purpose or not :^) This is a dark game, after all!

The personality choice system lets you decide how the MC reacts to things including the nature of your romance with the LI. That means dialogue will automatically change in certain parts of the game to reflect the personality of your MC, some options will be locked, some unlocked, etc. There's three different personalities available.

For colorblind folks, the choices will have a different icon when you hover over them for you to know they're different!

Also, I've started coding some extra mini cgs Kayden's been working on! There'll be more in the Extended Demo to enhance the experience, so we hope you enjoy them! :^)

All the packaging stuff has arrived to our provisional headquarters (Raquel's home), and our business cards have been secured! Every backer with physical goodies will receive one for free :^) This month has been all about managing Backerkit, orders and merch, as well as preparing the Extended Demo. We hope we can receive everything very very soon and start shipping packages starting December!

For now, that's it! There's a lot of stuff going behind the scenes, a lot of things that need attention, and a lot of planning happening. Also the catastrophe the DANA has been on our cities is keeping me a bit on edge, but I'm trying to focus on work. This Saturday I'm going on a trip to Greece with my family, so I'll disconnect then! It's our first time traveling to a different country since I was like...seven years old? And we have been saving up and preparing a lot for the trip, so we are excited :^)

I hope everyone has been taking care and doing alright! Have a huge hug from the Ravenstar Team, and see you around!

[biancasaidstfu]

I don’t think people are using just a little bit of common sense. Let’s go back..,

Nic did that audiobook. A book that was too close to home. A book that made people think, am I in the twlight zone. And she recorded that book in september, so she was aware of the shipping mania.

why didn’t Nic and JD spend Christmas & NYE together. Now I can understand Christmas but NYE.

people complaining that Luke probably- depends on one’s view of the photo- Antonia to LA. But are we forgetting Nic and JD went to NYC in October and JD was not at the Times Event Dinner. So please stop saying he took her to LA to sit in the room. Grow up people!!!!! It’s the same pattern.

The hug seen all around the world. The way he slightly pulls her is possessive. That hug broke the internet. But people say they are beefing. I’ve never seen Luke or Nic hug their alleged partners. He even tries to hold her hand.

Lukey is a man of facial expression. It’s funny how people will say, oh he is angry with A, but say him and Nic are beefing when he smiling like the Joker on national media outlet.

JD likes attention too. I’ve seen so many people say, A is so awful and JD is working hard and has a good head on his shoulder. Be for real. JD trolls people too and with the help of Nic his name got out there too. Yes, he went to drama school. But to say he did this all on his own is not true. Not downplaying him going to school to study the craft just being honest.

Nic’s follow. I have seen this argument as to why Nic is following A all over SM. Nic and Antonia had a chance to finally talk and decided to follow one another. BS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do people seriously think that two women, who have a shared person of interest- Luke - need to finally meet in LA, go across the freaking map of the US just to finally sit and met and talk to her. Be for real. That’s the dumbest thing over ever read. And I’ve read a lot of dumb stuff in this fandom. Luke would have told Nic months ago, for a sit down. Don’t people remember she already knew of her in NYC. Use logic people.

Nic’s overcompensation on buddy. Nic we know you and Luke are close. Maybe she called him buddy bc now people outside of the bridgerton world saw how they acted. But!! Aren’t there multiple new media outlets with articles she is dating JD???? Those said media outlets interviewed her. This is how you know those are articles just repost of DM with no fact check or interview. Not once does she try to correct with JD. Now one could say bc that’s her man. But if that is her man, why feel the need to let people know Luke is buddy.

lastly, could I be wrong, yep 😂😂. But I love Luke and Nic and that won’t change. But only two options are at play 1. Nic and Luke are together. The follow of A is a wild card to paint the narrative- we all friends. Fans the ones that made mountain out of hills. But Nic, for some reason, is not ready. Luke is about to pop lol OR Following A was to help like our. Him and A got into an argument and Nic said - I got you bc she knows added fuel to the fire too. And JD reposted and commented on Nic photo bc they too got into an argument and he got jealous. But honestly, I think Nic & Luke are together. It’s fun to be delulu at times, but I look at the clues and analyze. I believe all will come to light soon. But whatever one believes, people need to be adults. Using a bug emoji is childish.

thanks so much B for your blog. It’s truly the best one out there.

Thank you anon ❤️❤️❤️

And I agree.

When you only focus on Nic following Antonia, you’re only seeing one possibility. You’re forgetting about everything else flying around the follow.

One anon asked me why would they go through such extreme lengths to hide their relationship.

It’s not hiding it, not really. It’s protecting it and keeping it private. Imagine the kind of salacious bullshit that would come from a sudden NicLuke drop with loose ends out there. Media outlets get whiff of stank coming from any direction and it’s allegations out the ass left and right.

And this is only one angle! There’s a number of possibilities that can occur without a plan and those can quickly spiral out of control.

There’s strategy here, people.

[maybankslover]

dropped my hand while dancing - rafe cameron

rafe cameron x kook!reader

part two

warnings: angst, mention of pregnancy, break up, mental health

summary: what happens when the only love you've ever known doesn't love you anymore?

playlist

series masterlist

the cameron's were the one's in charge of the cancellations and to let everyone know the wedding was off.

sarah now had y/n's wedding dress hanging in her closet as the store called her when it wasn't picked up on the day it was supposed to and neither y/n or her mom answered their calls.

rafe saw it when she brought it to tanyhill. it was gorgeous and it represented he so well. and even if he tried to fool everyone, he wasn't doing alright.

her family got everything out of their once shared home, when he came back after they'd left it was as if she had never been there at all. not one piece of her had been left behind except for the pictures hanging in the walls, he couldn't sleep that night. his sight set on the cold spot next to him in bed.

he missed her.

the news on the island spread quickly and he now got dirty looks on the streets, in the country club by the elder people who known them since they were kids wondering how he could leave his high-school sweetheart and pregnant fiance. a very beloved girl in their circles.

he hadn't seen her since she left the hospital, her parents wouldn't even open the door of their house and his mom then told him that y/n and her mom had left the island, probably to her grandparents home on the mainland.

a month later sarah told him that her and the baby were okay. they were expecting a little girl.

topper's pov

"dude." I sit next to rafe in the living room of my house.

"what top?"

"I thought you'd want to see this." I hand him my phone. "y/n sent this to maia last night, said she's entering the third trimester and almost seven month. also said she has almost everything"

rafe looked at the picture, a round belly showing.

"she broke down crying when maya asked what she was missing so we could maybe send it to her."

to me rafe fucked up so badly and will forever regret allowing his intrusive thought's to overcome his feelings. he won't ever find anyone as good as her or someone he'll love as much as he loved or loves her.

he still loves her, if he didn't he wouldn't have become a shell of who he was at her absence.

third person pov

two weeks after topper showed and sent him the picture he couldn't stop looking at thinking about how it would feel to touch her belly, how his daughter moving would feel under his touch. the texts he had been sending for the past two and a half months for almost everyday to her finally got a reply.

"hi, my due date is ironically september 21st. thought I would let you know. hope you're doing alright." one picture attached.

rafe almost jumped from his chair at his office.

21st, their anniversary.

"y/n, can I call you? please." delivered.

he was now living at tanyhill again, couldn't stand being in their home without her.

"rafe!" sarah shouted from the living room. "rafe get the fuck down here right now."

"I'm coming jesus, why are you screaming?" he jogged down the stairs. "what happened?"

"y/n/n gave birth last night. on the 20th at 19.37 pm." he almost fainted, his daughter was born and he hadn't been there.

"what? how did you found out?" rafe took her phone from her hand to watch the picture. the two pictures.

there she was holding the baby girl and another of the baby girl alone.

"she's perfect. how did she call her?" tears streaming down his face.

"sky. said it's the name you liked and that she looks exactly like you." rafe sat down with his head in his hands.

"what have I done sar?"

"I wish I knew but she gave me the hospital she's in, told me to let you know."

that same afternoon rafe knocked on the hospital bedroom door giving it a few seconds before coming in.

"y/n/n."

"hey." the baby girl peacefully sleeping in her arms.

"are you alright?" he asked approaching the bed.

"yeah in a bit of pain but it's alright." she looked down at her daughter. "she's sky." she smiled at him. "wanna hold her?"

"yeah yes please." once he had sky in his arms and sat on the chair beside the bed, his eyes instantly filled with tears and everything he had been repressing, all his love for y/n came rushing back in an instant. "she's perfect."

they spent a few minutes in silence contemplating their daughter before she spoke up.

"I'll alow you and your family to see her but it'll be arranged with my parents to bring her to y'all. I'm not prepared to be around you yet." she couldn't really maintain the eye contact.

"y/n/n about that..."

"it's okay, you stopped loving me and even if it still hurts me like hell and I can't wrap my head around it. she deserves to know how good it feels to be loved by you."

on that moment rafe truly realized the mistake he had made.

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[thisismeracing]

Your time | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader ― Warnings: mentions of cheating; lots of rumors about lewis being an a*hole; mentions of juliana nalu and shakira, but all fictional. ― Summary: A couple months after the biggest breakup in the F1 paddock, your song gets leaked and the internet uproars about your relationship again. This time they have more ammunition than ever to feed the narrative that Lewis Hamilton cheated on you. Are they right though? (based on this request).

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September, 2023

paddockgossip

liked by ynfan, haileybieber, and others

paddockgossip how would you guys feel if your man goes out with another singer and looks this cozy while you’re out there on tour working your ass off? 👀

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sunshineyn you know shits real when her friend hailey likes the post…

⤷ pinterestyln I thought the same

leclercnation you guys forgot to add that yn and shakira aren’t friends, were never seem together, couldnt bother to talk about one another, yet this is the second time we see her around lewis this week…

randuser @ yourusername bestie come get your man!

schumakatchau this looks oddly like a double date

raintyres GUYS HIS HAND PLACEMENT!!! HES HOLDING SHAKIRAS WAIST 😭😭😭😭

tomdayastan my girl Yn doesn’t deserve this

evansnature are you guys really that surprised? He’s a man, I expect anything from a man

January, 2024

February, 2024

f1wagsupdate

liked by pierregasly, mbappeworld, and others

f1wagsupdate According to our sources Yn Yln and Lewis Hamilton broke up ealier this month. There is not an official reason yet, but most fans believe that cheating was the cause of the downfall of the four-years-long relationship.

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user44 is true love even real?

gomezracing I hate it in here

drugobitch what if its because of the cheating rumors?

⤷ rand32 but why would she wait weeks after it?

likedbypgasly and so it goes the best wag of the paddock :(

mclarenmason did you guys see that thread someone made about Yn's looks on the paddock and her cheering for lew, and them matching sometimes *sobs into my hands*

yourusername

liked by roscoelovescoco, k.mbappe, and others

yourusername making music and enjoying some free time after touring 💞

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mbappeworld I wish Lewis and Kyllian weren’t friends bc I kinda ship him with Yn 😭

hailyebieber 😍😍😍😍

sza waiting for our collabbbbb! ❤️

⤷ ynfan the day these two write a song together is the day I’ll be stuck in my room crying for a week straight

ynnation She looks so relaxed, more than when she was with Lewis

hardtyres_ I wish I could be like this after being cheated on, when my ex did this to me I had to go to therapy for at least a year before going back on social media

⤷ agoradoja there’s no proof he cheated on her

⤷ winteryln sure, except for the hundreds of pics of him with singers and models 😍 but y’all taking it too serious, he was just friendly with them

⤷ agoradoja maybe he was just friendly, Lewis is famous, dare I say even more than Yn, so being friends with different famous people is part of his life.

⤷ bonoschumi I’ll have to agree with agoradoja, there’s nothing too incriminatinf, maybe we’re just trying to find a reason because we don’t accept that they fell out of love

⤷ leclercmcqueen she literally wrote “its just us against the world” for him, wdym they fell out of love????

bieberfantasy yeah but how about roscoe liking the post????? It's making me hopeful

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[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

Seeing that other anon made me remember that I never actually posted my Typhon theory, SO here we are! My apologies for the overall length of this message, I hope I'm not cluttering your inbox too badly! (That, and I'm sorry if someone has made this theory before. I don't check up here too often.)

SO! Now to my theory.

This Mew, pictured below-- that is Typhon.

So far, there are multiple things we know about both Janus and Typhon, which have led me to believe that this is the case. I will present this evidence below-- it is going to get very image-heavy. I apologize.

Typhon has been shown, on multiple accounts, with a different bone structure, indicating some level of shape-shifting.

You have mentioned before that your design of Typhon has always been final, so I do not believe any alterations in his design to be due to said design being a prototype at any point in time. That being said, Typhon has been shown with both Mewtwo AND Mew anatomy.

As you can see in exhibits two and three, Typhon has the head shape of a Mew and, more importantly, the bone structure of one in exhibit three. Notice the three toes, and the lack of a dewclaw on his hind legs. His overall body shape is clearly that of a Mew.

However, in more recent images (most of which are too bloody for me to post), Goopy's body is clearly more Mewtwo-like, in both skeletal structure and his overall size. To get a better view of what I mean, I recommend that anyone (who can deal with the gore) to take a look at any image Typhon is in, and look at his skeletal leg. But for now, have exhibits four and five.

What I believe this to mean, I will go over in my conclusion.

2. Janus was aware of Typhon's existence.

Janus has told Fuji (and by that extent, us) that he was aware of Typhon's existence. That being, "Yung's other project". We are aware that they thought very lowly of both Yung and his creations, and given her reaction to Fuji when he was first created, I can imagine that her encounter with Typhon went much of the same. It is clear that Janus did not destroy Typhon, however, it is very likely that they believed him to die soon enough.

As you can see in exhibit six, Janus appears to recognize Typhon after he and Nemo sense him, and though at first he is in denial about the whole thing...

...she ends up with the grim realization that she may have underestimated Typhon after all.

3. Despite Janus knowing of Typhon's existence, they either thought he was dead, or did not consider him "complete" enough to fit among the ranks of the other Mewtwo.

Janus indicated that she knew of Bellatrix's existence before she was ever revealed to us as a character. This in revealed in the post made on September 26th, 2023, in which Janus laments about all of the Mewtwo that have been created. Notably, Typhon is not here, despite him being revealed only about a month later on October 31st, 2023. (Though one could argue that he had already been teased before then.) See, exhibit seven.

Janus has no reason to lie to us. They were forthcoming in just about everything else asked of them, so why be obtuse about this? Same with Omni. Omni and Janus are friends, and yet when Omni asked if anything had "happened" before then, Janus doesn't answer the question specifically. If there was another Mew in Janus's world, an ACTUAL MEW, one that could have been considered family-- I do not see any reason that Janus would have to withhold that information from not only their equal, but their friend.

I take this to mean that Janus never considered Typhon to be alive-- at least, not before now. Nothing more than a failed experiment, until she was forced to reconcile otherwise.

4. Conclusion:

Because of the information presented above, I believe that "baby Mew" you showed us is actually Typhon.

Janus very clearly has met Typhon before, but only thought of him as a "project". She met him likely a long time before ever meeting Bella, maybe even around the same time she met Fuji-- meaning that her opinion on clones was not a positive one. Combined with the fact that Janus never considered Typhon to be "as alive" as Fuji, Bella, Zeus, and the others, I doubt they never expected him to be fully sentient or capable of surviving. It is entirely within the realm of possibility that Janus left Typhon to die, expecting that "failed experiment" to simply dissolve away. After all, he "lacks" what Nemo "stole".

Typhon's form is very clearly unstable. I think, when he was first created, Yung attempted to make a Mew. But Mews, as we have seen with Nemo's coma, have very unstable DNA, and Typhon's body was unable to hold itself together. He was always destined to die. He knew it, Janus knew it, and instead of helping him, Janus left him. His body, still, is prone to spontaneously dying-- if that revive stone is any indication. I think that as he grew, his body warped itself into something more "stable", something his DNA was actually capable of holding together-- a Mewtwo.

Him appearing as a mangled Mew instead of a Mewtwo in Nemo's dream is likely his "ideal self". Nemo got the stability that he never had, the body that he never had, and he wants it back. In the real world, he is unable to hold the form that he was born with, and so he must settle for something less. Something inferior. He could have just taken Fuji's body and ran, but no, that's not what he's after. Typhon wants to be a Mew, he is a Mew-- and there's only two Pokémon on Earth that could ever help him achieve that goal.

Or at least, that's what I think.

I wanna eat this ask like a massive bowl of spaghetti mmmmm

[chimivx]

‘after all the boys and girls that we’ve been through, could you give it all up if i promise to you, that i’ll never talk again, and i’ll never love again’

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➳ college!teez x fem!reader (oc) - nice for what cast ➳ 8.6k (part two of ???) ➳ 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, angst, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW! *pay attention to time stamps <3 *

saturday ~ september 13th ~ 11:49 pm

Burying your face into his neck, tightening your arms around his torso, you slung a leg over his waist and scooted even closer. 

“You can’t take up the same space as me, Ro,” Wooyoung mumbled, lifting his chin for you. Taking the win, nuzzling yourself further into him, you took a long, deep breath. “That was good.” His whispered compliment made you smile.

His cologne lived on his skin, his bare chest you laid on top of, the soft scent now intertwined with remnants of him. Comforting. 

An hour ago he was driving you home, holding onto your hand from the driver's seat, his thumb massaging into the palm of your hand. A few silent tears had slipped down your cheeks, ones he hasn’t asked you about yet, but you knew the questions were coming. He couldn’t ask you during the drive. Your father sat in the backseat.

His surprise birthday dinner had been a success, he had no idea where you were going, what had been planned, and amidst any and all delusional distractions, he’d had a great time. Wearing a smile for most of the evening, taking photos of himself, of you, of Wooyoung, of Keeho and Theo who had joined the three of you… Your father was happy. He sat beside you, talked with you, and laughed with you. Light lived in his eyes. It’d been a weary two months, so to have him upright, smiling, and speaking in full sentences, relief wasn’t enough of a word to describe how it felt.

Wooyoung dipped his chin and looked down toward you. Taking a hand from your back he swiped his thumb over your cheek and whispered, “You’re crying.”

“No m’not,” you mumbled into his shoulder, and he let out a quiet laugh.

“Ro, your tears are dripping onto my chest, you’re crying.”

“I’m drooling.”

This time he laughed for real, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You haven’t drooled over me in a while,” his hand caressed your cheek, tilting your chin up, “Either you’re crying, or we need to have a conversation.”

His black waves, shorter now that he’s cut them, they lived over his forehead, dusting his lashes that fluttered around his deep brown eyes. Golden skin, a beautiful curved nose, a freckle on his cheek… The two of you used to spend nights devouring one another, famished, never getting enough. Hands palming skin, teeth grazing curves, tongues teasing sweet spots, breath heavy, bodies sweaty.

Now they’re spent like this. Tangled up with one another. Platonically. Mostly. 

Okay, maybe there’d been one ATZ party a week ago where he pushed you up against the bathroom wall and brought you to orgasm twice, but, platonically, of course.

That love and relationship mess, neither of you had the time or patience for it, which in turn led your situationship to an almost hard stop. Mutually. You’ve grown up in the near complete year you’ve spent together, you’ve helped one another in more ways than one, you learned about yourselves, you made it through hardships with someone by your side, and realized that the love you had for each other wasn’t romantic in the slightest.

Someone else held onto that within you.

“Why the tears?” he asked gently, dragging his thumb beneath your lashes.

Pouting, you whispered, “They all think we’re dating. You heard Keeho tonight.”

“The wedding joke?” Wooyoung asked, and when you nodded he clicked his tongue. “Didn’t bother me.”

“My dad loves you, what am I supposed to say to him?”

Shifting beneath you, he let out a breath. “You tell him the truth.”

“You know what he says about you,” you mumbled, “He’s said shit to your face.”

Wooyoung is incredible, I don’t know where you found him, but he’s unlike any other boy your age.

Bring Wooyoung over for dinner, or after, or let’s go to Haven, I need to talk to him about something…

How’s Wooyoung doing? That kid is great, I’m so happy you found him.

Haven’t seen Wooyoung for a minute, he alright?

Wooyoung is fine. Wooyoung is alive, and well, and thriving, and fine.

You just weren’t dating him.

And to roll with the truths, you never were.

The relationship you shared never escalated past a mere friends with benefits type of level, and you were okay with that. He had been there for you when you needed a crutch, when you needed someone to catch you, someone to step up for you. You’ve had the conversations, you’ve heard his theories, everything had been discussed at some point or another, even more so since Yeonjun had been hospitalized. 

You never used him, you never took advantage of his feelings nor did he take advantage of yours. At one point you both felt that feeling, that this is mine feeling, but then July came to an end. Life had been put into extreme perspective. You almost lost your best friend this summer, the boy you love won’t speak to you, and your father has to go see a cardiac specialist once a week for the rest of the year.

On top of that, recruitment hung over your head like a dark cloud. ITZ, buzzing with life and an energy so light that the new girls seemed to skip around the hardwood floors, twirling like they belonged in some Disney film, she was your responsibility, the sorority. The big decisions, they fell on you. Just tonight at dinner you received three texts from Seonghwa with questions about the dinner, when it was going to be planned and if he was going to hear from Chaewon, the newly appointed social chair, Tori’s old position, or hear from you, the president.

It all felt so big, the unease something you scrambled to hold within your hands, an attempt to control it though it’d be impossible. 

“Aurora,” Wooyoung whispered, dragging his hand over your cheek. His thumb brushed away stray tears. “We know what we are. I know what we are, if you’re trying to spare my feelings, don’t. You love him.”

“You don’t like him,” you whispered.

Wooyoung perked his brows. “Can you blame me? It’s something I can work on, but he hurt you, and he continues to hurt you. I don’t like what he said to you, I don’t like how he’s been treating you.”

Taking a breath, you whispered, “If I can get over that, can’t you?”

“It won’t be easy,” he said, blinking toward you, his long lashes brushing his cheeks. “But, I can try. 

“Tori kinda doesn’t wanna talk to me about him,” you said, pushing your hands into his bare chest, “I need someone to say things to, Wooyoung, you can’t leave me hanging.”

He smiled and took his hand away from your cheek. “Why won’t she talk about him?”

“Because… They’re all friends again,” you whispered. Wooyoung’s lips formed a frown. Laying back down on his chest, he nestled his chin in your hair. “Her, Yunho, Mingi… The three of them, they’re good. She doesn't do it on purpose, I just know that she doesn’t wanna hear the stupid shit anymore.”

Wooyoung breathed. “So, you agree that it’s stupid? This thing going on with him? Not talking to each other?”

Scrunching up your face, you groaned. “Of course it’s stupid,” you muttered. “But, this is how it goes. The drama.”

“Can’t have you guys without it, can we?” he half asked, following up with a giggle.

Laughing with him, one half hearted, you picked up your head and smiled. “Why do I enjoy it?”

Placing both hands on both of your cheeks, he squished your lips and shook his head. “‘Cause as long as you’re playing this game you still have him. Does he talk about you? Does Tori tell you anything he says?”

Blinking, you averted your eyes to his chest. “He does,” you whispered. “She’ll tell me, but it’s small mentions, nothing more.”

“So he’s interested, then,” he said, and you pursed your lips. “What’s stopping this from happening?”

You whispered so quietly, “He’s the worst,” and Wooyoung cracked a laugh. 

“He’s mad you tried to cut him off and attempted to move on with me,” he said. “We all know this. He hated me from the start ‘cause you liked me first.”

Furrowing your brows, you said, “He had every chance to make a move then, and he didn’t. He waited until I was crying in his arms. What’s that say about him?”

Wooyoung huffed. “That he doesn’t know how to make a move.” 

You slumped on top of him, face into chest. “And it’s adorable.”

Rolling his eyes, throwing his hands out, Wooyoung laughed and slid them around your back. “You’re something else, you know that? Make up your mind, is he a jackass, are you in love with him, does he suck, do you want him?”

Muffled by his chest you mumbled, “Hell yeah, I want him.” Wooyoung laughed. Picking up your head, your eyes softened. “My dad doesn’t like him. There’s too much happening right now, I can’t tell him any of this.”

He drew one of his hands in a circle. “Ro, you have to. You can’t lie to him. This isn’t something we can pretend to do for the rest of our lives. You want Yunho, you want to be with Yunho, and eventually I’m gonna find someone too, and they aren’t going to be okay with me having an imaginary girlfriend.”

You pouted. “I guess not.”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes. Sitting up, he brought you with him, your legs wrapping around his waist. Glancing down between you, he sat your hands on your lap and maneuvered you off of him. “Let’s start with this,” he said as he moved over, giving you space to sit beside him. “No more physical stuff between us, okay?” A smile broke out on his face at the sight of yours, distraught. “Ro, you want to be with him, you can’t be doing these kinds of things with me.”

Shoving your hands in your lap, you sighed. “Yeah, okay.” You dropped your head. He took a hand beneath your chin and lifted it, forcing you to look at him.

“What happened to Aurora?” he asked, voice soft, tone gentle. “You were once a girl who didn’t take anyone's shit, now you fawn any chance you get.” 

Gulping, he felt it. “Shouldn’t you know the answer to that?”

He smiled. “I do know the answer to that,” he said, pressing his fingers into your cheeks. “I can remember those first two years, freshman and sophomore year, how different they were from the last… From the start of this one. You were loud, in the best way possible, and I thought,” he paused to laugh, “Either this girl is the shit, or she’s fighting to be seen.”

Blinking, a tear slipping down your cheek, you whispered, “Which one was it?”

Wooyoung brushed your cheek clean and brought his hand back to himself. Tilting his head, he smiled. “She’s the shit. She’s everything you could ever want. She’s kind, she’s thoughtful, she’s in a thousand places at once at all times, but she won’t ever forget to let you know that she loves you.” He took you in, then sucked in a deep breath. “She knows where she belongs, but she’s afraid to admit it. She’s scared, of a lot, and she has every right to be,” he leaned forward to wipe your cheeks once more, the tears streaming, “Her life hasn’t been easy, but it can be. She just has to remember who she is.”

Falling forward, catching him in a hug, his arms strapping around your body tight, through a shaky breath you whispered, “Thank you. For everything. I do love you, Wooyoung. So much.”

Taking a hand to the back of your head, he grazed his nails against your scalp and smiled. “I know. I love you too, Aurora. I’ll always be here for you. You can do this.”

A sob thundered through you, your hands clutching onto him tighter. From a tiny spark of a crush, to a sophomore fling, burning out to utter heart broken strangers, blazing back into full time lovers, cooling off to friends hurt more than it should. 

“What if I miss you,” you whispered between sniffles, “What if I can’t do this?”

“You can,” he soothed, running his fingers through your hair.

“But, this is it,” you said, pulling away from him. With hands on his shoulders, you squeezed him. “I tell him this, and it’s really over.” Wooyoung tried to keep a light smile on his face, but his pout persevered. “He’s getting calls from my mom, Wooyo. I can’t handle that. He can’t handle that. What if it gets worse with her, what if she tries to show up, what if she tries to… I don’t know, get to him?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I’ll be here for you, we’re friends, you’re the closest one I have right now, I’m not going anywhere. If she tries to do anything else, anything more, I’ll be the first one beside you to kick her ass. You’re not alone in this. Ending our,” he searched for the word and came up with a shrug, “Relationship, doesn’t mean we’re ending our friendship, this connection we have and share. I don’t want to lose that, whether you get with Yunho or not.”

Nodding, you wiped your own cheeks and tried to take a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll tell him.” Moving off of the bed, Wooyoung followed you, kicking his legs off the side.

“Wait,” he said, hushed and rushed, “Right now?!”

Stepping into the center of your room, you gave him a look. “Yes, right now. If I don’t do it now, I never will.”

He dug his fingers into the sheets. “I’m still here, what’s he gonna say about that? Are you going to tell him the actual truth?”

Tossing your hands aside, you let them clap against your thighs. “The truth or not, what do you want me to tell him, Wooyoung, I’m confused!”

He slid his hands over his sweatpants and took a deep breath. “You tell him whatever you want to tell him, Ro. I just wanna be prepared if I have an angry dad barging in here or not.” 

Taking yourself to the door, you yanked on the handle and pulled it open. “He can’t move that fast right now,” you said to him, and gave him no further context. He nearly leapt off the bed as you winked at him through the crack of the door as you pulled it closed.

Crossing your arms over your chest in the silent hallway, you took a moment to breathe. Empty walls stared at you, the vacant space sent a chill down your spine. To your right, the sight of the kitchen made your stomach sink. Empty. Taking a few steps toward it, you peeked into the living room and clenched your jaw. Only the couch and chairs remained. Everything else had been packed up. You and your fathers life, almost thirty years of it, in boxes. 

The clothes you didn’t take with you to Nasara got folded into cardboard and duct taped shut. Shoes, books, plushies, bed sheets, bath towels, picture frames and polaroids that used to hang on your walls, all of it. Packed up. 

Memories lived within these beaten up walls, every scuff and knick in the paint courtesy of you and Keeho. All of your firsts happened here, you took your first steps down this hallway, your first A+ got hung up on the fridge that still stood in the kitchen, your first kiss happened on the porch, your first time on the couch in the living room, your Nasara acceptance letter opened in the kitchen, your dad helping you pack your suitcase the summer before freshman year…

He was going to live with Yoongi for now, until you graduated, though he tells you indefinitely so that you can move on with your life. You once dreamed of moving out on your own, somewhere up in Iloa had always been the goal, the city, but now, after this summer, everything’s changed.

You couldn’t leave him alone. Even now that the first semester has started you’ve spent more time at home then school it seems. Wooyoung willing to drive the two of you back and forth from Delo to downtown Tamoe, either dropping you off for the weekend or spending a night with you and Yeonjun, he did it for you, to ease your mind, to put an end to your worries about him.

The idea of leaving him, of moving out and not living in the bedroom next to him- terrified you.

His door, white and scuffed like yours, one you’ve opened many times in the middle of the night as a child, and a few times as of recent, though the nightmares that plagued you now were much different than the monsters that haunted you at seven years old. When he first came home, Yoongi stayed with you for a while, he either stayed in your bedroom or on the couch. You slept next to your father, starting on the floor, until you migrated into bed beside him, sitting up against the headboard, knees tucked into your chest, watching him sleep.

Those nights left you scatterbrained, sleepless hours exhausting you, a walking corpse who couldn’t drink enough coffee, who Wooyoung couldn’t snap back to reality. Some days you couldn’t place your left from your right, your actuality from delusion. He cooked for you and Yeonjun, he drove to some doctors appointments if Yoongi wasn’t available, he called Yeonjun to check in if he hadn’t been around in a couple of days.

Your rock once again. Selfless, compassionate, caring.

Whipping around to glare at your bedroom door, you sucked in a breath and released it with a sigh.

Maybe it’s a mistake walking away from him. Maybe putting an end to what the two of you shared would do more damage than good. There’s the chance that Yunho would never look at you again, never speak to you again, and here you were walking away from one of the greatest things that's ever happened to you. In these months you’ve shared with him he’s taught you more than you’ve ever known in your twenty two years of living.

Footsteps sounded behind your bedroom door and before you had the chance to scurry off somewhere, he opened the door, surprised to see you. Looking from your pout, to your folded arms, to how you barely made it down the hallway, Wooyoung shut your door as quietly as he could and stepped in front of you. 

Taking his hands to your cheeks, he smoothed his thumbs beneath your lashes and smiled. “I’m not letting you not do this,” he whispered.

“Where were you going?”

The worry in your tone made him frown. “The bathroom,” he assured you, “I’m not leaving.”

“Promise?”

He nodded once, coming closer to you. “Promise,” his eyes flickered to your lips, “I’m gonna give you this one last time, okay?”

Breath hitching in your chest, eyes fluttering shut, you nodded, whispering, “Okay,” and he pressed his lips to yours, catching them in a kiss so soft your knees buckled. Sliding your arms around his shoulders, an attempt to deepen what he gave you, he allowed it for a few seconds, then pulled away. 

With eyes on your lips, he smiled. Brushing his nose against yours, he whispered, “I’m officially off limits, Ro.” 

A whine caught in your throat. “I don’t get San rules, what is this? I can control myself.” 

Pulling away from you completely, starting opposite down the hallway, he shrugged and cracked a hushed laugh. “Think it’s more for me than it is for you,” he said with a cock of his chin, his bronze skin on display. Holding up both hands, walking backward, he opened and closed his fists twice and grinned. “You’re off limits now, too.” He disappeared behind the bathroom door.

If you knew that this would be it a half hour ago, that that kiss would be the last thing the two of you share, you would’ve crawled on top of him sooner, held off your tears for a moment, and let your lips dance across his skin persuading him into one more night before it all came to end.

Even if you tried, he wouldn’t let you. Whether he knew what you were doing or not, whether or not he knew he was ending everything tonight. That the two of you were ending everything tonight. This was mutual. You both wanted this to happen. 

It split your heart in two, and to make matters worse, the thought of Yunho didn’t glue it back together. The thought of Yunho grabbed both broken ends by the throat, twisted them together, strangled them, squeezed the life out of them, and threw them to the ground. You could watch him do it, you could visualize it now, similar to that night on the beach, on the porch in Haos, Yunho screaming at you, red in the fucking face. You never wanted him more. 

Tori told you of the night the two of you spent at Wave, the nightclub you ran into Yunho at. You barely remembered a thing, but she told you all about how he didn’t speak a word to you, how he was still respecting what you had told him no matter how silly it all seemed to everyone else. He helped you, he kept you on your feet, he carried you out of the bar, he sat with you on the beach, he held onto you like he couldn’t lose you, like getting to be with you that night even if you told him to his face how awful he was, it’s the one night from this summer he’ll never forget, one he still thinks of, because even for twenty minutes, you were his.

Then it went back to shit.

She told you what you called him. What you said about Wooyoung and your relationship, that you were jealous of her and Mingi, how they were soulmates, and yours hated you.

He hasn’t acknowledged you at an ATZ party yet this semester. You’ve walked by him on the way to class this past week since they’ve started, he doesn’t spare you a glance. The only message you got this summer since leaving Haos, one about Yeonjun, short and respectful, all centered around your father and how Yunho sends his healing prayers. It’s something you could dive deeper into, but you got a message from all of them, every guy, every single one of your friends, they all sent something similar. Yunho’s wasn’t special. 

But, it stuck with you.

Those sleepless nights, eyes locked in to the rise and fall of Yeonjun’s chest, leaning closer if he’d turned over in his sleep just to make sure he was still breathing, all that time spent awake on your own, you thought of him. Crawling into bed alone, it was him you imagined beside you, holding you, listening to you cry and ramble off your fears. You knew he’d make them his own, he’d hold onto them, cage them within himself so he’d never have to watch you feel them ever again. Wooyoung could help heal, but Yunho would immortalize you given the chance.

At least at one point it felt that way.

You wanted it back, you wanted it all back, even if it meant arguing for months before breaking through solution. You’d rather have screaming match after screaming match instead of this devout act of silence. 

The toilet flushed. Wooyoung was about to come back to bed and you were still standing in the middle of the hallway.

Clutching your arms tight, you whirled around and gripped the handle of your fathers bedroom door. Swallowing away nausea, tensing your muscles to rid of the nerves shaking through you, you pushed open his door and stepped inside, closing it carefully.

Sitting up, leaning against the headboard scrolling through his phone, he nearly broke his neck when the door opened.

“Aura,” he said swiftly, sitting forward, watching you walk around his bed, unable to meet his eyes. “What’s the matter?”

Throat tightening, tears welling up in your eyes, the sob fell from you just before you were face down on his pillows, flopping onto his mattress, rolling yourself up in a throw blanket laying across the comforter he laid beneath. 

“Aurora,” he said again, voice raised, glancing from his door to you. “Did something happen? What’s going… What’s…”

His voice trailed off. It only made you sob harder, wondering what went through his mind, what he could be thinking about right now.

His dinner had been perfect, and though you and Wooyoung appeared to act as nothing more than close friends, no one clocked the act. You sat beside him and lied to him, there’d been no inkling as to whether or not you two were breaking up.

Then again, just before the check arrived, taking photos of Keeho, Theo, and your dad who never wanted to be in any photos ever, the unimaginable happened. Your mother, Seori, called him, while you held onto his phone, leading you to sift through his missed calls, his unopened voicemails he seemed to be ignoring, and at first you scoffed at his ignorance and wanted to help him clear them out, but then you listened. Reading over the AI script left behind underneath a thirty second message, you pressed the phone to your ear, and you listened to her voice.

For the first time in your life, you heard your mother speak. 

Moments like this have always played through your mind at random, mostly when you were a child, imagining what it’d be like to have a mother, or to have her come back. Seulgi had been the closest thing you had, her and Keeho’s mother who treated you more like a daughter than her eldest son’s best friend. But, to have that connection with one, a mother, one you came from, you figured it’d feel more cinematic than sitting in a restaurant listening to her beg your father to see him over voicemail. 

The first experience you had with her.

Desperate, near tears.

Not in the slightest the strong woman Yeonjun made her out to be.

She’d been bothering him, and that infuriated you most of all.

It all came out of you at once, in one big jumble of words lost in the pillows, mere gibberish Yeonjun couldn’t even make out.

Wooyoung, your mother, Yunho, the presidency, your worries about him and his health, you spewed as much of it as you could, words overlapping, words half cut off by sobs, sentences broken in two and merged with another.

Yeonjun scooted closer to you and placed a hand over your back, drawing it in circles.

“Aura, sit up, please,” he said softly. Your mumbles didn’t stop. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, please, sit up. Calm down. Talk to me.” 

Lifting your head, face stained with tears, little hairs sticking to your dewey forehead, Yeonjun pouted his lips and pushed your hair back. He palmed both your cheeks and wiped your tears, then swiped a thumb beneath your nose. Muscle memory.

“Do we need a snack?” he asked. An attempt to get you to smile. Teary nights used to end with him carrying you on his hip into the kitchen, sitting you down on the counter so he could search through the cabinets over your head for cookies or something to make the hurt sweeter. 

You used to think he didn’t care. Somehow those memories got overshadowed by his disappearances down to Contramano, the time he’d spent away from the house, the business trips he’d take. Your mind focused on all those moments, days without hearing from him, detainment, picking him up at the station, leaving him there one night because you were fed up.

It took a lot for you to remind yourself that in between all of that he would walk you into the kitchen and feed you sweets while you cried. Even if he didn’t know what to say, if he couldn’t understand why you were crying, he still tried. 

Flopping back down face first on his bed, you sobbed again. Remembering hurt. Especially now. You’d do anything to go back in time before July, anything to relive those moments, to appreciate them a little bit more, to thank him for everything he’s done for you. You sobbed.

Yeonjun pressed his lips together and sighed to himself.

“It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

The hurt in his voice had you springing up to your knees.

“No,” you spat. Dragging the back of your hand over your cheeks, you choked back a sob and muttered, “Yes?” Meeting his eyes, his brows flipped over as he watched you. “I don’t know?!” “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said. 

Shaking your head, forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you said, “It’s fine, it’s not that, I didn’t need to know, you know that, we’ve talked about her before,  I just…” Swallowing a sob, you met his gaze and frowned. “I don’t want her bothering you,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “She needs to leave you alone, she doesn’t matter, you’ve got too much going on, and she’s never done anything for you, she-”

“She gave me you,” he said with utmost care, silencing you and your cries. Eyes glistening, his lips perked into a tiny smile. He slid a hand over his chest, over his heart. “If not for you, something like this would’ve happened to me a long ass time ago, Aura. I’ve said it to Yoongi, but I don’t think I’ve said it to you.” He thinned his lips and bobbed his head, his words knocking the breath from your lungs. “You saved my life.” 

Your sobs came back, a laugh sparking at his lips.

“Aurora,” he nearly roared, tipping his head backward, a grin on his face, “The drama, who are you? You’re supposed to tell me to shut the fuck up, or shove me, or spit an ‘Ewe!’ to my face!”

Moving over the comforter you nestled into his side to his surprise, taking your hands over one of his, slinging his arm around you. “That was before I thought I’d never lose you.”

He scoffed, his hand dragging across your arm, soothing you. “Please, nothing can take me out. All the shit I’ve been through? It’s gonna take a lot more to get rid of me.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you whispered, and he laughed again.

“Seriously,” he breathed, “You’re different. And as much as I appreciate it, it’s throwing me off.”

You grit your teeth together. “Apologies, Junie, that the sight of you unconscious in a hospital bed has changed me.” 

He let out a quiet laugh. “There you are,” he whispered. “Just thought my girl was losing her bite.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you mumbled, “She’s got plenty of that left.”

Yeonjun nodded, then tapped his fingers on your shoulder. “Why don’t you tell me about it. There’s more bugging you. I can feel it. We’ll leave the Seori stuff alone.” Her name made you shiver. “I’m not answering her calls, and they aren’t bothering me like you think they might be. Let’s leave it at that.”

“If it gets worse you have to tell me,” you whispered, and he nodded quickly.

“Deal. Now tell me what else is going on.” 

Taking a breath, you let it out in a pathetic attempt and closed your eyes.

Now or never.

“Wooyoung and I are broken up.”

His hand stopped moving on your arm. Even his breath staggered for a second. Opening your eyes, you gave him a look. He stared down at you.

“You and Wooyoung are… Wooyoung, in the other room, Wooyoung? In your room? Wooyoung who drove us to dinner, Wooyoung?”

“Yes,” you whispered, keeping your smile to yourself. It wasn’t funny, but the way he spewed his confusion amused you.

“I don’t,” he paused, lifting his head to stare at the wall like he could see Wooyoung through it. “I don’t understand. He just broke up with you now? Is he still here? You’re telling me he broke your heart after tonight?” 

The way he raised his voice somehow calmed you. You were going to have to start from the beginning. But with how he almost shouted, he cared. Looking down at you and how you’ve ceased crying, he twisted his brows together.

“Dad, we weren’t… We weren’t ever together.” 

He snapped his jaw shut. Then, he glanced away from you, waiting for more, leaving you to wonder if any part of this story brought back memories for him. 

“We… had feelings for each other, but I think once everything calmed down and we could look at things the way they really were, we realized we were better off as friends.”

He shot you a look. “He told me he loved you, Aurora.”

You sat up to face him. “And I loved him too.”

“Then why break up? Or, break things off, or, I don’t know.” His tone started to harden, sparking worry within you. “He’s so good for you, I’ve been saying half the reason why you’ve changed is because of him. I feel like our relationship has gotten better because of him.”

Rolling your head backward, you closed your eyes. “You looked back at him and his eyes softened. “I’ve realized a lot about myself, have learned a lot about myself, and sure, maybe it is because of him, but we’re getting better ‘cause of us. I want us to be better, for us.”

Yeonjun pointed his eyes to the blanket and nodded. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

“Please, try to stay calm,” you whispered, and he met your eyes again with curiosity. “We ended things mutually. This… involvement with each other. I still want him around, as a friend.”

“Good,” he huffed, and you shook your head. “Dad,” you warned, and he took a deep breath. “Calm. Please. I came in here to talk about this, because if I don’t do it now, I never will.” He nodded, keeping his breaths steady. “Do you… Do you remember Yunho?”

His name tasted funny.

It took him a few seconds of racking his brain. When he finally placed him, he shot up straight, but didn’t say a word.

“I know,” you whispered, scrunching up your face, letting your eyes fall shut. “Yes, that Yunho.”

Yeonjun tried his hardest to keep his heart rate down. “The history kid? The one that’s friends with Tori and her boyfriend? You all would hang out? And he’s the one you spent last summer with? And when I asked you if there was more than just friendship there with him you laughed in my face? And then when you came home last year, and you told me all about what I already knew to be true? The rooftop confession? And then he broke your heart, and then that girl, Fa-”

You reached forward and gripped his arm, cutting him clean off. He took short breaths in and out of his lips. Taking your time, ignoring all he just threw at you, you took long, deep breaths, coaching him to take them with you. Once he calmed, you sat back and sighed.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “That’s him.”

Through clenched teeth, he muttered, “What about him, Aurora?”

He was on Yeonjun’s list. This much you knew. After the incident there were a lot of people on his list.

Breaking into the smallest smile, a single tear sliding down your cheek, you parted your lips and breathed through a laugh. “I love him.”

You should’ve shot him instead, it would’ve hurt him less judging by the look on his face. Folding his hands in his lap, he closed his eyes and laid backward, leaning against the headboard.

“Aurora,” he said, voice steady, “Do you remember what he did to you?”

“Yes,” you sighed, lifting your hands, letting them fall into your lap. “But, I did things too, Dad, I’m not innocent in this argument, I actually slept with someone before I even knew he was sleeping with Mina, I-”

“Stop,” he cringed, looking over at you. “There are some things I do not need to know. It doesn’t matter what you did, he still kept it from you for a long, long time. He tells you he loves you, and he still stays with her? It’s fucked up, Aura, you deserve better than that.”

“I had better,” you said with a smile, then pointed at the wall. “He’s in there. He’s better. But, I still want Yunho. No one was dating anyone, there weren’t any boundaries broken, no cheating.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said just above a whisper. “Trust was broken, your heart was broken. Whatever you guys had, it was broken. He broke it. You cannot sit here and tell me he ever respected you after what he’s done. Cheating or not, together or not, he fucked up.”

You’ve been over it before. Again and again you’ve laid out the cards, pondered over them, and each time, it ends the same.

You want him.

You’re still hurt, and you still want him.

“If I can get over that, can’t you?” Repeating the words you said to Wooyoung, the words you’ll have to say to two more boys in the days to follow, they didn’t have the same effect.

“No,” he said flat out, “He really hurt you, how can I forgive him for that?”

“That’s fair,” you shrugged. “There’s a slim chance of anything happening between us anyway, so maybe you’ll get your wish and I won’t end up with him.”

Yeonjun sat forward, his brows flattening over his eyes. “Why you say that?”

“Because,” you shrugged again. “We aren’t speaking.” You glanced down to your knees. “We’re not in a good place, at all. ‘Cause of what he did, actually. You say I’m losing my bite, but I put him in his place. I told him he can’t talk to me unless I talk to him first.”

“Good for you,” he whispered, and you laughed, looking up at him.

“Yeah, good for me,” you rolled your eyes, “Until now, when I want to talk to him, when I want to work things out with him and he’s still following the stupid fucking rule. It’s been almost a year, and even if I’m incoherent he still follows the rule. He won’t talk to me unless I talk to him. All it takes is one word too, and he’ll talk to me. But, I won’t do it.”

“Why?”

You shook your head. “‘Cause I think I’m hoping he’ll talk to me first. I think… I think I’m testing him. If he really wants me, if he really loves me like he said he does, like Tori tells me he acts like he does, he’ll talk to me first. He’ll forget what I said, he’ll come to me. He’ll fight for me.”

You heard Yeonjun take a breath. “What if he doesn’t because… Because he does love you, but he’s… respecting your boundaries?” He realized the irony in his words from what he’s said prior and let out the smallest of laughs. “God damn, Aurora.” 

You looked at him, and he smirked down at you.

With a shake of his head, he said, “You’ve got him whipped.” A smile broke out onto your face, and he groaned. “I still don’t like it. Or him. At all. Awful.”

“I’m not a big fan of him right now either,” you whispered, wiping the smile off your cheeks. “Think that’s how I know I love him. I didn’t know what that felt like before him.”

Yeonjun bobbed his head. “I know exactly how you feel. Someone you love hurting you so bad to the point of never wanting to see them again only to have your heart crying for them every night.” Giving him a look, he shot you a side eye.

“Don’t answer her,” you whispered, and he gave you a weak wink.

“I won’t.” It fell quiet between you for a moment, until he asked, “He really won’t talk to you unless you talk to him first?”

A giggle came out of you. “Nope,” you said. “Not even a word. It’s gotten to the point where he won’t even look at me.”

Yeonjun glanced away. “Damn.”

“I know,” you breathed, “If I didn’t have Tori telling me he still asks about me I’d be thinking he wants nothing to do with me.”

Silence fell. Until he said, “You’ve been with Wooyoung all this time. Surely that’s hurt him.”

Gulping, you nodded. “It has, I know it has. He told me.”

Yeonjun scoffed. “When?”

“In Haos,” you said, looking over at him with a raise of your brows. “We… Got into a fight, it’s the last time we spoke. I wish that was it, that fight should’ve been us getting over ourselves. It was almost it, but…”

“What happened?”

Giving him a look, you smiled. “You.”

He cringed. “Eesh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, laughing between it. “A lot’s been put into perspective since then. I wasn’t thinking that our fight could’ve been the moment until after I flew home. You changed a lot for me. I don’t think I’d be ending things with Wooyoung, or be feeling so certain about getting Yunho back, and being only with Yunho if this summer didn’t happen. Any of it.”

His hand laid on your shoulder. Giving you the gentlest shake, he smiled at you, and whispered, “Take your time. Think. Remember.” He shook his head. “Don’t let your heart get the best of you, you’re in charge. Don’t forget that.”

monday ~ september 15th ~ 9:12 am

“And I have people coming in to clean,” Tori mumbled through the phone, half distracted by the makeup she told you she was applying at the same time. You heard the click of one of her products closing and another opening. “Caterers arriving sometime in the afternoon, I can’t remember when right now…”

Pulling your zip up around you tighter in the wind that blew through Nasara’s campus this morning, the grey skies shielded the sun, keeping any and all warmth away from you. At least everything was still green, you had about a month before everything went yellow. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you mumbled back to her. “Anything you wanna do, it’s good.” Sidestepping a group of freshman boys running by, one of them on a skateboard, you groaned and continued your brisk walk to class, phone pressed to your ear, arm wrapped over your chest.

“You’re off,” Tori said. “Talk to me later.”

A scoff came out of you. “Damn, Tor, I had a bad weekend, give me a break. Ask me how I am before you assume I don’t wanna talk to you.”

You listened as she took a deep breath, the line silent for a few seconds before she answered. “How are you?”

“Not great,” you said without missing a beat. A gust of wind blew your hair backward over your shoulders. “We packed the rest of our stuff up yesterday, and Yoongi helped the movers put the rest of our furniture into the back of a truck. I think this weekend was the last time I’ll ever be in that house again.”

“I’m sorry, Ror,” she said softly.

You sighed. “Yeah, me too. I told my dad about Wooyoung finally, and brought up Yunho.”

Tori groaned, then her voice got louder, like she picked up the phone to speak directly into it. “Speaking of Yunho,” she started, her tone already uneasy, “We didn’t have a great weekend either.”

“Who didn’t? You and Yunho? You and Mingi? And Yunho?” You scanned the campus in front of you and partially behind you, just in case. “Was there a party?”

“Yeah, they had a party,” she breathed. “Most of us were there, except you and Hongjoong, he went home this weekend too. It was normal for the most part, but I’ve never seen Yunho drink like this before, Ror, it was insanity. Mingi had to almost carry him up the stairs, he could barely stand, he was crying, and once we got him in his room he just popped off, and not in a good way.”

Like her words conjured him up, he turned the corner of the block you walked down. Headphones lived over his ears, his thin frames sat on his nose, and he was dressed nicely. Slacks and a button down with a brown jacket shielding him from the cold. Your heart winced. His eyes were tired. Tori’s story told the truth.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, watching him walk across the street and onto the lush green park that lived in the center of the old architectural circle you wound around. 

“We think he had a panic attack or something,” she said, carrying on. “He, like, couldn’t breathe, and he kept saying he wanted you, he needed you, and he cried. He kept crying. I’ve never seen him freak out like that. Mingi and I stayed with him, we all squished together in his bed. And, oh, he got so sick right after we got him to fall asleep. He just kept saying he wanted you, he wants you, he wants you…”

“Yeah, well, I’m looking at him right now, he sure wants me alright,” you said. He scrolled through his phone like mad, eyes pointed, focused. 

“He’s drowning in internship decisions. The ones that are asking for him he doesn’t want, and the ones he does want he’s barely making it in.”

Internships. God damn. Add another thing to a long list of shit you didn’t want to worry about but should be worrying about.

“He’s not always purposefully ignoring you, you know how he gets when he hyperfixates, you gotta break him out of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that what he wants me to do?”

The line beeped. Three times. Another call came through.

Furrowing your brows you pulled your phone away expecting to see your fathers name across the top, but it read Unknown Caller instead. Hitting the lock button to silence it, you went back to Tori.

“I don’t know what he wants you to do, we only talk about you when he brings you up, otherwise he shuts down. Mingi can’t even say your name without getting kicked in the shin.”

Focusing forward, your walk slowing down immensely, you stared at the ground. “What’s he been saying?”

Tori hummed. “The latest is you and Wooyoung. He doesn’t believe us when we say you’re broken up.”

“It’s been since July,” you hissed, and she giggled.

“He knows that. He sees you together on campus, it freaks him out.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Well, he should come ask me then if he doesn’t believe it!”

Suddenly, a door to your right swung open, almost wiping you flat on your ass. Stumbling back some, a gasp shooting through you, Kazhua turns out of it and gasps as well. A freshmen recruit.

“Aurora!” she shouted, reaching for you. One of her hands touched your shoulder. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, bobbing your head, placing your phone back to your ear. She eyed it and frowned.

“I interrupted your phone call,” she lowered her voice and shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

Shrugging your shoulders you adjusted your bag. “It’s just Tori, she’ll live.”

Kaz seemed to blink away surprise that started to manifest on her face. “Oh, just Tori,” she said. “Okay, good, I’m sorry again!” She started in the opposite direction, leaving you with a wave. “I’ll see you at the house later for the tours!”

Waving her off, you stepped off to the side of the building and posted up against it. Waiting for your heart to stop racing, you answered Tori’s question.

“It was Kaz,” you sighed. “She’s sweet.”

“...Yeah, she is.”

“Why’d you hesitate?”

There was another click of a palette. “Nothing, I’m doing my makeup, it’s nothing.”

Tightening your jaw, you said, “Okay, don’t freak me out about these new girls, I already have nightmares about them bullying me.”

Tori laughed after a smack of her lips. “They won’t bully you, Ror. I won’t let them. Have a good class,” she said, shifting around on the other side, moving from her vanity, “I have to get dressed, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Tours are today?” you asked, tapping your toes on the concrete. “Yes,” she said, her voice stern, “You have to be there, tonight at five.”

Scoffing, you fired back, “Where else would I be?”

“Wooyoungs?”

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting an actual answer,” you whispered, feeling your stomach sour.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

She didn’t even wait for you to answer, she hung up before you could even pull the phone from your ear. Tipping your chin back, looking up at the thick clouds breezing by in the grey sky, you take a deep breath and try to mentally prepare yourself for the day. Two classes, easy enough, and then an evening of hosting new members at the ITZ house, your house, the house you were president of.

The tours were easy enough, all the girls wanted was to see the house, top to bottom. Experience it for a night to really figure out if this was where they were meant to be or not. You and Tori knew it the moment you walked through the doors together, ITZ would be your future.

And here you were.

Gazing around at the tree branches dancing in the wind, your eye caught onto Yunho still hanging around the park, now sitting atop the grey stone ledge of a garden. Elbow deep in the bag he had around his back, his eyebrows had plummeted as he searched for something. 

Typical, you thought. He always forgot something, whether it be his books, his assignments, or his cell phone. Something got left behind, almost everyday. You went through a period of time sending him a morning text with a reminder of what he needed for the day, and you sent it everyday until he no longer needed it and started to remember on his own.

It’s been a while.

His hands dropped in defeat. Rolling his head backward with a groan you couldn’t hear, you watched as he squeezed his eyes shut and slumped his shoulders. Whatever he was missing, it was important. 

Moving to zip up his bag, he stood and swung it over his shoulders, and then, his eyes met yours.

And for two seconds, the world stopped.

The branches stopped dancing, the wind stopped blowing, your heart stopped beating.

And he walked away. In the direction he came from.

He didn’t spare you another glance.

Two seconds was all he gave you.

You waited to move until he disappeared around the corner he spawned from. Pushing off the wall you leaned on, you continued to class, swiping your phone open to hopefully find some distraction through Instagram. Maybe Chan was active, you haven’t talked to him in over a week, you could check in and see how he’s doing, if he ever made the decision to come back to school or not.

A red notification perched on the corner of the phone app sparked your interest.

Tapping on it, the Unknown Caller had left you a voicemail. 

Your blood ran cold. 

Feet planting into the ground, the bottoms of your sneakers welding with the concrete, you felt as though you moved at halftime as you clicked on the message. Lifting the phone to your ear, mouth going utterly dry, your stomach lurched as she spoke words you never ever wanted to hear her say.

“Aurora, it’s Seori, it’s your mom.”

NU home ✧ speechless masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes episode 118: Road Trip, part 1

Also entitled: On the Road Again

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

AO3!

CWs: Unsafe driving; oral sex; enthusiastic consent; heat/rut cycles; being stuck in a car with a musky werewolf

A/N: Fuck it! Writers block hit hard today, so y'all are getting the fun road trip 3-parter instead of anticipated requests.

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Another year, another summer. At least this year, Liam had finally got his car. The trip was simple: Land's End to John O' Groats across two days on the road, avoiding motorways where possible. Really taking in the winding B roads of England and Scotland. From the southernmost to northernmost points of the British mainland.

Getting to Cornwall was comparatively quick, which is a baffling thing to say when dealing with rail transport in the Southwest, but compared to the odyssey ahead of you, it actually was. You've been looking forward to this for months, the last time you saw Liam in person was September, before setting off to university, both of you leaving home and going to different cities. The smug git got into St. Andrews, you were studying in Cardiff. That trip might as well have been a world away.

You stepped off the train, the ocean wind whipping your sundress around your knees, threatening to take the wide-brimmed hat from your head. You set off to the coastline, butterflies in your chest at the thought of seeing your old friend again after so long. You wondered if he'd finally found himself a girlfriend... Or boyfriend, you never know. He'd never shown any interest in girls growing up.

There he was. You'd recognise that goofy nerd from a mile away. Tall and lanky, all ungainly arms and legs, a permanently-wagging tail and one pointed ear flopping down. He'd at least dressed for the weather, like you, although given that he was the sort of guy to wear jorts and flipflops in a blizzard, that may be reading too much into it. You snuck up behind him as he stared through a pair of binoculars, looking out over the endless Atlantic in front of you.

You stood on his left, tapping his right shoulder. You laughed as he turned to look, grabbing him from behind into a hug

"You goober! You always fall for that"

He laughed with you "Knobhead, I was waiting for you"

You let go and he turned around to look at you. He looked exactly the same as he did when you last saw him. It was only 9 months ago, sure, but it felt longer.

"Enjoying the view?" He offered his binoculars to you.

You looked out over the wide, flat ocean. Some tiny islands rose from the sea on the horizon, the shadow of a lighthouse in the haze settling over the cold Atlantic water "Sure is pretty out there"

"Yeah... Real pretty"

You handed him back the binoculars, "So, lunch first or do you want to get this show on the road?"

He laughed and took his car keys out of his pocket "I was thinking of fish and chips, but if you want to get rolling we can find a pub"

You followed him to his car, a slightly dented red Astra, and climbed into the passenger side. A few false starts later, the engine turned over and you were underway. Miles slid past, you told him about your time studying natural history and he regaled you with the kind of maths where you haven't seen an actual number for weeks. There was something about him describing the concepts that may as well have been entirely in Greek for all you understood, maybe the way he got so into the proofs, maybe his soft voice getting so excited when he'd come near the end of a complex proof, maybe just because you hadn't seen him for months and suddenly you're reminded of just how smart he was. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

You slid down country roads, hedgerows either side of you buzzing with life, watching out of the windscreen as you saw brief flashes of ocean as you passed through Cornwall into Devon. Calling out whichever farm animals you saw as the fields.

You started to become aware of a smell in the car. Warm, musty, not unpleasant, but strong. You cracked a window, still the smell didn't dissipate. You looked over to your driver. Liam was gripping the wheel hard, panting slightly as his jaw clenched.

"You OK? You want to take a rest?"

He looked at you. You'd never seen that look on his face before. It was like he'd just hiked across a desert, and you were a cold beer. You realised what the smell was. Your eyes flickered to his lap. His jorts were tight, his manhood pitching a tent in them.

Your breath left you. Your chest was so tight, like you'd just ran a mile. You swallowed hard, unbuckling your seatbelt and leaning over to him. He sighed as you unbuttoned his pants, springing free as you pulled down the band of his boxers.

You'd never realised he was this big. You could fit both of your hands next to each other on him and still have more cock left over. That's not even including the knot, thick and throbbing already. You wrapped one hand around the base of it, hearing him groan as you squeezed gently. The smell was so much stronger now. You could feel yourself getting wet, a spreading heat filling you as you inhaled his scent.

You kissed it, feeling it twitch as you did. It jerked to attention, swelling a moment as a pump of precum oozed from the tip, intensifying the smell as it rolled down his shaft and got on your hand.

"Do you want me to suck it?" You whispered, not sure he could hear you over the engine

His left hand left the wheel, grabbing the back of your neck where it met your skull. He guided you to the tip, your tongue reaching for it as you helped him guide you in. You half-lay over the centre console, one hand on his cock, the other propping you up. The tip was touching your lips, smearing them with the sticky-sweet pre. "Don't worry" you whispered "I can take it"

You weren't as sure as you made out. He believed in you though.

His hand pushed down on you. You opened wide, careful to shield your teeth with your lips so as not to catch him. He slid deep into your mouth. You felt him at the back of your throat. You were a little less than halfway down. He wasn't moving you, letting you acclimatise to having his cock leaking in your mouth before he did anything.

You bobbed your head a little, hearing him breathe. Your hand left his knot, reaching around to rest on his, still gently holding your neck. You squeezed his hand, moving it up and down as you did, wordlessly instructing him.

He always was a quick learner. He pushed your head down onto him, gently at first, but getting firmer with your encouraging murmurs until he was using you like you wanted. His cock hit the back of your throat, making gagging noises as he bruised your soft palette. You could hear his groans. He was getting close. Your tightened your grip on his knot. Groans turned to growls as he throbbed harder in your mouth. You were already gulping down his precum when he finally let go, forcing you as deep as he could.

You felt his cum in your throat, thick and hot, swallowing greedily. You felt him pulling the car over, then the other hand grabbed your head as well. He used your face, still pumping ropes of cum into you while he milked himself with your mouth. You shivered as you tasted the salty, slightly bitter fluid, feeling it coat your mouth as you struggled to swallow it all.

At last his balls relaxed, knot still engorged, slouching in his seat. A gasping, panting, grinning mess.

He flinched when you kissed his overly-sensitive cock "Sorry about that... I forgot my rut suppressants... Thought it wouldn't be this bad"

You kissed his cock again, then his nose "Tell you what, when we get to the hotel, you can return the favour"

This is going to be the best road trip

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As usual when I publish in the morning, this is yesterday's episode coming late, rather than today's coming early.

Tonight and tomorrow will be the second and third parts of the story, and I have a nice happy ending planned for our two lovebirds. Hope you all enjoy 😁

As normal, if you do have a request please feel free to drop me an ask about it and it'll go into the queue! You can request anything, but if you've read this far, you'll know the requests are often more of an inspiration than a hard-and-fast brief.

You get what you pay for, after all 🤣

[naamahdarling]

If it's not too sensitive to ask- how long did you get with your Pickle Man after the kidney diagnosis? I just got a year from the elderly boy I took over care of, who I didn't know only had one kidney functioning at all until the day of the end. Felt like it skipped the stage 4 completely. I suppose that was probably why it came so suddenly...

I am so sorry. It's very hard, the vet said, to catch kidney disease before Stage III, and often it's late into progression. So don't feel bad it wasn't caught. It can be sudden, and once the slide starts and they begin to decompensate, it can happen really fast.

DPM was diagnosed in September of 2017 and passed in August of 2024. So, 6 years and 11 months. He was 14.

He was an outlier. So much so a vet once frantically tabbed back to his date of initial diagnosis and exclaimed "HOW?!"

He was diagnosed at Stage III.

"Cats classified as stage three at diagnosis survived for an average of 1.86 years (679 days) but with some surviving up to 5.75 years." - Boyd, et al.

I feel absurd pride that he did better than the best cat in that study, which is considered an important one.

I shouldn't be proud. It wasn't up to us, all we did was feed him his special food, and fluids when he would hit a rough spot. He was just a tough little guy. He pulled through three plunges, and made it out every time and went on to be okay for another year, and another, until he just wore out.

I got every single day out of him that he had. Every single one. He slipped off on his own, unexpectedly, the night before we intended to have him put to sleep, as we both cuddled him. He had some amazingly gross treats, and was very happy. The breathing body we took to the emergency vet was not conscious, we just wanted to make it fast. Literally could not have asked for a better way for him to go.

It's been so hard. For those last year or two he was just glued to me. Once he figured out that I would NEVER turn him away, he was ON ME. A hairy limpet. It's a very physical loss. Like missing a limb would be, I think.

I don't know when it will stop hurting so much. I hope it's soon. This is tiring.