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svt-luna · 2 months ago

Note

Hi sweetie 🍓🌹🌹 I hope you have a nice day/night 💕 Can you add this to Luna's YouTube series? 🍓. It would be fun to read. (When Mingyu gets jealous of Jeonghan because of Luna and vice versa) 🌿 And thanks in advance I really appreciate your efforts ♥️

ᡴꪫ ⋆ JEALOUSY NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD: INSIDE THE JEONGHAN-LUNA-MINGYU TRIANGLE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…

synopsis: A glimpse inside the most famous love triangle in k-pop history, most specifically the jealousy between Jeonghan and Mingyu over Luna who couldn't care less.

thank you for such kind words!! i apologize if this took so long and thank you for being patient. i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🤍 (also, these fan made youtube videos might be my favorite ones to write… so request more!!)

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ youtube compilations

[added captions are in brackets] ᡣ𐭩

bold dialogues are spoken in english ᡣ𐭩

indented italics are additional voice overs ᡣ𐭩

Here we go!

Buckle up, cause this is going to be a crazy ride.

Welcome back to another installment of “I want to be Bae Jiyeon 101” where we embark on a journey of self discovery of how blessed this woman is.

This videos is gonna focus on THE love triangle. Most specifically Mingyu and Jeonghan's jealous moments and Luna being clueless the entire time.

Enough chit chat… let’s begin… in the beginning… the video that started it all…

GOING SEVENTEEN EP 8: INSOMNIA ZERO #1

The camera panned over the dimly lit room, capturing the cozy, playful atmosphere of ‘Going Seventeen's Insomnia Zero’ set. The members sat on the mat, huddled together, all eyes fixed on the mattress where Luna lay.

[look how pretty she is]

[Sleeping Beauty fr fr]

It was round one, and the challenge was simple: keep your heart rate steady while the rest of the members tried their best to break it. With S.Coups absent due to his hiatus, the group had a mix of playful competitiveness and chaos, eager to see who could withstand the pressure and be able to go home early.

Luna, being ninth in their official order, was up next. She settled onto the mattress, her expression calm as she closed her eyes. The heart monitor pulsed softly, a subtle rhythm that would betray her slightest change in composure. The room’s lights dimmed further, casting a soft glow that highlighted the anticipation in the air.

Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, and Minghao had already taken their turns, some more successful than others. Now, it was Luna’s moment to shine— or falter. The members crowded together on her right side, their eyes gleaming with mischief.

[I’m not gonna lie… lowkey scared to be their friend]

[like the dirt they must have on each other… chile]

They had one job: to get her heart rate to spike, and they were going to give it their all. The silence stretched for a beat before Jeonghan, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a grin. “Remember when Luna almost tripped on stage during our debut showcase? She blamed it on the stage lights.”

[A FUCKING MENACE]

[leave my baby alone 🥺]

Joshua chuckled, adding, “Yeah, and the way she tried to play it off like nothing happened? Amazing.” Luna’s lips twitched slightly, but she remained composed, her breathing steady.

Hoshi, not one to be outdone, chimed in. “Or that time during our trainee days when she tried to sneak extra snacks into the dorms? She thought no one noticed, but we all saw her stash in the fridge.”

[she’s adorable pls]

“She tried to bribe us with those snacks so we wouldn’t tell on her?” Seungkwan added, his voice tinged with laughter.

Woozi, with a rare smirk, joined in, “And the way she panicked when the trainers started asking why we were all so energetic during practice?”

“She’s shameless!” Seungkwan pointed at Luna. “Till this day, nobody knew she was sneaking food.”

[MY CLIENT IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!]

The members burst into quiet laughter, the sound filling the room as they continued their playful banter. Luna, despite the barrage of teases and memories, remained still, her heart rate holding steady.

Dokyeom leaned in closer, his voice soft but clear, “Do you remember that one time when we were practicing late, and noona fell asleep on the practice room floor? We all left her there because we didn’t want to wake her up.”

[What is wrong with them honestly?]

[THEY LEGIT LEFT HER]

[I would have never spoke to them for a month]

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “She was so embarrassed the next morning, that she couldn’t look any of us in the eye for days.”

Luna’s calm facade wavered ever so slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she was fighting back a smile.

[SHE’S SO FUCKING CUTE HELP]

The members exchanged glances, sensing they were close to breaking her. Hoshi leaned over, his voice a mock whisper, “Do you think she’s actually asleep right now? Or is she just pretending just like the time she didn’t want to practice?”

[BAHAHAHAHHAAHA]

[Thats the dance leader in him]

There was a pause, a collective breath held, as they waited for any sign that they had finally cracked her resolve. But Luna, ever composed, maintained her steady breathing, refusing to let them win so easily.

[Luna really said: 😴]

Jeonghan, seeing the challenge in her unwavering calm, leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “I broke your Wall-E Lego.”

[He wants to die I’m afraid]

The members laughed at his confession, knowing how precious Luna’s Legos are to her.

“I dropped it,” Jeonghan added before continuing, “His eye popped off.”

“There has to be missing pieces for sure.” Wonwoo added, smirking.

[I’D GO FERAL]

[they love to tease her it’s actually insane]

The room fell silent, the members watching with bated breath as they waited for her reaction. But Luna remained still, her heart rate steady, her expression serene.

[She’s iconic]

[I actually thought she was sleeping at first when I watched this]

The room was filled with a mix of disappointment and playful frustration as the members realized they are failing to faze Luna.

Seungkwan, ever the expressive one, was the first to voice their collective thoughts. “Seriously, how is she so thick-skinned?” he groaned, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. “It’s like nothing gets to her!”

[IT’S A SKILL]

[she’s just THAT bitch]

Joshua nodded in agreement, his arms crossed as he leaned back. “It’s going to be impossible to beat her. She doesn’t even flinch.”

“It goes in ear and out the other.”

“Maybe she’s actually sleeping.”

“No, she smiled earlier.”

[THE FACT THAT THEY WERE MOSTLY COMPLAINING IS HILARIOUS TO ME]

“Ya, Jiyeon-ah,” Jeonghan said, using her real name with a teasing lilt. “Are you even human? Cause yo–”

[istg he had a pick-up line after that!]

[YOU COULD VISIBLY SEE HIM STOP THE WORDS FROM SPILLING OUT HIS GODDAMN MOUTH]

[don’t be a lady part Jeonghan fucking say it!]

[that would have gotten her heart rate going 😪]

The playful banter continued, the members tossing ideas back and forth on how to get through Luna’s seemingly impenetrable exterior. It was all in good fun, a testament to how well they knew each other after years of working and living together.

Then, amid the lively chatter, Mingyu, who had been quietly observing, suddenly spoke up. His tone was light, but there was a hint of something more serious beneath it as he called out, “Noona, do you know I have a crush on you?”

[WHEN I TELL YOU I FELL OF MY DAMN BED WHEN I FIRST WATCHED THIS… I FELL FACE FIRST]

[Haters would say he was joking, his own members would say he was joking, Luna herself might say he was joking but I know damn well…]

[KIM MINGYU WAS SERIOUS]

[LOOK AT HIS FACEEEEE]

[LOOK. AT. IT.]

[HE WAS DEAD SERIOUS I’M BEING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW?!!]

[I AM THE BIGGEST JEONGNA SHIPPER BUT MINGNA IS A CLOSE SECONNNNNDDD]

The words hung in the air for a moment, the room falling into an abrupt silence.

[LOOK]

[LOOK AT HOW SHOCKED THEY ALL FUCKING LOOKED]

[AINT NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY]

Luna’s heart rate monitor pulsed noticeably faster, betraying the calm demeanor she had maintained so well. Her fists clenched slightly, and though she quickly composed herself, the spike in her heart rate had already given her away.

The other members immediately reacted, their voices rising in a chorus of playful “ooohs” and shrieks. They leaned back, clapping and laughing as if they were in on a well-played joke, but there was an underlying current of knowing in their eyes.

[LOOK AT HOW THEY WERE ALL EXCHANGING LOOKS]

[AM I INSANE?!? TELL ME I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS!?]

They knew Mingyu for years, they all grew up and trained together. This wasn’t just a joke, but a carefully veiled truth that they all understood, yet chose to play off lightly.

“Ya, Mingyu-ya!” Seungkwan shouted, pointing at him with a wide grin. “You really went there, huh?”

“That’s one way to get her heart rate up!” Hoshi added, his laughter contagious as he nudged Minghao.

[They all acting sus as fuck]

Luna, despite the playful atmosphere, could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. She knew Mingyu well enough to sense the sincerity behind his words, but this wasn’t the time or place to delve into it. They had to keep it light, for the sake of the fans watching and to avoid any unnecessary rumors.

[JIYEON IS FIGHTING DEMONS RN]

[QUEEN SHIT THO, SHE DID NOT FLINCH AT ALL]

The other members continued to laugh and tease, creating a buffer of lightheartedness that allowed the moment to pass without it becoming too serious. But beneath the surface, there was an unspoken understanding between them all— especially between Luna and Mingyu. They played it off well, but the truth had slipped through, even if just for a moment.

As the laughter and playful teasing from the group began to die down, a subtle shift in the atmosphere could be felt, though it went unnoticed by most.

[GUYS I’M BEING SO FR RIGHT NOW. THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE!]

[the awkward tension!!! It was very much there!!]

[Now let us visit exhibit A: Jealous Yoon Jeonghan]

Amid the chaos of Mingyu’s sudden “confession” and Luna’s reaction, Jeonghan sat quietly in his place, his usual playful demeanor subdued. His eyes were trained on Mingyu, a gaze that held a depth of thought that contrasted with the lightheartedness of the moment.

[ZOOM IN ON FUCKING JEONGHAN RN]

[I– AM UNWELL]

[bro– istg this is not normal behavior]

[the fact that some people just dismiss this as Jeonghan’s normal tired self… he’s pissed bro]

Jeonghan wasn’t one to miss details, and he had seen the way Mingyu’s expression had flickered with something more than just playful banter when he had uttered those words to Luna. The easy-going grin, the way his eyes had softened just a fraction—Jeonghan knew Mingyu well enough to recognize when there was truth hidden beneath a joke.

The others were still caught up in the aftermath of the confession, their voices a mix of lingering laughter and exaggerated exclamations. Seungkwan was playfully pretending to faint in the background, clutching his chest dramatically, while Hoshi was nudging and whispering to Dino as if the two were plotting the next way to get Luna’s heart rate to spike even further.

But Jeonghan was silent, his mind replaying the moment in his head. Mingyu’s words had caught everyone off guard, but none more so than him.

[bro is pouting hard rn]

[JEONGHAN GET TF UP]

Jeonghan’s gaze shifted, landing on Luna, who was still trying to shake off the surprise of the moment. She still had her eyes closed accompanied by a subtle smile, playing along with the rest, but there was a subtle tension in the way her shoulders were held, a slight stiffness that hinted at the unexpectedness of Mingyu’s words.

[GOOD GOD. LOOK AT HIM STARING AT HER LIKE THAT]

[Jiyeon I love you girl but move it’s my turn]

Luna, meanwhile, had finally managed to get her heart rate back under control, though the earlier spike had been significant enough to cause some lingering amusement among the members.

The lights brightened slightly, signaling the end of her three minutes. The members groaned in mock defeat, their attempts to fluster her unsuccessful. Luna opened her eyes, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips as she sat up, meeting their disappointed gazes with a knowing look.

[look how disappointed they are]

[SHE IS THAT BITCH]

“Ya!, Kim Mingyu,” Luna finally said, her voice steady but with a playful edge. “Stop lying! People will get the wrong idea.”

[gurl you know damn well…]

[what ever makes you sleep at night i guess]

She cast a quick glance at Jeonghan, catching his eye for a split second before she looked away. Jeonghan met her gaze, his expression unreadable.

[GOOD LORD HOW AWKWARD]

[Mingyu looking at Luna, Luna looking at Jeonghan, Jeonghan looking at Luna]

[and that ladies and gentlemen is how the triangle was formed]

190927 FANSIGN

The fan sign event was in full swing, the room alive with the buzzing excitement of fans and the playful banter of SEVENTEEN. The line of fans snaked around the venue, each one eagerly waiting their turn to interact with the members.

After fixing her hair, Luna grabbed the mic in front of her, ready to greet the fans and ask them some questions.

[Sidenote: LOOK HOW HOT SHE LOOKS 😫]

[she’s unreal, no wonder she’s in a love triangle]

Luna spoke into her microphone, but no sound came out. Frowning slightly, she tried again, but the mic stubbornly remained silent. The fans closest to the stage noticed the mishap and giggled, anticipating what would happen next.

Before Luna could react, Jeonghan and Mingyu, seated on either side of her, simultaneously lifted their mics towards her. The movement was so synchronized it was almost as if they had rehearsed it. The fans erupted into screams, the sound filling the room and making the air vibrate with excitement.

[*Googles “how to be Bae Jiyeon”*]

[IT’S HOW FAST THEY REACTED TOO]

Luna looked to her left, where Jeonghan held his mic out with a calm, knowing smile on his face. She then glanced to her right, where Mingyu, with his warm, boyish grin, was holding out his mic just as eagerly. It was clear neither of them was backing down, both were determined to be the one to help her out.

[They were like: choose, miss thing]

A smile tugged at the corners of Luna's lips as she realized the predicament she was in. Choosing one mic over the other would only fuel the playful rivalry between Jeonghan and Mingyu, and she had no desire to fan those flames, especially not in front of a room full of screaming fans who were already speculating.

[She has all the power]

[do you see that smirk?! she is enjoying this way too damn much]

[I mean— I guess I would too if I were her]

With a playful shrug, Luna decided to use both mics. She leaned forward slightly and spoke into Jeonghan's mic first. "Hello, everyone!" Her voice echoed through the venue, amplified by both mics. The fans went wild, their screams of excitement growing louder.

Luna then shifted slightly to speak into Mingyu's mic, "How are you all doing today?" The sound of her voice blended perfectly as if she had been given a microphone on each side just for this moment.

Jeonghan and Mingyu didn't drop their mics, both holding them steady as Luna continued. She adjusted her position, addressing the fans directly, her voice clear and bright, carried effortlessly by both microphones.

[They both don’t mind being mic stands either]

[OH LAWD… IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK?!]

"Did you guys eat before coming here? What did you guys have for lunch today?" Luna asked casually, her gaze scanning the crowd.

The fans responded in a chorus of different answers, their excitement palpable as they tried to shout over one another to be heard.

"Bibimbap!"

"Ramen!"

"Chicken!"

Luna laughed, a sound that made the fans cheer even louder. "Oh, that sounds delicious! Did you save some for us?" She teased, earning another wave of enthusiastic responses.

[She’s such a flirt. I love her.]

"Yes!"

"No!"

"We'll buy you some!"

Luna's eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned a little closer to Jeonghan's mic, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "So, which one of you brought me snacks?"

[SHE IS FLIRTING FOR SNACKS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!]

The fans erupted into laughter, with some frantically waving bags of snacks in the air, trying to catch her attention.

Luna chuckled and then turned slightly to speak into Mingyu's mic, her expression still playful as she cooed. "You guys are the best! Seriously, how did I get so lucky to have fans like you?"

[GURL– WE ARE LUCKY]

The fans collectively swooned, their cheers a mixture of adoration and admiration.

As Luna wrapped up her conversation with the fans, she finally let out a small laugh. "Thank you, Hannie oppa, Gyu-gyu," she said, turning to each of them with a grateful smile. "I think I’m all done now."

Only then did Jeonghan and Mingyu lower their mics, both of them mirroring each other’s actions with a blend of reluctance and amusement.

[WALK EM LIKE A DOG, BITCH! WALK EM LIKE A DOG]

[Jeonghan and Mingyu: “Say less.”]

The fans, ever attentive, noticed the slightly playful competitive looks they gave each other in their eyes as they watched Luna, but she seemed blissfully unaware, too busy enjoying the moment with her fans.

[She’s either clueless or she knows and is enjoying it]

[I am betting for the latter 🤭]

The event continued, but that moment became one of the highlights of the day, a small but telling interaction that fans would replay over and over, analyzing every glance, every smile, and every word exchanged between the three.

'BE THE SUN' WORLD TOUR IN SEOUL DAY 2: 220626

The energy in the ‘Gocheok Sky Dome’ was electric, the air thick with the joyous screams of thousands of CARATs who had gathered to witness SEVENTEEN's 'Be The Sun' world tour, Day 2 in Seoul. The night had been a whirlwind of emotions, with the group delivering powerful performances, heartwarming speeches, and a connection with their fans that was almost tangible.

[Guys, ‘Be The Sun’ has a special place in my heart]

[My first ever concert 🥹]

Now, during their never-ending ‘VERY NICE’, the members were running around the stage, singing, jumping, and interacting with the fans in a carefree, playful manner. The music was lively and blaring, fueling the excitement in the stadium.

[I swear this song gives them ptsd]

Luna, her energy as radiant as ever, was at the edge of the stage, her bright smile never fading as she waved to the fans in the pit.

[This was one of my favorite encore outfits of hers]

She leaned over slightly, reaching out to touch the hands of those who were closest, unaware of the commotion that was starting behind her. The fans in the pit, their eyes widening, began to signal her frantically, pointing and mouthing words she couldn’t quite catch over the deafening noise.

[Not them warning her 🤣]

[Jiyeon is confused as fuck]

Behind her, Mingyu was creeping up with a mischievous grin, one finger pressed to his lips to silence the fans who were trying to warn Luna. In his other hand, he held an open water bottle, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim as he tiptoed closer.

[HE IS SO HOT]

[AND SO ANNOYING]

The fans who noticed his approach were caught between excitement and anxiety, torn between letting Luna in on the prank or watching the chaos unfold.

Finally, Mingyu was right behind her. In one swift move, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. Luna let out a surprised shriek, instinctively knowing what was about to happen. She tried to twist away, but Mingyu held her firmly, his grin widening as he lifted the water bottle above their heads.

[HAND PLACEMENT! HAND PLACEMENT!]

[Gyu’s large arms around Jiyeon’s tiny waist 🥵]

“Ya!” Luna exclaimed, her voice tinged with laughter as she realized there was no escape With no other option, she turned towards Mingyu, burying her face in his chest to avoid the inevitable drenching.

[She just accepted defeat]

[I mean… she has her face shoved in Mingyu’s chest… she won]

Mingyu, laughing, let the water cascade down over them, soaking them both.

[HOT. HOT. HOT.]

The fans erupted into cheers and laughter, loving every moment of the playful interaction between the two. When the water finally stopped, Luna was drenched, her hair sticking to her face, and her stage outfit clinging to her form.

[SHE IS SO HOT… have I said that already?]

She pulled away from Mingyu just enough to playfully punch him in the chest, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re the worst,” she teased, though her tone was light, full of affection.

Mingyu laughed, his deep voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. “You’re just mad because I got you first.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t waver. She grabbed the nearly empty water bottle from his hand and emptied the remaining content in Mingyu's face before she took off running, still dripping, in the opposite direction, her laughter trailing behind her.

[MISS MAAM DIPPED]

Mingyu watched her go, shaking his head in mock defeat, but the playful pout on his face revealed his amusement.

Unbeknownst to them, Jeonghan had been watching the entire scene unfold. He was standing a few meters away, his right arm in a red decorated cast due to his recent elbow injury. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes followed Luna as she ran, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

[Jeonghan acting like he wasn’t watching]

[Pls, sir you got caught in different angles]

As Luna slowed down, she noticed Jeonghan standing nearby, and her smile softened when she saw him. He motioned for her to come over with a single nod, and she obliged, still catching her breath from the impromptu water fight.

[THAT NOD 🥵]

[he… is so fine. like, the aura, the charm, the confidence]

[How can a single nod be so fucking attractive?!]

Jeonghan met her halfway, his gaze briefly flickering towards Mingyu, who was still lingering nearby, before settling on Luna. Despite his injury, he gently lifted the sleeve of his good arm and began wiping the water from her face. The soft fabric of his sleeve carefully absorbed the droplets, his touch as delicate as ever.

[I AM UNWELL RN]

[I am just speechless]

“You’re a mess,” Jeonghan said, his tone a mix of fondness and exasperation. He continued to wipe her face, his movements slow and deliberate.

Luna chuckled softly, her gaze meeting his. “Blame that overgrown child over there,” she said, nodding towards Mingyu, who was now watching them with a mock pout, clearly feeling left out.

Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. He used his fingers to gently push the wet strands of hair away from her face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

[They are actually insane]

[In front of the entire stadium bitch]

“You should have seen it coming,” he teased, though there was a warmth in his eyes that softened the playful reprimand.

Luna hummed in response, her gaze flicking to Mingyu and then back to Jeonghan. “You’re probably right. I should have.”

Jeonghan chuckled, not bothering to move away until he finished his task. The fans, who had been watching the entire interaction, were going wild, capturing every moment on their phones, their cheers growing louder by the second.

[He was fixing his hair so gently and seriously 🥹]

[They are not okay for my mental health]

Finally, Jeonghan stepped back, satisfied with his work. “There. All better.”

“Thanks, Hannie oppa,” Luna said softly, giving him a grateful smile. She then turned back to Mingyu, raising a filled water bottle in her hand. “Where is he? Kim Mingyu…”

Mingyu’s eyes widened in mock horror, and before Luna could take another step toward him, he took off running, his laughter echoing across the stage as the encore continued, leaving the fans with yet another unforgettable moment

[He deserves it]

[I am actually surprise how none of them tripped with how much water they threw around]

LUNA'S LIVE 190518

The screen lit up with the familiar sight of Luna sitting cross-legged on her hotel bed, her hair slightly damp from the shower she had just taken after their concert in Japan. The room was cozy, the soft glow from a bedside lamp casting a warm light over her as she adjusted the camera for her Weverse Live. She was dressed casually in an oversized hoodie, the fabric swallowing her petite frame, and she was completely barefaced, giving her a relaxed, natural appearance.

[She is simply unreal]

[A literal angel amongst us]

"Hello, my beautiful CARATs!" Luna greeted, waving at the camera with a bright smile. The comments began to flood in almost immediately, the fans clearly excited to see her.

[HELLO, MY LOVE 🥹💕]

She read a few aloud, laughing at their enthusiasm. "'Did you enjoy the concert?' Yes I did. We had so much fun tonight Japan is always so welcoming, and your energy was amazing."

As she continued to chat with the fans, answering questions about the concert and how the members were doing, Luna suddenly sighed dramatically, resting her chin in her hand. "You know," she began, her tone playful, "it's kind of lonely doing this live alone. I miss having someone here to talk to…"

[She’s talking to fans yet she misses her members 🥺]

[baby. she is a baby]

The comments section exploded, fans urging her to invite one of the members to join her. The suggestions varied wildly, with each fan rooting for their bias to appear on the screen.

"Oh? You want me to invite one of the members?" Luna's eyes sparkled with mischief as she considered the idea. "Who should I call? Let's see… Jeonghannie-oppa might be asleep already," she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "You know how he is with his beauty sleep."

[The beauty sleep is working for sure]

[That man is beautiful]

She laughed at the flood of comments agreeing with her. "Hao, Woozi, and Wonwoo are sleeping for sure. The rest are probably eating dinner. Who should I invite? Hmm, Mingyu?… I bet he’s either eating or just finished eating but he's awake for sure. Should we give him a call?"

[YES PLEASE]

The fans reacted immediately, spamming the chat with enthusiastic approvals. Luna grinned as she picked up her phone and dialed Mingyu's number, switching to speaker mode so everyone could hear.

After a few rings, Mingyu's deep, groggy voice came through the speaker, causing the fans to go wild. "Lulu-ya?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

[WOOF WOOF BARK BARK]

[I’m simply no more]

Luna's eyes widened in mock horror since she clearly woke him up. She then quickly cut him off before he could say anything that might embarrass them both. "You're on speaker, Gyu. I'm doing a live right now." She laughed, her tone teasing but affectionate.

[She didn’t want him saying shit]

[What does he normally say and how do they normally talk?!]

There was a brief pause on the other end as Mingyu processed what she said. "Ah, really? On live?" His voice perked up a bit, and the fans could hear the rustle of blankets as he presumably sat up. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

[His voice 🫦]

Luna chuckled, the sound soft and melodic. "I’m telling you now! Come over to my room and join me, or the fans might riot."

[Accurate]

Mingyu’s reply was immediate. "I’m on my way."

[Anything for her… I am in my knees]

There was a beep as he ended the call, and Luna grinned at the camera, her excitement evident. "He’ll be here in a minute, guys," she informed the fans, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

[If Kim Mingyu is headed to me I’d be that excited too]

True to his word, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door, and moments later, Mingyu appeared in the frame, his hair tousled and his eyes still a bit sleepy but filled with warmth.

[GOD DAMN THIS MAN IS FINE]

"Hello, CARATs!" Mingyu greeted the fans with his signature bright fanged smile as he settled on the bed beside Luna, the two of them huddling close to fit within the camera frame.

"Sorry if I look a little sleepy… someone woke me up from my nap," he teased, nudging Luna gently.

[stfu bet you were waiting for her to call, simp]

Luna giggled, shaking her head. "When Gyu-gyu sleep it’s like he's hibernating."

[GYU-GYU 🥺]

[I always love the pout on her lips when she calls him that]

The fans loved the banter, and the comments were flooded with hearts and playful teasing. As they continued the live, answering questions from the fans, many began to notice the way Mingyu’s gaze kept lingering on Luna. His eyes followed her every movement, his expression soft and almost protective.

[SOMEBODY SEDATE ME]

[I don’t know who I want to be 😩]

[I know… MOVE, JIYEON IT IS MY TURN]

[she is living the dream. To be stared at by Mingyu like that]

The fans, ever observant, quickly filled the chat with comments about Mingyu’s intense stare. "Luna-unnie, Mingyu-oppa is looking at you like he’s in love!" one comment read, followed by a string of heart emojis.

[THANK YOU TO WHOEVER COMMENTED THAT]

Luna, catching sight of the comment, laughed nervously. "Aigoo, don’t say that! You’ll make Gyu embarrassed." She glanced at Mingyu, who just smiled, not denying anything but not confirming it either, which only made the fans go crazier.

[He doesn’t even bother say anything let alone defend himself]

Just as Luna was about to address another question, her phone started ringing, cutting through the conversation. She glanced at the screen and saw Jeonghan's name flashing. "Oh, hold on, guys," she said, answering the call but not putting it on speaker. "Oppa?"

[I am not kidding when I say I knew it was Jeonghan from just that alone]

Jeonghan's voice was a little muffled, but the fans could still hear the deep, groggy tone as he spoke. "Jiyeonie, what are you doing?"

Luna smiled softly, a hint of affection in her eyes. "I’m doing a live right now. Do you want to say hi to the fans?"

There was a brief pause before Jeonghan responded. "Sure, put me on speaker."

Luna switched to speaker mode, holding the phone up for the camera. "Jeonghannie oppa wants to say hi, everyone!"

[she’s so excited]

"CARATs, hello," Jeonghan greeted, his voice still thick with sleep, but the fans could hear the smile in his tone. His deep, raspy voice sent a wave of excitement through the chat, the comments section lighting up with greetings and heart emojis.

[LUNA IS INE LUCKY MOTHERFUCKER TO HEAR THEIR MORNING VOICES LIKE THAT]

As they exchanged a few pleasantries, Mingyu, who was still sitting beside Luna, answered a fan's question about the concert. "Yeah, the energy tonight was incredible," he said, his voice warm and genuine.

[Jealous Jeonghan in 3…2…1…]

Jeonghan, still on the phone, caught the sound of Mingyu’s voice. "Who’s that?"

[AHHHHHHHHHJENUEGEHNEYEBUDBSJ]

Luna blinked, glancing between the phone and Mingyu. "Oh, it’s Mingyu. I invited him to join me."

[I BET YOU ALL THAT I HAVE THAT JEONGHAN WAS POUTING]

There was a brief pause on Jeonghan's end before he hummed softly, the sound low and contemplative. "Why didn’t you invite me?"

[SIR–]

[look at her face… she knows]

Luna bit her lip, sensing a bit of teasing in his tone, but knowing Jeonghan, there was probably a hint of something more that the fans seemed to pick up.

“I didn’t want to wake you up, Hannie." She said.

"And it was okay for you to wake me?" Mingyu joked.

[you came running anyways babes]

"You can always leave." Luna sassed back calling out his bluff.

[Called him out 🤣]

Jeonghan hummed again, this time with a slight chuckle. "I’m awake now… I’ll come over too."

[He really said: “Luna alone with Mingyu?”🏃‍♂️💨]

The announcement caused another flurry of excited comments from the fans, many of them thrilled at the prospect of having both Jeonghan and Mingyu in the same live with Luna.

Luna laughed softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Alright, oppa, come over. We’re just chatting with CARATs."

As they waited for Jeonghan to arrive, the live continued with Luna and Mingyu answering more fan questions, their banter easy and comfortable. Despite the playful atmosphere, the fans couldn’t help but notice the underlying tension, especially with the way Mingyu’s gaze would occasionally drift towards Luna, his expression softening as he watched her interact with the fans.

[MINGYU BABE… SNAP OUT OF IT]

[he is drooling💀]

[he isn’t even trying to hide it anymore]

[Kim Mingyu.exe has stopped working]

When Jeonghan finally arrived, dressed in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled from sleep, the dynamic in the room shifted. He slid onto the bed beside Luna, his presence immediately felt. The three of them squeezed together to fit into the frame, and the fans went wild at the sight of the trio together.

[How can he be hot and cute at the same fucking time?]

"Hi," Jeonghan greeted the fans again, his voice now fully awake and filled with his usual charm.

[BABYYYYY HIIIIII]

The fans were quick to comment on the contrast between his earlier groggy tone and his current bright energy. As the live continued, the interaction between the three of them was light and playful, but the fans couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more simmering beneath the surface.

Whether it was the way Mingyu and Jeonghan seemed to subtly compete for Luna’s attention or the occasional shared glance between Luna and Jeonghan, the tension was palpable, leaving the fans on the edge of their seats, eager to see what would happen next.

[this live was just them trying to fight for her attention]

AIRPORT JEALOUSY

[And now I present to you this iconic airport clip]

[I would like to name this piece of art ‘The Jealous and the Protective’]

[Enjoy]

The airport was a flurry of activity as SEVENTEEN made their way through the bustling terminal. The members moved together as one, a unit that had been through countless travels, but this time there was an extra level of intensity.

Fans had gotten wind of their departure for the U.S., and now the airport was swarming with people eager to catch a glimpse of their idols. A barrier of bodyguards and security flanked them on all sides, creating a protective bubble as they navigated through the sea of fans.

[On a real note y’all really need to stop swarming them]

Cameras flashed incessantly, capturing every moment, every smile, every wave. The members, ever the professionals, bowed politely and waved to their fans, their faces calm and composed despite the chaos surrounding them.

The air buzzed with energy, screams of fans echoing off the walls, their voices blending into a high-pitched cacophony that only seemed to grow louder with each step the group took.

In the middle of it all was Luna, walking close to Mingyu, who was at her side like a protective shadow.

[shadow, my shadow, my shadow~]

They were in the midst of a conversation, their heads tilted slightly towards each other to hear over the noise. Luna's expression was relaxed, a small smile playing on her lips as she listened to whatever Mingyu was saying.

[IN FRONT OF EVERYONE]

Suddenly, the crowd surged forward, and Luna was caught off guard. The push was unintentional, a result of fans pressing forward for a better look, but it was enough to make her stumble. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she felt herself losing balance.

Before she could react, Mingyu’s hand shot out, his grip firm and reassuring as he caught her by the arm, pulling her closer to him. "Whoa, careful," he murmured, his voice low but clear over the din. His other hand instinctively went to her back, steadying her as they continued to walk.

[HAND PLACEMENT!!!]

The concern in his eyes was evident, his protective nature coming to the forefront. From his position ahead of them, Jeonghan witnessed the entire exchange. His pace faltered for a brief moment as he glanced back, his sharp eyes taking in the scene.

[ISTG BRO JEALOUS JEONGHAN IS JUST SO HOT]

The sight of Mingyu holding Luna so closely stirred something within him, a flash of emotion that flickered across his usually serene features. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but for those who knew him well, it was unmistakable— a mixture of jealousy and protectiveness simmering beneath the surface.

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed slightly as they locked onto Mingyu’s hand on Luna’s arm. His gaze softened when it shifted to Luna, who was now securely in Mingyu's grasp, her expression still calm despite the near fall.

[🫠🫠🫠]

Without breaking stride, Jeonghan did something that only someone as effortlessly cool as him could pull off— he lifted his hand slightly and, without even glancing back, made a subtle 'come here' gesture with his fingers, a silent command meant only for Luna.

[HE IS SO HOT FOR THIS I SIMPLY CANNOT]

Luna didn’t hesitate for a second. It was as if she had been waiting for that very signal. Her eyes immediately caught the motion, and she reached out, her fingers slipping into Jeonghan’s hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

[no hesitation whatsoever which tells me this happens regularly]

Their fingers intertwined effortlessly, and with that, Jeonghan began guiding her forward, ensuring she was safe at the front of the group.

Mingyu, now trailing slightly behind, watched as Luna’s attention shifted to Jeonghan, their hands linked with an unspoken understanding. A pang of something unidentifiable passed through him, but he quickly masked it with a smile, maintaining his protective stance behind Luna, his hand still resting lightly on her back as if to say he was there if she needed him.

[She really has these men vying for her]

[Queen shit right there]

To the fans watching from the sidelines, the entire exchange was both mesmerizing and revealing. The sight of Jeonghan holding out his hand for Luna, the way she instinctively reached for him, and Mingyu’s immediate reaction to steady her— it all played out in a matter of seconds, but it spoke volumes.

Some fans squealed in delight, others exchanged knowing glances, and a few hurriedly typed out what they had just witnessed, already anticipating how the scene would blow up on social media. The protective dynamic between the three was undeniable, and the tension that simmered just below the surface was the kind that left everyone speechless.

GDA 2020

The ‘2020 Golden Disk Awards’ was one of the most anticipated events of the year, a night when the biggest names in K-pop gathered to celebrate their achievements and put on spectacular performances. The air buzzed with excitement as artists mingled backstage, rehearsed for their performances, and prepared to sit in the audience to watch the show unfold.

[THIS CLIP WAS LEGIT. ISTG MINGYU WAS GENUINELY PISSED]

[usually it is playful jealousy from the both of them but this time I think he was genuinely angry 👀]

SEVENTEEN, known for their stellar performances and impeccable teamwork, were seated together in the artist section, their eyes glued to the massive screens that hung above the stage. The cameras frequently panned across the audience, capturing the reactions of various groups and solo artists as they enjoyed the show.

Luna sat comfortably between Jeonghan and Mingyu. She was dressed in a sleek black dress that contrasted beautifully with the light makeup she wore. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she carried herself with the same quiet confidence that had earned her a special place in the hearts of Carats and K-pop fans alike.

[one of her best looks hands down]

The night had been filled with breathtaking performances and emotional speeches. The members were all in high spirits, applauding for their peers and exchanging whispered comments with each other. The group’s energy was infectious, and Luna, who was usually more reserved during such events, couldn’t help but feel the joy radiating from her bandmates.

[I’m sorry she just radiate bad bitch energy]

[untouchable fr]

As the night continued, the camera operator seemed to have a knack for finding the most candid moments. The large screens displayed close-ups of idols laughing, clapping, and reacting to the performances on stage. Suddenly, during a brief lull in the program, the camera zeroed in on Luna. Her face, initially unaware of the camera, was caught in a moment of serene focus as she watched the stage, her lips slightly parted in awe of the ongoing performance.

[LOOK AT HER!]

[SHE LOOKS CGI IN THERE]

The fans in the audience and those watching the live broadcast at home were quick to notice the shift. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, followed by an explosion of cheers as Luna’s face filled the screen. The noise caught her attention, and she turned to look at the big screen, only to realize that it was her own face staring back at her.

Her eyes widened in surprise before a radiant smile spread across her face. It was a smile that was both shy and charming, the kind that made hearts skip a beat. Luna’s reaction was pure and unfiltered, and the audience couldn’t get enough of it. The sound of fans screaming filled the venue, and the energy in the room surged as more fans joined in, their voices merging into a singular, resounding cheer.

[god took his time with her]

[I know her parents high five when they see her face]

[I just know she was made with love and not just a quick nut]

[I’ll stop.]

The members of SEVENTEEN noticed the shift as well. Seungkwan, always the expressive one, clapped enthusiastically, nudging Joshua and pointing at Luna on the screen. Hoshi joined in with a playful smirk, mouthing something to the camera as if to say, “Isn’t she great?” The rest of the members followed suit, their faces lighting up with pride and affection for their female member.

[I need friends that supportive]

[they are her biggest fans 🥹]

Jeonghan, who had been quietly watching the screen, leaned in closer to Luna. His expression was soft, his gaze lingering on her as if the rest of the world had faded away. The camera captured the moment just as Jeonghan mouthed a single word, his lips barely moving, but clear enough for any lip-reader to understand: “Beautiful.”

[HE SAID IT GUYS. IT IS PRETTY OBVIOUS]

Luna didn’t seem to notice Jeonghan’s words at first, her attention still partly on the screen, but Mingyu did. Seated on her other side, Mingyu’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments as he watched Jeonghan lean in close to Luna, whispering words that were meant only for her. The flicker of jealousy in Mingyu’s eyes was subtle, but for the eagle-eyed fans who knew him well, it was unmistakable.

[till this day, I want to know the tea behind this]

Mingyu shifted slightly in his seat, his hand tightening around the armrest as he fought to keep his expression neutral. The camera had moved on to another group, but the tension in their little corner of the artist section had not dissipated. Mingyu glanced at Jeonghan, who had now settled back into his seat, his gaze still fixed on Luna with that same adoring look.

The fans who were paying close attention to SEVENTEEN noticed the way Mingyu’s gaze darted between Luna and Jeonghan. It was as if he was trying to decipher what had just happened, his mind racing with thoughts that he couldn’t quite voice out loud. The competition between the two men for Luna’s attention had always been there, but tonight it seemed more palpable than ever.

As the next performer took the stage, Luna leaned back in her chair, her smile still lingering on her lips. She turned slightly to Jeonghan, who gave her a small, knowing smile in return. They exchanged a few words, their conversation hidden from the cameras, but their body language spoke volumes. Jeonghan’s posture was relaxed, and confident, as if he knew he had said the right thing at the right time.

[Guys I need the lore behind this. I am so serious]

Mingyu, on the other hand, was far from relaxed. He glanced at Luna, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to join the conversation, but it was clear that something was bothering him. The fans who were watching the broadcast from home picked up on it immediately, and social media began to buzz with speculation. Tweets and posts started flooding in, with fans dissecting every little interaction between the trio.

[TWITTER THIS DAY WAS JUST INSANE]

[you just had to be there]

As the show continued, the tension between Jeonghan and Mingyu didn’t go unnoticed by the other members of SEVENTEEN either. DK, ever the peacemaker, tried to engage Mingyu in conversation, distracting him with lighthearted jokes and comments. But even as Mingyu laughed along with DK, his eyes kept drifting back to Luna and Jeonghan.

[I am being serious when I say this, something happened backstage for sure]

At one point, Luna, feeling the weight of the attention on her, turned to Mingyu with a bright smile, asking him a question about the next performer. Mingyu’s expression softened instantly, his eyes lighting up as he responded, eager to be the focus of her attention once again. But the moment was fleeting, as the show’s host announced the next award category, drawing everyone’s attention back to the stage.

Jeonghan, ever the observant one, noticed the shift in Mingyu’s demeanor and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. He knew Mingyu well enough to understand what was going on, but instead of backing down, Jeonghan seemed more determined than ever to keep Luna’s attention on him. It was a subtle, unspoken battle, one that played out in smiles, glances, and whispered words that only the three of them could hear.

[Jeonghan and Mingyu: “Pick me. Choose me. Love me.” Or however the fuck that goes]

As the night drew to a close and the final awards were handed out, SEVENTEEN stood to applaud the winners, their voices blending with the rest of the audience in a chorus of cheers.

But even as they clapped and cheered, the tension remained. The fans, ever watchful, continued to document every little moment, every glance and smile that passed between Luna, Jeonghan, and Mingyu. The love triangle that had been simmering beneath the surface was now more visible than ever, and the fans couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

As the show finally ended and SEVENTEEN prepared to leave the venue, Jeonghan and Mingyu both moved to walk beside Luna. But this time, it was Luna who took control of the situation, linking her arms with both of them and pulling them close as they made their way out. The fans erupted in cheers as they watched the trio leave, their voices echoing through the venue.

[SHE HAS TWO ON A LEESH]

For Luna, the night had been a whirlwind of emotions, but she was blissfully unaware of the silent battle being waged for her attention. For Jeonghan and Mingyu, however, the competition was far from over. As they left the award show and stepped into the night, the tension between them lingered, a reminder that when it came to Luna, neither was willing to back down.

And for the fans, the story of SEVENTEEN’s love triangle had just added another chapter, one that they would be talking about for a long time to come.

And there we have it, a brief glimpse of the jealous moments between Jeonghan and Mingyu.

Comment down below what video I should do next! I can do anything SEVENTEEN related, from chaotic moments to videos of our favorite throupl– I mean triangle.

That’s all for now. Toodleloo~

comments…

@/lunababybae • 3 months ago ╰ that insomnia zero episode was just something else entirely.

@/saythename • 3 months ago ╰ MINGYU CONFESSING TO LUNA IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE!!

@/lalalunanova • 3 months ago ╰ istg look at 7:09 Jeonghan staring into Jiyeon’s soul.

@/jeonwoowonwoo • 3 months ago ╰ WATCH THE MEMBERS FACES WHEN MINGYU CONFESSED. THEY WERE ALL CAUGHT OFF GUARD.

@/mimilyemily • 3 months ago ╰ I am convinced the reason Luna stayed another round in the Insomnia Zero episode was because of what Mingyu said.

@/user624729262863 • 3 months ago ╰ Jeonghan breaking Jiyeon’s Wall-E Lego would have been my final straw tbh

@/kpopaddict555• 3 months ago ╰ you can’t convince me that the members weren’t trying to play Mingyu’s confession as a joke. YOU CANNOT!!

@/svtstan17• 3 months ago ╰ 8:00 they were all exchanging looks! Like I’m shocked they even kept this in the final cut.

@/sssssydnyyy • 3 months ago ╰ I am convinced these three are together 👀 don’t kill me. The evidence is right here.

@/mrsbaebae • 3 months ago ╰ 10:05 - 10:20 the fact that Mingyu and Jeonghan didn’t even bother dropping their mics and just kept holding it up for Luna till she finished talking is insane to me

@/jeongnanana • 2 months ago ╰ I AM IN PAIN RN. I LOVE JEONGNA WITH MY LIFE BUT FOR SOME REASON MINGNA IS TEMPTING ME AS WELL. SEND HELP FR.

@/shuashua17_ • 2 months ago ╰ jeonghan wiping the water off of Luna’s face and fixing her hair whilst having a injured arm is too much for me 🥹

@/gyusshadow • 1 month ago ╰ MINGYU’S HUGE ASS BICEPS WRAPPED AROUND JIYEON’S TINY WAIST MAKES ME WANT TO BE MANHANDLED BY HIM SO MUCH IT PHYSICALLY PAINS ME 🥵

@/oozoozwoozi6 • 1 month ago ╰ Gyu and Jeonghan’s morning voice in Luna’s live was simply life changing

@/donquixote • 1 month ago ╰ that Luna live should be renamed as “Watch as Tweedledee and Tweedledum fight for my attention.”

@/cutiesexylovely • 2 weeks ago ╰ JEONGHAN, LUNA, AND MINGYU IN GDA 2020 IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. CAUSE WTF WAS GOING ON THAT NIGHT FR!??

@/moonlight_1997 • 1 week ago ╰ Jeonghan leading Luna in the airport and Mingyu protecting her from the back screams throuple… I am sorry but it’s the truth 🤭

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Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse

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cedarmoonzz · 3 months ago

Note

Are you planning on writing a part 3 of between the bars????? <3 love uuuu

slow like honey ꪆৎ ˚⋅

continuation of: between the bars and once more to see you

fandom: gravity falls

ship: ford pines x reader

content: angst, making out, doomed relationship, mentions of sex, hurt/comfort

summary: unbeknownst to either of you, you both spend your final night together with stanford

Every anniversary for the past six years, without fail, you and Ford would go out to dinner. The tradition had started rather spontaneously. On your first anniversary, you had decided to forgo the usual gifts and opt for something more experiential. You chose a cozy little bistro near campus that served the most delectable pasta you’d ever tasted. The evening was simple yet perfect—filled with laughter, deep conversations, and the realization that you were embarking on something special.

Over the years, these dinners had become a touchstone. From greasy diners to hidden gems tucked away in the neighborhoods of Gravity Falls, each venue added a new layer to your shared story. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t expect Stanford to ask you out to dinner this time around. The routine felt like it might be breaking, perhaps due to the distance that had grown between you two. Yet, a small part of you held onto the hope that he would make the effort, just as he had every other year.

You stood before the scratched mirror in your bathroom, shifting your weight from foot to foot, the floorboards creaking beneath you. Your reflection stared back with a blend of uncertainty and anxiety, eyes flickering with the weight of the evening ahead. Ford should be coming up from the basement at any moment, and the thought sent another wave of nervous anticipation through you. You had dressed carefully for the occasion—your anniversary dinner—a night that demanded a touch of elegance. Clad in an outfit you had painstakingly pieced together from the second-hand shop by Greasy’s Diner, you hoped the thrifted treasures would suffice.

Boom.

You shut your eyes in frustration, the irritation gnawing at you as another tremor surged through the house. It was as if the very walls quaked in response to whatever Stanford was working on down there, deep in the basement. You could feel the reverberation in your bones, each crash and clatter below resonating up through the floors, making your knees tremble with the force of it. The sound wasn’t just noise—it was an intrusion, a relentless reminder of the chaos that constantly simmered beneath the surface of your life. You were tired of it, tired of feeling every impact three floors above, tired of the way the vibrations seemed to seep into your very being, leaving you on edge, unable to find peace even in your own home.

"Love is patient, love is kind," you mumbled to yourself, the words slipping from your lips like a mantra. You weren’t a religious person—never had been—but there was something about those words that clung to you in moments like this, offering a fragile thread of comfort. As the tremors from Stanford’s work below rumbled through the house, you shut your eyes in annoyance, your eyebrows scrunched up in frustration. Your fingers pressed against your temples, trying to steady the rising tide of irritation.

Boom.

You clenched your teeth at the second jarring crash, a sharp, involuntary reaction that echoed your mounting frustration. "It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud," you muttered, the words barely discernible through the tight grip of your molars, which ground together with an almost rhythmic intensity. The verses, typically a soothing balm, now slipped past your clenched teeth in a strained whisper as you furrowed your brows with even greater force. Your forehead creased into a landscape of deepening furrows, each thud from the basement resonating through your body like a series of small, electric shocks.

You pressed your palms firmly against your eyes, the warmth of your skin meeting the cool, smooth surface of your hands. Your fingers dug into the delicate flesh of your temples, as if seeking to erase the persistent, intrusive thuds from your mind. You leaned back and forth on your heels, the movement gentle yet rhythmic, like a pendulum swinging in a futile effort to find balance amidst the storm. The persistent tremors reverberated through your body, amplifying the agitation that simmered just beneath the surface, leaving you to cling desperately to the fleeting moments of calm you could muster.

"It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered—" The verse was abruptly cut off by a thunderous Boom from the basement. You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer. "Oh, fuck this!" you erupted, the words a raw release against the relentless din that had finally broken your patience.

“Ford!” you bellowed, your voice a raw, resonant cry of frustration that seemed to pierce the very air. With a furious swipe, you raked your fingers through your disheveled hair, the movement almost violent in its intensity. The bathroom door slammed shut behind you with a thunderous bang, the sound reverberating through the quiet cabin like an explosion of pent-up anger. You stormed down the stairs to the first floor, each footfall a heavy, defiant punctuation to your mounting rage. The rhythmic, thunderous stomp of your steps matched the pounding fury in your chest, each stride an urgent testament to your exasperation with the relentless, disruptive noise. "You better be ready down there!"

You slammed your palm against the wall of the hallway, the rusty button of the elevator beneath your hand giving way under the forceful impact. The metal creaked and groaned as it sank slightly, a stark reminder of your mounting frustration. The wall seemed to reverberate with the intensity of your outburst, the weight of your anger pressing down on every crevice and corner.

“Screw this! Screw his stupid portal, his idiotic rules, and screw him!" you fumed, a snarl curling your lips as you impatiently waited for the elevator doors to open. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on you—here you were, standing before the very elevator you had designed and built, now reduced to a mere gatekeeper to the "forbidden" basement below. The last time you had descended to that enigmatic lower level felt like a lifetime ago, but the memories flooded back as if it were yesterday. Back then, you hadn’t known that this creation of yours, this marvel of engineering, would one day become a barrier, a symbol of the very authority you now found yourself defying.

The whirring of the elevator mechanisms was almost taunting, each second stretching out as your frustration grew. But beneath that anger, a spark of anticipation flickered—this wasn’t just a return to a place you once knew; it was a challenge to the very constraints you had helped put in place.

As the doors finally slid open, your breath caught in your throat. Instead of the dim, empty hallway you expected, you were met with the imposing figure of Stanford. His presence filled the small space, his sharp eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was no escape now, no turning back—the gatekeeper wasn’t the elevator after all. It was him.

You pause, breath catching in your throat, as you take him in. Ford’s usual ensemble of a white button-down, tie, slacks, and lab coat has been cast aside in favor of a more commanding and intimate appearance. The white button-down remains, a familiar anchor in this transformation, yet the sterile lab coat has been replaced by a tailored black blazer. The fabric clings to his frame with a sensuous precision, tracing the contours of his shoulders and tapering around his midsection, creating a figure that seems both powerful and inviting, a magnet for the eyes. His shirt, once meticulously buttoned to the collar, now betrays a more relaxed demeanor. The top buttons are left undone, exposing a sliver of skin that hints at the warmth beneath, while his red tie, no longer neatly knotted, hangs loosely around his neck. It rests on his chest with a kind of deliberate carelessness, the bold color contrasting against the pale fabric, drawing your gaze.

His brown hair is tousled, strands falling just out of place, as if touched by the wind—or more likely, the consequence of his own distracted hands. This subtle disarray only adds to the intimacy of his appearance, a sign of his vulnerability beneath the polished exterior, inviting those who see him to look closer, to wonder what thoughts lie beneath the surface.

But it's not just his appearance that tells a story. His face is flushed, a deep crimson spreading across his cheeks and down his neck, as if he’s been caught off guard, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. He stands in the elevator, holding a bouquet of flowers, his eyes locking onto yours with a magnetic intensity. There’s an urgency in the way he holds himself, a tension in his posture that betrays a rush of emotion barely held in check. The sight of him like this—disheveled, out of breath, yet so achingly poised with that bouquet in hand— almost makes you laugh.

“[Y/n],” he says, still out of breath, his voice carrying a hushed intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. He extends the flowers towards you, his eyes skimming down your figure with an unmistakable admiration. "You... You look very beautiful." The words tumble out, raw and unguarded, his gaze lingering on you as if trying to commit every detail to memory. There's a vulnerability in his expression, a softness that contrasts with his usual composed demeanor.

The image of Ford standing in the elevator is a stark reminder of your first date all those years ago. You recall a younger Ford, clad in a sweater and slacks, nervously thrusting a bouquet of carefully wrapped lillies towards you as he stood at the foot of your apartment door. His face was as red as the blooms he held, a mixture of anticipation and awkward charm that made your heart flutter then, just as it does now.

Despite the passage of time, Ford remains fundamentally unchanged. You met nearly eight years ago, when you were both twenty years old, grouped together in an Advanced Quantum Dimensional Physics course on a project. Back then, his boyish charm was evident in every nervous smile and every hesitant gesture. Now, even beneath the weight of work and the stress that comes with it, that same charm endures.

"Thank you, Ford," you say, taking the bouquet with a soft smile. "What’s with all the noise? I was about to go down to the basement and beat your ass." Your tone blends relief with playful annoyance, adding a touch of levity to the otherwise tender moment.

Ford’s eyebrows raise, and he snaps out of his thoughts, his face flushing as he tears his eyes away from your form. He gives a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed by the chaos he’s caused. "Oh! Yes, my apologies. I was, um, looking for my car keys. And I seem to have knocked down a grand total of... three destabilizers? Maybe two particle accelerators.”

"Five pieces of high-tech machinery and we still can't afford a new dishwasher?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. Your tone is light, but there's a hint of exasperation mixed with amusement as you look at the mess.

“These are necessary purchases, my dear!” he huffs out a laugh, stepping out of the elevator with a charmingly disheveled grace. He extends his forearm toward you, a gesture both gallant and inviting. “Are you ready to go? Our reservation should be starting soon.” His playful grin and the warmth of his gesture make it clear that he’s eager to move past the chaos and enjoy the evening with you.

You take his arm, linking it with your own as you grin up at him. “As long as you agree to order a bottle of Cabernet for the table, I’m ready to leave when you are.” The easy familiarity of the gesture tugs at a longing inside you, a reminder of the effortless closeness you once shared. Lately, things have been strained between the two of you, and you’ve found yourself ruefully returning to your smoking habit in secret, having learned your lesson from the last time Ford caught you. You wonder if he can smell the smoke on your breath, if the scent lingers in your hair despite the deep conditioning you just underwent. The memory of smoking with a grocery bag tied over your head just two hours prior while re-reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar for the fifth time that year brings a pang of regret. You can’t help but feel a tinge of anxiety about whether this secret, this small escape, is detectable to the one person whose opinion matters most.

“Let’s make that two bottles, love,” Ford says with a smile that highlights the bags under his eyes. They’ve deepened, you notice, but he’s still impossibly handsome to you.

The car ride to the restaurant was enveloped in a serene silence, punctuated only by the soft strains of Fleetwood Mac’s newest single emanating from the 8-track tape you had insisted on playing. As the car glided through the wintry landscape, the world outside was a wintery tableau of stillness and quiet beauty. The darkness of the evening, settling in at 7 p.m., cast a soft, muted glow over the landscape. The trees, tall and skeletal, stood cloaked in a delicate blanket of snow, their branches heavy and laden with white. The ground beneath them was similarly covered, the snow pristine and unblemished, save for the occasional delicate track of a nocturnal creature.

The snowy expanse reflected the faint, ambient light of the car’s headlights, creating a shimmering, ethereal quality that danced across the landscape. The quiet was profound, only occasionally interrupted by the gentle crunch of tires over snow or the faint rustling of branches. The scene outside was serene and almost magical, a winter wonderland wrapped in a velvety cloak of darkness, enhancing the feeling of calm and intimacy within the car.

Stanford’s hand rests on your thigh, his left hand gripping the steering wheel while his right palm lies flat but carries a faint tension, as if it’s holding back something unspoken. It’s been two weeks since the night you shared in the snow and a month since his fallout with Fiddleford. Life has settled into a rhythm that feels both familiar and strained.

Despite his efforts to show his love—choosing to spend more nights with you rather than immersing himself in work on the portal—there’s an unmistakable edge to his presence. His hand, warm against your skin, still carries a subtle rigidity, a reminder of the underlying unease between you. His gazes linger longer than usual, and you’ve felt him study you with a mix of affection and concern. His eyes always narrow, as if trying to decipher something elusive about you.

Lost in the whirl of your thoughts, you’re only dimly aware as Stanford navigates the car to your destination. The vehicle glides into a snug parking space near the restaurant—the only refined dining spot in Gravity Falls, a testament to its understated elegance. The night’s darkness casts a soft glow on the restaurant’s exterior, hinting at the warmth and sophistication within.

Stanford’s deft hands turn the keys in the ignition, the engine’s hum fading into silence with a satisfying click. As the car stills, he turns to face you, his expression a blend of eagerness and intimacy. His gaze lingers on you, soft yet intense.

"I want to speak to you about something," he begins, his voice breaking through the silence left in the wake of Stevie Nicks’ fading melody. The suddenness of his words contrasts with the stillness in the car, his tone carrying a weight that pulls your attention fully to him.

Suddenly, your seatbelt feels constricting, as if it’s tightening around you, making it difficult to breathe. The air seems to thin as you take in his gaze, the intensity of his eyes pinning you in place, filling the space between you with a palpable tension. "About?"

Stanford reaches to unbuckle his seatbelt, the click of the release sounding louder in the quiet car. He turns toward you fully, his body shifting to close the distance. You instinctively move to do the same, freeing yourself from the confines of your own seatbelt, now facing him without any barriers between you. His eyes meet yours with a mixture of resolve and vulnerability as he speaks, "About what you asked me. If I'm... still in love with you." The words hang heavy in the air, the gravity of the moment pressing down on you both.

You say nothing, your breath catching as you stare into his eyes, feeling yours widen in surprise. The weight of his words settles over you, and your gaze falters, drifting down to your hands as they instinctively wring together in your lap. The silence stretches, heavy and charged, as you wait for him to speak, your heart pounding in the quiet space between you.

"[Y/n]," he mutters softly, but you don’t respond, your thoughts too tangled to form words. He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek in his palm, urging you to meet his eyes. "There is no one else on this earth who I love more than you." His voice is earnest, but as you look at him, you can’t help but notice how much older he seems—the streetlight streaming through the windshield casting harsh shadows that emphasize the worried wrinkles and dark circles beneath his eyes. "It pains me that you think otherwise," he continues, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin, his expression a blend of sorrow and love.

"And I know that this... project of mine has formed a rift between the two of us," he admits, his voice heavy with regret. His hand stays on your cheek, the warmth of his touch at odds with the cold truth in his words. "I’ve been cruel to you—cold. None of it would be possible without you. I just... wanted to inform you that I am in the process of dismantling the portal.”

His confession hangs in the air, a quiet revelation that sends a wave of shock through you. The project that consumed him, the very thing that had driven a wedge between you, was now being taken apart. His eyes search yours, seeking understanding, forgiveness, something that might ease the burden he’s carried alone for too long.

“Stanley is coming tomorrow to help me put an end to this blasted mess I've created," he adds, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words aloud makes them more real. The mention of Stanley, his estranged brother, only deepens the weight of his confession. You can see the turmoil in his eyes, a mix of relief and fear, etched deeply into his features. His expression is fraught with worry and trepidation, as if the enormity of what he’s undertaking has finally caught up with him. His hand remains steady on your cheek, but there’s a vulnerability in his gaze that you haven’t seen in a long time—a silent plea for your support and understanding as he faces this daunting task.

He looks worried, more scared than you’ve ever seen him before. There’s a tremor in his eyes and a depth to his expression that speaks of hidden fears. You know him better than you know yourself, and it’s clear to you that he’s concealing something. The anxiety etched into his features, the hesitation in his voice—it all points to a deeper truth he’s not yet revealing. The sense of something left unsaid lingers between you, an unspoken tension that underscores the gravity of his confession.

"Oh, screw it," you think, your heart swelling with joy despite the unspoken tension. You’re too overwhelmed with happiness to let the hidden fears or unspoken truths weigh you down. A radiant smile spreads across your face, transforming your expression into a broad, irrepressible grin. Leaning into his palm, you let the warmth of the moment wash over you. "No more late nights in the basement?" you ask, your voice light, as if the weight of the world has momentarily lifted. The joy in your tone contrasts with the earlier seriousness, cutting through the atmosphere like a breath of fresh air, and you bask in the simple, unadulterated relief of the news.

"No more late nights in the basement," he repeats, his voice carrying a note of relief as he takes in your smile. The tension seems to lift from his shoulders, replaced by a softer, more hopeful expression. "I also wanted to ask you something else," he continues, his gaze shifting to meet yours with a mix of earnestness and anticipation.

Your eyes widen just a fraction more as you absorb his words, a thrill of anticipation sparking within you. "What else?”

Ford’s face suddenly flushes a deep red, and he shifts uncomfortably, moving his hand from your cheek to tug nervously at the collar of his button-down. “I was, uh, thinking,” he begins, his voice wavering slightly, “Maybe, once this is all over, of course, maybe we can start preparations for the… for the wedding.” The words stumble out of him, each one laden with a mixture of hope and trepidation. The vulnerability in his gaze contrasts with the warmth of his earlier demeanor, as he waits for your reaction to his tentative forwardness.

You’re convinced you’ve never been more ecstatic to hear this man’s voice in your life. A joyous giggle bursts from your throat, escaping before you can even catch it. The realization that your endearing, slightly clueless fiancé will finally become your husband sends a wave of elation through you. Your heart is practically dancing with delight, overwhelmed by the sheer excitement and happiness. The world around you seems to shimmer with a new, vibrant energy, and every thought and worry melts away, leaving only the radiant joy of this moment.

Without a second thought, you practically leap from your seat into his arms. The car’s interior transforms into a haven of warmth and affection as you envelop Stanford in a cascade of kisses. His face, already flushed from his earlier nervousness, now lights up with genuine laughter, the sound rich and full, reverberating through the confined space. His arms come around you with a comforting firmness.

"Yes! Fucking finally, yes, Ford!" you laugh, your voice trembling with the sheer joy of the moment. Your hands cradle his face with a tenderness that feels almost sacred as you lean in, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. The warmth of his breath mingles with yours, and the kiss deepens, an intoxicating blend of exhilaration and relief that seems to transcend all the struggles you’ve faced. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer against him, fully settling you onto his lap. The lack of the car's heater does little to bother you as you nuzzle your face into Ford’s neck, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace.

Stanford laughs softly, his breath warm against your skin as he rubs your back soothingly. "Y/n, darling, we're going to miss our reservation," he murmurs with a gentle chuckle. The sound of his laughter reverberates through his chest, adding a comforting rhythm to the moment.

You pull away from the crook of his neck, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. Stanford’s hair is now a delightful mess from when you ran your fingers through it moments prior, with rebellious strands splaying out in charming disarray. The collar of his white button-down, once meticulously aligned, now tilts at an angle, as though in a state of blissful disarray. The black blazer, once a paragon of tailored precision, is now creased and rumpled from your shared embrace, the fabric bearing the intimate marks of your contact.

His red tie, previously a picture of neatness, now drapes at a rakish angle, adding an alluring quality to his look. The flush on his cheeks, deepened by the kiss, contrasts vividly with his slightly tousled appearance, while a faint, tender smudge of lipstick lingers at the corner of his lips. You gaze at him, overwhelmed by the fierce surge of love you feel. Despite the messiness, there’s an undeniable intimacy in his appearance, a tangible trace of the passionate moment you shared, making him look both endearing and irresistibly human.

“Forget the reservation,” you say in one breath, your voice breathless and urgent as you surge forward to capture his lips with yours once more. The words barely escape before your lips meet his, and the world outside melts away, leaving only the heated, intoxicating connection between you.

It didn’t last, the kiss. It was intense but fleeting, a fervent moment before Stanford gently pulled away, taking your hands in his. He lifted them to his face, pressing tender kisses to your fingers, to your palms. His expression was a heady mix of adoration and intoxication.

You couldn’t recall ever feeling so radiant, so utterly cherished.

“You are an absolute vision, my love,” Stanford murmured, his voice a soft reverence against the inside of your wrist. He kissed the delicate delta of veins there, his lips tracing a path to the center of your palm, each kiss a silent testament to his deep affection. “You look stunning, incredible—breathtaking. [Y/n], these past few months have been a torment without you by my side. Nothing has made me feel so alive as I do now, looking at you.” He laughed softly, a sound of pure joy, and pressed your hand to his chest. “Do you feel that? My heart is pounding.”

Miraculously, even through the layers of fabric, you could feel the thunderous beat of his heart. He wasn’t exaggerating; his pulse was racing. You took his hand and guided it to your chest, so he could feel your own heart racing in sync with his.

“Look at you,” you said, breathless and beaming. “Dashing, roguishly handsome in your suit. How am I going to keep my hands off you tonight?”

Stanford’s cheeks flushed so deeply that his blush was visible even in the dim light of the car. His eyes were heavy-lidded, and his voice was strained with longing as he replied, “Then don’t. Keep them off me, I mean,” he said, leaning closer, his mouth moving toward yours. “Hold me, touch me however you like…”

The temptation was almost unbearable. Dinner seemed a trivial pursuit compared to the desire to peel him out of his suit, to undress him slowly and explore every inch of his body. It had been far too long.

You leaned in, placing a tender kiss on his cheek before brushing your lips against his ear. “Maybe we should go back home first,” you suggested, pulling back and beginning to disentangle yourself from his embrace.

“That's not a bad idea,” Stanford says, his voice steadier now, though his cheeks still carry a hint of the earlier flush. He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, which had been askew from your earlier embrace. “We can order takeout for dinner. Although,” he adds with a playful glint in his eye, “I must admit, I find something else much more appetizing.”

#ford pines x reader #gravity falls #angst #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines #gf fandom #fiona apple #ford pines #fleetwood mac

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 months ago

Note

In that case… Could I please request Killer Croc/Waylon Jones with a supringly really attractive boyfriend (like a male version Jessica Rabbit level hot, like it dosen’t even make sense for someone to be that hot) who no one understand how Waylon pulled. Waylon’s boyfriend is very sultry and alluring.

And Waylon roughly breeds his boyfriend doggy style 😇.

Thank u :)

Waylon Jones x Male reader

Headcanons

Guten Abend squad, how is everyone doing? Classes are still running at a max level, and I’m starting to think this is just how it goes. So, time to chillax with some Waylon.

Not as smutty as I would have wanted, but this honestly just built a life of its own and started running.

We see in the comics, or at least in one run, that Waylon does have game and knows how to pull somebody very attractive, so its not too surprising so could pull you. That’s what you think at least, since he’s a great guy, to you.

I imagine you two met after he left the circus, maybe you guys even left together. With Waylon being the circus’s “freakshow” and you only being there as eye candy to sell tickets. With you both being reduced to nothing but your looks, you two find solidarity with each other, and fall in love.

No one ever really took your love seriously back then, just thinking you were using Waylon for protection, since someone as pretty as you couldn’t be safe anywhere.

Insert the “seriously, what do you see in that guy?” “he makes me laugh” scene.

If we go with the verse where Waylon was in Halys circus, then the only ones that seemed to have some version of acceptance of your love was the Grayson’s. it was one of the reasons you two left the circus, having a strong feeling of what had truly happened to them and who caused it.

After leaving the circus, you couldn’t live in the sewers like Waylon. This meant you got an apartment, in the beginning in crime alley since it was cheapest.

You may have been so beautiful it would drive people mad, but you also had a head on your shoulders. So, in the end you set up a legitimate business, maybe you even become something akin to a designer. Mainly because your lover is so big, there’s no other way to get him clothes.

And maybe during your time in crime alley, you stumble upon a scrawny kid who, though he may act tough, still has a light in him. And maybe that kid ends up being batman’s second robin, who remembers how kind you were to him and everyone around you, so he doesn’t go as hard against Waylon.

The past you have with the Grayson’s also means that Dick takes it easier on Waylon, and they even settle down and talk at times. You’ll regularly find the two former robins hanging around your art studio, even years later when they aren’t robin anymore.

Your lover goes to Arkham, a lot. But you never hate him or even argue with him. You’ll just pull up to Arkham in your most beautiful outfit during visitors’ hours and hold Waylon’s hand as you two act like a new married couple, even if it’s been twenty at this point.

And it may have been twenty years, but you just seem to have become more handsome with age, aging like fine expensive wine. You don’t become shrewd or corrupted by the world around you, instead you stay kind and patient. You’re still in Gotham though, so you’ll turn violent if you have too.

No one really believes that Waylon purrs, until you show up and he becomes as meek as a kitten, ready to roll in your manicured hand.

Its no secret that you, one of the most famous designers around, and Killer Croc, are together. But its just such a normal part of everyday life now, that no one really questions it. your works never been dirty, you help those around you, and lift up poor and struggling artists whenever you can. So, what if your husband is tearing up the road trying to bite Batman to bits.

Theres a viral video in Gotham of you stepping out during one of Waylon’s rampages, and just scolding him, wagging a finger in his face and still looking so unbelievably gorgeous as you do so.

And yes, of course your design trademark is crocodile scales, or anything along those lines. You’ll never use real crocodile skin, but you do use the print or shape.

After all this time, people don’t fear Waylon as much as they probably should, all thanks to you. Its kinda hard to fear a guy when you know his boyfriend is unofficially titled the most beautiful man in Gotham, who’s also as giving and kind as the Waynes, whilst being more involved in the nitty gritty, since you still live in Crime Alley.

Someone has threatened Waylon with telling on him to you at least once too, which doesn’t stop him, but it does cause him to freeze and get an “oh shit” expression, long enough for people to run to safety.

Being one of the most skilled fashionistas around also means you have met the Waynes on multiple occasions.

The shared past with Dick and the circus, and Jason, though you don’t remember him as vividly, means you get called on more than most.

As you measure them out and start making designs, conversations flow, and Damian most likely ends up bluntly just asking you why in the world you decided to pair up with Killer Croc of all people.

You correct him in your answer, referring to your husband as Waylon, and then you just start waxing the poetics. Of your shared past, of the deep unshakable love you both share, and how under all his struggles, Waylon truly is an amazing man.

You’ve never confirmed that Dick was Robin, even though it was very obvious. Its not your place to judge how he, or his family, deal with their trauma or whatever they have going on. Your lover swims through the sewers, you can’t really say anything.

A few passing comments are made though, obviously. You tell the Waynes to “take it easy next time they see Waylon, wont you?” with one of your heart shaking winks before you saunter out, ready to start putting together your latest design.

Its kind of an accepted, not really a secret, secret. Its never put into words, and they know that you know, and you know that they know you know. Nothing ends up happening with it though, outside of you making some jokes and judging their hero outfits.

With age you’ve become less sultry and alluring, at least in the way the public can point out as obviously as before. You have simply mastered your field, and know just how to play people around you if you need too.

Though, you didn’t really learn to master it for the public. It’s mainly just for Waylon, so you like to see how his nostrils flare, and when he starts chuffing in the back of his throat when you saunter around in nothing but a silk robe.

The bats know that the first place Waylon goes when he gets out of Arkham is to you. But…they also all know to wait at least a day or two before they come for him. To allow you to spend some time together, but also because most of them have caught of glimpse of you… reunions…

Bruce wont admit it, but he’s at least impressed with you being able to take two of them at the same time, even after all these years. He might note down your many skills somewhere… just in case.

Reunions with Waylon are typically a hot and steamy affair. Or well, as hot and steamy as a guy whose as cold as a reptile can get. There are days where either of you may not be up for it, and then its just cuddles and having some nice domestic time together before he’s taken back to Arkham again.

But when it does get hot, then you are very happy you own the entire building. Waylon can get quite loud, but never as loud as he still makes you even after all these years.

Sure, you’ve learned to handle it more after all this time, but it still makes you squeal when Waylon fits both his shafts inside you at the same time, lifting and moving you around like a doll.

Where Waylon may be rough and violent in every other part of his life, Waylon is slower and much more careful in the bedroom. He doesn’t want to lose his senses and hurt you on accident. You have some very faded bite and claw scars on your body, back from when you first got together, and Waylon likes to remind himself of that.

Sometimes you do want him to be rougher about it, so you pull all the skills you’ve gained over the years. And Waylon is but a man, even with the scales and all, so he can’t resist you for very long. It always ends up with you writhing, face in the pillow that’s stained with your tears and drool or pleasure, as Waylon growls and snarls behind you, his big, clawed hands moving you back and forth with ease.

He always feels a bit guilty about it afterwards, especially seeing how much you leak all over the sheets. Expect to find yourself being pampered and loved on for the next couple of days. Even the bats seem to leave you to it, most likely having heard your cries. You get a feeling the people in the next building heard them too. But you honestly don’t care anymore.

You may have Waylon, and many others, wrapped around your finger, but so does Waylon with you. And neither of you really seem to mind anymore.

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chevelleneech · 2 months ago

Text

semi-live blog

They are immediately the cutest fucking people when together. So soft, so giggly.

I know it’s part of their social culture, but they drink a lot. Maybe it’s because I don’t drink, but dang.

“Jungkook is currently doing his skincare.” They add to the screen after panning away for scenery, yet leaving the sounds of *slap slap slap*😭

Jungkook cycling through multiple pairs of sunglasses, and Jimin swanning in and picking the first pair is peak! They’re so similar I yet so different, lol.

Another thing I’m sure is part of their culture, is the way they pay for stuff, but I find it interesting still that we’ve seen Jimin buy almost everything during their trips, since as far as we know they have pretty lax hierarchy rules between the two of them normally.

Jungkook is in the most romantic moment of his life, lmao! “I love it here!!!” said a million times. That man was experiencing a real life Hallmark movie in his head.

I also thought they spoke/understood way more Japanese than they apparently do.

“Come on everybody!” I understood that reference.

The way they chose to animate over everything to avoid having to blur a billion people in the station is HILARIOUS!

Jimin is too funny bro.

This train ride is so peaceful, it’s selling me on visiting Sapporo despite being broke and not speaking a lick of Japanese.

Can we also discuss how “My man, my man, my man.” Jungkook is? Yet Jimin is too, and somehow both is more than the other, lol. They are perpetually on some, “Jimin will like this.” “Where’s Jungkook?” *films food, pans to Jimin* *films the outside world, pans to Jungkook* *cuddle even while walking* type stuff. Just lovesick.

Girl!dad Jimin confirmed🥰 He’ll be such a sweet dad too, I think. He’s so patient and kind, which is heavily required to raise another human.

I loooooooooe Jimin’s jacket dude.

The way Jimin immediately pivoted to making JK laugh when he tried to downplay himself. Like I said, “My man, my man, my man.” Don’t talk bad about his man, even if you are his man.

My most delusional Jikook theory you’ll ever hear from me: “Are You Sure?” actually became the title because they were asking it if each other, because they in looooooooooove.

Also, to answer my own question from my previous list… yes, the bubble is back.

Role play Jikook strikes again!

Jungkook is it slick! He played with that sip of whiskey the entire time, but the minute Jimin left he downed it.

Them forgetting to pay would’ve been me. And JK initially sending Jimin back to do it would have also been me. You got it, extrovert! Take the embarrassment for the both of us!

They’re so cute! This snow fight makes me want to be somewhere cold for the holiday☹️

The food always looks so damn good! Lord I’m jealous.

I need someone to compile all the times JM and JK go out to eat together, and let me know if Jimin is the one with his back always to the door? It’s a thing in America at least, that the “protector” tends to sit where they can see the door, and I don’t know if that’s a thing in SK as well, but it’s cute, because it matches their dynamic either way.

“Your fingers were all over it.” SIR!? You’ve had his sweaty ear in your mouth… he’s had his mouth on your neck… you’ve also had his fingers in your mouth before and vice verse… AND y’all constantly eat and drink off each other… in fact… yesterday he bit the very sausage you were in the middle of eating and then you continued eating it… before that you gladly allowed him to put his TOES next to your face while you were BRUSHING YOUR TEETH. Stop playing with me, Jeon Jungkook!

Jimin legit being ready to beat Tae’s ass over a dumpling is too crazy, lol. And folks be acting like he some docile helpless baby. Meanwhile, JK is a mediator. They definitely made for each other.

End of the episode. It was fun. Felt like the start of a holiday special. And I didn’t mention it up top, because I decided to “live blog” thoughts like ten minutes in or whatever, but Jungkook softly and sweetly saying he wanted to come back to Japan because it reminded him of their first trip together… SOBBING! He’s such a sentimental guy, with an equally as sentimental guy on his arm.

They truly do vibe so well, and I understand with each passing episode why them enlisting together was a non-choice choice. They click. Like they said themselves, they’re one person split into two bodies, and it’s clear as day they thrive off of being around one another.

Not to get too sappy either, but it’s insane they feel that way about their bond and dynamic, on top of all the things that already just so happened to bring them together. Not just born in the same country, but same city. Auditioned for the same music group. Actually made it into the same group… they were destined to meet, and even they feel that way. All that’s missing is them being the same age, and they’d be the same person. That’s an insane thing to say, but really tells you how deeply they value their connection.

#jikook

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shalotttower · 4 months ago

Text

Equations

Title: Equations Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female) Summary: A short snippet of Reader and L moving places. Probably can be counted as imagine. Word count: 990+ Notes: yandere L, kidnapped Reader, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House, Stockholm Syndrome, L is being a shithead gremlin.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it keeps no record of wrongs.

You're not religious at all, but those words glimpsed once on a bookshop wall stuck in your mind when Wammy's House stayed behind, somewhere in-between the pages of your journal, so carelessly flipped through by a boy with a blank expression, who had and still has no idea what those verses mean.

"What is it?" you ask, when Watari enters your room with a suitcase.

"We're leaving in an hour," he says. "Get ready, please."

You don't argue.

L doesn't have many rules, and most of those existing are unspoken. Some can be bent, some can be bargained and twisted into an illusion of freedom until it snaps. But if Watari comes in and tells you to get ready, you obey. It means you're moving somewhere else, another place unknown. So you pack: clothes, shoes (just two pairs, there's nowhere to wear them anyway), hygiene necessities which fit neatly inside one single bag.

When you get in the car, L is already there, looking through the window. The glass tints everything a tone darker.

Watari starts driving.

The first time you used it as a chance to understand where you were, memorize the road signs, the turns. By the eleventh you stopped caring, because it didn't really matter ─ even if the whole world map was imprinted inside your head, what would it do?

So you lean against the seat and watch the cows in the pasture on the right. Everything is green and yellow outside. Some rural town probably ─ a happy little world tucked away. A small part of you wishes to exit this car right here and now, just to see what happens. Intrusive thoughts are like that sometimes. They pop up and disappear without a reason or logic behind.

The sun is bright.

There's a church up ahead, with freshly painted doors and windows which have a stained glass pattern of white lilies among golden rays of light. A beautiful work of art put onto display for whoever cares enough to look.

You wonder: if God existed, what would he think of L's fingers curling over yours. The touch is barely there at all, yet you feel it down to your bones.

Love is patient, love is kind. His thumb brushes over your knuckles.

"What are you doing," you ask flatly, not expecting a reply. It's a reflex, like the knee jerk reaction, to ask him questions, because otherwise who knows what's there in that shaggy-haired head of his.

"Holding your hand," L says.

"I can see that. Why?"

"Why not?"

"That's not an answer."

"Then ask a better question."

You turn to look at him and immediately regret doing so, because his eyes are wide and focused, and you can see your own face reflected there. Between his bony fingers and yours are lifelines crisscrossed together by a forceful hand.

"Stop that," you tell him without much heat behind.

L doesn't look away, nor does he stop staring.

"Stop what?"

"That."

"If I knew what you're referring to, I'd probably have better chances of stopping it."

L tilts his head to the side. So that's what it is. One of those times when he feels a tad more playful, a bit more nagging, and tries to drag you into a verbal game that doesn't end until you surrender and let him have his way.

The church is long gone by now, and the cows too. Just empty space surrounded by trees which line up along the sides of the road.

You wish you were tired enough to nap through the rest of the ride, but since Watari brought a humidifier for your room, your night sleep has never been better. That leaves reading, and you pull an e-book from your bag to continue the novel started a few days ago.

You feel his head lean closer to your shoulder halfway through chapter six. His hair has grown a bit and tickles.

"Find your own book," you murmur and flip to the next page.

L hums and stays in place.

Ten minutes pass, then fifteen, he doesn't move and you wonder ─ when. His fingers are linked loosely with yours and you haven't tried to pry them off yet. Why haven't you?

When did you start tolerating his presence to this extent?

It's quiet save for the tires noise. Your index finger taps a pattern against the screen. Tap-tap-tap.

"The killer is-" L begins right when you get to the chapter nine.

"-male-" he continues despite your elbow hitting his side.

"-mid-thirties, dark hair-"

You slam your palm over his mouth, and the e-book falls from your lap onto the car floor. L blinks once before licking your hand like he's five years old instead of twenty three stepping into twenty four. You yelp and wipe it off against your jeans while Watari coughs in the front seat.

"You-" you catch yourself mid-sentence, then take a deep breath. "I would appreciate if you didn't spoil the books I'm currently reading."

Or movies you're watching; or games you play; or anything at all really whenever it catches your attention long enough to become invested. He doesn't do it often when he's on a case, but off those L tends to get very bored very quickly and finds entertainment in your reactions.

His lips twitch, and you know 100% percent that he's going to do it again until you give up on reading altogether and spend the rest of the ride talking to him instead, though "talking" is a loose term here. More like indulging whatever topic L decides to fixate on this time around, because if you ignore him, he will be just as content with staring at you for hours on end with nothing but silence between you both.

#shalott fanfiction #death note #yandere #yandere l lawliet #yandere l x reader #yandere l lawliet x reader #shalott imagine

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aspenous · 7 months ago

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As an absolute sucker for A/B/O Au's I love the idea of Kim Suho getting thrown into that kind of verse.

Imagine living your life, dying (?) And waking up to the concept of alpha, beta & omegas being the norm???

Plus the number of changes he'd have to deal with in his new body (omega!Lloyd hc).

This naturally brings only trouble for Javier (ノ^o^)ノ

It turned into a ramble more than anything tbh. Don't mind that <3 if there's anything plot vise I forgot/overlooked thru this it's cause my memory is A s s)

Javier POV lowkey:

Lloyd couldn't get any weirder. To add onto his sudden change in demeanor, he'd begun to get reckless with his scent as well. A scent similar to a Clementine or Tangerine that wafts in waves whenever Lloyd is particularly pleased with himself or got his way with another contract. Its a sharp contrast to the smell of booze everyone was used to, and it more often than not left a few townsmen sputtering when they spoke with him. Javier was left to deal with this change too, except he was beside his master 24/7. When that scent would hit him full force every morning, leave his nose twitching when Lloyd gets into the rhythms of his new work and when it calms into something comforting around noon; when the days almost gone and Lloyd decides to rest.

Javier first chokes up this lack of scent control to Lloyd's cold turkey sobriety. But it's been weeks now. Almost two months and Lloyd still hasn't tried to restrain his scent. Worse, others seem to be picking up on it as well. Loitering around the young master when they get the chance, chatting it up now that Lloyd wasn't defaulting to throwing chairs and yelling. Lloyd himself doesn't seem to enjoy it either; after a few minutes of chatter his lip would start to twitch and that scent of Tangerine (it was definitely closer to tangerines than clementines) would sour. Javier learns to take that as close enough a hint to pry his master away from the crowd, spill a white lie about how he's needed elsewhere and get Lloyd some air. He tries not to be pleased about how Lloyd visibly relaxes when it's just the two of them.

"Master Lloyd–" Javier is at his wits end. He's a patient man. Strong willed and resilient when it comes to most obstacles. His Master however? His loud , arragont, obnoxious at times master being this stupid? Javier is a patient man but he's a man nonetheless. A Knight who's had to deal with his masters turbulent scent that just doesn't want to leave him alone. And worse, Lloyd turns back to him with a genuine look of confusion (as genuine as it can be). Javier ends up questioning his master through a locked face and Lloyd in response looks bewildered. "The drinking must have hit me worse than I thought" is all he gets. Javier refuses the sleeping spell that night, throws a hand over his masters mouth before he can get a word in and declares to help him control his scent again. From then on they spend an hour every night before bed going through the motions, and Lloyd (after months) finally learns to control his own scent. Javier sighs in relief, and tries not to think about how he misses that familiar tangerine scent.

Master Lloyd seems to loose his filter as well. Not when around the staff, count or contracted men he's hired no. Only when it's just the two of them, in a moment of what Javier could've hoped was peace before his master opens his mouth. "You smell like mint." he says unabashed. "I'm safe when you're here aren't I?" He laughs with no shame. "I trust you." He declares. Javier understands this is comradery of some kind. A trust and faith in him that no one else has given him before. His master is far too good at feeding that quiet voice in the back of his mind, and Javier let's him. (Alpha instincts have low standards lmao)

It's after they get back to the estate that Lloyd gets his heat. It's not hard to notice. He asks for seconds during meals, sleeps late into the mornings, speaks more with his summons than with anyone outside the estate and avoids half the staff like the plague. It's rather obvious when that overripe scent of tangerine clings to his skin and his expressions screams dazed more than anything. The count had noticed, Javier had as well, but Lloyd hadn't. Despite being days into Pre-heat, his master still drags himself out of bed and goes about the motions, despite how miserable he looks. It ends up being Javier's job (once again) to pull him aside and question him. "My what-" is all he gets before Javier realizes he has more on his plate than he expected.

(+I like to think heats can be sexual and non-sexual given the circumstances!)

His pillow is missing. Javier turns his room inside out and still can't find it. He assumes he'd left it where he last slept; Lloyd's room. When he enters said room however, he doubts he would've found it if he tried. The beds drowned in pillows and blankets. The summons are jumping around in their own world until they notice Javier and greet him with small chirps and sounds. Javier ends up smelling Lloyd coming before the door opens. Sweet Tangerine and hints of earth that hit him when the door opens. He finds his pillow then, tucked under his masters arm as if it belonged there. Javier blanks out for a moment. "Ah Javier! Great timing. I was just looking for you." Lloyd smiles. Something often quiet in Javier's gut comes to life then and there. He doesn't end up on the chair that night. Lloyd doesn't let him. Spouts nonsense about how the chair isn't comfortable and how important sleeping positions are and only shuts up when Javier relents. He ends up in Lloyd's nest, the only barrier between him and the other being his own damned pillow. He falls asleep without the sleeping spell that night.

That's it for now? That's a lie my brains rattling with more HCs but I should stop here lmao. If people like this word vomit I'll make a part 2.

#the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #javier asrahan #javilloyd #tged #abo ah #I did this instead of my assignment lmao #Mojito_Spills #sorry in advance #part 1(?)#if there's any spelling errors no there's not #u see nothing

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enjolraspermettendo · 6 months ago

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Les Miserables Fanfic recs✨️

I tried to make a selection, my absolute favourites have a heart next to them ❤️, but my les mis fics bookmarks have 17 pages, so you know, there are still other amazing fics that i didn't include (part 2 maybe?). I also realised while making this list that most of these fics are actually very well known, but still, they're great 🤷‍♀️ I'm an angst enthusiast, be warned.

( I'm trying to also tag the tumblr accounts of the authors: if you are one of the authors and I missed your url and want me to add you or if you want me to remove you dont hesitate to contact me! )

❤️ World Aint Ready by idiopathicsmile @idiopathicsmile

Enjolras presses his lips together. He already looks pained, and Grantaire hasn't even opened his mouth yet. That's got to be a record, even for them.

"I need a favor," he says at last.

"With what?" says Grantaire. "Ooh, are you forming a cult? Can I join? I'd be awesome at cults, I just know it." He ticks off his qualifications on his fingers. "I love chanting, I look great in robes—"

(High school AU. Grantaire the disaffected stoner is pulled into a cause bigger than himself. Or: in which there are pretend boyfriends for great justice.)

Part 1 of World Aint Ready-verse

To Fold the Sheet by Lyres

“Can you say one good thing about the season?”

Holding out his soap-sud covered hands until Grantaire tosses a towel on top of them, Enjolras hums in thought. “Not really,” he says, once he's dried off. “Just don't have a lot of happy memories of summer, I suppose.”

(In which Grantaire attempts to make Happy Summer Memories, and Enjolras is endlessly patient.)

History of Melancholia by Squash (JeSuisGourde) @meta-squash

Grantaire deals with his depression by documenting it through photography as he and Enjolras try to wade through life with mental illness. It doesn't make it any easier for him or Enjolras, though. It's the blind leading the blind as they try to navigate the waters of depression.

A series of moments in no particular order, showing the paths that Grantaire's depression and addiction has taken him on and the ways he has tried to survive.

Submission (Going Down, Down) by ddeadkennedys

anyway, enjolras hated grantaire at first. enjolras isn't an asshole, he's not a gatekeeper or some sort of shitty elitist, but grantaire was uninspired, hopeless despite all that potential. a waste. but then that whole thing went down, and shit changed, and if grantaire thought he couldn't get enough of enjolras' attention before, now that enj is only mean to him for fun he's a fucking junkie for it.

Part 1 of the revolution is my boyfriend

Keep It Kind, Keep It Good, Keep It Right by lady_ragnell @theladyragnell

“You aren’t going to ask me if I’m okay?”

“You aren’t. Believe me, I know the signs.” Grantaire sighs, and his breath mists in the air like cigarette smoke. “They love you in there.”

“And out here?”

“You know that’s not a fair question.”

Forget Me Not by Opium_du_Peuple @just-french-me-up

Enjolras loses four years worth of memories after a nasty car accident. Though he still remembers who Combeferre and Courfeyrac are, he also finds himself with a herd of friends he doesn't remember meeting. Friends who are exactly what his blank mind needs to recollect his missing memories.

or : the amnesia fic no one asked for.

i'm not the moon (i'm not even a star) by serinesaccade @serinesaccade

“The amnesiac has questions,” says Grantaire. Boyfriend grips the wheel. “Don’t worry, we’ll start with the 200 dollar Jeopardy trivia.” A semi roars past them. “What’s your name?” The perfect sinew and bones of his fingers relax. “Oh,” he murmurs. Just like that, defenses lowered. “Enjolras.” “Cool,” Grantaire says. “I’m Grantaire.” Something happens to Enjolras’ face which, if you zoomed in, might be considered a smile. “I know.” “How long have we been dating, Enjolras?” The almost-smile is gone. The gameshow metaphor has become too apt; someone’s lost it all. “That’s complicated.” Well. Grantaire should’ve known some part of this fairytale was too good to be true. He’s best friends with a streetsmart renegade and someone who wrote him a welcome-back-to-consciousness poem in godawful blue icing on an orange frosted cookie cake. There are nearly ten people who were waiting for him to wake up in a hospital room. Of course his inexplicable relationship with his supernova hot, socially conscientious boyfriend is ‘complicated.’

thirteen days and fourteen hours and a dozen minutes by Potoo

"Enjolras,” Grantaire gasps as delicate fingers brush over his chest, an airy quality to them, “what do you want?” Because Grantaire would serve him the whole world on a silver platter, and it would never be enough.

“You,” Enjolras states, his voice clear and severe, “I want you.”

Enjolras discovers one by one what his friends think about Grantaire. He is rather surprised by their words.

Also: body worship porn.

Metropolitan Art by ryssabeth @avagueambitioninyourerection

Paris is his home.

❤️ Wrap your fingers round my thumb by Ibbyliv

When Éponine leaves in the morning, he’s already feeling much better. No really, he is. He makes a cup of coffee and even showers. The sun is shining brightly –even though it’s mostly late in the afternoon than morning but he has no one to apologize to, no reason to excuse himself for being a lazy ass and not finishing that painting for ages- and he’s humming a catchy tune that has been stuck in his head while he wipes his hair dry with a towel. He opens the door because he feels good enough to take the trash out, and everything’s alright, even the odor coming from the plastic bag, until he hears it.

It’s a cry, a wail, desperate and heartbreaking as if something tiny is trying to cause its lungs to explode and is on its way to success. Grantaire looks around, not willing to accept what he feels coming, before lowering his eyes on the floor. In this moment, Grantaire swears, he's so fucking wasted. * Enjolras leaves to work abroad for a year. When he returns, he finds out that there has been a new addition to their group.

A Series of Progressions by AnnaBolena @annabrolena

Modern AU in Paris in which most of Les Amis are students and all of them are sort of slow on the getting together aspect of relationships, with sociopolitical commentary and medical jabber peppered in between.

how sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by Tegami @furtherfish

He could have shrugged and that would have been it. Say that he just found it precious. But Grantaire was Grantaire and he never could keep himself from oversharing and he was already dizzy with the way this night was going, so he told the truth. “The first thought I had when I read that poem was ‘If someone would ever call me “sweet boy” and mean it, I would probably pass out.’” OR: E & R are being ""casual"". Grantaire attempts to break some of their habits. Enjolras reads some angsty notes R left in his copy of Shakespeare's sonnets. Then they fuck

❤️ Hotel California by sunflowerbright

'You can check out, but you can never leave' - Reincarnation!AU

❤️ Paris Burning by thecitysmith @thecitysmith

In a world where cities are personified, the City of Paris has been missing for centuries, driven away by the horrors of war and the worst humanity has offered him. Enjolras dreams of meeting Paris, and leading him to a better tomorrow. What he doesn't know is that Paris is now a cynical drunk who calls himself Grantaire.

❤️ Thirty-Two Times by Ark @et-in-arkadia

Marius, looking chastised but sad, says, “Is there nothing then for romance, Enjolras? It seems a strange emotion to be struck with, distracting as a fever, if it means nothing.” It is Grantaire who answers first. “Nothing means anything, Marius,” says the cynic. “Yet who would ever die for his country if he did not love some person who lived within it?”

❤️ Once We're Kings by raeldaza

Their kingdoms have been at odds for centuries, so what will be a greater 'fuck you' than to send hapless knight Grantaire as their representative for Prince Enjolras's queen choosing ceremony before he is crowned King? Grantaire disagrees, but he doesn't seem to get much of a say in the matter. No one is really expecting anything to come of it, but trust Enjolras to defy expectations.

❤️ Your Heart on Your Skin by zade @racetrackthehiggins

Grantaire’s first flower appears when he is two years old. It’s late, for a First Bloom, considering some children are born with their First already etched above their hearts, but Grantaire’s parents are warm and loving and wait to see what sort of child they have born unto the world. His First Bloom, when it comes, is vibrant patch of yellow carnations. He is too young to know what it means, and his parents don’t tell him, just—withdraw, and a much smaller patch of yellow carnations appears on his mother’s ankle. -- Soulmate AU where things in your life appear as flowers on your skin, and people with hard lives have a lot of flowers to show for it

Tetris by chapstickaddict

Cosette is Enjolras' half-sister. His father slept with Fantine and then buggered off to be with his wife. Then Enjolras found out. One day he sees her- and he knows its her- and doesn't know what to do. Enjolras is Cosette's half-brother. Her mother slept with a married man and died of a broken heart and weary soul. Then Cosette found out. One day, she finds him-and she knows its him- and doesn't know what to do. Then Marius happened...

Silence Is the Speech of Love by lady_ragnell @theladyragnell

Grantaire's life has a pattern: he pays his respects to Aphrodite, he goes to work, he loves Enjolras and provokes him because he can't bring himself to do otherwise. That seems unlikely to change, at least until Enjolras speaks out against the gods and ends up cursed. Grantaire does his best to help him, but it turns out it's just as hard to love Enjolras up close as it is from afar.

Part 1 of The Speech of Love

❤️ I Believe In Nothing but the Truth and Who We Are by Whreflections

"Under the wine, Grantaire smelled like smoke and summer nights. His dark hair curled in a chaotic mess around his face, his neck below pale and soft. The first time they met, the first time he drew the scent into his lungs, he ached with the need to mark that stretch of skin, to card his fingers through Grantaire’s hair so very gently before tilting his head back so Enjolras might mark his bared throat and make his claim. He resisted then, telling himself that to act on instinct alone was the arena of an animal; he was a man of intellect, and he could choose." As an alpha, Enjolras has known Grantaire to be his mate since he first came to the Musain, a truth he does his best to bury. With his devotion already promised to France, he tells himself he cannot risk dividing his loyalties, cannot risk a bond that would pull so heavy on his heart. This is what he's told himself a thousand times, but when Grantaire needs him, his careful resolutions may not be able to hold against the strain.

His Love Letter by ShitpostingfromtheBarricade @shitpostingfromthebarricade

Your Wednesday regular appears right on time and orders the same thing as he does every week, but something's different today.

❤️ Here's looking at you by illuminate

“So domestic trouble rather than treason?” Floreal said. “I’m not saying one precludes the other.” Enjolras said, which came out more pained than he had intended. “Are you suggesting Grantaire sold national secrets to a crime lord because you were a bad boyfriend?” Floreal asked. Her tone was bemused, but there was a glint in her eye that turned the comment into mockery. “No.” Enjolras snapped, stung, and then didn’t say more. Spy AU. Grantaire removes his tracker and disappears the same night Lamarque is killed in his office. Enjolras is left behind, trying to figure out what happened and why Grantaire didn't tell him anything.

❤️ Meanwhile, A Glacier by standalone

“I’ll go.” He says it without brashness or deference. Just a statement. “Where?” “You want to climb the Forty,” he says, and Enjolras can’t deny it. “I’ll go with you.”

❤️ It's Not the Same Anymore by ShameDumpster @shamedumpster

Grantaire is a bookstore clerk in his late twenties, and to everyone’s eternal disbelief, a father. It’s been years since he’s seen anyone from his former group of friends, after a falling out cleaved him from the ABC, but everything changes when Enjolras walks into his bookstore. Can they rekindle their friendship, or something more, while they both come to terms with how their lives have changed over the past decade?

Part 1 of INtSA-verse

❤️ Combeferre's Tattoos by standalone

Enjolras clunked down three lowball glasses of whiskey and a bottle of soda water. “We have already established, ‘Ferre, his freedom to leave us. Can you please stop bringing it up and instead give him some incentive to stay?” Combeferre cocked his head to the side, as if amused at Enjolras’s crankiness. “Such as?” “He seemed to like you shirtless.” ‘Ferre nodded. “Then perhaps someone should take my shirt off.” or When the universe gives you Enjolras and Combeferre, who the hell are you to ask questions?

Part 1 of Tattoos AU

❤️ In Defiance of all Geometry by idiopathicsmile @idiopathicsmile

Amis House might not be the biggest student co-op, or the fanciest, but it's got something all its own. Specifically, smoke damage on the kitchen ceiling from that time Courfeyrac lit a political pamphlet on fire. In which there are secrets, pining, pancakes, and revelations, and sometimes the shortest distance between three points is not a triangle but a circle.

Part 1 of IDOAG-verse

❤️ We still got time (Raise your hopeful voice) by RavenXavier

“Excuse-you!” came Grantaire’s offended voice from the other side of the room. “I would make an excellent wife, Monsieur Lesgle, should I choose to! I have all the qualities of one!" (In which Enjolras slowly falls in love, and Grantaire takes the time to explore what feels right.)

Musagetes by defractum @defractum

"You've had sex," says Grantaire, just to clarify. He gives Enjolras an obvious look up and down, as if he's trying to imagine it right now: Enjolras having sex, Enjolras in the act of having sex. The curve of his mouth gives away his smirk; it's Grantaire though, so his smirk is two-thirds mocking and one-third self-deprecating. In which Enjolras has sex, has casual sex, and doesn't talk about it; in which Grantaire speaks better through art.

❤️ Through the Narrow Place by revolutionbarbie

“What brought you to Paris?” Montparnasse asked. “A train, ostensibly. And a bus.” Grantaire leaves Poland for Paris, content to remain alone forever if it means that he'll be safe. He goes to work and he comes home and he doesn't think about how few people there would be to miss him should he disappear. When he meets the Friends who gather and plot at the Cafe Musain, he realises how much he has been missing and though their leader is reckless and arrogant, Grantaire can't help but be drawn to him.

❤️ A Thousand Miles by kjack89 @kjack89

Some couples had a morning breakfast routine. For Enjolras and Grantaire, it was coffee. Come rain, shine, or hectic schedules, they still made time every morning to have a cup of coffee together. Sometimes that time saw Grantaire perching on the counter in the bathroom while Enjolras gulped his cup in the shower; other times, it was the two of them in bed long past when they were supposed to get up, wrapped in blankets and each other. Some days those precious few minutes were the only time they saw each other, and they treasured it. Even when Enjolras was out of town on business, they called or Facetimed each other to share their morning cup of coffee. It was the one consistency in their lives that Grantaire could count on.

❤️ Hēbē by illuminate

“You cannot feed on a citizen without their consent, because that would be an attack on their person - and their Rights, I am sure. But you cannot risk revealing your nature and so you cannot ask for permission. Luckily, you have me, who am already aware and quite willing.” The chair screeches loudly as Enjolras pushes himself away from the table. ”Come now, Apollo, let me be your cupbearer.” Grantaire implores; his tone somewhere between teasing and honest. “No, we are not doing that.” Enjolras growls. (In short: Enjolras has trouble feeding himself, because he is too busy planning the revolution. Grantaire finds out and is more than willing to help.)

Part 1 of cupbearer

Enjolras looks down at where Grantaire’s hand holds the pack against him and doesn’t bother to take hold. “If you were Combeferre,” he says, “this would be the part where you tell me these things will kill me.” “If I were Combeferre, I’d be inside and you’d be bothering someone else,” Grantaire snaps. He snatches the pack of cigarettes back and extracts one, leaving just two inside. It is with sharp, savage movements that he jabs it into his mouth, lights it with the silver Zippo, and then offers it to Enjolras.

love is in the air, i just gotta figure out a window to break out by tamquams

#les miserables #les mis #grantaire #enjolras #combeferre #bahorel #courfeyrac #joly #feuilly #marius pontmercy #cosette #eponine #bossuet #gavroche #jehan #fanfictions #fanfic

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