#the actual being in the office part is fine

[bratzkoo]

scheming heart | jeonghan

Author: bratzkoo Pairing:  CFO! Jeonghan x Cardiologist! reader Genre: fluff, chaos Rating: PG-13 Word count: 7.4k~ Warnings/note: second fic for the new series i'm working on, first fic is offside (seungcheol's chaos) and now, we have jeonghan's part of the chaotic world.

summary: Jeonghan has finally found his match in that stubborn cardiologist not knowing that everything was orchestrated by his scheming grandmother in Suite 520.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The VIP suite of Seoul National University Hospital looked like a five-star hotel room had aggressively swallowed a medical facility. Amidst the designer furniture and medical equipment that probably cost more than most people's houses, Granny Han was doing what any respectable 75-year-old chaebol matriarch would do at 7 AM – scheming on her secret iPhone while pretending to be asleep.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥 [Members: Rich_Granny_Han, Nurse_Anna, Boo_CEO, Won_NOT_involved]

Rich_Granny_Han: Operation starts today! New cardiologist incoming! Boo_CEO: OMG YES! Is she pretty? Smart? Ready to handle our dramatic boy? Rich_Granny_Han: Harvard graduate. Young. Scary. Boo_CEO: PERFECT FOR JEONGHAN 😍 Won_NOT_involved: I'm a senior nurse. I don't do matchmaking. Rich_Granny_Han: Sure, dear. BTW I saw you setting up that hidden camera 😘 Won_NOT_involved: ...that's for medical documentation. Nurse_Anna: Babe, we all know you're lying 😂 Won_NOT_involved: I'm turning off my phone. Rich_Granny_Han: No you're not 💅

The door opened, and Granny quickly shoved her phone under her designer hospital blanket (yes, she brought her own, the hospital ones were "peasant fabric").

"Good morning, Halmoni!" Anna breezed in, looking suspiciously cheerful for someone working hospital hours. "Ready for vitals?"

"Anna dear," Granny coughed delicately, a performance worthy of a Best Actress nomination. "Tell me about this new doctor."

"Dr. Y/N," Anna checked the blood pressure monitor while simultaneously texting the group chat behind her back – a skill developed specifically for this job. "Brilliant, scary when caffeine-deprived, and apparently made a chaebol's son cry during her fellowship."

"Perfect!" Granny's eyes gleamed. "Jeonghan needs someone who can handle him. That boy thinks being CFO means Chief Fashion Officer."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: ALERT! Target sighted in parking lot. Three cups of coffee. Dark circles. Optimal chaos conditions! Boo_CEO: On my way with premium bubble tea and emotional support! Won_NOT_involved: Don't you have a company to run? Boo_CEO: Bold of you to assume I do actual work Rich_Granny_Han: Everyone in position! Anna, increase heart monitor sensitivity! Won_NOT_involved: That's against protocol... Rich_Granny_Han: I'll add another zero to your Christmas bonus Won_NOT_involved: ...sensitivity increased.

Dr. Y/N strode down the hallway, white coat pristine despite the early hour. As the attending cardiologist, she'd already reviewed several cases since 6 AM. Her coffee consumption was legendary among the cardiology department – not because she was a fresh graduate (she wasn't), but because dealing with entitled family members required chemical assistance.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: Target acquired! Our cardiologist looks ready to destroy rich people today Boo_CEO: Jeonghan needs that energy in his life tbh Won_NOT_involved: Shouldn't you be checking on your other patients? Nurse_Anna: Babe, this IS patient care. Emotional patient care. Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, go check my IV drip Won_NOT_involved: It's perfectly fine... Rich_Granny_Han: That wasn't a suggestion 😊 Won_NOT_involved: ...checking IV drip now.

Y/N entered Suite 520 to find what looked like a carefully orchestrated scene: Granny Han propped up regally against designer pillows, Anna adjusting monitors with suspicious enthusiasm, and Wonwoo dutifully checking IV lines while pretending not to notice Anna's not-so-subtle winks.

"Good morning, Mrs. Han. I'm Dr. Y/N, your attending cardiologist."

"Please, call me Halmoni," Granny's voice was perfectly pitched between frail and commanding. "Everyone does. Even Wonwoo here, and he tries so hard to be professional."

Wonwoo, caught in the crossfire, focused intently on the IV drip.

The morning assessment went smoothly – suspiciously so. Y/N reviewed Granny's cardiac status while fielding questions that seemed oddly personal for a medical consultation: "Are you married, doctor?" "Do you like coffee? My grandson LOVES coffee." "What's your opinion on dramatic men in expensive suits?"

By 2 PM, all hell broke loose.

The suite's door flew open with theatrical force. Wonwoo, who had been checking Granny's vitals, nearly jumped out of his skin – though whether from the noise or Anna's excited squeal was unclear.

Enter Han Jeonghan, looking like he'd walked off a magazine cover. His Armani suit probably cost more than most nurses' monthly salary – a fact Wonwoo noted with an eye-roll so powerful it could have registered on the cardiac monitor.

"Who," Jeonghan demanded, brandishing his phone, "changed my grandmother's medication without consulting the family?"

Y/N, who had spent years dealing with entitled relatives, simply raised an eyebrow. "I did. Because I'm her doctor, and unlike WebMD, I actually went to medical school."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: OMGOMGOMG IT'S HAPPENING Boo_CEO: The TENSION! The DRAMA! Won_NOT_involved: I'm literally just trying to do my job here Rich_Granny_Han: Time for my award-winning performance! Won_NOT_involved: Please don't mess with the monitors again... Rich_Granny_Han: Too late! Nurse_Anna: Babe just enjoy the show Won_NOT_involved: I still have other patients Rich_Granny_Han: Shush, love is happening Won_NOT_involved: That's not how nursing works... Rich_Granny_Han: It is in Suite 520 😘

The cardiac monitor suddenly started beeping. Wonwoo shot Granny a look that clearly said "I know what you did," but professionally checked the readings anyway.

"Oh dear," Granny fluttered a hand over her heart. "All this tension... it's affecting my poor heart..."

Y/N and Jeonghan immediately stopped arguing, their professional and filial instincts kicking in respectively.

"Blood pressure's a bit elevated," Wonwoo reported dutifully, while Anna practically vibrated with excitement beside him.

"Maybe," Y/N suggested dryly, "certain people could be less dramatic during your recovery period."

"Maybe," Jeonghan countered, "certain doctors could be more communicative about medical decisions."

The monitor beeped again.

"Children, please," Granny's voice was weak but somehow carried perfect emotional manipulation. "Wonwoo, be a dear and get me some water? And Anna, I need my pills... the ones in the far cabinet..."

Both nurses recognized a dismissal when they heard one. As they left (Anna practically dragging Wonwoo), their phones buzzed:

Rich_Granny_Han: Mission proceeding perfectly! Phase 1 complete! Nurse_Anna: They're so cute when they're angry! Boo_CEO: OMW with premium drama fuel (coffee)! Won_NOT_involved: Can we please just have one normal patient? Rich_Granny_Han: No ❤️

Left alone with the feuding doctor and CFO, Granny settled in to watch the show. Her "concerned grandmother" facade barely concealing her glee.

"Since you're so invested in your grandmother's care," Y/N's voice dripped with professional sarcasm, "let me explain the medication changes in terms even a CFO can understand."

Jeonghan's perfectly maintained eyebrow twitched. "Please do. Use small words for us non-Harvard graduates."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: The sexual tension! I can't breathe! Nurse_Anna: Should I come back with the oxygen? Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, that was metaphorical Won_NOT_involved: Thank god, the paperwork for unnecessary oxygen... Boo_CEO: INCOMING with reinforcements! And bubble tea! Rich_Granny_Han: Perfect timing!

The suite's door burst open again, revealing Seungkwan balancing a tray of expensive bubble tea and wearing a suit that rivaled Jeonghan's.

"Halmoni!" he sang out, then dramatically gasped at the scene before him. "Oh my, am I interrupting something?"

"Perfect timing, Seungkwan-ah," Granny's voice somehow conveyed both frailty and mischief. "Stay and help me understand the doctor's explanation. My old heart would feel better with more family present."

Y/N watched as her simple medical consultation turned into what felt like a business presentation, complete with:

One overdressed CFO pretending to take notes while actually googling medical terms

His equally overdressed best friend providing dramatic gasps as punctuation

Two nurses who kept finding excuses to check the monitors

And a grandmother whose "heart symptoms" seemed suspiciously tied to whenever her grandson and doctor moved closer together

"So," Y/N concluded her explanation, "any questions about the medication changes?"

"Just one," Jeonghan smiled his business smile. "Where did you get your coffee? You seem to run on it as much as I do."

Before Y/N could respond, three things happened simultaneously:

The cardiac monitor beeped enthusiastically

Seungkwan choked on his bubble tea

Anna materialized with a coffee menu from the hospital's premium cafe

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: CODE COFFEE! I repeat, CODE COFFEE! Boo_CEO: Their first potential coffee date! I'm crying 😭 Won_NOT_involved: This isn't what medical codes are for... Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo, go get me a cardiac reading Won_NOT_involved: Your heart is fine Rich_Granny_Han: Not for my heart, for the drama Won_NOT_involved: sigh

"Oh, speaking of coffee," Granny perked up with suspicious energy for someone supposedly weak, "Jeonghan-ah, that fancy machine you brought me is too complicated. Maybe Dr. Y/N could help you figure it out?"

Y/N looked at the state-of-the-art espresso machine in the corner – probably worth more than her monthly salary. Jeonghan was already moving toward it with the confidence of a man who thought knowing how to make coffee was a personality trait.

"I only drink americanos," Y/N stated firmly.

"What a coincidence," Seungkwan stage-whispered, "that's Jeonghan's favorite too!"

The monitor beeped again.

"That's it," Y/N turned to Wonwoo, "please check the monitor's sensitivity."

"Oh, it's very sensitive," Wonwoo muttered, then quickly added at Granny's sharp look, "I'll... run some tests."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Progress report!

Coffee connection established ✓

Mutual annoyance at peak levels ✓

Jeonghan fixed his hair 3 times ✓

Doctor checked her reflection in the monitor ✓ 

Boo_CEO: THE EXCELLENCE OF THIS PLOT Nurse_Anna: Should I accidentally spill something so they have to move closer? Won_NOT_involved: NO Rich_Granny_Han: Save that for tomorrow dear Won_NOT_involved: Why am I even reading this chat... Nurse_Anna: Because you love me 😘 Won_NOT_involved: Accurate. Always will be accurate. Rich_Granny_Han: Simp

"Dr. Y/N," Granny called out sweetly, "your afternoon must be busy. Why don't you take some coffee with you? Jeonghan makes excellent americanos."

"I'm quite capable of getting my own coffee, thank you," Y/N replied professionally.

"Are you?" Jeonghan smirked, already starting the machine. "Because that hospital cafe americano you're holding looks tragic."

Y/N looked at her cup, then at his perfectly pressed suit, then at her patient charts. Pride warred with caffeine addiction.

Caffeine won.

"Fine. One coffee. Purely for professional courtesy."

"Of course," Jeonghan's smile was far too satisfied. "Professional courtesy."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: DAY ONE SUCCESS! Nurse_Anna: They're so cute I'm gonna cry Boo_CEO: Already planning the wedding Won_NOT_involved: It's literally just coffee Rich_Granny_Han: Oh sweet summer child Nurse_Anna: Babe, you're so innocent Won_NOT_involved: I hate this family Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't Won_NOT_involved: No, I don't, but I want it noted that I complained and I love Anna, I want it highlighted in the note that I love Anna. Nurse_Anna: I love you! Rich_Granny_Han: This is a Jeonghan fic.

As Y/N left with her admittedly perfect americano, Granny Han settled back against her pillows with a satisfied smile. Phase one was complete. Tomorrow, they'd begin Code: "Accidental Touch."

Poor Y/N and Jeonghan had no idea what they were in for.

- Y/N arrived at the hospital the next morning to find a paper cup from an expensive coffee shop sitting on her office desk. Next to it was a note in pretentiously perfect handwriting:

"Since your taste in coffee is as questionable as your medication choices. - JH"

She crumpled the note, then uncrumpled it, then took a sip of the coffee.

Damn. It was perfect.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: COFFEE SPOTTED! Code: Caffeine Love is go! Rich_Granny_Han: Did she drink it?? Nurse_Anna: She tried to look angry but I saw her save the note Boo_CEO: THE ROMANCE Won_NOT_involved: He's basically saying her medical decisions suck Rich_Granny_Han: That's flirting for rich boys, dear Won_NOT_involved: That's terrible Rich_Granny_Han: That's why he’s single

Suite 520 was suspiciously quiet when Y/N entered for morning rounds. Granny was reading what appeared to be a medical textbook – upside down. Anna was "organizing supplies" while obviously watching the door.

"Good morning, Dr. Y/N!" Granny brightened. "Oh my, is that coffee from Angel-in-us? Jeonghan loves that cafe—"

"Your ECG results, Mrs. Han," Y/N interrupted professionally.

The suite's door opened, and Jeonghan walked in wearing a different devastatingly expensive suit. He paused at seeing Y/N with his coffee cup.

"I see you've upgraded your taste," he smirked.

"The coffee's acceptable. Your medical opinions still aren't."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THEY'RE FLIRTING THROUGH COFFEE Nurse_Anna: The tension is ART Rich_Granny_Han: Time for some chest pain I think Won_NOT_involved: Please don't Rich_Granny_Han: Too late, clutching chest dramatically now Won_NOT_involved: That's not how heart problems work... Rich_Granny_Han: Watch and learn, child

"Oh!" Granny pressed a hand to her chest. "Such tension... my heart..."

Y/N and Jeonghan both stepped forward, accidentally bumping into each other. Anna dropped a tray with perfect timing.

"Mrs. Han," Y/N began.

"Halmoni," Granny corrected weakly. "You're practically family now that you're sharing coffee with Jeonghan."

Jeonghan choked. Y/N's professional mask cracked slightly.

Later that afternoon, Y/N was reviewing charts when her office door burst open. Jeonghan stood there, waving his phone.

"Your afternoon consult notes say Halmoni's tired," he accused.

"That's generally what 'fatigue' means in medical terms, yes."

"She's never tired. She once conducted a 12-hour board meeting from a yoga headstand."

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Han—"

"Jeonghan."

"Mr. Han," she emphasized, "normal people get tired. Even chaebol grandmothers."

"She's not normal people. She's—" He paused, noticing her empty coffee cup. "You finished the coffee."

"That's not medically relevant."

"I'll bring you another tomorrow."

"Are you trying to bribe your grandmother's doctor?"

"Is it working?"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: EMERGENCY! They're alone in her office!! Boo_CEO: WHERE ARE THE CAMERAS Rich_Granny_Han: Anna dear, perhaps Dr. Y/N needs some test results? Won_NOT_involved: We don't have any test results Rich_Granny_Han: Then make some Won_NOT_involved: That's literally fraud Rich_Granny_Han: That's literally romance Nurse_Anna: OMW with fake papers! Won_NOT_involved: That's fine, go do your thing babe!

The door flew open again, revealing Anna with a stack of papers. "Dr. Y/N! The results you needed!"

"I didn't order any—"

"Oh look," Anna squinted at the papers, "Mrs. Han's... everything... needs discussing. Right now. With family present."

Y/N looked at the "results". They were coffee-stained printouts of WebMD articles.

Evening rounds found Y/N entering Suite 520 to an unusual scene:

Granny "sleeping" while obviously filming on her phone

Seungkwan pretending to read a magazine (upside down)

Anna adjusting already-perfect monitors

Wonwoo looking like he wanted to transfer departments

And Jeonghan, attempting to understand her morning notes

"That's not how you read an ECG," she said from the doorway.

Jeonghan didn't look up. "I downloaded a medical app."

"WebMD doesn't count."

"This is a different medical app."

"Is it also WebMD in a trench coat?"

A laugh escaped before he could stop it. Y/N pretended not to notice how it transformed his face.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: HE LAUGHED! REAL LAUGH! NOT BUSINESS LAUGH! Boo_CEO: FIRST GENUINE LAUGH IN 84 YEARS Nurse_Anna: They're so cuuuuute Won_NOT_involved: He's still questioning her medical expertise Rich_Granny_Han: Yes but fondly now Nurse_Anna: Babe that's progress Won_NOT_involved: Your standards are concerning Rich_Granny_Han: Shush and help me plan tomorrow's heart episode

Granny "woke up" with perfect timing. "Doctor, since you're teaching Jeonghan medical terms, perhaps over coffee—"

"No," they said simultaneously.

"The heart wants what it wants," Granny sighed dramatically.

The monitor beeped.

"That's it," Y/N turned to Wonwoo, "please check the monitor's sensitivity again."

"It's working exactly as intended," he muttered, then added louder at Granny's look, "I mean, yes, doctor, right away."

As Y/N left for the night, she found another coffee cup on the nurses' station.

The note read: "For your overnight studies on how to be less scary to your patients. - JH"

She definitely didn't smile. And if she did, no one could prove it.

Except maybe the CCTV footage Wonwoo was pretending not to save for Anna’s enjoyment.

- Late that night, Y/N was finishing her paperwork when she decided to check on Granny one last time. It definitely had nothing to do with the possibility of running into a certain annoying CFO.

She found Suite 520's lights dimmed, but not dark. Jeonghan was there, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, squinting at a medical textbook like it had personally offended him.

"That's upside down," she said from the doorway.

He didn't even flinch. "I'm teaching myself to read medical terms in all directions. Very professional."

"Is that what CFOs do in their spare time?"

"Only the dashingly handsome ones."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: NIGHT SHIFT ALERT! They're alone! Boo_CEO: At this hour??? SCANDALOUS Rich_Granny_Han: pretending to sleep but recording everything Won_NOT_involved: Isn't anyone concerned about patient privacy? Rich_Granny_Han: Privacy is for people who aren't trying to get grandchildren Nurse_Anna: LMAO GRANNY Won_NOT_involved: I'm reporting this chat to HR Rich_Granny_Han: I own HR, dear. Keep up!

"Your grandmother's readings are stable," Y/N said professionally, checking the monitors. "Though someone keeps adjusting the sensitivity."

"Shocking," Jeonghan deadpanned, watching her work. "Almost as shocking as you being here at," he checked his Cartier watch, "11 PM?"

"I'm dedicated to my patients."

"Just my grandmother, or do you check on everyone this late?"

"Are you implying something, Mr. Han?"

"Jeonghan," he corrected. "And I'm implying you might be as obsessed with my grandmother as I am. It's okay, she has that effect on people."

From the bed, Granny let out a very fake snore.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: The snore was too much wasn't it Boo_CEO: Oscar worthy, Halmoni! Nurse_Anna: Should I create an emergency? Won_NOT_involved: NO Rich_Granny_Han: Save the emergencies for tomorrow Won_NOT_involved: Why are all of you like this? Nurse_Anna: Because we're invested in love Won_NOT_involved: We're invested in medical care Rich_Granny_Han: Why not both?

Y/N was about to leave when Jeonghan spoke again. "I ordered every cardiology textbook available."

"I noticed. The coffee table looks like a medical library exploded."

"I'm trying to understand." He sounded almost sincere. "She's all I have left."

Y/N paused at the door. "Your grandmother is in good hands, Mr. Han."

"Jeonghan."

"Mr. Han."

He smiled. A real one, not his business smile. "You're going to slip up and call me Jeonghan eventually."

"Unlikely."

"Want to bet? Loser buys coffee."

"That would be unprofessional."

"Is that a no?"

Y/N left without answering, but they both knew she was smiling.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: They're FLIRTING Boo_CEO: Through MEDICAL TERMS Nurse_Anna: I'M SCREAMING Won_NOT_involved: This is a hospital, please don't scream Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, did you get all that on camera? Won_NOT_involved: ...maybe Nurse_Anna: BABE YOU'RE FINALLY HELPING Won_NOT_involved: It's for medical documention. Rich_Granny_Han: Sure it is, dear. Sure it is. Won_NOT_involved: fine, it’s for Anna. Rich_Granny_Han: BLESSED

The next morning, Y/N found not one but two coffee cups on her desk.

First note: "For accepting that 'Mr. Han' will eventually become 'Jeonghan' - JH"

Second note: "For when you inevitably throw the first one at my head - JH"

She was not charmed. She absolutely was not.

But she kept both notes.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: SHE KEPT THE NOTES Boo_CEO: Not just kept - she SMILED Rich_Granny_Han: Time to escalate. Anna dear, remember that 'emergency' we planned? Won_NOT_involved: Oh no Rich_Granny_Han: Oh YES Boo_CEO: WHAT EMERGENCY?? Won_NOT_involved: I don't want to know Rich_Granny_Han: Trust me, this will be fun Won_NOT_involved: Your definition of fun concerns me Nurse_Anna: Babe just embrace the chaos Won_NOT_involved: I miss my old department Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't. Now, about tomorrow's plan… -

3 AM at Seoul National University Hospital was typically quiet. Tonight, however...

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Places everyone! Code: Emergency Romance begins! Boo_CEO: At 3AM?? You're evil, Halmoni Rich_Granny_Han: Evil? No. Strategic? Yes. Nurse_Anna: Night shift ready! Won_NOT_involved: This is highly unethical Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, just make sure the lights are dimmed romantically Won_NOT_involved: That's not a medical setting Rich_Granny_Han: It is in Suite 520

The cardiac monitor in Suite 520 suddenly went off – louder than strictly necessary. Wonwoo, who was genuinely checking vitals, jumped.

"Halmoni, what did you—"

"Call Dr. Y/N," Granny commanded, looking far too alert for 3 AM. "And someone call my grandson."

"Your readings are actually fine—"

"Wonwoo." Granny's sweet smile held steel. "Make. The. Calls."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: Y/N's on her way! Night shift said she was doing paperwork anyway Boo_CEO: At 3AM?? She needs a life Rich_Granny_Han: She needs my grandson Won_NOT_involved: She needs sleep, actually Rich_Granny_Han: Details, details

Y/N arrived first, looking surprisingly put-together for the ungodly hour. Her white coat was pristine, but the six empty coffee cups on her desk told their own story.

"Mrs. Han, what's—"

"HALMONI!"

Jeonghan burst in, designer pajamas under a hastily thrown-on coat, hair actually messy for once.

"You called him too?" Y/N raised an eyebrow at the nurses.

"Hospital protocol," Anna said solemnly. Wonwoo suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: HIS HAIR IS MESSY THIS IS NOT A DRILL Nurse_Anna: Y/N definitely noticed 👀 Rich_Granny_Han: Time for my performance~ Won_NOT_involved: Please don't Rich_Granny_Han: Too late!

"Oh, my heart," Granny clutched her chest dramatically. "Such worry in young faces..."

"Your readings are actually—" Wonwoo started.

"SUCH WORRY," Granny repeated louder. "Perhaps if you both stayed..."

Y/N was already checking the monitors. Jeonghan hovered nearby, close enough that she could smell his ridiculously expensive cologne.

"Your grandmother is fine, Mr. Han."

"Jeonghan."

"Your grandmother is fine, Mr. Han."

"You're doing this on purpose now."

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Han."

His laugh was soft, unguarded. Different from his business laugh.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: THE SOFT LAUGH!! AT 3AM!! Boo_CEO: THEY'RE STANDING SO CLOSE Rich_Granny_Han: Anna dear, dim the lights more Won_NOT_involved: That's not safe Rich_Granny_Han: Love isn't safe Won_NOT_involved: That's not medical protocol Rich_Granny_Han: Suite 520 has its own protocols

"Doctor," Granny's voice was weak but her eyes sparkled. "Since you're both here, perhaps some coffee?"

"At 3 AM?" Y/N asked.

"I brought my own beans," Jeonghan offered, then caught himself. "I mean, I happen to have some in my car."

"You just happen to have premium coffee beans in your car at 3 AM?"

"A good CFO is always prepared."

"For middle-of-the-night coffee emergencies?"

"Especially those."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: HE KEEPS COFFEE FOR HER IN HIS CAR Nurse_Anna: I'M CRYING THIS IS SO CUTE Rich_Granny_Han: Phase 1 success. Anna, initiate phase 2 Won_NOT_involved: There are phases?? Rich_Granny_Han: Of course dear, this is a military operation Nurse_Anna: On it! accidentally spilling water now Won_NOT_involved: Why did I fall in love with a conspirator

"Oh!" Anna's theatrical gasp preceded the sound of water splashing.

Y/N and Jeonghan jumped apart – when had they gotten so close? – only to bump into each other again.

"Sorry, let me—" Jeonghan reached for napkins.

"No, I can—" Y/N moved at the same time.

Their hands touched. Both froze.

Granny's monitor beeped suspiciously fast.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: THE HAND TOUCH!!! Boo_CEO: THIS IS BETTER THAN DRAMAS Nurse_Anna: Should I spill more water?? Won_NOT_involved: NO Rich_Granny_Han: Save it for next time Won_NOT_involved: There's a next time?? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, we're just getting started

"Well," Y/N cleared her throat professionally. "Since your grandmother is stable, I should—"

"Stay for coffee," Jeonghan said quickly. "I mean, since we're both awake anyway."

"That would be unprofessional."

"Everything about this situation is unprofessional."

Y/N glanced at Granny (pretending to sleep), Anna (badly hiding her phone), and Wonwoo (looking like he wanted witness protection).

"One coffee," she conceded. "For medical alertness purposes."

"Of course," Jeonghan's smile was too knowing. "Purely medical."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: COFFEE DATE AT 3AM Nurse_Anna: Romance is ALIVE Rich_Granny_Han: Mission accomplished! Won_NOT_involved: It's just coffee Rich_Granny_Han: Oh sweet summer child Nurse_Anna: Babe you're so innocent Won_NOT_involved: I want a department transfer Rich_Granny_Han: Denied. Now help me plan tomorrow Won_NOT_involved: ...what's tomorrow? Rich_Granny_Han: You'll see 😈

As Y/N and Jeonghan sat in the suite's sitting area, sharing premium coffee at 3 AM while pretending this was normal, Granny Han smiled in her "sleep."

Phase one of Operation Emergency Romance was complete.

Poor kids had no idea what she had planned for breakfast.

- Several hours and many coffees later, sunrise found the suite in a different state:

Y/N curled up in an armchair, white coat slightly rumpled

Jeonghan asleep on the couch, designer pajamas and all

Files spread between them from their "purely professional discussion"

Two empty coffee cups with a concerning number of espresso shots

Granny, definitely not sleeping, taking photos for her secret Instagram

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: THEY FELL ASLEEP IN MY SUITE Boo_CEO: TOGETHER????? Nurse_Anna: Not together together but STILL Won_NOT_involved: This violates at least 5 hospital policies Rich_Granny_Han: Love violates all policies Nurse_Anna: Time for noisy morning check-up? 😈 Rich_Granny_Han: Make it EXTRA noisy

Anna burst into the suite with maximum chaos energy, deliberately dropping a metal tray.

The effect was immediate:

Y/N jolted awake, doctor mode activating

Jeonghan fell off the couch, rich person grace temporarily absent

Granny quickly pretended to just wake up

Wonwoo, entering behind Anna, looked like he wanted to quit

"Good morning!" Anna sang, far too cheerfully. "Time for morning vitals!"

Y/N and Jeonghan stared at each other, then at their wrinkled clothes, then at the evidence of their all-night coffee session.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THE MORNING AFTER CHAOS Nurse_Anna: Y/N's hair is messy I repeat MESSY Rich_Granny_Han: Quick! Someone get a breakfast cart! Won_NOT_involved: The hospital doesn't do breakfast carts Rich_Granny_Han: The VIP floor does now Won_NOT_involved: Since when?? Rich_Granny_Han: Since I ordered it 5 minutes ago Boo_CEO: ALREADY ON IT WITH PREMIUM BREAKFAST

"I should..." Y/N stood, attempting to smooth her coat.

"Yeah, I need to..." Jeonghan ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Oh, but breakfast is coming!" Granny perked up. "You both must be hungry after staying up all night... discussing medical things."

The way she said "medical things" made both of them blush.

Right on cue, Seungkwan waltzed in pushing a cart laden with what looked like a five-star hotel breakfast spread.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: Breakfast service has arrived~ Nurse_Anna: They're both so awkward I'M LIVING Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, check my heart. Make it take a while Won_NOT_involved: That's not how check-ups work Rich_Granny_Han: It is if you want that Christmas bonus Won_NOT_involved: ...this might take a while, doctor

"Since Wonwoo needs to do a thorough check-up," Granny smiled innocently, "why don't you both have breakfast? No need to waste good food."

Y/N looked at her wrinkled coat, her empty coffee cups, and her clearly compromised professional boundaries.

Jeonghan looked at his messy hair, his designer pajamas, and his equally compromised chaebol dignity.

"One coffee," they said simultaneously.

"And maybe some toast," Y/N added.

"And those croissants," Jeonghan pointed.

"Purely for energy."

"Completely professional."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: They're having breakfast together! Boo_CEO: In their sleepwear basically!! Nurse_Anna: ROMANCE LEVEL 1000 Won_NOT_involved: This is still a hospital Rich_Granny_Han: No, this is Suite 520, different rules apply Won_NOT_involved: That's not how hospitals work Rich_Granny_Han: Watch and learn, child

As they awkwardly settled with their breakfast, maintaining a careful distance that fooled absolutely no one, Granny spoke up.

"You know, Jeonghan-ah, Dr. Y/N's americano is getting cold."

Jeonghan immediately reached for the coffee machine.

"And doctor, Jeonghan skipped dinner last night. He should eat more than croissants."

Y/N found herself pushing the egg dishes closer to him.

They caught each other's eyes, realized they were being played, and quickly looked away.

But not before small smiles appeared.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: THE SOFT SMILES Boo_CEO: While sharing breakfast!! Rich_Granny_Han: Young love is so beautiful Won_NOT_involved: It's been like 3 days Rich_Granny_Han: Time moves faster in Suite 520 Nurse_Anna: It's the power of love Won_NOT_involved: It's the power of sleep deprivation Rich_Granny_Han: Same thing dear, same thing

The peaceful breakfast was interrupted by Y/N's pager.

"I need to..." she stood quickly.

"Right, I should..." Jeonghan also rose.

They did an awkward dance trying to avoid bumping into each other, failed miserably, and ended up closer than ever.

"Thanks for the medical discussion," Y/N said professionally.

"Thanks for the coffee company," Jeonghan replied, equally formal.

Neither moved.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Anna! Emergency cart in the hallway! Nurse_Anna: On it! Won_NOT_involved: Please don't crash any carts Rich_Granny_Han: Just a small crash Won_NOT_involved: That's still property damage Rich_Granny_Han: That's still romance

The sudden crash from the hallway made them jump apart. Y/N hurried out, professionalism back in place.

Jeonghan watched her go, then turned to find everyone staring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Granny smiled innocently. "You just look happy this morning."

"It was the coffee."

"Sure it was, dear. Sure it was."

As Jeonghan left to change, Granny turned to her squad:

"Phase 2 complete. Now, about that charity gala next week..."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Meeting in 10 minutes. We have a gala to plan Boo_CEO: Will there be drama?? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, there will be CHAOS Won_NOT_involved: Why do I feel scared Nurse_Anna: Because you should be 😘 Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, you haven't seen anything yet Won_NOT_involved: ...can I transfer departments now? Rich_Granny_Han: Denied. Now, about those formal invitations...

- Y/N stared at her desk in growing concern. Over the past week, a pattern had emerged:

Monday's coffee: "For admitting medical school doesn't teach everything - JH" Tuesday's coffee: "For finally calling me Jeonghan (in your sleep) - JH" Wednesday's coffee: "For pretending you don't smile at my notes - JH" Thursday's coffee: "Because your coffee machine is beneath you - JH" Today's coffee: "Because it's becoming a habit - JH"

She definitely didn't keep all the notes. And she absolutely wasn't smiling.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: WEEK RECAP:

Daily coffee delivery ✓

She keeps all notes ✓

Stopped throwing them away ✓

Actually smiles now ✓ 

Boo_CEO: CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT Rich_Granny_Han: Time to escalate Won_NOT_involved: What's left to escalate?? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, we're just getting started Won_NOT_involved: That's what I'm afraid of

Suite 520 had evolved over the week. Somehow, it now contained:

A premium coffee station (restocked daily)

Medical textbooks (some actually right-side up)

Two comfortable chairs (suspiciously close together)

Granny's "essential" medical monitoring equipment (mostly for show)

Anna's "work station" (definitely for spying)

Y/N entered for morning rounds to find Jeonghan already there, suit perfect despite the early hour.

"You're here early, Mr. Han."

"We're back to Mr. Han? After I brought you coffee all week?"

"Medical ethics don't run on caffeine, Mr. Han."

"Are you sure? Because your smile says otherwise, Doctor."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: The TENSION Boo_CEO: He emphasized 'Doctor' I'M SCREAMING Nurse_Anna: Should I interrupt with vitals?? Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, let them flirt Won_NOT_involved: This is a hospital Rich_Granny_Han: This is Suite 520 Won_NOT_involved: That's not a real distinction Rich_Granny_Han: Tell that to my platinum card

"Children," Granny called out, "if you're done with your coffee courtship—"

"Medical discussion," Y/N corrected quickly.

"Professional interaction," Jeonghan said simultaneously.

"—perhaps we could discuss my discharge?"

Both turned to her so fast they got whiplash.

"Discharge?" Y/N frowned.

"Halmoni, no," Jeonghan started.

"Well," Granny smiled innocently, "unless you think I need more... observation?"

The way she said 'observation' made it clear she wasn't talking about medical monitoring.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THE POWER MOVE Nurse_Anna: Halmoni playing 4D chess!! Rich_Granny_Han: Watch and learn children Won_NOT_involved: This is manipulation Rich_Granny_Han: This is ROMANCE Won_NOT_involved: Same thing in this family Rich_Granny_Han: Now you're getting it!

"Your latest tests..." Y/N began professionally.

"Show you need more monitoring," Jeonghan finished.

They stared at each other, surprised by the agreement.

"Oh?" Granny's eyes twinkled. "Both of you think so?"

"Medically speaking," Y/N clarified.

"From a family perspective," Jeonghan added.

"And it has nothing to do with morning coffee?"

"Halmoni!" they protested simultaneously.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: They're in sync!! Boo_CEO: SOULMATES BEHAVIOR Nurse_Anna: Even their denial is synchronized! Won_NOT_involved: This is getting out of hand Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, this is getting interesting Won_NOT_involved: Those aren't mutually exclusive Rich_Granny_Han: Shush and help me plan the gala seating

The tension was broken by Seungkwan bursting in, designer suit somehow even more expensive than Jeonghan's.

"Emergency!" he announced dramatically.

"Medical?" Y/N reached for her pager.

"Fashion!" Seungkwan held up a tablet. "Halmoni, the hospital charity gala needs your approval on—oh, am I interrupting something?"

His innocent tone fooled exactly no one.

"The charity gala?" Y/N blinked.

"Oh yes," Granny perked up. "Doctor, you'll be attending of course? As my physician?"

"I don't usually—"

"And Jeonghan needs a plus-one—"

"Halmoni!"

"—for medical supervision, of course."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: PHASE GALA: INITIATED Boo_CEO: I already called the designers! Nurse_Anna: Need volunteers for the medical team?? Won_NOT_involved: We're not all going Rich_Granny_Han: Check your email dear Won_NOT_involved: ...we're all going Nurse_Anna: YAY BABE! We can coordinate! Won_NOT_involved: I want a new job Rich_Granny_Han: Denied. Now about those table arrangements...

"I couldn't possibly—" Y/N started.

"It would be unprofessional—" Jeonghan began.

"Perfect!" Granny clapped. "Seungkwan, mark them down as attending."

"Already done, Halmoni!"

"I didn't agree—" Y/N protested.

"My heart would feel so much better knowing my doctor is there," Granny clutched her chest dramatically.

The monitor, naturally, beeped.

"This is manipulation," Jeonghan noted.

"Learned from the best, dear."

Y/N looked at her patient (scheming), her monitor (suspicious), and her growing headache (definitely real).

"One hour," she conceded. "For medical supervision only."

"Of course," Granny smiled sweetly. "Seungkwan, call the designers. The doctor needs a gown."

"Already on it!"

"Wait, what—"

But Seungkwan was already speed-dialing, Granny was looking triumphant, and Jeonghan...

Jeonghan was looking at her like he wouldn't mind being supervised. Medically speaking, of course.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Operation Gala: Phase 1 complete Boo_CEO: Designers on standby! Nurse_Anna: Medical team assembled! Won_NOT_involved: This is excessive Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, this is just the beginning Won_NOT_involved: That's what I'm afraid of Rich_Granny_Han: Don't worry, it gets worse Won_NOT_involved: How is that reassuring?? Rich_Granny_Han: It's not. Now, about those dance lessons...

Suite 520 had transformed into Gala Planning Headquarters. Somehow, between cardiac monitoring equipment and medical charts, there were now:

Three tablets showing designer collections

Fabric swatches spread across medical equipment

Seating charts mixed with ECG readings

Event planners trying to look like medical consultants

And Granny, orchestrating chaos from her hospital bed

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Status report!

Venue: Hospital Grand Hall

Theme: "Hearts of Gold" (get it? 😉)

Seating: Y/N next to Jeonghan (medical purposes)

Dance floor: Strategically lit 

Boo_CEO: The THEME I'M DYING Nurse_Anna: Should we coordinate the medical team's outfits?? Won_NOT_involved: We're supposed to be working Rich_Granny_Han: This IS work. Love work.

Y/N entered for afternoon rounds to find what looked like a fashion magazine explosion.

"Mrs. Han, this isn't good for your recovery—"

"Nonsense," Granny waved a fabric swatch. "Doctor, which shade of blue brings out Jeonghan's eyes?"

"I... what?"

"For medical coordination purposes, of course."

From behind his laptop, Jeonghan choked on his coffee.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: SHE'S BLUSHING Nurse_Anna: AND HE'S CHOKING Rich_Granny_Han: Young love is so clumsy Won_NOT_involved: This is a medical facility Rich_Granny_Han: This is a love facility Won_NOT_involved: That's not a thing Rich_Granny_Han: It is in Suite 520

"Halmoni," Jeonghan tried, "perhaps the doctor doesn't want to—"

"Navy," Y/N said suddenly, then looked mortified.

"What?"

"Navy blue. For medical... contrast purposes."

Jeonghan's slow smile should be illegal in a hospital setting.

"Noted," Granny's eyes sparkled. "Seungkwan! Call the designer!"

"Already texting!"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: SHE PICKED HIS COLOR Boo_CEO: VOLUNTARILY Nurse_Anna: THE DEVELOPMENT Won_NOT_involved: It's just a color Rich_Granny_Han: Oh sweet summer child Nurse_Anna: Babe you're so innocent Won_NOT_involved: I miss regular patients Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't. Now about the dance playlist...

Later that day, Y/N returned to find Jeonghan arguing with event planners while wearing... navy blue.

"It's for a medical opinion," he said quickly.

"I didn't ask."

"You're wondering."

"I'm wondering about your grandmother's blood pressure with all this excitement."

"Liar. You're wondering how accurate your color assessment was."

She checked Granny's monitors instead of answering. Or looking at how right she'd been about the navy blue.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: HE CHANGED SUITS FOR HER Boo_CEO: THE DEDICATION Nurse_Anna: She kept stealing glances!! Won_NOT_involved: I saw nothing Rich_Granny_Han: The security cameras saw everything Won_NOT_involved: ...I may have footage Nurse_Anna: BABE YOU'RE ONE OF US NOW Won_NOT_involved: I hate everything except you Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't. Now help me plan the "medical emergency" during the slow dance

"Doctor," Granny called out sweetly, "about the gala's medical supervision..."

"One hour," Y/N reminded firmly.

"Of course. Jeonghan will pick you up at 7."

"That's not necessary—"

"For medical transport," Granny added innocently.

"I can drive—"

"My heart would feel better knowing you arrive safely."

The monitor beeped right on cue.

"Halmoni," Jeonghan sighed, but he was smiling.

"Fine," Y/N conceded. "For medical purposes."

"Of course," Granny beamed. "Seungkwan! Call the car service!"

"Already done!"

"How are you already—never mind."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Car arrangements: Complete ✓

Premium vehicle

Mood lighting

"Accidental" traffic delays 

Boo_CEO: EVIL GENIUS HALMONI Nurse_Anna: The POWER Won_NOT_involved: This is getting elaborate Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, wait for the gala Won_NOT_involved: I'm scared Rich_Granny_Han: You should be. Anna dear, about those dance floor spotlights...

As Y/N left for her rounds, she found a new coffee on the nurses' station.

The note read: "Navy blue does bring out my eyes. Good medical observation. - JH"

She didn't smile.

(The security footage Wonwoo definitely wasn't collecting said otherwise.)

- Two months after Code: Heart Doctor began, Suite 520 was in organized chaos:

Discharge papers waiting for signatures

Gift baskets from the entire hospital staff

Granny's designer luggage (more than a small hotel's worth)

The infamous coffee machine

And a certain cardiologist avoiding a certain CFO

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: FINAL MISSION STATUS:

Two months of schemes ✓

One charity gala success ✓

Multiple "emergencies" ✓

Countless coffee dates ✓

One almost kiss ✓

BUT STILL NO CONFESSION 

Boo_CEO: HOW ARE THEY SO STUBBORN Nurse_Anna: Even the cafeteria's betting pool is frustrated Won_NOT_involved: Maybe let them figure it out naturally? Rich_Granny_Han: Absolutely not Won_NOT_involved: Why did I even suggest that Rich_Granny_Han: Time for the final play

Y/N stood at the nurses' station, pretending to review charts while actually hiding. The past two months had been... complicated.

After the gala (which definitely didn't end with an almost-kiss during Granny's conveniently timed "emergency"), things had gotten awkward.

Sweet, terrible, coffee-filled awkward.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: She's HIDING Boo_CEO: Our confident doctor? HIDING? Rich_Granny_Han: Love makes fools of us all Won_NOT_involved: Or maybe this whole scheme was too much Rich_Granny_Han: No such thing Won_NOT_involved: Why did I marry into this chaos Nurse_Anna: Because you love me 😘 Won_NOT_involved: TRUE. TRUEST FORM. Rich_Granny_Han: We get it, you love Anna

The suite's door opened, revealing Jeonghan in what had to be his most expensive suit yet. Navy blue, because of course it was.

"Doctor."

"Mr. Han."

"We're back to that?"

"We never left it."

(They both knew that was a lie. Somewhere between late-night coffee and fake emergencies, "Jeonghan" had slipped out more than once.)

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: IMPLEMENT FINAL PHASE Boo_CEO: But what about the backup plan?? Rich_Granny_Han: This IS the backup plan Nurse_Anna: What about backup backup?? Rich_Granny_Han: Trust your commander Won_NOT_involved: Should I be concerned? Rich_Granny_Han: Always, dear. Always.

"Children," Granny called from her bed, "come here please."

They approached cautiously. Two months had taught them to fear that innocent tone.

"Since I'm being discharged—"

"About that," Y/N started.

"Your readings—" Jeonghan began.

"Oh hush," Granny waved them off. "We all know I'm fine. Have been for weeks."

They stared at her.

"You..." Y/N processed this. "You've been faking?"

"Not faking, dear. Strategizing."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THE CONFESSION Nurse_Anna: Finally exposing the plot!! Won_NOT_involved: This feels illegal somehow Rich_Granny_Han: Love knows no laws Won_NOT_involved: That's not how legality works Rich_Granny_Han: That's how Suite 520 works

"All those emergencies..." Jeonghan realized.

"The 3 AM calls..." Y/N added.

"The coffee accidents..."

"The gala emergency..."

"The almost—" they both stopped, blushing.

"Yes, yes," Granny smiled. "All part of the plan. Operation Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024."

"The WHAT."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Dropping the bomb! Boo_CEO: THE CHAOS Nurse_Anna: Should we run?? Won_NOT_involved: I'm already in the cafeteria Rich_Granny_Han: Cowards. Watch the master work

"Halmoni," Jeonghan looked pained. "You've been scheming this whole time?"

"Of course, dear. You think cardiac monitors just happen to beep during romantic moments?"

"The coffee spills..." Y/N remembered.

"Anna has excellent timing."

"The gala emergency..."

"Seungkwan's dramatic skills are underappreciated."

"The security footage..."

"Wonwoo pretends to resist, but he's got quite the collection."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THEY'RE BOTH SO RED Nurse_Anna: The realization!! Won_NOT_involved: Should we call security? Rich_Granny_Han: For what? True love? Won_NOT_involved: For imminent chaos Rich_Granny_Han: That's just how romance works dear

"So everything was fake?" Y/N asked quietly.

"Not everything," Jeonghan said quickly.

They looked at each other.

"The coffee wasn't fake," he continued.

"The medical discussions weren't fake."

"The almost-kiss wasn't fake."

"The feelings weren't fake."

Granny beamed. "Finally!"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: MISSION SUCCESS Boo_CEO: I'M CRYING Nurse_Anna: WE DID IT Won_NOT_involved: Can we work normally now? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey no Rich_Granny_Han: Now we plan the wedding Won_NOT_involved: ...I want a transfer Rich_Granny_Han: Denied.

"You're ridiculous," Y/N told Jeonghan, but she was smiling.

"You love it," he replied, then froze. "I mean—"

"Yeah," she said softly. "I do."

"Oh thank god," Granny exclaimed. "Seungkwan! The champagne!"

"Already chilled!"

"Anna! The celebration decorations!"

"Ready to deploy!"

"Wonwoo! The documentation!"

"...fine."

As Suite 520 erupted into celebration, Y/N looked at Jeonghan.

"Your grandmother is terrifying."

"Wait till you see her wedding planning mode."

"Let's survive the first date first."

"Coffee tomorrow?"

"You've been bringing me coffee for two months."

"Yes, but now I can kiss you after."

From her bed, Granny smiled at her success. As Y/N and Jeonghan shared their first real kiss (finally!), the cardiac monitor beeped one last time.

This time, it was real.

Real love tends to do that to a heart. As Y/N and Jeonghan finally broke apart, the cardiac monitor beeped one last time.

"Your grandmother's monitor is still sensitive," Y/N murmured.

"Actually," Jeonghan smiled, "I think that one was real."

They turned to find Granny beaming at them, not even pretending to sleep anymore.

"Finally!" she exclaimed. "Do you know how exhausting it was to orchestrate all this?"

"Halmoni..."

"The timing of the beeps! The strategic coffee spills! Keeping Wonwoo from reporting us to hospital administration!"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Mission accomplished, everyone! Boo_CEO: The greatest success story of 2024!! Nurse_Anna: I'm crying happy tears in the supply closet Won_NOT_involved: Can we work normally now? Rich_Granny_Han: Of course dear Won_NOT_involved: Really? Rich_Granny_Han: No 😘 Nurse_Anna: Babe you should know better Won_NOT_involved: I really should

"Well," Y/N picked up the discharge papers, trying to look professional despite her smile. "Since your condition has... miraculously improved, Mrs. Han—"

"Still Halmoni," Granny corrected.

"Halmoni," Y/N conceded, her smile growing. "You're free to go home."

"Wonderful! Jeonghan-ah, help me pack. Doctor, you'll join us for dinner to discuss my home care, won't you?"

"That would be—"

"If you say unprofessional, I'm canceling the discharge," Granny threatened sweetly.

Y/N looked at Jeonghan, who shrugged helplessly but couldn't stop smiling.

"Dinner would be lovely," she agreed.

As the suite erupted into celebration, with Seungkwan popping in with champagne and Anna wiping tears while pretending to check vitals one last time, Y/N felt Jeonghan's hand slip into hers.

"Coffee tomorrow?" he asked softly.

"You've been bringing me coffee for two months."

"Yes, but now I can kiss you after."

She squeezed his hand. "Looking forward to it."

From her bed, Granny Han watched her grandson and his cardiologist, her heart monitor beeping steadily with genuine joy. Sometimes, she thought, love just needs a little push.

Or in her case, two months of elaborate schemes, a charity gala, multiple fake emergencies, one almost-kiss, and an army of co-conspirators.

But who's counting?

[jakeperalta]

I have to go into the office tomorrow

[sysig]

Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)

[the-casbah-way]

my colleague will walk in after his lunch break with his sunglasses on cradling fifty cups of organic homemade soup and smiling like he’s just won the lottery purely because it’s friday or it happens to be sunny outside and he’ll be like “HOW’S IT GOING MATE 😁✌️” and i’ll be hunched over my stupid stinky little desk clutching at the wood as the urge to chain smoke the entire packet of cigarette’s that’s burning a hole in my desk drawer consumes me and be like “haha not bad yeah” but really i want to say it’s so fucking over michael it’s the end is this really all there is is this just it forever don’t you get bored of the same soup every single day i bet you don’t even check the menu to see what kind it is before you order it anymore because your sad sack brain is stuck on corporate autopilot and forcing you to power through the day on nothing but empty small talk and cheap tasteless soup and a million water cooler conversations or client calls that no one really needed you to handle and if you stop long enough to let yourself think or breathe you might actually start feeling something and as soon as that happens it really will be over michael so let’s just talk about the weather or something and pretend that this office isn’t a total dreamless cesspit just because we can see the sunshine from the windows

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

brain bad but im listening to the narzissenkreuz questline ost and. man i want to play the quests again and i WOULD but i have such a hard time reading non-voiced world quests which SUCKS bc this quest series like. the fucking best and i would argue better than some of the archon quests

[unproduciblesmackdown]

already was musing on how like, here's an intro that's Establishing Things, and it's like, does it matter that we were given a quants interaction of winston being like "hey you were nice to me there, actually. it reminds me of how" only for rian to pull the nice maneuvers of not wanting to listen to him share anything, being willing to just issue an order to someone about what he gets to do (talk for ten seconds) and doing so, then some underwhelming flair used to insult him surely, i guess that he's so stupid(tm) or whatever. like, wondering does that mean anything really that that was just about rian being an asshole, as has been sprinkled in before, just little moments that deadend with winston just feeling Disheartened b/c rian was shitty for no reason. does it mean anything that she did anything for the quant duo before that in refusing a chance to not sit next to him. theoretically just a [we're still tmc] kind of choice to stick together, and sure didn't move her to even treat him like a person she dislikes, just a nonperson she also dislikes

and relatedly it's going to be just as hilarious as rian, what, implying winston hasn't heard / of the french language, that the theory that rian and dollar bill become some kind of duo based on being Hilarious(tm) but also just terrible to any & everyone and bullying people has only more plausible, And that this episode of billions' introduction / establishment of dollar bill is decidedly centered around "yeah nobody likes this guy or can stand to deal with him. not even the people paid to be there, not even the self-declared Too Nice guy who kept choosing hanging out with dollar bill & his bullying over working & hanging out with his friend taylor" so it sure doesn't seem like that's leaving much room for [oh that was an oversight] if dollar bills going to fuck off into mpc hq on the regular and rian's immediately going to be like of course i can roll with this fuckin asshole

and truly a distillation of "rian's supposedly gets the 'good' treatment of More Material & being taken more seriously by other characters, but this only meant that instead of any sense of character &/or her own actual subplots ever, she's whatever a different more prominent character needs for their plot at any given time; winston's peripheral funny little guy unimportance & insulting treatment is still so much better re: being a character" if winston gets the worst treatment of being shoved out of mpc by episode three and rian is graced with hanging around most or all season only to be judged & condemned to now have that loss of [quant duo] replaced with being insufferable bullying horrible person dollar bill's New Friend and like, right away, with ease. and like i was saying like i would not argue with that, if rian had the consistent principle of treating anyone with basic respect she wouldn't be treating winston as a nonperson, and of course she has a broader capacity for being an asshole to anyone at any point that's just drier and less [outbursts of physical aggression] than dollar bill's style.

no idea what rian's overall arcs could be when yknow, why is she here, why has she stayed here, her most relevance right now gets to be "has the dialogue capacity to talk about getting prince with a sex scandal. also has zero thoughts on how power factors into one rather than that you just need to be polite about it?" which only feels truly character specific when held up against "rian was supposedly bullied but also Above even hating the people who did it. but she is also a bully and not even especially emotionally detached about it, even though how she treats winston is more important than how she feels about it" like basically "also a bully" is her most coherent deal. and it's just Interesting that simply being mean to winston is again basically pointed out, and her future bestie or [put in the same shots duo status] dollar bill is Impending but the episode was like "yeah of course everyone hates this guy, for being awful" and the joke nonjoke the whole time that unfortunately rian might get along just fine with bill as workplace (and probably also life in general, it's not a honed strategy they limit to the office) bullies

so that That's what rian gets for getting to stick around, while winston Might get to be shoved out of the fund hq with any character flair from him and, i do unfortunately have to wonder harder now, maybe any relevance afforded to the way people have treated him, indeed maybe rian especially, his personal bully and abusive friend. and because other people also see rian as better than him & maybe also winston as [not a person], if winston does anything that's indeed deliberately petty, mean, Angry, etc, towards rian, That will be seen as unacceptable vs the yknow checks notes years of cruel interpersonal treatment from rian to winston, but nothing hangs in the balance on that front, people won't suddenly be like "nice. winston's a person to me now, which, why am i even in a position to Decide that" if he's shoved out & goes quietly & politely and creates no problems in return. and, very much like dollar bill, i don't think rian will change, but for winston's own sake it would be Heartening if he voices his experience such that we know he knows it was bullshit, even though of course rian, and probably anyone else, isn't going to choose to listen past 5 seconds, least of all when he's clearly indicating a general state of irritation. rooting for flair and idiosyncrasy for him and indeed that the best sources for that could be with taylor, please, the person he's always been here for, rian, the person for years now bullying him more than she does anyone else or more than anyone else does to winston, and even fun if there's anything with tuk his apparent genuine friend tuk, and by "fun" i mean "such a delight i daren't really think much abt it From Canon"

anyways the tl;dr i suppose is that winston getting apparently thrown away in the first third of the season is insulting treatment but rian getting to stay and be dollar bill's wretched bestie is truly the worse fate and basically that distillation of like. oh winston's bringing it on himself he's so annoying nobody likes him, while in actuality all the ways he's never fit in or done things "right" and how he would never have been hired if taylor hadn't done it are all compliments and endorsements. while rian's been viewed as a capable valuable person by all from the start and treated as Better Than even others who are still also seen people, but her "success" and the shit she gets to continue to do in how she treats people b/c nothing about being at work stops that and some things facilitate & reward it, see: also dollar bill being around the whole time & now also back, definitely include treating a friendly coworker any which way, which she usually chooses to be: badly. and of course shoutout to the thread of taylor being like "if you stay btw you'll probably get all fucked up" but like also rian just Brought the [i'm a bully but it's fine when i do it. it's bad when it happens to Me] stance from the start, but like, obviously always the opportunity to get worse and just be left off with that implication of Never Trying To Learn, just like your new good friend dollar bill

real tl;dr As Fates Go winston being shitted on & fired / driven to quit >>>>>>>> rian sticking around, befriending dollar bill. and like not in the way i'm arguing that the fate is worse like In Conceptual Quality. it's just a hell of a potential condemnation / indirect illustration of like, here's this person it's horrible to be around, here's a reminder rian is cruel to this coworker on a dime anytime, here's rian deciding the horrible person is Alright anyways. maybe they'll be busy with a bullying power struggle the whole time. and maybe winston will get to appear outside the fund actually. just really something to be going like "oh my god lmao rian and dollar bill might actually be specifically getting along well as fellow [be horrible to coworkers] bullies and assholes who feel Above It, it being many other people, this being a kind of requirement there" and to be wondering if billions will make this fact that rian's job is being an asshole more relevant at all, if even to be like yeah leaving off with a lost cause here, including that i really doubt winston can Get Through To her even with his ability & willingness to air his grievances, and like, as though oh actually winston brought it upon himself b/c rian just didn't knowww, that's on him and his visible pain & verbal expressions of that pain & requests that she stop which Weren't Enough, and as though maintaining that onesided dynamic for bullying and demeaning and shutting down and abusing was like an unconscious accidental coincidence every time and not its own Active Process, regardless of what the other person does or doesn't do, and with the agenda of maintaining that [i'm the person who chooses how things go; they're the object that reacts accordingly like it's laws of physics level of demands of reality] one-sided relationship, so they'd only just be looking to react to what that other person does or doesn't do in ways that serve those purposes anyway. sometimes rian's "nicer" but she's still the one deciding how everything goes, winston can only roll with it like a ball at the top of a ramp like, of course, unquestionable. cue space winston, zero gravity

haha another tl;dr. winston being disposed of is a warmer Fate to assign a character than rian's potential "of course she's friends with dollar bill now" like lmfao Ouch. but yeah of course.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[vulcanhello]

anyone trying to argue fanfic is inherently better than the films, books, and other stories they originate from i just KNOW doesn’t actually watch movies or read or engage with anything outside their favorite ao3 tags

[terrorbirb]

Me at work every week: "sorry I have dyslexia, could you tell me how these numbers are different?" "Sorry I have dyslexia, could you send that to me in an email?" "Sorry I have dyslexia -"

[boreal-sea]

Look.

I have made you a chart. A very simple chart.

People say "You have to draw the line somewhere, and Biden has crossed it-" and my response is "Trump has crossed way more lines than Biden".

These categories are based off of actual policy enacted by both of these men while they were in office.

If the ONLY LINE YOU CARE ABOUT is line 12, you have an incredible amount of privilege, AND YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT PALESTINIANS. You obviously have nothing to fear from a Trump presidency, and you do not give a fuck if a ceasefire actually occurs. You are obviously fine if your queer, disabled, and marginalized loved ones are hurt. You clearly don't care about the status of American democracy, which Trump has openly stated he plans to destroy on day 1 he is in office.

EDIT:

Ok fine, I spent 3 hours compiling sources for all of these, you can find that below the cut.

I'll give at least one link per subject area. There are of course many more sources to be read on these subject areas and no post could possibly give someone a full education on these subjects.

Biden and trans rights: https://www.hrc.org/resources/president-bidens-pro-lgbtq-timeline

Trump and trans rights: https://www.aclu.org/news/lgbtq-rights/trump-on-lgbtq-rights-rolling-back-protections-and-criminalizing-gender-nonconformity

The two sources above show how Biden has done a lot of work to promote trans rights, and how Trump did a lot of work to hurt trans rights.

Biden on abortion access: https://www.cnn.com/2022/07/08/politics/what-is-in-biden-abortion-executive-order/index.html

Trump on abortion access: https://apnews.com/article/abortion-trump-republican-presidential-election-2024-585faf025a1416d13d2fbc23da8d8637

Biden openly supports access to abortion and has taken steps to protect those rights at a federal level even after Roe v Wade was overturned. Trump, on the other hand, was the man who appointed the judges who helped overturn Roe v Wade and he openly brags about how proud he is of that decision. He also states that he believes individual states should have the final say in whether or not abortion is legal, and that he trusts them to "do the right thing", meaning he supports stronger abortion bans.

Biden on environmental reform: https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2021/10/07/fact-sheet-president-biden-restores-protections-for-three-national-monuments-and-renews-american-leadership-to-steward-lands-waters-and-cultural-resources/

Trump on environmental reform: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/climate/trump-environment-rollbacks-list.html

Biden has made major steps forward for environmental reform. He has restored protections that Trump rolled back. He has enacted many executive orders and more to promote environmental protections, including rejoining the Paris Accords, which Trump withdrew the USA from. Trump is also well known for spreading conspiracy theories and lies about global climate change, calling it a "Chinese hoax".

Biden on healthcare and prescription reform: https://www.hhs.gov/about/news/2023/06/09/biden-administration-announces-savings-43-prescription-drugs-part-cost-saving-measures-president-bidens-inflation-reduction-act.html

Trump on healthcare reform: https://www.cnn.com/2024/01/07/politics/obamacare-health-insurance-ending-trump/index.html

I'm rolling healthcare and prescriptions and vaccines and public health all into one category here since they are related. Biden has lowered drug costs, expanded access to medicaid, and ACA enrollment has risen during his presidency. He has also made it so medical debt no longer applies to a person's credit score. He signed many executive orders during his first few weeks in office in order to get a handle on Trump's grievous mishandling of the COVID pandemic. Trump also wants to end the ACA. Trump is well known for refusing to wear a mask during the pandemic, encouraging the use of hydroxylchloroquine to "treat" COVID, and being openly anti-vaxx.

Biden on student loan forgiveness: https://www.ed.gov/news/press-releases/biden-harris-administration-announces-additional-77-billion-approved-student-debt-relief-160000-borrowers

Trump on student loan forgiveness: https://www.forbes.com/sites/adamminsky/2024/06/20/trump-knocks-bidens-vile-student-loan-forgiveness-plans-suggests-reversal/

Trump wants to reverse the student loan forgiveness plans Biden has enacted. Biden has already forgiven billions of dollars in loans and continues to work towards forgiving more.

Infrastructure funding:

I'm putting these links next together because they are all about infrastructure.

In general, Trump's "achievements" for infrastructure were to destroy environmental protections to speed up projects. Many of his plans were ineffective due to the fact that he did not clearly outline where the money was going to come from, and he was unwilling to raise taxes to pay for the projects. He was unable (and unwilling) to pass a bipartisan infrastructure bill during his 4 years in office. He did sign a few disaster relief bills. He did not enthusiastically promote renewable energy infrastructure. He created "Infrastructure Weeks" that the federal government then failed to fund. Trump did not do nothing for infrastructure, but his no-tax stance and his dislike for renewable energy means the contributions he made to American infrastructure were not as much as he claimed they were, nor as much as they could have been. Basically, he made a lot of promises, and delivered on very few of them. He is not "against" infrastructure, but he's certainly against funding it.

Biden was able to pass that bipartisan bill after taking office. The Bipartisan Infrastructure Plan that Trump tried to prevent from passing during Biden's term contains concrete funding sources and step by step plans to rebuild America's infrastructure. If you want to read the plan, you can find it here: https://www.whitehouse.gov/build/guidebook/. Biden has done far more for American infrastructure than Trump did, most notably by actually getting the bipartisan bill through congress.

Biden on Racial Equity: https://www.npr.org/sections/president-biden-takes-office/2021/01/26/960725707/biden-aims-to-advance-racial-equity-with-executive-actions

Trump on Racial Equity: https://www.axios.com/2024/04/01/trump-reverse-racism-civil-rights https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-us-canada-37230916

Trump's racist policies are loud and clear for everyone to hear. We all heard him call Mexicans "Drug dealers, criminals, rapists". We all watched as he enacted travel bans on people from majority-Muslim nations. Biden, on the other hand, has done quite a lot during his term to attempt to reconcile racism in this country, including reversing Trump's "Muslim ban" the first day he was in office.

Biden on DEI: https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2021/06/25/executive-order-on-diversity-equity-inclusion-and-accessibility-in-the-federal-workforce/

Trump on DEI: https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/trump-tried-to-crush-the-dei-revolution-heres-how-he-might-finish-the-job/ar-BB1jg3gz

Biden supports DEI and has signed executive orders and passed laws that support DEI on the federal level. Trump absolutely hates DEI and wants to eradicate it.

Biden on criminal justice reform: https://time.com/6155084/biden-criminal-justice-reform/

Trump on criminal justice reform: https://www.vox.com/2020-presidential-election/21418911/donald-trump-crime-criminal-justice-policy-record https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2024/05/trumps-extreme-plans-crime/678502/

From pardons for non-violent marijuana convictions to reducing the federal government's reliance on private prisons, Biden has done a lot in four years to reform our criminal justice system on the federal level. Meanwhile, Trump has described himself as "tough on crime". He advocates for more policing, including "stop and frisk" activities. Ironically it's actually quite difficult to find sources about what Trump thinks about crime, because almost all of the search results are about his own crimes.

Biden on military support for Israel: https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/national-security/biden-obama-divide-closely-support-israel-rcna127107

Trump on military support for Israel: https://www.vox.com/politics/353037/trump-gaza-israel-protests-biden-election-2024

Biden supports Israel financially and militarily and promotes holding Israel close. So did Trump. Trump was also very pro-Israel during his time in office and even moved the embassy to Jerusalem and declared Jerusalem the capitol of Israel, a move that inflamed attitudes in the region.

Biden on a ceasefire: https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/world/2024/06/05/gaza-israel-hamas-cease-fire-plan-biden/73967659007/

Trump on a ceasefire: https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/trump-israel-gaza-finish-problem-rcna141905

Trump has tried to be quiet on the issue but recently said he wants Israel to "finish the problem". He of course claims he could have prevented the whole problem. Trump also openly stated after Oct 7th that he would bar immigrants who support Hamas from the country and send in officers to American protests to arrest anyone supporting Hamas.

Biden meanwhile has been quietly urging Netanyahu to accept a ceasefire deal for months, including the most recent announcement earlier in June, though it seems as though that deal has finally fallen through as well.

[elizabro]

I hate onboarding/job training. makes me feel like the dumbest motherfucker alive

[smoft-demons]

MC falls asleep on him

_______

Lucifer:

‘…?!’ Is what Lucifer is thinking as your head drops onto his shoulder.

You had cajoled him into doing some of his constant paperwork in a bigger chair for a change. So there’s room for you to sit next to him! You’re not even demanding his attention, or the spare time that he doesn’t have, you’re being very considerate, you just wanted sit next to him, that’s all, you had promised!

Lucifer caved, because he is very soft for his human—even though he’s loathe to look like it. You were in fact being considerate… so he had brought a stack of relatively low-importance papers out of his office, into the living room.

You were sitting on a couch together, him with his stack of administrative papers and you with a homework assignment. You finished yours quickly, so you ended up playing a game on your DDD as you lean against him.

He checks on you periodically out of the corner of his eye. He’s relaxed though—as relaxed as Lucifer gets. This is peaceful. Meditative, almost. He’s happy. All his brothers are elsewhere, his tasks are not too overwhelming, he gets to have a nice, calming afternoon sitting in companionable silence with his favourite housemate…

A sudden weight falling on him jolts him out of his trance. Your cheekbone thunks against his shoulder. He blinks. Processing.

In quick succession, his brain goes like ‘..?!’ then ‘it is mid-afternoon why are you sleeping’ and ‘have we been overworking our human?’ and ‘aww. MC really does trust me that much.’

He adjusts the way you’re situated so you’re more comfortable as he finishes up the last of his work. When he’s done, he takes a moment to just observe. To appreciate your trust in him. Also, to congratulate himself again for his part in the creation of the exchange program, because it brought you into his life.

(He tries to ignore the stubborn twinge of nostalgic heartache he feels as well. You’re reminding him so much of Belphie, from back when his relationship with him was good. He’d never admit it, but he misses having his babiest brother fall asleep on him like this.)

Lucifer gathers up his papers, then picks you up, being careful not to jostle you too much. Let no one ever say he doesn’t take good care of his human. He carries you to your room to put you to bed. Clearly you need the extra sleep. Or… well, he tries to. You’re holding onto him pretty insistently.

He expects himself to feel irritated, but… no. He can’t help but feel a little smug, actually. It’s cute, you’re cute, you don’t seem to want him to leave you. So… fine. He’ll oblige. For a short break.

(An hour or two later, you’ll wake up to the smells and sounds of dinner being prepared. You’re… not under your blanket? No, you’re covered by Lucifer’s ridiculously long coat. It’s warm, soft. It smells like him. In this moment, it’s impossible to miss how loved you are.)

_______

Mammon:

The first time this happened (in your room, watching movies without any of his brothers for once), Mammon was stunned. He had frozen up, stuttered some nonsense to no one in particular, then quickly slapped his free hand over his mouth as he realized he would wake you if he didn’t immediately chill out.

Now though? You’ve been in his life for a while. He’s your oldest friend here. Those movie nights had become a habit, even though it remained rare to have one with no one else joining in. So this has happened a lot, and he’s gotten used to it. He doesn’t react so outwardly anymore, not unless one of his brothers show up to make fun of him.

If they try it, Mammon is rather aggressive about shushing them. At first, because he hated to be so obvious about how much he cares about you, but now that he’s a bit more used to it, it’s because he doesn’t want them to disturb you. He feels like he’s protecting you by keeping his brothers from waking you up. Sometimes, he’s the one who wakes you up by telling them to shut up just a bit too loudly, or silently gesturing for them to be quiet or go away a little too enthusiastically.

His brothers roast him even more for that. Poor thing.

Time and time again, you pass out on his shoulder. During a movie, mid relaxed hangouts with various groups of the brothers, in the rare times when hanging out solo with Mammon is a relaxing low-energy affair, while studying, during the lunch break at school, even in class sometimes. His heart warms, and he can’t help but smile at the familiar feel of you conked out on his shoulder again. He doesn’t even mind if you snore.

Mammon is usually such a loud, high energy person. Neither you nor him finds anything wrong with that of course, it’s one of many lovable things about him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like being able to just chill with you sometimes though. It’s nice.

Eventually, he gets familiar enough with this that he’s willing to move you around to get more comfortable. With time, he learns exactly what ways he can move you without disturbing you. So most of the time when you fall asleep on him, you wake up in some other position. Sitting in his lap, lying down with a sleeping Mammon wrapped around you, being carried to another room, propped up against his side in your next class, being hugged like a teddy bear in his room, etc etc.

He never questions why you’re tired. He just lets you pass out on him. He wants you to be in the best possible condition, and he will happily take all the time with you he can get. He takes this to mean that you also want all the time with him that you can get, that you would rather stay with him than go to bed when you’re tired because you would rather not be separated from him. Just like how he feels about you. Why else would he be in your room as often as he is?

You trusting him enough to sleep on him all the time makes him feel like he’s being a good guardian demon, like he’s as precious to you as you are to him.

He’s a fan of all the free cuddles he gets out of this, too.

_______

Levi:

You’re in Levi’s room with him, set up very comfortably as you’re marathoning an anime together. You’ve been at it for hours though, you’re already a bit sleep deprived, and you’ve seen this one a few times already. You can’t stop yourself from nodding off. Your head drops onto his shoulder.

Levi freaks out.

“afgshrjdxssh—WH-!” He flails. You immediately snap awake again. “You—uhh-!” He shoves you away in a panic, then immediately changes his mind, pulling you back in, then freezes for a moment before letting go of you to flap his hands frantically. “Nonono stay—wait no, you don’t want to—I mean, you don’t have to—I mean, get o—uhh! Um! I mean! S-stay if you want, but I don’t care if you don’t want to—!”

You blink slowly at him a couple times. Trying to parse his contradictory sputtering. You’re tired, you’re not working at full brain power. You figure he means something along the lines of: ‘ooo I’m Levi, I have bad self esteem and I can’t believe you want to touch me, but I want you to, but I can’t say that because I cope with feeling unlovable by acting all tsundere because that way I feel less pathetic, love you though!’

You know. Standard Levi stuff. You love him so much—and you’d be very happy if he started therapy.

For now though, you just grab his arm and pull him closer to you again. You bury your face in his shoulder. This time, it’s unmistakably a deliberate move. Wordlessly telling him that you do in fact love him enough to want to touch him.

It’s like his body just took a screenshot! He keysmashes out loud.

Slowly, he calms down. He puts one hesitant arm around you. You don’t move. He can’t tell if you’re already asleep again or just pretending to be, but either way you seem to be comfortable.

Soon enough, he finds himself smiling like an absolute dork. This… is actually very effective reassurance. He feels all warm and fuzzy and loved. He likes holding you.

It’s reminding him of TSL fluff fics he’s read where absolutely nothing happens except Henry and the Lord of Shadows cuddle. A way for him to experience affection vicariously through a character he relates to and a character he loves, when he really wants hugs himself but can’t have any.

He squeezes you softly as his heart warms. He squishes his cheek against the side of your head.

“I love my Henry..!” Levi mumbles to himself, under his breath. He has no way of knowing if you heard that, which is why he said it out loud. It’ll be a while until he gets the nerve to say it when he knows you can hear.

_______

Satan:

He is HONOURED, he is OVERJOYED, he is MELTING, he is… very carefully remaining perfectly chill.

It’s the same type of happiness as when a cat decides to sit on you out of nowhere. He’s been chosen!

He is SO happy you trust him so much!

He had been reading, as usual. You had been sitting next to him, as usual. You had gotten tired, and without a moment of hesitation you had buried your face in his shoulder and fallen asleep.

He carefully contains all the joy this gives him, so he doesn’t disturb you. He wraps an arm around you, plants a soft kiss on your head, and goes right back to reading.

If you sleep fitfully, he’ll stroke your hair to soothe you.

When you wake up, he’ll ask if you had a nice nap. He won’t make any moves to make you get off him. If you choose to anyway, he won’t react outwardly, because he doesn’t want to discourage you falling asleep on him again. He wants this to happen lots more! So he’ll just smile at you and go back to his book.

But if you don’t choose to leave, he’ll shift you entirely into his lap to make you both more comfortable. He can hug you properly like this. If he’s sure you’ll be comfortable with it, he’ll kiss your forehead before going back to his book. He’s very happy to keep you there.

_______

Asmo:

Predictably, Asmo’s gonna take ALL the pictures of this!

A few in which he doesn’t look at the camera, as if they were candid shots. Some where he’s posing cutely, a couple where he’s kissing your head, a bunch of various angles of your sleeping face. What can he say, he thinks the way your cheek squishes against his collarbone is just precious.

A bit less predictably, he posts none on devilgram. No, these are just for him.

…maybe the best ones are for the group chat. He’s gotta show off his cute human to someone, it may as well be to his brothers. They’ll appreciate you properly. He’ll share after you’ve woken up, though. He doesn’t want anyone barging in to disturb you.

He’ll share the pictures with you as well if you ask, of course! What he will NOT do, however, is risk you deleting them! He’ll back them up first. He’ll store them in a hidden album if you’re shy about them, but he’s not deleting them!

Well, unless you’re genuinely uncomfortable. Then, okay fine. But please let him keep at least one? You’re so cute!

He’ll be more affectionate over the following days. Trying to be next to you all the time, inviting you to his room at every opportunity, pulling you to sit next to him. All because he hopes you’ll fall asleep on him again. Or just lean on him like that, and let him cuddle you. Please, he’d be SO happy!

_______

Beel:

Beel is so used to this behaviour. Belphie falls asleep on him all the time. He’d be the most chill about it.

As if it’s routine, he’ll secure you in your position with his arm, so you can’t fall and get hurt. He’ll rub your back and hum softly to you to help you relax if you don’t seem to be sleeping well. Beel is warm and soft and big and comfy, like the giant teddy bear he is at heart. He’s considerate and gentle. He’s always really sweet to you, and that doesn’t change one bit even when you’re unconscious.

When he inevitably gets too hungry to stay where he is, he’ll just take you to the kitchen with him. It’s no problem, he does this with Belphie all the time. It doesn’t matter how much you weigh, Beel can carry you easily. He thinks nothing of it.

He can cook one handed too if he needs to. He’s got practice—also because of Belphie. He’s chilling, he’s comfortable, there’s nothing unusual about this at all to him.

If the kitchen noises wake you up, he’ll apologize and share his food with you. He’ll tell you outright that he’s happy to let you use him as a pillow whenever you want.

(Also, he makes a mental note to drop you off with Belphie instead of bringing you along to the kitchen and risking waking you up again next time)

If it doesn’t wake you up, no problem! That’s what he expected. He just carries you around as he does what he needs to do around the house. He’ll put you to bed properly if he needs to go outside of course, but otherwise he’s bringing you with him.

When you wake up, he’ll put you down if you somehow indicate that’s what you want. If you don’t though, he just… won’t. He likes holding you. He’d do it so often if he thought you’d like him to.

_______

Belphie:

…Welp. The table has turned, hasn’t it.

People don’t fall asleep on Belphie while he’s awake too often! He’s not usually conscious to experience this! He likes it though. He thinks you’re being so cute.

9 times out of 10, Belphie will take this as his cue to cuddle up to you and join you in sleep. He can always be tempted into a nap. He’d make sure this the comfiest, nicest, most restful nap you’ve ever taken. He’d make sure you feel so safe and loved. You will NOT be disturbed on his watch.

On the rare tenth time, when Belphie isn’t tired, he might whine about being trapped. When one of his brothers points out that he can move you very easily, he glares at them. He maintains that it’s illegal to move when you’ve been chosen as someone’s pillow. When it’s pointed out that he’s perfectly capable of waking you if he really wants to get up, he looks affronted. He would NOT do that, he says. Do they think he’s completely heartless, he asks.

Well. He wouldn’t do that unless he’s feeling particularly bratty. He’d totally do it to any of his brothers… but he’s soft with you. He loves you. Be so for real, do you think he’d really ever pass up an opportunity to cuddle you? No way. He can go shopping later.

He won’t tell you that though. He’ll bitch about it to your face, complaining until you agree to go shopping with him next time, all the while refusing to let go of you.

He already was not hesitating to fall asleep on you, but he somehow gets more shameless and constant about it. Since you’re doing it too, it’s your thing now. You’d be a hypocrite to complain now.

Yeah, he couldn’t be happier about this. Please sleep on him all the time. Enable him even more! He’ll make sure you won’t regret it.

[ugh-yoongi]

ex-conomics | csc

you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3

You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.

“Um—”

You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”

“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”

Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.

TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)

You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.

That, however, was two years ago.

“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”

Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”

“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”

You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”

Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”

The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”

You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”

“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”

“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.

But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”

You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.

You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.

You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.

You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.

You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.

You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.

You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.

So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.

“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”

For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.

A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.

But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.

Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.

You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.

Your stomach plummets to the floor.

You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.

“Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.

Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.

The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.

“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”

Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”

She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”

“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”

She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”

You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”

“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”

Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”

Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.

You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”

“And continued wearing it?”

She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”

Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.

So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”

“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”

“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”

Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”

You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.

Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.

“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”

The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.

“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”

She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:

doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄

You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”

“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”

You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.

You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.

And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.

But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.

They never do.

And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.

“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

This time it is an accusation.

Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.

You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.

Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.

Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.

You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.

“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”

You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.

“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”

But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.

“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”

And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.

You cannot go there again.

So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”

Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.

You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.

Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”

He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.

But you did, so it stings all the same.

As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.

You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.

Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.

Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.

He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.

Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”

“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”

“Depends. How long do you have?”

“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”

“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”

You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”

He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”

“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”

You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”

“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”

Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.

And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.

Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.

“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”

He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”

“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.

You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.

You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.

He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—

“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”

“At this university?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”

Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.

“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”

Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.

So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.

Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.

But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.

You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.

Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.

The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.

“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”

He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.

“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”

“Oh—yeah, right.”

You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.

You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.

I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.

Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.

But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.

So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.

“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”

“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”

You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”

She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.

The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.

“Not bad, actually.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.

“Can I help you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”

You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”

He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”

You blink. “No, you didn’t.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”

What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.

“They want to know about his girlfriend.”

“His what?”

What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.

But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.

You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.

Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.

“What’s wrong?”

Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.

What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”

Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”

“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”

“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”

“Seungcheol,” you correct.

He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.

They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.

Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?

Seungcheol shared a location with you

You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.

You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.

Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.

Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.

“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”

“Oh. How’s he doing?”

Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”

“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”

You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.

“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”

You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”

Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.

The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.

He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…

It’s the familiarity, you realize.

You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.

“That’s not what I’m say—”

“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”

“Right—not good enough, like I said.”

“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”

“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”

You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.

So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.

The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.

Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.

Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.

Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.

“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.

Also fruitless.

You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.

And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.

But it isn’t, and you’re not.

“If you’re not going to listen, then—”

“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.

Perhaps he never did.

“What are we discussing, then?”

Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”

You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”

It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.

“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”

He nods.

“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”

The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.

So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.

Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.

Kaori invites you to a party.

Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.

After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.

So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.

At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.

You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.

You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.

You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.

You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.

Seungcheol finds you in your office.

It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.

You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.

So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.

“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”

He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”

“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”

You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.

So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.

But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.

Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.

Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you’ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.

“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.

You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.

Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.

Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.

Again.

Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.

She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.

Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.

And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”

Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”

“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”

She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”

“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”

“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”

You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”

“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”

A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.

Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.

You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.

Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?

Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.

Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?

Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.

You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.

L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.

You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.

So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.

She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.

“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”

Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”

You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”

She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”

“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”

You do.

Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.

It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.

You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.

The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.

There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.

You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.

(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)

One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.

Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.

Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.

You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.

“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”

Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”

Cut to black.

The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…

I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…

You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.

I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?

I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.

So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…

I’m sorry.

I love you.

You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.

The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.

“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”

On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”

“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”

She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”

“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”

After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.

The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.

Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.

You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…

And start recording.

He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.

There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?

He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…

Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?

It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—

And then there it was.

All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—

Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.

I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.

I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.

Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.

Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.

You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.

Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.

I love you, too.

—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.

Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.

There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.

He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”

“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.

There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.

Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.

Somehow you taste the same.

Somehow you taste like redemption.

You taste like home.

Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.

When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—

And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.

“I always will.”

(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)

if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

[sillyblues]

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic

part 2

You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).

But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.

“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…

“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.

“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”

“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.

“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.

.

.

.

“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.

Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.

You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh. 

“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”

“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.

“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you. 

Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.

What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”

“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.

He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear. 

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”

From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.

That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands. 

“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes. 

Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”

“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.

“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.

“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”

He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.

Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?

Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.

No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.

You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—

“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”

“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked. 

Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Word Count: 4k

Part 2: READ HERE

The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 

Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.

All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  

Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 

“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”

As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”

To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”

Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”

Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  

Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 

The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 

You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 

And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.

“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 

You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.

“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”

He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”

You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.

With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 

You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  

The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 

The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”

He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 

Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”

“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.

“Yes,” you confirm. 

Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.

Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.

The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.

Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  

It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”

Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.

Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.

Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 

How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?

The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.

You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 

That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 

The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 

And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.

You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.

The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 

Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 

Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 

Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 

Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.

“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”

It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 

By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 

You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.

“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.

Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 

Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.

Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  

You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 

“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”

You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 

“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.

You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 

“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”

The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.

Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 

You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 

Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.

The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 

Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 

This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.

And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.

[mutable-manifestation]

Ghost Chirps AU Part 4

A little treat in these trying times

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

***

The first time Daniel chirps (to Vlad’s knowledge, but it’s actually the fifth, he was just out of range in the GZ all the previous time) Vlad responds immediately. 

The boy attacks him just as viciously as ever, and Vlad assumes from then on that the boy is merely taunting him, crying out for family only to go “no, not you.”

Vlad ignores it from then on. It isn’t particularly frequent anyway.

When he hears him chirping back and forth with some other ghost somewhere on the East Coast he feels his eye twitch. 

He dismisses it, however. No doubt it is one of Daniel’s little ghost allies helping him try to antagonize Vlad into showing up just to be rejected again.

Well, Vlad won’t fall for Daniel’s petty tricks. He would be Vlad’s son in time one way or another, no need to indulge the boy’s temporary sense of superiority.

It is grating when it wakes him up in the middle of the night, but he goes back to sleep quickly after.

Midday, he thinks he might have to track down Danny’s little friend for a nice long chat about Not Doing That. But that’s an issue for later.

Before “later” can arrive, Vlad finds himself taken into “temporary custody” while the police search his house.

He goes peacefully, assured that they’ll find nothing amiss, all of his ecto materials tucked neatly away in a lab that is inaccessible any way other than phasing. And wrapped in lead just in case.

He does not notice that a member of the Justice League is involved, nor would he care, certain that none could find his lab. And utterly unaware of the JLD’s existence.

Not that the JLD is needed in this case.

Despite his best efforts to change every copy of the construction crews’ blueprints both digital and physical in order to eliminate knowledge of the inaccessible room, there’s no accounting for memory.

Officer Roger worked in construction before joining the force, and it was only less than a half a year ago that Masters’ Amity home was constructed. Officer Roger still remembers the doorless, windowless box they built alongside the small mansion itself. It’s nowhere to be found on the property, so he brings it up with his superior.

Orphan questions it - nearly giving the whole team heart-attacks in the process - but a simple “I used to work in construction” seems to be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

A two hour sweep with some metal detectors finds nothing.

Then Orphan reappears from the shadows, providing another jumpscare, before pressing a hand silently to the side of her head.

The crew watches in silence as well, giving their pulses a chance to slow.

A ten-count later Orphan’s hand drops, and she strides confidently to the rear-left corner of the mansion and points at the ground.

“200 feet beneath the foundation,” she says before disappearing back into the shadows.

The crew shares a look and gets to work.

The time it takes to dig up the cube is just more time spent in a cell for Vlad, where he waits patiently, assured he’ll be released soon enough.

The lab itself would be only a minor problem - there would be fines and inspections and a heavy watch until everything was brought up to code. Questions about how he accessed it would be a larger problem.

But worst of all, in the comfort of his lab? He’s not much for hiding away incriminating documents. 

Of which there are many, given his propensity for keeping extensive records of his experiments, which include unethical cloning and what sums up to human experimentation. 

Once they find the actual facilities for the experiments in his Wisconsin home? It will all be over for him.

Being a ghost he could, of course, simply flee the cell and start anew somewhere else, with a new identity or even in a new dimension altogether - so long as he could nab Maddie and her children to bring with him.

But within his labs, he also keeps extensive records of himself.

A copy of the Plasmius Maximus.

Other ghost- and halfa-capturing restraints.

When he hears steps approaching his cell 2 days into his stay when it is clearly not a mealtime, he thinks “finally” assured that he is about to be released.

He only registers that it is Batman after he’s been hit by the Plasmius Maximus - cut off from his powers for at least the next two hours.

He has no chance to complain, as he is subsequently tranqued unconscious to be taken to a more secure location.

***

It’s an hour and half after school let out when the cops - who had taken to trying to distract Jazz and Danny with cards games and work stories while they waited - step away to answer their radios. 

When they return, they tell them that it’s “time to go.”

The siblings share a look, then shrug.

It wouldn’t be the first time the cops had to drive them home - rare though it was, there were at least 4 such occasions in their memories. It wasn’t a big deal.

They were less than enthused when the cops explained that they’d be heading to take them to the station instead of to home. Still, they chalked it up to the whole “questions about the Red Hood” thing and moved on. 

At least it meant they could dodge a home visit like Danny had wanted.

Except when they get there, they are taken to a cushy room and introduced to their social worker, a woman with a kind smile and a soothing voice who introduces herself as Bethany Scott, sits them down and explains, very gently, that their parents are currently under investigation.

To her credit, she isn’t condescending. She doesn’t try to hide away the truth; when they ask why, she tells them.

It’s a surprisingly long list of charges. Of everything on it, the violation of the meta protection acts comes as the biggest surprise.

Their parents were obsessive about ghosts, but they were also good at it. They never attack anything that doesn’t have ectoplasm.

Well, barring a few misfires.

Another surprise comes then: the Anti-Ecto Acts don’t exist. Ghosts are covered by the MPA by design, the AEA would never have gotten off of the ground in any legal capacity. It is solely a creation of the GIW, an extreme “‘real’ humans only” supremacist group that had worked at every level to pull the wool over the eyes of the small town’s citizenry so thoroughly that they’d been thought a real government agency - the imitation of which would be just one of the many charges that every member they managed to capture would be facing.

Then Mrs Scott starts talking about placement options.

Their Aunt, they are told, is not an option. 

It comes as a surprise to Danny. On quiet nights, when no ghosts showed up to interrupt him and Sam and Tucker weren’t up to distract him with a game of Doomed, his mind would sometimes wander back to that darkest of timelines.

He’d wondered how Vlad had ended up with custody. Being his godfather made him an option, but Danny would’ve wanted to go with Alicia. Will be damned, Danny would’ve plead on both knees with the judge to go with his aunt. Grieving or not, he’d have wanted as much distance between him and Vlad as possible,

He’d assumed Vlad must have done something to her or paid off the judge to rule in his favor.

To find out it was because she simply wouldn’t take him?

A part of him understands. He doesn't - Aunt Alicia is a kind person, yes, but not particularly loving or caring. When his parents brought up the subject of children with her on one of their rare visits, she described herself as having “less motherly instinct than a starving axolotl.”

Not an encouraging description after he read a book on axolotls for context. 

With their options being “Aunt in a small wood cabin in the middle of nowhere with the emotional sensitivity of a bull in a china shop” and “Rich friend of the family who would enable them to stay in contact with their friends and could hire them therapists even if he’s personally useless for helping them through the grieving process” she probably also figured marking herself down as a solid non-option would just expedite them getting the help they need (because she does care, even if she herself can’t - won’t - be there for them in that way).

He doesn’t hate her, but the knowledge burns. To know that there really was no avoiding Vlad - in that horrible future and in the now - makes him sick to his stomach.

Except-

Except before he can spiral, Mrs Scott tells them that Vlad is also not an option. Because he’s also under investigation.

A hysterical giggle bursts past his lips before he can think to stop it.

“Why?” he asks, ignoring Jazz’ disapproving grimace.

It’s less funny when they’re told that he’s under investigation under suspicion of mostly the same violations as their parents - including MPA violation, given the whole “million dollar ghost” incident and related propaganda. As the mayor especially, he should’ve known the AEA weren’t real and that the GIW were frauds and it was his responsibility to do something about them.

Depending on how he’d interacted with the group, he might be looking at aiding and abetting treason - or just outright treason - charges.

“If Aunt Alicia and Vlad both aren’t able to take us, then where are we going to go?” Jazz asks, shoving her emotions aside to deal with the matter at hand.

“Ordinarily, we would call up a few local fosters and see if one could take you in for a few days while we look into more long-term options. Worst case scenario you would have to spend a night or two in a hotel suite connected to mine while I found someone,” she answers. “But the two of you are in luck; Batman is the one who brought the case to our attention - apparently some erratic behavior from Red Hood brought them here, don’t ask, I don’t have all the details - and offered to run your parents’ DNA to check for other relatives that could take you. There was a match.”

The siblings share another look.

Both grandparents on their mother’s side had been only children and both were dead. Aunt Alicia had already said no and had no children of her own. Their father had been disowned by his family, and even if their other Aunts and Uncles would have been willing to take them in it didn’t matter, because all 5 had died in various accidents on their “hunts.”

“Apparently your uncle, Jerry Fenton, had a fling before he passed with one Ms Sheila Haywood. Their son, Jason, was thought to be the son of Willis Todd and Mrs Haywood until the DNA test today. He was raised by Willis and Mrs Catherine Todd until his subsequent adoption by Mr Bruce Wayne, and is currently living in Gotham.”

And it sounds wrong - the only thing most Fentons could love was mystery and danger - thus why only one out of six had survived. But they don’t know enough to dispute it.

Also. The involvement of another billionaire is setting off alarm bells. On the one hand: this could be a fruitloop paying someone off in order to forcibly adopt them. On the other hand, maybe Jason Todd really was a Fenton and being adopted by fruitloops was some kind of curse on the current generation.

“We contacted Mr. Todd the moment the connection was made. He has expressed an interest in taking you in, and flew out immediately to come and meet you. He arrived not five minutes ago.”

She paused and gave them a sympathetic look. 

“I understand that this is all a lot to take in. Please know that placing you with Mr. Todd is not the end of my duties; even after he takes you, I will be following you to Gotham. I’ll be looking into counselors for the both of you, and we’ll have a follow up on that topic in a maximum of a week’s time. I’ll also be doing regular home checks to ensure you’re both settling in well and that you’re being taken good care of. 

Even with what little I’ve gleaned, it is obvious that the environment you both grew up in until now was neither a safe nor a healthy one. It is my job to ensure that doesn’t happen again. If you have any concerns about your placement home now or in the future, please do not hesitate to bring them up with me. If you worry something is not “important” enough to mention, rest assured that if it bothers you in the slightest, then it’s important to me.”

She gives them each a long look.

Then she brings in Jason.