#there are much more of you that have been so lovely and encouraging and I am grateful for you all <333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[retiredteabag]

I’m listening to you

Including: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Yuuji, and Megumi

Synopsis: You stop talking because you assume they aren’t listening… how silly of you, but how do they react?

my masterlist

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Satoru

It would probably be like any other day, he had probably just come back from a mission, laying across the couch and you would be in the kitchen making a snack board as you talked about numerous different things.

The conversation would shift through a multitude of topics as one thing would then reminded you of the next.

As you were getting the chips, you would explain the drama at work after that you would go and get some hummus while you explained the love life of one of your coworkers thereafter you would be reminded of a friend of yours from high school while piling up some cheese cubes.

Throughout all of this, there were very few breaks in your speech. When you finally came to the living room, Satoru would be facing towards you, with his head slightly tilted back on the armrest and his feet dangling off the other edge.

You could see him, just not very well. His blindfold would also be on, not an uncommon occurrence, but it would still be hard for you to see the slight changes in his facial features that typically depicted his emotions to you.

After awhile, you might start to wonder if he was feeling tired from the mission or if he just wasn’t paying attention. It’s okay, getting distracted happens to everyone sometimes.

Your words would taper off.

Believe me when I say it would not take this man any longer than say…five seconds for his head to raise and voice to pipe up,

“Well what happened next?”

And with a grabby hand he would add,

“Aren’t you gonna share those?”

Turning to point at the snacks in your lap.

For such a chatty guy, you would be surprised by how much he enjoyed just listening to others. Especially if it meant listening to you.

Nanami

Let’s be realistic here, this man would never take his undivided attention away from you.

That being said, the situation would be a little bit different with him. You guys would probably be out for coffee. Maybe the both of you had been busy for a while and felt the need to make a day out of catching up.

You know that embarrassing feeling when you get the notion you’ve been talking too much? It would be something like that.

You would have been gesturing and looking around the room while you talked about this and that. Unbeknownst to you, he would have hearts in his eyes while he listened to your ramblings.

That sudden itch would get to you though, the notion that, maaaaaaaaybe you have been talking about yourself too long.

One quick look at your man caused a shiver to run up your back at the eye contact.

There would be a pause in your speech, and he would nod at you to encourage more words to spill fourth, but now you were all flustered.

You would trip over your words, stuttering every so often before eventually apologizing.

“What is it, dear?”

He would ask, after a moment of you trying to collect yourself, he would assume that you had simply lost your train of thought and remind you of the topics you had been previously sharing.

You would thank him even though that wouldn’t have been the issue at all.

How could you not get shy when he was looking at you like that?

Choso

This would have to occur after a long day. Either during nap time or before you both went to bed.

He would be laying his head on your chest as you played with his freed hair. Talking about stuff you had seen online, talking about your plans for the next day, talking about what you were planning to eat for lunch tomorrow, the list could go on.

Every so often he would hum or nod his head. But after a while, you would look down and see that his eyes were closed.

It wasn’t hurtful, or embarrassing. It has been a long day for the both of you, and he was probably just tired. He often fell asleep easily when you combed through his hair with your nails. So you wouldn’t be offended as you go silent.

After you stop talking, though, he would grab your free hand and fiddle with your fingers, saying,

“I like those tacos too… we should get lunch together!”

You would giggle and tug on a lock of his hair, “I thought you were asleep.”

He would spin around onto his chest, chin pressed slightly into you while he looked up at your eyes through those big, long, lashes of his, “But you were talking to me?”

Sukuna

This man :| he would get offended if you insinuated that you could possibly be boring him.

Of course, it would be his fault, too. He would complain and whine all the time about how uninterested he was in your life. Griping that he had better things to do than just sit around and listen to you talk.

But don’t misunderstand, there was nothing he desired more than to watchyou speak about things that impassioned you.

But perhaps one of those instances you would take to heart, he was a busy man after all. It’s not like he had all the time in the world to listen to you yap about nonsense.

So after a long while in his chambers, you would just kind of go silent. ‘Allowing’ him a little time to himself.

Just earlier that day, you would have been telling him a story about one of your fellow workers at the estate. Sukuna had rolled his eyes at the incompetence of his staff as you giggled on about how a man got his hand stuck in a jar full of fertilizer.

You would take his disinterested countenance to assume that he was bored with you. For someone so ancient, he did have an attention span fitting to the times.

He always told you not to make assumptions about him, but after him asking you on several occasions, “and why are you telling me this?” You couldn’t help or conclude that he wasn’t all that interested.

I’ll tell you now. As much as he would like to pretend that was the case, it is far from the truth.

He would frown while laying on his bed. “Why did you stop?”

You would spin around, slightly surprised that he had even been paying attention. “Oh I just thought maybe I was boring you…”

That would cause him to sit up, scowling in your direction, “Did I say that?”

“Well…”

“Did. I. Say. That.”

“…no?”

Undeniably, sassy, he would splay out his arms in a “see??” type of motion. Waiting rather impatiently for you to continue on so he could relax to the sound of his lovers soothing voice while pretending to be impartial to it all.

Toji

This prick.

He wouldn’t do a thing lol

This man would let you assume he isn’t listening, let you think he’s off somewhere else, let you think he’s checked out.

But that could not be more wrong.

Maybe he’s eating his lunch, or watching tv, or texting someone. Whatever the case, there’s nothing he’s more locked into than your words.

In fact, it would take you a while into your relationship for you to realize this, but sometimes you would have to be careful around Toji because once you said something, this man would remember it forever.

You probably wouldn’t even think about it when you stopped talking, deciding to put your efforts into something else. But Toji would notice.

He wouldn’t bring it up though, not for days. But eventually he would crack the conversation back again, flipping the newspaper over and avoiding your eyes.

You would spin around on him, wondering how he even knew the things he was talking about. Then it would hit you.

“Wait… you were listening?”

He would scoff, elbows on the table, finally looking at you over his reading glasses. “Excuse me?” He would point an accusatory finger at you and set down the paper. “Was I listening?”

You would gape at him open mouthed, “Well… how was I supposed to know?”

He would roll his eyes in the most dramatic of fashions, getting up from the kitchen table to stroll over to you. “Please,” he would groan, grazing a knuckle over your neck,

“You’ve always got my attention.”

Yuuji

One might think this would happen early on in the relationship but I would argue this situation would happen after years together.

Why? Well, Yuuji is a super excitable guy, he also just loves talking to you. You both make a great pair because the two of you always converse in a way suitable to each other.

For example, sometimes you’d interrupt one another, never in a rude way, but in a way that shows passion about the topic at hand. That would bring on a whole new discussion and keep the conversation flowing.

Yuuji was a great listener when he needed to be but mainly he was a great conversationalist. Neither of you needed to do heavy lifting when you talked. It was great!

After awhile though, the two of you would become more and more comfortable around one another and more accustomed to the way you spoke.

That’s why it was so weird to see him less active in a conversation. He wasn’t interjecting with his little agreements or experiences. He would still be looking at you, but it was different.

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he might just be uninterested in the topic so you would get all quiet, focusing on something else until he spoke up.

“No, keep talking.”

Grinning at you, he looked just like he always did.

“You’re not bored?”

He would squint, confused at the notion, “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you just seem a little quiet I guess.”

But he would just smile at you, “I don’t know what it is… but recently I’ve been liking just admiring you.”

He would say things like that out of the blue all the time by the way.

“Yuuuuujiiiii” you would groan.

“What? Doesn’t mean I’m not listening!”

Megumi

Inversely to Yuuji, this would happen with Megumi early on in y’all’s relationship, likely pre-relationship when the two of you were just getting to know one another.

Megumi wasn’t really shy at all, he was more reserved, even though you weren’t all that talkative, he could still unintentionally make you feel like a blabbermouth at times.

The two of you would probably have been out on a walk together, or maybe in the cafeteria getting lunch, wherever, you would have been sharing some piece of yourself with him.

It would also probably have been a long time since he had spoke up. Sometimes he wouldn’t even give listening cues so it’s not too unusual to suppose that he was checked out.

Megumi was NOT checked out though. He was filing every little word you said away into his brain, and thinking of the best way to respond to you.

You might not know this though, so after awhile you might get all shy, suddenly looking off, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Embarrassed that he hadn’t heard a word, that’s when he would turn to you,

“I’m listening.”

Simple as that.

Reassuring but not overly affectionate.

He would do it in public and in private. If you were in a group and he could tell your confidence was slipping he would jump in to let you know that he cared about your thoughts and opinions.

And like in this instance when it was just the two of you, he might reach over to grab your hand, letting you know,

“I’m still here.”

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ NANA TOUR ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 1-2.

Nana Tour with SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 1-2! Off to Italy. Get on the plane, into the rhythm. Here they go, Italy! SEVENTEEN is beyond excited for the vacation that they simply couldn’t control themselves at the airport and on the plane.

SURPRISE!!! i know i said i will be focusing on publishing all the one-shots in my drafts before i continue my other series’ but i simply couldn’t help myself!! it’s been a month since i started nana tour and i know you guys have been waiting and are excited for more so… here it’s is!! episode 1-2 is relatively shorter so i will be adding additional scenes (this will be the norm for shorter episodes), so send me ideas you potentially want to add and see that weren’t in the final episodes!! enjoy and happy reading, my loves 🤍💙

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ nana tour masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

The members began climbing into the bus one by one, their chatter filling the crisp evening air. The vehicle’s interior buzzed with energy as they settled in, each of them moving toward the back section where the seats surrounded two small tables. Despite the chaotic shuffling, the laughter and teasing were lighthearted as they began claiming their spots.

[Party bus for SEVENTEEN]

Jeonghan entered just behind Joshua, glancing at the seating arrangement. Woozi had taken a seat facing the table directly, but Jeonghan raised his voice over the noise. “Woozi, scoot over one seat, please,” he said gently but with purpose, pointing to the side. “Jiyeonie’s going to get car sick if she doesn’t face forward.”

Woozi blinked up at him but complied, shifting over without much protest. “Okay, okay,” he muttered as he slid across the seat.

“What’s going on?” Dokyeom asked, amused as he plopped down next to Jun.

“Jeonghan’s setting up the seating plan,” Vernon teased as he leaned back in his chair. “Vice leader vibes.”

[Jeonghan: Vice Leader of SEVENTEEN]

Jeonghan simply hummed, turning back toward the bus door as the rest of the members shuffled and rearranged their spots. Once everything was more or less settled, their attention turned to the two figures still lingering outside the bus— Luna and Seungcheol.

Luna stood hesitantly, clutching her red bunny plushie, Cherry, tightly in her arms as she looked up at Seungcheol. Her expression wavered between reluctance and disappointment, her brows slightly furrowed. After a hesitant farewell to Seungcheol, who gently encouraged her to board, Luna finally nodded. She climbed onto the bus, her plushie tucked protectively against her chest.

[Bunny Luna with bunny Cherry a.k.a bunny S.Coups]

As soon as she stepped inside, the back section went quiet for a moment as everyone turned to her, amusement flickering in their eyes. Her slightly pouty lips and furrowed brows made her emotions clear�� she didn’t like it when their group wasn’t complete.

“She’s disappointed,” Joshua cooed, a teasing smile on his face.

The rest of the members nodded knowingly, their chuckles soft as they watched her.

Luna stopped by the aisle, looking at the seats. “Where do I sit?” she asked, her voice small but curious.

Jeonghan, already prepared, pointed to the empty seat between Mingyu and Minghao. “Over there, Nana-ya,” he said softly, motioning toward the forward-facing seat. “You’ll feel better sitting in that direction. Go on.”

Luna nodded, shuffling down the narrow aisle and stopping by the designated seat. Minghao and Mingyu shifted slightly, making space for her to slide in. Carefully, she maneuvered between their legs before slumping down into the seat, letting out a small huff as she adjusted Cherry on her lap.

“Aigo… I’m tired already,” she murmured, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. Without hesitation, she leaned her head on Minghao’s shoulder, her breath light and warm as she rested.

Minghao chuckled, tilting his head slightly to accommodate her. “You barely got on, Jiyeonie.”

[Low power]

The others laughed softly at her antics, their chatter resuming as they prepared for the trip ahead.

Hoshi, seated by the window, suddenly perked up and moved the curtain aside. “Guys, our CEO is outside,” he announced, his tone half-surprised, half-amused.

Everyone turned their attention to the window, peering out to see their CEO standing there, waving enthusiastically at them.

“We’ll be back safely!” Dokyeom called out, his voice cheerful.

Meanwhile, Mingyu, Luna, and Minghao giggled as they watched their CEO repeatedly bow and apologize to Minghao by the window.

“The8, I love you,” their CEO said earnestly, earning a soft chuckle from Minghao.

“Okay,” Minghao replied, calm as ever.

“I’m really sorry,” their CEO continued apologizing, he repeated again as if to plead.

[Apologizes for the lies]

“No, no, no,” Minghao reassured him, raising a hand. “Schedule it for me later.”

Mingyu burst into laughter at Minghao’s deadpan tone, and even Luna, her head still on Minghao’s shoulder, giggled softly. “Hao, you’re funny,” she said, her voice warm with affection.

“He asked them to schedule it later,” Mingyu repeated, still laughing as he told the others.

The bus erupted into laughter, the mood light and lively as they watched the scene unfold outside.

“The staff are apologizing to Minghao,” Woozi noted dryly, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

“Goodbye!” a familiar voice called out from outside. It was Seungcheol, standing a little behind their CEO, his hand raised in a wave.

“Aigo… Cheollie… bye-bye,” Luna said, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness as she waved back at him through the window.

[Leaving S.Coups makes Luna sad]

“Okay! We’ll be back!” Hoshi told Seungcheol, grinning brightly.

As the bus engine roared to life and began moving, Luna turned back to the window. She caught sight of Seungcheol still standing there, his hands moving deliberately as if he were writing something in the air.

[?]

“What?” Luna mouthed, furrowing her brows in confusion.

Seungcheol repeated the gesture, his lips forming the words “My letter.”

Luna blinked, still unsure of what he meant but nodding anyway. “My letter,” she read his lips again, her brows knitting slightly as she gave him one final wave.

[What could it be?]

The bus pulled away, leaving him behind as they set off on their journey.

The bus hummed softly as it cruised along the highway, carrying the members of SEVENTEEN toward the airport. The early morning light filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow over the group. Most of them were still waking up from the rush of getting on the bus, their chatter muted and interspersed with soft yawns and quiet laughter. The absence of Seungcheol lingered in the air, but the members tried to lift the mood with their usual antics.

“Wow, we are really going on a trip to Rome for a week?” Jeonghan asked, his voice carrying a touch of lazy amusement, though the glimmer of excitement in his eyes betrayed him. He leaned back in his seat, head resting against the window as he gazed out at the moving scenery.

“It’s awesome,” Hoshi said, his enthusiasm evident. His eyes darted around the bus, taking in the crew members and his fellow teammates.

“This is a memory. Should we take a picture?” Dino asked suddenly, leaning forward in his seat as the idea struck him. His smile was bright, filled with the kind of energy that was contagious even in the subdued atmosphere. He pulled out his phone and waved it in the air before handing it to Seungkwan.

Hoshi accepted the phone, turning it around to position it for a selfie. He extended his arm out as far as it could go, adjusting the angle to fit everyone in the frame. “Alright, get ready. One, two, three…”

The camera shutter clicked as they smiled, each of them wearing expressions ranging from bright grins to subtle smirks. Hoshi glanced down at the phone, grinning. “One more! One, two, three…”

This time, their expressions and poses shifted—peace signs, exaggerated pouts, and playful winks. Another click echoed through the bus.

“One more, one more!” Hoshi said, his enthusiasm sparking laughter from the group. They leaned into each other, pulling faces and throwing up random gestures. “One, two, three…” The final shutter sound snapped through the air, marking the end of their mini photo session.

From the front of the bus, one of PD Na’s producers chuckled softly, catching the group’s antics as they reviewed their pictures. “Your poses are just an automatic reflex,” the producer remarked, his tone light and amused. The rest of the crew watched the scene unfold with smiles, their cameras capturing candid moments of SEVENTEEN’s camaraderie.

[Idol reflexes]

As the laughter settled, PD Na’s voice broke through the hum of the bus. “Customers, you guys all got on, right?” His tone mimicked that of a professional tour guide, filled with exaggerated formality.

“Yes!” came the resounding chorus of responses from the members, their enthusiasm almost synchronized.

“Thank you so much for using ‘NANA TOUR,’” PD Na continued, his delivery earning a round of applause from the group.

���Thank you so much,” he repeated, pausing briefly before launching into the next part of his announcement. “Once we get to Italy, we have some pocket money that we are going to use. Everything is included once you get there, so you don’t really need pocket money…” His words trailed off, his tone hinting at something left unsaid.

Luna, seated comfortably beside Minghao with her head resting on his shoulder, let out a soft giggle. She absently fiddled with Cherry the bunny that sat on her lap, its soft plush fur comforting under her fingers. Her giggle drew Minghao’s attention, and he glanced down at her with a curious smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening. “I just know he is going to make us play for money at some point.” she whispered back, her amusement clear.

[Maybe…]

PD Na, oblivious to her quiet commentary, continued speaking. “Still… you personally might need money you need to spend— a small amount of pocket money will be given.” His voice carried through the bus, commanding the attention of the members.

“100 euros per person for pocket money. We prepared 1,400 euros for now. That’s roughly around 1.5 million won,” he explained, his words met with nods from the group.

The hum of the bus persisted as PD Na’s voice cut through the light chatter. With the members’ attention drawn toward him, he continued with his usual composed yet playful demeanor.

“If you pick the person you trust the most as the manager, we will give that person the money,” PD Na announced.

The group fell into a brief silence, exchanging looks as they deliberated. Hoshi was the first to break the silence, leaning slightly forward with a grin.

“Dino is the manager,” Hoshi declared confidently, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Yes,” Woozi agreed almost immediately, his calm and concise tone adding a layer of finality to Hoshi’s statement.

Luna, who was still comfortably nestled against Minghao’s shoulder, simply nodded, her agreement clear.

Dino sat up straighter in his seat before nodding in agreement. “Between our parents… that… out of the managers… parents… my parents do it.”

[???]

The bus fell silent again, but this time it was filled with confusion. Dino’s words hung in the air like a puzzle no one could quite piece together. His stammered explanation hinted he might still be half-asleep— or perhaps still a little tipsy— left both the crew and PD Na blinking in bewilderment.

PD Na, ever the professional, attempted to process the nonsensical statement. But the confusion quickly gave way to laughter as the realization set in that there was no understanding what Dino had just said. PD Na chuckled, his shoulders shaking lightly as he tried to decipher the jumbled words.

Luna, however, was quicker to react. She shifted, lifting her head from Minghao’s shoulder and straightening her posture. With an expression as deadpan as ever, she turned toward Dino. “Wah… I wanna see what you just said written on paper.”

Her sudden retort was met with immediate laughter. PD Na let out a loud, hearty laugh, leaning back in his seat as the absurdity of the situation hit him all over again. The crew joined in, their chuckles mingling with the laughter of the members, who had now all turned to look at Luna.

“Channie… you made no sense whatsoever. Are you okay? Are you still drunk?” Luna continued, her tone calm but laced with a teasing edge as her lips curled into a small smirk. The members doubled over in laughter at her casual jabs, and even Dino couldn’t help but laugh at himself.

[Effects of drunk freestyle rapping whilst sleep deprived]

Still grinning, Luna reached over and lightly pressed her palm against Dino’s forehead as if to check his temperature. Dino, too busy laughing at his own slip-up, didn’t even react to the gesture.

“Our parents’ meeting manager are Dino’s parents,” Wonwoo suddenly clarified, his tone dry but helpful. His calm explanation cut through the lingering laughter, drawing a series of “Ahh’s” from PD Na and the crew.

“Why does it still sound so confusing? Is it because it’s early in the morning?” Luna furrowed her brows in mock frustration, her thoughtful expression earning another round of chuckles from those around her. Determined to simplify things, she leaned forward slightly, addressing PD Na as though she were explaining a complicated concept to a child.

“All you have to know is that whenever our parents have a meeting, Dino’s parents manage it,” she explained slowly, her tone laced with humor and exaggerated patience.

[Got it]

The crew erupted into laughter at her delivery, and PD Na couldn’t hold back another chuckle as he shook his head. Even some of the members, who were used to Luna’s dry wit, found themselves laughing all over again.

“Noona…” Seungkwan muttered between laughs, reaching over to lightly slap her shoulder. Luna giggled at his playful reprimand, the sound light and carefree.

“Good job,” Jeonghan said gently, his soft voice carrying over the laughter. His expression was calm, but the amused sparkle in his eyes revealed how much he enjoyed Luna’s antics.

“Alright. Thank you, Luna,” PD Na said, finally composing himself as he turned back toward Dino. He motioned toward the youngest with a smile. “Then, our youngest Dino…”

“Should we have our youngest do it?” Woozi interjected, seamlessly finishing PD Na’s thought.

“We will have him be the manager… okay then,” PD Na finalized with a nod, the decision now official.

“I will cherish it carefully,” Dino said, his tone serious as he reassured the group.

PD Na retrieved a pouch that contained the money and handed it over to Hoshi, who was still sitting at the end seat of the row. Hoshi took it with both hands, inspecting it briefly before passing it down the line. The pouch made its way from member to member until it finally reached Dino, who accepted it with a wide grin. He adjusted the strap and wore it around his neck like a sling bag, the pouch now resting securely at his side.

“It’s a million won per person, and we just added S.Coups’,” PD Na explained, his tone clear and steady.

“Thank you,” the members chorused in unison, their voices blending together.

“You can think of it as S.Coups giving you the million won,” PD Na added with a small smile.

“Okay,” Woozi responded succinctly, his calm tone bringing the moment to a close.

“Second thing is that there’s a schedule,” PD Na announced, his voice carrying a tone of amusement, knowing this was about to spark some opinions among the group.

From the front seat, PD Na reached into a folder and pulled out neatly printed sheets of paper. “I will give this out to everyone, so take a read,” he continued, holding the stack up before passing it to Hoshi, who was closest to him.

Hoshi took a sheet, glancing at it briefly before turning to his right and handing the rest to Seungkwan, who did the same, passing it along the line. The papers made their way around the bus, with members unfolding them and scanning the itinerary for their week-long adventure in Italy.

“I’m a P, so I like going around comfortably,” Seungkwan remarked, breaking the silence, his tone light yet purposeful. His comment referred to his MBTI type, one that favored spontaneity over strict planning.

“I’m a J,” Mingyu interjected, clearly enjoying the thought of a structured schedule. He held the paper up, studying it with genuine interest, as though he were preparing for a quiz.

“Me too,” Jeonghan chimed in lazily, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, hinting at his agreement with Mingyu.

“I’m a J too,” Wonwoo added, nodding solemnly as if this was a matter of great significance.

“Me too,” Luna echoed, her eyes scanning the paper in her hands with a satisfied expression. “Seeing a written schedule puts me at ease,” she told PD Na with a small, sincere smile that made the staff in the front grin at her remark.

“I’m a J too,” Woozi said from his seat, his voice calm but with a hint of irritation creeping in. “I’m a super J. This situation is kind of… this situation is kind of annoying. There is not much planning at all. It wasn’t even in my expectations,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly. His blunt honesty drew laughter from the crew and PD Na, who were no strangers to Woozi’s meticulous tendencies.

“Me too,” Wonwoo and Luna said in unison, glancing at each other briefly before chuckling.

“It’s not easy,” Woozi continued, his voice tinged with mild frustration.

“I need to cancel my plans too,” Wonwoo added, his tone calm but laced with subtle sarcasm.

[The introverts struggle]

“Wow… six nights and seven days is crazy,” Mingyu marveled, his excitement shining through.

“‘More than 20 years of travel experience leading group tours,’” Seungkwan read aloud from the itinerary, his tone skeptical as he squinted at the line. He raised his head, his expression thoughtful. “I need to see first if the cell phone number is real,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“There’s a phone number there,” one of the writers seated in the front informed them, amused by the group’s antics. “You can contact the guide throughout 24 hours.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked, looking up from the paper with a mixture of curiosity and mischief.

“I hope that you don’t bother me when I am sleeping,” PD Na replied, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness that made the members chuckle.

“Is this Young Seok’s actual phone number?” Woozi asked, his brow furrowed as he stared at the itinerary, referring directly to PD Na.

“Yes, it’s my real number,” PD Na confirmed with a grin.

“Wow, I got his number,” Mingyu said, his tone filled with mock astonishment, as though he’d just obtained the contact information of a celebrity.

“I got a celebrity’s number,” Woozi added dryly, his expression stoic but his comment drawing hearty laughter from the crew and members alike.

For a few moments, silence settled over the bus as the members, one by one, reached for their phones. The faint sound of fingers tapping against screens filled the air as they diligently saved PD Na’s number into their contacts.

“If you look at the first thing in the beginning, included are optional tours and pocket money. We give you all meals. All dorms are included. We sometimes play with you too, and there’s even free time,” PD Na explained, pausing briefly to gauge their reactions.

“When we arrive in the afternoon at Rome, we will sleep for a night and then head towards Tuscany countryside the next day,” he continued, glancing down at his notes.

“Crazy,” Mingyu sighed, leaning back in his seat, his excitement palpable.

“Is there anyone who has heard of Tuscany countryside?” PD Na asked, scanning the group for any reactions.

“Yes,” Luna said, her voice calm as her eyes stayed glued to the paper in her hands, scanning every line.

“That’s the birthplace of wine,” Jeonghan suddenly chimed in, his voice filled with faux seriousness, as if sharing a well-kept secret. Luna’s lips twitched into a smirk as she spotted that very phrase written on the paper in front of her.

[Correct]

“It’s written here,” Dino pointed out, lifting his own paper and holding it up slightly to emphasize his words. The way he deadpanned it made Jeonghan snicker, knowing he’d been caught red-handed.

“He’s just showing everyone he can read,” Luna teased, her smirk growing as she leaned back comfortably, giving Jeonghan a playful side-eye.

[Correct again]

Jeonghan turned to her with a faux look of offense before leaning across Dino, who was seated between them. “Yah, you’re going to regret that,” he murmured under his breath, his tone dripping with mischief.

Luna barely glanced at him, her smirk unwavering. “Oh, am I?” she whispered back, keeping her voice low but laced with amusement. “Because right now, it just sounds like you’re salty you got caught.”

Jeonghan’s grin widened, and without missing a beat, he reached over and poked her side. The sudden jab made Luna squeal and squirm in her seat, batting his hand away as she laughed.

“Stop it,” she hissed between giggles, her eyes narrowing at him in mock annoyance. “You’re such a child.”

“And you’re too confident for someone who screams that easily, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan retorted with a teasing lilt, leaning back into his seat as if he’d won the exchange.

Their playful banter earned a few chuckles from the other members, and Luna rolled her eyes, muttering, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jeonghan simply smirked, clearly satisfied with himself.

PD Na cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “So if you go to Tuscany, we rented out a country farm that is surrounded by a wine farm,” he continued, his tone growing more enthusiastic as he described their accommodations. “We are going to stay there for three nights. There’s a swimming pool at the dorm, and so that you guys can work out… there’s workout equipment.”

“There’s workout equipment?” Mingyu repeated, his tone rising with excitement as he perked up in his seat. His energy was infectious, and most of the members clearly shared his enthusiasm at the mention of exercising equipment.

“I’m so happy,” Woozi said, his voice quiet but genuinely pleased as he and Mingyu huddled next to each other, their excitement palpable.

[Equipment excites them the most]

“Cute,” Luna said with a chuckle, watching the two of them with a fond smile.

“And once the trip is all finished,” PD Na said, his tone taking on a sly edge, “PLEDIS will come back when we put you all in a hotel. They are going to take over from there.”

The reminder of going back to work made the members groan lightly, their faces shifting from excitement to reluctant acceptance.

PD Na chuckled at their expressions before adding, “They are going to take all of you to film your music video.”

[Tokyo > Incheon > Rome > Budapest]

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go,” Wonwoo said, chuckling softly as he shook his head.

“I really don’t want to go,” Dokyeom echoed, his dramatic delivery earning a round of laughter from the group.

“Take a read and please ask if you have anything you’re curious about,” PD Na said, gesturing for them to review their schedules further.

The group obliged, their eyes darting back to the sheets of paper in their hands.

After a moment of silence, Dino raised his hand slightly. “But the thing I am curious about the most… on the fourth day, after we come back to the dorm and have dinner…” Dino trailed off, glancing at the paper as if unsure how to phrase his question.

“Talent show,” Luna said, cutting in smoothly. She didn’t even need to look at Dino to know exactly what he was about to ask, her tone confident.

“It says talent show,” Dino confirmed, nodding in agreement before continuing, “I am thinking that this talent show will be a lot of fun.”

The members chuckled, clearly intrigued by the concept. The lighthearted nature of the trip was already getting to them, and the mention of a talent show only added to their growing excitement.

“It’s ‘Talent Show,’ parenthesis ‘Get your airtime,’” Seungkwan translated, emphasizing PD Na’s not-so-subtle motive with an exaggerated tone that sent the group into laughter.

“Yes, we have all participated in a talent show when we were in elementary and middle school,” Dino said, his nostalgic comment drawing nods of agreement.

“It’s so nice,” Mingyu said, his excitement still evident as he grinned.

“I’m excited,” Luna chuckled, her voice warm with anticipation.

“I think it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Dino said again, his tone thoughtful.

“It’s so nice,” Mingyu repeated, practically glowing.

“It’s really so nice,” Seungkwan added, his voice filled with exaggerated enthusiasm.

The members were clearly buzzing with excitement, the sudden trip to Italy and the promise of fun-filled activities rejuvenating them. They hadn’t had a proper vacation in a while, and it showed in the way they talked over each other and laughed more freely.

“I really thought it was my birthday. All of the members come in on my birthday, but then I realized not everyone was there,” Jeonghan said, chuckling as he reminisced about their chaotic wake-up call earlier that day.

“Other than that day, there is no need for them to come in,” Woozi added, his tone matter-of-fact, which only made the others laugh.

“Yes,” Dino agreed, nodding sagely as if he were speaking from experience.

“‘Is it my birthday?’” Jeonghan re-enacted what he thought earlier, scrunching his face in mock confusion and rubbing his temple as though he were trying to recall the date.

[It isn’t]

Luna burst into laughter at his impression. “Cute,” she said, her laughter bubbling over. “I can imagine your face trying to remember if it is your birthday.”

Her laughter slowed as she suddenly deadpanned, “I thought I was actually gonna get kidnapped.” Her comment immediately drew roars of laughter from the group as they remembered the chaos of earlier that morning— her scream, her phone flying across the room at PD Na, and how she’d fallen off the bed, right onto Jeonghan.

[Confusion everywhere]

“It’s been a while since it’s been fun,” Hoshi said, his voice warm as he smiled. The group nodded in agreement, the atmosphere on the bus growing lighter with every passing moment.

Soon, the bus rumbled softly to a stop in front of Narita Airport in Tokyo, its hum dying down as the doors hissed open. Na PD’s crew began moving first, organizing their equipment and signaling for the members to file out. Inside the bus, the members stirred from their seats, gathering themselves in varying states of excitement and curiosity.

Jeonghan stood first, stretching his arms before turning to Luna, who was still seated. “Ready, Cherry’s mom?” he teased, nodding toward the bunny plushie she was holding.

Luna smirked, adjusting the plushie in her arms. “Let’s go, Cherry’s dad.” Her voice was light, filled with humor.

The group began stepping off the bus one by one, their chatter filling the crisp air of the airport drop-off area.

Luna walked in between Jeonghan and Wonwoo, linking her arms with theirs as the three joined the rest of the group heading toward the terminal. Na PD and his crew led the way, occasionally glancing back to ensure everyone was following.

“Then, did you fool us with our plane time too?” Dokyeom asked as they walked, his curiosity piqued. He turned to the crew, his eyes narrowing slightly in mock accusation.

“Right,” Wonwoo agreed, glancing at Dokyeom before looking ahead. His voice was calm, but his expression hinted at amusement.

“That’s exactly what happened,” Luna said matter-of-factly, her tone teasing as she glanced at Dokyeom with a knowing smirk.

[More lies]

“Yes, since the time we are leaving is completely different,” Jeonghan added, his voice smooth as he leaned slightly closer to Luna.

The group moved as a unit through the terminal, their steps echoing in sync on the polished floors. Some of the members were talking amongst themselves, their voices overlapping in excitement. Others were simply taking in the surroundings, marveling at the fact that they were, once again, heading off on an unexpected adventure.

“It’s nice because it’s not confusing,” Jeonghan remarked as he and Luna walked in tandem. He held onto one hand of Cherry’s plush paw while Luna held the other. The two of them swung the plushie mindlessly between them, a small, unspoken rhythm that reflected their easy chemistry.

“Yes, it’s neat. Really neat and smooth,” Woozi chimed in, walking on Jeonghan’s other side. His voice was quiet but appreciative, his eyes darting between the bustling airport and his groupmates.

“That’s because we have nothing with us,” Luna pointed out, her tone laced with dry humor.

“Right. It’s because we have no luggage,” Dokyeom agreed from a few steps behind her, laughing softly.

“It’s the quickest airport procedure of our lives,” Luna chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s kind of really nice,” Dokyeom said again, as if savoring the simplicity of the moment.

“It’s comfortable because we didn’t bring anything,” Jeonghan added, his hand still swinging Cherry’s paw along with Luna’s.

“It reminds me of our rookie days,” Luna said, glancing between Jeonghan and the other members, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

“Right! Kind of like our debut days. It kind of feels like we’re going to do our reality show during our rookie days,” Dokyeom said, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone.

“That feeling is strong right now,” Mingyu agreed, his steps quickening slightly as excitement bubbled up in him.

The members nodded and hummed their agreement, a subtle wave of nostalgia washing over the group as they continued toward their gate. The ease of movement, the lack of baggage, and the sense of spontaneity took them back to their earliest days as a group, stirring a shared sense of camaraderie.

Soon, the group transitioned from the bustling terminal to the jet bridge, the narrow tunnel leading to their plane. The sound of footsteps reverberated in the enclosed space, a blend of sneakers and boots padding against the floor. Na PD’s crew followed closely behind, carrying their cameras and equipment, ready to capture every moment.

At the back of the group, Hoshi held a GoPro, his mischievous grin evident as he aimed it toward Jeonghan and Luna, who were walking at the front. The two were still holding Cherry’s plush paws, mindlessly swinging the bunny up and down as they led the group.

Hoshi tilted his head slightly, his voice low as he muttered to the camera, “It’s mom and dad.” He couldn’t hold back a quiet snicker, clearly amused by the scene unfolding in front of him.

He lifted the GoPro a little higher and called out, “Mom! Dad!”

Surprisingly, both Jeonghan and Luna turned at the same time, their synchronized movement almost comical. Jeonghan raised his eyebrows, his expression playful as he waved at the camera, while Luna smiled softly, lifting her hand to wave as well.

Hoshi burst into laughter behind the camera, clearly pleased with their reaction. “See? Perfect synchronization,” he muttered, angling the camera back toward himself for a brief second before returning it to the pair in front.

[Bunny telepathy]

Jeonghan and Luna exchanged a quick glance, sharing an amused smile at Hoshi’s antics before continuing down the jet bridge. The group followed closely behind, the air buzzing with anticipation as they prepared to board the plane.

The cabin of the plane was bathed in a soft glow as the members of SEVENTEEN filed into the business class area. The plush, spacious seats seemed to call to them like a siren’s song after their hectic schedules. Each member took their assigned seat, a blend of quiet murmurs and rustling filling the air as they settled in. The exhaustion from the concert the night before, the early morning spontaneity of the trip, and their general lack of sleep over the past few days hung over them like a heavy blanket.

Almost as soon as they sank into their seats, many of the members began to drift off.

Mingyu was the first, his head lolling to the side, eyes fluttering closed. Woozi, seated next to him, barely made it to buckling his seatbelt before slumping against the window, his breaths evening out. Jun let out a soft sigh, his hands tucked beneath his head as he leaned back, his eyelids heavy.

One by one, most of them succumbed to their exhaustion, the hum of the plane’s engines serving as an unintentional lullaby.

In the middle of the cabin, Luna was seated beside Jeonghan. Her head rested on his shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she fiddled with her phone, finishing a text to her mom. Jeonghan, meanwhile, held his phone to his ear, speaking softly into it. His voice was low and soothing, a stark contrast to the lively energy he had displayed just hours earlier.

“Yes, Mom,” Jeonghan said, his tone warm as a small smile tugged at his lips. “We’re about to board. Well, we’re already seated, but we haven’t taken off yet.”

Luna shifted slightly against his shoulder, listening to the gentle cadence of his voice as her own exhaustion started to catch up with her.

“Oh, that’s good,” his mom replied on the other end, her voice audible enough for Luna to catch the affection in her tone. “How are you? Are you eating well? You’ve been so busy.”

“I’m fine, really,” Jeonghan reassured her, his voice soft. “I’m eating enough, sleeping when I can. Don’t worry too much.”

“And Jiyeonie? Is she there with you?” his mom asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Jeonghan glanced down at Luna, whose head was still resting on his shoulder, her phone now dark in her lap. A faint smile crossed his face. “Yes, she’s right here,” he said.

“Let me see her!” his mom exclaimed eagerly.

Jeonghan chuckled quietly, already switching the call to a video call. “Okay, okay, hold on.” He adjusted his phone, angling the camera toward Luna.

Luna, who had been close to dozing off, blinked and turned her head toward the phone. “Hmm?” she murmured, her voice drowsy but curious.

Jeonghan nodded, holding the phone steady. “She wants to see you.”

Luna straightened slightly, her smile sleepy but warm as she waved at the camera. “Mom, hello,” she said softly.

“Ah, Jiyeonie!” Jeonghan’s mom beamed through the screen, her voice bright with affection. “It’s so nice to see you. I miss you! Are you taking care of my son?”

Luna chuckled softly, her cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “I’m trying my best,” she replied. “He’s doing well, though. You don’t have to worry.”

“I still worry,” Jeonghan’s mom said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You both look so tired. Are you getting enough rest?”

“We’re okay, really,” Luna said, her voice gentle. “We’ve just had a busy few days, but we’ll get some rest now.”

Jeonghan’s mom nodded, her expression softening. “Good. Take care of each other, okay? And don’t forget to eat. Jeonghan-ah, you make sure Jiyeonie eats too!”

“I always do,” Jeonghan said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

After a few more exchanges, Jeonghan’s mom ended the call with a warm, “Stay safe, have fun, call me when you can, and don’t worry about the dinner— we’ll reschedule it with you guys. Love you both!”

“Love you too, Mom,” Jeonghan and Luna chorused before ending the call. He placed his phone on the tray table, turning to Luna with a faint smile.

“She loves you more than me at this point,” he teased, his voice soft.

Luna let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against his shoulder. “Well, I am lovable,” she replied lightly, her voice tinged with drowsiness.

Jeonghan smirked, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. “That you are,” he said quietly.

For a moment, the two sat in comfortable silence, the hum of the plane and the soft snores of the other members surrounding them.

“Are you going to fall asleep like this?” Jeonghan asked, glancing at her head resting on his shoulder.

Luna hummed in response, her eyes already closed. “Might as well. You’re comfy.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shifting slightly to make her more comfortable. “I’m honored,” he murmured.

“Good,” Luna mumbled, her voice fading as she drifted off.

Jeonghan leaned his head back against the seat, his hand brushing against hers as they both succumbed to the quiet, shared exhaustion.

The plane began to taxi down the runway, but neither of them noticed, already lost to sleep.

The flight from Tokyo to Incheon had been brief, allowing the members a chance to catch some rest, though it didn’t do much to diminish their exhaustion.

[Tokyo > Incheon]

Once they landed at Incheon International Airport, the group made their way to the waiting lounge for their connecting flight to Rome. The lounge was spacious and quiet, with large windows offering a view of the tarmac where planes taxied to and fro under a pale morning sky.

SEVENTEEN, Na PD, and his crew spread out across the lounge, everyone settling into their own routines.

Some of the members were on their phones, scrolling through social media or messaging friends and family. Hoshi, Minghao, and Wonwoo were sitting off to the side with PD Na, quietly chatting about the upcoming shoot, their voices blending with the hum of the air conditioning. DK and Mingyu had just returned from a quick run to the café, arms laden with cups of coffee, which they distributed to the group. Joshua accepted his cup with a grateful smile before promptly burying himself in his phone, while Woozi was already sipping his, his gaze distant as though lost in thought.

Luna was seated in a plush chair by the windows, her legs crossed as she leaned back, phone in hand. She had been unusually quiet, content to let the energy of the group swirl around her as she texted Seungcheol to update him on their whereabouts. Her messages were simple and to the point:

“We just landed in Incheon. Waiting for the flight to Rome now. Miss you already 🩷”

Luna knew he was probably already asleep due to their hectic morning, so she set her phone down for a moment, stretching her limbs as she yawned.

Jeonghan, who had been deep in conversation with Seungkwan a moment ago, glanced over and noticed Luna’s silence. Finishing his sentence with Seungkwan, he strolled over to her, his movements languid and unhurried. He came to a stop behind her chair, placing both hands on the armrests on either side of her, effectively trapping her in place. Leaning forward, he rested his chin lightly on top of her head, his breath warm against her hair.

Luna didn’t flinch at his closeness, already used to Jeonghan’s habit of invading her personal space with casual ease. She was scrolling through Instagram out of boredom whilst Jeonghan watched from his place. The two of them didn’t speak at first, simply existing in the same space, her calm energy complementing his presence. Jeonghan’s warmth seeped into her, grounding her in a way that words couldn’t.

After a few moments, Jeonghan moved— one of his hands left the armrest to cup the front of her neck, his fingers gentle but firm as he tilted her head back to look up at him. Luna found herself staring at him upside down, her sleepy gaze meeting his mischievous one.

“Hello,” Jeonghan said softly, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

“Hi,” Luna replied, her voice just as soft, a small, sleepy smile spreading across her face.

Jeonghan studied her for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in her posture and the faint pout tugging at her lips. He tilted his head slightly. “Bored already?” he asked, his tone a perfect blend of teasing and cooing.

Luna gave a small, upside-down nod, her hair brushing against the back of the chair as she moved.

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, his fingers tracing along the side of her neck before moving to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You’re so impatient,” he murmured, his voice gentle but laced with teasing. “We’ve barely even started, and you’re bored?”

“It’s not my fault,” Luna replied, her voice nonchalant but carrying a hint of a pout. “There’s nothing to do.”

Jeonghan’s lips twitched into a smirk, and he leaned down a little further, closing the distance between them. “Nothing to do?” he echoed, his tone mockingly scandalized. “You’ve got me here, don’t you? I’m plenty entertaining.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a small, sleepy smile. “Are you now?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, his voice dropping into a soft murmur. His fingers lightly trailed down her arm, the touch comforting and intimate as he let them linger near her wrist. “You should know by now that I’m an excellent distraction.”

Luna’s smile widened slightly, and she tilted her head just enough to nuzzle against his wrist where it rested near her neck. “I guess you’ll have to prove it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan chuckled, the sound low and warm. His fingers brushed against her jaw before sliding back down to her shoulder, his touch light and deliberate. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he murmured, his words carrying no real weight as they lingered in their shared bubble of calm.

“So are you,” Luna retorted, her voice soft but teasing, her gaze still locked with his.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the connection between them palpable as they remained in that position, his hands gentle and reassuring against her. The hum of the lounge faded into the background, leaving only the sound of their quiet breathing and the occasional soft rustle of movement.

Finally, Jeonghan shifted, his hand sliding down to intertwine with hers. He straightened, gently pulling her up out of her seat with an easy tug.

“Come on,” he said, his voice light and teasing as he gave her a small smile. “Let’s find something to entertain you before you drive both of crazy.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, letting him lead her away as they disappeared into their own little world.

With their hands intertwined, Jeonghan effortlessly picked up the GoPro that had been handed to them earlier, his movements relaxed yet deliberate. With a quick glance around the lounge, he noticed no one seemed to see that he and Luna quietly slipped out, their departure so seamless that even the crew failed to catch it.

[Bye-bye]

Jeonghan couldn’t help but smirk to himself as they strolled toward the shops just beyond the lounge, their fingers still laced together while Luna cradled Cherry in her other arm.

He powered on the GoPro, holding it up to capture them both in the frame. His voice was light and playful as he began his commentary. “Hello, everyone,” he started, his tone smooth yet mischievous. “We’ve escaped. The others don’t even know we’re gone.” He tilted the camera slightly to focus on Luna, who was already glancing at the shops around them with wide eyes.

[Starts his own vlog]

“And here we have our Jiyeonie,” Jeonghan continued in a faux-serious tone, adjusting the camera to show her from a flattering angle. “As you can see, she’s clutching her precious Cherry in one hand, and in the other…” He panned the camera to their intertwined fingers for a moment before swinging it back up to their faces. “Well, she’s stuck with me. Poor thing.”

[The ‘poor thing’ got dragged]

Luna, entirely unfazed by his narration, was too busy eyeing the displays of the shops they passed. Her attention flicked from one store to another, her curiosity piqued by the gleaming windows showcasing everything from luxury goods to quirky souvenirs.

Jeonghan chuckled, zooming in on her distracted expression. “Ah, look at her,” he mused, his tone now resembling that of a nature documentary host. “She’s spotted her prey— shiny shops filled with items she knows she can’t buy at the moment.” He pointed the camera toward the storefronts before swinging it back to Luna. “Why, you ask? Well, dear viewers, because we don’t have any luggage, and if we come back with bags, PD Na will murder us both.”

The comment made Luna snap out of her trance. She turned to him with a pout, her lips jutting out in a way that only made Jeonghan grin wider. “You’re so mean, Han,” she murmured, her voice soft yet carrying a playful edge.

Jeonghan lowered the camera slightly, his grin softening as he leaned down to meet her gaze. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his voice significantly gentler now, a soothing contrast to his earlier teasing. “You can shop all you want in Italy, hmm? We’ll have plenty of time there. I promise.”

Luna held his gaze for a moment, the pout on her lips easing slightly as she nodded. “Okay,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

But before she could say anything else— or before Jeonghan could continue his commentary— her eyes lit up, brighter than they had at the sight of any of the luxury stores they’d passed. Without warning, she let go of his hand, her entire being leaving the frame as she dashed toward one particular shop.

[Dash]

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before he followed her line of sight. A fond smile spread across his face as he saw where she’d gone.

Adjusting the GoPro, he pointed it toward the store’s sign: LEGO.

“Of course,” Jeonghan said with a chuckle, resuming his commentary. “Of all the shops, this is the one that catches her attention the most. I never thought I’d meet anyone who loves LEGO more than me, but here we are.”

He stepped closer, the camera capturing Luna as she stood just inside the store, her eyes scanning the shelves like a child in a candy store. Her gaze flitted from one set to another, her expression a mix of awe and delight.

[She is in love]

Jeonghan moved into the frame, angling the camera to show both of them. “This,” he said, gesturing toward her with an exaggerated flourish, “is what pure joy looks like. Forget diamonds and designer bags— Luna’s heart belongs to little plastic bricks.”

Luna, who had been admiring a particularly intricate set, turned her head slightly toward him without taking her eyes off the shelves. “I can hear you, you know,” she said, her tone nonchalant yet laced with sass.

Jeonghan grinned, zooming in on her face. “You were supposed to,” he replied, his voice lilting with amusement. “But you know we can’t get the big ones, right? There’s no way to get them to Italy.” His tone had softened again, now more gentle and coaxing, as if he were explaining to a child why they couldn’t take home every toy in the store.

“I know,” Luna replied simply, still admiring the sets. “I’m just looking.”

Jeonghan chuckled, shifting the camera angle to capture her in profile as she moved from one shelf to the next. “Just looking, she says,” he murmured, his tone now dipping back into his mock-documentary voice. “Like a lioness stalking her prey, she pretends not to be tempted, but we all know better.”

As he spoke, his own gaze wandered, landing on a set that immediately caught his attention. “Oh,” he said, his voice brightening slightly. “That’s a good one. I’ve been wanting that one for ages.”

From somewhere near the shelves, Luna’s voice drifted back to him, soft but teasing. “You’re no better than me.”

Jeonghan turned the camera toward himself, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. “And there it is, folks,” he said, addressing the imaginary audience. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

Luna’s laughter rang out, warm and light, filling the small store as she turned to look at him. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head.

[They are one and the same]

“And yet,” Jeonghan retorted, his grin widening as he gestured toward her with the camera, “you’re stuck with me.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “Lucky me,” she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jeonghan chuckled, stepping closer to her as he continued filming, the playful energy between them weaving effortlessly into their surroundings.

Luna drifted over to a wall filled with keychains, her excitement palpable as her eyes lit up at the array of tiny LEGO figures dangling neatly in rows. Her fingers brushed over the keychains as she began browsing through them with eager curiosity, her head tilting as she considered each option.

Jeonghan, ever the dedicated cameraman, kept the GoPro focused on her. His amused commentary continued as he watched her. “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” he announced in a dramatic tone, “we’ve entered the second phase of the Luna Shopping Saga: the keychain section. She’s excited. She’s focused. She’s in her element.”

Luna paused in her search and looked up at him, catching the lens of the camera pointed in her direction. Her dimpled smile appeared, soft and sweet, as she tilted her head slightly. “We should get matching keychains,” she said, her voice gentle yet tinged with excitement.

Jeonghan felt his grin widen involuntarily. He nodded, indulgent as ever, and said, “Alright, pick a good match for us. But remember,” he added with exaggerated gravity, speaking directly to the camera again, “I’m allowing her this one small purchase to hold her over for a while. She has some kind of shopping problem.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, immediately catching the teasing tone. “Excuse me,” she said, placing her hands on her hips with a playful scowl. “I do not have a shopping problem, and you’re making it sound like I do!”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his voice turning warm as he reassured her, “It’s a great problem to have, trust me. You’re allowed to spoil yourself. Now, come on,” he gestured toward the wall of keychains with the GoPro. “Pick one for us. No pressure, but make it a good one.”

[Proceeds to pressure the shopaholic]

Luna rolled her eyes but turned her attention back to the keychains, her fingers dancing over the little figures dangling before her. She started at the top, standing on her tiptoes to examine the higher rows, and slowly worked her way down, pausing every so often to pick up a keychain and inspect it closely.

By the time she reached the bottom row, she crouched down to get a better look, then, without hesitation, shifted to sitting cross-legged on the floor. It was as if she were perfectly comfortable there, oblivious to the cold tile beneath her.

[Plop]

Jeonghan immediately lowered the camera slightly, his voice taking on a gentle but scolding tone. “Nana-ya, don’t sit on the floor— it’s cold and dirty,” he said, though his fond smile betrayed any real disapproval

“It’s comfortable,” Luna replied simply, not even glancing up as she busily sorted through the keychains in her hands.

Jeonghan sighed softly, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he adjusted his stance. Then, without missing a beat, he brought his feet together in front of her. “Come here,” he said, his tone playful but full of affection, “sit on my shoes instead.”

Luna glanced up, raising an eyebrow at him but still grinning as she shifted forward, settling herself lightly on the tops of his shoes. “Better?” she asked, her voice teasing as she held up two keychains for a closer look.

“Much,” Jeonghan replied, resuming his commentary for the camera. “See, viewers, this is what true friendship looks like. Sacrificing my own feet so she doesn’t freeze her butt off on the cold floor. A hero, really.”

Luna huffed a soft laugh but ignored him, her attention fully focused on her task. After a few more minutes of deliberation, she held up two pairs of matching keychains for Jeonghan to see.

One set featured a pink Fairy Batman paired with a blue Bunny Batman, while the other was a classic pairing of Bugs Bunny and Lola Bunny. She held them out with wide eyes, her voice slightly pleading as she declared, “I want all of it.”

Jeonghan chuckled, the warmth in his voice unmistakable as he nodded. “Alright,” he said simply. You can get all of it.”

Luna’s smile grew impossibly wider as she stood up, tucking the keychains into her hand. “Yay!” she exclaimed, her happiness so genuine it made Jeonghan’s chest ache in the best way.

They made their way to the cashier, the GoPro still rolling as Jeonghan filmed the entire process. When they both reached for their wallets, pulling out their cards simultaneously, they smirked at each other knowingly.

Neither had forgotten how PD Na had explicitly told them not to bring their wallets.

[Both brought the wallets they were told not to bring]

Jeonghan angled the camera to show both of them holding their cards. “This,” he said with a grin, “is why we’re the perfect team. Same brain, same bad ideas.”

Luna turned to the camera, her expression playful as she reassured their audience, “Don’t worry, everyone. This is going to be our last purchase with our own money before the trip, I swear—”

She paused mid-sentence when she caught sight of her card in Jeonghan’s hand. He had smoothly taken it while she’d been talking and was now handing his card to the cashier instead. His smirk was pure mischief as he looked at her, clearly enjoying her reaction.

“Yoon Jeonghan!” she exclaimed, her voice half-indignant, half-amused as she playfully glared at him.

“What?” he asked innocently, tucking her card back into her hand. “You said you wanted it all.”

Luna could only shake her head, though her soft smile betrayed her amusement as the cashier handed over the keychains. She quickly instructed, “No bag, please. We can’t bring bags.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle as he pocketed the receipt. The two of them headed back toward the lounge, Luna busy clipping the keychains to her jeans as they walked. She attached the Lola Bunny and pink Fairy Batman to her belt loop, then turned to Jeonghan.

[No bag just style]

“Here,” she said, holding out the Bugs Bunny and blue Bunny Batman. She clipped them to his belt loop with care, her lips quirking into a soft smile as she worked.

Jeonghan glanced down, watching her with amusement. “I feel like I’m being accessorized,” he remarked, his tone light and teasing.

“You are,” Luna replied, not missing a beat. “Now hold still. These need to look good.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his voice softening as he cooed, “Anything for you, my little designer. Do I look cute yet?”

Luna smirked up at him, tilting her head. “You’ve never looked better,” she said with mock seriousness before bursting into a quiet laugh.

The two of them continued walking, their banter easy and filled with warmth, the keychains now swinging lightly from their belts as they made their way back to the lounge.

[No bag just vibes]

Back in the lounge, the members of SEVENTEEN were scattered about, finishing their conversations, sipping on coffee, or scrolling through their phones as the final minutes of their break ticked away.

PD Na, who had just finished discussing something with Minghao, Wonwoo, and Hoshi, glanced down at his watch. He tapped the face of it lightly before announcing, “I think we need to slowly get going. There’s fifty minutes left. They’ve started boarding.”

The members around him began stirring, stretching as they stood up and grabbed their belongings which was literally just their passports, tickets, and phones. Jackets pulled on and coffee cups disposed of in the nearby trash cans.

As the group moved to assemble in one spot, PD Na stepped slightly to the side and started counting the members. His eyes swept over each face, his lips moving as he silently tallied. Halfway through, his brow furrowed, and he stopped mid-count, his body stiffening as he flinched. He counted again, slower this time, his voice just audible enough to reveal his mounting concern.

“Eleven,” he muttered under his breath, blinking rapidly before raising his voice. “There’s only eleven of you. Who are missing?”

[Bunny 1 and bunny 2]

The sudden announcement caught everyone’s attention, and the members, now fully alert, began looking around at one another, their own mental counts kicking in. Having fourteen members meant this sort of thing happened often enough that it no longer surprised anyone, but it always took a moment to figure out who was gone.

Joshua, who had been standing closest to PD Na, took one quick look around the group and answered matter-of-factly, “Jiyeonie is obviously not here… so the other one has to be Jeonghan.” His tone was laced with a knowing amusement.

[Ding ding ding]

PD Na groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “We aren’t even there yet. Did I lose members already?” he muttered, looking at the remaining eleven as though hoping someone would magically produce the missing pair.

“Did they say where they were gonna go?” Seungkwan asked, already pulling out his phone and pressing it to his ear to call Luna.

“No one noticed they left,” Woozi added with a small shrug, though his tone carried no judgment.

Seungkwan’s phone call connected, and the group fell silent as they watched him speak. “Noona, where are y— ah… alright,” he said before hanging up. He turned back to the group with a small smile. “They’re on the way back.”

“Did they say where they went?” Hoshi asked, casually sipping his coffee, clearly unbothered by the delay.

“No,” Seungkwan replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Just that they’re on the way. But knowing noona… she probably went to buy something.”

PD Na let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head as though in disbelief. “S.Coups told me this would happen— said we’d lose her— but I didn’t expect it to happen this fast.”

Mingyu laughed softly, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “We aren’t even in Italy yet. Wait till we get there.”

[…]

As if on cue, Jeonghan and Luna appeared in the distance, walking at an unhurried pace that suggested they had all the time in the world. The two of them had no visible bags or large purchases, but their grins were wide and identical, as if they’d just accomplished something mischievous.

“Where did you two go?” PD Na asked the moment they were close enough, his tone bordering on exasperated.

“Hannie bought us matching LEGO keychains,” Luna said with a proud smile, pointing at Jeonghan as though he deserved full credit.

PD Na raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. “You don’t even have bags to put keychains o—” He stopped mid-sentence when Luna turned slightly, pointing at her own belt loop and then at Jeonghan’s. Dangling from each of their jeans were two pairs of keychains, one set featuring Bugs Bunny and Blue Bunny Batman and the other, a pink Fairy Batman with a Lola Bunny.

[Ta-da!]

The rest of the members burst into quiet chuckles, their amusement filling the lounge as they took in the scene. PD Na sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a small, defeated laugh. “You two are going to be a problem in Italy. I can already tell.”

Before he could say anything further, his head snapped back toward them, a new thought dawning on him. His eyes narrowed as he asked, “Where did you get money?”

[Oops]

At that, Luna’s expression shifted instantly. Her eyes darted upward, pretending to find sudden interest in the ceiling, and she took a small step backward as though to quietly remove herself from the conversation. The sight of her blatant attempt to escape made the members laugh harder, their voices echoing through the lounge.

[Peace out]

“Knowing those two,” Minghao said under his breath, loud enough for everyone to hear, “they brought their own cards.”

PD Na groaned, though the faint smile on his face betrayed his fond exasperation.

Jeonghan, as smooth as ever, simply smirked, leaning slightly toward PD Na. “Don’t worry,” he said in his signature charming tone, “we’re not going to use it in Italy. Promise.”

Luna, still avoiding eye contact, shuffled a little further away, muttering softly, “It was instincts.”

Jeonghan chuckled at her, reaching out to gently tug her back toward the group. “Come on, don’t leave me to take all the heat, Nana-ya,” he teased, his voice light and playful.

PD Na could only shake his head at the two of them, muttering something about how this trip was going to test his patience, while the rest of the members laughed at the predictable antics of Jeonghan and Luna.

A few minutes later, slowly but surely, SEVENTEEN and the production team filed into the jet bridge, chatting quietly amongst themselves as they prepared for the long flight ahead. The earlier flight had been short and easy, but this one was a long-haul international journey, and the members were already settling into a more relaxed mindset.

Once on board, they moved to their designated seats in the business class area, where spacious seating arrangements awaited them. The seats were wide, with plush cushions and blankets neatly folded on each one. Small amenity kits and bottles of water were already placed on their armrests.

Luna found herself seated in between Jeonghan and Hoshi. As she slipped into her seat, Jeonghan took the seat to her right, immediately reclining back and sighing in satisfaction. To her left, Hoshi was fiddling with the control panel on his seat, testing the reclining features and grinning when he was finally comfortable.

Around them, the other members were settling in, their chatter dying down as the reality of the lengthy flight sank in. Blankets were unfurled and draped over laps, earbuds were placed in, and some even pulled out neck pillows for extra comfort.

The hum of the plane was steady, a calm precursor to the hours ahead. With fifteen minutes left before the plane doors closed, the cabin was mostly quiet save for the occasional exchange of whispers or chuckles.

As the members settled into their seats, the cabin was filled with the quiet hum of activity. Some adjusted their blankets, reclining their seats to prepare for the long flight, while others scrolled through the in-flight entertainment. The calm was short-lived, however, when a sudden commotion broke out.

Mingyu, who had been rummaging through his seat, abruptly froze. His movements became frantic as he began looking around in growing panic. His wide eyes darted around the cabin as his face paled— he lost his passport.

Within moments, PD Na was signaling to a few crew members to follow him as he led Mingyu off the plane, presumably to retrace their steps back to the lounge where the passport might have been left behind.

In the meantime, the remaining members, now on high alert, began sifting through their own belongings. Pockets were checked and overhead compartments were double-checked, though all seemed to confirm that their documents were accounted for. Some glanced toward the front of the cabin, their expressions a mix of concern and mild amusement at the unexpected delay, while others leaned back in their seats, trusting that the issue would resolve itself soon enough.

A few minutes later, the tension was broken when one of the producers suddenly appeared in the aisle and announced, “The culprit was Dokyeom.”

The words immediately caught everyone’s attention. Heads turned, and even those who had been half-asleep looked up in curiosity.

“What?” Luna asked, lowering her phone as she blinked in confusion.

Jeonghan, seated next to her, glanced up from his own phone. “What did Dokyeomie do?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement but genuinely curious.

“He had Mingyu’s passport,” the producer said, clearly suppressing a grin.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Really?”

“Dokyeom brought it?” Jeonghan followed.

“Dokyeom was holding two,” the producer clarified, causing Jeonghan to chuckle alongside him.

“At least it’s not actually lost and it was just here,” Luna said, her tone lighthearted.

Her comment earned a laugh from Hoshi, who sat on her other side. “Imagine if Mingyu had actually lost it. That would’ve been a whole new level of disaster.”

[Don’t even try to imagine]

As the laughter subsided, Luna’s eyes drifted to the front of the cabin, where she spotted PD Na standing near Mingyu and Dokyeom’s seats. The producer looked visibly haggard, his shoulders slightly slumped as he spoke with the two members. His exasperation was clear, even from a distance.

Leaning slightly toward Jeonghan, Luna nudged him and pointed discreetly toward PD Na. “Look at him,” she said with a small laugh.

Jeonghan followed her gaze and chuckled softly. “He looks like he’s already had enough of us, and we haven’t even taken off.”

It didn’t take long for PD Na to notice them watching him. He straightened up, giving the pair a look that was equal parts tired and amused before shaking his head. “First those two disappearing,” he began, pointing at Jeonghan and Luna, “then another loses his passport,” he added, motioning toward Mingyu. “And now another is a kleptomaniac,” he finished, referring to Dokyeom.

[#HelpPDNa]

The comment earned loud laughs from Jeonghan, Luna, and the rest of the members who had been listening in.

“We are still in Korea,” PD Na said, turning to the camera crew as if speaking directly to the audience. His tone implied that too much had already happened before their journey had even properly begun.

[That we are]

Once everything was settled and back in order, the members eased into the rhythm of the flight, the earlier chaos a distant memory.

Next to Luna, Hoshi busied himself with the GoPro, the small camera in his hands capturing snippets of their journey. He hummed softly to himself, a lighthearted melody carrying through the cabin. “Vacation, vacation, vacation~,” he sang under his breath, his excitement palpable as his knee bounced slightly in anticipation.

Turning his attention to Luna and Jeonghan, he noticed how the two are starting to drifted off, their exhaustion catching up to them after the long day. Jeonghan’s head tilted slightly to the side, resting comfortably against the seat’s headrest, while Luna’s cheek was pressed gently into the cushion of her seat. Their blankets were pulled up snugly, rising and falling with each peaceful breath. Smiling fondly, Hoshi couldn’t resist reaching over and giving their cheeks a light, playful squeeze, their sleepy faces making him grin.

“This is really exciting. Going on vacation,” he murmured, his voice soft as he turned to Dino, seated at his other side. Dino, just as energized about the trip, leaned closer to chat with him, their quiet exchange blending seamlessly with the ambient sounds of the cabin.

Soon after takeoff, the cabin lights dimmed, signaling the start of the long-haul journey. Half the members, lulled by the gentle hum of the engines, opted to recline their seats fully and surrender to sleep. Blankets were spread across laps, pillows adjusted beneath heads, and soon the soft rustle of fabric and steady breathing filled the space. The calm was a welcome contrast to the earlier bustle.

Among those sound asleep were Luna, Jeonghan, and Hoshi, their trio now completely at rest. Hoshi’s GoPro was abandoned on his tray table, while Luna and Jeonghan remained cocooned in their seats. Their reclined positions, paired with the warm glow of the blanket light on their faces, gave them a serene appearance. The slow rise and fall of their chests matched the rhythm of the flight’s gentle turbulence, a reminder of the calm that had finally enveloped them.

[Peaceful at last]

Meanwhile, the other half of the group, resisting the pull of sleep, opted to peruse the in-flight menu instead. Quiet chatter accompanied the soft clinking of cutlery as the cabin crew moved swiftly to accommodate requests.

For the sleeping members, however, time slipped by unnoticed. Hours passed without interruption, and even as the faint aroma of lunch filled the air, those in slumber remained undisturbed, their bodies and minds recharging for the adventure that awaited them on the other side of the world.

By the time dinner service rolled around, the cabin lights were dim but warm, casting a comfortable glow over the business class section.

Jeonghan was awake, his seat upright as he stretched his arms above his head, the tension of sleep melting from his limbs. A small, serene smile tugged at his lips as he turned toward the camera stationed discreetly in front of them, acknowledging it with a soft, playful expression before glancing to his left.

His gaze landed on Luna, still sound asleep in her fully reclined seat.

Her petite frame was curled up beneath the thick airline blanket, which was pulled snugly up to her chin. In her arms, she cradled her plush bunny, Cherry, its long ears peeking out from the folds of the blanket. Her face was peaceful, her lashes fanned out against her cheeks as her breathing came in soft, even rhythms. The sight made Jeonghan’s smile grow, his heart softening at how impossibly small and endearing she looked in that moment.

Next to Jeonghan, Hoshi leaned over slightly to get a better look. “Are you gonna wake her?” he asked, his voice low but laced with curiosity, as if he too was reluctant to disturb Luna’s peaceful rest.

Jeonghan shifted, his attention never leaving her. “She needs to eat,” he murmured, his tone thoughtful.

His hand moved instinctively, resting gently on her back atop the blanket. He began to rub small, soothing circles between her shoulder blades, his touch feather-light and careful not to startle her awake. He’d done this before— more times than he could count… earlier morning for example— and he found he didn’t mind. Waking Luna had always been a gentle ritual, one he approached with the same patience and care each time.

“Nana-ya,” Jeonghan called softly, his voice warm and coaxing. His hand continued its slow movements, the rhythm steady and calming. “Nana-ya, wake up. Dinner’s here.”

Luna stirred faintly, her brows knitting together as she shifted her head slightly against the plush pillow. A faint hum escaped her lips, followed by a sleepy mumble that was barely audible.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Jeonghan continued, a tender laugh slipping from him as he leaned in a bit closer. “You need to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her gaze unfocused as she adjusted to the dim light of the cabin. “What time is it?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.

“It’s dinnertime,” Jeonghan replied, his tone soft and patient.

Luna blinked a few more times, her brain slowly catching up as she looked up at him with a dazed expression. “Where are we?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Still on the plane, somewhere on Earth,” Jeonghan answered with a quiet chuckle, his hand moving to gently smooth down her hair. “We’re nowhere near Italy yet.”

“Oh…” Luna mumbled, her eyes starting to close again as her head tilted back toward the pillow.

“Ah, no,” Jeonghan teased gently, his hand shifting to lightly tap her arm. “You’re not going back to sleep just yet. Come on, sit up for me.”

With a soft groan of protest, Luna pushed herself up, her movements sluggish and reluctant. Her seat began to rise as she adjusted the controls, her blanket still draped over her lap. As she sat upright, she spotted the camera in front of them, and her lips curled into a small, sleepy smile. Lifting a hand, she gave a slow, lazy wave to the lens, her fingers peeking out from the blanket.

Jeonghan watched her fondly, a quiet laugh escaping him as she rubbed her eyes with her free hand, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “There she is,” he said softly, the affection in his voice unmistakable.

Luna looked at him then, her smile widening ever so slightly. “Did you really have to wake me?” she murmured playfully, though her tone lacked any real complaint.

“You’ll thank me when you eat,” Jeonghan replied with a grin, his tone teasing but warm. “Trust me.”

And despite her initial reluctance, the look in her eyes as she glanced back at him said she did.

[Food wakes her up]

Once their dinner trays were placed in front of them, Jeonghan leaned back slightly, his eyes flicking toward the camera. He grinned, his voice carrying a playful tone as he turned to Luna and Hoshi. “I feel like the members are going to get there, take their clothes off, and play in the ocean.”

Luna let out a soft yawn, still fighting off the lingering tiredness that clung to her even after waking. “Sounds fun,” she murmured, her voice quiet as she eyed the neatly arranged meal on her tray. Her movements were slow as she began to pick up her utensils, ready to eat.

Jeonghan’s gaze dropped to Luna’s top, where the small mic had been unpinned during her nap. Gently, he reached over, fingers deftly working to pin it back in place. “Hold still,” he murmured softly as he secured it to her shirt again. Satisfied with his work, he pulled back and smiled.

Hoshi, seated on Luna’s other side, seemed to be in his own world as he peeked down inside his tank top. His fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling it away from his chest to inspect it. Nodding to himself, he looked up at Jeonghan. “My shirt is so droopy,” he commented, matter-of-factly.

Jeonghan glanced over and raised a brow, noticing how the damp fabric clung awkwardly to Hoshi’s frame, weighed down from earlier. “It does look a little loose,” Jeonghan remarked with a faint smirk before returning to his food.

Hoshi shrugged and grabbed his utensils, diving into his meal. He chewed thoughtfully before speaking again. “Rice is good with just seaweed and kimchi,” he announced, his tone betraying a hint of longing as he looked down at his tray.

At that, Hoshi frowned slightly, realizing his meal didn’t include any kimchi. He poked at the rice with his chopsticks before mumbling, “Oh, I want kimchi.”

As if the absence of kimchi was suddenly more unbearable, Hoshi began tugging at his tank top again, trying to adjust it. The fabric stubbornly refused to stay in place, slipping lower as he fiddled with it. Luna, noticing his subtle frustration, glanced over at him.

“Do you want to ask them?” she asked, her voice soft and amused as she subtly gestured toward a nearby flight attendant. Catching the woman’s attention, Luna gave her a polite smile and signaled for her to come over.

When the flight attendant approached, Hoshi looked up, his tone hopeful as he asked, “Is there kimchi?”

The attendant offered him an apologetic smile. “We don’t have kimchi. We have shredded radish. Do you want some?”

Hoshi paused for a moment, considering his options, before nodding. “I’ll take the shredded radish,” he said with a resigned but polite smile. The flight attendant nodded and left to retrieve it.

As they continued eating, Luna couldn’t help but notice Hoshi’s repeated attempts to adjust his shirt. The constant tugging at the back of his tank top had her stifling a chuckle. Setting her utensils down, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a hair clip.

[Fidgeting]

“Hold still,” Luna said softly, leaning toward Hoshi. Before he could react, she took the straps of his tank top from behind and neatly clipped them together, effectively tightening the fabric to keep it from drooping further.

Hoshi blinked, looking over his shoulder at her with a wide grin. “Thank you,” he said, his tone genuinely grateful.

Luna smiled at him, her voice light and teasing. “Your whole chest was out, Shi-shi.” She reached out to lightly stroke his cheek, her gesture brief but affectionate, before she returned to her own meal.

Hoshi’s grin widened as he glanced up, his attention shifting toward the flight attendant who was approaching with his shredded radish. His eyes followed her eagerly, earning an amused look from Luna.

“Cute,” she said softly, her words meant more for herself than anyone else, but Hoshi caught them and laughed quietly.

Almost immediately after the word left her mouth, Luna heard Jeonghan’s playful voice next to her. “How about me?” he asked, feigning the innocence of a child craving attention.

Without missing a beat, Luna, accustomed to Jeonghan’s antics, responded absentmindedly, “The cutest.” Her tone was soft, yet distracted, her attention focused on the food in front of her.

But Jeonghan, ever mischievous, wasn’t satisfied. He leaned closer and poked her side just below her ribs, the action causing Luna to squeal and squirm in her seat, her blanket shifting slightly in the process. She turned to glare at him, her cheeks puffing in mock annoyance, which only made him smirk wider, pleased with himself.

Before she could say anything to scold him, Jeonghan quickly pointed to the screen on his seat, his smirk morphing into an expression of pure delight. “They have Harry Potter,” he announced, his voice slightly higher with excitement.

The words worked like a charm. Luna’s faux irritation melted away in an instant, her eyes lighting up as she turned to him, her tone now eager. “Really?” she asked, leaning forward slightly to peer at his screen. “Can we watch?” she added softly, her excitement tempered only by her shyness in asking him to watch together.

Jeonghan gave her a small nod, his smile gentle now. “We’ll watch together,” he said simply, his voice reassuring and warm.

The smile that spread across Luna’s face at his words was unmistakably genuine. Wasting no time, she pulled up her own screen, quickly navigating through the selection to find the Harry Potter series. She scrolled down until she found the first film, her fingers tapping swiftly but carefully to make sure she didn’t miss it.

Once it was ready on her screen, she glanced at Jeonghan’s to make sure he was on the same page.

Meticulous as ever, Luna leaned closer to his seat, checking his screen’s timestamp to align it perfectly with hers. She adjusted the slider carefully, ensuring both would start at the exact same second. Her brows furrowed slightly in concentration as she tapped to play both screens simultaneously, finally sitting back with a small sigh of satisfaction.

[The dedication]

She reached for her earphones and gently untangled the cord before placing them on her ears. Jeonghan, already settled with his own earphones, gave her an approving look, noticing how precise she had been to make sure their viewing experience was synchronized.

As the familiar opening notes of the iconic Harry Potter theme filled their ears, Luna leaned back in her seat, a small, contented smile tugging at her lips. Jeonghan stole a glance at her, his gaze lingering for a moment as her expression softened into one of quiet joy, fully immersed in the opening scene.

The rest of the cabin was peaceful, the soft hum of the plane’s engines blending with the faint murmurs of the other passengers. The subtle glow of their screens illuminated Luna and Jeonghan’s relaxed expressions as they enjoyed the movie together, the atmosphere between them warm and comfortable.

Outside, the plane continued to soar through the darkened sky, carrying them closer to their destination.

The thought of Italy lingered at the back of everyone’s minds— a new adventure waiting just beyond the horizon.

[SEVENTEEN is on their way Italy]

For now, the members rested, ate, and entertained themselves, their excitement bubbling beneath the surface. Each mile traveled brought them closer to memories waiting to be made, laughter waiting to be shared, and experiences they would hold close long after the trip was over.

[To be continued in Clip 1-3]

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[arabellasleopardcoat]

Spring (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Slightly less unreliable narrator (Cregan has come to his senses, reader is on the way) Mature language.

A/N: I really thought these two would get their mess sorted out in nine scenes, but I was far too optimistic. Lucky me, I had one season as backup! Also, thank you so, so much for continuing to read this series and your kind comments!

IT IS FUNNY, how wrong can Cregan be about people. He is no longer afraid to admit it. He had been mistaken about you. 

The utter viciousness you had displayed, bringing up his dead wife, had only been a source of anger for him at first. He had thought you an evil little bitch, unafraid of exploiting weak spots to hurt him. 

Then, he had seen you with Rickon. And his world had just… Shifted. As if every piece of furniture in Winterfell had been moved exactly one inch to the left, and no one had told him, leaving him stumbling around in his own home.

You weren’t evil or jealous. Or, more likely, you were, but not because of some petty reason, it was because you were insecure. The mere idea was laughable, why would a Princess of the Realm be insecure? But it made too much sense for him to ignore. 

Each time Cregan had cracked a joke that compared you to Arra, like commenting on the number of packages and dresses you had brought from the South, you had taken it as a personal criticism. You felt unappreciated, so you lashed out and avoided him at every turn. 

You were kind, smart, and capable. Just not in the way Cregan was used to women being capable. The northern women were considered capable because they were physically strong, able to wield bows, ride hard and long or withstand the terrible weather. 

You, instead, shared Prince Jacaerys’ strength. You were honorable, unable to leave a child in need, and kind, enough that you would comfort them until their parents reached them. But most of all, you had a brain suited for politics. 

Cregan had never noticed before because he had never bothered to truly look at what you were doing, but your charities were to make your mother’s cause more popular with the smallfolk. He had heard your mother was doing a similar thing in the capital, delivering food to the starved population due to a blockade of the own Blacks’ making. Not that the commoners cared about the last part. They only cared about those who put food on their bellies. 

And perhaps the Queen dowager and Princess Helaena were popular in the South because of their involvement in the Septs, but you were exploiting the lack of those here. Without Septs, there were no Septas or Septons tending to the sick and poor. You were. And the North would remember, when it came time to march for your mother’s banners. 

Cregan would bet Ice that you were having tea with the northern ladies not to gain friends. The Old Gods knew you were an introverted creature, painfully awkward at niceties, much like he was. It explained why the two of you were so uncomfortable with each other. You were probably entertaining the northerns to win their loyalties, knowing the combined pressure of Cregan’s oath and their wives would make his lords more eager to drop coin and men for your war. 

Oh, if Cregan got you on his side, the two of you would be a force to be reckoned with. He could already see how much security you could bring to the North, how well fed you could be during winter, if you decided to work with him and not behind him. 

You were a wonderful woman. Kind and tender to his son, smart as a whip, utterly terrifying when crossed. You would make a fine wife to any lord, and Cregan couldn’t believe how stupid he had been not to see it. You just needed to be encouraged, and Cregan, dumb as a rock, had been doing the exact opposite. 

While you hadn’t exactly been trying, Cregan was man enough to admit that part of the blame laid on him. He had been pushing you away without even realizing it, comparing you to Arra at every turn, without considering how that might come across to you. 

That ended today. He would prove himself worthy of your love and loyalty, and win you over. Cregan wasn’t a man of half measures. He would woo you or spend the rest of his life trying. 

Set in his decision, Cregan walked to your chambers. He waved off the guard’s attempt to announce him, casually strolling in. 

You were seated next to the fire, the leather-bound book you usually carried around spread over your lap. It was a heavy tome, bound in brown leather with golden engravings. It was written in High Valyrian, a language for which Cregan had little use, so he had never learned it beyond recognizing the alphabet. 

There was a striking beauty to your expression when you were at ease, the peaceful expression you wore becoming you much more than the usual frown you directed at him. Cregan found himself wondering how beautiful you must look smiling, if you looked this radiant when at peace. 

You had the sort of face to be lit up with happiness, he could already tell. His heart ached to be the one that finally coaxed it out of you.

“Princess,” Cregan calls, softly. You set your book aside, ready to get up and curtsy, but he halts you. “No need for that, wife. My ego is not so fragile I need my woman to bow to me.” 

“Lord Husband.” You reply, for once not frowning. Your face remains carefully neutral, which Cregan considers a victory. He would attribute it to his remark about his ego, but it is more likely due to guilt. He will take it regardless. 

“No need for that either, much less today.” Cregan smiles at you. “You may call me Cregan, if you wish. I am here to thank you for caring for my Rickon while I was away.” 

You look far more confused than you did before. You look like you want to approach him and run at the same time, your wool gown fluttering as you squirm in place, undecided if you are approaching or not. 

“I simply did my duty, my lord.”

Cregan’s smile widens, amused by you. 

“Singing him was part of it? By the Gods, I thought I had a wife and not a minstrel?” And the dry, northern humor doesn’t seem to suit you because you frown slightly. Cregan fights the urge to curse, instead making a mental note. You dislike being mocked, even in jest. He wonders what sharp words you had to endure in the South to be like this, and feels a wave of pity. Dark of hair and no dragon to shield you? Perhaps that was why you were far kinder to Sara than to him. He gives a tasteful cough. Or at least, his attempt at it. 

“I only meant to say you went beyond your duties, and I thank you for it. You didn’t have to, but it meant the world to him.” Cregan tries again, and you blink at him, as if he were unable to understand anything at all. 

“He is a child.” You say, slowly.  “No person would leave a child in need.” 

“You would be surprised.” Cregan thinks of how his own mother had treated Sara when she had arrived at Winterfell, treatment that hadn’t improved when his aunt took on as the Lady of the household. His sister had only known freedom after Cregan had taken over his seat, and she was still judged by the rest of the North, even though in a much subtle manner. 

“Mmm.” Your reply is noncommittal. 

“He has been asking me lately why he doesn't have a lady mother.” Cregan attempts again. He is not above using Rickon to have an excuse to spend time with you. And to his amusement, it does work. You pity his son more than him, it seems because you begin to pay him more attention.  

“What did you tell him?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. It’s a surprisingly cute gesture for the unshakable princess that you are. 

“I do not know. I have not answered him.” Cregan searches for somewhere to sit, but apart from the loveseat in which you are soaking up the warmth of the fireplace, there is none. He grabs the stool by your writing area, and brings it over. 

He sits on the stool across from you, wiggling a bit with how uncomfortable it is. It feels like his knees are on his chest, by the Gods. It’s clearly meant for a shorter person. Your rooms are not made for receiving visitors, he should have thought of that earlier. You need a space to receive people that isn’t the sitting room. What if you wish to have more private conversations?

“Surely he knows she is dead?” You are too caught up in your disbelief to protest that he is rearranging your furniture. Good. 

“He does, but doesn’t quite grasp what dead means.”  Cregan is being honest. Whoever has the heart to explain to a child of two namedays what death is, is a braver man than him. 

“Perhaps you could say she is in the Seven Heavens?” Your frown comes back, but this time it isn’t angry. Instead, it’s puzzled. You are trying to help him, and it makes him fight the urge to smile. He doesn’t want you to think that he is mocking your suggestion. 

“We do not believe that here.” 

“Neither do I.” And this time, there is the barest beginning of a playful smile on your lips. Oh, you minx! Cregan smiles to himself, charmed. It emboldens him to continue. 

“Just, I would like it if you saw him more often. With me. Perhaps… He has asked about you, and I am not asking you to replace her but I… He sometimes needs a more feminine touch.” 

“Of course.” You agree. And he can see in your eyes you think he might be trying to use you as a stand in for Arra, not truly believing his words, but that is alright. Cregan will show you. Or at least, he is going to do his very best attempt. 

YOU MAKE SURE there are enough pastries and hot water available before you stand up.

“I am afraid I must leave you, my ladies. But you are welcome to continue enjoying the hospitality of Winterfell.” The sitting room is filled with northern women. You have begun inviting them for tea twice a moon, trying to ensure your mother will have all the support she needs when she takes King’s Landing. 

It has proven to be quite the difficult task. Northerns are often suspicious of outsiders, and from what you have learned through these gossip sessions, they rarely marry southrons. The only ones who do are the most important Houses, like the Starks or the Boltons. It means that most of your ladies are northern by birth, and not through marriage as you are. 

“This early?” Lady Mormont asks, bluntly. Her bluntness had discomfited you during your first meetings, but you have come to find it refreshing. “Princess?” She tacks on, remembering she is supposed to mind her courtesies with you. 

“This early.” You confirm, with a smile. You have planned the time of this tea with precision for this same motive, knowing it will appeal to their loyalty, but also allow you to escape the socializing. “I have a play date with my Lord Husband and little Rickon.” 

One of the ladies coos. Lady Mormont barks out a laughter. 

“Ah, to be a young woman with that many suitors.” 

“Only the very best.” You smile, and leave them to feast on the pastries. 

You make your way to Cregan’s solar at a leisure pace. The crushed velvet gown you are wearing is in a blue so pale it almost looks like the gray of House Stark. It is one of your old ones, meant to evoke House Velaryon’s colors. It fits you again, having gained a bit of weight during your time in the North. You hope it is a gown suitable for playing with a toddler. 

As you enter, you notice Rickon is arriving as well, tugged along by a maid. He chirps a greeting to you, a mix of your name and title that sounds more like gibberish. Yet, you are helpless to him.

“Rickon!” You kneel by him, as he runs to be picked up. You indulge him, smelling his hair as you lift him. He smells of sweet innocence, and a bit like Cregan. You hate that you cannot hate him or be indifferent any longer. The little boy has stolen your heart. 

Rickon gives you a toothy smile, his hands clumsily going to cup your face. Who can resist him? Not you. 

“I see you found each other.” Cregan leans against the door, smirking. He holds two cups. “Warm milk with honey. For the cold.”

You cannot help but smile a little. 

“Our knight in shining armor!” You tease, more for Rickon’s benefit than him. “Let us in, good Ser. So I can place my little wildling down and he can drink it.” 

Cregan laughs and moves aside to let the two of you pass. As you do so, you cannot help but notice how much space he takes up, tall and wide. Your eyes linger on his shoulders. You have not seen him wield Ice yet, but you have seen the sword. He has to have considerable strength to do so. 

The thought is strangely thrilling. Your stomach does a somersault, but before you have time to analyze it, Rickon begins to squirm in your arms. 

“Down! Down! Doggie!” He pleads. You look to see what has caught his attention and notice that Cregan has moved the rug so it lays by the fireplace, and placed some of Rickon’s toys there, including his more favored one: A soft cotton white wolf. 

You set Rickon down and take one of the cups from Cregan. Both of you sit down on the rug as well, and watch Rickon play with his wolf, ignoring his cup of milk. You have come to learn that playing with an only child is much different than playing with your younger siblings, Rickon mostly plays alone and wants you there to show you things. 

It forces you to keep conversations with your husband, if only because the silence would be too awkward otherwise. 

“I have arranged for us to have tea when Rickon tires.” Cregan informs you, a bit stiff.

“Oh, I already had tea with the…” You start, before Cregan interrupts you. 

“You are far too thin still. Besides, I know your tea spreads are made of mostly northern sweets. I asked the cooks to make one of your favorites, Prince Jacaerys was kind enough to set up correspondence for me with the cooks of Dragonstone.” 

It’s awfully thoughtful of him, and you will examine it later because your mind is still stuck on one tiny detail. One that infuriates you. 

“You are corresponding with Jace?” You ask, trying hard not to sound violent. After all, he has been very kind to you as of late, and guilt has begun to creep in for your careless words about his late wife. Not that you will apologize or anything. You intend to pretend nothing happened and be extra nice to Cregan, indulging Rickon and him on all the tea and play dates in the world. 

“I am. He would be very pleased if you stopped burning his letters.” His tone is chiding, though gentle. You take a deep breath in. Jace, the traitor. Cregan keeps his tone kind. “He still grieves your brother, Princess. Do not make him mourn a sister in life.” 

“Does he think I shall never forgive him?” You ask him, baffled. Rickon begins building a tower with blocks on the rug, insisting that the two of you aid him in building Winterfell, so Cregan’s answer is delayed. As you place some blocks to make the entrance, you have time to think over his words. 

All alone in Dragonstone, Jace must be feeling as lonely as you are. Only more because he has no Cregan and Rickon to stand with him. 

What he had done was a deep betrayal in your eyes, but was it truly? You had known you would have to marry eventually, and it probably wouldn’t be a love match. Jace had done the best he could in the terrible circumstances you were in. Moved by his fear of losing another sibling, he had entrusted you to Cregan because he thought you could be happy here. Safe. 

And you were. There was no fiercest protector for you apart from your husband. After marrying him, no one had dared even to breathe the rumors of your bastardy, and he even worried about what you ate, by the Gods’ sake!

“You can hold a grudge.” Cregan says, cautiously, when Rickon is distracted by his cup of milk and begins to attempt drinking it. Usually, drinking his milk is followed by passing out, so he is careful to support him in his lap. The sight makes your chest feel oddly warm. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was bad. 

You were falling in love with Cregan. 

“Perhaps I don’t want to any longer.” You say, looking into his eyes. You are no longer speaking of Jace. 

Cregan seems to catch on your meaning because he reaches forward and takes your hand in his. Fixated on how big and warm his hand feels against yours, you almost miss his soft words. 

“Neither do I.”

SARA’S EYES, GREY and so much like his father’s, are fixed on him. Cregan tries to ignore her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of appearing uncomfortable. But before the hour passes, he is squirming in his chair, unnerved by her silent stare. 

Sara continues to stare. Cregan refuses to speak to her. After a while, she sets down the book she has taken from his shelves, a dreadfully boring account of the battles fought by the Kings of Winter, and perches her chin in her hands. 

That way, her staring is much more obvious. She is comfortably laid back in one of the armchairs he has in his solar. Cregan likes company when he works, and it’s easier to ask for her opinion if she is right there. Unfortunately, it also means she can stare at him for hours on end if she so wished.

“What?” Cregan asks, when he can’t take it any longer. He pushes away the reports about the safety of Wintertown and how prepared they are for winter, and looks up at her. She still doesn’t speak. “Sara!” 

“Apologies, brother.” By her smile, she is anything but sorry. “I just find it fascinating.” 

Cregan sighs. He doesn’t really want to bite, but if he doesn’t, Sara’s teasing will get worse and worse.

“What is fascinating?” 

“How you have managed to turn into a spineless southron in less than two moons.” Cregan can only gape at her. What is she going on about? “Not only have you turned timid, you are also a moron. And cunt struck. Well, are you? I know you are not getting any, does one need to actually be bedding the woman to be cunt…” She doesn’t even finish her words, cackling with laughter.

His face grows hot, burning with embarrassment. 

“I should have married you to an Umber and be done with it.” He mutters, under his breath, which only makes her cackle further. Both of them know that Sara would never be married off as if she were some cattle. Cregan loves her too much for it, and she is a deeply independent woman. 

“Who would advise you, then?” She asks him, brazenly. “Your sweet little wife? While she is great at wrangling lords and ladies, I doubt she has the stomach for warfare.” 

“There is a certain innocence to these Velaryons, yes.” At his words, Sara glares. She hates to be reminded she had not been as immune as she liked to think she was to Prince Jacaerys’ charms. “But if the worst comes to pass, I actually intend to have her hold Winterfell alongside you and Rickon.” 

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Sara approves. “Shall you march south, Rickon and I will suffice.” 

“I wish to begin teaching her, when she no longer seems willing to murder me.” 

“I think she isn’t willing to murder you any longer.” And it is as good of an endorsement he will get from Sara. 

“She still seems to think I do not love her.” Cregan whines. 

“Because you mention Arra all the time. I have heard it’s in bad taste, but what would I know?” Sara rolls her eyes. “I am just some bastard girl.” 

“Are you simply going to complain or will you help me?” Cregan looks at her and tries giving her his best pleading look. Then, he decides to stroke her pride. “You know I always seek your council, even above other lords.” 

“Even above Lord Cerwyn?” Her mouth purses in a dubious pout. Fuck. His sister or his best friend? In the end, the choice is easy. Sara is here now, after all. 

“Of course.”

Sara positively beams. 

“You should tell him so.” Her rivalry with him had never made any sense to him, they had known each other since childhood, too. The man didn’t even care about who her mother had been and never took insult with her… Well, insults. Plural. Always thrown at him by Sara. Now that he thought of it, his friend always sought excuses to see Sara. Odd. “Loudly. But I am feeling generous and not demand that you do so immediately. I shall gloat in my victory, and it will be even sweeter if he doesn’t know.” 

“Your advice?” Cregan asks, tiredly. The Gods knew that she would talk circles around him if he let her. She was honest, but she also had a gift for courtly speech that Cregan despised. 

“Women like gifts. Or I do. And I am a woman.” Sara shrugs. “She is a Princess, of course she does too. And don’t just gift her anything.” 

“I would never be…” That stupid, Cregan wishes to add, but Sara is still speaking. 

“Gift her something special. Something unique, tailored to her. And especially, something that you wouldn’t gift practical Arra.” 

Cregan stares at Sara. Sara stares back. Then, very pointedly, she picks up her book and continues to read. The message is clear. He will not get any further help. 

Still, her advice lingers. In the coming days, Cregan cannot shake the thought, regardless of what he is doing. As he inspects his men, as he reads during his spare time, even as he bathes. All Cregan thinks of is you, and a gift that would please you. 

He even dares ask Rickon. His suggestion of a direwolf isn’t exactly bad. It’s just difficult on its execution, and not something Cregan would choose when thinking of a gift for you. 

He discards many more ideas, from rolls of myrish lace to donations to your charities. You ran far too cold to wear the former, and the latter wouldn’t truly be a gift to you. He wastes nearly a week coming up with a suitable idea, and two more corresponding with the Prince, the Maester at Dragonstone, and securing the goods he needs. 

It’s all worth it, when he takes a look at the finished present and can know that you will love it. 

[daeniradraconis]

Banter Between the Lines - Hughes Brothers

Author's Note: Hey, so here’s another quick chat-style piece! I haven’t had much time to sit down and write properly lately, so short and sweet it is for now. 😊 Feel free to send me some requests if you’d like! (You can check out the "rules" here: link). I can’t promise when I’ll get to them, but I’ll definitely find time soon.

Summary: A little fluff with a touch of smut (nothing too crazy, just some extra flirting). Quinn’s girlfriend roasts the boys while calling them out in their group chat.

Warnings: Nothing major, just some mention of 🍆.

It was one of those quiet Sunday nights where everything felt slow. You'd spent the evening catching up on your favorite shows, but it was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was Quinn. The constant distance between you two had become harder to ignore with each passing day, and as much as you loved how happy he was with his team, you missed him. And, truthfully, you missed the whole family.

You’d gotten close to Jack and Luke over the years, and now, with Quinn playing for the Vancouver Canucks and Jack and Luke together on the New Jersey Devils, the family dynamic felt a little more spread out than you liked. Sure, they’d all make time for you when they could, but it wasn’t the same as those days when you’d all hang out together.

Tonight, instead of a call or a quick text, you decided to turn to something a little more familiar. You opened up youtube and searched for their latest highlights.

All three of them were struggling on the ice, and it showed. It hurt to see them like this, especially when you couldn’t do much to help. So you did what you always did in times like these—opened the group chat and prepared to roast them into oblivion. If nothing else, it might make them laugh.

you: just finished your highlights. Quinn, congrats on being the saddest guy on the ice again 🥇. Jack, loved the mini tantrum energy 👏. Luke, did you forget which team you play for? because those turnovers were next-level.

Jack: wow, you really woke up and chose violence.

you: always. someone has to keep you humble.

Luke: humble? this feels more like a personal attack.

Quinn: what would you call it, then?

Luke: bullying.

you: oh, Lukey, don’t take it so hard. I tease because I care 💕

Jack: you literally plotted my ex’s demise last month. is that “caring” too?

you: first of all, it wasn’t a plot. it was more of a… fantasy.

Quinn: putting her in the ground “while she’s still breathing” doesn’t sound like a fantasy…

you: listen, if she hadn’t been such a manipulative little snake, I wouldn’t have had to consider it 🐍

Luke: terrifying. but honestly? fair.

Jack: I could’ve handled her myself, you know.

you: oh, really? because from where I was sitting, she had you wrapped around her finger like a puppet.

Quinn: she’s not wrong!

Jack: whose side are you on?

Quinn: hers. always.

you: damn right honey. and don’t worry, I’m not plotting her demise anymore… unless she tries to come back. then all bets are off.

Jack: remind me to never date again. you’re scarier than Quinn’s slap shot.

You grinned as the banter flew back and forth, but your focus shifted to Luke. His disastrous date still didn’t sit right with you.

you: okay, but seriously, Lukey. I've heard some gossip. how does a girl ditch you mid-dinner? you’re literally the sweetest human alive.

Luke: THANK YOU! finally, someone gets it.

Jack: don’t encourage him. he needs to toughen up.

you: excuse me? let him be sweet! not every guy needs to have your level of 'I’m too cool for feelings,' Jack.

Quinn: valid point.

Luke: thank you, Quinn.

you: honestly, Luke, I’ll never understand how she left. did you say something weird?

Luke: no!!! I was perfectly normal.

Quinn: “normal” is a stretch…

Jack: is this really the same guy who told a girl on a first date he’d make six different accounts just to sort himself into Hufflepuff six different times because he didn’t 'trust the algorithm'?

Luke: OKAY, THAT’S DIFFERENT. I was being honest!

you: oh, Lukey. you’re lucky you’re adorable because that is painful 😂

Luke: this is why I didn’t want to tell you guys.

Quinn: bro, it’s fine. just embrace the awkward puppy vibe. it’s clearly your brand.

Luke: I hate you.

Jack: ugh, why does he get the sympathy? roast him more guys!!! I can’t be the only one taking L’s here.

you: because Luke doesn’t put ketchup on his eggs like a serial killer, Jack.

Luke: yeah, what is WRONG with you? ketchup on eggs? really?

Jack: you people are so dramatic. it’s normal.

Quinn: nothing about that is normal.

you: thank you, Quinn. once again, the only rational person in this chat.

Jack: stop flirting with my brother. it’s disgusting.

Luke: seriously. I can feel the weird vibes through my phone.

You smirked, knowing exactly how to push their buttons.

you: you’re just mad because Quinn’s risotto is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

Quinn: best risotto AND lasagna. don’t forget!

you: how could I? it’s the only reason I keep you around. And of course your magic 🍆

Quinn: oh, not my sparkling personality? btw you're objectifying my body...

you: hmm… maybe that too. but i have my priorities straight!

Jack: 🤢 STOP. this is disgusting.

Luke: seriously. this is TMI guys!!

you: just jealous, you two can’t even scramble eggs properly.

Quinn: cooking skills = key to a woman’s heart.

Luke: ugh. golden child strikes again.

Jack: some of us don’t need to cook because we have charisma, thank you very much.

Quinn: does your charisma excuse ketchup on eggs? because it shouldn’t.

Luke: still the biggest red flag in this chat.

Jack: Y’ALL ARE SO DRAMATIC.

You smiled at their bickering, your heart full, untouched by their chaos.

you: okay, but for real… I miss you guys 💔.

Luke: aww, finally some love.

Jack: are you feeling okay?!

you: don’t get used to it. but yeah, I miss you. Quinn, risotto night when you’re home! Jack and Luke, you can come eat it too.

Quinn: deal. but I’m ignoring them for the first hour I’m back. i need my time with you!

Luke: RUDE!

Jack: gross. is this the flirting portion of the chat? can we not?

you: love you too, boys. even if you’re disasters.

Jack: love you too. now stop flirting with Quinn before I puke.

Luke: seriously. save it for your own chat.

Quinn: jealousy doesn’t look good on you two.

Luke: jealous of what? your cooking? maybe. your 🍆? absolutely not.

you: you should be Lukey! your brother got some great 🍆

Jack: I’m OUT.

Luke: same.

Quinn: good job hon. guess it’s just us now. you: just how I like it 😘

[moonstruckme]

hiiii! I’m usually a very quiet reader, but I just had to request something for prince!sirius too! 

I had in mind that she needs to learn how to ride a horse (besides all of the other things she needs to learn) and is scared of horses. So, when she's not in her official practice, maybe she and Sirius are riding out together and he tries to calm her anxiety?

It's totally fine if it doesn't ignite that writing spark

Thank you for requesting!

cw: some fear/trepedation of horses, talk of family expectations/fitting into high society

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.1k words

For all your loveliness, Sirius has watched you embarrass yourself in many ways since he’s met you. Some he can help with, like nudging you in the direction of the correct fork or telling you when a particular courtier is trying to make a fool of you, and some, like when you accidentally light your skirts on fire standing too close to the fireplace, he unfortunately cannot. 

This, Sirius thinks, is something he can help you with. 

He should probably be embarrassed to admit he’s been watching you, but really he isn’t. There isn’t all that much to do for a visiting prince in the hours between meetings and events, and Sirius has found that whether you’re with him or otherwise engaged, you tend to dominate his attention. Also, the lawn where you have your riding lessons is viewable from his window. 

You’re not a terribly cloddish thing by nature; a bit awkward at times, yes, but that seems permissible when you’re walking in new shoes and cumbersome dresses into unfamiliar situations. The way you hold yourself on your horse seems a stiffness more borne of mental unrest. 

You’ve been given the oldest, gentlest mare in the stables for your practice, and still you sit taut as a drawn bow on her back. 

It’s humiliating to watch, honestly, and as someone who cares for you Sirius can’t allow it to continue. He’s supposed to be your ally in all this. Fork usage, snooty courtiers, and horses, he can help you with. 

“Is Rayan not meeting us?” you ask, naming your riding instructor as you follow Sirius outside. The sun is bright, sitting central in a clear sky. Sirius feels his skin warm despite the cool spring breeze.

“No.” He tips his face up to the warmth as he walks. “He wasn’t invited.” 

A little laugh stumbles out of you. And Sirius loves to make you laugh, but he thinks he detects some trace of nerves in this one. “What, so we’re on our own?”

“Mhm. Problem?” 

“No, just…” You watch him approach the stables skeptically. “Who’s going to let us in?” 

Sirius meets your stare as he gives the front door a push, letting it swing open. Your answering smile is worth all the gold in his family’s coffers. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

“No, you shouldn’t.” Sirius winks at you. He learned long ago that a flirtatious smile and a genuine eagerness for conversation could get him anywhere; after a friendly chat this morning, the stableboy was more than happy to prepare things for the two of you and leave you to your own devices. 

“You’ve got to start learning to throw your weight around,” he says, going to fetch your mare. “You’re a princess.” 

“I don’t identify with that,” you counter lightly. Staying, Sirius notes, well away as he leads the horse outside. “And I don’t think I’d like to throw my weight around.” 

You don’t say it with a hint of judgement. You really are too sweet for your own good, sometimes. You take the reins when Sirius passes them to you, but even after he’s collected his own horse and mounted, you’ve made no move to get on. 

Sirius wants to laugh as you eye your horse warily. She really is a lovely thing, dappled gray with a dark mane and emanating calm even as you fret and fidget at her side. 

“She’s not going to bite,” he says, meeting your worried gaze with a smile. “Do you want a hand up?” 

You look like you’d rather scurry back inside, but you take Sirius’ hand, allowing him to encourage you into the saddle. It’s a clumsy process; you suck in a breath when your mare stirs at your shifting weight. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Sirius grasps your arm before remembering it’s not you he’s supposed to be soothing. He sets his hand to the horse’s flank. “You’re both okay. She’s just an old girl.”

“I know,” you say, voice heavy with dread. “I feel like I’m going to break her poor old back.” 

He grins at you. “Is that what you’re so afraid of? That you’re going to hurt her?” 

You go a tad sheepish. Not quite looking at him, one shoulder lifting. “I’m afraid we’re going to hurt each other,” you admit. 

Sirius laughs. “Gorgeous, this old girl has pranced around with men twice your weight on her back. She can handle you.”

Still, you look wary. Sirius takes your hand and brings it to the mare’s neck. He encourages you to stroke it slowly. 

“See?” he says. “She’s a sweetheart, too. You’re suited to each other.” His own horse stirs beneath him, restless. “Mine, however, is ready to go. Come along.”

He starts out at a slow pace without waiting for you to follow, and is gratified when you do. Your posture straightens immediately, tense and unnatural. Sirius reaches over to poke your middle. 

The sound that escapes you is half cry, half laugh. You twist away from him, instinctively directing your mare to put distance between you. 

“What was that for?” 

“You need to loosen up.” Sirius jabs for you again, pleased when you pull the reins to evade him. “Look, you’re guiding her perfectly. You’ve got it, doll.” 

You look down at your mare like she’s done this all on her own. At another gentle tug from you, she turns until you’re ambling along parallel to Sirius again. 

You gnaw your lip as though mistrustful of this newfound competence. “I don’t see why I need to learn this. How often am I going to be expected to ride a horse?” 

“More often than you’d think.” He winks at the bemused look you send him. “Relax, you look good up there.”

You huff a laugh, looking away as you do whenever he gives you a compliment. One of these days, Sirius is going to get you to take one. “The list of skills I need to pick up just to exist here…” You blow out a breath. “Your resumes must be insane.” 

“Our what?” 

You gawp, and Sirius grins. 

“Joking. We have heard of those even within royal society.” 

Another huffed, begrudging laugh. But you’re loosening up, your posture easing and grip loosening on the reins. You look almost comfortable. 

“You can nearly put this one on your resume, though,” he praises you. “You likely won’t ever need to go faster than a walk like this. Just work on looking a bit more regal and you’ll have it.” 

You shoot Sirius a suspicious look as you straighten your shoulders. “Don’t poke me again.” 

He teases back, “Don’t be so awkward, and I won’t have to.”

[aventurineswife]

Hiya!!! I wanted to request how HSR people (Jing Yuan specifically, but you can do more if you want, I just feel silly saying a specific person ;~;) would be with a Cat hybrid s/o? For genre I'd say mostly fluff. I'm not sure how to give more description, cause I'd love to hear your thoughts! If you do this, thank you so much!!! If not/you don't feel comfortable with it, that's totally okay too!!! Either way, love your writing!!! Have a good day/night!!! And please make sure to rest, eat, and drink some water :D <3

The Sound of Purring Peace

Summary: Jing Yuan finds comfort in the quiet company of his cat hybrid significant other. In a rare moment of peace away from his duties, he teases and spoils you with affection, encouraging you to help him rest. As you curl up together, the stresses of leadership melt away, and the two of you share a tender, intimate moment.

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Soft Moments, Affectionate Jing Yuan, Rest, Tenderness, Romantic.

The bustling corridors of the Xianzhou Luofu quieted as you slipped into Jing Yuan’s chambers. Being a cat hybrid had its perks; stealth came naturally to you. Your ears flicked in response to the faint rustle of papers, followed by a soft exhale. Jing Yuan, the esteemed Arbiter-General of the Cloud Knights, was at his desk, eyes focused on a scroll. His long hair shimmered under the warm lamplight, tied loosely with the familiar red ribbon.

But your heart melted when you saw the faintest smile tug at his lips. He always knew when you were near.

"You're late," Jing Yuan said, not bothering to look up, his voice smooth and teasing.

You pouted, tail swishing behind you. “Says the man who naps half the day. How do you even notice the time?”

He chuckled softly, setting the scroll aside. “An Arbiter-General must remain observant at all times. Besides…” His gaze lifted, eyes locking with yours. “You’re quite hard to miss, little cat.”

Your cheeks warmed at the affectionate nickname. Bounding over to him, you perched on the armrest of his chair, curling your tail around yourself. He reached out, his hand gentle as it brushed against your ears. A purr involuntarily rumbled from your chest.

“Ah, there it is,” he murmured, leaning back as if satisfied with his discovery. “My greatest weapon—your purring.”

You swatted at his arm, but there was no real strength behind it. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he countered, cupping your chin, his thumb brushing against your cheek, “you keep coming back.”

Silence lingered for a moment, the soft hum of the room wrapping around you both. Jing Yuan’s thumb traced slow, soothing patterns along your jawline. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as the tension of the day melted away.

“You’re overworking yourself again,” you murmured. “When’s the last time you took a proper break?”

He smirked. “I believe I took a rather refreshing nap yesterday.”

“That doesn’t count!” Your tail flicked in mild annoyance, but he only chuckled.

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ve been remiss in caring for myself,” he conceded, though his tone held a mischievous edge. “Would you, my dear, take it upon yourself to enforce my rest?”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. “Are you asking me to become your personal nap enforcer?”

“Precisely.” Jing Yuan stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You squawked in protest, but he carried you to the plush couch near the window, settling down with you nestled against his chest. His capes draped over both of you like a blanket.

“You’re impossible,” you grumbled, though you couldn’t deny how comfortable you were in his embrace. Your tail curled around his arm, and he let out a soft sigh, resting his chin atop your head.

For a moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. The Dozing General, the Divine Foresight, the leader of the Cloud Knights—none of those titles mattered here. He was simply Jing Yuan, holding the person who made the endless march of time feel a little less lonely.

“Rest with me,” he whispered, voice low and warm. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here.”

You let out a soft purr in response, and his eyes softened further. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a shared tranquility. In this quiet moment, with no battles to fight or strategies to plan, it was just the two of you—content, safe, and at peace.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Hello! I'm so sorry because this is a bit random and you definitely don't have to answer. But I'm a writer too and is it just me or has Tumblr been seeing much less interactions with fanworks these days? People aren't reblogging the way they used to and it's bugging me. Someone reblogged one of my fics this morning with "I don't usually repost fics but this one stole my heart" and I'm pleased with the compliment obviously but it did rub me the wrong way... Tumblr has no algorithm that'll push fanworks to you, and if you like something you're a lil bit responsible for it being shared. And while I do thankfully receive compliments and encouragement on that blog, on another it's just... It feels a bit like they don't care for the author, they just want the fics.

I know this was a bit random, apologies again! I just didn't know who else to take this too. Hope you're having a wonderful week!

I mean, I do agree with you on the “people unfortunately no longer engage with or reblog stuff like they used to in the past” though, as a fellow writer, I don’t believe anybody is “responsible” for reblogging things they enjoy, be it fanfiction or anything. like… yes, reblog means a whole lot to us artists. Like as a function — for Tumblr — doesn’t actually help that much (Like still helps, we still appreciate Like, but it’s not as effective as Reblog), because unlike other social media platforms, Tumblr Like isn’t going to get the content spread to wider audiences. but still, I don’t want to guilt trip anybody into thinking that “reblogging stuff you enjoy is a Must on Tumblr” because then it kind of becomes a “responsibility”, and I don’t think “responsibility on anybody’s end (be it artists’ or audiences’)” is why we create art to begin with, be it fanfiction or fan art or any other form of art.

instead I’d like to encourage people to please reblog the stuff they like. we do appreciate you if you like our posts, but we will appreciate you even more if you reblog and help our content reach wider audience.

please please please please don’t be shy to reblog what you like. reblogging is also a great motivation for your favorite artists to create more art you can enjoy.

reblog is like giving your friend a cup of hot chocolate as a way of thanking them for giving you a gift (fanfic or fanart), in the sense that it’s not your ‘responsibility’ to give your friend a cup of hot chocolate because when your friend gifts you the gift (fanfic or fanart), they do it out of love, not because they demand something in return from you, but your friend will still greatly appreciate the cup of hot chocolate nonetheless, and there will more likely be more gifts (fanfic or fanart) from them this way.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

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@bitchykittenconnoisseur

[softcitrus2345]

Thinkin' Jayvik thoughts (to nobody's surprise)

I wanted to explore how their bodies would change with the added weight, how the fat would settle on them differently

Jayce has always been a big guy, his muscular, square-ish build giving him plenty of mass to start off with. I see him being more of a top heavy/barrel chested kinda guy once he gets bigger, carrying it all pretty evenly, but he still maintains that square shape, despite being much rounder and softer around the middle. He's still very strong, probably even more so now that he has all that bulk to give him some more leverage- man eats like he'll never see food again, especially after a long session in the forge-

Viktor however, starts off very thin, so it's more of a mystery to them both how he would start to accumulate the pounds over time. Once he starts gaining, it wouldn't be as noticeable at first, since it would start as his body just filling out to a healthy weight, opposed to his more gaunt, sickly form from act 2 season 1 and onward-

Eventually though, it shifts, from having just enough to finally provide some cushion and insulation so his bones don't protrude as much, to slightly plump. He looks healthier than ever, and finally has developed more of an appetite. He grows into a pear shape, most of the fat settling in his hips, thighs and lower belly. Jayce ends up making his braces a little more easily adjustable for both his leg and back, since he's been outgrowing them pretty fast as of late >;]

Anyway, here's some domestic Jayvik doodles I cleaned up last night-

I decided to do their season 1 looks as well as a little post-canon concept just for funsies~ ;p

I didn't add Viktor's braces in the first one since I wanted to show off the fun chonk, but I did add a bit of bruising where they would normally sit on his body

In the second one, his braces are now a part of his body, shown in his scars, similar to his hexcorized form from s2 ;]

They're so cute in both RAAAAGH..

Oh yea, also here's a little infodump about my

Jayvik Feedism Headcanons

Just based off of their characters, Viktor would be more of a passive gainer, with Jayce encouraging him to take care of himself more and actually eat regular meals, he'd sometimes forget how much smaller Viktor's appetite is compared to his own (big 6'4 beefy guy who works in a forge half the time) and Viktor would probably end up eating more than he should thanks to Jayce's coaxing and big wet puppy dog eyes when he asks him to finish off what he made for him

They're both scientists and work long hours in a lab together, so Jayce would probably bring more food to the lab to make sure Viktor doesn't skip meals (cause in canon he does severely neglect a lot of his own needs because he's so focused on just his own research, he forgets he's a human who needs to take care of his vessel-)

He would start to gain noticeably, and he ends up looking much healthier and more alive, he has more energy and stops looking so gaunt and underfed. He just looks thin, but not dangerously so

That doesn't stop his partner from continuing with the doting and favors, always insisting he have his fill, though lightheartedly

Vik starts getting noticeably fat and Jayce notices. And it drives. Him. Mad.

He tries to ignore it and act normal but it's definitely having an effect on him when he's messing up equations and missing chunks of Viktor's rambles about their projects because he's just. Staring.

I mean can you blame him, man's got the tummy tucked into the pants and everything, it's just begging to be freed atp-

Eventually Viktor makes him spit out what's got him so flustered and they both learn of their mutual attraction to one another

Bing bang boom they keep going, with Viktor now being very open and almost teasing Jayce with his growth, and pushing Jayce to eat more too and to gain with him.

Jayce, always eager to please, goes full in and just constantly stuffs himself in front of Vik, melting from all the praise and loving touches he gets. Sometimes he does it even when Viktor isn't there, just because he misses the feeling or when he's stressed about a project. Viktor finds it endearing

Jayce would do anything for him, and proves it time and time again when Viktor pushes him past his limits consistently, reduced to a panting, whining, burpy mess >:3c

He gets big. Like big..

And they both love it-

Anyway fat and happy gays I'll shut up now AAAGH.

[77zrose]

ZB1 REACTION TO THEIR S/O BEING A YAPPER

genre : ot9, fluff “ 🛋️ .*

( for my yappers out there. im taking req so if u want go ahead and tap the “zzz” on my profile and make a request! )

김지웅 kim jiwoong

Jiwoong would find your endless chatter adorable. He’s the type to listen attentively, occasionally nodding or smiling, letting you know he’s engaged even if he doesn’t say much. When you start rambling about something random, he’d just lean back and enjoy the way your eyes light up.

Jiwoong :

“You’ve been talking about this for 30 minutes now, and I still don’t know how we got here. Keep going, though—I like hearing you.”

When you realize you’ve been talking too much and apologize, he’d gently shake his head.

Jiwoong :

“Don’t apologize. I love how excited you get when you talk.”

성한빈 sung hanbin

Hanbin would adore your chatter and be the most patient listener. He’d give you his full attention, nodding and reacting to your stories like you’re the most interesting person in the world. Even if you talk his ear off, he wouldn’t mind.

Hanbin :

“You’re so cute when you get excited about things. What else happened? Tell me more.”

If you apologize for talking too much, he’d immediately reassure you.

Hanbin :

“Don’t ever stop. I love hearing what’s on your mind. It makes me feel closer to you.”

장하오 zhanghao

Zhanghao would listen with genuine interest, chiming in at the right moments to keep the conversation flowing. He’d find your energy refreshing and wouldn’t mind if you jumped from one topic to another.

“Wait, wait. How did we go from talking about your lunch to this conspiracy theory about pigeons?”

Even if he gets lost in the conversation, he’d admire your enthusiasm.

Zhanghao :

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who can talk this much, but somehow you make it entertaining.”

석매튜 seok matthew

Matthew would be amused and entertained by your endless talking. He’d laugh at your tangents and might even try to match your energy by chiming in with jokes or comments. He’d make it clear he enjoys your company, even if you’re rambling about something totally random.

Matthew :

“Wait, so you’re saying you almost burned the kitchen down because you were distracted by…a cat meme?”

If you ever felt embarrassed about talking too much, he’d brush it off.

Matthew :

“Are you kidding? I love how much you talk. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

김태래 kim taerae

Taerae would quietly listen to you with a warm smile on his face. He wouldn’t interrupt you but would occasionally nod or respond softly to show he’s paying attention. When you ramble about something silly, he’d laugh gently and encourage you to keep going.

Taerae :

“You have such a way of making even the smallest things sound so interesting. Don’t stop.”

If you ever worried about annoying him, he’d shake his head.

Taerae :

“Annoyed? Never. I could listen to you all day. Your voice makes me happy.”

리키 ricky

Ricky would find your constant talking both hilarious and endearing. He’d tease you playfully but would secretly love how expressive you are. When you go off on a tangent, he’d lean back with a smirk, waiting for a chance to tease you.

Ricky :

“You’ve been talking for ten minutes straight—do you ever run out of breath?”

But when he sees you pouting, he’d soften immediately.

Ricky :

“I’m just kidding. I like it when you talk. It’s fun watching you get so animated.”

김규빈 kim gyuvin

Gyuvin would be overwhelmed at first, unsure how to handle your constant talking. But as he gets used to it, he’d start finding it comforting. He might zone out occasionally, but he’d always snap back when he hears something interesting.

Gyuvin :

“Wait, what? Back up a second—did you just say your dog can ‘talk’ too?”

He’d grow to love your chatter, even if he can’t keep up all the time.

Gyuvin :

“Honestly, you could talk all day, and I’d still enjoy having you around.”

박건욱 park gunwook

Gunwook would find your endless talking amusing and might even try to match your energy. He’d throw in random comments to keep the conversation lively and would probably encourage you to keep going, even if it’s about something completely random.

Gunwook :

“So you’re telling me you spent three hours watching videos about…otters? And now you want to adopt one?”

When you apologize for rambling, he’d shrug and smile.

Gunwook :

“Hey, I like hearing you talk. It’s never boring with you.”

한유진 han yujin

Yujin would be a little shy at first, unsure how to respond to your endless talking. But as he grows more comfortable, he’d start listening intently and even laughing at your tangents. He’d think your chatter is cute, even if it leaves him speechless sometimes.

Yujin :

“Wow, you’re really passionate about this. I don’t think I’ve ever thought that much about…toaster ovens.”

If you ever felt self-conscious, he’d reassure you quietly.

Yujin :

“It’s okay. I like it. You’re fun to be around, and I learn so much just from listening to you.”

[dadrielle]

There won't be another Aeor now, because Aeor was a very specific kind of tragedy, wherein the gods prioritized their own survival over the survival of huge swathes of mortals. They had choice after choice after choice where they could have diverted to a more merciful path. Even in the very last moments, they could have just destroyed the Factorum Malleus and spared the rest of the city, and found another way to deal with the knowledge that had been disseminated. But they chose their own immediate security over the lives of every regular person in Aeor, every refugee and civilian and child. The Primes may love mortals, may work to protect them, but when it comes down to it, they will choose themselves (and their Betrayer kin!) every time. It is love with a very big caveat.

Two thirds of the world's population died in the Calamity because the Betrayers were initially banished, not destroyed. The gods say they cannot let any of the Betrayers die because they might need them if a bigger threat arises, but what good does that potential possible protection do Exandria if their warring wipes the world out now? Why should anyone, god or mortal, expect that the Betrayers would help fend off such a threat anyway, when they very clearly want the Primes and all mortals dead? There was so much emphasis in Downfall on how, despite it all, the Primes and Betrayers are family and the Primes cannot let that go. It's hard to take Ayden at face value when he says that they need the Betrayers, in the light of that. SILAHA says "That's all our problem. It's all about ourselves. At least I have the, well, confidence to actually accept it." And that's the truth of their motivation that their actions indicate in Downfall.

The Arch Heart and the Matron explicitly told the Hells that the world was on the cusp of another Calamity. Except for those two, when confronted with the possibility of Predathos, the gods wanted to chose, once again, to sacrifice the lives of countless mortals in order to protect themselves. The Divine Gate is meant to stop another Calamity, but now we know that they are willing to tear it down to save themselves. So Calamity is the threat that hangs over the world much more immediately than potential cosmic horrors.

I don't think anyone is out here saying that this plan with the gods becoming mortal means that there will never be any danger to Exandria again. There ARE terrible threats that exist, like the Chained Oblivion and there are almost certainly more that exist out is the cosmos that are currently unknown. Predathos might eat those or it might not, we don't actually know. There absolutely will be more evil mortals, just as there will be mortal heroes to stop them, as they always have. This is not the creation of utopia. It's the aversion of another apocalypse.

But something that struck me, at least, about Aeor, something that I think often get lost underneath all the other debate, under the focus on hubris, is the stark fact that mortal understanding grew to the point where they could create a weapon that could kill a god. That's incredible. If the gods saw mortal understanding reach so far and instead of saying "you are children and cannot comprehend and so we will strike your knowledge from the world because it is too dangerous for you," said "you are our children and you are growing up, perhaps we should help you understand" what might mortal innovation have accomplished? What solutions would mortal creativity come up with that might have surprised their creators? If the gods chose to treat mortal attempts to understand with encouragement instead of condescension, what might the Cassida Previns of the world built?

You say that level of power has to exist to fight off the next eldritch horror that arrives. Why does that power have to be concentrated in a small handful of gods above any sort of accountability? Why can't it be power distributed amongst a larger number of mortals, defending themselves? Why can't it be mortals, no longer children to be shielded but instead come into their ascendancy to fully inherit the world and its responsibilities? Why can't mortals be equal to the gods, not in the sense sought by those power-hungry mages, but as a collective, with the gods reborn among them and treating them, as it were, as adults, who might come to understand?

In the final narration for Downfall, Brennan says:

"In short, brief life can even the infinite change, realize, recognize, commit to something new, singular. To move forward on the paths of destiny and fate, changed."

And I think this choice being given to the gods to become mortal again, beyond just giving them the ability to survive at the cost of their power, is also offering them the chance to learn and grow the way mortals do again. Being mortal in their quest to destroy Aeor, ending even as it did in something horrific, did actually change them enough that they created the Divine Gate. That was a sacrifice and it was better than what was before it. But it was not enough and now that the flaws in that approach have become clear, it's time to look for another path. Mortality offers that. And I think seeing how mortality could change them further will be a hell of a story, and I'm looking forward to it.

Anyway, I don't particularly think this is going to convince you or anything, you seem pretty mad, but it's fun to talk about this stuff, and you gave me an excuse, so thanks.

[letsquestjess]

Paint My Love (Echo x F!Reader)

Summary: Echo loves to see you paint, but doesn't bank on the swell of emotions when you lovingly paint your love onto him.

Word count: 2.1K

Warning: 18+ / MDNI! Smut. Unprotected PiV.

-- -- -- -- --

With a gliding swipe of the paintbrush, blush tones outstripped and tempered the fiery red beneath. Fleecy clouds met with silky sky, the canvas filling with the delightful distant landscape as your rendition unfolded in mellow curves and serene shades. 

Your involvement in the clone network rarely permitted you time to indulge in a hobby. Planet hopping, eluding blaster bolts, and cracking codes occupied every waking moment, hauling captive and injured clones from the depths of Imperial prisons and extracting vital information from enemy systems. The task you undertook voluntarily, a decision you neither regretted nor deplored, but in the process, you abandoned much of your life. 

In moments such as these, you gladly seized whatever buffers and downtime you were offered without complaint about the shortness of the respite or the chance of being called to another critical situation. Everything Rex and his network did ensured a better galaxy, a denial of victory and power to the Empire, and the opportunity to see the sun rise over the freedom of every despairing world. 

You hoped the sunrise of that prospective dawn promised to prove as beautiful and inspiring as the one you painted, tracking the migration of sky vapours with your brush and the silvery streak contrasting the subdued corals and cardinals. A lilac hue crowned the horizon, and you contemplated which tints to mix to get the matching shade. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you painting,” Echo commented as he descended the ramp, distracted by the array of pleasing colours and shapes crafted by your skillful hand. 

“It’s been a while since I had the chance,” you replied. “Does Rex know to expect some more brothers?”

“He does. Also told him we’re going to stay for a couple of days to check the transmissions. I’ve set up a sweep of Imperial systems, but it could take a while, so we have some time.” 

Scomp link coasting down your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, he considered your artwork with a contented grin. “You always manage to see the good in everything.” 

“Bad things do not deserve a thought wasted on them,” you replied with a decided shrug. “I reserve that space for the things that make me happy.” 

“And that stubborn streak.” 

In answer to his jest, you dabbed his nose with the tip of your paintbrush and swallowed a chuckle at the responding arched eyebrow, dropping the brush into the jar of pigmented water. 

“I’m not used to having free time,” you said, mopping up the sapphire blob with the frayed towel over your shoulder. “What will we do?” 

“Wait for the scans and ensure we’re ready to move as soon as we get the results, but the rest, I suppose we… relax.” His face scrunched as though he sniffed something foul. That sounded wrong. In their line of work, relaxation never presented itself. Not even in times of quiet. 

The rumination creased his features, and you eased your fingertips up to his cheekbones to encourage him to loosen up. “At any rate, I’m going to need more canvases. I didn’t realise I had my supplies until I checked the cupboard last night. Must have left them there when I painted those posters for Rex.” 

Echo nosed into your touch. Faith in the good and your confidence in a better tomorrow shone in those images, declaring to the galaxy that they were defended and inspiring them to rise. “You could always use me,” he said, more tease in his tone and temptation in the amber flecks in his eyes than he intended. “As a canvas, I mean. If you needed. I… um… wouldn’t be opposed to you… trying that out…”

Covering his face in embarrassment with a gloved hand and his posture slumping, he retreated. Since you formed your attachment almost a year ago, his attempts at flirting grew worse in his mind, fumbled words attempting to sound exciting and falling flat. Yet each time, you found him more endearing and increasingly sweet.  

“The paints I use are safe for skin if you wanted to be my canvas,” you told him, removing the rectangular painting from the easel and setting it beside the ship steps to dry. 

He wound up to graciously refuse, to insist he did not wish to disturb your quiet peace or steal away your artistic resources, but everything you touched with your talents, you planted a shred of your soul into, and he pondered how he might look with your creations decorating him. “Actually, I’d like that.”

“In that case,” you said, your bright smile making every facet glow, “I’ll go set up the cockpit and I can paint you while we wait for those scans.” 

Spare rolls of fabric draped the co-pilot seat, and a tiered palette kept the array of matte and metallic colours neat while you organised your utensils. Pillars of sunlight provided a muted bloom, and settling Echo into the covered seat, you counted the various brushes and tested the bristles were smooth enough not to irritate his skin. 

“You’ll have to remove your shirt if you want me to paint on you,” you told him, offering an opening for him to retract his offer if he decided not to continue. He pulled an arm and his scomp link through the sleeves of his blacks and set the article of clothing over the navigation console chair. 

“Am I sat right?” he asked, wriggling and twisting in the seat. “I can move if you need me to, or-”

You dumped your jacket onto the inactive panel behind you and covered his lap with an old tatty blanket. “Just relax.”

Soaking the first brush into a silky maroon tint, you knelt and softly began your patterns. You let your heart guide your hand, winding around the embedded ports in his stomach and chuckling at the slight laugh he returned when the strands tickled his sternum. 

The colour choices flowed with your instincts, motifs and designs floating in your mind as you washed the brushes in between each pigment. You tuned into the steady swell and drop of Echo’s chest, meeting every breath tenderly pushing at the paintbrush. 

Enraptured in your concentration and the blossoms of your creativity, Echo remained unmoving, peeping as you expressed your love on his torso. You never ceased to amaze him in your artistry and your innovation, head tilted at a tender angle and teeth snagging your bottom lip as you chewed in studious contemplation. Your innate ingenuity permeated other parts of your life and on more than one occasion, hauled you from the fire and came to your aid, preventing you from ending up in an Imperial prison or worse. 

Stars, he wished he could express how you made him feel, how your radiance warmed him and your surety emboldened him to believe the galaxy would see better days. He hoped you realised how wonderful you were, that you never once needed to doubt yourself, because if he had to place bets on anyone, it would always be you. 

Inch by inch, brilliant designs of strength and light coated his skin, the rising and easing of his chest pulling the strings of his life into glorious being. For the first time in far too long, he felt himself, vibrant like he once was before the explosion that ripped him apart and remade him a machine. Your art brought together both parts of him into acceptance and new perspectives. 

“How incredible you are,” he breathed in a besotted exhale, swallowing the bloated tears of elation. 

His palm nestled your cheek and his thumb flicked over your lips. You set the brush aside and went to cup his face, stopping short at the stain on your palms. 

“Considering how much paint I have on my chest, do you think I’d mind a little more?” Echo coaxed you onto his lap, mindful of the drying designs as he let you wiggle yourself comfortable. “Thank you.” 

“What for?” you asked, planting a kiss to the tip of his nose and trailing your lips towards his neck. 

“Reminding me who I am.” 

Your kisses ceased, and you fixed on the reminiscent glimmer in his gaze. “You don’t need me to remind you who you are.” 

“Sometimes I forget. It’s like I was someone completely different before… before everything that happened, but that same trooper is still in there.” His scomp link rested on the small of your back and his thumb massaged circles on your hip. 

“Still the same foolhardy ARC trooper to me,” you assured him, fingers delighting in the contours of his face before idling on his jaw. “Only now with added stubble.” You scratched playfully at the scruff on his chin. “What was it Rex told me once? You used to shave so meticulously you could use your cheeks as mirrors?” 

A spirited chuckle rumbled in the depths of Echo’s chest and your designs fluttered with the movement. “That is a wild exaggeration.”

“Wild exaggeration, huh?” 

Echo clocked the mischief in your tone and the arched eyebrow as you pursued the strain in his pants. At the wriggle in your feigned repositioning and the grind of your hips, he momentarily closed his eyes and grunted under his breath. Maker have mercy for the way you liked to tease him. 

“I know you’re doing that on purpose,” Echo pointed out.

“Am not.”

“I believe that is what we would definitely call a wild exaggeration.” 

You gasped dramatically and splayed your fingers on his chest. As he laughed at your antics, he wrenched your hips down onto him again. “Anyone would think you liked that,” you cooed, your own arousal dripping and desperate for attention. 

“Perhaps I do,” he responded, dipping his thumb into the waistband of your pants. His touches graced your core, tiny flicks and presses of his fingertips edging you towards delight. 

Hungry for him the more your flirts danced, you hopped off him to remove your clothing and straddled him before the fabric even hit the cockpit floor. Soft kisses became starved as you rocked on him, the intensity between your legs unbearable. 

“It’s been too long since we’ve had some time to ourselves,” Echo panted. 

“Need you,” you keened, intent on not permitting your nails to sink into his shoulder in your haste to feel more of him. 

“No patience?” 

You shook your head and stopped grinding your hips long enough for him to reach into his underwear and withdraw his cock, give it a few pumps, and line himself with your entrance.

“Take your time, love,” Echo soothed, sensing the impatience in the little creases between your brows as you gradually sank onto him. “We don’t need to rush.” 

While you knew you had no reason to hurry, the ache within you burned boundless and fluorescent. You lowered yourself the last centimetre, and a satisfied breath escaped your chest at the fill. 

In an unhurried, endless rhythm, your thighs tensed in the rolling flow and you brought yourself down again on his length, assisted by his encouraging lift as he met you halfway. As your bodies moved as one, your breaths intermingled, kisses exchanged instead of words between the rise and drop of your love. 

“Echo,” you whined, the knot inside you unravelling and pulling deliciously as he buried himself in your heat and rolled your nipple between a finger and thumb, the thought of approaching your activity without haste abandoned. You both needed each other. Patience be damned to the depths. 

Your whimpers met with a low grunt. Neither of you were going to last much longer, you craved that closeness, that blessed bond. Building the friction between your sweat-coated skin, you crested the gratifying wave together, nails biting into flesh and your climaxes hitting their groan-filled peaks. 

Echo clutched you as the final throes circuited and fizzled, nuzzling at your neck. He peered down between your bodies where paint smeared his torso and residue smudges dusted yours. 

“Maybe we should wash this off,” you suggested in a calming breath as his release began to leak out between your legs. “Share a shower and save some water. Who knows how long we will be waiting for the scans to complete?” 

“Hopefully long enough for us to do this again,” Echo chuckled, boosting you into his arms, still comfortably inside you. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll make some breakfast.” 

“You spoil me,” you murmured, snuggling into the rocking motion as he moved you to the rear of the ship. 

“Oh, that’s just for starters.” He balanced you in one arm and nudged the button for the fresher with his scomp link, the door whooshing open. “I’m going to spoil you as much as I can and then some.” 

If you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, feel free to send me a message (18+ only).

@cw80831 @stardusthuntress @spicy-clones

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 - 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐄𝐧𝐝

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Spoilers ahead.

Nobunaga: "Mai, Tell me everything."

Mai: "That's..."

The words caught in my throat before I could say them.

(No, I can't. I just can't say it.)

(If Mitsuhide were to disappear from history, I would be saved, but…)

(If I explain everything, it will only bring suffering to everyone in the Oda army.)

(To save him would mean abandoning me.)

I couldn't put such a cruel choice on the people who feel like family to me.

Nobunaga: "Mai, answer me."

Hideyoshi: "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Mai: "............"

I'd been praying that my voice would reach them every time I opened my mouth, but that wasn't the case now.

(Since I came to live here, I've grown to love everyone in the Oda army.)

(I treasure them deeply, without question, and I know they treasure me too.)

(Which is exactly why I can't bring myself to ask for help, no matter what.)

(I'm the only one who needs to suffer.)

I finally understood the loneliness Mitsuhide must have felt.

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai? You're still here, right? You can still hear us?"

(My voice still reaches them for now, but…)

I clutched the bell in my palm to keep it from making any sound and quietly stood up.

Masamune: "It's fine if you can't reply right away. You can write it down and send it to us later."

Ieyasu: "You should do that. It's more of a hassle if you try to carry it all by yourself."

Mitsunari: "Lady Mai, we're here for you. And of course, Lord Mitsuhide, too."

Hideyoshi: "That's right, Mai. So don't worry about it."

Keiji: "You're cherished, Mai."

(Yeah, I really am.)

I gazed at each of their faces, engraving them into my memory.

I knew that after this, I'd never be able to meet their eyes again.

(Thank you.)

(And...)

(I'm sorry.)

Swallowing the words I couldn't say, I left the hall.

When I got back to my room, I tried a few times before I finally picked up the brush.

(Sending a letter would interfere with people from this time, so this is probably my last chance.)

(While I can still connect with them, I need to make sure they know this.)

Even though I was freaking out, I took my time with each word, trying to keep my handwriting neat as possible.

(If I disappear, Mitsuhide will have no reason to fight against everyone.)

One of the reasons he raised his army was to have himself defeated to save me.

(I need to tell them that I'm gone and that they should stop him.)

I would beg them to welcome him back into the Oda army and not punish him.

And then I wrote my apology and gratitude to everyone in the Oda army.

Hideyoshi, thank you for always being so kind and considerate. I can't even begin to explain how much your kindness has saved me.

Masamune, the way you carry yourself has always inspired me. I'll always pray that your path will be a glorious one.

Ieyasu, thank you for always encouraging me with your stern words. I'll really miss hearing your blunt but caring voice.

Mitsunari, your smile is really like that of an angel. Please continue to light up everyone in Azuchi with that smile.

Ranmaru, being with you was so much fun. You're an important part of my life, and that won't change even if we're apart. We'll always be friends.

Keiji, although we've only known each other for a short time, your cheerfulness gave me so much strength. If I could have stayed in Azuchi longer, I'm sure we would have gotten even closer.

Lord Nobunaga, thank you for welcoming me into the Oda army. Thank you for everything. Please, please, take care of yourself.

Mai: "Phew."

I finished writing and immediately started on the last letter.

(What should I do? I don't have much time.)

(I have so much I want to say, but I can't fit it all in.)

As I thought of that person, tears began to fall, soaking the paper, and my hand, holding the brush, remained still.

The emotions were so overwhelming that I felt like my chest would burst.

(I won't blame you for your choice. Just let me make the same one.)

(I'll take all the divine punishment upon myself.)

I will not drag you into hell with me.

(I'll go alone, so you must survive in this world.)

(That's my final and only remaining hope.)

I managed to move my hand just enough to write a brief letter.

Eventually, night arrived.

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai, are you here!? You haven't responded since earlier. Where are you?"

Ranmaru: "What the hell is this letter!?"

Ranmaru: "..........."

Reading the letter left in the now empty room, Ranmaru froze for a moment before bolting out of the castle.

And just like that, Mai vanished from Azuchi Castle without a trace.

The following morning, the Oda army clashed head-on with the rebel forces.

Mitsuhide: "Do not falter. Forge your path forward! We will take Nobunaga's head!"

Rebel soldiers: "Yeah!"

Samurai, ronin, bandits, townsfolk, and villagers—all soldiers of different backgrounds, with their flags raised, charged forward under Mitsuhide's command.

Meanwhile, Nobunaga, glaring at the approaching large battalion, surveyed the battlefield from the rear of his army and coldly issued his command.

Nobunaga: "Scatter them."

Masamune: "Understood."

Masamune drew his sword and spurred his horse into the fray.

Keiji and Ieyasu quickly followed behind him.

Masamune: "Too soft! Bring them all at once!"

Keiji: "If you're gonna run, now's your chance!"

Ieyasu: "Move! Get out of my way."

The thick wall of enemy soldiers was quickly shattered.

Rebel General 1: "L-Lord Mitsuhide, what should we do?!"

Rebel General 2: "At this rate, it's only a matter of time before the enemy reaches our rear command!"

Rebel General 3: "What's with their strength?! These guys are monsters!"

Mitsuhide: "I don't remember giving you permission to retreat."

Rebel Generals: "!"

Mitsuhide: "Advance. Only forward."

As the sun began to set, the peaceful fields transformed into a hellish scene.

Swords and the bodies of the fallen lay scattered across the field.

Rebel General 1: "Move! We can't hold on any longer! I'm escaping!"

Rebel General 2: "Wait, you're not getting away ahead of me! I'm going too!"

The rebel forces, now scattered, began to flee in confusion.

However, the Oda army's rear guard wasn't about to let them escape.

Mitsunari: "I wouldn't advise turning your back. Don't waste your life."

Hideyoshi: "Don't think any of you are getting away. If you want to keep your head, drop your swords now."

Rebel soldiers: "H-Huh?!"

One by one, the enemy soldiers were overwhelmed by Hideyoshi and Mitsunari's forces.

The main force of the rebel army, which had been holding its ground in the center of the battlefield, was steadily worn down by Masamune, Keiji, and Ieyasu.

Eventually, the unit directly under the command of the generals was left exposed before the Oda army.

Rebel General 3: "I-It's over. I'm retreating!"

Rebel General 2: "You think you can escape alone?!"

Rebel General 1: "P-Please forgive me! I was just manipulated by Mitsuhide Akechi!"

Ieyasu: "I'll listen to your excuses in prison."

Masamune: "You guys are not even worth cutting down."

Keiji: "What a pathetic bunch. How the hell did they even become generals?"

The defeated soldiers bowed in surrender, and after the rebel generals were captured, the battlefield, heavy with the scent of blood, fell into an eerie silence.

Then, the two commanders faced each other.

Mitsuhide & Nobunaga: "..........."

Mitsuhide didn't lower his head. Instead, he raised it and smiled.

Nobunaga: "This reunion came sooner than I expected, Mitsuhide. Though, it seems you didn't anticipate this outcome."

Mitsuhide: "What are you saying? I misjudged the strength of the Oda army. I underestimated your true power."

Nobunaga: "Oh? So even a man like you can get his calculations wrong?"

Mitsuhide: "Yes, I've been overestimating myself for quite some time."

Mitsuhide: "It's a real shame, but it seems my fate has finally come to an end."

Nobunaga: "I see."

Mitsuhide lightly lifted his chin, exposing his throat to the setting sun.

Mitsuhide: "I've long accepted my fate."

Nobunaga: "Is that so?"

With a sharp sound, Nobunaga unsheathed his sword.

The gleaming white blade glinted as its tip pointed directly at Mitsuhide's throat.

Then—

Nobunaga: "Ranmaru, bring it here."

Ranmaru: "Yes."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Without showing even a hint of confusion, Mitsuhide silently observed the events unfolding before him.

Ranmaru approached him, anger blazing in his eyes, and shoved a letter addressed to the Oda army into Mitsuhide's hands.

Ranmaru: "Read it, Lord Mitsuhide. I don't need to tell you whose handwriting it is, yeah?"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "Mai. Why?"

As if his soul had left him, Mitsuhide collapsed to his knees.

Standing beside him, Ranmaru trembled and clenched his fist tightly.

Ranmaru: "You're such an idiot! Both you and Lady Mai."

Ranmaru: "How could you shoulder everything alone and plan to disappear like that!?"

Unable to continue speaking, Ranmaru just stood there.

Beside him, Nobunaga quietly sheathed his sword, and the Oda warlords approached.

Masamune: "Throwing away your lives for each other… you two really are alike."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Hideyoshi: "I'll never forgive you. Not for raising your army, but for making Mai cry!"

Ieyasu: "Don't think you can get away with an easy punishment like being cut down."

Mitsunari: "There's work we expect you to carry out, even if it takes a lifetime."

Keiji: "Well, even if we didn't tell you, you'd probably do it on your own."

Nobunaga: "Leave, Mitsuhide. You're expelled from the Oda army permanently."

Mitsuhide: "Lord Nobunaga…"

Nobunaga: "Leave, and do what you must."

Nobunaga: "Even if it takes the rest of your life, find Mai."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Life slowly returned to Mitsuhide's eyes.

Ranmaru: "There's one more letter. It's from Lady Mai."

The letter contained only a single sentence.

Mitsuhide: "............"

Clutching the letter to his chest, Mitsuhide sank further to his knees, his face hidden from everyone.

Masamune: "That girl isn't the kind to throw away her life so easily."

Masamune: "Even if she becomes invisible to everyone, she'll keep on living, as long as her sanity holds."

Keiji: "That sounds like a living hell to me."

Mitsuhide: "No, I won't let it come to that."

Masamune and Keiji: "!?"

Mitsuhide lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes reflecting both endless despair and a glimmer of hope.

Mitsuhide: "If she's going to hell, then I'm going with her."

That night, news quickly spread throughout Japan that Mitsuhide had been killed and his rebel army had fallen apart.

Motonari: "Tch. Your prediction came true. How boring."

Kicho: "Don't complain. If that's how it is, we'll simply move on to the next step."

Motonari: "Hurry it up, then. I'd really prefer not to be bored to death the second time."

Motonari: "So? What happened to the mastermind who hijacked our plans?"

Kicho: "They haven't found Mitsuhide's head."

Motonari: "Being ripped apart in battle and disappearing without a trace? That's such a boring way to end, don't you think?"

Kicho: "There's no need to worry."

Kicho: "He's a man who treats others and even himself as mere pawns, but he wouldn't throw his life away for nothing."

Kicho: "Where he's gone, though, is anyone's guess."

And so, the seasons passed.

Mitsuhide: "The sun's coming out."

Watching the drifting clouds fade into the distance, Mitsuhide, dressed as a traveling performer, reached into his belongings and pulled out a bamboo flask, taking a small sip of water.

He closed his eyes and listened, just as he once did when he traveled with Mai.

Now, he was alone, searching for the sound of the bell that must still be ringing somewhere in this world.

Mitsuhide: "............"

He opened his eyes and smiled bitterly without meaning to.

No matter how many times he looked back or how many years had passed, the memories of the days they spent together never faded.

If anything, they had grown more vivid, deepening the emotions that continued to well up within him.

Mitsuhide: "Mai."

The name he'd said so many times on his journey slipped from his lips again today.

His only clue, the faint sound of a bell, led him on an endless search with no clear end in sight.

Mitsuhide reached into his robe, pulled out a letter, and carefully unfolded it in the sunlight.

He traced the familiar handwriting, achingly nostalgic, as he reread the letter for the umpteenth time.

The letter contained only a single line:

Mitsuhide, you're my light.

Mitsuhide: "You truly were an incredible teacher."

Mitsuhide: "You dragged out every emotion I had locked away just like this."

Mitsuhide: "Thanks to you, even traveling alone has been anything but dull."

The wound of their parting still bled, still brought him searing pain, yet, even that pain had become precious to him.

Mitsuhide: "What am I supposed to do, Mai?"

Mitsuhide: "The joy, the sorrow, the fear—I don't think I can let go of any of it now."

Even now, Mitsuhide clung to the memory of that happiness.

Ring

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide looked around and a cool breeze rustled the grass and flowers.

Mitsuhide: "Are you there?"

Ring

The bell chimed softly.

Mitsuhide: "............"

He reached out his arm, grasping at the air.

It was as though he was trying to embrace the entire world—a world where Mai still existed.

Mitsuhide: "Mai."

He'd decided to chase her endlessly.

He'd decided to believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that Mai was alive somewhere in this world—even if he could no longer see her, hear her voice, or touch her.

He chose not to despair. He chose the hope that burned like hellfire.

Mitsuhide: "............"

The sound of the bell quickly faded away along with the wind.

Mitsuhide: "A game of tag, huh? Fine by me."

Mitsuhide: "I'll catch you without fail."

Mitsuhide: "I'll spend my life saving you."

Mitsuhide: "Mai. You are, without a doubt, my light."

And so, Mitsuhide began walking again under the gentle sunlight with a genuine smile on his face.

🦊 Previous Part

[concretejunglefm]

Vulnerably.

Summary: Noah, initially open to the idea of being shared between you and another dom, gradually becomes hesitant.

Pairing: sub!Noah Sebastian x dom f!reader.

CW: none. mention of dom/sub dynamic but focuses on establishing and respecting boundaries between partners.

Noah's demeanor has changed. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, and his gaze has lost its usual sparkle. He's avoiding you, but not in his usual timid way. There's something more to his subdued posture, as if he's retreating from the current situation.

You'd been discussing the idea of sharing him for a while. It was a fantasy you'd both often verbalized during intimate moments, especially when you explored one another.

You always adored the way he sounded whenever you would taunt him, even going as far to play out your fantasy by covering those beautiful doe eyes you loved so much with a blindfold, and selling him the idea that you were someone else.

It was always you whose hands touched him, whose lips left soft, delicate kisses, and whose nails marked him in your own unique way. You never imagined you'd crave the idea of sharing him, especially since Noah was yours, your partner, your lover, and your submissive.

A brief discussion of the fact had brought you to this point, and now you could sense his hesitation.

When you notice the sudden change in his behavior, you can't resist pulling him aside to talk.

"What's wrong, Noah?" Your voice is gentle, guiding him to your shared bed and sitting with him on the end.

Your guest for the evening is in another room, a friend who was more of an acquaintance, perhaps another reason for his hesitation.

"Nothing." He shakes his head, turning away from you. You bring a hand to his cheek, gently guiding him back, encouraging him to look at you.

"Noah." You press  him, but his eyes continue to avoid yours. You refuse to let him slip away without discussing whatever was troubling him.

His mouth twists slightly, as if he is contemplating his words. "I don't want to do this." He begins, and you offer him a gentle look of encouragement when your eyes briefly meet. His voice is soft and small, contrasting with the man you know on stage or in your private life. He's being more vulnerable than ever, and you gently stroke his cheek, offering a soothing touch.

"Okay." You nod, and his gaze finally meets yours.

"Okay?" He asks, sounding surprised.

"Okay." You confirm with a soft smile and lean up to gently kiss his lips, another offer of assurance. "I'll tell her to leave."

"Wait, but you wanted this." He says.

There it is, the real reason he's been holding back. You shake your head. "Not if you don't want it."

"But…"

"No buts, Noah. If you're not comfortable, I'd never make you do something you didn't want to do." You stroke your fingers back up through his hair and pull your hand away before reaching for his.

Your fingers slip between his own, intertwining them. You feel him squeezing your hand, but his face still looks unconvinced.

"Sweet boy." You tilt your head, offering him a gentle look. "Talk to me."

Perhaps right now, with your guest waiting in the other room, is the worst time to have this conversation, but it's also one you're not sure if he'll allow you to revisit if you stop now.

"I just… I liked the idea of it." Noah whispers, his gaze dropping to your hands. You feel his thumb rubbing in circles against yours. "I liked the idea that someone else was touching me. Someone doing the things you do."

You don't interrupt him; you listen, your eyes fixed on him. Even as he continues to avoid your gaze, as if shy about the subject. He doesn't want to let you down, you can sense it in his voice, but he's not. You want to reassure him, so you lay your other hand over yours, giving him a firm squeeze.

"But what I liked the most was knowing that it was you doing it." You sit up a bit more, struck by the weight of his confession. "I liked the fantasy of it."

Sometimes, fantasies were allowed to stay as that, to be your own little private enjoyment where you never sought to fulfill them, not completely.

"And that's perfectly okay." You assure him.

"Is it?" He looks at you a little more hopeful now, the light returning in his eyes, and it makes your heart soften.

"Honestly, I don't like the idea of someone else touching you either." You confess, revealing your own insecurities, mirroring the vulnerability he had shared with you.

"Really?" He seems taken aback by your confession, and you sheepishly nod.

"What if she pleases you more than I can?" You laugh, but there's a hint of vulnerability in your voice. The depth of your relationship extends beyond sex, yet the lingering doubt remains, gnawing at the back your mind if you were to share him with someone else.

"I would be okay with showing you off." You offer, contemplating the thought and nodding in agreement. "Showing you off because of how pretty you are, but no touching."

"Showing off? I would be okay with that." He replies, his voice becoming slightly shy and quiet once more. You can't help but smile, finding pleasure in watching him express his desires. "I want them to see what a good boy I can be for you." 

"I would like that." You nod, gently stroking his cheek before standing. "But not now. I'll tell our guest that we've changed our minds."

"Are you sure?" You notice the slight apprehension in his face and lean in to press a loving kiss to his lips once more.

"More than ever." You assure him, slowly untangling your fingers from each other as you head towards the door.

"Baby?" Noah calls out after you.

You glance back at him. "Hm?"

"Perhaps we can talk about this more after they've left, while we're both in bed?"

"Of course, my sweet boy." You smile, blowing him a kiss from across the room before slipping out to excuse your guest, intent on spending the rest of the evening sharing your thoughts, desires, and most importantly, establishing your boundaries.

[k1ng-ej]

Politely requesting (desperately begging) for Michael Myers and Thomas Hewitt with a (fem preferably) s/o that is super talkative and can have a conversation for hours by themselves with their nonstop rambling 🙏🏼 (my friends now time me, my record for nonstop talking about one topic is thirty two minutes)

Thomas Hewitt & Michael Myers X Reader who is talkative and rambles a lot!

Thank you for the request! Talkative is the complete opposite of what i am so i was a little stumped when i first wrote this lol. i hope you enjoy!!

Thomas Hewitt

He truly appreciates your rambling. Although he's not much of a conversation person, he’ll happily listen to you until he needs to assist Luda Mae with household chores. He finds it adorable when he catches you talking to yourself while you're busy, whether it's helping with dinner or tackling the laundry. You always manage to spark a conversation, no matter what you’re doing.

As you and Thomas lay together in bed, nestled in his embrace with your head gently resting on his chest, he played with your hair while you chatted away. Though he only half-listened to your words, he relished the soothing sound of your voice. Recently, you've taken the time to teach him how to braid hair, and now he was focused on practicing his newfound skill with your locks.

His touch was tender, and though you couldn't see it, his loving gaze was fixed upon you. He had skillfully braided a section of your hair before pausing to run his fingers through the loose strands, intently listening as you spoke. At one moment, you tilted your head up to him, seeking comfort as you nestled into his side.

He smiled warmly, his hand gently cradling your cheek. You were in the midst of recounting your trip to the store with Luda Mae, elaborating on every little detail and getting sidetracked a few times. Thomas gazed at you intently, his thumb softly stroking your cheek, completely captivated by your words.

As you were speaking, he leaned in and gently kissed your forehead, followed by a soft kiss on your lips. Your initial shock faded swiftly, and you resumed your conversation, only to be interrupted once more by his sweet kiss.

"Hey, I'm trying to tell you a story." You whined, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. While you enjoyed Tommy's kisses, you wanted to finish your story before he smothered you with them.

He shook his head softly, planting gentle kisses on your lips before finally nodding, encouraging you to continue speaking.

Michael Myers

Initially, he found you to be quite bothersome. He couldn't comprehend how one person could have an endless supply of topics to discuss or how you were able to engage in lengthy monologues with yourself. Frequently, he would stand up and walk away in the midst of your chatter.

As time went on, he became accustomed to it and could endure the noise, yet there were moments when he craved silence. Though he would never confess it, there were instances when he genuinely tuned in to your conversation and even found himself intrigued.

Both of you sat on the couch, a random movie flickering on the TV. As you focused on creating a birthday gift for your friend, you shared amusing stories about them with your murderous boyfriend. It didn’t matter whether he was listening or not; you simply enjoyed recounting the tales.

Out of nowhere, a hand pressed firmly over your mouth. Confused, you furrowed your brows and glanced at Michael, who remained fixated on the television before him.

You pried his hand off with a frown. "That was rude, you know you can just turn the tv up if you don't want to hear me, right?"

With excruciating slowness, he turned his head to face you. Although his eyes were concealed by the mask, his gaze held an intensity that was impossible to ignore. You arched an eyebrow and let out a sigh before returning to the task of wrapping the gift, continuing the tale you had been sharing.

Barely a few words in, his hand was back over your mouth. You attempted to push it away, but it was no use. Frustration escaped in a huff through your nose as you shot him a glare, though he remained fixated on the movie.

Michael felt a sudden wetness followed by a sharp, painful pinch on his palm. Instinctively, he pulled his hand back and examined the damage. Deep teeth marks were indented in his skin, leaving it slightly red and swollen. As he turned to face you, he caught sight of your mischievous smirk.

"You gonna let me finish my sentence now?"

You could hear him huffing behind his mask as he leaned back against the couch. Satisfied, you nodded and resumed sharing stories about your friend while you wrapped their gift.

[sirserpentine]

The disguised serpent let out an exasperated chuckle at Alastor's comment. As much as he shook his head at the mention of those dangerous tendrils, he found himself imagining what it would be like to be caught by them in a less harrowing manner than the one mentioned.

He must have been deranged for such curiosity. But perhaps he would be able to voice it out loud in a situation with a few more litres of wine. Maybe.

Pentious was in the middle of his second piece of orange when Alastor revealed his own candid thoughts. The fruit went down with another swig of the aforementioned wine, an encouraging coat of red appearing from the beverage and flirtation both.

"There is ravaging to be done? Goodness, then I suppose I must save the cake for later," Pentious countered. For the after part, the lovely and sore one. From where he sat, Alastor looked far more tempting than dessert anyway. Pentious wiped his lip with as much elegance as he could before pushing himself up and swaying over to the other demon.

"Perhaps I may enjoy it whilst too spent to do much else," he said, allowing himself the privilege of sitting on Alastor's lap, sideways instead of straddling now. He laid his hands over the other Sinner's shoulders and leaned in to kiss the other's mouth, sweet from the residue of the fruit.

"I have thought about it a lot. About how I may keep you close to me with my legs. How I can be turned around whichever way you want," he whispered, pressing against the other demon with most of his weight.

"That shower was agonising without you."

But, that had been the point. So this would feel all the more rewarding.

Never one to turn down a meal, Alastor polishes his own similarly. The steak, though having not been his actual selection, sated just as well as the chicken might have. And he chased it effectively with the rather large portion of sides he'd procured as well. Still not full - never full, even now - but content for the time being, sipping casually at his wine as they enjoyed the peaceful moment, free of oppressive themes of his own personal tragedy.

At least for now.

"I will do my utmost to treat the handling of it with the privilege it's owed," he offered in turn. Absently, he wondered what it might look like braided, but Alastor did not know how to do that. Best to not make the attempt and sully it with haphazard hair dressing skills. Alastor had never really had any long hair - not in childhood and not in adulthood. Its length in death was the longest it had ever been - and even then, he had never found it especially prudent to style it in any meaningful way aside from straight.

But, it seemed, that was not something that everyone found as appealing. The mention of his curls - evident as they were now - had him blinking once or twice as he seemed to consider the request.

"Only for you. It makes it incredibly hard to have my tendrils wrapped around one's throat when they are too busy complimenting the volume of my hair." It was a half joke. But he did tend to give a softer impression when he was so curly and fluffy. Too soft. He would like to remain much more sharp angled than that.

The offer of the orange made him give it a brief stare. He was less opposed to citrus fruits than other, sweeter options. And so he had no problem with taking it from Pentious to pop into his own mouth. Not quite as prim or proper in its consumption, but sometimes the illusion of being such had to drop. He was a bit emotionally and mentally spent, for the time being. And he had no real reason to overly impress.

Which meant that perhaps he could be just a bit more brazen.

"You'll have to tell me when you're done so I can properly ravage you."

Just tossing that out there unbidden. They were in private. It was fine.