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[tender-rosiey]

slip up — gojo satoru x f!reader

satoru is a good dad, a great one even, but every great dad has a great slip up.

your husband’s happened when he was preparing a dinner surprise for you. he had his little missy help him out through the process, and everything was going according to plan until the batch of fresh cookie batter fell from his hands.

“oh fuck!” he had said, in panic, and scrambled to sweep them off the floor.

his little girl was standing there the whole time, staring at her papa. he quickly looks at her, “don’t say what papa said, okay? it’s a bad word.”

she frowned lightly, “then why did you say it, papa?”

“because—,” he took a deep breath, “papa made a mistake, but you have to be better than papa, please?”

your husband was worried the little devil wouldn’t let it slide and would hold it against him like she did with many other things; fortunately for him, though, she simply narrowed her eyes at him then quickly smiled with a nod, “okay!”

with a grin, he pulled her into his arms, “that’s papa’s girl!”

and so it was put behind them, never to be talked about. unbeknownst to your husband, however, the little girl has been practicing the word before she slept, muttering small little ‘fuck’s over and over again.

it was simple knowledge, only to be used in the far future, but how far?

anyway.

you guys are now on a family grocery trip, and your little daughter is more than ecstatic. she is running through the aisles, pointing and gaping at every product she sees—with occasional ew’s over others.

it was a fun time, but you had to actually get some of the necessities.

so you and satoru agreed to split up to make the search faster, and that’s why he and his little girl are roaming the store together.

d/n is seated comfortably in the cart as satoru pushes it, “okay, so mama said we need chicken strip, nuggets, milk, and butter—"

"yum!"

"—and frozen vegetables and peas.”

“ew.”

satoru nods, "ew, indeed," before planting a kiss on her cheek. "you really are my daughter!"

“yay!” she giggles, and politely asks to be picked up. the dramatic girl squeals until her feet touch the ground, and she bolts into the section of the frozen food. she points up, excited, “papa, there!”

your husband grins, “that’s right, smart girl!” he pats her head, and reaches for two bags of frozen vegetables, but, unfortunately, one slips out of his hand, “oh god—“

he bends down to pick it up, but he notices his daughter frowning at him, “what’s up, d/n?”

“papa, what the fuck.”

satoru’s eyes widen instantly as he gently holds her by the shoulders, “d-d/n, don’t say that,” he sweat-drops, “mama will get mad—“

“mad at what?” you smile at your family, finally back with your share of groceries.

your husband nervously chuckles, picking your little girl up and rocking her gently in his arms, “oh nothing! she was just playing with the bags, right, sweetie?”

d/n points at the bag on the ground, “papa dropped the fucking peas.”

the smile on your face tightens, “he did; didn’t he?” you step closer, and your husband freezes in place. you look sweetly at your daughter, “d/n, where did you hear that word?”

she tilted her head lightly, “which one?”

you’re gripping your husband’s hand tightly, preventing him from escaping. he will be facing your wrath today whether he likes it not. you hum, applying more pressure on his fingers and responding to your daughter, “the one that starts with the letter f, honey.”

she beams, “oh! I heard papa say it before!”

“really now?” your grip tightens and satoru swears that might pee himself right then and there. he also is fighting the need to scream. so you, for a moment, divert your attention to glare at him so he can compose himself.

and everyone knows that gojo satoru is a man weak, very weak, when it comes to his wife.

you look back at your daughter, “but seriously, don’t say that word again; it’s a bad word,” you pat her head, “good big girls don’t say bad words, right?”

she looks down at her feet and fidgets with her fingers, “yeah…but papa is big too!”

you pull your husband beside you, hand sliding around his waist, gripping him tightly, “papa can be a bad boy sometimes, but you are a good big girl,” you smile, “so you can do much better!”

you let go of your husband to hug your daughter, “promise me you won’t say it,” you stick your pinky finger out, and your daughter happily seals the deal.

“I promise, mama!”

"good girl; now, can you go to that nice lady and ask her where the tissues are?" you say as you plant a kiss on her cheek.

your little girl salutes you and immediately runs towards the woman, leaving you to deal with your other baby. you stand up to look at satoru. he takes a breath, “babe, you see—“

“you better pick your words correctly, ‘toru.”

he deflates and dejectedly wraps his arms around you, “I am sorry,” he grumbles, “I did tell her that it was a bad word though! I promise!”

you sigh and cup his face, “I know, I know, but you have to control your vocab around her as much as possible,” you turn your head to the cart full of a variety of candy. you frown, “why the fuck did you get so much candy, though? you know she would try to eat them all day—“

you hear a tiny gasp, “mama said a bad word!”

then you hear your husband using a high-pitched voice to mock you, “’ but you have to control your vocab around her as much as possible’.”

you stare at the both of them, before smiling, “both of you are grounded.”

“what?!”

satoru pouts, “you can’t ground me! I am your husband!”

“grounded,” you repeat, emphasizing each syllable.

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[brunchable]

Meet Me On a Midsummer's Night.

Pairings: beefy!Bucky x F!Reader [ pre-established rs ] Warning: MUTUAL PINING. FLUFF. BUCKY SMUG AND A TEASING MF. PDA. Summary: On a hot night, you can’t fall asleep thinking about this and that— you finally call Bucky. You didn’t know he'd come out to meet you but he did. A/N: I've been digging my playlist and I stumbled upon my old korean hip-hop playlist. It's summer here in Aus and the song is about meeting someone they like in the middle of the night and this is the product. I'll leave the song here, and if you know this song, you're awesome.

The ceiling fan creaked overhead, pushing the thick, summer air around your room without mercy. You kicked off your sheet for what felt like the hundredth time, staring at the faint glow of your phone on the nightstand. Midnight, it whispered, daring you to do something impulsive.

Your thumb hovered over Bucky’s name in your contacts, nerves coiling in your stomach. The sensible part of you begged you to stop. But the other part—the part that lingered on his laugh too long, memorized the exact shade of his smile—urged you forward.

Your thumb hovered over his name in your contacts for an embarrassing amount of time. You bit your lip, debating, until finally—finally—you pressed Call before you could change your mind.

It only rang once before his voice poured through the speaker, low and warm like honey.

“Hey.”

His voice was warm and a little raspy, like he hadn’t quite shaken off sleep. The sound wrapped around you, and your lips curled into a smile you were too glad he couldn’t see.

“Hey,” you whispered back, trying not to sound too breathless. “What’re you doing?”

“Not much. Just… chilling.” A faint rustle came through the line, like he’d sat up. “You?”

You pressed your palm to your forehead, silently berating yourself. What were you doing? What was this? And why did your heart feel like it was trying to climb out of your chest?

“I, um—can’t sleep,” you blurted before logic could catch up to your words. “It’s the heat. Thought maybe… you’d want to meet up?”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough that you bit your lip and cursed yourself for saying something so ridiculous. Then Bucky chuckled, low and warm, like he couldn’t quite believe you.

“It’s midnight,” he said, his tone teasing. But then, softer: “Sure.”

You blinked, your stomach flipping in a way that felt entirely too much for someone agreeing to meet you. 

“Cool,” you said, trying for nonchalant.

“Cool,” he echoed. There was a pause, and you could almost picture the amused quirk of his lips. “Uh… so… we actually need a meeting place, if we’re doing this.”

“Oh, gosh, yeah,” you stammered, flustered. Your fingers curled into the sheets as you scrambled for an idea. “Um… your favorite bar? Death and Taxes? That’s still your favorite, right?”

He laughed, soft and deep, like he couldn’t help himself. “Still my favorite. Death and Taxes it is.”

You could almost picture him leaning back against the headboard, his lips quirking up at the corners.

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

“Yeah… see you.”

The call ended, and you pressed your phone against your chest like it could stop your heart from breaking free of your ribcage. For a moment, you just sat there, letting the giddy, reckless feeling take over. You stared at the ceiling, cheeks warm, a wild smile tugging at your lips.

Then you bolted out of bed.

Your closet door creaked open as you rifled through it, tossing rejected options onto the floor. Something light, something comfortable—it wasn’t like this was a date. But still, you didn’t want to look like you’d just rolled out of bed, even though you absolutely had. You finally settled on a loose, flowy top and shorts, tying your hair back with a lazy knot and slipping on your sandals.

The walk to the bar felt longer than it should have, every step only adding to the fluttery mess in your stomach. It wasn’t nerves, exactly—okay, maybe it was nerves. It had been so long since you’d seen him. Long enough that you weren’t entirely sure if you’d even recognize him.

He wasn’t big on social media, wasn’t one for selfies or tagged pictures. Sure, you had the version of him burned into your memory—the sharp jawline, piercing eyes, the way he always looked like he belonged in a leather jacket, even if he wasn’t wearing one. But people changed. What if he’d changed? What if he walked up, and you had to pretend to place him? The thought made your cheeks flush with secondhand embarrassment.

You arrived first, of course. The bar was quiet at this hour, the neon sign glowing faintly against the brick wall, casting soft red and blue hues onto the sidewalk. You stood just outside, rocking slightly on your heels, the night’s heat sticking to your skin. The air buzzed with crickets and the faint hum of cars in the distance, but all you could focus on was the wild beat of your heart.

Would he even look the same? Would it be weird? Would he—

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name cut through your thoughts, and you turned on instinct.

The world slowed.

It wasn’t just a turn. It was a pivot, a gasp caught in your throat as your eyes found him. And oh. Oh, Bucky.

He stood a few feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of dark jeans that fit him almost criminally well. The kind of fit that made your brain short-circuit. His shirt was simple, black, stretched over broad shoulders that practically dared you to look away. His long hair, slightly tousled, caught the faint glow of the neon light, framing his face like he’d just stepped out of a movie poster. And that face. God, that face. The sharp lines of his jaw softened only by the faint stubble that made him look rugged in the most devastating way.

Tall, solid, impossibly handsome—this wasn’t the boy you’d known. This was… something else entirely.

“Hey,” he said, his voice lower, richer than you remembered, like he’d spent the years perfecting it. His lips curled into a small, almost shy smile, but his eyes—blue and bright—were locked on you, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

You stood frozen, blinking up at him, every coherent thought scattering like confetti. It felt like the kind of moment people wrote songs about, the kind where the summer air turned into something magical just because he was in it.

“Bucky,” you managed, your voice embarrassingly breathy. “You… you’re here.”

“I am,” he said, his smile widening slightly. He stepped closer, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating off him even from a foot away. “You… okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Sorry,” you blurted, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. “It’s just… it’s been a while. And you—” You gestured vaguely at him, your face hot. “You’re… you look…”

His brows lifted, his grin turning into something teasing. “I look…?”

Like a Greek god. Like a walking, talking fever dream. Like you’ve ruined every other man for me.

“Good,” you finished lamely, your voice pitching up slightly at the end. “You look good.”

His chuckle was soft, but it wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you caught the way his gaze swept over you. Not hurried, not lazy—just deliberate enough to make your skin tingle.

“So do you,” he said, his tone casual, but the way he said it—low, like it was just for you—sent your heart tumbling into your stomach. “Better than good, actually.”

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy as you tried to deflect. “What, like you expected me to show up in pajamas?”

He shrugged, that teasing smile still playing on his lips. “Wouldn’t have minded. You could probably pull them off.”

It was impossible to tell if he was joking. It was even more impossible to figure out why your brain was suddenly turning into melted butter.

“Anyway,” he said, glancing toward the bar before looking back at you. “Shall we?”

“Y-Yes, let’s go.” you replied, your voice steadier now, though your pulse was still racing.

He smiled again, the kind of smile that felt like a secret, like you were the only one who got to see it. Then he stepped aside, motioning toward the door. 

“After you.”

You hesitated, glancing at him, then the bar. The thought hit you suddenly, startling and unshakable.

You hadn’t seen him in years, but in this moment—on this hot summer night—it felt like no time had passed at all.

× × × × 

The corner booth of Death and Taxes was quieter, tucked away from the hum of late-night laughter and clinking glasses. It wasn’t completely silent—the bar was alive in that effortless, summery way, the air buzzing with heat and conversation—but it was as close as you’d get. You slid into the seat first, leaving him no choice but to take the one directly across from you, where the glow of the dim light caught your face just right.

Not that he was looking too hard or anything.

Except he absolutely was.

“Two cold ones,” you told the waitress, already glancing at him for confirmation. Bucky raised a brow, smirking. “You remembered.”

“Of course,” you said simply, shrugging like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing. It was a beer at midnight in a corner booth with you. And he was about two seconds away from grinning like an idiot over it.

When the beers came, you both dove into the fries first—crispy, golden, hot—and he realized he’d missed this. You weren’t in a rush, just talking, the way you always had. The kind of easy, back-and-forth rhythm that made him feel like no time had passed.

“It’s been a long time,” he said, taking a sip of his drink before leaning back in his seat. “How’ve you been?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully, your lips curving into a small smile. “Oh, you know. I haven’t really changed much. Still working hard.”

Your voice was light, but it made his chest ache anyway. He knew that look, the way you brushed off the weight of your own life like it wasn’t worth mentioning.

“I’m the same. Still working hard,” he replied. His eyes lingered on you for a beat too long before he asked, “You still dating that same guy?”

He shouldn’t have asked. He knew it the second the words left his mouth. But curiosity—or something else entirely—had gotten the better of him.

“Oh. Um, no.” You busied yourself with your beer, the glass cool against your hand. “We broke up.”

His heart gave a little kick, though he tried not to show it. “You guys broke up? Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He reached for a fry, half-smiling. “It’s good to see you anyway.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly, looking up at him again. There was something unreadable in your gaze, something he wanted to spend the rest of the night deciphering. “It was a while back. But it’s good to see you too.”

God, stop looking at me like that.

He leaned forward, his elbow on the table, watching the way your fingers idly traced the condensation on your glass. “Time goes by so fast, huh?” he mused. “We’ve already come all this way, but how come you haven’t changed at all?”

You raised a brow at him, playful but curious.

You tilted your head at him, your brow arching slightly, the corners of your mouth quirking.

“You’re still pretty,” he added, and though he chuckled, his words landed softer than he expected. Half-joking, yeah, but the truth was so clear it hurt.

Your reaction wasn’t what he expected. You looked down, your fingers brushing the rim of your glass as a quiet laugh escaped you. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said lightly, waving him off before quickly changing the subject. “So, what about you? Been up to anything exciting?”

Why are you changing the subject? The thought rolled through his mind, unbidden but persistent. His eyes lingered on your face, the way you avoided his gaze with that bashful smile. Is it because of the alcohol or because you’re shy?

He shifted in his seat, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned forward. “What, you don’t want me getting sentimental on you?”

Your laugh bubbled up again, the sound warm and easy, but you didn’t answer.

Yeah, he thought, watching the way you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, your cheeks just a shade warmer than before. It’s because you’re shy.

And god help him, it only made him want to say more.

Bucky took another long sip of his beer, the cool bitterness doing little to distract him from the way your smile lingered in his mind, soft and teasing. The overhead lights cast a warm glow on your skin, and he could see the faint sheen of summer heat clinging to your collarbones. You were leaning forward slightly, your chin propped on your hand, completely at ease—or so it seemed.

His thumb traced the rim of his glass absently, the thought bubbling up in his chest before he could push it down.

“I want to tell you something,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You tilted your head slightly, the curious quirk of your brow pulling his attention to the way your lips curved.

“Hm? And what’s that?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He swirled the beer in his glass once, then set it down deliberately, as if that might make this easier. 

“I used to like you before.”

For a moment, he thought he’d miscalculated. That he’d said too much too soon. But then your reaction broke through his nerves like sunlight on water—a faint laugh, soft and disarming.

“I know,” you said, your tone light, but your gaze flicked to your drink, your fingers tracing the condensation on the glass like it might give you something to hold onto.

The simple words knocked the air clean out of his lungs.

You know? His mind stumbled over the implications. Had he been that obvious? Had you noticed the way he looked at you back then, the way he’d hovered just a little too long when you stood close, his fingers itching to brush yours?

He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. 

“Guess I’m a little drunk. Don’t mind my ramblings,” he muttered, leaning back like that would somehow lessen the weight of what he’d just said.

You gave him a look, one brow arched, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You don’t get drunk.”

Shit.

“I—uh—” His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, heat creeping up to his ears as he tried for a laugh. “Right. Forgot who I was talking to.”

Your smirk grew, but you didn’t press him further. Instead, you took another fry, dipping it in the ketchup and nibbling on the end. His gaze followed the movement like he had no choice in the matter, his thoughts spinning helplessly.

You knew? He wanted to ask, wanted to make you spell it out, wanted to hear it in your voice. Did you really know? Or was this some casual observation, something you didn’t think twice about while it had consumed him for years?

But then you glanced up, your eyes meeting his, and the warmth there—gentle, a little shy—unraveled something in him.

He leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table, his beer forgotten. “If you knew,” he said, his voice quiet now, almost teasing, “why didn’t you say anything?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but the smile that followed was soft. “Why didn’t you?”

His laugh was quiet, rueful. “Touché.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The noise of the bar faded into the background, the space between you charged with something unspoken, something almost tangible. Bucky watched as you took another sip of your drink, your lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, your lips brushing the edge of the glass.

“Do you still?” you asked suddenly, your voice tentative, like the words had escaped without permission.

His heart stuttered, the question catching him off guard. He could lie, brush it off like he had before, but the thought of hiding how he felt—after all this time, after you—felt impossible.

Instead, he leaned forward, close enough that he could see the way your breath caught. 

“What do you think?” he murmured, his voice low, his gaze fixed on yours.

And the way your cheeks flushed, the way your lips parted ever so slightly, was enough to make him think that maybe, just maybe, you already knew the answer.

You let out a nervous huff, the sound breaking through the air between you, as fragile as it was charged. His words hung there, lingering like they had weight, like they could change everything if you gave them room. But you didn’t trust yourself to stay in that moment—not when his gaze was locked on yours like that, steady and warm and impossibly deep.

“It’s getting hot in here,” you said quickly, your voice pitched higher than usual as you slid out of the booth. “We should, um… we should take a walk. Go someplace else.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you dared a glance at him. He was leaning back in his chair now, his head tilted slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. But then he nodded, standing with that same effortless grace that had always made him seem larger than life.

“Sure,” he said simply, his voice easy, as if he hadn’t just made your heart feel like it was trying to claw its way out of your chest. He nodded, standing with that quiet ease of his, reaching for his wallet before you could protest.

You jumped up quickly, your excitement spilling over as you moved toward the door without waiting for him. The cool night air hit your skin as soon as you stepped outside, a welcome relief from the stuffy warmth of the bar. You breathed it in deeply, the summer heat still clinging to the pavement, but at least the air felt freer out here.

“We’re walking, huh?” Bucky said from behind you, his voice teasing but warm. “Got a specific destination in mind, or are we just wandering?”

“Wandering,” you said brightly, not slowing your pace. “Who needs a plan, anyway?”

You felt light, like your feet barely touched the ground as you walked ahead of him, your sandals clicking softly against the pavement. The streetlights cast golden pools along the sidewalk, your shadow dancing playfully as you moved. You threw a glance over your shoulder to see if he was keeping up, and the way he was watching you—his hands stuffed in his pockets, his lips curved into a soft, crooked smile—made something inside you flutter wildly.

“You’re gonna leave me behind,” he called, his tone mock-scolding.

“Then hurry up!” you called back, laughing as you skipped a few steps ahead, your movements careless and free.

For a moment, it felt perfect. Like something out of a summer dream, the hum of crickets filling the quiet spaces between your laughter and his easy steps.

And then—oh god.

A shadow darted near your face, too fast and too sudden, and you froze in the middle of the sidewalk. It took you half a second to process it—a beetle, its shiny wings catching the light as it buzzed straight toward you.

“AH! GO AWAY.” The words tumbled out as you flailed, stumbling backward and nearly losing a shoe in the process.

Bucky stopped in his tracks, his brows shooting up. “What the—?”

“BUG!” you yelped, pointing wildly at the air around you. “It’s flying! Do something!��

The beetle buzzed again, its wings making a high-pitched hum as it veered closer. You squeaked, ducking dramatically and running behind Bucky like he was a human shield.

He turned, his expression somewhere between concern and disbelief. “Are you serious right now? It’s just a beetle.”

“It’s not just a beetle!” you hissed, gripping his arm like your life depended on it. “It’s a flying. Look at it!”

He glanced at the beetle, then back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’re freaking out over that? It’s like… half an inch.”

“It’s not the size that matters!” you shot back, still cowering behind him. “It’s the intent! Look at it—it’s coming for me!”

That did it. He broke, his laughter spilling out in soft, rich waves that vibrated through his chest. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but he stepped forward anyway, waving a hand to shoo the beetle away.

When it finally buzzed off into the night, you peeked over his shoulder cautiously, still clutching his arm. 

“Is it gone?”

“Yes, it’s gone,” he said, still chuckling. “You can come out of hiding now.”

You straightened, brushing imaginary dirt off your top as if that might restore some of your dignity. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Don’t mention it, bug magnet.” His voice was full of barely concealed laughter, and you turned to glare at him, but he only grinned wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Not funny,” you muttered, though you couldn’t quite keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

“Oh, it’s very funny,” he countered, and the warmth in his gaze made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the beetle.

And when his hand brushed against yours as you both started walking again, your heart skipped so hard you thought it might give out entirely.

× × × ×

The hill wasn’t far—just a short walk past quiet streets and through a small park. The city stretched out below like a sea of twinkling lights, the soft hum of distant traffic blending with the chirping of crickets. The air was still warm, but up here, a slight breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of grass and something faintly sweet.

You spotted the bench first, nestled beneath a tall tree, its silhouette just visible against the glow of the city below. Without waiting for him, you made your way over, plopping down with a contented sigh and stretching your legs out in front of you. The wood was cool against your skin, grounding you after the walk.

Bucky followed, his steps slower, more deliberate. When he reached the bench, he hesitated for a moment before sitting beside you, close enough that your knees almost touched. Almost.

“Nice spot,” he said, leaning back and resting an arm along the back of the bench, his fingers just brushing your shoulder. His voice was low, casual, but there was a softness to it, like he wasn’t just talking about the view.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your gaze fixed on the skyline. The city lights flickered like a million little stars, stretching endlessly, but you couldn’t help feeling like the real magic was sitting next to you. “I used to come up here a lot.”

“Alone?” His voice tilted just enough to make the word feel heavier than it should.

“Sometimes,” you said, glancing at him. His profile was sharp against the faint glow of the streetlights, his hair falling in soft waves that caught the breeze. You looked back at the city quickly, your heart tripping over itself. “It’s peaceful. Helps me think.”

“Think about what?” His voice was closer now, like he’d leaned in just a little. You felt the weight of his gaze on you, like he could see through every answer you wanted to give and straight to the truth.

“Stuff,” you said vaguely, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. “Life. Work.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, and when you glanced at him, his lips were curved into that crooked, teasing smile that made your chest ache.

“I’m not lying!” you protested, though your voice betrayed you, the words coming out more flustered than you intended.

“You’re thinking about me,” he said, so casually it took you a second to realize what he’d said.

Your head snapped toward him, your mouth falling open in protest, but the look on his face stopped you cold. His smile was soft now, his blue eyes steady and full of something you couldn’t quite name.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “I take up way too much space in that head of yours.”

You scoffed, trying to sound indignant, but the laugh that followed betrayed you. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m right,” he countered, leaning just a little closer, his arm still stretched along the back of the bench. His fingers brushed your shoulder again, light and deliberate, like a dare. “And you know it.”

You rolled your eyes, looking away, but your lips twitched into a smile. “You’ve got a big ego, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he said, and when you glanced back, the grin he gave you was pure trouble. “But I’m not wrong.”

The moment stretched, the silence between you filled only by the faint breeze and the hum of the city below. His gaze never wavered, steady and unrelenting, and you felt yourself drawn in despite every effort to look away.

“You still haven’t denied it,” he pointed out, his voice quieter now, softer. 

Your heart pounded, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “What’s the point? You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

He laughed softly, the sound rich and warm. 

“You’re right,” he admitted, his smile tilting into something almost sheepish. “I wouldn’t.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your own laugh, but it slipped out anyway, light and breathless. 

“Ugh.”

“I mean who did you call to meet you out here? At midnight?” he shot back, his tone lighter now, teasing but full of warmth.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, the way the light caught in his eyes, the faint crinkle at the corners of his smile. 

“Maybe I should’ve called someone else.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up, his lips twitching into an incredulous grin. “Someone else?” he repeated, leaning in slightly, the faintest spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You wound me, doll.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I’m serious. Maybe Sam—”

“Sam?” he cut in, a laugh slipping out before he could stop it. He leaned back, spreading his arms along the bench like he was getting comfortable for the show. “You think Sam would leave his comfy bed and perfectly air-conditioned apartment to meet you at midnight? Please.”

“Well—”

“And don’t even say Steve,” he continued, cutting off whatever rebuttal you had. “You know he’s asleep by nine. The man’s practically a grandpa.”

You laughed, unable to help yourself, and the sound only seemed to spur him on.

“Face it,” he said, leaning forward now, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch. “I’m the only one you could call. You wanted me here.”

Your mouth opened, a half-formed protest on the tip of your tongue, but his expression stopped you cold. The teasing curve of his lips was still there, but his eyes—they were steady, intent, like he was daring you to deny it.

“I…” you started, faltering when you realized he wasn’t going to look away.

“Go on,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of challenge. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you managed, your fingers twisting in your lap.

“That you wanted me here.” His smile turned into something softer, warmer, but no less devastating. “That when you couldn’t sleep, I was the first person you thought of.”

Your breath hitched, and you could feel your face heating under his gaze. You tried to look away, to laugh it off, but he leaned in closer, his elbow resting on his knee, his face just inches from yours.

“C’mon,” he coaxed, his voice dropping even lower. “Admit it. It’s only fair.”

“Fair?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Yeah. I already told you I used to like you.” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips for the briefest second before finding your eyes again. “Your turn.”

Your heart pounded, your hands freezing in your lap, and you swore the city had gone completely silent around you. His eyes searched yours, his expression soft but unyielding, like he was ready to wait forever if he had to.

And god help you, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to run—or pull him closer.

“Pft—it’s not like it’s going to change anything,” you reasoned, though your voice betrayed you, soft and unsteady. You looked away, focusing on the skyline instead of the man sitting far too close, his presence making it impossible to think straight.

Bucky didn’t move for a moment, letting your words hang in the air between you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, quiet—dangerously deliberate. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Your breath caught, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back at him. He was leaning forward now, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped loosely together. But his eyes—they were locked on you, piercing, like they were unraveling every carefully constructed excuse you’d ever made.

“How is that wrong?” you challenged, though your voice wavered, giving you away.

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that felt like it had been pulled from deep in his chest. “Because,” he said, leaning back again, his arm stretching across the bench behind you, his fingers just brushing your shoulder. “It changes everything.”

Your stomach flipped, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” he shot back, and there was that teasing edge again, soft and warm but dangerous because it was him. “Tell me, doll, what happens if I kiss you right now?”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, and you froze, your hands gripping the edge of the bench like it might keep you grounded. 

“You wouldn’t.”

Bucky tilted his head, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—didn’t waver. He was studying you like you were some sort of puzzle, his gaze tracing every line of your face, every small movement you made.

“Wouldn’t I?” His voice was low, rough, like gravel smoothed over by honey. And god, it wasn’t fair, the way it made your skin prickle, the way it sent your heart into a dizzying spiral.

You turned your head sharply, staring out at the city like it might save you from whatever this was. But it wasn’t saving you. Not with the way he leaned just a little closer, his arm still draped casually over the back of the bench, his fingers now brushing against your shoulder. The heat of him was impossible to ignore.

“No,” you said, your voice firmer this time, but it still wavered at the end. “You wouldn’t.”

He let out a soft laugh, the sound so low and intimate it curled around you like smoke. “Why’s that?”

“Because—” You faltered, your brain scrambling for a reason, for any reason. “Because you’re all talk.”

Bucky’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened, his lips curving in that maddening way that made your stomach twist and your chest tighten. 

“All talk?” he repeated, his voice a low murmur that slipped over your skin like silk. “That’s what you think of me?”

You swallowed hard, refusing to look at him, even though you could feel his gaze on you—hot, heavy, and completely unrelenting. Your pulse thundered in your ears, a wild, uneven rhythm that made it impossible to think.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat because suddenly, he moved.

He shifted closer, the bench creaking softly under his weight. His arm stretched further along the backrest, and when you finally glanced at him, he was right there. His face hovered just inches from yours, his blue eyes impossibly intense, locked onto yours like he was daring you to look away.

“How about,” he whispered, his voice low and rough enough to send a shiver racing down your spine, “you kiss me, and I’ll show you.”

You inhaled sharply, awareness flaring through every nerve in your body. Kiss him? God, he wanted you to kiss him? He was so close, his lips so close to yours, his warm breath whispering across your mouth. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, and the faint scent of beer and something unmistakably him made your head spin.

“Kiss me,” he said again, his voice low and almost hoarse. He was hovering near you, so tantalizingly close, but decidedly not kissing you. He was waiting for you to press your lips to his, but coming as close to you as he could. Tempting you, encouraging you, pulling you in.

Do it. The thought whispered through your mind, reckless and insistent. He was so close. So impossibly close. One small shift forward, and—

Instead, you faltered, glancing down at his lips. “You’re bluffing.”

His lips twitched into a small, infuriating smirk. “Try me.”

You felt drawn forward as if by a magnet. Lightly, delicately, you pressed your lips to his, feeling how much you trembled, how insubstantial and frail your kiss felt but unable to do anything more. You lingered for just a moment, and then pulled back, uncertainly.

Bucky remained still, not moving, so close, his chest now against yours. He didn't kiss you, he didn't smile, or say anything, and you felt an unfamiliar tremor of panic rise in you.

“I thought you said you'd show me,” you said ruefully, your cheeks beginning to burn. Had you done it wrong? Could a kiss be wrong? You could barely remember your name right now, let alone how to kiss someone. 

Especially this someone.

“Oh I will,” Bucky whispered. “I'm just waiting for you to really kiss me.”

Something in the timbre of his voice, something in the drowsy desire of his words emboldened you. You leaned forward and kissed him more sensuously, taking his lips with yours, opening your mouth and savouring the fullness of his. And with only the slightest of pauses, Bucky took over.

He leaned against your heavily, almost surging into you, his mouth roaming over yours with a heady, sensual slowness that ignited you. His lips moved over yours possessively, with a slow, languid rhythm as his tongue dipped into your mouth to taste you. When his tongue met yours, you let out a little cry of pleasure, feeling an arrow of desire shoot right down to your core.

He groaned at the sound and dipped his tongue into your mouth and out again rhythmically, as if making love to you. One hand slipped around your back and held you while the other slid up to your breast and felt you, owned you, roamed over you like you were a longed-for prize. He groaned against you, and his kiss deepened into a hot, sensual exploration.

You felt weightless, boneless, all but liquefied by the heat of his mouth on yours and the strength of his hands caressing every part of you. His sounds of pleasure, his soft groans and heavy breathing, every male expression of pleasure made you even more desperate for him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into you, kissing him with abandon.

There was no time for words, no breath to be stolen for the little flirtations of new lovers, there was simply this kiss. You fell into each other, seeking, needing, as if making up for all the years you had denied yourselves this pleasure. It was never enough, there was never a moment when it seemed right to part, never the need to break and bring lips to skin, or to fumble with clothing. It was all consuming, and erotic enough, this deep, soulful kiss, this meeting of mouths and breath and sounds.

You weren't friends...not now, and not ever, you suddenly knew. You had always been this to each other, always one breath away from this, always one kiss away. .  one breathless, soulful, beautiful kiss.

Finally—finally—when the need for air had peaked, when the thundering of your hearts needed calming, he reluctantly pulled away, his chest rising and falling with each laboured breath. He smiled at you, a soft laugh escaping through his breathing.

“Now that,” he said, bumping his nose against you as his breath finally began to slow. “Is kissing back.”

Your fingers brushing against your own lips as if to confirm what just happened. Heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks, and you suddenly couldn’t quite meet his gaze.

“I—I should probably get home,” you stammered, your voice higher than you intended. “It’s late.”

Bucky’s brow lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he straightened slightly, his hand lingering at your elbow for just a moment before dropping away. “Alright,” he said softly, his voice warm and steady. “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“You think I’d let you walk home alone?” His eyes narrowed slightly, his tone shifting to something more serious, though the teasing lilt never fully disappeared. “Not a chance, doll.”

Before you could protest again, he was already on his feet, reaching out a hand to help you up. His grip was firm but gentle, his fingers warm around yours, and when you stood, the faintest squeeze sent another ripple of heat through you.

The walk started quietly. The soft noise of crickets filled the summer night, the distant glow of the city lights casting a faint halo on the horizon. The air was thick with unspoken words, every glance and sidelong look charged with the memory of the kiss you’d just shared.

Bucky fell into step beside you, his pace unhurried but purposeful. You noticed it immediately—how he positioned himself closer to the road, his body a silent barrier between you and the passing cars. It was such a small thing, something most people might not even notice, but it made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with the lingering taste of his kiss.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy, the kind that made you acutely aware of everything—of the way his shoulder brushed yours every now and then, of the soft scuff of his boots against the pavement, of the way your heart hadn’t quite settled back into its normal rhythm.

And then, without warning, his hand brushed against yours. It was fleeting, accidental, but the spark it sent through you was impossible to ignore. You glanced up at him, your pulse quickening as you caught the way his lips quirked into the faintest smile.

He didn’t say anything—just slipped his fingers through yours, his grip warm and steady, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles. The gesture was so simple, so natural, but it felt monumental, like crossing some invisible line you could never return from.

You couldn’t help but glance at him again, your lips parting to say something—anything—but the words died on your tongue when you saw the way he was looking at you. His expression was soft, almost shy.

He didn’t look away, and neither did you. The streetlights flickered as you walked beneath them, their glow casting golden pools on the sidewalk, but all you could see was him.

“Are you always this quiet after a kiss?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and teasing, though there was a softness to it that made your heart flutter.

Your face heated, and you looked down at your joined hands, your laugh shaky. “Are you always this smug after one?”

He laughs.

“Depends,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again,“Was it good enough to be smug about?”

You shot him a look, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “Wow, you’re already smug anyway. . .”

“And yet,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch, “you’re still holding my hand.”

You didn’t have an answer for that. Or maybe you did, but it was lost somewhere between the heat of his gaze and the warmth of his palm against yours. And somehow, you didn’t mind one bit.

The walk to your door felt like it ended too soon. One moment, the quiet streets were stretching ahead of you, your hand warm in his, and now, here you were—standing on your front step with no excuse to linger.

Your fingers twitched reluctantly as you let go of his hand, the cool night air rushing in where his warmth had been. You caught the faintest flicker of something on his face—hesitation, maybe?—but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a soft, crooked smile.

The faint glow of your porch light cast soft shadows across his face, making the lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips seem even sharper, even softer all at once.

“I had so much fun today,” Bucky said, his voice quiet but steady, the kind of low timbre that seemed to settle somewhere deep in your chest. “It was so good seeing you.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, your lips curving into a smile even as your heart ached. “Me too.”

He shifted slightly, the smallest movement that still felt impossibly significant. “Good night,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, almost hesitant.

You nodded, your own voice barely above a whisper. “Good night.”

But he didn’t turn to leave. Instead, he lingered, his gaze holding yours like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“You have a sweet dream,” he added, his words softer now, gentler, and they hit you like a warm breeze. His lips tilted into a small, almost bashful smile, and the tenderness in his expression stole whatever breath you had left.

You barely managed to nod, your throat too tight to speak. But before you could even think about what to say, he stepped forward, closing the space between you in one unhurried movement.

His arms wrapped around you, solid and warm, pulling you into him without hesitation. It wasn’t hurried or awkward—it was grounding, steadying, like he’d been waiting all night for this. The scent of him—faintly woodsy, clean, and musky—washed over you as his hands settled lightly on your back, and your face pressed against his chest. You could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing, the strength in the way he held you as though he didn’t want the moment to slip away.

“Good night,” he murmured again, his voice rumbling softly against your hair. His arms tightened slightly before he finally, finally let you go, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary before dropping to his sides.

You stepped back, your heart thundering as you looked up at him. 

You swallowed hard, your lips curving into a smile as you opened your door. “Good night, Bucky.”

As the door clicked shut behind you, you leaned against it, your chest rising and falling as you tried to calm your racing heart. On the other side, you imagined him standing there for just a moment longer, smiling to himself the way he always did when he thought no one was looking.

And somehow, that made everything feel perfect.

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @veronicapaula

[enviedear]

JASON TODD deserves to retire—far away from gotham—so without further ado, i present…FARMER!JASON.

i think he’d be in his early to mid thirties before he ever even thought about leaving gotham behind. he’d have to have achieved some form of retribution for what he went through, i just don’t see him forgoing that—even if it’d bring his mind peace.

so when he finally decides to get his affairs in order and retire out to some small, inconspicuous town—he’s thriving. he only has himself to worry with, reminiscent of his childhood. he’s good with his hands, can work long hours, and likes the solitude. damian convinced him, before he left gotham, to get some animals—so he does. a few chickens, some cattle, and a fainting goat an older neighbor couldn’t care for anymore. he’s happy with how it is. nice, peaceful, and quiet. a complete 180° from his old life, both of them.

so enter you, product of a small town and hungry for something more. the first time he meets you, you’re working at your families general store, bored out of your mind. he only had come in for some cow feed, but just one look at you had the big bear of a man scouring shelves to lengthen his stay.

to you, jason sticks out like a sore thumb. he can dress just like and do all the things as the other townsfolk, but the air of something more lingers. you reckon he’s probably like any other city dweller who happens into town—ignorant to how the world works here and usually gone within six months. but then he walks up to the counter, and he’s vastly different to what you expected. soft spoken, weary of eye contact, and rigid manners—uttering, “ma’am” and “thank you so much.”

jason, bless him, is at a loss. you’re so pretty he doesn’t know how to correctly present the fact to you. his hands are all clammy and he picked up at least seven things that he doesn’t fucking need—but he’s still determined. he opens his mouth, once, twice…nothing. finally, when you hand him his change—he clears his throat.

“nice place for a young lady.” and immediately he stills. because it’s not at all what he wanted to say. his embarrassment catches him last, confusion at his own screw up falling ahead.

you huff out a laugh, amused at him more than anything. plus, you encounter plenty of ‘conversationalists’ on the clock.

you give him a smile, “thanks hun,” and then you gesture toward the XL paper cup on the counter with TIPS written across it, “this young lady wouldn’t mind some charity though.”

you wait for him to blink. he does, and the reaches back for his wallet. you stop him, “i was joking, of course.” his hand freezes mid-motion, halfway to his wallet. you can almost see the precise moment the realization actually dawns on him.

jason feels idiotic, childish, and so flustered—he hates that—he's a grown man. god, he doesn’t need to tip you, it was a joke, and now he’s overthinking it. His shoulders are all tense, and for a guy who looks like he could snap a tree in half with his bare hands, the sight is unexpectedly…endearing.

"right," he starts, grabbing for his assortment of goods. "i—uh, got distracted, sorry." and again, he stops—not what he meant to say. he stops listening at this point, nervous as all hell and beat at this little game of wits. he fumbles into a goodbye before bolting for the door.

for the first time since leaving gotham and all that he used to be behind—jason feels a tug. a little liveliness to the quaint life he's carved out. the fact both vexes and amuses him.

he decides that day, to do his shopping with you from now on.

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER NINETEEN: toothpaste

masterlist

*if you want the full sjap chososcamgirl experience click here!

Toothpaste.

That was all she needed.

The familiar jingle of the doorbell sounded as she stepped into the pharmacy, its ring echoing briefly before being swallowed by the soft hum of fluorescent lights above. She moved past the aisles with purpose, the faint scent of antiseptic and the bittersweet smell of charcoal lingering in the air.

At the counter, a brown-haired girl in her late twenties leaned against the register, lazily blowing out smoke from a cigarette.

"Shoko," her name tag read in bright red letters.

Pretty name.

"Hey," she muttered, a casual greeting as she passed. The girl didn't look up, but offered a half-hearted smile, her eyes unfocused as she exhaled smoke, lost in whatever thoughts dulled her day.

Toothpaste.

The word repeated in her head like a quiet mantra, the task simple, mundane. She wandered down the aisles with mechanical precision, her gaze flicking over shelves of medicines and other pharmacy essentials.

Her fingers brushed against boxes, but she didn't really look at them. She wasn't here to linger.

And then she stopped.

A stillness took hold of her. Her body froze mid-step, her pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with the cold air of the aisle.

In the distance, there was a figure. His back was to her, his face buried in his hands, almost in a gesture of resignation or frustration. His stance was familiar in an unsettling way, as if he was trying to disappear into the shelves, as if he were searching for something he didn't know how to find.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, the hum of the lights suddenly deafening in her ears. The shape, the posture, the way his shoulders slumped-it was him.

For a moment, she debated standing there. Still, until he noticed her. 

Then, just as her mind screamed at her to stay, she saw him start to turn—his head shifting, eyes beginning to look her way.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and without thinking, she bolted. She pivoted on her heel, her breath quick and shallow as she darted toward the next aisle, her legs carrying her as fast as they could.

She whips out her phone in frustration and starts furiously typing.

“Hey.”  

She freezes, fingers hovering over the screen of her phone, her mind torn between the message she was about to send and the voice she recognizes. Slowly, she looks up.  

His gaze locks with hers.  

Megumi Fushiguro.  

Her eyes narrow, irritation flaring as she exhales sharply. Without a word, she pushes past him, intent on finding what she came for. 

Toothpaste.  

The aisle ahead is a chaotic jumble of brightly coloured shampoo and conditioner bottles—too many choices, too many distractions. She weaves through the sea of products, her focus narrowing to the search for the one thing she came here for.  

“Yn, please, I’m sorry.”  

The words make her blood boil. God, she hates the tone he’s using. It’s almost like he doesn’t get it.  

She bites her lip, trying to ignore the sting of his voice, but before she can refocus, she feels his hands settle gently on her shoulders. It takes all her willpower not to jerk away.  

Not now, Megumi. 

Finally, she spins around, giving him the sharpest glare she can muster.  

“What do you want, Megumi?” she spits, every syllable laced with frustration.  

His frown deepens, his eyes flicking to her lips, a hesitant tension hanging between them. He bites his lip, visibly unsure of how to proceed.  

“I just... I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”  

Her jaw tightens, and she shoots a pointed glance back at the shelves, pretending to be absorbed in the endless row of oral care products. She couldn’t care less about his apology.  

“I heard you the first time,” she mutters, grabbing the toothpaste off the shelf with one hand, her grip tight and fingers stiff. 

A beat of silence stretches between them. Megumi’s voice cuts through again, softer, but with the same persistent edge.  

“So... you’ll forgive me?”  

She scoffs, shaking her head with a bitter laugh, her patience wearing thin. Of course, he would ask something so dumb.  

Finally, her eyes land on the familiar packaging.

Toothpaste.

She picks it up, turning to face him with a glare that could melt stone.  

“No. And if that’s all you have to say, then I’m leaving.” 

With that, she brushes past him once again, this time with more force, walking swiftly toward the checkout counter. She can still smell the lingering scent of cigarettes, the same stale air she’d walked into when she first arrived.  

The conveyor belt moves slowly beneath her, and she places the toothpaste down with a faint clink. Her fingers automatically slip into her pocket, searching for her wallet.  

And then, she hears it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her.  

She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. Her shoulders sag, frustration mounting in her chest. Of course he’d follow me.

She groans internally, preparing herself for whatever nonsense he’ll say next.

"Will this guy ever get a fucking life?" she mutters under her breath, barely holding back an eye roll.

“I got it,” a voice called from behind her.

The cashier, unfazed by the tension hanging in the air, set her pornographic magazine aside and casually picked up the toothpaste. Her cigarette, still smouldering in her mouth, bobbed up and down as she scanned the item, her expression completely indifferent to the moment's awkwardness.

She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Megumi from head to toe, as if waiting for him to do something else.

"Oh shit, uh, and these too," he stammered, placing the box of Magnum condoms on the conveyor belt, nervously scratching his neck.

Yn's eyes flickered to the box and then back to him. "Big night planned, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with mock amusement as she glared at the condoms.

Megumi’s face reddened. "Oh, uh, those aren’t for me," he mumbled, his discomfort palpable.

She merely gave a disinterested "Mhm," chewing the inside of her gum as the cashier processed the transaction.

Megumi opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, but was cut off by her.

"Did you guys want a bag?" she asked flatly.

"Yeah, please," Yn answered quickly, eager to leave the awkwardness behind.

The sound of plastic rustling filled the silence, only intensifying the tension. The cashier bagged their items with a practised, almost bored efficiency—as if this kind of transaction was the least exciting thing to happen all day.

Before Megumi could protest any further, a cloud of smoke from the cashier’s cigarette drifted in their direction. She didn’t even flinch.

“That’ll be 4250 yen, please,” she said lazily, still grinning, unfazed by the duo hacking their lungs out from the smoke.

Megumi quickly covered his mouth with his arm, pulling out his wallet with the sort of frantic haste only a person desperate to escape awkwardness can manage. He fumbled with his card, sliding it into the reader. The machine beeped.

Yn grabbed the bag in one swift motion, already on her way out of the store.

Megumi, looking flustered but relieved, gave a curt nod to the cashier before jogging after her, eager to leave the bizarre scene behind.

The cashier took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes following the two figures darting across the parking lot. She exhaled a thick plume of smoke, watching them with a detached amusement, tinged with something darker—something she didn’t care to name.

"Kids," she muttered to herself, shaking her head with a soft, resigned chuckle before turning her attention back to the magazine before her, as if it might shield her from whatever she couldn’t bear to witness.

—

The sharp click of shoes on wet concrete echoed in the cold night, piercing the stillness like a warning. 

"Yn, please!" Megumi’s voice cracked, strained with exhaustion and desperation as he closed the gap between them.

Yn kept her head down, hands shoved deep into her pockets, the cold metal of the keys biting into her skin. Her pace quickened, heart racing as though the faster she moved, the less likely he would be able to reach her, to make her turn around. She couldn’t hear him. Not now. Not when everything she’d been holding back was on the edge of spilling over.

"Megumi, stop," she whispered, voice tight, trembling at the edges. "I already told you, I—"

Before she could finish, she felt his hand grip her wrist, pulling her to a halt. The sudden force of it made her breath catch, and for a moment, she was still trapped between the pull of his touch and the weight of her own resolve.

She looked at him, and everything inside her stilled.

His eyes weren’t the same. They were darker now, heavy with something deeper than she had ever seen in them before. No arrogance. No defiance. Only raw, unfiltered regret. Sadness. The kind that seemed to press in on his chest, making it hard to breathe, to think. He couldn’t meet her gaze for long; his eyes flickered to the ground, and for a moment, he looked like he might break. Like his whole world was about to shatter into a thousand pieces, right there on the wet pavement.

"Yn, please," he whispered, voice breaking, so full of pain it made her chest tighten. "I never meant any of it. What I said... it was so fucking stupid. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to lose you. I know... I know it’s selfish, asking you to stay, but I can’t... I can’t lose you. Please." 

"Megumi, I—"

He cut her off, his voice hoarse, trembling with the weight of everything he hadn’t said before. "And I know you told me you weren’t ready for a relationship, and I’ve tried to understand that, to give you space. I’ve accepted it, even if it wasn’t easy. But..." His words faltered, and for a moment, he looked like he might swallow them back down, like they were too heavy for him to carry. But then he breathed in, steadying himself. 

"But Yn... I would wait a thousand lifetimes for you. I would wait forever, if that’s what it took, because I want to be with you. I need to be with you. And not just because I miss you, or because I feel lost without you, but because... because, Yn, I want you. In a way I never thought I could want anyone." 

He paused, the weight of his own confession sinking in, and when he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the space between them with the quiet intensity of a truth he could no longer keep buried. 

“So hate me all you want Yn, just please don’t shut me out. I’ve spent so much time thinking I could walk away, that I could let you go, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Not anymore." 

His chest rose and fell with the effort of his words, like he was trying to catch his breath after running a race he didn’t even know he was in. His body trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer force of his emotions breaking through. His hand clenched at his side, his knuckles white, as if holding on to something he might lose if he let go. His eyes were fixed on hers, pleading without words, desperate without asking. 

For the first time in a long time, there was no bravado, no walls between them. Only the quiet truth of a man who had finally realised that what he felt for her wasn’t something he could walk away from. And he was asking—no, begging—for her to see it, to feel it, too.

His grip on her wrist tightened, his fingers trembling. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes, as though the weight of his own guilt might crush him if he held her gaze for too long. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the torrent of emotion that was threatening to spill over, but it was there—raw, uncontained.

Yn exhaled, the weight of his words settling over her like a fog. She wanted to pull away, to shut herself off from him—everything inside her screaming for distance—but she couldn’t. Not with him standing there, broken, stripped bare in front of her. 

She shook her head slowly, the words thick in her throat. "Megumi... I could never hate you." The confession hung in the air between them, fragile and heavy with everything they had left unsaid. 

His eyes snapped back to hers, searching for something—anything—that would give him hope. And in that moment, when the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, a single streetlight flickered above them, casting his face in a pale, golden halo. She froze. In that soft glow, she remembered. She remembered how he had always been beautiful—how she saw him for the first time underneath the lucent lights with his guitar, to the man standing in front of her carrying nothing but a bag of toothpaste and condoms. For a fleeting second, it felt like time had both stopped and rewound, all at once.

A fragile shift passed between them, unspoken but undeniable. His hand slipped from her wrist, fingers brushing lightly against her skin as if afraid to touch her too firmly, as if the very act of reaching for her might undo them both. But then, with no more hesitation, no more words to hold them back, he kissed her.

It wasn’t a kiss of anger, of apology, or even of reconciliation. It was everything—everything they’d held back, buried too deep for too long. The crash of everything unspoken, everything broken, everything still raw between them. It was the kiss they should have shared ages ago, but neither of them had been ready for. It was the space between their words—the silence that had stretched so long, finally, finally given form. 

And in that kiss, there was no more distance. No more fear. No more hesitation. Just the weight of everything they hadn’t let go of, suddenly, impossibly, all at once.

backstage!

• panda sent the ynmegumi gc a text like “plan in motion” so they all celebrated with a movie night (??)

• dunno know WHY they thought it would work

• it did so ig it’s okay…

• they knew their plan worked after ynmegumi turned their location sharing off LMFAOOOO

• shoko was definitely fan service for ree (are you reading this ree? are you?? are you?? did you like it??? do i get a kiss on the cheek?? do i??)

• but her working in the pharmacy isn’t THAT ooc so #cry

• she did not gaf about ynmegumi😭 she just let them have their moment

• brought her flashbacks to stsg gay asses #LetGodBeTrueQuickly🙌🙌

• yn wants to be main character soooo bad omfg girl give it up

• complete parking lot fight slash makeup scene cliché SUE ME

• btw they left the toothpaste out on the gravel for some reason so yn did in fact not get the stupid ass toothpaste

• got the condoms though😛😛😛

• yuta will definitely be questioning as to why they were open

• may or may not have done something not very sft in the car but hey!! you didn’t hear it from me…

a/n: aaaand we’re back!!! how’s everyone doing? good? okay? horrible? all three? same❤️ i hope this sufficed for taking a week off (i’m still in my shackles) this was probably my favourite chapter to write. gonna lie and say it didn’t make me teary eyed towards the end… champagne coast being the recommended song of the week even though it was a gag for the first chapter is a full circle moment. a bit of tzc reeferences sprinkled in the chapter bc i love those girls to death (even though mitch gave up on chapter 2… she didn’t even make it to lesbian digresser… #shitfriendmoment😒) ANYWAYS enjoy and see you guys tmr!! <3

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[aethelwyneleigh27]

A little something of Simon Riley x Bookworm!Reader

A/n: Did you guys miss this format? So do I, hope you guys are doing well because I would not wish my suffering on my worst enemy, for the first time in a while, school makes me want to self exit. These days have been the busiest for me and I doubt that it will get better from here. I'm just exhausted from life but never from you guys <3

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

My CoD Masterlist <3

My Simon "Ghost" Riley Playlist <3

Simon Riley who absolutely adores your reactions when you read, a little bored on a lazy day in bed with him with your reading material in hand. The way you squeal and wiggle your feet made him want to peek onto what you were reading but he didn't need to, the moment you notice him curiously trail on you when you've finished a chapter or a moment you can't help but rant about.

Simon Riley who absolutely adores the way you get passionate about romantic stories, sometimes it motivates him to get a little creative with date ideas although you insist that simple dates are just fine.

Simon Riley who loves sneaking up behind you to peek at what you're reading, to see if you hide it while all flustered or if you bolt so he could playfully chase and pin you down.

Simon Riley who actually picks up an interest in reading because of you, he loved the idea that he's able to be more connected to you, having heated sessions of ranting together, dissing on annoying characters and such.

Simon Riley who was thankful you for introducing him to audiobooks, he was usually busy with some of the repairing and some maintenance of your shared home whenever he comes home after months. It gives him time to catch up while doing something productive so you can have your book review sessions.

Simon Riley who likes it when you look for him in the house after he went to do chores while you immerse yourself in another world. The sound of his name being called over and over by you is the best to him, sometimes waiting for you to say his name a little more before responding.

Simon Riley who builds you your very own bookshelf at your third anniversary, he went through the effort of finding a wood color that he knew you'd like and crafted the intricate bookshelf with a matching ladder that had wheels at the bottom so you could slide down like belle in that scene from beauty and the beast.

Simon Riley who gifts you reading material that you told him you were dying to read, your birthdays and other special occasions, even merch of hyper fixations you have, the same ones you use to decorate the bookshelf he made.

Simon Riley who likes to experiment in the bedroom based on what you've noted and annotated scenes on the spicy romance novels you've kept. He does it in his absolute spare time, sometimes when you aren't home, he likes to see what turns you on, so you'll come home to a surprise.

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ GAME CATERERS X SVT ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 2-1.

Game Caterers x SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 2-1! After failing to eat because of the character quiz, the members of SEVENTEEN are given a chance to win prizes from PD Na’s ‘Super’ Store, they just have to answer more quizzes… and eat lemons (?)

hope this makes you guys smile even a little bit after the announcement of Jeonghan’s official enlistment date 🤍 everything will be fine, he’ll be back in no time!!!

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ game caterers masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the open field where the members of SEVENTEEN were taking their break. Some of them had retreated to the cool shade inside the green room, while others preferred to stretch their legs outside, taking in the fresh air. The quiet hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter filled the atmosphere, a stark contrast to the intense competition and energy of their earlier activities.

Near the basketball court, Mingyu, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Luna, Mingaho, and S.Coups strolled leisurely, the rhythmic bounce of a basketball punctuating their casual banter. Mingyu dribbled the ball skillfully, tossing it back and forth with Jeonghan, while the rest watched with amused smiles, occasionally chiming in with playful remarks.

[SEVENTEEN is taking a break]

Not far away, Vernon, Joshua, and Hoshi lingered near PD Na and his team, who were busy setting up a new challenge. Their curious eyes followed every movement as the staff arranged a variety of items— a table, shelves filled with prizes of all kinds, from snacks and toys to more substantial rewards like food packages. The three members exchanged intrigued glances, trying to guess what the upcoming game might involve.

[Wild SEVENTEEN wanders around]

PD Na, the writers, and the rest of the production crew were focused on the task at hand, setting up the elaborate display. The scene was bustling with activity, yet there was an undercurrent of anticipation in the air, as if everyone, from the staff to the members, knew that something exciting was about to unfold.

[CARAT's enemies are doing something suspicious]

Suddenly, the familiar crackle of a megaphone broke through the quiet hum of the surroundings. From his place behind the makeshift prize table, PD Na’s voice rang out, amplified and clear. “SEVENTEEN, do you hear me?”

“Yes!” Vernon, Hoshi, and Joshua, who were already lingering near the table, replied in unison, their voices carrying across the field.

“The store is open for ten minutes. If you need anything, run and get what you need,” PD Na announced with a mischievous grin, knowing the chaos he was about to unleash.

“Yes!” the trio echoed once more, their excitement palpable.

On the other side of the field, Mingyu, Wonwoo, Minghao, S.Coups, Luna, and Jeonghan, who had been slowly making their way towards the action, exchanged knowing glances. The pace of their steps quickened as they anticipated what was coming next.

“It’s first come, first serve,” PD Na added, the challenge now fully set.

The second those words left his mouth, Hoshi, Vernon, and Joshua, who had been hovering near the front, bolted forward, pushing their way to the prize table with a newfound urgency— Vernon placing first, Hoshi placing second, while Joshua was third.

[Somehow they placed 1st and 2nd and 3rd]

Their sudden sprint caught the attention of Dokyeom, who finally made his appearance on the field, his eyes widening as he realized what was happening before placing himself behind Joshua. Meanwhile, Mingyu remained calm, his tall frame allowing him to maintain a leisurely stride as he continued typing on his phone. The benefits of being the tallest in the group meant that he could easily cover the distance in just a few strides.

Behind him, Luna, ever the playful one, decided to take matters into her own hands. With a burst of energy, she jogged up behind Wonwoo, who was just ahead of her, and leaped onto his back. Wonwoo, more than accustomed to her antics, didn’t miss a beat. He grabbed onto her legs, securing her as he broke into a run, his laughter mixing with hers.

“What?” S.Coups asked, already running.

“First come, first server.” PD Na repeated.

Jeonghan and Minghao, not ones to be left behind, also picked up their pace, running toward the prize table, determined to snag the best items before the others. All the while, Mingyu remained unhurried, his attention split between his phone and the scene unfolding before him. His relaxed demeanor was a stark contrast to the frantic energy of the others before he placed himself behind Minghao.

[11 people arrived in no time]

One by one, the rest of the group started trickling in, each one more eager than the last to see what was happening. Seungkwan, who had just emerged from the green room, immediately sensed the buzz in the air. His eyes widened in excitement and slight panic as he hurriedly jogged over to the gathering crowd. "What's going on? Carbo Buldak? What?" he asked, his voice laced with urgency as he tried to get the inside scoop while still catching up.

[All 14 including Dino are here]

Dino, right on Seungkwan’s heels, placed himself at the very end of the line. As he surveyed the lineup in front of him, he asked, “Am I last?”

“I think so,” Seungkwan confirmed, his tone resigned yet still full of curiosity about what awaited them.

['Super' Store opens]

The members have now lined up in front of PD Na’s table in this order: Vernon, Hoshi, Joshua, Dokyeom, Jun, Wonwoo, Luna, S.Coups, Jeonghan, Minghao, Mingyu, Woozi, Seungkwan, and Dino. The line stretched across the field, each member craning their neck to get a better look at what was in store for them.

In front of them, PD Na stood behind a table labeled ‘Super Store,’ his expression one of playful authority. On the table sat a large container filled with folded papers, clearly the key to whatever missions they would face. Next to it, a bowl filled with slices of lemons gleamed ominously in the sunlight. Beside the table were shelves packed with various prizes, ranging from snacks and food to more luxurious appliances and toys, all meticulously arranged to entice the members.

[Starting with general items from the department store]

“We prepared various stuff. If you don’t need anything, you can go rest. If there’s anything you want, pick one mission and succeed in it,” PD Na explained, his voice carrying over the members’ heads as they all leaned in, listening intently.

The members at the back of the line peeked out from their positions, trying to catch a glimpse of the setup. A collective “Ooooh” of excitement rippled through the group as they began to understand the challenge before them.

“Vernon, what would you like?” PD Na asked, starting with the member at the front of the line.

“The luxury tea set,” Vernon answered, gesturing toward the pristine set displayed on the shelf.

“That’s three stars. That’s the price. If you fail, it’s three pieces of lemon,” PD Na explained, finally revealing the purpose of the lemon slices, which had been a source of mystery and apprehension among the members.

[If they fail the mission, they need to pay]

[Have as many lemons as the # of stars on the item you chose]

As realization dawned, the group reacted with a mix of dread and amusement. “It’s one piece of lemon for each star,” Hoshi explained to those at the back of the line, his voice carrying a slight hint of amusement.

[Items in various prices are available]

“But I can’t eat any lemons,” S.Coups groaned, already imagining the sour torture that might await him.

“I can eat lemons no problem,” Jun chimed in confidently, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I love lemons,” Luna declared from her spot behind Wonwoo. She had finally dismounted from his back, now standing on her own two feet but still surrounded by her best friends. S.Coups, who was directly behind her, casually wrapped his arms around her neck, leaning in close, his face right next to hers.

“That’s right. What makes you like it? I can’t— just thinking about it makes my mouth water,” S.Coups confessed, his voice low and close to Luna’s ear.

“It tastes clean,” Luna deadpanned, her tone serious despite the oddity of her statement.

[What?]

S.Coups burst into laughter, unable to contain himself. “What are you talking about?”

“Like air fresheners… you know… clean?” Luna giggled as she tried to explain, her logic making perfect sense in her head even if it sounded absurd out loud.

S.Coups, still laughing, nudged the side of her face with his forehead, his amusement clear. “Have you tasted air fresheners?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“No. But the smell… it’s clean and lemony,” Luna insisted, bringing her hands up to gesture as she spoke, her eyes wide with sincerity.

[Effects of not eating lunch]

S.Coups just shook his head, still chuckling. “Alright,” he said, letting it go but clearly entertained by the entire exchange.

As the excitement around the ‘Super’ Store grew, PD Na addressed the gathered members with a broad grin, “Is there anything you want?”

“Yes!” they chorused, voices overlapping in eagerness as the members in the back shifted to the sides, trying to get a closer look at the prizes. Their collective enthusiasm was palpable, each member already eyeing what they might want to claim.

“Joshua, what do you want?” PD Na asked, directing his attention to Joshua, who stood near the front of the line.

“I want the Dyson hair dryer,” Joshua responded confidently, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of getting his hands on such a coveted item.

Before Joshua’s words had fully settled, both Luna and Seungkwan exclaimed in unison, “That’s mine!”

“I was eyeing it too,” Hoshi added, his tone a mix of playful rivalry and genuine desire.

PD Na, sensing the brewing competition, chuckled and added fuel to the fire. “You might want the same item. The person who takes it first gets to keep it.”

“It’s first come, first serve,” Dokyeom reiterated, the rules sinking in as Luna pouted, her chances of snagging the hair dryer seemingly dwindling with every second. She knew that with her position in the middle of the line, one of the members at the front would likely snatch it up before she had a chance.

“What do you want?” Minghao asked him, his curiosity piqued by Mingyu’s interest.

“The golf club,” Mingyu said without hesitation, his eyes locking onto the sleek set displayed prominently.

“I’m taking it,” Wonwoo interjected, a hint of challenge in his voice.

“Aigo,” Luna teased Mingyu, giggling to herself. The playful exchange between the members was as much a part of the game as the prizes themselves. She couldn’t resist poking fun at Mingyu, her laughter light and infectious.

Mingyu turned to give her a look— a mix of mock annoyance and amusement that only deepened her giggles. She playfully avoided eye contact, her gaze darting around the field as if suddenly interested in anything but him. The act was enough to draw laughter from Wonwoo, who pointed at Luna, enjoying the little moment as much as S.Coups and Jeonghan, who were both chuckling along.

Woozi, ever the practical one, casually stepped away from his spot in the line and settled into one of the chairs set up to the side. He crossed his arms and leaned back, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observed the lively scene before him. “I should watch first,” he said, his voice calm and unhurried.

PD Na, noticing Woozi’s retreat, called out with a hint of curiosity, “Woozi, are you giving up?”

Woozi shook his head, still relaxed in his seat. “I’m not materialistic. I’m going to watch first,” he explained with a nonchalant wave of his hand, signaling that he was content to sit back and let the others scramble.

“You want to watch first and join later?” PD Na pressed, intrigued by Woozi’s strategy.

“Yes,” Woozi confirmed, giving a slight nod. The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, drew a few chuckles from the staff nearby.

As Woozi declared his lack of materialism, the rest of the members were anything but. They were all busy eyeing the prizes, their heads bent together as they muttered among themselves, assessing their options and plotting their next moves.

[Some members are more materialistic than others]

PD Na turned his attention to Dino, who was at the end of the line, seemingly less intense in his desire for a prize. “Dino, do you want the razors?” PD Na asked a playful edge in his voice.

Dino glanced at the razor set and then back at PD Na, a confident grin spreading across his face. “I think no one’s going to take it. That’s mine for sure,” he said, the certainty in his tone making the others laugh.

“How many blades?” Seungkwan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he moved over to inspect the razors, Dino following close behind. “This is bad. It’s three blades,” Seungkwan reported with mock seriousness, his brow furrowing as he considered the implications.

“Then he won’t take it,” Jeonghan teased from his spot in line, a knowing smile on his face.

“He uses five blades or more,” Seungkwan added the mock concern in his voice causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the group.

“He’ll choose the alcohol instead. Watch.” Luna said, brushing the hair that was flying on her face because of the wind.

“Then I’ll take Chamisul,” Dino decided with a shrug, his choice of alcohol over razors eliciting even more laughter from his members.

[He's firm]

“See?” Luna said.

[And she’s right]

“All he needs is alcohol and a razor,” Wonwoo quipped, shaking his head in amusement at Dino’s simple yet perfectly logical desires.

[Dino's going through adolescence]

As the members continued to debate and joke about their prize choices, Minghao took a deep breath, his eyes sweeping over the clear blue sky. “It’s nice weather. This is what you call a gift,” he commented, his voice reflective as he enjoyed the cool breeze that had settled over the field.

Jeonghan, hearing Minghao’s philosophical take on the situation, scoffed out a laugh, finding the whole moment— filled with both lighthearted banter and genuine appreciation— hilarious and somehow quintessentially very on-brand.

[‘Super' Store's first customer is Vernon]

Vernon, who stood first in line, stared at the array of folded papers on the table in front of him. Among the mostly white slips, a lone pink paper caught his eye. His curiosity piqued, and with a small furrow in his brow, he asked, “There’s only one pink. Is that a special mission?”

PD Na leaned over the table, arms crossed, his face betraying nothing. “You never know,” he said cryptically, “You have to see it for yourself.”

S.Coups, standing further back in the line, craned his neck to peek over Vernon’s shoulder, instantly egging him on. “Vernon, choose pink!” His encouragement sparked a ripple effect, and soon the other members joined in, playfully urging Vernon to take the mysterious pink slip.

Luna, however, scrunched her nose in doubt. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she muttered, her tone wary but still lighthearted.

Vernon’s lips twitched into a curious smile. “I’m curious,” he admitted, his hand hovering above the papers for a moment before decisively picking the pink one. He handed it over to PD Na with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

[He picks the one and only pink mission]

PD Na unfolded the paper slowly, teasing out the suspense, before revealing its contents. He raised an eyebrow and announced, “Vernon’s special item... it's a dud.”

Vernon’s eyes widened in shock as PD Na showed him the slip, confirming his misfortune. The nearest members— Hoshi and Joshua— burst into laughter at his defeat, their teasing louder than the rest.

“That was so obvious,” PD Na teased, shaking his head. “Go to the end of the line.”

Vernon, still processing what had just happened, walked to the back of the line in disbelief. “What did you do?” Jeonghan asked with a chuckle, watching Vernon as he passed.

[He didn't do anything]

“It’s just a dud,” Vernon answered, his voice dazed as he fell into place at the end of the line.

“Told you,” Luna muttered, leaning against Wonwoo and absentmindedly tapping his back like a drum, her smug expression barely contained.

Next up was Hoshi. With a determined gleam in his eye, he confidently selected his mission paper and breezed through the quiz, securing his prize— the coveted Dyson hair dryer. His victory crushed both Luna and Seungkwan’s chances, the two of them deflating in mock despair.

“But that’s mine!” Seungkwan groaned, his eyes following the sleek dryer as it moved out of reach.

Joshua, however, fared just as well as Hoshi. He nailed his mission with ease and chose a box of alcohol as his prize, earning cheers from the others.

[Joshua who also lost the Dyson, purchases a box of Chamisul to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth]

Next up was Dokyeom, whose usual sunny disposition remained intact as he picked his mission. To everyone’s delight, he passed with flying colors and beamed as he reached for his chosen prize— a bunny plushie from ‘Earth Arcade’.

[Next customer is Jun]

As Jun approached the table, he confidently selected his prize— bathroom slippers— without a second thought.

PD Na, looking somewhat surprised, commented, "I mean, this isn’t what I expected at all." He chuckled, realizing that three members had successfully claimed prizes consecutively.

Jun, unbothered, shrugged. "I'm not good at games," he admitted, though his face showed determination.

PD Na unfolded the mission paper and asked, "Do you think you can do this?"

“What?” Jun blinked, unsure of what the task was until PD Na revealed the slip, reading aloud, "Lift the soccer ball more than ten times."

Immediately, the reactions from the members came flooding in. Wonwoo burst out laughing, while Jeonghan exclaimed, "Wow," and Luna, with a laugh of her own, said, "It’s too windy."

And she wasn’t wrong. The wind had picked up considerably, making their hair whip around wildly. Jun’s hoodie flapped in the breeze as S.Coups, standing behind Luna, found himself getting a faceful of her hair. Chuckling, he gently patted her hair down, trying to tame it.

"He can never do it." Woozi declared from his seat, shaking his head.

“You’re guaranteed to get a lemon,” Dokyeom teased, while Woozi added, "You can bet all the prizes."

Jun’s expression shifted into something more comical as he started practicing different movements. “What do I do?” he asked aloud, testing whether to use his knee or foot to lift the ball. His exaggerated movements had the group in stitches.

"He’s really bad with a ball," Dokyeom commented, half-laughing, half-groaning.

[Do all you can to kick it 10 times]

"As long as you don’t use your hands," Mingyu explained, grinning, as Jun gingerly picked up the soccer ball. But instead of following through with the proper kick-up technique, Jun placed the ball on his hoodie and began bouncing it like it was a trampoline.

[What are you doing?]

“That’s not going to work,” PD Na remarked, grinning.

[You got the wrong place]

“This isn’t ‘Going Seventeen’,” Jeonghan chuckled knowing that they had more freedom to cheat in any way they desired in their own show.

[Translation: That's what they do on 'Going Seventeen’]

Wonwoo joined in, laughing. "If this were ‘Going Seventeen’, we would have done that."

“Try it like this. Believe in yourself.” Seungkwan chimed from the side.

“It’s okay even if you can’t do it.” Jeonghan said.

“Fighting!” Luna said.

[The world thinks SEVENTEEN is athletic]

[But that's not true]

Jun finally readied himself, positioning the ball correctly. The members watched closely, all eyes on him as they began counting aloud, “1…”

But before anyone could even get to two, the ball rolled off Jun’s foot, falling to the ground immediately. The group exploded into laughter as Vernon clapped enthusiastically from the back.

[Failed just as expected]

“You’re terrible,” Mingyu teased, unable to hide his grin.

Jun, laughing at his own failure, shrugged and walked over to the other side where PD Na stood waiting with the inevitable lemons. “You like lemons.” S.Coups teased, still amused.

[The 1st customer to eat the lemon]

Jun laughed as he accepted his fate, preparing to eat the lemons as he sat down next to Woozi as the game went on.

[Next is Wonwoo]

Wonwoo stepped up next, his eyes set on the shelf. “I want the golf club,” he said firmly.

[The big spender]

PD Na looked intrigued and gestured towards it. “Why don’t you try it out first?”

Wonwoo smiled but clarified, “It’s not for me. My dad just started playing golf.”

As he made his way toward the golf club and lifted it, Luna let out a soft, “Cute.”

“He’s a good son,” S.Coups added, watching with an approving smile.

[He plans to give it to his father if he succeeds]

Mingyu examined the club from a distance and nodded, “It’s a nice club.”

“My dad started playing,” Wonwoo repeated proudly, clearly thinking of giving it to him.

PD Na then asked, “Anyone else here play golf?”

Immediately, S.Coups and Mingyu raised their hands, while Luna playfully pointed at Jeonghan, who had his hands tucked in his pockets behind her. Wonwoo and Minghao also gestured to the three, highlighting their golfing experience.

PD Na, noticing the others, chuckled and told Wonwoo. “People in the back are glaring at you.”

Mingyu, always quick to tease, grinned, “Have four pieces of lemon.”

Before Wonwoo could respond, Luna shot back at Mingyu, grinning, “Leave him alone. Buy your own golf club.”

Mingyu pouted at her remark, while the others— Jeonghan, S.Coups, Wonwoo, and even PD Na— laughed, amused at Luna’s quick wit.

Wonwoo, having eyed the prizes with a steely determination, finally turned his attention to the folded papers. With a steady hand, he picked one and handed it over to PD Na, who unfurled it with a sly smile.

[Will he get to be a good son?]

"It's the Forehead Quiz," PD Na announced, holding up the slip for everyone to see.

Immediately, Mingyu perked up with curiosity. "Is it new?" he asked.

"It's new," PD Na confirmed, glancing around at the group. "You’ll have to identify your members by just their foreheads. Guess whose it is."

The members let out a collective sound of surprise and amusement. "I might have a chance," S.Coups said, cracking a grin.

Luna, always ready with a playful quip, peeked over Wonwoo’s shoulder, her chin barely resting on him. "It’ll be easy if you get me," she teased, her laughter bubbling up.

[Only female member]

Wonwoo chuckled softly, "That's true."

But Luna wasn't done. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she whispered to him, "I don’t think he’ll give you me, though. That’d be too easy."

Despite her playful demeanor, Wonwoo seemed uncertain. "I'm not great at remembering appearances," he admitted with a shrug.

Beside PD Na, one of the writers began preparing four slices of lemon into a cup, just in case Wonwoo failed. Jeonghan couldn’t resist laughing at the sight. "There are four already," he teased, his voice light with amusement.

"Alright," PD Na interjected, ready to start the game. "Guess who it is among your members."

Wonwoo steeled himself for the challenge as PD Na reached beneath the table to reveal the first picture.

"Don’t tell him." PD Na warned the rest of the members, who were now gathered around Wonwoo, their eyes wide with curiosity.

“No one's going to tell him.” S.Coups declared, a grin pulling at his lips. "We all want the golf club."

As S.Coups said this, Jeonghan silently gestured toward Luna, who was still close to Wonwoo, her proximity implying she could easily help him out. She didn’t care about the golf club, after all.

[Spotted their target]

Before Luna could take advantage of the moment, S.Coups gently wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her toward him with a soft tug. She shot him a look, just about to protest, but Jeonghan was quicker. He covered her mouth with his hand, stifling any attempt she might make to give Wonwoo the answer. Luna turned her head and glared playfully at the notorious game cheater, knowing she'd been defeated this time. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she accepted her fate, her gaze bouncing between Jeonghan and S.Coups.

[Cheaters vs. Cheaters]

PD Na finally held up the photo, which is a close-up of a forehead. "1, 2, 3," he counted down counted down.

[Handsome forehead]

"Mingyu," Wonwoo answered immediately, without a moment of hesitation.

They all went silent for a split second, the shock palpable. Even Mingyu blinked in surprise, “Wow. That’s me.” he said in disbelief.

Luna, still holding Jeonghan’s hand to her mouth, managed to pull it down but continued to grip it, eyes still on the photo. "He’s right," she confirmed, her voice laced with disbelief. She turned toward Wonwoo, impressed. "You got it."

PD Na’s voice rang through the air as he announced, "Correct!" The simple word echoed, followed by a brief pause before the group erupted. Wonwoo, not one for wild celebrations, still raised both his hands in victory, grinning broadly as he said, “Yay!” His subtle but satisfied response only made the situation more amusing, while the rest of the group marveled at his surprising success.

Dokyeom joined in with his usual animated energy, gesturing toward the photo. "That looks like S.Coups," he said, still convinced it wasn't Mingyu’s forehead after all.

Jeonghan, always keen on stirring the pot, quickly backed up Dokyeom’s observation. "I thought that was S.Coups too."

But Luna shook her head, determined as ever. "No. It's totally Mingyu," she argued, standing her ground.

[Seventeen can recognize each other just from seeing the forehead]

As Wonwoo stood there processing his correct guess, he offered an explanation, voice calm but amused. "I thought that was either S.Coups or Mingyu."

"I thought it was S.Coups from the eyebrows," Jeonghan added, his usual sharp tone now laced with a hint of curiosity.

PD Na, still processing the unexpected turn of events, pulled out the full picture for the final reveal. He unfolded it slowly, drawing out the suspense before finally showing the entire face, confirming that it was, indeed, Mingyu.

Wonwoo, still stunned by his successful guess, clapped his hands together. "Wow. How did I get it?" he asked, half-joking but genuinely shocked by his good fortune.

Jeonghan and Luna, standing nearby, simultaneously congratulated him, both saying, “Congratulations!” in unison. Their shared response, so perfectly timed, made them laugh, as it often happened between the two of them.

Without wasting another second, Wonwoo made his way toward the prize table. His eyes lit up with satisfaction as he reached for the golf club— the very item he’d had his sights set on from the start. The moment his hand wrapped around the handle, Mingyu couldn’t resist adding his own brand of commentary.

[Wonwoo wins the golf club]

“He’s handsome. He’s good-looking,” Mingyu said, his tone dripping with playful self-praise as he pointed to the photo of his forehead. His compliments earned a hearty laugh from PD Na, who shook his head at the shamelessness of it all.

As the rest of the members watched Wonwoo stand there with the golf club, Mingyu’s teasing voice cut through the murmurs of amusement. "That's not durable enough for your father," he said, feigning concern but with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

The moment Mingyu said it, Jeonghan and S.Coups immediately jumped in with synchronized agreement. “He can’t play with that,” they both chimed in, gesturing toward Wonwoo and the club. Their antics were met with laughter, their playful gestures signaling for Wonwoo to put the club back.

Luna, standing to the side, shook her head at their constant teasing, chuckling softly. "Ya, you guys are something else," she said, voice light with amusement, a smile tugging at her lips.

[Sympathetic bunny]

In his usual calm and unbothered manner, Wonwoo merely shrugged, offering an innocent response. “I’ll let him decide,” he said, his genuine tone making the group laugh again.

[He really cares about his father]

Wonwoo, seemingly unaffected by all the teasing, made his way toward the winners’ area and took a seat next to Woozi, who glanced at the golf club before offering some advice. "If your father doesn’t like it, sell it to them," Woozi said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he gestured toward Jeonghan, Mingyu, and S.Coups.

A thoughtful expression crossed Wonwoo’s face before he nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he agreed.

[The next customer is bunny no. 1]

It was finally Luna’s turn, and she stepped forward with a determined look, her eyes sweeping over the prizes on display. Almost immediately, her gaze landed on the three boxes of Lego sets displayed in all their intricate glory. Her eyes twinkled with excitement; it was no secret to her members that she had an obsession with Legos, and one particular set caught her eye. She pointed toward the box she wanted, the Disney Castle, its grandeur sparking an obvious desire.

“I want the Lego— the Disney Castle,” Luna declared, her voice brimming with a mix of excitement and longing.

[Another big spender]

From behind S.Coups, Jeonghan leaned forward, an amused grin spreading across his face as he took in her choice. “You don’t have that one yet,” he acknowledged, his teasing tone light but sincere, watching her with a knowing smile.

Luna hummed in confirmation, giving him a small nod as she swirled her hand around the bucket of folded papers. Her fingers danced over each one before she selected a slip, pulling it out with anticipation. Handing it to PD Na, she awaited her fate. PD Na opened the slip, quickly scanning the words before turning to Luna, mock sympathy playing across his features. “Aigoo, can you do this?” he asked, his tone laced with exaggerated concern.

Luna blinked, confusion knitting her brows together. “What?” she asked, slightly wary.

“Times table,” PD Na announced, holding up the paper for everyone to see. The words seemed to hang in the air, and Luna’s jaw dropped slightly as she stared at it, the realization dawning on her.

The members around her exploded in various reactions— some shocked, others cheering her on. S.Coups and Dokyeom laughed while Wonwoo nodded in encouragement. Hoshi could barely contain his amusement, clapping his hands as he rocked back and forth.

“You can do it,” Jeonghan encouraged from his spot, his voice soft but supportive.

Luna raised an eyebrow in disbelief, shaking her head slightly as she deadpanned, “Wow. They got fun little quizzes and games, and once it got to me, it’s math all of a sudden.” Her tone was dry and unimpressed, her sarcastic remark making the entire group laugh heartily, even PD Na couldn’t hide his chuckle.

[She hates math the absolute most]

“You can do it. You’re good at math,” Wonwoo commented from his seat, offering his usual calm reassurance.

PD Na smiled at her before picking up a card from the writer beside him. “Alright. I’ll give you a question, and you must answer within three seconds,” he explained, his voice taking on the serious tone of a quizmaster.

“Are you ready?” he asked, locking eyes with her.

“Yes,” Luna said, taking a deep breath, her face focused as she prepared herself.

PD Na barely glanced at the card before he announced, “17 x 17.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Luna answered confidently, “289,” without hesitation, her voice cutting through the silence like a sharp knife.

A stunned silence followed, everyone too shocked to react immediately. Even PD Na looked momentarily taken aback before finally finding his voice. “Correct!” he exclaimed, raising his hand to applaud her quick thinking.

[She is somehow good at the thing she hates]

The members erupted into cheers, all in amazement at her swift and accurate answer. Their reactions were a mixture of awe and admiration, as compliments echoed through the group.

“She’s smart!” S.Coups exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Wow, she’s amazing,” Hoshi added, his voice filled with respect as he clapped excitedly.

Jeonghan, standing close by, decided to make it official. “Clap!” he announced dramatically, waving his hand toward the others as if commanding them to celebrate her victory properly. The entire group burst into a round of enthusiastic applause, their hands coming together in a loud, appreciative chorus.

Luna’s face lit up with a smile, her confidence shining through as she skipped her way over to the prize table. Her eyes locked on the box of Lego she had chosen earlier— the Disney Castle. She pulled it toward her, wrapping her arms around it in a tight hug, grinning widely as the excitement bubbled up inside her.

[Wins a prize on her first try]

“Yay!” she cheered, her voice sweet and triumphant as she made her way toward the right side of the area, where the winners were sitting and watching with their prizes. The massive box was almost comically large against her petite frame, but Luna didn’t seem to mind one bit. She had gotten exactly what she wanted, and the smile on her face told everyone that this small victory was enough to make her day.

After Luna had made her triumphant skip back to her seat with her coveted Lego set, the focus shifted to the next contestant— S.Coups. His eyes scanned over the prizes, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he sized up the options. After a moment of deliberation, he made his choice, eyes locking onto one of the more understated prizes.

"I’ll take the golf balls," S.Coups declared, pointing at the sleek box on display.

Jeonghan, who was still watching the proceedings closely, commented with an appreciative nod. “I like how they have all our logos on them,” he said, inspecting the design from a distance. His tone had that casual admiration that often came when something caught his eye.

[There are logos from every album]

S.Coups grinned, clearly satisfied with his choice. “I can’t use them anyway,” he admitted with a laugh, glancing over his shoulder at the other members. “I’m going to put them on display at home.”

PD Na, who had been rifling through his question cards, interrupted their banter with a slightly ominous tone. “It’s another 4-star question,” he said, emphasizing the difficulty level, making a few members wince in sympathy.

S.Coups shifted nervously, rubbing his hands together. “I can’t eat lemons, what do I do?” he muttered, half to himself.

Without missing a beat, Mingyu chimed in from his spot in line, “Just eat the lemons,” his teasing tone prompting light laughter from the members.

PD Na unfolded the paper that S.Coups had handed him and, with an enthusiastic flourish, announced, “It’s the Capital Quiz!”

The disbelief on S.Coups’ face was immediate and palpable. “Oh, I don’t know anything,” he said, his voice tinged with panic.

“You’re out,” Mingyu teased, peeking out from his spot with a mischievous grin.

Woozi joined in, shaking his head. “He can never get it,” he said with confidence.

“He can never do it,” Joshua added, his eyes gleaming with playful anticipation.

Dokyeom, laughing from beside Luna, added his own cheeky input, “Enjoy the lemon.”

PD Na, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, turned to the rest of the group. “Do you all know each other's weaknesses?” he asked, clearly already knowing the answer.

“Oh, of course,” they replied in unison, nodding with mock solemnity.

PD Na chuckled, then turned back to S.Coups with a pitying look. “I’ll make it easy for you,” he said, his voice full of exaggerated empathy as he readied the question. “What’s the capital city of Indonesia?”

Without thinking, S.Coups blurted out, “Kuala Lumpur.”

There was a beat of silence before Jeonghan, standing behind him, gently shoved him in disbelief. “Jakarta!” he scolded, his voice brimming with disappointment.

Mingyu shook his head, equally exasperated. “You’ve been there so many times before. We had a concert tour there!” he added his tone a mix of amusement and disappointment.

From where she sat, Luna, her head leaning comfortably on Dokyeom’s shoulder, chimed in, her voice laced with dry amusement, “He gave him an easy one.” Dokyeom, unable to contain his laughter, doubled over, his whole body shaking with mirth.

“Jakartan CARATs are going to cry,” Dokyeom said, shaking his head at S.Coups.

Hoshi, who had been thinking aloud, turned to the others. “Wasn’t Jakarta the last stop for ‘Be The Sun’?” he asked, glancing at Wonwoo, who nodded in confirmation.

“Indonesian CARATs…” Seungkwan trailed off before being cut off by Mingyu.

Mingyu nudged S.Coups in the arm, pointing toward the camera. “You need to apologize.”

With a resigned sigh, S.Coups turned toward the camera, looking genuinely remorseful. “Dear Jakartan CARATs, I’m sorry,” he said with a small wave of his hand.

As he headed over to the seats with his cup of lemons, S.Coups muttered under his breath, “Gosh, I can’t eat any lemon,” already dreading the sourness. He picked one up hesitantly, eyeing it as if it were his mortal enemy, and finally bit into it. The reaction was immediate. His face scrunched up in distaste, and he flinched at the overwhelming sourness. “I’m crying,” he exclaimed, his voice filled with exaggerated misery.

Watching him struggle, Luna’s expression softened. She extended her hand toward him, offering a bit of comfort. “We’ll share it,” she said with a gentle smile.

S.Coups looked at her in disbelief. “Really?” he asked, his voice tinged with hope.

Luna simply nodded, still holding out her hand. With no hesitation, S.Coups handed her one of the lemon slices from his cup. “Give me two,” she said with a grin. “You can have the last two.”

[Bunny no. 1 hates math but loves lemons]

He handed her another slice, chuckling despite himself. “I love you,” he said in mock sincerity, clearly grateful for the gesture.

Luna chuckled as well, easily biting into the lemon without flinching. “Love you too,” she muttered, her attention already drifting back to the game as she continued to watch the rest of the members with amusement.

With S.Coups recovering from the tart aftermath of the lemons, it was Jeonghan’s turn next. He stepped forward, surveying the prizes, his sharp gaze settling on the golf ball set that had been catching the attention of many. "I'll try the golf ball set," he said decisively, pointing toward it.

PD Na looked up with a hint of curiosity. "The golf balls?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," Jeonghan responded with a nod. But as he prepared to commit to his choice, a flicker of longing crossed his face as remembered the Dyson, a prize he had been eyeing earlier. His usual mischievous glint returned as he swept his long hair back with a practiced flick of his hand. "Gosh, Dyson. I'm so jealous," he mused aloud, almost wistfully.

This moment of honesty didn’t escape Mingyu, who, ever the opportunist, saw it as his chance for some playful negotiation. "Can I steal Dyson for eight pieces of lemon?" he asked PD Na with a grin, making the entire group laugh, including PD Na.

[What a brilliant idea]

While everyone enjoyed Mingyu’s antics, his attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. Turning toward the left, Mingyu’s eyes lit up, and with genuine awe in his voice, he commented, "Wow, you two look so cool." His words immediately piqued the curiosity of the others, and one by one, the members shifted their gaze in the same direction. Their playful exclamations of amazement followed as they saw both Luna and Hoshi seated comfortably on the clean, trimmed grass. With their prizes neatly arranged in front of them, the two were a picture of relaxation and quiet contentment, watching the proceedings from a distance.

[Jealous] [The winners are laid back]

"It's awesome," Hoshi chimed in playfully, squinting up at the sun before dramatically lifting his head toward the sky. The way he soaked in the sun made Luna burst out laughing, her head tipping back as she joined in on the silliness.

[Joshua joins them with Chamisul]

Not to be left out of the peaceful scene, Joshua strolled over, the box of alcohol he had won still in hand. Without a word, he placed the box down, using it as an impromptu seat as he settled beside them. Hoshi, embracing the lazy atmosphere, laid his head on top of the Dyson he had proudly won.

Luna, ever playful, followed suit, lying down as well, but in her own style. With a teasing smile, she positioned herself so her head rested on Hoshi's stomach, closing her eyes for added comfort. The group marveled at how serene the three of them looked.

“I’ve never won anything like this before,” Joshua admitted, his tone light but with a hint of amazement as he glanced at the prizes.

“Me too,” Luna and Hoshi echoed in unison, their voices harmonizing as they basked in the feeling of victory.

"Dyson is nice," Hoshi added, his voice laced with satisfaction.

As the playful banter from Hoshi, Luna, and Joshua echoed softly in the background, Jeonghan stood up from his spot, walking confidently toward the table. His eyes scanned the bucket of folded paper slips for a moment, and with a swift motion, he plucked one from the pile.

With the slip in hand, he approached PD Na and handed it over, his casual demeanor only adding to the anticipation. PD Na opened the paper, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face before he made the announcement. "It's Commercial Relay," he declared, raising an eyebrow.

Jeonghan’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Commercial Relay?" he repeated, more to himself, his tone shocked and uncertain.

From the back, Seungkwan, ever the playful commentator, called out with no hesitation, “He can never do it!” His words sent ripples of laughter through the group.

Luna, still lying comfortably across Hoshi’s stomach, her fingers lazily tracing shapes in the air, tilted her head up just slightly and chimed in. “That’s your major, Han,” she reminded him with a small smile.

Seungkwan suddenly turned towards Luna, a look of realization dawning on his face as he pointed at her dramatically. "He majored in commercial production," he exclaimed as if he had just remembered something important, the excitement of his discovery clear in his voice.

PD Na, who had been caught off guard by this little revelation, turned to Jeonghan with a questioning look. "Is that your major?" he asked, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.

Jeonghan, ever the smooth talker, nodded. “I majored in commercial production," he confirmed, though a mischievous smirk soon followed. "But I don’t watch TV, so…” he trailed off with a chuckle, shrugging nonchalantly.

There was a brief pause, the group hanging on PD Na’s next words as he prepared the cue card, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Alright, finish the phrase," PD Na instructed, ready to test Jeonghan’s knowledge. "'Everyone…'"

Without missing a beat, Jeonghan threw his arms up in mock enthusiasm and shouted brightly, “‘Hello!’” His exaggerated confidence and the completely wrong answer sent the entire group into fits of laughter.

From the back, Seungkwan let out an exaggerated groan, “What?” he scolded playfully, his disappointment palpable as the rest of them continued to laugh.

PD Na grinned widely, shaking his head. “Wrong!” he declared with glee, enjoying the light-hearted atmosphere.

S.Coups, still reeling from the effects of eating a lemon was the first to chime in. “Isn’t it ‘Watch out for cold’?” he guessed, his brows furrowed in thought.

Seungkwan, ever the knowledgeable one, shook his head confidently. “It’s ‘Hope you become rich,’” he stated, clearly pleased with himself for knowing the correct answer.

[Only Seungkwan got it]

Jeonghan, still chuckling at his own mistake, looked around at the members, completely unbothered by his blunder. "Is it not ‘Hello’?" he asked with a laugh, repeating his cheerful action one more time for emphasis.

[Jeonghan's too polite] [Take your lemon]

As PD Na handed Jeonghan his inevitable cup of lemons, Luna, still lounging on Hoshi, couldn’t help but comment. “You’re cute,” she said with a small smile, watching him with an affectionate glint in her eye.

In response, Jeonghan sent her a quick, playful wink before moving to sit down beside Woozi and S.Coups, the cup of lemons in hand. Looking over at S.Coups, Jeonghan leaned in and asked with curiosity, “S.Coups, did you finish yours?” referring to the dreaded lemons.

S.Coups, still struggling with the remnants of his own lemon punishment, looked up at Jeonghan and sighed dramatically. “I had one so far,” he admitted, though his expression turned fond as he added, “Jiyeonie ate two of mine.”

[He had 1 out of 4]

The atmosphere on the trimmed grass was light and relaxed as Luna, Joshua, and Hoshi continued to bask in their small victories. They had comfortably claimed a corner, their winnings neatly arranged in front of them, the warm sunlight gently enveloping them. A staff member, watching their contentment, approached the group and encouraged them, “You should try again.”

Joshua, ever the considerate one, glanced back at the line where several members stood empty-handed and replied, “A lot of them still have nothing.”

Jeonghan, having joined the others, turned to PD Na, his brow furrowed. "Do I have to finish this before I try again?" he asked, holding up his cup of lemons.

PD Na nodded with a grin. “If you finish it, you can try again,” he confirmed, clearly enjoying the challenge.

Luna, who had been casually watching from the grass, perked up. “Can we try again?” she asked one of the nearby staff members, and after a nod of approval, she smiled.

“Then I should try again,” Joshua said, stretching as he stood up. He glanced at Luna and Hoshi, who were still seated comfortably. “Do you want to go for it again?”

Without a word, both Luna and Hoshi stood in unison, a silent agreement passing between them as they walked back to the line, joining the other members still waiting their turn.

[They never said no]

Jeonghan, watching them, caught Hoshi’s eye. “Hoshi,” he called, holding up his cup, “can you help me with one?” He was referring to his lemons, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Sure,” Hoshi gladly accepted, popping one of the sour fruits into his mouth with ease.

[Sharing the penalty]

With Hoshi’s help, Jeonghan managed to finish his punishment. Relieved, he dusted off his hands and quickly moved to join the back of the line, positioning himself behind Luna as they waited for another chance to win a prize. The breeze carried with it a sense of ease, the mood growing softer with the afternoon sun.

Without a word, Jeonghan slowly reached out, his arms wrapping around Luna’s waist from behind, the soft material of his cardigan brushing against her. Instinctively, Luna leaned back into him, her hands rising to gently caress the fluffy sleeves of his sweater. The fabric felt comforting beneath her fingertips as she absentmindedly stroked the texture.

Jeonghan, playfully ducking his head down, nestled his face into the crook of her neck. His breath tickled her skin, causing Luna to smile faintly, her hand lifting to rake gently through his long, flowing hair. Their connection, quiet and intimate, went unnoticed by most — but for the cameras, it was a different story.

To the casual observer, and likely the cameras capturing the moment, it appeared to be nothing more than a sweet back hug shared between friends. Their long hair, tousled by the wind, cascaded around them, providing a veil of privacy. But hidden beneath that curtain of hair, Jeonghan was stealing quiet kisses on the sensitive skin of Luna’s neck, his lips brushing softly against her in a secret exchange only the two were aware of. The world around them seemed to pause, the rest of the members laughing and chatting while they remained in their quiet little world, waiting patiently for their turn again in the game, unaware of the silent intensity brewing between them.

[Next is Mingyu]

As the next round started, it was finally Mingyu’s turn to face the challenge. His face lit up with anticipation as PD Na drew out his mission slip and announced, “It’s a quiz on common sense.” Immediately, a wave of playful mockery erupted from the other members.

“He’s out! Wrong!” Seungkwan teased from behind, causing the others to chuckle.

“He’s out!” S.Coups added in mock seriousness, shaking his head as if Mingyu had already failed before the question had even been asked.

PD Na, recalling a past ‘HYBE’ special where Mingyu had been notoriously unlucky, laughed at the thought. “Yes, that’s right,” Seungkwan confirmed with a mischievous grin.

Mingyu nodded knowingly. “I went around four times in front of twenty to thirty ‘HYBE’ artists.”

[Taking his lemon in advance]

Seeing the mounting pressure, PD Na decided to give him a bit of a break. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one. It’s a sample question,” he said, his tone lightening. The other members grew quiet as they waited for the question. “Name three symbols of ‘HYBE’.”

Mingyu answered confidently, “BTS, SEVENTEEN…” but before he could finish, PD Na interrupted.

“Wrong!” PD Na declared, cutting through Mingyu’s sentence.

Mingyu, accepting his fate with grace, simply shrugged and moved to the back of the line, his cup of lemons clutched in one hand.

“You should’ve said Bang Sihyuk and Han Sungsu,” Woozi commented with a knowing look, referring to the key figures who were instrumental in the creation of ‘HYBE’.

Jeonghan, now thoroughly confused, leaned over as Mingyu reached the back. “Why is it wrong?” he asked with a slight frown.

Seungkwan, ever the expert in clarifications, stepped in. “He probably meant what ‘HYBE’ stands for,” he said, watching Mingyu’s expression shift from understanding to exasperation.

Jeonghan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is there a meaning?” he asked, shocked at the thought.

Mingyu scratched the back of his head and tried to remember. “It’s like… encounter, exchange, and music or something.”

S.Coups chimed in, sounding uncertain. “The exchange of music or something.”

The group fell silent for a moment, digesting the idea, when Hoshi, curious as ever, turned to Jeonghan. “What are three symbols of ‘HYBE’?”

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan replied, his brow furrowed in thought as he shook his head.

Luna, who had been listening quietly from beside Jeonghan, added her own guess, “Isn’t it ‘We believe in music’ or something?”

PD Na, smiling at the members’ collective confusion, finally revealed the correct answer. “It’s connection, expansion, and relationships,” he said with authority.

A wave of realization swept over the group, as they all nodded, murmuring in agreement. “Ahhh…” the members said, drawing out their reaction in unison as they finally understood.

“Keep that in mind,” PD Na advised them with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement at their struggle.

Seungkwan, ever the comedian, turned to Mingyu with a playful grin. “We connected, expanded, and established a relationship,” he quipped, making the others burst into laughter as Mingyu shook his head, trying to hold back a smile.

[It's okay. Producer Na doesn't know the symbol of Full moon]

It was Seungkwan's turn, and he stepped up with the usual dramatic flair. His sharp eyes darted toward the prizes, particularly the $100 Shinsegae gift certificate, still unclaimed by anyone. He pointed at it with conviction, voice brimming with incredulity. “I don’t get why no one’s taking the $100 Shinsegae gift certificate. That’s the real deal.”

PD Na, who was already chuckling at Seungkwan’s enthusiasm, couldn't help but agree. “Yes, that’s the good stuff,” he said, smiling widely at Seungkwan's sensible yet overlooked choice.

Seungkwan, confident in his choice of prize, reached for the next slip of paper and handed it over to PD Na.

“A dud,” Jeonghan teased from the back, his arms still wrapped comfortably around Luna, who giggled as she swayed side to side with him. The relaxed and affectionate sway of their bodies mirrored the playful mood around them.

“A dud!” Dokyeom joined in, laughing as well, causing Seungkwan to shake his head, trying to stave off their playful taunts.

“No way, stop lying,” Seungkwan said, disbelief written across his face. His voice carried a mix of denial and slight nervousness, the anticipation of his result catching up with him.

PD Na smiled and flipped the paper over for Seungkwan to see, announcing, “It’s the sample bar exam question.”

Luna, always quick to hear, burst into laughter, her voice ringing clearly across the group. “It might as well be a dud!” she quipped, her words sending a ripple of laughter through the members.

Seungkwan stared at the paper in disbelief, still processing the difficulty of his challenge. Jeonghan, leaning more into Luna’s back, shook his head sympathetically. “That’s so hard,” he muttered, genuinely surprised.

“I got the easy one,” Hoshi chimed in with a grin, proud of his earlier luck.

“You have good luck, you get easy questions,” Luna nodded in agreement, her eyes still twinkling with amusement at Seungkwan’s misfortune.

“The lemons are ready,” Jun added, his comment aimed at reminding Seungkwan of the inevitable punishment awaiting him.

“Just eat it,” Woozi said dryly, gesturing toward the waiting cup of lemons, clearly enjoying the banter.

Accepting his fate, Seungkwan picked up the lemons and gave in with a sigh. “I’ll go as I eat it,” he said, already popping the first piece into his mouth as he braced himself for the inevitable failure. His exaggerated grimace as the sourness hit made the others laugh even harder.

PD Na, holding back his own laughter, decided to move on with the question. “Try listening,” he instructed, as he began reading aloud from the card. “The purpose of this law is to protect the stability of housing. It applies to the lease of all or part of residential buildings.”

S.Coups, trying to be helpful, added, “The answer is right there,” though his tone carried a note of userstanding.

PD Na continued, “It is also applied when the house on lease is used for a purpose other than residence. What is the name of this law? It’s eight syllables. The answer was in the question.”

Seungkwan, caught off guard by the complexity of the question, groaned. “The national lease… Geez,” he managed to say before trailing off in defeat. He slumped to the back of the line, his groan prompting another round of laughter from the members.

[Walking away]

“Wrong,” PD Na said, his tone light and teasing.

Mingyu, ever curious, asked, “What’s the answer?”

“Housing Lease Protection Act,” PD Na revealed, the answer clearly difficult for everyone.

[Next is Dino]

It was Dino’s turn, and he stepped up, eyes scanning the prize table for a moment before settling on what he wanted. “I’ll go for the razor,” he announced confidently, pointing at the shiny grooming kit on display.

[The perfect prize for him]

His choice earned a hearty laugh from PD Na, clearly amused by the practicality. “A good choice,” PD Na said, still smiling.

“I’m going to accept it,” Dino said with determination as PD Na opened the slip of paper he had chosen.

“It’s Word Relay,” PD Na announced, explaining the task to Dino. To help warm him up, he gave a sample question. “Name five dishes in a Chinese restaurant in five seconds.”

Dino barely hesitated before rattling off his list. “Black bean sauce noodles, spicy seafood noodles, sweet and sour pork, warm noodles, black bean sauce rice.”

“That's how you play,” PD Na said, impressed by how quickly Dino responded.

[That's what he should to do win the prize]

Seungkwan, however, had a nostalgic glint in his eye. “Your grandma used to run a Chinese restaurant,” he said.

Dino smiled, preparing himself for the challenge ahead. “Yeah, I lived in my grandma’s Chinese restaurant for eight years,” he confirmed, the pride in his voice evident.

PD Na moved things forward. “Alright, here we go. Name five celebrities with a four-syllable stage name.”

Dino's expression turned serious as he focused, searching his mind for answers. “S.Coups…” he started, but as he tried to think of the next name, his words trailed off.

From behind him, Jeonghan tried to help, shouting, “Huening Kai,” as a suggestion. Luna quickly followed with another, “Kang Daniel,” But Dino, too locked in his thoughts, didn’t register any of the assistance.

Time ran out, and PD Na’s voice came in swiftly. “Wrong!” he declared with a playful grin as the buzzer sounded. Dino let out a groan of defeat as he realized how close he had come.

“Oh, I’m good at this,” Seungkwan whined from the side, clearly disappointed he hadn’t gotten a shot at the challenge.

PD Na, trying to console Dino, said, “You know a lot of colleagues,” referring to the many names that Dino could have potentially listed. Still accepting his fate, Dino was handed his cup of lemons, and without hesitation, he began eating them, his face scrunching up in reaction to the sourness.

Wonwoo stepped up again, this time still holding the golf club he had won earlier, determined to secure another prize. He turned towards the staff, his calm voice cutting through the playful chatter. “I’ll try the golf ball set for my father.”

Laughter erupted from the other members. Mingyu, standing at the back, groaned in mock irritation. “Why are you muddying the water?”

“Ya! Leave him alone,” Luna chuckled as she scolded him gently, her eyes glinting with amusement.

“You’re such a good son,” Hoshi chimed in.

Mingyu, still grumbling, rolled his eyes. “You’re muddying the water. I bet your father has golf balls already.”

“No, he just started recently,” Wonwoo said, his expression earnest, despite the teasing around him.

“He wants to get it for his dad. Don’t be so mean,” Dino added, scolding Mingyu with a mouthful of lemons, which sent another wave of laughter through the group.

[The youngest points out the brutal fact]

“He’s right,” Minghao whispered to Mingyu, who looked utterly defeated by now.

Jeonghan, always ready to pile on, gave Mingyu a teasing smile. “Don’t be so materialistic.”

Luna giggled as she pointed at Mingyu’s pout, clearly entertained by the teasing.

[His shoulders are getting smaller]

Shaking his head with a small smile, Wonwoo picked up a paper and handed it to PD Na. The director glanced at the paper, grinning. “If you take the golf balls too, you’ll be a real good son.”

“Right! A real good son,” Dokyeom agreed enthusiastically from the back, which sent everyone laughing again.

PD Na cleared his throat and read aloud. “Commercial Relay.”

Seungkwan groaned dramatically. “Oh, that’s what I wanted! How did I get the bar exam? That’s ridiculous! I can’t believe I picked the bar exam.”

“I’m not good at this,” Wonwoo said quietly, already anticipating the difficulty ahead.

“You'll get it. I’m not going easy on you; you picked this yourself,” PD Na warned playfully.

“It’s easy,” Woozi commented dryly, ever the pragmatist.

With that, PD Na gave the line Wonwoo needed to complete. “‘The soup is...’”

“‘Awesome,’” Wonwoo answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“You got it!” PD Na confirmed, his voice filled with surprise and approval as the members collectively gasped and exclaimed in amazement.

[He becomes a good son]

Wonwoo, never one to be overly dramatic, raised his arms in mock victory. “Dad, enjoy golf,” he said, smiling softly.

[He wins the prize and the good son title]

“He’s so lucky,” Minghao added, shaking his head in disbelief.

“He got an easy one,” Luna observed as she fidgeted with her hair, trying to pull a strand off her lips that had stuck to her lip gloss. Jeonghan, ever-attentive, nodded and hummed, carefully reaching over to move the errant strand away for her. Luna smiled in appreciation as they both returned their attention to the game.

“Right? Mine was hard,” Jeonghan pouted slightly, playing along.

PD Na, not missing a beat, pointed toward Mingyu and commented, “Petty people in the back tried to stop him from being a good son.”

Mingyu, playing along, looked around dramatically, pretending not to understand who the comment was directed toward, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

[In the back?]

It was Dokyeom’s turn, and he stepped up confidently, ready to take his shot at winning another prize. The excitement among the group built up again as he chose a paper from the pile and handed it over to PD Na. The atmosphere felt charged with anticipation, everyone curious to see what challenges lay ahead.

PD Na unfolded the slip of paper, glanced at it with a slight smile, and revealed, “Neologism Quiz.”

“He’s good at neologisms,” Wonwoo commented from the side, arms crossed as if he were making a serious observation.

Mingyu, always curious, leaned forward. “Dokyeom, what did you pick for the prize?”

Dokyeom grinned, “The bulk snacks.”

[He carefully chose the 1-star prize]

Mingyu shook his head with a chuckle. “That’s so like you.”

PD Na asked with a teasing smile, “You know what a neologism is, right?”

S.Coups jumped in, throwing out an example with a mischievous smile, “‘OYONW.’”

“What’s that?” Woozi asked, his brow furrowing.

Without missing a beat, Wonwoo replied, “‘On your own, neatly and witty.’”

[Here's the question]

“Here’s your question. What does ‘QCA’ mean?” PD Na asked.

“‘QCA’?” Dokyeom repeated, his expression immediately showing confusion. His eyes darted from one member to another as if hoping someone would throw out a clue.

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down.

Dokyeom stood there, his brow furrowed, but it was clear from his silence that he had no idea.

“Think about it,” PD Na encouraged him with a grin.

PD Na repeated his countdown, “1, 2, 3.”

Dokyeom’s lips quirked as he repeated again, “‘QCA’?” Still stumped. “‘Quick leave,’” he guessed with a laugh, clearly just throwing something out there.

PD Na, amused by the attempt, gestured toward the exit, playfully signaling Dokyeom to leave since his answer was wrong.

[Yes, leave]

The group exploded into laughter as Dokyeom, ever the entertainer, dramatically threw his arms up and strutted off, accepting his defeat with a massive smile.

[Bye, DK] [Going home after work is fun]

“Leave quickly with your lemon,” PD Na said, barely containing his laughter.

Dokyeom turned back to grab his cup of lemons, joining in on the joke, his smile never fading. As he started eating, PD Na revealed the correct answer, “‘Quick change in attitude’.”

A chorus of understanding went through the group as they all went, “Ahhh,” the moment of clarity sinking in.

It was Joshua’s turn now, stepping up confidently to the table as the members around him buzzed with commentary. He had already won one prize earlier but clearly had his eyes set on another.

“I’ll go for the Korean beef combo,” Joshua told PD Na with a calm, collected voice as if picking the juiciest prize out of a grocery store aisle.

[Since I have soju, let me get Korean beef]

“I didn’t know there was Korean beef,” Hoshi said, eyes widening in surprise, causing a ripple of laughter to spread among the members.

PD Na opened the slip Joshua had chosen and smiled. “SEVENTEEN Quiz.”

“That’s harder,” Mingyu immediately commented from his place in the line.

Jeonghan threw in his two cents, “I can never answer anything like this.”

“He’ll never get it. He’s guaranteed to miss it,” Woozi added, his sharp tone laced with a playful smirk, which made Wonwoo chuckle beside him.

Seungkwan, always vocal, let out a soft whine. “That’s exactly what I need!”

PD Na turned to Joshua with a small grin. “You need to answer this.”

Joshua, ever the gentleman, nodded with assurance. “Of course.”

[If he gets it wrong,things will get awkward with SEVENTEEN]

“A lot of CARATs are watching this. I believe SEVENTEEN has a very strong bond,” PD Na remarked, the atmosphere thickening with both anticipation and tension.

“Eyy, PD-nim, stop pressuring Shua!” Luna’s voice suddenly piped up from the back. Her petite frame peeked out from behind the tall figures of the other members in front of her, her head popping out to the side, making PD Na and the other members laugh at her playful intrusion.

[Peekaboo]

“I guess it’s a really hard question,” Vernon chuckled, shaking his head.

“To bring him down all at once,” Mingyu joked with a grin.

“No, I think two-thirds of you can get it. So, if you can’t answer it, you’ll feel so bad,” PD Na teased, sparking more laughter from the members.

Joshua, his smile unwavering, waited patiently as PD Na finally revealed the question.

“DK, who just left quickly, placed 2nd in ‘King of Mask Singer’. What was the name of DK’s mask?” PD Na asked.

“Oh, that’s hard,” Jun gasped, his eyes going wide.

“He wouldn’t know,” Minghao added, shaking his head with a slight laugh.

Luna and Jeonghan spoke up at the same time, confidently saying in unison, “That’s easy.”

[There are people who know]

“‘Baby Goblin’?” Joshua said, squinting slightly as he guessed, unsure of his answer.

“What?” PD Na asked, a little thrown off by the answer.

“‘Goblin’?” Joshua repeated, as if trying to double-check if he was close.

“Oh, he got it!” Dokyeom gasped from the side, surprised but excited by Joshua’s guess.

[Did he really get it?] [The production crew is stirred]

Luna, ever the helpful soul, leaned forward slightly, “There’s more before that, Shua.”

Joshua raised his eyebrows at her, turning slightly in her direction as she nodded encouragingly, urging him to keep going.

“That’s right, there’s more,” Seungkwan added, jumping on board to help.

“There are six more syllables before ‘Baby Goblin’,” PD Na confirmed, heightening the pressure.

“Six syllables?” Joshua asked, now clearly confused, as the rest of the members also expressed their surprise and confusion.

PD Na began the countdown again. “Here we go. 1,2,3.”

Joshua, with no real hope left, blurted out, “‘Fly Black Tea Baby Goblin’. Oh, I don’t know,” throwing his hands up in defeat as he reached for his cup of lemons, resigned to his fate.

“Isn’t it ‘Give Me Gold’?” Seungkwan asked, glancing around as if testing his own memory.

“‘Give Me Gold Baby Goblin’,” PD Na confirmed, revealing the correct answer.

“I still got ‘Baby Goblin,’” Joshua said with a sheepish smile, clearly proud of the small part he did remember.

“You got that part,” Dokyeom agreed, nodding his head in appreciation of Joshua’s effort.

“Did someone tell him? Did he get it on his own?” Seungkwan asked, looking suspiciously between the members.

“He answered it on his own,” Dokyeom confirmed.

“Thank you, Joshua,” Dokyeom said sincerely, grateful that Joshua had at least remembered part of his ‘King of Mask Singer’ persona.

PD Na smiled and turned to the writers. “Remove two lemons. I could count that as an answer.”

[2 lemons are removing for answering half]

“No,” Jeonghan quickly interjected, shaking his hand at PD Na with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Hang on.” Mingyu moved forward with a mischievous smile, peering into Joshua’s cup. “Two more,” he declared, deliberately adding back the two lemons that had just been removed.

[Their friendship is so durable] [SEVENTEEN takes care of each other so much]

PD Na stared at Mingyu in surprise as one of the writers laughed in the background at Mingyu’s antics.

“Right. Have more. It’s still a game. We should play fair,” Jeonghan said, backing up Mingyu with a nod, making Luna scoff out a laugh at their pettiness.

“You guys are something else,” Luna muttered with amusement, only to be poked in the waist by Jeonghan, who was still holding onto her from behind.

“I got ‘Baby Goblin’ to be honest,” Joshua said, trying to plead his case one last time.

“I think that counts, but your colleagues…” PD Na trailed off, gesturing toward the other members who were adamant about their lemon rule.

“Ya, don’t be obnoxious. Hurry up and leave,” Jeonghan said, slowly pushing Joshua toward the chairs, urging him to start eating his lemons as the rest of the members began to agree with the playful shove.

[Starting with the general leader everyone agrees very fast]

Luna, still laughing, couldn’t get over how competitive and petty they were all being.

“I still appreciate that you tried,” Joshua told PD Na before he sat down, defeated but still in good spirits, Luna watched him carefully, her smile softening into something a little more sympathetic.

“Josh,” she called softly, her English accent slipping out naturally as he called out his name.

Joshua turned to her, his eyes meeting hers with curiosity. Luna, still smiling, nodded toward him and reached out her hand, subtly gesturing for him to hand over a lemon. She then held up two fingers, signaling that she wanted two lemons, clearly offering to halve his punishment with him.

Joshua chuckled, grateful for her support, and passed her two lemons with a quiet “Thank you.”

[The lemon-eating bunny healper]

Before Luna could even take a bite, Mingyu reached over, attempting to snatch the lemons back out of her hand. “Let him eat all of it,” he teased, a playful smirk spreading across his face.

Luna, quick on her feet, turned her body, positioning herself so that she was now facing Jeonghan’s chest, who was still holding her. She hid the lemons between them and shot Mingyu a defiant look. “Why? What’s it to you if I help him? I like lemons,” she said confidently, popping one of the lemon slices into her mouth without hesitation.

Mingyu, seeing that he had lost, pouted in defeat while Jeonghan watched the whole scene unfold, clearly amused by Luna’s antics and Mingyu’s failed attempt to intervene.

[The next customer is holding a Dyson]

Hoshi stood at the front, cradling his newly won Dyson box with pride. His grin was wide as he examined the selection of prizes again, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Despite already having a fantastic win under his belt, Hoshi was not yet satisfied.

“I’ll go for something big. The Korean beef combo,” he declared confidently, handing PD Na his chosen slip of paper.

[Taking a big risk again]

As PD Na opened the paper, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Rock, paper, scissors,” he read aloud, barely holding back a chuckle.

[Producer Na isn't good at rock-paper-scissors]

“Your luck is insane today,” Luna remarked from behind him, her voice filled with both admiration and disbelief.

[Hoshi is lucky]

“You have a high chance of winning,” Jeonghan added with a knowing grin.

Hoshi, unable to contain his excitement, started jumping up and down, fists clenched in victory even before the game had started. “Let’s go!” he shouted, pumping himself up.

“I’m not good at rock-paper-scissors,” PD Na confessed with a slight chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck in faux nervousness.

[Mr. Game isn't confident]

PD Na, standing with a hand on his hip, took a deep breath. “Alright… Rock, paper, scissors!”

Hoshi, still buzzing with excitement, threw out his hand with scissors. PD Na, true to his earlier statement, fumbled with his decision and threw paper. A chorus of cheers exploded from SEVENTEEN, the members clapping and shouting with excitement as they rushed toward Hoshi to congratulate him. His scissors had cut right through PD Na’s paper, securing his victory.

“There’s a flow!” Dokyeom announced with pride, as if he’d coached Hoshi through the whole thing.

S.Coups, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, called out, “Let’s take everything.”

“Take only the expensive stuff,” Dino added with a laugh as they all watched Hoshi eagerly walk over to grab the prized box of Korean beef.

As Hoshi held the box up like a trophy, Mingyu’s voice cut through the celebrations. “Isn’t it just one bag? Does he get to take everything?” he asked, a teasing grin creeping onto his face.

Jeonghan, ever the troublemaker, leaned in toward PD Na and whispered conspiratorially, “Let’s say it’s one bag per game.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, not wanting Hoshi to make off with the entire prize. He glanced at Luna, who elbowed him playfully, shaking her head in disagreement. “One bag per game,” Jeonghan repeated, trying to sound serious as he covered his smile.

Mingyu, fully backing Jeonghan’s plan, nodded in agreement. “Come on, Yung Suk. One bag at a time. It’s $50 per bag!” he said, emphasizing the value with a laugh.

PD Na, sensing the tension and the joke behind it, decided to address the group. “SEVENTEEN goes by the majority. Will it be one bag at a time or the whole thing?” He looked around, letting the group decide.

“Isn’t it one bag at a time?” Seungkwan chimed in, siding with Jeonghan and Mingyu.

Jeonghan, always the smooth talker, clapped a hand on Hoshi’s shoulder. “You can only take one bag,” he said with a grin like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

Hoshi, his earlier victory still fresh, blinked in confusion. “I can only take one?”

Seungkwan, already at his side, began inspecting each bag as if making sure there wasn’t a trick. “You can only take one of them,” he confirmed.

[This is SEVENTEEN's teamwork]

S.Coups stepped forward, adding to the chaos. “Yeah, you can only take one of them. Which part do you want?” he asked, gesturing toward the different cuts of meat.

“What is wrong with you guys?” Joshua groaned, laughing as the pettiness of the situation finally dawned on him.

Hoshi, finally catching on to the teasing, held his ground. “It’s clearly a combo,” he argued, unwilling to back down after his win.

“No, you can only take one of them,” S.Coups pointed out again, his expression deadpan as if this was a serious rule.

“You look so petty,” Woozi remarked from the sidelines, shaking his head as the group burst into laughter.

Hoshi, feeling defeated but still in good spirits, sighed dramatically. “Fine, since got the Dyson,” he said, pretending to surrender as he started to return the Korean beef.

Before he could fully commit to giving it up, both Jeonghan and Vernon jumped in, their attitudes flipping in an instant. “No, take them all!” they said almost in unison, surprising Hoshi with their sudden change of heart.

Hoshi froze mid-step, his eyes wide as he turned back to look at them. “What?”

“S.Coups, don’t be so cheap and divide that by parts,” Jeonghan scolded, acting as though the entire argument hadn’t been his idea in the first place.

“That was you!” Joshua pointed out, unable to hold back his laughter.

[That was you 7 seconds ago]

Jeonghan, realizing he had been caught, laughed along with the others. “Take them all,” he insisted as if he was doing Hoshi a favor now.

PD Na, watching the whole scene unfold with amusement, couldn’t help but add, “Jeonghan gets to look nice.”

“Hoshi must be flustered,” Jeongan said.

[Bunny no. 1 is next once again]

Luna stood at the front again, having already won her first prize earlier, feeling the excitement bubbling within her. Her gaze was fixated on the two remaining Lego sets, her eyes drifting over the vibrant box of the Harry Potter Lego. Before she could make her decision, a familiar voice murmured close to her ear, just loud enough for only her to hear.

"Ferrari Lego, please." Jeonghan’s words came as a soft suggestion, and Luna felt his presence right next to her, his voice carrying a weight she couldn’t resist.

Without hesitation, Luna turned to PD Na, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll go for the Ferrari Lego,” she said confidently, knowing Jeonghan wanted it and was more than willing to win it for him.

[Bunny no. 1 cannot resist bunny no. 2]

Jeonghan, satisfied with her choice, tapped her waist gently three times— a silent yet intimate gesture. Luna’s smile grew wider; she knew what those three taps meant, only the two of them did. The gesture was subtle enough not to draw attention, but to her, it spoke volumes.

“You’re a big spender as well,” PD Na remarked as Luna confidently chose a slip of paper, handing it to him with a grin.

[Big spenders have all won]

He opened the paper and read it out loud, “Word relay.”

Luna nodded, focusing. “Okay,” she said, her expression determined as she prepared herself for whatever challenge lay ahead.

“Name five countries that start with the letter ‘M’ in five seconds,” PD Na announced, watching her closely.

Without missing a beat, Luna lifted her hand to count on her fingers. “Mexico, Monaco, Malaysia, Malta, Moldova,” she rattled off quickly, the words rolling effortlessly off her tongue.

[Big spenders tend to win twice in a row]

“You got it!” PD Na confirmed, sounding impressed as the rest of the members fell silent, staring at her in awe.

Jeonghan’s hand shot up for a high-five, which Luna enthusiastically met. “Good job!” he praised, his smile wide and genuine.

“Yay!” Luna exclaimed as she skipped forward, her excitement clear as she grabbed the Ferrari Lego set. She hugged the box to her chest, the satisfaction of her win radiating through her, then returned to pick up the Disney Lego set she had won earlier.

A chorus of amazement filled the room, the members voicing their disbelief at how quickly and smoothly she had won. “Wow!” “How did she know all that?” “Why is she so fast?”

“You see how Yoon Jeonghan is not complaining like earlier,” Hoshi pointed out with a knowing look, gesturing toward Jeonghan, who stood smugly.

[Tiger Hoshi noticed something]

This shifted everyone’s attention to Jeonghan, who simply smirked. “It’s because he knows he’s getting that Lego set later,” Hoshi added, his teasing tone making the group erupt into laughter.

“You’re right!” Mingyu agreed, pointing at Hoshi as if to back up the claim.

“I thought she was gonna pick the Harry Potter Lego,” Dokyeom added, surprised at Luna’s decision.

“Since when were you interested in cars?” Woozi asked Luna with a raised brow, making her laugh even harder.

[They know each other so well]

Before Luna could answer, Mingyu held up his hands, motioning for everyone to listen. “Wait, did you hear what he said to Jiyeonie earlier before she chose?” Mingyu asked, pointing at both Jeonghan and Luna, his mischievous grin betraying the secret.

“What? What?” S.Coups leaned in, eager to hear.

“‘Ferrari Lego, please’,” Mingyu mimicked Jeonghan’s earlier whisper, earning a round of laughter from everyone as they playfully scolded the two.

“Ya! Bae Jiyeon! Yoon Jeonghan!” Seungkwan called out, pretending to scold Luna, though his grin gave him away.

“Those two are really shameless,” S.Coups said.

[Bunnies got caught]

Luna, still laughing, didn’t deny anything, while Jeonghan stood next in line, smirking at the whole situation, his confidence unwavering.

[Not denying]

“Why are you even in line? You won already,” Mingyu teased, playfully pushing Jeonghan toward Luna’s prize knowing it was already his.

Jeonghan gave Mingyu a lazy smirk, clearly amused by the teasing. His long hair fell gracefully over his face as he casually combed it back with one hand, exuding a calm confidence. "What about it?" he retorted, his voice smooth and laid-back, "What's it to you?"

The subtle cockiness in his tone, paired with his effortless gesture, made the rest of the members chuckle, knowing all too well that this was classic Jeonghan — cool, unbothered, and always one step ahead when it came to witty comebacks.

Vernon stood in front of the table, tapping his fingers lightly on its surface as he glanced over at the remaining prizes. "I'll go for the tea set," he announced, his tone casual, as he handed PD Na the slip of paper he had chosen.

"The tea set?" PD Na repeated, gesturing to Minghao. "The8 just checked it."

"I didn't know there was tea," Minghao remarked, looking at the set with slight curiosity.

Vernon smiled. "I was eyeing it from the start."

"This isn’t easy," PD Na said, as he read what was written on the slip.

Vernon raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to glance at the note. "Look at the pictures and arrange them by order," he read aloud, shrugging. "How can that be hard?"

Without a word, PD Na reached behind him and pulled out a stack of papers, careful to keep them hidden from Vernon's view. "You should be able to get it," he said with a grin that hinted at the challenge ahead.

[Genre: Arrange Jeonghan's pictures by order]

[Arrange 4 pictures in order] [They're all from different periods] [Remember he never ages]

Luna, sitting with Jeonghan on the chairs, caught sight of the pictures and immediately started laughing. "That’s hard," she commented, as she and Jeonghan moved closer to the table to get a better look.

“You should be able to get it.” PD Na told Vernon.

The rest of the members began to murmur and exclaim in unison. "Ahhh…" they said, their curiosity piqued as PD Na revealed the challenge.

"Arrange it by order," PD Na instructed, laying out four pictures of Jeonghan from different eras of their career.

Vernon blinked, staring at the photos in slight confusion. "What is this?" he muttered under his breath, clearly thrown off by the task.

Seungkwan let out a whine as he hovered near the table. "I’m so good at this! That’s my field of expertise!" His voice was a mix of genuine annoyance and playful boasting.

Dino, Jun, and Hoshi immediately mimicked Seungkwan’s tone, their exaggerated impressions sending the members into a fit of laughter. Seungkwan joined in the laughter but remained adamant. "I’m good at it!" he repeated.

Vernon began carefully arranging the photos on the table, the rest of the members crowding around him to observe. His brow furrowed as he tried to differentiate between the images.

[He carefully arranges the pictures]

"They’re all the same," Luna chuckled, glancing at Jeonghan, whose face remained consistently youthful in all the pictures.

Even Jeonghan joined in, shaking his head. "Even I can’t do it," he said, a chuckle escaping as he leaned closer to get a better look at the photos. PD Na began counting down the seconds, adding more pressure.

"They all look just the same," S.Coups added, echoing the sentiment as Vernon rearranged them for what felt like the hundredth time.

Jeonghan erupted into laughter. "He has no idea," he teased, making the rest of the group chuckle again.

Vernon glanced at the photos, his confusion evident. "I mean, don’t they all look the same? It looks like you from the other day," he said as he pointed at Jeonghan.

[Just different hair style]

"Focus on the hair color, Vernon," Luna suggested gently from behind, offering a helpful tip as she moved closer.

"Are you done?" PD Na asked, glancing at the clock to remind him that time was running out.

Vernon sighed and turned back to the pictures. "Do I get a chance to change it?" he asked, hoping for a lifeline.

"You have one last chance," PD Na confirmed, watching him intently.

Mingyu, ever the playful instigator, leaned in close to Vernon, whispering like a devil on his shoulder, "Don’t change it. Don’t. There’s a reason why he’s telling you to change it."

Vernon considered his words, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is it a high degree of mind game?" he mused before turning back to the photos. After a moment of contemplation, he made his final decision. "I’ll go with this."

Luna giggled as she moved closer to Jeonghan again, back-hugging him as her chin rested on his shoulder. She peeked over, knowing Vernon had made a mistake. "Aigo…"

"Vernon, should I say you're firm?" PD Na began, smiling as he prepared to reveal the result. "Here’s the answer."

He pointed to the first picture. "Number one is correct."

A brief moment of triumph spread across Vernon’s face until PD Na moved on to the rest of the photos.

"Here’s number two," PD Na said, shifting to the second photo, "here comes number four… and number three is last."

Luna, still perched behind Jeonghan, grinned. "You only got one right."

Vernon sighed, pointing at the first picture. "That’s ‘Don’t Wanna Cry.’"

[They recognize it by his hair] [’Don't Wanna Cry', May 2017]

Mingyu pointed at the second picture, laughing. "That’s ‘CLAP.’"

"Is it?" Jeonghan asked, equally puzzled by his own face.

"Isn’t that ‘THANKS’?" Vernon added, still trying to make sense of it all.

"I had pink hair for ‘CLAP,’" Jeonghan interjected, trying to sort through the visual timeline of his hairstyles.

PD Na chuckled at Jeonghan’s confusion, "I’m sorry, but aren’t these your pictures?"

Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh along. "I can’t tell either. This is so hard."

"That was so hard," Seungkwan chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief. "It’s hard because you never age," He added as he turned to Jeonghan, teasing him. "You’re always so consistent."

"They were all the same," Vernon grumbled playfully as he accepted his defeat and began to eat his lemons.

Mingyu, still determined to claim victory after his earlier failure, stood with a renewed sense of purpose. His competitive spirit was palpable as he approached PD Na, his brows furrowed with focus. "I'll try for golf balls," he declared, handing over the slip of paper he had chosen. "I’d rather pick the Character Quiz." He pouted, half-joking, trying to mask his nervousness.

[Mingyu returns for golf balls]

PD Na unfolded the paper and glanced at what was written. "SEVENTEEN Quiz," he read out loud, grinning. "This won’t be easy."

Mingyu straightened, ready for the challenge, though the uncertainty was clear in his eyes.

PD Na looked him squarely in the face before delivering the question. "When’s S.Coups' birthday?"

Mingyu’s face lit up with surprise, not expecting such a simple query. "August 8," he answered without hesitation, his voice laced with disbelief at the ease of the question.

"Ya, that’s too easy," Luna piped up from her seat, shaking her head with a laugh.

PD Na chuckled, equally shocked at how simple it had been. "You got it. Good job," he congratulated Mingyu, though his tone revealed how anticlimactic the moment felt.

"We all know each other’s birthdays," Seungkwan chimed in, turning to PD Na with an almost proud expression.

"I know their birthdays," Mingyu said, his chest puffed out in confidence as he absorbed the victory.

PD Na raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do you remember each other's birthdays?" he asked, his voice rising with playful skepticism.

A chorus of "Yes" and "Of course" echoed across the room as the members responded in unison, their voices overlapping with laughter and confidence.

"Really?" PD Na pressed, still amused by how naturally they remembered.

Luna giggled at the disbelief in his tone. "Why is that so shocking?"

"It was so easy. I was like, ‘August 8?’" Mingyu repeated, still bewildered that the question had been such a breeze.

Joshua leaned forward from his chair, nodding thoughtfully. "We get very disappointed if we don’t remember it."

Luna nodded in agreement, her tone softer as she added, "We’ve known each other for years. It’d be weird if we didn’t know."

Mingyu, still basking in his small victory, broke into a playful tune. "The golf balls," he sang lightly as he approached the table to collect his prize, a wide grin stretching across his face.

PD Na shook his head with a laugh, clearly amused by the whole interaction. "I worked with Hyo Jung for twenty years, but I don’t know her birthday," he admitted, pointing at the other producer standing beside him.

The members roared with laughter, the room filling with their amusement. Joshua’s sharp wit cut through the noise as he teasingly remarked, "She’s disappointed."

PD Na shook his head again, this time with a mock sigh. "You don’t know my birthday either," he told Hyo Jung, his nod full of playful accusation.

"She can’t complain," S.Coups chimed in.

It was finally Minghao's turn, and he eyed the prize he had wanted from the start— the delicate tea set that sat neatly on the prize table. With a small, determined smile, he turned to PD Na. "I want the tea set," he said, his voice clear but calm. He handed over the slip of paper with his mission written on it, fully prepared for whatever challenge lay ahead.

"Word Relay," PD Na announced, holding up the paper for Minghao to see. A ripple of laughter went through the group as Minghao tilted his head in confusion.

"How can a word have a relay?" Minghao asked, his innocent question making the other members burst into laughter.

PD Na chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "Here’s what you’re going to do," he began, speaking slowly for clarity. "You know body parts, right?"

"Yes," Minghao nodded.

"Okay. What’s this?" PD Na pointed at his own ear.

"Ear," Minghao answered confidently.

"Right. Now, just like an ear, say five one-syllable body parts," PD Na explained, giving him the mission.

Without missing a beat, Minghao slowly fired off his answers. "Liver, ear, mouth, nose, eye. Wahh!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in victory as he walked back to his place, grinning as the others clapped and cheered for him.

"Good job! Good job, Hao!" Luna shouted, standing from her seat and clapping with a huge smile on her face, as though she were a proud parent.

But Seungkwan, ever the perfectionist, raised an eyebrow. "Does the liver count?" he asked, glancing around.

"Of course it does," Luna quickly answered.

"Of course. It’s still in your body," Minghao added matter-of-factly, his innocent tone causing more laughter to erupt among the group.

"It counts. It’s a body part," PD Na confirmed with a grin, amused by the dynamic.

Minghao turned to Seungkwan with a playful, slightly confused look. "Isn’t a liver part of your body? You don’t know how to play this," he said, his genuine innocence adding to his adorable charm.

"That wasn’t so easy," PD Na acknowledged, giving Minghao a nod of approval.

But Minghao, beaming with pride, hugged his newly won tea set close to his chest. "It works if you try," he said, giggling softly at his own success.

[Happy]

"You did it," PD Na said, smiling at the satisfaction on Minghao’s face.

"Thank you," Minghao replied, still holding onto his prize.

"You love tea. This is great," Dino clapped for him, happy to see Minghao with a prize that fit him so perfectly.

Minghao chuckled as he moved back into line, admiring his prize closely. "This is really pretty," he said softly, almost to himself.

"Yes, it’s pretty," Mingyu agreed, leaning over to get a closer look at the tea set.

Meanwhile, Luna, who had returned to her seat next to Jeonghan, covered her mouth with her hand, giggling at the scene in front of her. She glanced at Jeonghan, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"Why?" Jeonghan asked, smiling warmly at her.

"Minghao is so cute," Luna pouted dramatically, placing both hands over her chest as though it pained her how adorable Minghao was. Her exaggerated reaction made Jeonghan chuckle softly at her.

It was Dino’s turn once more, and determination flashed in his eyes. He had his sights set on one thing: the razor set.

"I'll try for razors again," Dino said confidently as he stepped forward.

[The regular customer who's only after the razors]

From the back of the line, Wonwoo couldn’t help but giggle. "Dino wants the razor set," he teased.

"I've got to get it," Dino muttered to himself, clenching his fists in focus as he handed the slip of paper he’d chosen over to PD Na.

[I'll get it this time]

PD Na unfolded the paper, and before he could even fold it back, Mingyu, standing in the middle of the line, caught sight of what was written. He burst into laughter, clapping his hands.

"But it’s so windy!" Mingyu exclaimed, his voice betraying the mischief in his mind.

"Did you see it, Mingyu?" PD Na asked, amused by Mingyu’s sudden outburst.

Mingyu laughed harder, doubling over and falling onto the ground in exaggerated glee. "You can read others’ misfortune very fast," PD Na commented, shaking his head while the rest of the group looked on in confusion.

"What was it?" Dino asked, his brow furrowed, feeling a sense of impending doom.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Mingyu said, clapping excitedly.

Finally, PD Na revealed the mission, "Light the match at once."

[Oh, poor Dino]

The group erupted into laughter. With how windy it was— hair flying everywhere, whether long or short— it was near impossible.

"Oh no," Luna chuckled, shaking her head sympathetically at Dino.

"That’s impossible," Dokyeom chimed in.

"Light the match in five seconds upon receiving it," PD Na repeated, sending the group into further hysterics.

Dino, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie, prepared for the challenge. "Wait," he said, trying to mentally brace himself.

"And after lighting it, the match has to stay lit for 3 seconds," PD Na added, causing another burst of laughter. PD Na placed a box of matches in front of Dino, his face barely holding back a smile. "Go," he instructed.

Quickly, Dino grabbed the box of matches, his fingers fumbling slightly as adrenaline coursed through him. The rest of the members abandoned their seats and positions in the line, crowding around Dino as if this were a grand spectacle. PD Na began the countdown as everyone tried to offer their help.

"Block the wind with your body," Mingyu suggested, leaning in.

"Like that, hunch over like that," Luna said from the side, her voice filled with encouragement as Dino bent over, shielding his hands from the relentless wind.

"Go easy. No need to use your strength," Jeonghan advised, his calm voice contrasting with the chaos around him.

[With other members' help and advice]

Dino struck the match, his hands working quickly— but as soon as it lit, the flame flickered and died almost instantly.

[Snap] [Gone]

The group exploded into laughter. "Why did you die, buddy?" Dino whined dramatically to the match, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"It went off right away!" Dokyeom said, shaking his head in sympathy. "That’s horrible."

[It died] [In 0.01 seconds]

PD Na chuckled at Dino's failed attempt, "You didn’t ask for something big. All you wanted was razors."

"How many lemons has he eaten now?" S.Coups asked, pointing at Dino with a grin, knowing that Dino had already consumed six sour lemons in his quest for the razors.

[6 lemons while trying to get razors]

"Dino the lemon," Hoshi teased, flashing a mischievous smile.

"Dino the lemon," Joshua echoed, chuckling along with the rest of the group, as Dino sat there eating his lemons, half-amused, half-frustrated at his misfortune.

It was Jun’s turn once again, his eyes gleamed with determination. "I want the Harry Potter Lego," he declared confidently, handing the paper to PD Na.

[He chose the last Lego]

PD Na opened the slip of paper and squinted slightly as he read the challenge aloud. "This will be tough... Make me laugh in ten seconds," he said, trying to hold back a smile. The group erupted in laughter once more.

"Think out of the box, Jun!" Luna called out encouragingly, while Jeonghan gently dragged her by the wrist as they moved to the back of the line together, trying their luck once more.

"Who knows? You might be able to do it," Woozi said, adding his support, although his smirk suggested he wasn’t sure if Jun could pull it off.

PD Na slowly began counting down from ten. "Ten... nine..."

[The countdown begins]

Jun blinked, suddenly realizing the countdown had started. "Has it started?" he asked, eyes widening in a mild panic.

[He doesn't know what to do]

"Seven... six..."

Jun thought for a moment, staring at PD Na, his mind racing. Desperation crept in, and as the seconds ticked away, he quickly scrunched up his face into the goofiest expression he could think of.

[He first tries to frown his face] [Ta-da]

However, PD Na remained stone-faced, not even a hint of a smile crossing his features.

[He's too handsome to be funny]

"Five... four..." The tension built as Jun began to sweat.

"Hurry!" Minghao shouted from the back, egging Jun on.

With only three seconds left, Jun’s mind went blank, but then, an idea struck him. "What about tickling?" he said out loud. Before anyone could stop him, Jun lunged forward and started tickling PD Na’s sides.

[As soon as he started tickling, Producer Na laughed]

The suddenness of it caught PD Na completely off guard. His composure crumbled instantly as laughter burst from him, his face twisting in both amusement and shock. He hadn't expected this tactic at all. PD Na laughed, but his surprised smile didn’t fade. He stared at Jun, still reeling from the unexpected assault of tickles.

Jun celebrated wildly, jumping up and down as the members cheered him on.

"You’re a genius!" Dokyeom clapped Jun on the back, clearly impressed.

[In a way that no one expected]

"I’ve never thought about that!" PD Na said, still recovering. He shook his head in disbelief. "But you did it," he added, a begrudging smile on his face.

With a victorious grin, Jun bounded toward the prize table and grabbed the last Harry Potter Lego set, a bounce in his step as if he’d just conquered the world.

"I would’ve never thought about tickling," Joshua said, shaking his head in amusement as he watched Jun cradle the box like a trophy.

It was S.Coups' turn next, and with a calm, confident stride, he handed the paper he had chosen over to PD Na.

“S.Coups, born on August 8,” PD Na teased, playfully emphasizing the detail, causing a few chuckles among the members.

S.Coups pointed directly at the gift certificate, eyeing it like a prized possession. “I want the gift certificate,” he said decisively.

From the sidelines, Seungkwan let out a mock whine, his voice rising comically. “That’s mine!” Seungkwan exclaimed, earning amused glances from the other members.

PD Na mirrored Seungkwan’s whining tone, further adding to the playful tension in the room. “What’s going on?” PD Na asked dramatically before focusing back on the paper. He laughed as he noticed yet another easy mission. “Okay, SEVENTEEN Quiz,” he announced.

“The social media manager,” Wonwoo teased, referencing S.Coups’ well-known position as the unofficial information hub of the group.

“Most informative,” Dokyeom added with a knowing smirk, poking fun at the ease of the quiz missions.

PD Na glanced at the remaining papers in the bowl. “So many people have picked SEVENTEEN Quiz. There are only easy ones left now.” He paused for effect before reading the question aloud. “How do you spell PLEDIS?”

S.Coups didn’t hesitate for even a second. “P, L, E, D, I, S,” he answered with a slight grin as if the question was too simple for his level.

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed with a slight nod of acknowledgment.

Without missing a beat, S.Coups moved away from the line, making a beeline for the gift certificate. His fellow members couldn’t help but react.

“That’s too easy,” Luna commented with a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“That’s so easy,” Vernon echoed, equally amused by the simplicity of the question.

It was Dokyeom’s turn once again, and he stepped forward confidently to grab a paper from the bucket. As he did so, he tried to spell PLEDIS aloud, “P, L, E, I, D, S,” nodding to himself, completely unaware of his mistake.

PD Na, noticing the error, quickly grabbed the bucket out of Dokyeom’s reach, chuckling, “What did you just say?”

Dokyeom blinked in surprise and then burst into laughter, realizing his mistake. “Can I just pick one?” he asked, still giggling at his blunder.

[He must be from a different agency]

“People get confused sometimes!” Dokyeom defended, still laughing as he finally pulled a paper from the bucket and handed it to PD Na. “I’ll try for the bulk snack,” he said with a hopeful grin.

PD Na opened the paper, reading the mission aloud, “Object Quiz.” He turned around and reached for a picture, revealing it to Dokyeom, who stared at it, completely baffled. The image was of some random object, but Dokyeom looked at it with wide eyes, clearly at a loss for words.

“Beating?” Dokyeom said, blurting out nonsense in an attempt to answer, but PD Na shook his head, “Wrong.”

Dokyeom let out a defeated sigh and grabbed his cup of lemons, moving back to the seating area to eat as the members chuckled at his answer.

“What even is that?” S.Coups asked, puzzled, as Dokyeom sat down.

[The good son appears again]

Next in line was Wonwoo, who still clutched the golf club and golf balls he had won earlier. He eyed the sack of dog food sitting on the prize table, clearly planning to win it for his father. “My dad has a dog,” he commented casually, a determined glint in his eye.

“Is that your theme? Being a good son?” PD Na teased as Wonwoo handed him the paper he had picked.

[Golf club for his father] [Golf balls for his father]

PD Na read the next quiz question aloud, “What’s Newton’s full name?”

Wonwoo froze, completely at a loss for the answer. The silence hung in the air as PD Na started his countdown, but Wonwoo didn’t say a word.

“Jimmy Newton,” Dokyeom muttered from his seat, trying to be helpful but only making things worse, as S.Coups and Woozi doubled over in laughter.

“Isaac Newton,” Luna and Vernon said in unison from the back, their voices overlapping as they both got the answer right.

“You two got it,” PD Na acknowledged with a nod, though it wasn’t their question.

Wonwoo shrugged as he left the line, missing out on the dog food, but his poker face never faltered, earning a few more chuckles from the group as the game continued.

[The real rich appears] [Korean beef combo] [Dyson]

Hoshi stepped forward once again, a box of Dyson appliances in one hand and a Korean beef set tucked under his arm, looking rather content with his winnings so far. PD Na, noticing Hoshi's abundance of prizes, pointed at him with a grin and then at Wonwoo, who was standing to the side with only his golf club and golf balls. "I’m sorry, but he’s not that rich,” PD Na said, gesturing to Wonwoo, making everyone burst into laughter.

Hoshi nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled another paper from the bucket and handed it to PD Na.

PD Na opened it and read aloud, “Old abbreviation quiz.”

“Old abbreviations?” Vernon repeated, his brow furrowing as he glanced at Hoshi, who looked equally confused.

“Yes,” PD Na warned as he consulted his cue cards. “What does ‘WWKSB’ mean?”

Hoshi blinked, completely lost.

"What?" Luna murmured from her place in the middle of the line, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"’Why don't we...?’" Hoshi started, but he trailed off, unable to think of the rest of the phrase. He looked desperate for inspiration, but before he could come up with anything, PD Na’s countdown ended.

"Wrong!" PD Na declared, shaking his head.

"Isn’t it ‘Why don’t we kiss since we’re bored’?” S.Coups chimed in casually, earning shocked looks from a few members.

“Really?” Hoshi turned to S.Coups, disbelief written all over his face.

PD Na laughed and nodded. “Yes— ‘Why don’t we kiss since we’re bored?’”

Luna stood in line, her arms crossed over her chest, her face calm and unreadable as she processed the answer. But beside her, Jeonghan turned to her the instant PD Na gave the answer, his eyes glinting with mischief and knowing. His gaze seemed to imply a teasing suggestion as if he were echoing what the answer had just revealed.

Luna could feel the weight of Jeonghan’s stare on her face, the amusement radiating off him, but she kept her face forward, refusing to give him the reaction he was clearly baiting for— especially with cameras rolling. Yet, the intensity of his stare was relentless, and despite her composure, she knew he wouldn’t let up.

After a few more moments, still feeling the intensity of his gaze and the smirk undoubtedly playing on his lips, Luna subtly shifted her eyes upward, locking her gaze with his without turning her head. She raised her eyebrow ever so slightly, silently challenging him. Jeonghan’s lazy smirk only widened, his long black hair framing his face as he stared at her, utterly entertained. His tongue flicked over his lips briefly, making her grin at his persistence before she turned her attention back in front, letting the moment dissolve without a word exchanged between them.

“‘WWKSB?’” Vernon echoed, nodding as if learning something entirely new about the past.

“I guess people were more open-minded back in the day,” Hoshi deadpanned, his expression comically serious. PD Na and the rest of the crew couldn’t contain their laughter.

Hoshi, unbothered, moved away from the line with a resigned shrug, grabbing his cup of lemons as he prepared to take a seat. “Why would you kiss when you’re bored?”

Seungkwan, who had been quietly processing the absurdity of it all, mimicked the abbreviation. “WWKSB?” he said in a teasing tone, nudging Dino.

“Why don’t you stop?” Dino responded with the same tone, and the two dissolved into laughter.

Vernon stepped up for his third attempt, visibly more determined but equally unsure, having yet to claim any prizes so far. His eyes darted to the bucket of papers, scanning for any that could give him an advantage, but luck was hard to read.

[3rd visit] [Vernon still hasn't won anything yet]

He drew a slip and handed it to PD Na, who glanced at it and read aloud, “Proverb Relay.”

At that, Vernon let out a visible groan and physically cringed. “Proverbs... ah,” he mumbled, already anticipating his failure.

“That’s what I’m good at,” Wonwoo chimed in confidently from his seat at the side.

“You have to answer immediately,” PD Na instructed, putting Vernon on the spot with a serious tone, giving him no time to overthink. “‘One man sows—?’”

Vernon’s brows furrowed in concentration, but then, in a total shot in the dark, he answered, “‘The fox reaps’?”

“Wrong,” PD Na declared with a smirk, much to the amusement of the others.

“What is it?” Vernon asked, confused but chuckling at his wild guess.

“It’s ‘One man sows, another man reaps,’” PD Na clarified.

Next in line was Mingyu, stepping forward for another chance at redemption. Mingyu grabbed his paper and, with a quick glance at PD Na, handed it over. Woozi, seeing Mingyu’s confident stance, teased from the back, “Mingyu won’t get it.”

Mingyu turned slightly, not one to let the joke go unnoticed. “Why would you say that? I still got one prize!” he defended as he showed off his golf balls.

Unbothered, PD Na read the paper. “It’s a Logo Quiz.”

“That’s easy,” Minghao called out from behind, encouraging Mingyu with his usual calm tone.

PD Na pulled out a picture, held it up in front of Mingyu, and immediately started counting down. “One, two, three—?”

Without hesitating, Mingyu blurted, “Simyang!”

“That’s Korea Music Copyright Association,” Woozi said, his sharp eyes always catching such details.

“That’s right— Korea Music Copyright Association,” PD Na confirmed, a satisfied nod directed at Woozi.

“I got it,” Woozi said, proud of his keen observation

[It was so easy for the producer]

“Woozi is the only one who got it right,” PD Na added for emphasis, as the rest of the group chuckled.

“He’s basically a permanent employee,” S.Coups added, pointing at Woozi like he’d already earned a spot in the association’s hierarchy.

“I even have their app,” Woozi boasted, laughing as PD Na handed him the photo again, testing him.

“Woozi, what’s this?” PD Na asked, showing the picture once more.

“Korea Music Copyright Association,” Woozi replied effortlessly, proving his point again.

[Woozi has the copyright for 147 songs]

“This is crazy... It’s so embarrassing,” Mingyu muttered as he moved to grab his cup of lemons.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” PD Na said with a comforting grin. “Just have some lemons.”

“You’re right,” Mingyu conceded, playfully surrendering as he left the line, still shaking his head in disbelief.

Minghao stepped up for his next attempt, eyes glancing at the bucket of papers before settling on one. He plucked it out with ease and handed it to PD Na, his expression calm and collected as always. "I want the slippers," he stated, pointing at the prize he had his sights set on.

Jeonghan, standing to the side, chimed in, “You might have a lot of guests at home,” teasing Minghao in his usual soft-spoken but playful tone.

PD Na opened the slip and read aloud, “It’s a Korean movie title.”

Jun, who stood nearby, gave his teammate a reassuring nod. “That could be easy. You’ve watched a lot of movies,” he said, trying to encourage Minghao, though everyone knew this wasn’t going to be as simple as it seemed.

PD Na raised his eyebrows at Minghao and announced, “You have five seconds.”

Minghao’s expression shifted into one of mild disbelief. “Five seconds? That’s too short,” he said, then added with a clever smirk, “I’m The8. Give me eight seconds.”

The group burst into laughter at his quick-witted response. “That makes sense,” Luna quipped, joining in on the joke.

PD Na chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re the one who said eye, nose, mouth, and liver earlier. I’ll give you seven seconds.”

With that, PD Na showed the card with the initials ‘DTL’ on it. “It’s a Korean movie,” PD Na said, starting to count down.

Minghao’s brow furrowed as he stared at the letters on the card, trying to piece together the title. His focus was intense, but the seconds ticked away too quickly. 

“That’s so easy!” Seungkwan whined from the back, watching with eager anticipation.

“What is it?” Jeonghan and Luna muttered to each other, both squinting at the letters, equally stumped.

But before Minghao could answer his time ran out, PD Na announced, “Wrong!”

Immediately, Minghao turned to Seungkwan, pretending to be offended. “I got it wrong because of you!” he playfully scolded, causing a ripple of laughter to echo through the group.

Seungkwan pouted, “You couldn’t get it anyway. It’s ‘Decision to Leave’.”

The members collectively groaned in realization, a chorus of “Ahhh” filling the air as they pieced it together.

As the challenge drew closer to its end, PD Na glanced at the remaining members still standing in line and announced, "I'll be closing soon. Only those who haven't won anything should line up."

With that, Luna and the other members who had already won prizes took their seats off to the side. Some settled on chairs while others sat cross-legged on the ground, all watching the final contestants. Jeonghan, Vernon, Seungkwan, and Dino were the last ones standing in line.

[Next customer is Jeonghan]

[Rummage] [What's he doing?]

Jeonghan, a known game cheater from their ‘Going Seventeen’ antics, was already up to his usual tricks. He rummaged through the remaining papers, eyes squinting as he tried to read the questions through the faint marker lines that had bled through the back of the paper.

"You can’t go through the questions," one of the writers said, eyeing Jeonghan suspiciously.

Jeonghan simply chuckled, casually continuing his sneaky mission. PD Na, watching from a distance, stared at Jeonghan in confusion. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go through them,” PD Na repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

Feigning innocence, Jeonghan smiled and chose his prize. “I’ll go for the glove— I’ll mix them,” he said, before pretending to mix the papers up. However, his fingers were already gripping onto one specific paper, clearly hoping for an easier question.

“I’m sorry, but you held onto it when you shook them up,” PD Na pointed out, calling Jeonghan out on his cheeky tactics. The observation earned PD Na a laugh from Jeonghan, who finally picked a different paper and handed it over.

“It’s Four-character Idiom Relay,” PD Na announced, causing a wave of groans and laughter from the group as Jeonghan’s face fell into a look of mock defeat.

“You can do it,” Luna encouraged, clapping lightly from the side, followed by several other voices.

“We should make a new idiom for today,” Mingyu joked from the sidelines.

"You got this," Jun said, backing Jeonghan with playful confidence.

With a sigh, Jeonghan straightened up. “No pain, no gain,” he declared confidently.

PD Na blinked, confused. “I haven’t started yet,” he said, which sent the group into a fit of laughter. 

“You have to say it right away,” PD Na reminded him before reading the first part of the idiom. “Ome?”

“Ga-3,” Jeonghan answered without hesitation, a cheeky grin on his face.

[What?]

The room erupted into loud laughter as PD Na announced, “Wrong!”

[Omega-3: fatty acid needed for normal growth and health]

"It’s omebulmang," Seungkwan chimed in through his own laughter, shaking his head at Jeonghan’s hilariously absurd answer.

Luna toppled over, leaning on Dokyeom as she laughed uncontrollably. "That was amazing," she wheezed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from laughing so hard.

“That was a good one,” Joshua agreed, nodding approvingly at Jeonghan’s absurd creativity.

[Nice wrong answer]

From the side, Dokyeom couldn’t help but add, “From now on, it’s Omega-3.”

“I’m jealous that he was funny,” Seungkwan pouted, still giggling at the chaos.

“Omega-3 was brilliant,” Dokyeom repeated, shaking his head in amusement as Jeonghan, grinning, stepped back to rejoin the group after his bold attempt.

It was Dino's turn, and the determined maknae stepped up confidently. "I'll take the razors again," he said, handing PD Na the paper he had chosen. 

PD Na glanced at the paper, then looked up with a sly smile. "It's Proverb Relay."

Instantly, the members reacted. “He’s out,” S.Coups said, shaking his head with a knowing smile. 

“Aigo, I’ll just buy you razors, Dino-ah,” Luna chuckled, amused at Dino’s previous failed attempts. 

“I’m good at it,” Dino told her, his face filled with mock determination.

[No, you're not]

"Ah, really?" Luna asked, her concerned tone causing S.Coups to laugh and point at her for having such little faith in Dino. "Alright"

“Make it funny, Dino,” Mingyu teased, leaning back with a smirk. 

“He’s guaranteed to be out,” Dokyeom chimed in, causing Dino to sigh dramatically.

“I told you. Everyone except for noona makes me negative and hopeless,” Dino said, feigning offense, causing laughter to ripple through the group.

[Proving that it's true]

“In the back, he said ‘One man sows, and walls have ears,’” Wonwoo joked, causing PD Na to clap and laugh at Dino’s famously incorrect previous answers.

“You should at least be funny,” Joshua encouraged, chuckling at Dino’s struggle.

“You’re a funny kid,” Mingyu added, his teasing tone light-hearted.

“If you play seriously, you’ll be funny,” Woozi assured him.

[No one expects him to get it]

“I hope you get it,” Seungkwan said encouragingly, standing behind Dino.

“I will get it,” Dino said firmly, taking a deep breath. He looked determined, ready to prove them all wrong.

“Here we go,” PD Na said, holding up the paper. He paused for dramatic effect before reading the first part of the proverb. “‘Bamboo basket...’”

Without missing a beat, Dino confidently responded, “‘Is a shame.’”

PD Na blinked before declaring, “Wrong!”

The group burst into laughter. Dino clutched his sides, joining the members as they doubled over at his very wrong, but hilarious answer.

“‘It can’t carry water,’” S.Coups said between laughs, finally giving the correct answer.

“It is a shame, though,” Woozi said, still chuckling, as PD Na handed Dino his cup of lemons once again.

[It's also a shame] [Having 9 lemons for the razor]

Dino sighed dramatically as he received the lemons, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his answer. 

It was Seungkwan’s turn next. He approached the table with determined strides, picking up a paper and handing it over to PD Na. “I’ll go for the bulk snack,” he said confidently.

PD Na opened the paper, and a smirk crossed his face as he announced, “Seungkwan, it’s the Common Sense Quiz.”

Seungkwan’s face lit up with joy, his excitement palpable. 

“You think you’re smart, huh?” Mingyu teased from the side.

“You look smart, but you’re not smart,” Dokyeom added with a playful grin.

Joshua joined in, asking innocently, “Does he look smart?”

“Do you have no intention to root for me?” Seungkwan asked, his voice dripping with mock hurt. The room filled with laughter as the members teased him further.

“Wooo! Boo Seungkwan!” Luna cheered softly from the side, breaking the silence. The sweetness of her voice made everyone laugh even harder.

“Thanks, noona,” Seungkwan said, grateful for at least one supporter.

“Seungkwan, let’s start,” PD Na said, pulling everyone back into focus. “Here’s the question: We have names for like-minded people. What do you call people who want to be financially independent so that they can retire soon?”

As PD Na started counting down, Seungkwan’s face scrunched up in thought. “Elf,” Jeonghan whispered mischievously to him.

“Hot,” Joshua murmured under his breath, causing even more distraction.

Seungkwan, getting flustered, shouted, “Get me something hot!” as if it would save him from the pressure. He glanced around in desperation before realizinghe wasn't making any sense.

“Wrong,” PD Na said, shaking his head.

Seungkwan whined, “What’s the answer?”

“It’s fire,” PD Na explained.

"Fire? He's right, then," Luna said, playfully backing up Seungkwan.

"Right! You got it. It’s fire!" S.Coups chimed in, causing the whole group to laugh at the funny coincidence between Seungkwan’s ‘hot’ and the actual answer.

[Fire= hot]

“It is hot trotter,” Wonwoo added, making everyone burst into laughter again as they exclaimed at the revelation.

“Hot!” Seungkwan yelled, turning to PD Na in one last attempt to argue his case, shocking the PD enough that he stood up from his seat.

[Producer Na is shocked]

“We love Korean. Hot!” Seungkwan continued dramatically, trying to convince PD Na with his antics.

“That just gave me goosebumps,” PD Na said, his voice full of amusement.

“Is it hot?” Seungkwan asked, looking to the rest of the members who eagerly backed Seungkwan up. Everyone began chiming in at once, urging PD Na to accept Seungkwan’s creative answer.

[Will it count as an answer?] [In times like this, all 14 people team up]

“But ‘fire’ here means like firing someone,” PD Na tried to explain, still bewildered by how the situation had spiraled into chaos.

“It’s the same spelling,” Mingyu pointed out, looking to Luna for confirmation who nodded.

Finally, PD Na gave in with a laugh. “You got it,” he said, waving his hand.

[Approved] [He won the bulk snack]

Seungkwan let out an excited shout of victory, rushing to grab the massive bags of bulk snacks. He held them up triumphantly, his face lit up with satisfaction. “Thank you. This will go perfectly with alcohol,” Seungkwan said, clutching his prize with pride.

[Jeonghan is the last customer of the day]

As Jeonghan stepped forward for his final turn, the last customer left to close out the segment, he carefully picked a paper and handed it over to PD Na with a smirk, fully aware that this was his last chance to win something for himself. The atmosphere was light, with the members watching in anticipation of what trick or witty response Jeonghan might pull.

PD Na opened the folded slip of paper, scanned it briefly, and then raised his voice with a hint of amusement, “It’s a dud.”

[Neat finish]

The members burst into laughter, clapping in delight at the anticlimactic ending, while Jeonghan raised his hands in mock celebration, chuckling along with them. “Of course, it started and ended with a dud,” Luna quipped, smiling warmly at Jeonghan’s playful shrug. 

['Super' Store ends]

The segment ended with applause from everyone, and the group clapped, bowing to the staff and offering their thanks for the fun experience. They gathered their prizes, preparing to head back to the green room for a well-deserved break before the next segment began. 

[The customers seem happy]

As they moved around, PD Na approached Jeonghan with a small, familiar item in hand— a baseball that had been one of the prizes. "This is for you," PD Na said, handing over the ball as Jeonghan smiled, tucking it under his arm.

[It may be closed, but there are prizes for people who were funny]

Around them, the members had started spreading out— some still lingering in the open field, tearing into Seungkwan’s bulk snack bags and laughing, while others drifted toward the break area. 

[It’s closed. Please leave.]

[Post-credits scene]

[Here's what happened during the break]

Jeonghan and Luna were the first to arrive in the green room, their footsteps quiet as they entered the familiar space. The air was cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the field outside.

[Jeonghan and Luna are the first people here to take a rest]

Without saying a word, Jeonghan lowered himself to the floor and sat with his legs out elongated in front of him, his back resting against the wall. Luna, without hesitation, settled down beside him, placing her head on his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Both pulled out their phones, enjoying the peaceful silence that enveloped them. The room, for a moment, was theirs alone.

[Low battery mode]

“You two got here so fast,” Wonwoo’s voice broke the quiet as he strolled in a few minutes later, raising an eyebrow at their relaxed posture. Luna smiled up from Jeonghan’s lap, but neither moved, the easy comfort between them tangible.

Slowly, the rest of the members began trickling in. Mingyu, entering with his usual boundless energy, spotted Luna’s legs stretched out comfortably on the floor. Without warning, he scooped up her legs in one fluid motion, sat down beside her, and gently placed her legs back down on his lap. Luna chuckled but didn’t resist, knowing that this was typical of Mingyu.

“Why is there chroma key?” Mingyu asked, glancing around at the green walls that framed the room.

“I guess we’re doing something here later,” Dokyeom chimed in, scanning the room with a curious look.

“There are cameras everywhere,” S.Coups observed, noticing the subtle placements of hidden cameras tucked into various corners.

“You’re right,” Wonwoo said with a nod. “The unseen hide-and-seek. It’s gotta be something like that.”

[This is just Producer Na's habit]

Luna closed her phone and grinned. “Doesn’t this remind you guys of something?” The members glanced at her, waiting for the punchline. Her grin widened. “Melona Prison.”

The room erupted into laughter. The memory of their trainee days hit everyone at once— Melona Prison, the room where they spent countless hours training, named for the bright green walls and the never-ending surveillance cameras. It was their prison, their home, and the source of both fond and difficult memories.

“Ah, it really does feel like that place,” Mingyu agreed, chuckling as he absentmindedly ran his fingers on Luna’s legs.

Seungkwan, ever the playful one, suddenly tossed a blanket over Jeonghan, Luna, and Mingyu, covering them in a soft cocoon.

“Seungkwan, why are you suddenly being so nice and got us a blanket?” Jeonghan asked, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

S.Coups, ever the leader with a teasing smile, cut in, “It’s because there are cameras.”

Seungkwan huffed. “What are you talking about? I’m always nice.”

The members settled into casual conversation, the easy flow of banter filling the room. Jeonghan, leaning back lazily, turned to the group and mused, “Not eating is the best way to prevent aging.”

“Really?” Dokyeom asked, his tone genuinely curious.

Jeonghan nodded sagely. “Yes.”

Luna looked up at him from his lap, her brow furrowing. “What nonsense is that?” she asked, half-joking, but her concern for him was clear in her voice.

With a soft sigh, Luna sat up and leaned her back against the wall, positioning herself between Jeonghan and Mingyu. The blanket remained draped over her, warm and cozy, as two pairs of hands— Jeonghan’s and Mingyu’s— rested lightly on her thigh, their touch gentle and absentminded.

[When they're talking about detoxing, the snack arrives]

A staff member entered, placing a bowl of snacks on the table next to them. Hoshi eyed the bowl, perking up. “Snack?”

Jeonghan, however, shook his head and gestured toward the snacks. “That’s all toxic.”

Luna shot him a sharp glare, not liking how casually he was talking about not eating. Her silent disapproval was palpable, and Jeonghan, noticing her expression, immediately leaned over, pressing his face against her shoulder in a small gesture of apology. He placed a quick, soft kiss on her shoulder as if that would make her relent. 

Just then, another staff member entered the room, balancing a tray of iced Americanos. As she moved toward the table, her grip faltered, and the tray slipped. The cups tumbled over, and coffee spilled across the floor, eliciting gasps of shock from the members. They all stood up in an instant, rushing over to help her.

“Are you okay?” Luna asked, concern etched on her face as she crouched down to assist.

Jeonghan, however, had other thoughts. “Is this a prank?” he asked, his eyes scanning the room suspiciously.

“Ya!” Luna scolded him, elbowing him lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you hurt?” she asked again, her attention back on the staff member.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan finally asked.

“Is this a test? To see if we’ll help?” Dokyeom chimed in, a curious look on his face.

[They watched too much YouTube]

“Are you okay?” Hoshi asked the staff as he helped clean the floor, throwing away the coffee cups. 

The members all pitched in, cleaning up the mess without a second thought. Dokyeom moved the tray out of the room, shaking his head as he glanced back at Jeonghan, chuckling. “You think this is a prank? You’re unbelievable.”

Wonwoo chuckled softly, finding the whole situation amusing. “We all thought it was a prank right away.”

“It’s because there are cameras in the room,” Luna pointed out, gathering the blankets on the floor.

“Jeonghan, you’re unbelievable,” Hoshi echoed, still chuckling.

“S.Coups keeps cleaning.” Seungkwan pointed out.

“I know. Why are you working so hard?” Dokyeom asked.

S.Coups, ever diligent, kept wiping the floor, working harder than anyone else. “I was the first to get up.” he announced.

[That's what it takes to be the leader of SEVENTEEN]

As the room settled back into calm after the brief commotion, the members exchanged glances and laughs. The day had been chaotic, but this was just a brief pause before the next round of madness. With their energy recharged, they prepared for whatever the next segment had in store.

[This is what SEVENTEEN does on their break]

[To be continued in Clip 2-2]

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[deansbeer]

✷ ◟ LAZY DAYS & LOADED TENSION ৎ᠀

library introduction minors do NOT interact!

SYNOPSIS. a lazy day with dean takes an unexpected turn when the tension ignites into an intense, passionate moment between you.

WARNING(S). heated make out session | f!reader | grinding | telepathic!reader | playful banter | ass squeezing (?) | domestic fluff | best friends to lovers / idiots in love trope | reader's a HUGE britney spears fan | older!dean | movie date | mentions of the DEAN CAVE | mentions of a gun | filthy semi-smut.

KARI'S 🗒️ NOTES. this was all heavily inspired by bree's & nat's lil monster <3 who i oh so love sososo much❗️get ready for some actual smut between these two on dean's bday (JAN 24) so for the next three days u will only be getting the cutesy awkward stuff (except for this one).

it's a lazy day in the bunker, one of those rare moments where the world outside seems to pause, letting you all take a breath. sam had gone out for his usual morning run, leaving dean behind, who you know is likely at the table cleaning his guns. bolt is curled up in his crate by your nightstand, fast asleep, his little nose twitching occasionally as he dreams.

you, on the other hand, are in your own little world. britney spears' gimme more is blasting through your earbuds, taking you somewhere far from the dimly lit bunker. your feet are bare, toenails painted a soft baby pink, and you're swaying to the music as you tidy up your cluttered room. you're wearing light blue high-waisted mom jeans, slightly loose around the ankles but hugging your hips perfectly, and a white baby tee with nothing underneath. the cool air in the room makes it so your nipples peek through the thin fabric, but you don't care—it's just you, after all.

your hair is set in pink plastic rollers, bouncing slightly as you move around, shimmying your hips to the beat of the song. you're lost in the lyrics, mouthing along as you pick up bottles of hair products, tossing them into a little basket by your tiny vanity.

the door to your room is open, but you don't think much of it. it's just dean here, and he's doing his own thing. you spin around slightly, half-dancing as you grab another bottle of mousse from your bed, when you feel it—a slight rub against your hip.

your body freezes, your heart jumping into your throat. instinct kicks in immediately, and you yank the earbuds out of your ears, the sound of britney's voice cutting off abruptly. your hand flies to the drawer of your tiny vanity where dean's gun sits, the weight of it familiar in your hands as you whip around, aiming it at whoever—or whatever—is behind you.

"whoa, whoa! easy there, sweetheart!"

the voice is low and familiar, and it takes you a second to realize it's dean. his hands are up in mock surrender, a calm look on his face as he steps closer, gently lowering the gun in your trembling hand.

"dean!" you scold, your voice coming out in a mix of relief and irritation. "what the fuck? you scared the crap out of me!"

he smirks, clearly amused by your reaction, though there's a softness in his eyes that lets you know he didn't mean to startle you. "sorry. didn't think you'd pull a gun on me."

you huff, setting the weapon on your vanity as you glare at him. "what do you want?"

he shrugs, leaning casually against the vanity like he doesn't have a care in the world. "finished cleaning my guns. thought we could watch a movie or something."

you cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "you interrupted my britney spears concert for a movie?"

he chuckles at that, the sound low and warm. "yeah, well, figured you could use a break from… whatever this is." he gestures vaguely to the rollers in your hair and the half-empty bottles of hair and makeup products scattered around your room.

you roll your eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "fine, but give me a minute. i need to take these out and clean up."

"don't take too long," he says, pushing off the vanity and heading out the door and over to the dean cave.

once he's gone, you shake your head in amusement, pulling the rollers out one by one. your hair falls into soft, bouncy curls, the kind that make you feel like you've stepped straight out of an '80s movie. you run your fingers through them, fluffing them up a bit as you glance at yourself in the mirror. satisfied, you clean up the rest of the mess in your room before heading out, walking barefoot down the hall toward the dean cave.

you walk on your tiptoes, your curls bouncing with each step as you run a hand through them, feeling lighter than you have in days. when you step into the dean cave, you stop short, your mouth falling open slightly.

dean has gone all out.

the coffee table is covered in snacks—your favorite peanut m&ms, kettle corn popcorn, and a glass of wine poured into one of the fancy glasses you love so much. there's beer for him, of course, and a few of his own snacks off to the side. the couch has been replaced with a new, large u-shaped one, big enough for the two of you to sprawl out comfortably.

he's already sitting there, legs propped up on the coffee table, a beer in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in his lap. his other arm is draped casually across the back of the couch, and when he sees you standing in the doorway, his lips curl into a smug smirk.

"what do you think?" he asks, his voice teasing but with an undertone of pride.

you shake your head, a giddy laugh escaping your lips as you walk over to him. "you really know how to spoil a girl, winchester."

"only the best for you, sweetheart," he says, his tone half-joking but his eyes soft as they follow your movements.

you sit down beside him, tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for your glass of wine. the two of you settle in, the movie starting up on the screen as you sip your drink and munch on popcorn.

a few minutes in, you realize you've unconsciously gravitated toward him, your shoulder brushing against his as you lean against the couch. his arm stays where it is, draped across the back, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder.

and then, somehow, everything shifts.

you're not sure how it happens, but one moment you're watching the movie, and the next you're straddling him, your fingers tangled in his flannel as his hands grip your hips.

his lips crash against yours, the kiss messy and desperate, all teeth and tongue as the two of you lose yourselves in each other. your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his t-shirt, while his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing firmly as you grind against him.

the friction is almost too much, denim against denim creating a delicious pressure that has you moaning into his mouth. his tongue tangles with yours, the kiss growing more heated by the second, and you can feel the slight scruff of his beard scraping against your skin in a way that only makes you want him more.

your breathing is heavy, your lips swollen as you pull back for a moment, but his hands keep you in place, his grip firm but not rough.

"you're so beautiful, baby, so fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire.

you don't respond—not with words, at least. instead, you crash your lips against his again, pouring everything you’ve been holding back into the kiss.

saliva drips down your chins from the intensity of it all, but neither of you care. all that matters is this moment, the weight of his hands on your body, the taste of him on your tongue, and the way he's making you feel like you're the only thing in the world that matters.

and for now, that's enough.

SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @lustagel @rafespreciosa @jasvtsc @voidsuites . . . ☆

[moonsaver]

I cant stop thinking about being a possible singer from the Iris Family?? Their family is usually responsible for the major "talent" productions that practically are responsible for the entertainment... also Siobhan as hints to what the Iris family would be like.

-

You were a singer.

Barely a singer, to be fair.

It was for the sake of your little compartment of a family. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you scraped out every last bit of your talents. The one which seems to be lasting the longest, seems to be singing.

You did what you had to. You sang until your throat was raw and hurt, practiced day and night until your ears were sick of your own voice, passed through every elimination tests that were conducted – all so you could have a stabilized, bolted place in the Iris Family, if it meant you and your parents and siblings weren't kicked out.

And, you weren't the best. And certainly not as good as Robin – the gem of the Oak Family. It was ironic, but it didn't matter. Not to you. As long as it kept your family secure, you endured. The comparisons, the hushed, barely pleased audience as they only took your performance as stalling time for the "real stars" of the show, the side-glances all of your other relatives threw your way. It was fine. You told yourself so. It was fine as long as you, your parents and your siblings were secured.

Risks weren't an option for you. Not when you had too much to lose.

-

Sunday has learned to appreciate frequency over output.

Times where schedules had to be rearranged last minute, performances strained and announcements elongated to squeeze out any extra amount of coverage for a missing show, routine dismantled and put together in real time as the neverending perfect show went on.

In all of those times, Sunday kept a usual eye on everyone. Their names, roles, status, popularity, preferences. And most importantly – their reliability.

You were an average performer. But your reliability was notable to Sunday. Oftentimes he found himself looking for you first and foremost for an improvised concert, whenever things even threatened to go awry. He knew perhaps you obliged out of self-interest or a simple fear of upsetting The Head of the Oak Family, but you were reliable in your own way. A simple glance your way and a nod was enough to signal you for advance preparation for improvisation, repeated song lyrics at the tip of your tongue.

If you were lucky, sometimes Sunday would repay you by scheduling you for an opening performance for a small-time event, or letting you in on the recent trends, the general public opinion towards your show, or even drop some personal hints for you to improve.

That was all you were. A reliable stand-in for when there were a disarray of clarity, disagreements upon disagreements, confusion stagnating the scheduling.

-

Until, you became so much more in a simple moment of disillusion.

A break is in order, Sunday believes. He clicks his pen continuously, the sound echoing in the vast space of the room, bouncing off of the sterile, empty walls.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

5 times.

Click.

6 times.

Sunday's restless mind comes to a small halt when he inhales sharply, constraining his fingers. His shaking hand gently places the pen onto the flat, neatly organized desk, back where it belongs. He rests his chin on his hands. Thinking and listing everything on his agenda for the day.

A tandem of knocks resound from the smooth wooden surface of the door.

"Mr. Sunday?"

Ah. It's you.

He supposes his asisstants and servants don't realize he's noticed the recent pattern as of late. Whenever something changes in the schedule that could possibly threaten to dampen his mood or displease him, they send you in as some sort of collateral. He's gotten used to your presence enough to not mind it.

"Come in."

Short, quick clicks of your heels accompany the entering of your figure into the room. Your front is warmly illuminated by the yellow lighting of the room.

"Changes have been decided within the schedule again."

"As expected."

He gets up from the leather chair with a subtle creak, the steps of his shoes muffled by the carpet. He walks around his table, fingers trailing across the ridges of the masterfully crafted desk.

"Can I ask a favor of you, as always?"

"Of course."

His wings slightly flutter, pleased at the response. You can tell, despite his back facing you.

His fingers trail and come to a slow halt at the edge of the desk. His index finger taps on the surface.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

5 times.

Ah, you think. He's anxious.

"Mr. Sunday?"

"Hm?"

His finger stops, you note.

"I've heard guests have taken more to berry-flavored items as of late."

He chuckles a bit, softly.

"There's an uprising trend. Berry-flavored items have been on the rise, and as such, food follows."

Sunday half theorizes it could be due to the recent intreview Robin had. Strawberry flavored lipgloss was something she mentioned in particular.

"Ah. I see. So I suppose those colors may also influence the recent fashion trends?"

Sunday hums, in thought.

The moment is interrupted by an abrupt knock at the door.

"Mr. Sunday, there's a few tasks that need your approval to go ahead."

The male asisstant's voice resounds confidently through the previously quiet room. Sunday looks over at you and nods. You turn to take your leave. You can only hope it was enough of a reprieve for him.

-

"It seems fashion trends are inspired, aswell."

Sunday mentions, standing beside you. His eyes are watchful, analyzing the current performance from behind the curtains.

"I see."

You respond. Making conversation was not your strongsuit. Sunday smiles slightly at your awkwardness.

He continued the conversation after a few moments, talking about color palettes, scents, and general observable trends. Your usual,basic gowns and dresses will now see a noticeable change, due to Sunday's suggestions.

He admits, even at times, he looks forward to them. Sometimes, as foolish as it sounds, he slips in a mix of his own personal opinion, thinly disguised as the "general preference", which manages to then take presidence over your usual pick of gowns. He won't admit it, but he secretly does enjoy sometimes "picking out" your outfits. It's never harmed anyone in the long run, and Sunday's personal theories of whichever color would look good on you are confirmed.

-

"May I ask.. what this is..?"

The artificial, blue light of the Dreamscape softly highlights Sunday's face, as he stands before you with a pleased look. The same, usual smile on his face.

"I believe incorporating a few gold accents into your palette may help."

You look at the black, velvet bag; the ends of it scrunched into a closure. Your fingers gently pry it open and meddle around a bit, before they pull out a single, gold earring. It glimmers wonderfully under the soft, blue light. There's a flower at the very top with an encrusted diamond, from which a long, elegant thread of gold dangles, ending into a small golden stalk.

You curiously examine it, slightly dangling it to inspect the weight and movement of the accessory.

Sunday walks toward you with a few, short strides, and holds out his hand.

You look at his open, gloved palm, then him.

You inhale deeply, before taking off your current earrings and placing them onto his hand, and gently replacing their former stations with the new earrings. Sunday places your previous earrings into the velvet bag, and glances at your ears, then you.

"Consider it a.. company gift."

How fanciful.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Sunday's eyes linger on your ears, then trail down to the junction of your jaw. His eyes close as his smiles widens slightly.

To be fair, he wanted more.

‐

Sunday has been getting closer to you as of late.

Because you wouldn't imagine ever being this close in proximity to Robin of all people.

Her lips are glossy with a strawberry tint, and her eyes are a beautiful lake green, you note. You also take note of the fact she's much more warmer and approachable than she is appeared to be on digital surfaces.

Both of you engage in polite conversation, her taking the lead, noticing your awkwardness. She's sweet, and understanding. She discusses general things regarding singing and songwriting. You take her for a very warm individual. It's no wonder she's a well-liked popstar. Talent alone can take you so far.

What you also wouldn't imagine is her managing to entangle you within her daily affairs. She leads you to private rooms, asks for advice on outfits, practice, and all sorts of things, despite the contrast of your styles almost bizzare, you oblige anyway.

And it's almost brazenly obvious she's trying to get you and Sunday to spend more time alone outside of work.

It's of no coincidence that she suddenly has to leave and take care of a few things or shuffle around a bit outside whenever Sunday manages to pop in and check up on you two. It wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if for the fact, Sunday's eyes are always lingering on your ears.

Once, he'd taken note that you'd been wearing them more often to your performances and shows. It can't be helped – you've gained more popularity and as a result, keener eyes inspect your choice of practically everything. Including your earrings. Your fans aren't hesitant to point out how exquisite and specific the craftsmanship of your earrings are, and it's not long before your fans have understood it was gifted to you. By who, became the newest sensation regarding you. Petty rumors were incriminating, but you suppose if it brought you more fans, it was enough.

Sunday chuckles softly when you briefly touch on the subject.

It wasn't long before he'd gotten you another pair as a result.

You only worry about paying him back, more and more.

‐

There are a plethora of thorns on Sunday's side. Many, of which the public, and many members of the Oak Family aren't privy to.

One of them was currently busy darkening his doorstep;

The IPC.

Or rather specifically – Aventurine.

What he wasn't expecting, was for you to be an exclusive invitee to his mischief.

You were rather in an unlucky spot. You had always considered your luck to be rusty, having struggled so much just for average recognition and a barely tangible career that's keeping your family afloat.

On top of that, you were being heavily persuaded by Aventurine, who was persistent in his offer to you. His desperation was more than obvious, like a nervous dog waiting for the bone toss, holding you in place with a firm grip on your arm. It didn't help that he'd forced his way into your hotel room aswell.

And Sunday just witnessed the pinnacle of this forsaken deal.

...

"Aventurine."

"Mr. Sunday."

After a beat of silence, you pathetically try to step in,

"This–"

"I see you've taken to familiarizing with my employees."

Sunday's smile remains well plastered on his face. Aventurine only smiles back.

"I was actually in the middle of striking a deal. There's always opportunities in the best of places, right?" Aventurine side-eyes you. You shrink back a bit.

"My employees are unfortunately off-limits to contracts from unauthorized branches. I look for your understanding in this.. complicated form of approach."

You watch Aventurine's smile strain. Sunday continues.

"Perhaps, if you are in need of a singer, I may direct you to an appropriate employee from the Iris Family to search for someone."

"That won't be necessary. I wasn't looking for a singer. You don't think that's all they're talented at, do you?"

Sunday's eyes slightly sharpen at him. Aventurine's smile becomes more genuine.

"Oh, you've positively ruined the mood. I guess it's just not my lucky day, and it looks like I'm not getting a deal with you anytime soon."

Aventurine's eyes hone in on you. You stand stiffly, your arm tense from the uncertainty your body feels physically.

His grip loosens, languidly. You'd think he was doing it slowly on purpose if not to tick off Sunday more.

"I'll take my leave, then."

Aventurine breezes past Sunday, rounding the corner of the door. He casts one last glance to you as the turns.

His footsteps echo down the hallway. As soon as they fade, Sunday's smile drops slightly.

"Are you perhaps.. unhappy with your current circumstances?"

‐

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Not Without Me (part 3)

Part 1, part 2

Jason was still absolutely furious, and grieving about what had happened with Bruce, despite Danny’s best efforts to comfort and look after him. The Joker’s death had helped a lot but there were so many other villains out there, and now with the knowledge that Bruce would never change Jason’s thoughts turned to Tim. The new Boy Wonder, going out night after night and putting himself in danger for the sake of adults who Should know better! Leading the Teen Titans and Still working with Batman, when did the fucking kid sleep?!

What was it going to take for everyone to realize he shouldn’t be out on the field?! Maybe an argument could be made for some of the more powerful teen heroes like Superboy, but Tim was Just a teenager! A super smart one sure but he could get hurt so easily, he could die just like Jason had. Was it going to take a serious injury to show them what a bad idea it was? 

And maybe a part of Jason did blame Tim, not for his death obviously, but for taking Robin from him when it had been his pride and joy. It had meant everything to him, and it seemed like between the original Boy Wonder and the new genius boy Jason had nearly been forgotten. 

So no he wasn’t thinking particularly logically when he got ready to go to Titan’s tower, and the closest thing he had to a plan was to get Robin alone and beat the shit out of him until he agreed to put the suit back in the memorial case where it belonged! The anger spiraled up and out as Jason prepared to leave, working himself up into a cold, green tinged fury.

He hadn’t told Danny what he was planning to do, and he hadn’t on purpose. Danny was loyal and sometimes almost too submissive, but Jason seriously doubted his boyfriend would let him do this. Maybe that ever-permissive Danny would have stopped him should have been a sign to Jason he really Shouldn’t, but he was not thinking logically in that moment. His blood was rushing in his ears, which was probably why he didn’t notice someone else was there until the door slammed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Danny demanded and Jason looked up to see him standing in front of the door, arms crossed and legs planted staring Jason down. His head was lifted and there was a stubborn set to his jaw that Jason Hated seeing because it meant Danny was not backing down. Alright, he hated seeing it directed at him, when Danny directed this at other people Jason thought it was hot as hell.

“Out,” Jason practically snarled, slinging his bag over his shoulder and stomping towards the door in the vain hope that Danny would get out of his way.

“Like hell you are, not till you tell me Where you’re going worked up like this! What happened?” Danny demanded, and did not move an inch. When Jason got too close and tried to push past Danny he grabbed Jason and pushed him back hard. It was easy to forget how Strong he was.

“Don’t fucking touch me right now,” Jason snarled at Danny who stepped forward, infuriatingly fearless. 

“Or what? You’ll hurt me? Good, then we can actually have a productive conversation about this.” Danny accused, jabbing a finger against Jason’s chest. 

Jason grabbed Danny’s wrist without even thinking and twisted, throwing Danny over his shoulder and to the floor. He tried to bolt towards the door but felt a hand around his ankle and fell heavily as well. He’d only managed to roll over onto his back before Danny was on top of him, his own sharp teeth bared in fury. “You’re not running away from me, Jason!” He hissed as Jason struggled under him, still with just barely the presence of mind to be trying to get Away! If he started fighting Danny, or beating him properly there was no way Jason would be able to stop until he’d tired himself out and wouldn’t Want to go after Tim anymore.

Danny wasn’t going to let go though, and Jason’s eyes widened behind his mask when Danny lunged down, his teeth clamped down on Jason’s shoulder, tearing through his shirt and into his flesh easily. He howled and flipped them both over, the pain and perceived threat of someone near his vulnerable throat finally making him lose control. 

By the time the green retreated from Jason’s vision again his knuckles were bloody and bruised. He was breathing heavily and his shoulders ached, and not just where Danny had bit him but the muscle ache of exertion. Under him Danny panted, eyes closed tight and bruises still fading slowly from his skin under Jason’s stunned gaze. 

He pulled off his helmet and cupped Danny’s face with gentle hands. Danny opened his eyes again and looked up at Jason, eyes bloodshot and suspicious. Jason gave him a small smile and Danny relaxed, smiling back and lifting his arms to drape them around Jason’s shoulders, they were heavy, Jason could practically see that fatigue dripping off of Danny. He kissed his boyfriend gently and sweetly, peppering feather light kisses over any lingering bruises as Danny gave a soft, happy sigh. 

“I need a bath,” Danny murmured softly. Even though the wounds healed the soreness lingered sometimes, baths helped, even if there wasn’t blood down Danny’s face and staining the collar of his shirt. Jason must have given him a bloody nose a few times over.

“Of course,” Jason murmured and got up off of Danny, helping him to his feet before scooping Danny up in a bridal carry. He was light, Jason’s arms weren’t too tired to carry his lover. In the bathroom Jason set Danny down on the counter and kissed him again softly before putting the plug in the tub and started the water running. He grabbed a dark coloured cloth and wet it before handing it to Danny so he could clean the worst of the blood off his face.

Out of habit he turned to leave, Danny still hadn’t let Jason see him with his shirt off so when he bathed he did it alone. But not this time it seemed, Danny grabbed Jason’s arm before he could leave the room, eyes wide and a little panicky. Shit, Jason didn’t mean to upset him! Did Danny still think Jason would try to sneak away once he was out of sight?

“No, please stay,” Danny said softly, looking like he might cry which was a knife in Jason’s heart honestly. 

“Of Course I’ll stay, I just thought-, I mean you’re not going to bathe with your shirt on,” He said, trying to make a joke as he stepped forward to wrap his arms around Danny. For the moment he’d almost forgotten why he was angry before, they’d have to talk about it soon but taking care of Danny came first.

“Well, no, but I don’t want to be alone right now and you’re going to have to see the scars eventually anyway. I just don’t like looking at them, or thinking about them really, but… ya.” Danny sighed and leaned back, finally stripping off his shirt as Jason braced himself, then carefully controlled his reaction and pushed down his nausea. 

Danny’s scars were… extensive. They didn’t make Jason sick because they were unattractive of course, far from it, but because of the story they told. There was the lichtenberg scar Danny had shown him before, branching up his arm and curling over his chest, but that was probably the least disturbing. The most were the surgical wounds. Straight and clear forming a pronounced Y on Danny’s chest and abdomen, there were straight ones down both of his arms, and a vertical one up the front of his throat, though that one was just slightly less pronounced to the point it could be missed on first glance, out of contact with the rest of This.

Jason knew Danny didn’t scar easily, even when Jason had stabbed him in the shoulder the wound had not scarred. How bad, how extensive, how Deep had these wounds been, that they scarred like that?

Jason realized he was staring, and Danny was looking at him with concern slowly transitioning into panic. Jason stepped closer, leaning against the counter between Danny’s legs when he opened them for him, resting his hands on Danny’s soft hips. He pressed his lips against Danny’s forehead, hearing it as Danny let out a shuddering breath he must have been holding. 

“I just… wish that hadn’t happened to you Danny. And I really wish it wasn’t taking so long for my hackers and agents to find out Where the other GIW bases are, I want to tear those people apart,” He said. He could feel the Pits stirring just slightly inside him, though they were too spent to really react right now. 

“I could probably find them myself if I tried, but honestly I’m scared. I’m not sure I’m ready to face them again,” Danny said softly and Jason sighed.

“I get that Danny, it’s okay,” He promised. He wanted to blow up those bases ASAP, especially since they might be hurting other people, but he couldn’t Force Danny. Hopefully his people would find out more soon and Jason might be able to handle it on his own, maybe with some help from old friends.

The bath had finished running so Jason turned away from Danny to turn it off while he undressed the rest of the way. Jason gave him a hand to steady him as Danny stepped into the water and sank down into it with a sigh. Jason sat beside the tub, leaning against the edge and holding one of Danny’s hands as he relaxed. He’d wash off the remainder of the blood when he was ready to get out so he wouldn’t be soaking in bloody water till then. 

“So, where were you headed That upset?” Danny asked, watching Jason with half lidded eyes. 

“You know, one of these days I’m actually going to be going to do something time sensitive and you stopping me like that is going to cause problems,” Jason grumbled without heat. He knew he was a liability at times when his rage really took over and needed Danny with him then more than ever. Danny knew it too judging by the disbelieving huff he gave Jason in response. “I was… not being rational, I was freaking out about the new Robin.

“He’s just a kid like I was, I don’t want him to die,” Jason muttered, crossing his arms over the edge of the tub and resting his chin on them.

“So what were you planning to do? Kidnap him?” Danny asked calmly.

Jason avoided his gaze. 

“Jason… you weren’t planning to hurt him were you?” Danny asked, and his disappointment was cutting and gentle. Jason’s shame was deep and heavy, making him shrink into himself.

“I thought maybe if I showed him how dangerous it was, how easily he could die he might Want to stop,” Jason muttered, barely audibly. 

“You DID die and nearly the first thing you did once you came back was hop back into costume! Do you really think that would stop him when it didn’t stop you?! He doesn’t seem like he’s any less stubborn,” Danny accused him.

Jason groaned and buried his face in his arms, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. He was right of course, Jason had been being an idiot, driven by emotion and the blood rushing in his ears. He should have talked to Danny about this ages ago. “No, it wouldn’t have stopped him. So what do we do?” Jason asked, his voice muffled. 

He felt Danny’s other hand in his hair and leaned in to the soothing touch a little, letting him card his fingers through Jason’s hair. “I know you’re not going to like this Jason, but I don’t think we can make him stop.” Danny said softly and Jason let out a sound that was half a groan and half a growl. “He won’t stop for pain, if we kidnap him we won’t be able to keep him and drawing that much attention to ourselves would definitely be a mistake. We can’t make him stop, but we can probably help him.”

Jason hummed and peaked at Danny who was gazing into the middle distance thoughtfully. “Danny? What are you thinking?” Jason asked a little warily. 

“What did you need when you were Robin? What would have made you stop?” Danny asked, looking back down at Jason. 

It was his turn to fall silent, thinking deeply about that question. He sighed and shifted, leaning his back against the edge of the tub and stretching his legs out in front of him. He tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling in contemplation. “Someone.. Who would support me unconditionally. Bruce didn’t Make me be Robin, but a lot of the time it felt like it was the only way I could get his attention. Being rewarded for Not going out… help?” He said with a vague little gesture of his free hand.

“Can we try to do that for him? If we can get in contact with him we can offer him support, places to hide if he needs a break from Bruce, help with homework? Whatever he needs. At first he’ll probably take advantage of that as an opportunity to spy on us, but as long as we’re careful about it, that could be our in,” Danny suggested.

“What would I do without you,” Jason sighed, looking at Danny with his damn heart in his eyes as Danny gave him a fond but sardonic smile. 

“Apparently, nearly beat a teenager to death,” Danny said and Jason groaned, his head thunking back against the side of the tub.

“How long is it going to take for you to let that go?” He asked preemptively. 

“Never,” Danny replied blithely. “I will bring it up every time I need to remind you Why you need to talk to me before doing something drastic.” 

Jason groaned again, but he definitely deserved that.

--------

Instead of breaking into Titan Tower to fight Tim, Jason broke in to leave him a note in his room.

Hey Timmy (A.K.A. Replacement)

I know I’ve made a pretty damn terrible first impression but I want you to know that it’s not you I’m mad at. I understand wanting to be Robin, I loved the role more than anything before it killed me, and even though I don’t want any more dead kids I don’t think I can make you give it up. 

But you know it’s dangerous, we both do. If you ever get in over your head, you need a place to hide, get in over your head in a fight? Hell, you need help with your homework. I'm really good with English and Hyena knows more than anyone I’ve met about Astronomy.  

If the old man is with you we won’t let you in, but if You need anything you can call me, or come to the Alley. As long as you’re alone you are welcome, and I swear on my own grave no one will hurt you.

Red Hood

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[chinesehanfu]

[Hanfu · 漢服]Chinese immortal Hanfu <电母/Mother of Lightning> Based On Yuan Dynasty Taoist Temple Mural<永乐宫/Yongle Palace>

【Historical Artifacts Reference 】:▶ China Yuan Dynasty Taoist Temple 永乐宫/Yongle Palace Mural<电母/Mother of Lightning>

⚡【电母/Mother of Lightning】⚡

电母/Dianmu (Chinese: 電母; pinyin: Diànmǔ; lit. 'Mother of Lightning'), also known as Leizi, is the Chinese goddess of lightning, who is said to have used flashing mirrors to send bolts of lightning across the sky.

She is married to Leigong/雷公, the god of thunder. She is one of the gods who work together to produce the phenomena of thunder. Other companions are Yun Tong (Yún Tóng, 云童, lit. the "Cloud Youth/Kid"), who whips up clouds, and Yu Shi/雨师 ("Rain Master") who causes downpours by dipping his sword into a pot. Roaring winds rush forth from a type of goatskin bag manipulated by Fengbo/风伯 ("Earl of Wind/Wind Uncle"), who was later transformed into Feng Po Po ("Old Lady Wind").

Legend

Dianmu was once a human, who lived with her mother. One day, she was dumping rice husks, because they were too hard for her mother to eat. When the short-tempered thunder god Leigong saw her dumping the husks out, he thought she was wasting food, so he killed her. When the Jade Emperor found out, he was infuriated at Leigong's careless murder. The Jade Emperor revived Dianmu, making her a goddess. Dianmu was made to marry Leigong, who took on the responsibility of caring for her. Dianmu's job is now to work with Lei Gong. She uses mirrors to shine light on the Earth, so Leigong can see who he hits and makes sure they aren't innocent. This is why lightning comes before thunder.

In other depictions

Dianmu also appears in Wu Cheng'en's late 16th-century novel, the Journey to the West; she appears during the events of the Slow Cart Kingdom (車遲國, Chechi), where three 'Animal Strength/Power Immortals', "Tiger Strength", "Deer/Elk Strength" and "Goat/Antelope Strength", three demons who disguised themselves as Taoist magicians to deceive the King of the Kingdom of Chechi, by means of having ended a seemingly-endless drought through the means of a legitimate magic tablet that can control the weather by summoning gods in control of various aspects of the weather, including Dianmu, accompanied by Yún Tóng (云童, lit. the "Cloud Youth"). Once Sun Wukong interrupts the summons, Dianmu and her fellow weather deities help the Buddhists instead of the demons in their rain-making competition.

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📸Photography post-production :@小何力

👗Hanfu & 👑Crown：@雁鸿Aimee

💄 Makeup：百丽 （临溪摄影）

👭Model：@清音音音音

🔗 Weibo:https://weibo.com/1615560544/O267AzTqM

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[supercap2319]

Rafe was the king of the Kooks. Y/N was just a Pogue, but Rafe's sister, Sarah, invited him to a party they were having. Rafe spotted the Pogue by the kegs. "Who the hell invited you here, Pogue?" The other Kooks looked at them, waiting to see what Rafe would do. Sarah rolled her eyes. Rafe was always such an asshole.

"Sarah did." Y/N said.

The Kook's eyes narrowed, his muscular frame crossing his arms over his chest, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. "Figures." He muttered, his eyes scanning Y/N up and down, taking in his Pogue attire. "You better not cause any trouble."

"I'm not. Just chilling here, bro." He smiled. Rafe scoffed, unfolding his arms and taking a swig of his beer. "Bro?" He mocked, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're about as much of a bro as a seagull is a raven."

"Well, they both are birds and they fly." He shrugged.

Taking another swig, Rafe, steps closer, his tall frame towering over him. "Yeah, and which one flies a lot higher and makes the others look basic as fuck? Exactly." He emphasizes 'basic' with an extra smirk ."True. But a raven will chase the fuck out of any bird that fucks with their territory. Including the higher flying Seagull." Y/N smirks.

Rafe's eyes light up with a mixture of surprise and respect at his response. "Damn, you actually got a decent comeback." He takes another swig of his beer, leaning against the railing next to Y/N. "Maybe you're not as much of a Pogue as I thought."

"Maybe you're more than a spoiled Kook." He smiled at Rafe.

Rafe snorts, pushing himself off the railing and turning to face you. "Spoiled Kook? You think being a Kook is any better? We're just as fucked up as you lot, just with more money and better hair products." He runs a hand through his slicked-back hair. "Is that why you always wear a snapback?" Y/N asked.

Rafe's hand freezes mid-air, then slowly lowers as a smirk spreads across his face. "You're a real little shit, aren't you? I like that." He steps closer, invading his personal space. "And for the record, I wear snapbacks because I can."

"I see." Y/N takes another drink of frothy beer from a red solo cup. Rafe watches Y/N drink, an intense look in his eyes "You know what? For a Pogue, you've got some balls. Most of you would've already bolted." He leans in slightly "What's your name again?"

"Y/N."

"Y/N." Rafe repeats, testing the name out on his tongue. "Y/N the Pogue." He chuckles to himself, taking another swig of his beer. "Y/N, you got a girlfriend?"

"Nope. This basic Raven is flying sole." Max grins. "You?"

Rafe scoffs, throwing his head back and laughing. "Basic Raven, huh? I like you, Y/N." He sets his beer down on the railing and turns his full attention to the Pogue. "As for a girlfriend, I've got a few on the side, but nothing serious."

"Well, I'd expect nothing less from the king of the Kooks."

Said king grins mischievously, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Damn straight, Y/N. I'm the king, after all." He pauses, then asks. "Ever hooked up with a Kook, Y/N?"

"A few. Not that they'd ever admit to it. "Makes it more raunchy. Knowing you're sleeping with your enemy. Gets your rocks off faster." Y/N said.

"Damn, Y/N. You're a piece of work, you know that?" Rafe grins mischievously. "So, hypothetically speaking...If we were to hook up, would it be a one-time thing, or would you keep coming back for more?"

"Depends. How good the sex will be?"

"Challenge accepted." Rafe murmurs, his voice low. He steps closer, so that they're nearly chest to chest. "I've got somewhere private we could go."

"Lead the way, handsome." Y/N smiles.

[hairyjocktf]

A Hairy Remedy

Mark had been pacing back and forth all afternoon, waiting for the mail to arrive. He couldn’t focus on anything else, he’d been waiting weeks for this delivery and it was scheduled to arrive today. Every noise from outside had him rushing to the windows to peek through the blinds. Mark was nearly 30, yet looked barely 20. He’d endured a decade of people making fun of him for having a babyface or being too effeminate, and he’d had enough. After some research online he found some articles and testimonies about Rogaine, a hair growth cream aimed at guys who were balding. While that was the furthest thing from a problem for him, Mark found people on some forums that had used it elsewhere, who wanted to thicken up their beards and more. The before and after pictures he had seen had sold him, and he immediately went and ordered some online. 

He took a break from mindlessly pacing around to use the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror really illustrated how right his bullies had been. His skin was completely smooth, with barely any peach fuzz on his face. That would change soon, he thought, a beard would surely age him up a good bit. Not that he wanted to look old, but not being carded at every bar would be nice. The doorbell rang, and Mark tripped over himself trying to bolt to the front door. Yanking it open, he saw a small package on the mat, with the delivery van already speeding off. He quickly snatched up the box and slammed the door, giddy with excitement. Mark raced to the kitchen to grab the scissors, shredding the cardboard box open to reveal his prize. He held the tube of cream delicately in his palm like it was a newborn. This was it, his saving grace, he thought.

He quickly scanned the pamphlet that came with the cream, notably reading the line, “WARNING: This product has NOT been tested on areas outside of the scalp. We do not recommend usage anywhere besides the scalp, and cannot guarantee results.” Eh, he’d seen it work on guys online, it must be safe enough. Without further thought Mark dashed into the bathroom, staring at his pathetic reflection in the mirror. He felt a sense of power unlike anything before, knowing he held his fate in his hands. He nearly let out a comically evil laugh before realizing he was getting ahead of himself. It was just hair growth medication.

Mark opened the tube and squeezed some of the cream into his palm. Now was time for decisions. He probably should have thought this part through a little more, but no matter, he thought. He began to rub the cream into his face, making sure to stay in the lines of where a beard would grow. Starting with his upper lip, he massaged the cream into his bare skin, working from there down to his chin and then across his cheeks. The ointment was cool and tingled a little as he applied it. Despite his caution, while getting the underside of his jaw he heard a splatter. 

Looking down, he saw a white glob of the cream had fallen directly onto his chest. “Shit, that’s not good,” he cursed to himself. He grabbed a nearby towel before pausing. A smirk spread across Mark’s face as the thought dawned on him. Why not leave it? A little chest hair couldn’t hurt, he thought. The goal was to look a little older anyway. With a devious grin plastered on his face he started to rub the cream into his chest, most of it between his small pecs and spreading it out from there. Satisfied with the treatment he capped the tube and went back to the living room. Now came the hard part: waiting. He went back to check the package to see how long it would take.

“Four to six MONTHS?!” he wailed. He hadn’t bothered to look at a timeline or anything in his research, and this news was devastating to him. He’d expected it to take a while to work, but half a year? That was just too long. With an overwhelming amount of disappointment in his head, Mark collapsed onto the couch and turned on some TV. The rest of the day faded away as he tried to distract himself from how bummed he was. He turned in fairly early, it was Sunday anyway and he had to get up early for work the next morning. With one last glance in the mirror he confirmed that nothing had happened, and went to bed. 

The morning came in an instant, with Mark’s phone alarm wailing into the quiet sunrise until he rolled out of bed. He begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom and started getting his shower ready when he passed by the mirror and did a double take. He stared at his reflection, dropping his towel on the floor in shock. He had stubble. Not just a little peach fuzz, no, a decent layer of it all across his jaw. His hand slowly moved to touch it, to make sure it was real. His fingers grazed over the tips of the scratchy hairs, the prickly feeling sending shivers through his body. It had worked, overnight even! His grin widened as he looked down to see a dusting of hair on his chest where he’d rubbed the cream. He had chest hair! It wasn’t particularly dark or dense but that didn’t matter to him, he actually looked like he’d gone through puberty now. The hairs had sprouted in the center of his chest and spread out towards his nipples, growing long enough to start curling a little. 

With a renewed energy Mark hopped in the shower and continued getting ready for work. He was giddy with excitement, and couldn’t stop feeling the rough stubble on his face. He threw on his slacks and button down shirt and hopped in his car, nearly late from getting distracted so much. Thoughts were racing through his mind on the way to the office; what would people think? He walked in with a swagger he’d never felt at his job before, making his way to his desk and hoping someone would comment. It took until he and some coworkers left to get lunch for anyone to notice, however.

“Hey Mark, growing out a beard are you? I didn’t think you had it in you,” his coworker laughed. “It looks good so far!” he made sure to follow it up with. Mark beamed, someone had noticed! It was really happening. This may have been the best day of his life for all he could care. Anytime he was in private he would have one hand on his cheek and one on his chest, feeling the soft hairs. He could feel his cock jump at the sensation, pushing against his rather tight dress pants. Luckily no one could see that at his desk, he thought, moving one hand to rub down there. A couple other people commented on his new facial hair throughout the day, and Mark was ecstatic. This feeling was electric, addictive almost, he loved the attention and slight amount of respect the stubble seemed to have given him.

Before he knew it the work day was over and Mark scrambled to pack up his belongings to try and beat the rush. In the elevator down he scratched at his face, another grin plastered across his face. He had the classic 5 o’clock shadow for the first time, he thought to himself with a chuckle. A hardworking businessman he was now. He got entirely caught up in the rush hour traffic, but even that couldn’t put a damper on his day. An hour later he was home, walking through the kitchen and dumping his coat and bag. He entered the bathroom to wash his hands and splash some water on his face when he spotted the tube of Rogaine still sitting on the vanity. Mark stared at it, the elated feelings of the day still fresh in his mind. A thought began creeping up from the back of his mind, one that scared him, but also made his cock lurch in his pants.

What if I put on a little more? 

That was the end of it. The idea consumed him, and within seconds he’d torn off his dress shirt and was squeezing more cream into his hands. He spread a thick layer of it across his upper lip, feeling the stubbly hairs that now dotted the area. He then spread more out across his cheeks, which had a decent shadow of stubble across them. Next up was his chest. In the morning he’d been thrilled by the amount of hair now adorning the area, but now he craved more. He pushed more cream from the tube and spread it over a much wider area, from his nipples all the way up to his collarbone, and everything in between. Finishing that up, he realized he’d gotten some extra cream all over his hands, which he rubbed in without a thought. 

The feeling of mania slowly dwindled as he put the cream away and carried on with his night. As he ate dinner he began to worry that he’d gone too far, maybe he should have just waited. It was too late now, though, so he bottled up that worry and watched some TV before getting ready for bed. 

Mark bolted upright when the alarm sounded the next morning. He tore off his sheets and ran to the mirror to take a look at himself.

It had worked again! His stubble was thicker now, with a more pronounced mustache. The hairs on his upper lip were denser and longer, though the rest of his facial hair had also filled in somewhat even if it was still short. But the real showstopper was his chest. The hairs had spread far from the day before, crawling up his pecs all the way where he spread the cream. The hair was thicker, denser, and made him feel exceedingly masculine. He couldn’t believe it. He ran a hand over the more prominent chest hair, the soft hairs tingling under his fingers. His cock rose to attention in his boxers as he lost himself briefly in the moment, unconsciously rubbing his nipple with the other hand. Control slipping away from him, Mark began to moan as he pinched his nipple, feeling the stubble and chest fur that had sprouted. Moments later a rush filled his body, his cock shooting rope after rope of cum onto the mirror. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, coming back to his senses. What the hell was that? It had felt amazing, but it was as if a primal instinct had taken over him. He watched the cum slide down the mirror for a minute before snapping fully back to reality; he had to get to work! He quickly wiped as much cum off the glass as he could before hopping in the shower and getting dressed. He bolted out the door without eating breakfast, having realized how late he was. Just how long had he been feeling himself in there? 

He parked and scrambled to an elevator inside. In his haste he’d forgotten to button his shirt up all the way, but he noticed in the mirror that some of his new chest hair peeked out of the top. It looked masculine, virile even. He played with a couple of the hairs before the door opened on his floor and he had to act natural. The day was fairly uneventful, other than a couple different coworkers commenting on his stubble and mustache. Mark felt even more confident today than he had yesterday, despite the chaotic morning. As afternoon rolled around, he even unbuttoned his shirt a little more, letting the newly grown hairs breathe. He lounged at his desk getting some of his work done but mostly basking in his newfound masculinity, occasionally sneaking a rub of his chest hair.

Soon enough the day was over again, and Mark made his way home. He was thrilled with how he was looking, but somehow he’d gotten less attention today than before. That didn’t sit right with him. While stuck in traffic he tried to figure it out, going through scenarios and situations from the day. Maybe… he thought he was making progress but in the eyes of others he looked the same. Frustrated, he barged through the door of his house and grabbed a beer from the fridge before landing on the couch. He turned on the TV and cracked it open, slowly sipping away at it as the light outside faded into dusk. Finishing that beer, he went for another, nursing it and watching some mediocre movies. Eventually the beers caught up to him, and having to pee badly he hopped up and went to the bathroom. There, on the counter, was the tube of Rogaine.

It seemed to burn a hole in his vision, everything else fading away. The feelings of the last day flooded back to him; the confidence of being hairy, the frustration of it not being enough, the pleasure of cumming to his own hairy body. Mark felt the same devilish thought clawing back into his head, but no longer as a question. It was a desire.

I need more.

He opened the tube again, squirting the cream directly onto his chest this time, slathering it all across his pecs and down over his stomach. He rubbed the cream deep into his already decently hairy chest, before taking more and coating his face with another layer. Mark was spreading far too much cream on, and from his jaw it began dripping down his neck. He couldn’t care less. His logical self had taken a backseat, his body being driven by a deep seated need, a desire he’d been unaware of. Mark stripped off the rest of his work clothes and kept at it. He continued to smear the cream across his torso, spreading it from his chest up and over his collarbone onto his shoulders. He was so engrossed in rubbing the cream into his skin that he was oblivious to the slight itch that began cropping up under the thick paste.

Mark wiped the excess cream onto his forearms and stared into the mirror, breaths ragged. He’d worked himself into a sweat. The droplets streamed down his skin, pulling the cream with it. His eyes surveyed his wet, ointment covered skin for anything. That was when he noticed the itch. It had grown stronger, more prevalent over his chest as the skin began reacting to the heavy dose of cream laid on. Hairs started to push out of his chest, darker and thicker than the ones before. They grew longer as more and more filled in the spaces between. Mark’s cock grew harder as he watched the hairs sprout, feeling them coming in between his fingers. The hairs thickened into a dark rug, completely coating his chest and crawling upward, thick whorls of hair overtaking his collarbone. His neck, which had been bare until now, began darkening as the shadow of hair crept up over it. Long strands erupted from the base, continuing the chest hair up onto his neck; no collar would ever hide these dark hairs. His stubble crept down from his jaw to meet in the middle, growing darker and pushing out farther from his face. His nicely trimmed stubble was quickly becoming a scruffy mess, with the wiry beard hairs erupting all over his face. Mark used his tongue to feel the longer hairs pushing out of his upper lip, curling over and spreading over his cheeks. He was really tenting his boxers now.

The hairs began moving south, down from his chest in a line towards his navel. The thick line of fur blossomed outward across his belly, darkening the area with long tangled hairs that blotted out the skin. Mark rubbed his hand over the growing fur, groaning from the stimulation of the hairs under his hand. Without thinking he reached back for the tube of Rogaine, pushing more out into his hands before absolutely coating his pits in the stuff. He scratched and scratched as the itch spread from his chest there, looking like a monkey as near instantly thick black hairs shot out of his bare underarms. One after another they pressed out, his fingers clawing through a denser and denser bush. Soon enough they’d overwhelmed the area with a thick tuft of tangled hair, spreading even further to connect with the rug on his chest. Mark was overcome by the tingling feeling of hairs bursting from his skin, surrendering himself even more to what was happening. 

When he finally pulled his hands out of his pits they didn’t escape unscathed. The backs of his hands were coated with thick hairs, and as he pulled one up to his face to look closer he could see more worming their way out of his knuckles. The sight alone was enough for a glob of precum to shoot into his boxers. The hairs didn’t end there, however. They surged up his forearms, a tangled forest of black hairs erupting and growing dense. The same followed on his upper arms, connecting seamlessly to the dense fur coating his shoulders. He felt the signature itch of the hair growth spread from his shoulders down across his back. Turning in the mirror, he saw thousands of dark spots appear across his shoulder blade and race down towards his ass. Seconds later every spot erupted into thick curly hair, follicles pushing them out longer and longer. The mat thickened over his back as hairs curled and tangled together, especially right above his waistband. 

His body wasn’t done yet. Mark felt an intense prickling under his boxers and quickly pulled them down, scratching relentlessly at his inflating ass. He could feel as the prickles turned into wiry hairs, pushing out across his cheeks. He groaned as the feeling of thick hairs growing like fur in his crack was too much, shoving his hands in there to feel the thick pelt erupting from his skin. His eyes nearly rolled back as he felt up his tight hole surrounded by a jungle of hair, his cock harder than he’d ever felt it before and leaking like a faucet. The fog he had felt absorbed in just that morning was returning, his body acting on its own in search of masculinity and pleasure. The hair growth only served to fuel that fire, spreading from his ass down his legs in a thick carpet over his thighs. The curls popped up from the skin, thickening as they pressed out from his skin into a fuzzy coating all the way to his feet.

Mark slid further and further into the recesses of his mind, intoxicated from testosterone as his body continued to change. His self-indulgence reached a crescendo as every other desire slipped away, flushed out of him through the faucet that was his dripping cock. 

More hair.

His hand reached for the tube again, emptying the last of it into his palm before reaching to grasp his rock hard cock. He slid his hand up and down, coating it in the cream and letting the rest drip all over his groin. A moan slipped out as he continued to pump his member, it slowly growing thicker and longer as it absorbed the cream. More drops of cream splattered into his sparse bush, Fertilizing the ground for what was next. Dark hairs began popping out of his skin, dark and thick. They pushed out longer than his old hairs, filling in the space between them rapidly. 

More hair.

His pubes erupted in mere minutes, a dense triangle of fur filling out his crotch, tangling and curling together as the scent of musk and ointment grew stronger. The hairs continued their conquest, reaching up to his stomach and out over his thighs. His balls swelled larger before becoming enshrouded in a carpet of their own. His cock continued pushing out longer as Mark pumped away, groaning as it grew thicker and more sensitive. 

He wasn’t done yet, as more and more hairs filled in all over, rugs connecting into a massive carpet of body hair. The hairs were ever crawling up the shaft of his massive cock thanks to the cream. Mark’s breathing had grown intense, groaning nonstop as instinct took over completely. One hand rubbing through his thick fur and the other edging him closer and closer to climax. He could feel the tingle as the hairs lengthened and thickened, coarse hairs rubbing against each other as they matted together.

He roared as everything finally peaked, his cock erupting with rope after rope of cum. It went everywhere, getting tangled in all his new grown fur. He continued pumping load after load out, an unbelievable amount of cum poured out of him onto his hairy body. He gasped as every pump of his cock sent immense waves of pleasure through him, squeezing every last drop of cum out. He let go of his softening member and moved his hands to his chest, feeling the sticky cum in all the hair. 

“Fuuuuuck yes…” he groaned as he rubbed the cum into his fur just as he’d done with the cream earlier. His bush was completely soaked with cum, and he could feel the hairs thickening as he massaged the area. All over his body, the cum served only to encourage even more growth, and quicker than the Rogaine ever had. Dark hairs pressed out between previous ones, covering him in a dense pelt that hid his skin beneath. Cum slowly dribbled out of his cock as the pleasure swept through his system. The fog in his head slowly dissipated, and Mark was brought back to the forefront of his brain. The primal instincts that had control for the past hour gave up their hold. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. Black fur coated his whole body, cum dripped from patches all over him. His cock was now dangling at eight inches soft. He slowly moved his arms to feel the hair growing all over him, trying to process his reality. He only managed to get two words out.

“Oh, fuck.”

[shhhsecretsideblog]

[Labor Denial, inconvenient birth] Imagine for a moment you're a professor at prestigious college. It's just the beginning of the final exam period of the year and your huge swell of twin belly has proven difficult to maneuver in your 38th week of pregnancy. Braxton hicks are a constant plague on you during the first and second day of finals and by the end of the third you're certain your belly has lowered a bit. At the end of the fourth day as you get ready for bed, a new and strengthened pain takes hold of your overstretched bump. It lasts longer than any braxton you had before, your belly even feels harder beneath your palms as it progresses.

You are still two weeks out from being full term and your doctor assured you that your babies had no interest in making an early appearance. Besides, there was no way you could miss the last day of exams, your employers would hardly approve.

In your mind, you decide these are just mildly more intense braxtons. Nothing more. You keep telling yourself this as the walk into the first test of the final day with a distinct, new pressure building in your low abdomen. You keep telling yourself it's nothing as you absentmindedly rock your hips during the first exam. You don't bother timing these pains; no need to time braxton hicks contractions. You ignore the growing pressure as students submit their exams. You ignore the slight wetness between your thighs when they shuffle out. You ignore the pain flaring in your hips as you shuffle to the next exam room.

All you need is to get through the next six hours of exams, go home, and get some rest. These pains were just the product of stressful times of exam season...

Keep Calm & Carry On

AN: thanks for a great prompt anon! Fpreg, labour denial, clothing birth. 2538 words.

Letting out a short grunt, I cup the underside of my low and heavy belly and arduously push myself up out of the chair. Being so heavily pregnant at the end of the school year, two babies wrestling in my belly, was no joke. Each week during my third trimester brought forth a new ache or pain and as I approached my due date I was regretting not taking early maternity leave. But the university was having staffing issues, there were barely enough faculty members to cover all the end of year exams as it was without me taking early leave. Plus I couldn’t exactly bow out now at this late notice. I couldn’t do that to all the students, they’d worked so hard.

So I grit my teeth and persevered through the long week of exams, through all the aches and pains and practice contractions. Only a few hours left on the final day and soon I would be at home resting for the double arrival. As I reached the exit of the now-empty exam room I had to pause and grab the door frame when another braxton hicks rippled across my taut skin. A groan slipped from my mouth and my knees slightly dipped as the wave built and built before eventually peaking with a lightning bolt of pain to my crotch. “Ooohhhhh… you need to s-stop t-this…” I muttered to the babies in my belly. “I know you’re practising for the main event but jeeze… mnnhhh… please just give me a break for a few hours.”

Unusually, the babies seemed to respond to my plea and after a particularly strong movement, with one baby’s head nestling deep within my pelvis, they settled quietly in my belly. “Phew, thank you. We’ll be done soon, I promise.” I dropped off the papers from my previous exam in the designated tray in the teachers lounge and picked up the stack of booklets for my next exam. After taking a quick breather, drinking some water and dampening the sweat from the back of my neck, I began the trek to my next exam in the hall on the other side of campus.

My body seemed to be practising for labour every few minutes at this point, each wave forcing me to stop and brace against a solid surface and breathe my way through them. I was grateful the students were all in their examination halls so the campus was empty, no one to see me hunched over my bump leaning against a wall.

“Hooohooo… oof! Come on babies, this is getting anno— annoying now—!” The weight between my legs was ever increasing, my waddle so distinctively wide it was almost comical, if not for the pressure and pain that came with it. I couldn’t stop the growl rumbling in my throat as my entire belly turned to stone and squeezed hard. The stack of booklets trembled in my hands and I was panting heavily. I wanted to go home, fighting these pains all day was draining all my energy, but I just couldn’t abandon the students. When the pain passed I fixed my expression and walked as determinedly as I could towards my next shift, my free hand rubbing the constant ache in my lower belly.

When I got to the exam I grit my teeth through the roll call and amazingly managed to walk up and down the rows of students to hand out the test papers, but my ability to stay standing was wavering fast and I plumped down on the chair behind the moderator's desk with a humph. My hands naturally gravitated towards my belly, my fingers splayed each side across the tensing swell, and I took measured deep breaths.

“Are you alright, Miss?” One of the students asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes I’m fine.” I tried to reassure the student and keep my eyes from closing as the wave continued to build. “Y-you may turn over your papers and begin.”

The contraction built to astronomical heights and my face scrunched, silently bearing the pain of the worst braxton hicks yet. There was just so much pressure, my pelvis was screaming at me. Unconsciously my legs were wide beneath the table, my belly sitting heavily between my thighs, my hips tilting outwards in my slumped position. Thankfully the wooden desk had a modesty panel so the students could not see beneath the table or view my ridiculously widened legs.

One of the baby’s felt so damn low, as if one good sneeze would shoot them out, but I was sure the heaviness was simply a common feeling for being this advanced with twins. It couldn’t be as low as it felt, I’d have to be in labour for that, which I was not.

As time ticked on I barely noticed my body’s subtle movements, trying to keep my concentration focused on the students and their exam, ignoring all the aches and pains that my body was subjecting me to. I wasn’t even aware of when I started rocking forward and back in my chair, or when I lifted my hips off the seat…? Unconsciously I’d pushed my weight forward onto the desk, leaning on my forearms and elbows, subtly lifting my backside and easing the fiery ache building in my pelvis. God, this chair was torturous, I couldn’t find any position that didn’t make me want to scream.

Eventually I gave up on sitting, resorting instead to pacing the room keeping one firm hand pressed into my lower back while the other lifted my heavy belly. The students paid no attention, focusing on the exam papers, all too used to the moderators patrolling around the room and monitoring for any cheating.

The walking was helping the aggressive pains in my hips but it felt like the movement was bringing the baby down even lower. My breaths came thick and fast, my constant movements tiring my body but I couldn’t bear to sit back down in that chair. Another wild pain lashed across my middle and I was forced to stop my pacing, thankfully while I was at the back of the hall behind all the students facing the other way. My belly tightened, urgent and sharp, and I nearly doubled over but instead threw both palms out in front and braced against the wall. My hips were making wild circular motions that I couldn’t control and somewhere in the depths of my mind was a calling to squat down.

Fighting against my body’s instincts I clamped my mouth shut and panted through my wide nostrils. Fuck, it felt like one of the baby’s was coming out… but that couldn’t be right… I wasn’t in labour. But— but then why did I feel a need to push?! I glanced up at the clock, no phones were allowed in the exam hall, and saw I still had two more hours to go.

Two hours, I could do that. Even if I was in labour, a twin birth would take a long time. Everything was fine. I paced along the back wall of the exam hall, my fingers brushing the plasterboard keeping constant contact with a nearby surface to keep myself grounded and stable. Up and down I waddled, restless in my taut and tired skin. The waves crashing through my uterus every few minutes were creeping towards agony and I was finding it harder to stay silent. Just a few hours. That’s all I had to do. But the weight and pressure was sinking lower by the minute and I was having to bite down on my fist to refrain from groaning.

With just over an hour to go I noticed a hand go up at the front of the sea of students. Reluctantly I left my haven at the back of the room and waddled painfully down the row towards the person in question.

“Have you got any spare pens? Mine has run out.” They asked, their eyebrows pinching at seeing my exhausted and sweaty state. “Mmngg— sure.” I managed to grit and went back to my desk for the extra stationary. After providing the student with extra pens I barely made it back to the desk before the next contraction struck, a deep low groan escaping from my mouth as I curled forward and braced the wooden frame, my hips swaying instinctively against the pain.

“Oh my gosh Miss, are you okay?” One student asked in a panic. My only response was another deep groan, louder this time, as I battled the urgent squeezing that was shoving a baby’s head through my cervix.

“Shit! She’s having her baby!” One student cried out.

I shook my head frantically, trying to keep some semblance of control within the exam, despite the incessant tensing and building pressure. “It— it’s fine. Everyone back to your tests.” I tried to assure the students, even though I couldn’t move from my position gripping the desk. “I… it’s possible I’m in labour but… just carry on with your final exam okay. Labour takes hours, it’s— ooooh— it’s nothing to worry about.” The grin plastered on my face was entirely false, the pressure building between my thighs was telling me I might not have as long as I’d hoped.

Instead, when the contraction waned, I stood up and confidently sat back down at the desk and shuffled papers mindlessly and eventually the students went back to their exams. These babies were coming, I could feel it, the giant boulder in my pelvis was almost certainly one of the heads burrowing its way out of me. I straightened up, blocking any exit with the seat of the chair. Just an hour to go, I was going to make it.

I lasted 10 minutes before my determination faltered, the urge to push returning with a vengeance. There was no stopping it, my only hope was the uncomfortable but strategic position on the chair. As soon as the contraction began tightening my womb my body was bearing down uncontrollably. My head dipped, my chin to my chest, my fingers white knuckling the desk as I pushed. Fuck. The head was moving down, I could feel it as it inched lower towards the exit. I barely had time to catch my breath before my body pushed again, hard, fully leaning into the contraction and bringing this baby out whether I wanted to or not.

Through the incessant contractions and the desperate urgency of these babies to be born, I held fast to my position on the chair, blocking any exit with the seat. I was granted only a short reprieve before the next contraction struck and I was back to my silent pushing. I couldn’t make a noise, couldn’t distract the students from their graduating exam, but I also couldn’t do anything else to delay or stop the birth. I was trapped in this never ending cycle of pain. The head was right at my opening, bulging my sensitive lips into my underwear. I wanted to scream, to cry, to open my legs, but I couldn’t. One glance at the clock told me there was only 20 minutes left of the exam. I could make it.

My babies however, were not too keen on following my schedule, and even with my upright position I could feel myself opening around the head. This baby wanted out and it wanted out now. When the burning started I couldn’t help but widen my legs, throwing each thigh over the edges of my seat. My body kept on pushing, through every grievous wave of pain that squeezed my middle, and I couldn’t stop myself from pushing in earnest. The grunt that echoed my throat caught the attention of a few students at the front and I tried to offer a reassuring smile, desperately hiding the fact the head of one of my babies was crowning into my underwear.

When I let go of the push the baby retreated and sighed in relief. But this was short lived as I was back to pushing again barely a minute later. Fuck! I had no phone, a room full of students, and two babies that were desperate to get out of my body. In the short break between pushes the high-pitched ding of a bell sounded signalling the end of the exam. Everyone in the room looked up at me. My chest was heaving with laboured breaths, I gulped and managed to say “Pens down everyone. P-please leave your papers on your d-desks and exit the hall…”

The scratching of chairs on hardwood floors echoed the room as the students stood up and left the exam hall via the door at the back of the room. I was supposed to have collected each paper before dismissing them but there was no way in hell I could stand up. The next contraction was upon me before all the students left and I panted my way through the squeezing urgency of my rock-hard belly.

The crown of the baby’s head was getting bigger and bigger and the second the final student left, the door closing behind them, I let out a deep primal groan that I had been stifling for the past few hours. The head came to a full crown in my underwear and I sobbed and squirmed as everything burned white hot. Out. I needed this baby out of me!!!! With a forceful grunt I disappeared into a deep earnest push and birthed the head of my first child into my knickers.

“Mnnnnghhh… ohh god…. It’s out— the head…. Oh fuck…” With a trembling hand I felt the bulge of my trousers and the head that now sat at the apex of my thighs. “Why couldn’t you wait… just a bit longer guys?!” Before I could form any sort of plan or thought, another tightening rippled across my belly and I knew there was no stopping what was about to happen. Gripping the edge of my seat I bore down with everything that I had, the shoulders stretching me as wide as the head, and I wailed as I threw my head back.

“Oh my gosh Miss Jones…?” A voice came from the other side of the hall. I opened my eyes to see the headmistress in the doorway. “Grrrhhhh… babies are coming—!!!” I grunted and roared, pushing the shoulders out which was immediately followed by the torso of the first baby slipping out and down my trouser leg.

My colleague and boss rushed across the hall to me, wide eyed and panicking. “You poor dear, why didn’t you tell us you were in labour?” She asked, helping me pull the waistband of my trousers down so I could get to my newborn babe.

I couldn’t speak, in too much shock and trembling, an instinctual need to hold my baby was the only thing I was capable of. The infant immediately gurgled and cried as I lifted them up and placed them on my chest, wiping their face and checking every inch of my new baby.

“You did it, goodness, you had your baby.” The head teacher muttered in awe.

“Yeah… but mnnggh… I’m having twins, remember.” I grumbled, as I felt my womb contract again…

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN ━━ Know It’s For The Better

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 5.2K

☆ ━ warnings: mentions of abuse and conversion therapy, dani’s going through it

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: bob bueckers is the goat of this fic btw

PAIGE IS SPRAWLED across her bed when the first buzz from her phone makes her look up from the ceiling. Her thoughts have been restless all evening, but she’s too tired to scroll through TikTok or do anything productive, like finish her chemistry homework. The soft glow of her screen lights up the room, and she groans, stretching a hand toward the nightstand to grab her phone.

She squints at the text.

Thaliah Sommers

you need to come over rn

Paige frowns, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she blinks at the clock. 11:47 p.m.

She doesn’t answer immediately. Her dad’s downstairs, the TV still on, and she can practically feel the weight of her grounding like a shackle around her ankles. She’s already walking a fine line after The Party Incident. What could possibly be so urgent that Thaliah thinks she’d risk adding more fuel to her dad’s already burning fire?

Still, her curiosity gets the better of her.

Lil Paigey

What

Why?

The reply comes almost instantly.

Thalia Sommers

it’s abt dani

she’s over here completely inconsolable

something happened with her dad

Paige sits bolt upright, the words hitting her like a slap. Dani. Her dad. Completely inconsolable. Paige’s stomach twists into knots, her heart thudding in her chest as her grip on the phone tightens. She’s never heard Thaliah use words like that about Dani before. Dani isn’t the kind of person who falls apart in front of other people. Dani’s strong—she holds things together, even when she shouldn’t have to.

Paige stares at the screen, her thumb hesitating over the keyboard. Thaliah’s next text hits before she can respond.

Thaliah Sommers

p you’re the best person to be here for her in this kinda situation

The knot in Paige’s stomach pulls tighter. It’s true. It’s more than true. As far as she knows, she’s the only person Dani’s told about the stuff that happened over the summer, the way her dad treated her. So, she needs to go and be there for her.

Lil Paigey

I’ll be there soon

Her hands are already moving, throwing off the blanket and fumbling for her sweatshirt on the chair by her desk.

Her heart pounds in her chest, nerves coursing through her like electricity. This is serious. This isn’t just sneaking out for something stupid, or to meet Dani for a late-night endeavor. This is… something else entirely. Paige can feel it in her bones, an icy undercurrent of fear twisting with her determination.

Her keys jingle as she grabs them off her dresser, the sound too loud in the quiet house. She tiptoes down the stairs, her feet barely making a sound against the hardwood. The living room glows with the flicker of the TV, her dad’s shadowed figure reclining on the couch.

Bob doesn’t look up at first, but as soon as Paige’s hurried footsteps hit the last stair, he pauses the TV. “Where are you going?” His voice is low, even, but there’s an edge of suspicion there.

Paige freezes, turning to face him. She’s already halfway to the door, her sweatshirt zipped up and her shoes only loosely tied. “I need to go over to Thaliah’s,” she says quickly, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

Bob raises an eyebrow. “What? It’s almost midnight, Paige. On a school night.” His tone sharpens. “And don’t forget that you’re grounded.”

The reminder hits her like a slap, but Paige doesn’t have time to care. She throws her hands up, exasperated. “No, I’m serious. I need to go.”

“You need to stay right here,” Bob counters, crossing his arms. “You’re grounded for a reason, Paige. Throwing a party and lying about it isn’t exactly something I’m going to forget in two days.”

Paige’s frustration boils over. She doesn’t have time for this. “Dad, it’s about Dani!” she snaps, her voice rising.

But Bob doesn’t flinch. He holds her gaze, unyielding. “You see Dani every day at school,” he says evenly. “She can tell you whatever it is tomorrow.”

Paige’s breath catches, and she shakes her head furiously. “No, you don’t get it! It’s—it’s about her dad!” Her voice wavers, the tears she’s been holding back starting to brim in her eyes. This is making her really fucking anxious, not something she’s very used to.

Her phone buzzes again, and she glances at it, her stomach sinking at Thaliah’s words.

Thaliah Sommers

can you pls hurry

Panic blooms in her chest, spreading like wildfire. Dani needs her. The thought makes her throat tighten, her heart clench painfully. Paige has never heard the words “Dani” and “inconsolable” in the same sentence—especially not from someone that isn’t herself, that doesn’t know about certain things. Whatever happened tonight, whatever her dad did or said, it was enough to break her.

Paige turns back to her dad, her voice cracking as she pleads, “Please, Dad. Please. I need to go.”

Bob looks at her, his brow furrowing, his mouth pressed into a line. It’s the kind of look that makes Paige’s stomach churn. He knows something is wrong—anyone would with the way she’s nearly crying—but his sigh is heavy, as if he’s already preparing for the fight. “Paige,” he starts, his tone a warning, calm but firm.

She doesn’t let him finish. She can’t. Her nerves are fraying, her heart pounding in her chest. The thought of Dani being inconsolable at Thaliah’s house, waiting for her, makes it feel like the ground is falling out from under her feet. She knows she has to say it, has to explain, or her dad will never let her leave.

“Okay, okay,” she stammers, her voice breaking as she starts to ramble, her thoughts spilling out in a rush. “Do you remember how Dani didn’t talk to me for, like, three months? And I was really depressed during all of it?”

Bob’s face softens just slightly, a flicker of concern breaking through his confusion. “Yes…” he says slowly. “I thought it was really weird. The two of you have always been inseparable.”

“Exactly!” Paige blurts, waving her arms for emphasis. The words tumble out of her, frantic, almost incoherent. “So, um, the night before I left for USA Basketball stuff, we kissed. And Dani’s dad—he found out. And he’s, like, insanely homophobic, like you wouldn’t believe, so he sent her to—” She stops, catching her breath, willing herself to say it even though the word tastes like poison. “He sent her to conversion therapy over the summer.”

Bob blinks at her, his face going blank with shock.

“That’s why she didn’t talk to me,” Paige continues, the words pouring out like water through a crack in a dam. “That’s why she was gone for so long. And when she finally came back, she wouldn’t even look at me until she eventually told me everything, and I—God, it was horrible, Dad.” Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her voice breaking again. “And now Thaliah’s saying something happened with her dad again, and Dani’s at Thaliah’s house, and apparently she’s completely inconsolable, and Thaliah’s begging me to come, and I—I need to go. Please, I’m literally begging you. Just let me go.”

She stops, out of breath, her hands shaking. Her dad just stares at her, unmoving, his expression unreadable. The silence stretches long enough that Paige feels the edges of her panic fray even more.

Finally, Bob exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. “He sent her where?” His voice is low, almost dangerous.

Paige swallows hard, feeling the weight of the truth all over again. “Conversion therapy,” she says softly, barely above a whisper.

The words hang in the air like a thunderclap. Bob’s face hardens, his lips thinning, his eyes dark with something Paige rarely sees in him: pure, unfiltered anger.

“That man,” Bob says slowly, his voice a low rumble, “is about to hear from me about this.” He stands abruptly, his movements sharp and purposeful, his focus entirely elsewhere as he steps toward the door.

“No, no—not yet!” Paige says, stepping into his path, her hands raised to stop him. She’s face-to-face with him now, their matching heights making the confrontation feel heavier, more personal. Her voice wavers as she pleads, “I need to figure out exactly what happened with Dani first. Please, Dad. Just—just let me go?”

Bob’s eyes search hers for a long moment, the fury still simmering behind his gaze. But then, with a sigh, he relents. “Okay,” he agrees, stepping back.

“Thank you!” Paige says quickly, already moving past him, her relief palpable as she rushes for the door. She bolts outside, her keys jangling in her hand.

By the time she’s in the car and speeding toward Thaliah’s, her hands are still shaking, her heart still racing. But all she can think about is Dani.

And when Paige finally pulls up to Thaliah’s house, the first thing she notices is Dani’s car parked at the curb. The sight sends a jolt through her chest—part relief, part anxiety. At least Dani’s here, at least she’s safe for now. Paige barely remembers to throw her car into park before she’s out and hurrying up the front steps.

She rings the doorbell and waits, shifting on her feet. Her hands are still shaking, and she tries to steady them by gripping the edge of her sweatshirt. The door opens, and it’s Thaliah’s mom who answers. Paige recognizes the flicker of relief that crosses her face before she even says anything.

“They’re downstairs in the basement,” Thaliah’s mom says, her voice soft but firm, like she knows whatever’s going on is serious.

Paige nods quickly, murmuring, “Thank you,” before stepping inside. The house feels familiar—she’s been here a million times before, for study sessions, movie nights, and sleepovers—but tonight it feels different. Heavier. She moves through the hallways and down the stairs like she’s on autopilot, her heart pounding harder with every step.

As she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she sees the back of Dani and Thaliah’s heads. They’re sitting on the couch, facing the TV, though it isn’t on. Thaliah has her arm draped across the back of the couch, and Dani is curled into herself, her knees pulled up to her chest.

The sound of Paige’s sneakers hitting the bottom step makes Thaliah whip her head around. She spots Paige instantly and stands, her shoulders dropping like the weight of the world has just been lifted. “Paige!” she exclaims, her voice low but insistent, like she’s been waiting for her.

At the sound of Thaliah’s voice, Dani glances over her shoulder too, and Paige’s heart clenches the moment their eyes meet. Dani looks wrecked. She’s not crying, but her eyes are red-rimmed, her mascara smudged under them in streaks. She looks tired, hollow, like whatever fight she had in her is gone. It’s the defeated expression on her face that twists something deep in Paige’s chest.

“Hey,” Paige says softly, stepping closer but keeping her movements slow and cautious. Her eyes flick between Thaliah and Dani, and she hesitates before asking, “What happened?”

Dani looks away almost immediately, burying her face against her knees as though she can’t bear to speak. Thaliah, standing beside the couch, looks down at her best friend with so much quiet concern that it makes Paige’s throat tighten. Thaliah glances back at Paige, then, her expression soft but heavy with meaning.

“I’ll leave the two of you to talk about it,” Thaliah says gently. She leans over Dani, brushing a hand across her shoulder before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you, Dan,” she murmurs.

Dani doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even lift her head, but Paige sees her hand twitch slightly, like she’s trying to acknowledge it but doesn’t have the strength.

Thaliah circles around the couch, her movements purposeful but quiet. When she reaches Paige, she stops and touches her arm lightly, leaning in to whisper, “Be gentle with her, yeah? It’s bad.” Her voice is barely audible, but the weight of her words crashes over Paige like a tidal wave.

Paige nods, her chest tightening. “Okay,” she whispers back.

Thaliah squeezes her arm, a fleeting but grounding gesture, before heading upstairs. Paige watches her go, listens to the sound of the door closing behind her, and then turns back to Dani.

The silence feels deafening now, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. Paige’s heart squeezes painfully as she takes a slow step forward, her eyes fixed on Dani’s small, crumpled figure on the couch. What did he do to you this time? she wonders, the question clawing at the edges of her mind. But she pushes it back for now. She needs to handle this right.

Paige approaches the couch cautiously, her heart pounding. She sinks onto the spot next to Dani, careful to leave a few inches of space between them. She doesn’t want to overwhelm her. Dani looks so small, curled up like she’s trying to make herself disappear.

“Hey,” Paige murmurs, leaning down a little to meet Dani’s gaze. Her voice is soft, coaxing, but there’s an edge of worry she can’t hide.

Dani turns her head, her cheek resting against her knees. Her eyes meet Paige’s, and for a fleeting moment, Paige sees something there—relief, maybe, or just a flicker of recognition. Dani gives her a small, wobbly smile, but it’s hollow, completely devoid of any real emotion. “Hey,” she mumbles back, her voice so quiet it barely registers.

Paige’s chest tightens as she watches Dani’s eyes begin to water. The sight makes her stomach churn. She reaches over slowly, brushing her thumb beneath Dani’s left eye, wiping away the streak of mascara that’s smudged there. Her hand lingers, her thumb gliding over Dani’s cheek before she cups it gently. Dani doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t lean into the touch either.

“Dan,” Paige murmurs, her voice low and tender. She searches Dani’s face, trying to will her to open up. “Talk to me, baby.”

That seems to break whatever fragile dam Dani’s been holding up. Her lips tremble, and then she’s crying—really crying. It’s not just the silent tears from earlier; this is raw, uncontrollable, chest-heaving sobs. Paige sighs softly and pulls Dani into her, letting her fall against her chest.

Dani buries her face in Paige’s neck, and Paige feels the wet heat of her tears soaking into her skin. She wraps her arms around Dani’s back, holding her close, pulling her even tighter when Dani lets out a particularly gut-wrenching sob. She’s practically in Paige’s lap now, her knees pressing against Paige’s thighs as Paige strokes her hair in slow, soothing motions.

“It’s okay,” Paige murmurs against Dani’s temple, though she doesn’t know if it is. She doesn’t know if it ever will be.

Dani’s sobs quiet just enough for her to choke out words. “He found out about us.”

Paige freezes. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, though deep down, she’s not surprised. She’d had a feeling, from the moment Thaliah texted her, that this had to do with either their relationship or Dani’s sexuality. She takes a slow breath, letting the words sink in, before resuming her gentle strokes through Dani’s hair. “Okay,” Paige hums softly, coaxing her to continue.

Dani sniffles, her voice shaky and broken. “He saw Beau’s dad… and he thought we were still together, so he went and talked to him. And then Beau’s dad told him that he and I had been broken up for months. And I guess Beau told him that I left him for a girl.” Dani’s voice cracks, and she lets out a bitter laugh that turns into another sob.

Paige’s stomach knots tighter, but she stays quiet, letting Dani keep going.

“My dad came home,” Dani continues, her words tumbling out faster now, like she can’t stop them. “He looked around my room, and he found one of your sweatshirts… and a note you’d written. And that picture of us from Friday.” Dani’s voice breaks completely this time, and Paige feels her heart twist painfully. “And he—he was so mad.”

Paige presses her lips to Dani’s hair, closing her eyes against the flood of emotions rising in her chest. “You could’ve called me,” she murmurs, her voice thick with guilt.

Dani lets out another sob, clutching Paige’s shirt tightly. “I would’ve,” she chokes out, “but he broke my phone. Threw it across the room.”

That makes Paige pull back slightly, just enough to look at Dani’s face. Her hands slide down to Dani’s sides, holding her gently but firmly. Paige thought this was just a verbal fight—like always. But him doing that is different, scarier. It makes her even more worried than before. “Is that all he did?” Paige asks, her voice carefully measured. “Just break your phone?”

Dani hesitates. The pause is just long enough to make Paige’s heart hammer in her chest.

“Dani,” Paige says, her voice breaking. The name comes out like a plea, like a desperate attempt to pull the truth from her.

Dani finally looks at Paige, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “He told me he was gonna send me back to camp,” she mumbles, her voice barely audible. “To conversion therapy. Whatever you want to call it.” Her shoulders shake as she exhales a shuddering breath. “And I fought back—told him I couldn’t do it, didn’t wanna go. And he didn’t like that.”

Paige swallows hard, her throat dry. She thinks she knows where this is going, but she still asks, her voice trembling, “What did he do, Dani?”

Dani shrugs, like she’s trying to downplay it, but her eyes betray her. They’re swimming with tears, and when she speaks, her voice cracks again. “He hit me.”

The words hang in the air like a physical blow, and Paige feels her whole body tense. Her hands tighten on Dani’s sides, not enough to hurt but enough to ground herself. Her breath catches, and for a moment, she doesn’t trust herself to speak.

Then, finally, she whispers, “Oh, Dani,” her voice breaking completely. She pulls Dani back into her arms, holding her as tightly as she can without hurting her, her own tears beginning to well up. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to fix this. All she can do is hold her and hope it’s enough, even though she knows it won’t be.

Paige keeps holding Dani as she sobs into her shoulder, her whole body trembling like she’s been holding this in for far too long. Paige’s chest tightens with each choked sob, her throat burning from the effort of holding back her own tears. The only thing grounding her right now is Dani in her arms—and the sharp, unrelenting hatred boiling in her chest for the man who did this to her.

She’s never hated anyone more than Dani’s father. Never. Not in her entire life. The thought of him makes her blood run hot, her fists clenching involuntarily. Because how could anyone hurt Dani? Sweet, kind, radiant Dani, who’s never done anything but try to survive in a world that’s never made space for her. Paige wants to storm over to that house right now, face him herself, but she knows she can’t.

What she can do is make sure Dani never has to see him again.

“You’re gonna stay with me and my dad, okay?” Paige whispers, her voice resolute. She presses a kiss into Dani’s hair, her lips brushing against the crown of her head. “I’m not letting you go back in that house, Dan. No way.”

Dani pulls back slightly, her tear-streaked face turning up to meet Paige’s. She’s shaking her head before Paige even finishes speaking, her eyes wide and filled with worry. “Paige, I—I can’t just intrude like that,” Dani stammers, her voice hoarse and cracked. “That’s not—It’s just unrealistic.”

Paige shakes her head right back, her determination unwavering. “No,” she says firmly, her hands holding Dani’s shoulders like she’s trying to physically keep her from running away from the idea. “You heard what your dad said—he’ll send you back. And I won’t let it happen. I swear to God, Dani. I won’t let it happen.”

There’s a silence between them, heavy and charged. Dani’s eyes search Paige’s face, and Paige doesn’t waver, her jaw set, her expression steady. She doesn’t care what it takes. Dani is not going back to that house.

Finally, Paige sighs, her grip on Dani’s shoulders loosening slightly. Her voice softens as she says, “My dad knows.”

Dani stiffens. Paige feels it, the way Dani’s muscles tense under her hands. Her eyes widen just a fraction more, her lips parting slightly like she’s about to say something but can’t find the words.

“I had to tell him tonight,” Paige explains, her voice steady but quiet. “He never would’ve let me leave otherwise. He knows about the camp. About your dad.”

Paige braces herself, half-expecting Dani to lash out, to yell at her for breaking the promise they made—the one where Paige swore she wouldn’t tell anyone about the camp. Dani had been so adamant, so insistent that no one could ever find out. But as Paige watches Dani’s face, she doesn’t see anger. She doesn’t see betrayal.

Instead, Dani looks… thoughtful. Her brow furrows slightly, her lips pressing together in a way that looks more like worry than frustration.

So Paige continues, feeling a flicker of hope. “He was so mad when I told him, Dani. He wanted to go give your dad a piece of his mind right then and there. I had to convince him to let me come here instead.” She pauses, her thumbs brushing against Dani’s arms in soft, soothing motions. “I promise you, he’d much rather you stay with us and be safe than have you over there. You’re like a second daughter to him—you know that.”

Dani doesn’t say anything right away. Her eyes drop, her gaze unfocused as she processes Paige’s words. Paige can practically see the wheels turning in her head, the way her mind is working overtime to reconcile everything Paige just told her.

“I just… I don’t want to be a burden,” Dani whispers finally, her voice so quiet Paige has to strain to hear it.

“You won’t be,” Paige says immediately, her tone firm and certain. “You’ve never been a burden to me or to him. You know that.”

Dani’s eyes flicker up to meet hers again, and Paige sees the doubt there, the fear that’s been drilled into her by years of living in that house. Paige feels her heart clench again, but she keeps her voice steady, her hands gentle as she cups Dani’s face.

“You’re not going back there,” Paige says softly, but there’s steel in her voice. “Not now. Not ever.”

Dani blinks rapidly, her tears threatening to spill over again, and Paige brushes them away before they can fall. Dani’s lip trembles, and she looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. She just nods, barely, like she’s too tired to fight anymore.

Relief floods through Paige, but it’s tempered by the ache in her chest, the overwhelming need to protect Dani from everything she’s been through—and everything she’s still scared of. Paige leans forward, pressing her forehead gently against Dani’s, her hands still cradling her face.

“We’ll figure it out, Dan,” Paige murmurs. “I promise. We’ll figure it out together.”

And for the first time all night, Dani doesn’t argue. She just closes her eyes and lets Paige hold her, her breath hitching softly as she leans into the only safe place she has left.

THEY STAY at Thaliah’s house that night, Thaliah’s mom bustling around with warm reassurance, pulling out an air mattress and piling it with blankets and pillows until it’s soft and inviting. Paige murmurs a quiet “thank you” as the woman pats her shoulder gently before retreating upstairs.

Dani hasn’t said much since they agreed to stay, her eyes rimmed red and her voice a little hoarse. She stands off to the side, clutching the borrowed sweatpants and oversized T-shirt Thaliah gave her like they’re a lifeline.

When the mattress is ready, Paige takes Dani’s hand, threading their fingers together and giving a reassuring squeeze. Dani follows her lead without protest, crawling onto the air mattress after Paige and letting her guide them both under the blankets.

They settle into the space slowly, Dani lying on her side and curling into herself like she’s trying to make herself smaller. Paige isn’t having that. She shifts closer, wrapping her arms around Dani and tugging her gently into her chest. Dani resists for a second, her body stiff and hesitant, but then she sighs and gives in, letting herself melt into Paige’s hold.

Paige nestles her chin against the top of Dani’s head, her hand running slow, soothing circles over her back. Dani’s knees are drawn up, her body curled tightly against Paige’s. Paige shifts her legs around Dani’s, tangling them together as much as the narrow mattress will allow. Her other arm rests beneath Dani’s neck, cradling her head and keeping her close.

For the first time all night, Dani seems to relax, her breathing evening out as she lets the exhaustion take over. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep, her face tucked into Paige’s collarbone, her breath soft and steady against Paige’s skin.

But Paige doesn’t sleep.

She stares up at the ceiling, her eyes tracing the faint outlines of shadows cast by the streetlights outside. Her mind is an endless loop of everything Dani told her tonight—every word, every broken sob, all of it.

It makes her stomach churn, her jaw clenching in helpless anger. She doesn’t know how someone can treat their child like that. She doesn’t know how Dani’s father can even look at her and not see what Paige sees: someone so good, so kind, so deserving of love. The thought that he could hurt Dani—his own daughter, the girl Paige loves more than anything—nearly sends the blonde into a frenzy.

But then Paige looks down at Dani, sleeping soundly in her arms, and the anger softens into something else. Relief. Gratitude.

Because Dani’s safe now. She’s not in that house. She’s not alone. Paige tightens her hold slightly, pressing a soft kiss into Dani’s hair.

It’s not enough—not nearly enough—but for tonight, it’ll have to be.

DANI STANDS on the sidewalk with Paige and Bob, the three of them staring at the house that used to feel like home. Now it feels like something else entirely—something hollow, suffocating, and cruel.

Dani hugs herself tightly, trying to ignore the way her chest tightens at the sight of it. She hears Bob’s steady voice beside her, low but firm, a grounding force she hadn’t realized she needed.

“In and out,” Bob says, his hand a reassuring weight on her shoulder. “You get everything you need, and that’s it. You never have to go back in there after this.”

Dani nods, her throat too tight to speak.

The morning had been a blur. Paige drove them to her house, Dani’s car still parked at Thaliah’s with the promise to retrieve it later. She barely had time to register the familiarity of the Bueckers’ front porch before Paige’s dad had pulled her into a hug—tight, warm, and safe. It was the kind of hug she hadn’t felt in years, and she melted into it, clinging to him like she was afraid she might disappear.

Paige must’ve told him everything already. Dani didn’t know how much detail Paige gave him, but it was enough to bring a protective light to Bob’s eyes when he looked at her. Enough for him to immediately agree that Dani could stay with them for as long as she needed. The relief she felt was overwhelming, but it was fleeting. Because now they were here, and she had to face the remnants of last night.

The front door creaks slightly as Bob opens it. The house is silent, but it feels like the walls are holding their breath. Dani steps in cautiously, every nerve on edge despite knowing her dad’s at work.

Bob glances at her, his tone gentle but insistent. “Go upstairs. I’ll stay down here, just in case.” He bends to pick up her photography bag from where it’s still lying on the floor from last night, slinging it onto his shoulder. “You two just get what you need. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Dani nods again before she and Paige head up the stairs. Each step feels heavier than the last, the air thick with memories she doesn’t want to revisit. Paige is close behind her, her hand brushing lightly against Dani’s back in silent support.

When they reach her room, Paige touches her arm gently. “Let’s make this quick,” she says softly.

They grab two suitcases from the closet, Dani’s hands shaking slightly as she unzips them. Paige doesn’t waste any time, moving to the dresser and pulling out clothes, folding them neatly before stacking them in one of the suitcases. Dani busies herself with the bookshelf, grabbing journals, books, and anything else that feels important.

Her hands hover over a small stuffed bear, one her mom gave her when she was a kid. She picks it up hesitantly, running her fingers over the soft fur before placing it in the suitcase.

Then she sees the photo.

It’s a picture of her and her mom, taken on a trip to the lake years ago. They’re both laughing, her mom’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Dani picks it up, holding it close to her chest. For a moment, she can’t move. Her mind spirals into the what ifs. What if her mom were still alive? Would any of this have happened? She doesn’t think so.

Paige’s voice pulls her back again. “Dan?”

Dani blinks, glancing over at Paige, who’s watching her with careful eyes. “I’m okay,” Dani murmurs, but she doesn’t let go of the photo. Instead, she keeps it tucked under her arm, making sure it’s secure.

They keep packing, working quickly and efficiently. Paige moves with purpose, her focus unwavering as she gathers Dani’s things. Dani feels a lump rise in her throat at the sight of her—Paige, who shouldn’t have to be here, shouldn’t have to be dealing with any of this, but is anyway.

When the suitcases are full, Dani takes one last look around the room. It feels emptier now, stripped of anything that made it hers. A part of her feels relief, but another part feels a strange sense of loss.

Her childhood is over.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

Paige notices her hesitation and steps closer, placing a hand on her arm. “Ready?”

Dani nods, even though she’s not sure she is.

They head back downstairs, where Bob is waiting with the rest of Dani’s things. He smiles encouragingly. “Got everything?”

“Yeah,” Dani says, her voice quiet but steady.

Bob takes one of the suitcases from her, leading the way to the door. As they step outside, Dani feels the weight in her chest start to lift, just a little. She glances at Paige, who gives her a small, reassuring smile.

Things are gonna be a lot different now.

But, Dani thinks, they may also be better.