#waste-land-artist

[bldrdsh]

@waste-land-artist said:

“   why is it that you always have to glare at me like that ??   ”

She takes a second, crossing her arms before letting out a quiet puff. Focus moving from the woman to the art piece.

"You don't travel here much."

Dorothy admittedly suspects that she likely travels around a lot for inspiration. She wasn't especially well versed in art, but she suspected sitting in one place wasn't likely to be super helpful for finding a muse.

WITH HOW SAFE Sanctuary had become since the reformation of the Minutemen's ranks & boot camps, Dorothy found that most days she and her siblings were here unless their parents went back to the Castle. Rose had always said it was for the best, but Dorothy found herself occasionally wondering what the outside world might look like.

"...So I am surprised is all. I take it you've got business here or...are maybe looking for more inspiration in town?"

[ebonnat]

They hate each other I swear. 100% hate. Definitely

The oc is mine

But the AU featuring this Jax belongs to: @g00bergoo

Go check them out they’re really cool!

[webdewart]

Homestuck - The Waste Land.

A tribute to one of my favorite webcomics, and one of my favorite poems.

[poisonpicked]

@waste-land-artist said: "Take out every night is no way to live"

"yeah, yeah, i know. i just... i don't really have the energy to cook." and she hasn't for days now, as yun was clearly picking up —she should have just grabbed something quick to cook tonight — but she didn't want to complain about something so trivial. she was nearly three months clean, finally moved into her own place, managed to get some work at the local tattoo shop, had a beautiful and patient and understanding girlfriend, and yet... she was struggling. it was a different kind of 'struggle' than what she had been accustomed to and she just didn't know how to deal with it or even express it to those around her without hearing the voices of her parents complaining that she was just too sensitive.

she grabs her phone from the table and opens up the app, letting out a soft sigh of relief and showing the screen to yun. "look, nobody's picked up the order yet so i think i can still cancel it if you want to go to the grocery store and we can grab something to cook if you rather do that?"

[persephoneflouwers]

-

[zacksnydered]

I’m probably late but LOL, DKOS just keeps getting worse?

[arcaneartiste]

One of my favorite assignments in the Illustration as Design course I did last year was designing a book cover. I chose to create a collage for The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot. I’ve adored Eliot’s poetry since high school. My copy of the annotated selected poems is now falling apart from love. The Wasteland has always felt like a collage poem to me because of the wide pastiche of influences Eliot uses to paint his portrait of post-World War I Europe. ​ ​ Fun fact: I created a Wasteland inspired collage in high school. If I find it, I’ll need to post the comparison. ​ ​ [First image: The cover for an edition of “The Wasteland” by T.S. Eliot. The title is enclosed in a white box surrounded by art deco frames. Behind the frame is a warm toned collage that combines World War I era photography, classical art/sculpture, 1900s - 1920s drawings, tarot cards, and other evocative imagery.​ ​ Second image: a digital mockup of the book cover on a book]​

[hotvintagepoll]

Do you have any opinions on modern (post-1970s) movies that you feel capture the essence (in a good way) of Old Movies?

No, unfortunately. That doesn't mean I don't like modern movies or that modern movies aren't good, but modern movies—and here I'm really using modern to mean post-2010, so contemporary movies—have different standards for pacing, characterization, budget, and production that make it harder (or impossible) to capture some of the magic of old movies. Even when modern movies clearly try to emulate that old-movie feeling—I'm thinking of La La Land, The Artist, The Shape of Water, In the Heights—they play the homage too broadly, or they ignore crucial components that make the original films work.

There's kind of too much to go into here without writing a full essay, but essentially, the Old Hollywood system—ugly, failed beast as she was—made some movies simply more accessible to make, due to the ongoing storage of props, sets, master craftsmen, crew, and onscreen talent that could move from one movie to the next without pause. If you needed a dancer, he was already on staff. If you needed a fancy bed, it was already in the warehouse. That kind of longterm storage is invaluable if you want to crank out movies quickly and cheaply because it saves so much time on individual negotiation and sourcing. Modern production companies have to work out individual contracts for every actor on every film; crew members have to negotiate rental contracts and source pieces from scratch; if you need someone with specialist skills, you have to contract them specially at a high rate, which a lot of small companies can't (or won't) budget to do. There's sand in the wheels where there needn't be any. It's wasteful, and costly, but that's the system modern movies are made with.

Which all means that even if the modern movie system wanted to make a classic movie musical just like the old ones, they couldn't, because the talent isn't already there—it hasn't been trained up enough, and there's not that breadth of knowledge you can only get from people who have been allowed to work in the same department in the same place for decades. Movies like La La Land fail, for me, because they present themselves as descendants of Fred Astaire or Busby Berkley movies, while missing the bit where Fred Astaire was a master of his craft. When you watch Fred Astaire dance—or Moira Shearer, or the Nicholas Brothers, or Ann Miller—you are watching a true artist at work, purposely showcased by the studios because they already have them on contract. Modern movies, on the other hand, tend to take people who already have star talent (as actors) and try to convert them into dancers/singers—or they pull dancers/singers off of Broadway, but then they don't have the star power built in. You end up with lackluster musicals where no one truly knows what they're doing, or they do but they're not built up enough by the studios to sell. And that's me discussing just on-screen talent for musicals—there is a huge loss behind the scenes, as well, for all kinds of movies, where roles that would have been filled by union crew who moved continuously from one job to the next have been swapped for freelance labor who live with immense turnover, financial insecurity, and knowledge loss. You could hand me the budget and I could try to make an old movie, but the industry itself has changed so much it's impossible to recapture that charm of steady, niche talent, the amazing possibilities of bonkers set design, and the ability to take a risk on a smaller movie because the other films being produced by the same studio can help balance the budget.

I've talked way, way too much about all of this! Sorry, I just have a lot of thoughts—and the one above is just one of them; the talent loss and storage issues are only facets of a much bigger problem that extends to how we watch movies today, how we market them, what we expect of them, and what's allowed in them. It's a crying shame because the talent is still there, but times change and so does the industry, for better or for worse. (And, just again to clarify, I don't think modern movies are bad—they're just missing a lot of the juice old movies got to play with, even if there's more talent available than ever before.)

[devilmademewriteit]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman (Let Me Hold You Like A Baby)

part 3 of Dark But Just A Game

pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you’re in his place. you’re in his bed. will joel ever be anything more than your dad’s friend who occasionally fucks his frustrations into you, or will you always be strangers?

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [m receiving] fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long hair; pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel); dubcon (power imbalance); age gap; dbf!joel; angst; mentions of murder and torture.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites loml forever

word count: 4.1k

no use of y/n in this fic

Click here to read part 1, Dark but Just a Game. 

Click here to read part 2, Pretty When You Cry. 

(neither are totally necessary if u just wanna read some filth, fluff, n angst, all u rly need to know is that they’ve fucked twice before & he’s dad’s best friend lol).

a/n: thank u for all the support on this series. i’m literally so obsessed with all of you it’s not even funny. enjoy this while we collectively grieve the end of the season, & i’ll be here writing fic in the meantime. Don’t forget to join the taglist for any and all upcoming work! -em <333333

—

It had taken all of ten seconds for you to lose your shirt, your jeans, and your most beloved pair of (now ruined) panties after stepping foot in Joel Miller’s apartment.

“‘Fuckin’ soaked already—been thinkin’ about me all day, huh?”

And those tantalizing fingers. They were third on the list of things you thought about when you touched yourself, right after his cock and the insatiable look that haunted his eyes when he was inside you. Joel’s talents were wasted as a smuggler—he’d have made a fantastic pianist or maybe a guitarist with the way that index and that damned thumb conspired to make you sing for him.

“Anyone else touch you here since me?“ “No, Joel—just you—only you.” “Attagirl.”

He’d gotten you fully naked (something he’d never bothered to do before) and writhing in his grip in a matter of seconds, laying rough kisses down your spine with patience and attention. Every single one was a spoken promise: I’m coming back for you.

“Look at you, baby, takin’ a real man all by yourself.”

Hands on your hips, knees pressed to the worn-in mattress—every other word in the English language omitted itself from your vocabulary as Joel drew his name from your lips over and over and over again, the thick length of his cock easing you to oblivion with every gratifying stroke.

“Gonna make this pussy come til’ you’re begging me to stop, sweetheart.”

Feeling his cum drip down your thigh, barely having a second to breathe before being manhandled onto your back, hands searching your body, mapping you out like a foreign land before taking him in again. “It aches, Joel.” Crying softly into his neck, tears of pain and ecstasy leaking down your cheeks. “M’jus’ breakin’ you in, angel.” The smell of his hair anchoring your senses to right here, right now as release washes over you again and again and oh, Joel’s hands on the outsides of your thighs to steady your shaking legs.

“Eyes up baby, wanna see ‘em while I’m comin’ on that pretty face.”

Joel tasted like salt and sin and his stickiness on your cheeks felt warm like a late august sun. Watching you blink your lust-filled and trust-filled eyes, grabbing a fistful of your tangled hair, Joel memorized the way your pouting mouth looked painted with his seed. Thick, dark eyebrows creasing together as a groaned ‘fuckin’ hell’ fell from his open lips—with you, he became an artist, and with him, you were a blank canvas.

Now, the moonlit room was quiet; with every primal need purged from both your systems, your exhausted bodies lay entangled, empty and content. Joel’s heartbeat had settled a few minutes after yours—you’d made note of it with your ear pressed to his chest. But every twitch or fidget from the hand resting on the curve of your waist had your own rhythm picking up double-time, sending hot blood coursing through every now-aching limb.

“You should go,” he grumbles after a while, eyes still closed, body still at rest. Fucking you had basically rendered the man comatose. “Your dad’ll raise hell if he sees an empty bed.”

You scoff. “It’s not like he’s ever cared before—remember when Emma and I snuck out to the old mall and I radio’ed him to get us out?” Joel chuckles, remembering the fond memory. After all, it had been him and not your old man who’d shown up to kick down those crumbling cinema doors, partly rescuing you but mostly reaming you out for being such a careless, stupid teenager.

“And either way, Miller, I’m an adult.”

This time, it’s Joel’s turn to scoff. “Jus’ ‘cause you’re legal, dun’ make you an ‘adult.’ You still whine like a kid.”

You giggle softly as he mocks your indignant tone, feeling the lungs beneath you rumble subtly, too.

Joel was always softest and at his most vulnerable after sex. Well, aren’t all men the same? You figured it was just the nature of the act that left its participants a little more tender and a little less inhibited after its completion. It was strange to remember that Joel was a man like any other.

And the man that you’d allowed to ruin you so skillfully, to burn himself on the archives of your mind, somehow remained a complete mystery to you. He was a tangled web of stifled emotions, unspoken sentences, and chilling stories you’d heard from your inebriated father.

If there was any time to untangle him, it was now.

Joel’s t-shirt is damp with his sweat, and yours, too. What a shame that he hadn’t removed it earlier. He was so very impatient when it came to fucking you, and despite having enough patience this time to get you naked, he didn’t bother to give himself that same treatment. At this point, you felt too self-conscious to ask, pretty well certain that he’d turn down your request, anyways. Peeling your profile from the navy blue fabric, you gaze up at him inquisitively, a steadying hand pressed tentatively against his broad chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Your voice sounds small, like that of a scared child. It makes you cringe.

“Hmph,” he grunts, eyes firmly closed.

Better than nothing. A start.

“Well,” you begin, painfully slowly, tracing timid circles under his collarbone, “Sometimes, I think—”

“S’great, sweetheart,” he interjects in mock earnestness. “Good for you.”

“Knock it off, Miller,” you slap his shoulder playfully. A sly, amused expression teases his features.

After a long, heavy pause, with only the trickling and creaking of the old building occupying it, you soldier on.

“Sometimes, I think that when you’re… well, fucking me… you, well, you kind of use me to—vent.” There. You’d said it. “Like, your frustrations.”

A long exhalation escapes Joel’s lips as he mulls over your words, choosing eventually to respond with cautious and dismissive humor.

“This your way of askin’ me if you’re more’n my human Xanax?”

“No, asshole.”

He hums quietly. The distant sound of a gunshot travels through the open window, dragging you both back to the present moment.

A forced sigh. “I wanted to ask you what you’re trying to get off your mind.”

Joel tenses almost imperceptibly underneath you, an air of seriousness collecting around him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grumbles, amusement fading from his tone. “M’not really interested in talkin’ about our feelings together.”

The harshness of his words only entices you to push him again, to understand the man who so clearly understood you. There was something there–likely many things there–that he had fucked into you. Things that you now need to know. Things calling to you like an abandoned childhood home.  

You want to pull him into yourself, crawl under his very skin and exist there for a minute or two. In his bed, in his place, and you’re still worlds apart.

“I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings, Miller. I just want to know that I’m not letting, like, a total, raging maniac climb between my knees.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His eyes flit open, and as soon as they do, you recognize the vacant, apathetic expression that had characterized him for you all these years. He grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows, and you sit up, yanking at the tangled sheets to cover yourself.

“Ever been outside the QZ, sweetheart?” He asks, his poorly restrained temper slicing through his words.

Looking down at your hands, you trace the cream-colored creases stretching along the blanket, shaking your head no, side to side.

“S’right. Not a single man on this planet that’s not a total, raging maniac. Enough fear, thirst, or hunger…” something truly terrifying creeps onto his expression, a vision of darkness, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Not with soldiers, not with your father, not even with Joel.

“Everyone’s a killer.”

You swallow slowly, trailing your eyes up to meet his charged gaze. The room feels cold.

“Are you?”

His shadowed eyes narrow with irritation. “Am I what, sweetheart?”

“A killer.”

Then it’s regret and violence corrupting his features, and before you know it, Joel Miller is somewhere else. It takes a long time for him to come back to you (if you can even pretend to claim that Joel had ever been with you in the first place).

He hesitates, huffing quickly with frustration and looking away for a brief moment before focussing back on you—conceding to your question with a quick nod.

An acidic taste collects on your tongue, but his answer isn’t surprising. You’d always known in some way that Joel had taken lives. Still, it felt strange to hear him acknowledging it, to see the pain that admitting to it caused him. His actions actually bothered him. That meant he had a soul in some jagged, twisted form and that certain things could affect it. Thinking about that made your temples hurt.

“For what reason?”

You can’t help it—you’d come this far, and it felt like failure to quit prying. It doesn’t matter that Joel’s a grenade with no safety lever. You know it’s only a matter of time before he explodes, but you’d grown up diffusing your father daily. Bombs were your specialty.

“Does it matter?”

Upstairs, the floorboards creak softly. It almost makes you jump.

“I think so.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing with irritation. Otherwise, he stays surprisingly level. Some hopeful part of you tries to whisper that some softer part of him actually wants you to get under his skin.

“Alright.” You stare at him, stunned at his forfeiture, as he breathes a dark, humorless laugh. “But you’re gonna hate me for my answer.”

There’s a loaded pause as you gape expectantly at him. His head falls back, eyes fixed to the chipping, washed-out ceiling.

“In the early days of the outbreak, before FEDRA had the QZs figured out… things weren’t easy. You gotta understand that.” His gravelly voice cuts through the room’s silence, vibrating through your stilled body. “I’ve killed, tortured, n’hurt more people’n I can count. Sometimes to save myself, sometimes someone else, ‘n other times… other times jus’ because. And,” he groans, laying his back against the pillows as his harrowing monologue comes to a close, “It wasn’t always life or death, either.”

You pull the sheets in close to your chest, shuddering partly due to his words, partly due to his delivery. As if he was warning you. As if he wanted you to hear the truth and…

And punish him for it.

With his eyes shutting again, he can’t see you studying him. He’s probably assumed that a look of abject horror has poisoned your complexion. As you angle yourself to view his resting body—the pained expression causing his eyebrows to furrow, lips pressed tightly together—an overwhelming rush of adoration expands in your lungs, swelling inexplicably and uncontrollably in your chest. Your thoughts blare at full blast inside your racing mind.

Joel was capable; he had blood lust and an inner violence that meant he felt, deeply, and he’d die—or even better, kill—for those he loved. He was…

Joel was perfect.

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to feel—maybe it meant that you needed to be studied by a team of psychiatrists. Either way, the thought of his agonized soul, carrying on out of sheer spite and a reluctant desire to protect his own had you melting at his side. Joel wasn’t static, unfeeling, or a ghost, he was real, and he was alive. Growing up in a near-dead world haunted by once vibrant cities had made that trait alone extremely precious.

He remains still while you move his arm, wiggling next to him to sit back on your calves and looming over his unyielding form. Maybe he thinks you’ve pulled a gun on him and is just giving you a chance to pull the trigger.

Dropping the pale sheet from your breasts, you caress Joel’s harsh jaw in one hand, sneaking the other down, down his stomach and under the waistband of his briefs.

His eyes surge open, finding yours and filling with confusion. You burn with affection, a kind of fierceness that wasn’t there before.

Brow creasing, eyelids fluttering as he hardens in your grasp. You wordlessly entice him once again, bowing down and over to press tender kisses to his neck.

“I could never hate you, Joel Miller.”

He whimpers softly as you stroke him—tantalizingly slow in big, long pulls—it makes your heart flutter to hear him whine for you. 

A refreshing reversal of roles.

You ease your way down, trailing your lips down his scarred side and over to his front, exploring the strip of grey hair marking the center of his abdomen.

Joel watches you, longing on his lips, but the uncertainty still lingers. You need him to listen.

“I’d kill and torture if it meant survival—” you arrive at his hard length, pumping it in your hand right next to your softened features.

“And I would kill and torture for you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you part your lips around the tip of his cock, drinking in his fascination as you take him in slowly, wholly. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses the back of your throat. 

Once again, you’re filled with Joel. 

A soft hiss, and then his face becomes a symphony of pleasure, disbelief, and, finally, hunger. His large hand caresses the back of your head, capable fingers tangling softly in your hair as you glide up and down his length, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and your own acidity on his satin-smooth skin.

He only parts from your stare when you draw lazy, adoring circles around his tip, throwing his head back and grinding out a ‘Jesus Christ.’

It’s almost too much for him when you start using your hands, making it your life’s purpose to eagerly please every inch, every square millimeter of him. You drag your tongue from the base of his length all the way up to the top, silver-lined eyes boring intensely into his own.

“Shoulda let you do this sooner,” he breathes, gently pushing your head down until your nose brushes against those dark, curly hairs. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with a mouth full of cock.”

There he is.

You pull off him, strings of saliva trailing down from your lips to the glistening tip of his length. “You wanna come on my tongue?”

In a haze, perfectly slowly, Joel throws his head back with a low growl. You stroke him affectionately, spit and his own salt collecting between your fingers as you wait patiently for his reply.

Then he pushes himself up to a sitting position, wrapping his rough hands around your upper arms and easing you up off his length. “Not this time, baby.” You’re straddling him, taking in the unfamiliar care spoiling his tone and softening his hard features when he leans forward, locking you in place like a missing puzzle piece he’d spent his whole damn life searching for. His cock rests between your bodies, pressing exquisitely against your abdomen.

“Only got one more in me, sweetheart. M’not plannin’ on wastin’ it.”

He lifts his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks between them like some kind of priceless, fascinating object. It all feels so paradoxical: innocent despite the filthiness of his words, gentle despite the forest fires blazing in his gaze. Searching your eyes, he runs the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. 

And he kisses you.

It’s not bruising at first—it’s a soft, curious question, an experiment. The grey-flecked hair of his mustache brushes the crescent of your Cupid’s bow, and the feeling almost brings you to tears. So you lean into it, deepening the kiss with hard pressure, searching for the answer on his tongue. That’s when his hands tangle in your hair, and his lips steal the oxygen right out from your lungs as he reciprocates fiercely.

It’s like watching a prisoner take his first steps out into the sun after being held in isolation for a decade. You wonder if it had been that long for Joel.

Without breaking away, you trail a hand down the fabric of his t-shirt. Then, you’re grabbing it from the bottom and hitching it up his abdomen. He pulls away just a half-inch to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, his own marked with apprehension.

“I want all of you,” you plead breathlessly, sliding off his starved lips.

Joel ducks his head, staring at the meeting place between your fingers and his cotton.

“If…” he tries, words clumsy, voice gruff. A bit of bashful humour underscores his tone, too. “F’I let that happen, you’ll see that I’m really jus’ an old man, angel.” You begin to protest, having come prepared with another I-like-them-old-and-decrepit speech, but he cuts you off, anticipating your reaction. “Jus’ been a long time since I looked fit enough for somethin’ like you.”

It’s almost too ridiculous. Joel Miller, worried about how you’ll receive his appearance after you’d deep-throated him for admitting to Geneva-convention levels of violent crime.

This time, it's your turn to cup his face, cradling him reverently between your hands with passionate devotion.

“You and me might be different on the outside,” you begin, surprising yourself with the conviction dripping from your own tone. “But deep down? I’m just as rotten as you.”

His mouth breaks into a genuine smile, and he chuckles, creases lining the corners of his eyes as if carved there by God’s own hand. Nodding with concession, he shrugs his shirt off; you reach out to help him to pull it off entirely.

Scars, definition, and tan skin stretch with every shaky breath he takes. Fuck. The tips of your fingers explore him, honoured by the feel of likely being the first in ages to claim this spot, and that one, and this one here, too–Joel’s turned you into a conquistador, a crusader.

“You’re so, so handsome, Joel.”

It’s not enough to see him, wholly exposed, flesh-blood-skin-scars-and-muscle. Nothing’s ever made you feel so safe and so warm; Joel is a worn-out, hand-me-down jacket that you can’t seem to part with; he’s candles during a thunderstorm, a thick blanket begging you to wrap yourself in it. You want him on you, against you, inside you.

So you take the man, and you kiss him—ardently.

His breathing hitches when you grasp his length, and it stops completely when you slide it between your slick folds, pulling every inch of him inside yourself appreciatively. You swallow his groan as he inhales your gasp.

Your hips move together in tandem. Rocking against his thighs as his hands anchor into your hair, or on your breasts, your ass, your waist—Joel holds you as close to himself as physically possible, threatening to crush you between his arms, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip with a starving kind of need.

Old habits die hard. Joel gets swept up in the way you start struggling to kiss him back, the involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your helpless fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. Sliding his hands under your ass, he holds your hips steady. Then, he’s spreading you open to receive him more readily, dictating the rhythm, the angle, and the brutality of how he fucks you.

Ruining you to completion was quickly becoming an addiction.

He smiles against your mouth when you give him a muffled “mmm,” releasing your lips to watch, a captivated audience, as your eyebrows knit together, relishing the sound of your lungs filling with short, pleading gasps.

“Gonna be bruised inside n’ out, baby.” Joel’s promise barely registers over the clap of his skin against yours and your own wanton moans. A thoroughly cock-drunken expression and the worship of his name on your tongue win you some hard-earned praise.

“Taken me so many times tonight—been such a good lil’ toy.”

Your lips slide down the stubble and the rough skin of his cheek, limp body giving out with every punishing snap of his hips. Still, you attempt speech, stammering out a “Joel, I-I want—” that’s mostly unintelligible.

“I know, baby,” he coos, words muffled by your hair, hot breath fanning out over the valley of your neck. “S’hard to use your words when you’re jus’ so full, huh?”

After finding the strength to straighten up and face him, your mouth moves from its permanent ‘ah’ shape to string together a pleading, desperate sentence. Joel doesn’t make it easy for you, picking up the intensity of his strokes, dragging you to the edge of bliss.

“I wanna—I want you to show me how to ride you—to take you—please—let me make you come.”

He laughs softly into your shoulder: the sight and the sound of a woman begging to do the work was a kind of rarity (albeit an appreciated one, at his age) in his experience. Acquiescing, he lowers you back onto his broad thighs, slowing his rhythm, and giving you a chance to catch your shallow, uneven breath.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Like a true cocky bastard, Joel leans back against the mess of strewn pillows, casually tucking his hands behind his head and leaving you to steady yourself on top of him, velvet walls still fluttering and squeezing adoringly around him.

You hold yourself up with your palms pressed flat against his chest. Rock slowly and carefully against his hips, observe the sight of your fingernails pressing into his unyielding chest. A whimper tumbles from your sore, parted lips as Joel’s tip nudges your inner-most sensitive spot.

“Eyes on me.”

Hardened hands reach out to circle your waist. “You look at me when you’re riding,” he instructs.

“Show me how grateful you are for this cock.”

His voice is strict and firm but gentle all the same. Joel relaxes underneath you. It feels good—so good—to watch your body undoing his own; it feels even better when he flexes involuntarily inside you, stretching open your sore, aching, and somehow still needy cunt. Locked into his lustful, dominant gaze, you speed up, throwing your hips back to grind enthusiastically against him. He watches first your eyes and then your breasts, palming them, teasing your hardened nipples roughly.

“You wanna touch yourself?”

Low and gravelly and filthy, his question looms over your body, only adding to the soft thud drumming inside the eager bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

He makes you realize that you really, really do.

You nod eagerly at him; Joel gives you a knowing expression of sympathy.

He never could help his condescension at watching you crumble so easily from so little.

“Show me, angel.”

So you do–Joel holds you steady as your hand falls to your clit, drawing clumsy circles over that one aching spot. Your fingers are frustratingly unskilled compared to his, but at this level of arousal, you’ll do anything to ease that mounting pressure. You focus hard, multitasking through your euphoria.

Him watching as you pleasure yourself excites you. Squeezing him harder, riding him with newfound passion—Joel groans as his long-awaited orgasm builds between his thighs, watching you bounce up and down his tense, throbbing length. His darkening eyes beckon you to keep going, to tip him over the edge.

You want to fall into them when he comes inside you.  

He knocks your hand away, replacing your index and middle fingers with a broad, calloused, impatient thumb against your grateful bud. “Ohmygod–Joel–” and the rush worsens, his fingers acting as catalysts for the all-too-familiar sensations spreading across your core.

“With me, baby,” his voice is gruff, restrained by need, want, lust. “Lemme feel you comin’ when I fill you up–s’it, good fuckin’ girl–”

Tears collect on your lashes, and a sob heaves from your throat. You reach your climax for him, the ache from your clit spreading to overtake every inch of your body. Joel comes too. He tucks your head into the soft, damp skin of his neck and fists the hair at the back of your head. Your legs ache with absence the moment he pulls his fingers away from your core. Still, his only instinct as his seed spills between your walls is to pull you into himself as tightly as possible, to intertwine himself wholly and eternally with your young, devoted soul.

He doesn’t let you move after it’s over. One arm circles your waist, the other snakes up your back; it feels like standing at the base of the pearly gates of heaven. When his laborious exhales brush the top of your spine, it’s those damn angels sighing.

And it feels like he’s here. It feels like you’ve landed somewhere together, no longer strangers but something else. Something new. Something stronger. Sweeter. And worlds more dangerous.

Joel Miller running his thumb up and down the plunge of your neck. Joel Miller cursing himself for allowing you to take a hammer and chisel to the walls he’d spent painstaking years putting up, eternities before you were even born.

Joel Miller realizing that he can’t find it in himself to let you leave.

“For the record, sweetheart—I’d torture n’ kill for you, too.”

You have no trouble believing him, smiling softly against his shoulder.

—

TAGLIST: @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @daydreamerblues @spacelatinos4life @totallynotastanacc @honeycovered-bandaids @daddy-din @cedricbitch @tiredbuthappy @sweetpea99 @ghostfanwriter @daixylie @witchy-jadda @ninebluehearts @jbcalway @jasminedragoon @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett

—

Tumblr on mobile loves to destroy my fics by screwing with the last few hundred words SO here are the lyrics to Let Me Love You Like a Woman by Lana Del Rey lmao <3

I come from a small town, how about you? I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want you to come Eighty miles North or South will do I don't care where as long as you're with me And I'm with you and you let me

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in poems and songs Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me hold you like a baby

I come from a small town far away I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want (need) you to come I guess I could manage if you stay It's just if you do I can't see myself having any fun, so

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity

We could get lost in the purple rain Talk about the good old days We could get high on some pink champagne Baby, let me count the waves

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman

—

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Christopher Brown’s ‘A Natural History of Empty Lots’

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Christopher Brown is an accomplished post-cyberpunk sf writer, a tech lawyer with a sideline in public interest environmental law, the proud owner of one of the most striking homes I have ever seen, and an urban pastoralist who writes about wildlife in ways I've never seen and can't get enough of:

https://fieldnotes.christopherbrown.com/

All of these facets of Brown's identity come together today with the launch of A Natural History of Empty Lots: Field Notes from Urban Edgelands, Back Alleys and other Wild Places:

https://christopherbrown.com/a-natural-history-of-empty-lots/

This is a frustratingly hard to summarize book, because it requires a lot of backstory and explanation, and one of the things that makes this book so! fucking! great! is how skillfully Brown weaves all that stuff into his telling. Which makes me feel self-conscious as I try to summarize things, because there's no way I'll do this as well as he did, but whatever, here goes.

Brown is a transplant from rural Iowa to Austin, where he set out to start a family, practice tech law during the dotcom boom, and write science fiction, as part of a circle of writers loosely associated with cyberpunk icon @brucesterling. After both the economy and his marriage collapsed, Brown started his restless perambulations around Austin's abandoned places, sacrifice zones, the bones of failed housing starts and abandoned dot-crash office parks.

When he did, something changed in him. Slowly, his eyes learned to see things that they had just skipped over. Plants, animals, and spoor and carapaces and dens of all description, all around him, a secret world. These were not pockets of "wilderness" in the city, but they were pockets of wildness. Birds' nests woven with plastic fibers scavenged from nearby industrial dumpsters; trees taking root in half-submerged tires rolled into a creekbed, foxes and rodents playing out a real-life version of the classic ecosystem simulation exercise on the edge of an elevated highway that fills the same function as the edge of a woodland where predator and prey meet.

As Brown fell in love again – with the artist and architect Agustina Rodriguez – he conceived of a genuinely weird and amazing plan to build a house. A very weird house, in a very weird place. He bought a plot of wasteland that had once housed the head-end of an oil pipeline (connected to a nearby oil-storage facility that poisoned the people who lived near it, in an act of wanton environmental racism) and had been used as a construction-waste dump for years.

After securing an extremely unlikely loan, Brown remediated the plot, excavating the oil pipeline, then building the most striking home you have ever seen in the resulting trench. Brown is a pal of mine, and this is where I stay when I'm in Austin, and I can promise you, the pictures don't do it justice:

https://www.texasmonthly.com/style/christopher-brown-edgeland-house-austin/

Formally, A Natural History of Empty Lots is a memoir that explains all of this. But not really. Like I say, this is just the back story. What Natural History really is, is a series of loosely connected essays that explains how everything fits together: colonial conquest, Brown's failed marriage, his experience as a lawyer learning property law, what he learned by mobilizing that learning to help his neighbors defend the pockets of wildness that refuse to budge.

It's an erudite book, skipping back through millennia of history, sidewise through the ecology of Texas, all while somehow serving as a kind of spotter's guide to the wild things you can see in Austin – and maybe, in your town – if you know how to look. It's a book about how people change the land, and how the land changes people. It is filled with pastoral writing that summons Kim Stanley Robinson by way of Thoreau, and it sometimes frames its philosophical points the way a cyberpunk writer would – like Neal Stephenson writing a cyberpunk trilogy that is also the story of Leibniz and Newton fighting over credit for inventing calculus:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/11/20/neal-stephensons-system-of-the-world-concludes-the-baroque-trilogy/

Brown is a stupendous post-cyberpunk writer, and also a post-cyberpunk person, which I've known for sure since I happened upon him one morning, thoughtfully mowing his roof with a scythe:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/46433979075/

You can get a sense of what that means in this lockdown-era joint presentation that Chris, Bruce Sterling and I did on "cyberpunk and post-cyberpunk":

https://archive.org/details/asl-cyberpunk

Brown is a spectacular novelist. His ecofascist civil war trilogy that opens with Tropic of Kansas got so much right about the politics of American demagoguery and was perfectly timed with the Trump presidency:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/07/11/tropic-of-kansas-making-america-great-again-considered-harmful/

The sequel, Rule of Capture, uses the device of courtroom drama in a way that comes uncomfortably close to the Orwell/Kafka mashup that the authorities have created to deal with environmental protesters:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/08/12/rule-of-capture-inside-the-martial-law-tribunals-that-will-come-when-climate-deniers-become-climate-looters-and-start-rendering-environmentalists-for-offshore-torture/

And the final volume, Failed State, is one of the most complicated complicated utopias you could ask for. This is what people mean by "thrilling conclusion":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/12/failed-state/#chris-brown

As brilliant as Brown is in fiction mode, his nonfiction is unclassifiably, unforgettably brilliant. A Natural History of Empty Lots is the kind of book that challenges how you feel about the crossroads we're at, the place you live, and the place you want to be.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/17/cyberpunk-pastoralism/#time-to-mow-the-roof

[ozzgin]

Hello.

Do you think I can request headcanons for Nakamaro ?

Like in an alternate route, reader and him (he's in his twenties because... magic ?) are married and reader is pregnant.

But the funny thing is, Nakamaro can't bully the yokais because reader will exorcise him each time he tries.

Aaaaah I finished writing and only afterwards it occurred to me you might've wanted a modern day reader for this. 😭 I imagined the events in his own timeline. Oh well. I think it can work both ways. Just replace the ancient pouch with, I don't know, a visa card that he throws at your parents for wife payment.

Yandere! Onmyōji x Reader

Yokai Harem AU as the wife of Abe no Nakamaro, a legendary sorcerer and collector of yokai. Although you're not quite as powerless as to not keep his cruelty under control.

Content: female reader, arranged marriage, mentions of pregnancy

[Main Story] [Character Guide]

Your family had vehemently opposed the marriage. To think their one and only daughter would fall into the hands of such a cruel man. The famous Abe no Nakamaro, descendant of Abe no Seimei himself, has quite a contradicting reputation. He has saved many lives, cured countless illnesses, protected villages from monsters and brought peace to the land. Yet many have also witnessed his ruthless nature: the arrogance he has towards humans, the disdain and utter disgust he harbors towards demons. He is quick to punish, rarely forgives, and never forgets. The yokai he’s captured under a binding contract are kept on a leash, like cattle before slaughter.

It is this man who approached your parents one day, when you were still young, demanding your hand. He claimed you had special powers and a lot of potential under the right guidance. Such spiritual prowess would waste away in a family of plebeians. You don’t remember much of the discussion, only the expressions: the man’s mocking grin as he threw a pouch fattened with coins, the frown of your parents who wanted to refuse, the uneasy, grim eyes of the horned demons brought to intimidate. It was clear they were there against their will. One will find just how difficult it is to go against the wishes of the onmyōji, and you happened to be his most ardent desire. Thus, with a heavy heart, you’d been sent away with the stranger who promised you were to live a life of luxury. One your parents could never afford.

True to his word, you have not struggled since. In Akutagawa’s short masterpiece, Hell Screen, artist Yoshihide is wicked and vicious towards everything and everyone except his beloved daughter. Similarly, the sorcerer seems to have a soft spot for you in particular. He often praises your talent, and patiently caters to your whims without complaint. You once inquired about it yourself, as the idea weighed heavily on your mind: why is it that he does not show the same hostility towards you? He stared at you as if you just grew two more heads. "You're my wife. What else is there to question?"

This favoritism, however, is to the benefit of everyone. Especially to the yokai under his command. You've grown rather fond of the demons in your years spent alongside them, and they've quickly learned that your presence means safety from any punishment. Some need reassurance more than others. To these you've even begun to feel like a motherly figure, shielding them from the wrath of an unforgiving master. At last, an authority even Abe no Nakamaro himself can't disobey: the word of his wife.

And soon enough, as if your marriage wasn't already the ultimate argument, you welcome the return of your husband with the news he's always longed for: you are the soon-to-be mother of his child. His name has just been guaranteed to continue its course through time. To say he is elated is an understatement. You've only seen him smile so genuinely once before in your life, on your wedding day.

"Can you imagine the powers this child will command?" He muses, referring most likely to the fact you've both been blessed with an innate, unmatched talent in onmyōdō. You finish rolling the parchment paper and gently tap his head with the scroll in a scolding manner. "You better not burden the kid with your bizarre expectations!" The same man feared throughout the country is chuckling apologetically at your gesture. "As the Mother says."

[bldrdsh]

@waste-land-artist said:

“ I tried but failed. ” (from Amiee)

"If you are expecting to be pitied, you should look elsewhere."

IT'S UNUSUALLY cold for him, but she was wallowing, and all that was going to do is make everyone else miserable, as well as herself. She was capable of more. He believed so at least. But she seemed to need to convince herself, and if she couldn't she'd never succeed.

"You are better than this––sitting feeling sorry for yourself. You have already accomplished GETTING your father to project purity, FINDING him at all was a feat all its own. You're too young to be believing that you're not capable of failing and picking yourself back up."

HE HUFFS quietly, arms crossing over his chest for a second as he eyes her. He suspects this kind of TOUGH TREATMENT isn't going to sit well with her initially but it's what she needed.

"Pick yourself up...and try again. You are not alone, but the only one who can push you forward...is you."

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [1]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants. Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 5k

haha heyy I'm back after a year. Still suffering from writer's block so here's the start of a series I created during it, forcing myself to actually write. There's no set schedule but I'll try my best to do it weekly. That is all and pre-save Neva Play :DD

[1] [2] [3] [4]

__________

Maybe you should've cut off your mother before you went past the age for mark appearances.

If you had then maybe you wouldn't be suffering with the overcompensating rant about an unfortunate man and his bare minimum achievements.

What are you, Bangtan's—The current biggest boyband in the world—makeup artists since their era of wearing thick eyeliners to convey their passion and emo inspired hairstyles, doing, listening to someone's so-called gratifying achievements?

Staring at the source of the grating voice babbling nonsense, you refrain yourself from letting out a heavy sigh.

Jeong Binwoo is a stout man. His roundness is enhanced by the fact that he's an inch or so shorter than you on a good day. His face reminds you of a dumpling, especially now that he's stuffing it with a handful of greasy fries in quick successions. Despite his full mouth, he kept on speaking and you swore a few stray blobs had landed on your plate.

You've only just a week and a half before the start of their tour in Seoul and here you are wasting your time sitting in front of a man whose awareness is limited to only himself when you could've been at work or binging some stupid cliche drama.

Maybe you should've listened to Namjoon's statistical analysis of your dates this year and never bothered going to this meeting as well.

Your mother's recommendations so far had never brought you a man decent enough nor carry an ounce of respect your father has for your mother. Why you still try and date them is a question you've asked yourself one too many times.

His rant was the standard overcompensating life story of a man unfortunate enough to be given an ugly mug and an even uglier fate. A conversation topic you've been subjected to far more often than you'd liked but still smooths out your brain every time you're forced to listen to it. It might not be but it must've been an hour already since he started listing out the same adult milestones he achieved in his 28th year—you've done the same at a younger age, 20 to be exact.

Binwoo reached for your fries shamelessly when his fingers found his bowl empty and you couldn't stop yourself from grimacing this time. 

He was actually decent , compared to the other guys you've met before whose mouth spouted bullshit even the devil himself would gasp at. The man actually bought you a gift and opened and held the door for you.

'How disturbing that you think the bare minimum is a sign of a good man, noona.' A voice suspiciously sounding like Namjoon echoes in your head and you sighed for the nth time that afternoon.

If you weren't so weak against your mother's wishes, you would've been doing work instead of putting up with horrid dates over and over again. You'd willingly take on styling an energetic Jungkook at 6am trying to dodge your brushes and play fights with them then sit in front of another insecure man.

A clang of a metal utensil making contact on the tile took your attention to the two men sitting a few tables in front of you. Suddenly, you're reminded of the lovely bodyguards who have volunteered to watch the mess that is your love life for lunch.

You caught one of their gaze when he looked over his shoulder, pitiful, before kicking his friend's leg and picking up his phone.

Immediately, a vibration rang from your bag and you checked the message as discreetly as you could.

[13:24] Mimi: I feel so bad for you, noona. Is this really how guys are like these days? [13:24] Mimi: It's appalling how he thinks finally getting his own space at 28 is impressive. [13:24] Tete: do you need help? Please say yes, I don't think I can sit through the whole date and hear this bull. [13:25] Tete: Just seeing it is mentally scarring enough, I can't imagine how you're feeling as the one that has to actually listen.

"Hey, are you still listening? I hope I'm not talking too much." A voice interrupts before you could reply.

Looking up from your phone, Binwoo's face now displayed a sheepish smile, the smear of ketchup on the edge of his lips not going unnoticed. His greasy hand had reached behind his head to scratch the back of his nape and you had to gather every strength in your body to not grimace when the same fingers he ate with met scalp.

You try not to notice how oily and stiff his hair already looked. You really tried.

You shook your head despite wanting it all to end for the sake of appearing respectful and the man immediately continued his empty boasting, the same hand he scratched his neck returning to claw down at your fries without another thought and immediately your phone pings again.

[13:29] Mimi: did he just  [13:29] Mimi: did he just eat with the same hand he scratched with? On your plate of fries? [13:29] Mimi: I'm gonna barf [13:30] Mimi: Please free us from this torture, noona. My heart can only take so much [13:30] Tete: Screw this, we're going back. I can't do this anymore

A screech of a chair being dragged through tile took your attention back to the masked men in front of you and saw the tall and imposing form of Taehyung marching towards your table, brown beanie hiding his dyed hair and a black mask covering half of his face.

"The fucking gull you have to show your face here after you ran away with my heart last week!"

You sigh internally and hope he's not about to choose an embarrassing trope to follow through this time.

If he takes on another dramatic golden-spooned CEO character who throws tantrums when he can't do or get what he wants, you might just stab yourself with the butter knife next to you. Witnessing and being on the receiving end of his tantrums, even if it's acting, in such a public place like the park once is enough.

With a silent wish that Tae has picked a good trope to follow this time, you followed his lead.

Comically widening your eyes, your gaze bounced from Taehyung and Binwoo with a mystified look before sputtering out a reply.

"Wo-Wooyoung! I thought you went back to the states! How's being home again feels like?"

"Is this how you're gonna be? You're just gonna act like everything's alright after you took my youth ?!"

A couple of gasps erupted from the guests around you, in the seas of scandalized reactions there's a burst of hushed giggles from one guy in black from a particular table and you refrain yourself from glaring at his ducked head and shaking shoulders. The phone pointed in your direction didn't go unnoticed, no doubt recording it all from start to finish to send to the group chat as he always does.

Ever your biggest supporter.

At this point, everyone in the restaurant is looking at the three of you. A glance at Binwoo told you of how close you are to freedom. The man has hunched his shoulders, shrinking into himself, trying to disappear from the public gaze while his eyes busied itself by tracing the details on the tiles. He has long stopped from eating now as he hangs his head in embarrassment, ashamed to be associated with you.

"Hey, I'm sorry man. I didn't know you were like that, in your profile it said that you were experienced in hammering."

"I do woodworking, of course I'm amazing at it!"

You hear a dull thud erupt from two tables over. At the edge of your eyes you see Jimin hitting the table with a closed fist, his giggles a little louder; enough to gather a few confused eyes but quiet enough to limit the range to the patrons next to him.

"I-I'm so sorry."

Binwoo flushes before darting out, towing his black suitcase that looked suspiciously light, away from the eyes of everyone in the restaurant and relief floods your body, muscles relaxing as you watch his form disappear behind the partition between the tables and the exit.

You stare up at Taehyung to find him already looking back at you with crinkled eyes past the dim shades he was wearing, his cheekbones poking above the mask as he smiled.

With your date finally out of the shot, Jimin's laughter explodes into loud cackles of a mad man as he stands, stumbling before he manages to approach you both. When he was close enough, he latched onto Tae's arm to stabilize himself as he held up his phone with the camera app open. Immediately, everyone's displeasure echoed in the room at the implication that the intense scene they just witnessed was a part of a vlog.

Despite how much of a spur of a moment their plan seemed, the duo has managed to construct a simple start and conclusion to their plan and you couldn't be more proud of your smart boys.

Taehyung turned to the mass and bowed.

"I'm sorry for disrupting everyone's afternoon, I was just saving my sister from a bad date and decided to make a vlog out of it. We're really sorry." Taehyung exclaimed.

The disturbed patrons' voices grew louder and angrier, a few attempting to approach your little group to possibly get physical.

Next thing you know, Tae's grabbing the paper gift bag your date has given you earlier before reaching to your and Jimin's hand and pulling you both out of the restaurant at full speed with a wide grin, leaving behind indignant screams of 'YA!' . You couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out of your chest as you three raced down to the stairs, taking the safer and the long way down. You'd regret the decision later once your age kicks in and the ache on your knees comes but the thrill thrumming under your skin keeps you occupied.

They'd probably ban you from ever entering the establishment but for now, you could care less, the place felt too pretentious for you anyways.

The laughter didn't stop even when you entered Taehyung's car, your joined delight bouncing off the small space and when it ceased, a satisfied silence followed. You and Jimin sag to your seats as the giggles die down, arms clutching your stomachs while Taehyung hunches over the wheel.

Even with how ridiculous the youngest decides on how to go about destroying a date, you couldn't deny the overflowing gratitude you hold for the guy for selling his dignity. Although as an idol with an interesting internet background, you doubt he still has one.

"Wow, that went better than I expected."

"I'm never taking you both to my dates again."

Jimin rolled his eyes at you, lips tugged into a grin. "You say that and take us anyways."

"I'm so glad Tae didn't pull another jealous CEO persona, I was so embarrassed that day!"

"Hey! I still got you out so it's not that bad!" Tae protests, turning to the both of you on the backseat. "At least I didn't act like an embarrassing ex that cried and begged on his knees by the outlook!"

Jimin's swat was quick and Tae hissed and gasped dramatically, cradling his arm as if it was broken by the slap.

"Now he's trying to hit me!"

"Nonetheless, we did so well ruining your dates this month, noona. I think we deserve some reward." Jimin's lips tugged up into a sly smile, eyes glimmering with mischief as he suggestively raised his eyebrows.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Before you returned home, you had Tae stop by the nearest grilling restaurant to treat the two of them to a couple of orders of meat. If Jimin looked like a kicked puppy upon realizing you've misinterpreted his words, you didn't say anything.

In your defense, he didn't specify what he wanted. Even if he did, you wouldn't have entertained his flirty jokes.

Not a minute longer since the three of you had seated yourselves at a secluded corner at the far back of the restaurant did Jimin's phone ring. You didn't have to look at the screen to know it was Jungkook, ever so eager to hear about how his hyungs managed to scare off your date this time.

He treats it like he was watching those public prank videos on the internet but instead of random targets, it was your dates.

When the video call loads in, you are met with the sight of Jungkook and Jin sharing half the screen while the stylists hands tend to their hairs, stuck deciding between leaving a strand astray from their elevated fringes or keeping it neat.

"Hyung, did you manage to do what you were telling me last time?"

Taehyung grinned. "You should've seen how they all reacted!"

As Taehyung recalled the event with exaggerated movements and expressions—with Jimin adding his extraordinarily unique perspective every now and then—the plates full of meat to grill and bowls of rice you ordered came. Immediately, they were recognized by the waitress who bowed her head at them before shyly asking for an autograph. If you felt her eyes burning a hole through your skull throughout the encounter, you pretend not to notice.

You've introduced yourself as their make-up artist early on in their career, sneaking into their hearts with behind-the-scenes photographs of their idols. A few photographs in exchange of their respect which the boys and the company allowed. Even then, you wouldn't be able to avoid exchanges like these.

Once the waitress was gone, the boys continued to delight the others with their tales. They laughed and expressed their disgust, picking apart your date piece by piece down to his last molecule but as they continued noting down their observations, you started to feel that they're making up random facts out of spite.

Like, what do you mean you saw the guy kept wiggling in his seat to subtly scratch his ass? How did you even see that, Jimin?

But due to them sneaking out to be your guard dogs, they were called to return soon by an unimpressed Namjoon who took over the phone call at some point, threatening them with Hoseok who just laughed in response. You didn't miss the opportunity to rub your week-long rest in their faces with a smile when Taehyung and Jimin tried pouting their way out of punishment.

They ended up being given the chance to at least finish their food before they're given the countdown when Jimin bribed them with takeout.

"Come with us to drink that memory away instead, noona! Hyung and I are better drinking buddies anyways."

You waved Hoseok off. "I don't think Sejin would appreciate me distracting you guys more than I already do."

"Look into my eyes and say that you don't want to drink the memory away!" Yoongi said matter-of-factly from somewhere in the background.

"We won't even drink much, promise!"

"Stop lying to yourself, Hoba. We know you'd tap out after the third glass."  Jin snickered.

"Hey, I've changed! I can do four now."

Before you could further shoot his idea down, your phone flashes open with a ring displaying your mother's name and your heart drops. As if sensing the change in the air, their heads perked up to look at you.

You knew she'll contact you eventually but seeing her name on the screen glare back at you, a shiver wracks down your spine.

"Who is it?" 

"It's my mom."

Jimin and Taehyung gasped, shushing the people on the other line like kids trying to hide a stray pet from their parents who came home as you answered the call.

"Hello my dearest daughter, tell me why the hell did Binwoo's mother just call me to tell me that you've been going around stealing people's youths?! I don't remember raising you to be such a person!"

Despite not having the call on speaker, her rage is loud enough for the other two to hear. Instead of sending pitying looks towards you like a proper friend should, they were grinning and trying to stop themselves from cackling. Your mother's screeching evolved into rapid fire scolding with barely any breathing in between, sending your companions into silent laughter.

You could only glare as Taehyung threw his head back as he guffawed noiselessly while Jimin had hunched over the table, his shaking shoulders being the only indicator that he too was laughing.

Kicking them both under the table, you gathered the courage to interrupt your mother so she could breathe.

"Mom, it was just a friend who wanted to save me from Binwoo."

"A friend?!? A friend my foot! He must be an-uh what do you call it these days—a friend with benefits! Here I thought you've been busy fussing over those Bangtan boys to fool around!"

At this, their ears perked up, attention falling to yours.

"God! If you just started dating them then I wouldn't have to stress myself over finding you a husband!"

Taehyung sobers up, playing with the meat on the grill as he whispers. "Oh I wish auntie but noona is too professi—ow!"

Your foot swiftly connects with his shin and Taehyung hunches over the table, hand disappearing down to cradle his foot.

"I assure you, Mom, if you've seen how he acted, you'd thank your daughter for dodging such a disgusting guy. He didn't even ask me permission to eat my fries!"

"Aishhhhh! If you were here I would've hung you upside down in a sack outside our house! God, I'm gonna have a cardiac arrest because of you!"

"The guy is really my friend, mom! It's the same guy who interrupted my dates before. Remember the crazy CEO?"

"I know I know! But with how picky you are, you'll end up alone! I know you're trying to wait for your soulmate but you're 26 now! You're way past the maximum marking age!"

Taehyung and Jimin fall silent as an awkward silence settles between your group, continuing to place their pork into the leaves and engulfing them almost meekly; almost because the way they ate the wrap is far from graceful.

You've known that for a year now, accepted your fate but the reminder made your heart ache. Imagine how it was for a hopeless romantic, who dreamt of fated meetings and whimsical red strings on your pinkie, to find out that they're untethered. Even then, a small part of you, a much younger version, keeps hoping for a chance that you're just a late bloomer.

Who wouldn't want true love for themselves?

Even a solitary man would crave affection.

"I-I know that. But you can't expect me to settle for less, you wouldn't want to see your dear daughter in a miserable marriage do you?"

There's a deep sigh from the other line and you could imagine your mom pinch the bridge of her nose before she spoke:

"I'm just worried, I hope you understand. I'm not getting any younger. Your older brother and sister already have their own family and seeing them happy while you're still on your own, it hurts this old woman's heart, you know?"

There's a quick succession of dull thuds from across the line and you assumed your mother was hitting her chest with her fist, ever the dramatic.

Jimin flips the newly added meat on the grill, taking the cooked strips to distribute between yours and Taehyung's bowl. It was such a small gesture yet it made your stomach flutter for a second. Always the caring and golden hearted boy you've met years ago that never hesitated to give you hugs and make you smile either with exaggerated movements or from touch alone.

If only there's more Jimin in the world, you would've been married a long time ago and you wouldn't have to deal with your mother's horrible matchmaking.

You sighed. "I know, I'm trying my best so don't worry too much."

"That's my youngest. Now, since you're trying, I have another—"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Mom, please."

"I swear this guy is better. He's a lawyer, 30 years old, and he's got a penthouse!"

There's a shrill ding! from your phone and you turned to look at your screen to find yourself staring back at a picture of the suitor your mother was just talking about. In a blink, Jimin and Taehyung have teleported  behind you with side dishes in hand as they peered over your shoulder to look at the photo.

The picture was roughly cropped and showed a man in a tailored black suit leaning against what looks like his mother from how similar the shape of their eyes and lips are. He had his coat hanging from his arm, giving you a full view of how his chest and shoulders filled out his white button up. With a narrow and refined jawline, topped off with good hair waxed into a small quiff and a pair of sunken dimples on each side of his bowstring lips, as an idol's makeup artist, you wondered how it is possible for him to be single.

But what distracted you more was how your mother has sent you someone visually appealing instead of the challenged men she had recommended to you. It's making the ends of the hair on your arm stand up.

It's new and it's creeping you out.

You make a mental note to ask your father about her strange behavior.

"His name is Yoo Guwon, isn't he good looking? His mother and I met at the salon by the market in front of your aunt Jia. I saw him once and he looks exactly like he does in that picture!"

"He looks good."

A hiss following a slap muted by thick clothing erupted from behind you, looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung staring at Jimin with a shocked and betrayed expression.

"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be against this!"

"Well now that you've mentioned it," Jimin hums, crossing his arms as he leaned closer over your shoulders. "He does look like a manipulator. He has the eye and facial structure for it."

You turned to him with a puzzled expression. "What do you even mean—"

"No no no wait, I can see what you mean." Taehyung butts in, narrowing his eyes as he also inched closer to the screen on the other side of your face before reaching over to expand on the man's face.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still not seeing how a skull's formation could mean manipulator in their eyes. But before you could ask how they came to the conclusion, your mother gasped.

"Is that one of your boys? Taehyung and Jimin?"  

"Yeah, I took them out for some meat since they saved me earlier."

"Oh? Put me on speaker, I want to talk to them!" You obeyed her and hummed a confirmation before holding your phone towards them. "I hope my daughter hasn't disrupted your busy schedules to play jealous exes for her."

Jimin laughs. "It's nothing too much, auntie~ She took great care of us back then, it's just us repaying the debt! Besides, I like watching her fail her dates!"

"Oh aren't you quite mischievous?" Her tone was teasing and delighted as she giggled. "Don't enjoy it too much, okay? My daughter needs to get married soon!"

"Don't worry too much, auntie! I also want our noona to find a good husband!"

"What a sweet boy! Too bad company rules can't let you date, I would've loved you as my son-in-law."

A smile stretched across Jimin's face as he shyly laughed, hiding his delight behind a hand. "You can't say that and expect me to not try and court your daughter, auntie!"

"What about me, auntie? I sold my dignity just to push away her creepy suitors when hyung only sat back to record. I did a lot!" Taehyung jumps in with a pout, feeling left out of the conversation.

"Any of you boys are welcome in my family as long as my daughter is married and treated well! Ok, I'll stop now since I have some friends to meet up with. Visit me soon, my lovely daughter!"

After saying your goodbyes and your i-love-you's, the call ends. Immediately, your phone was fished out from your hands by Taehyung as the two boys returned to their seats, zooming in on Guwon's face and speaking in hushed whispers among themselves. At least until Jin and Jungkook's insistence to be included in the discussion came booming.

"Ya Taehyung! Aren't we friends for so long? Why are you not showing us the picture like a normal friend would do? Forward it to the GC!"

Even after forwarding the picture to the GC, they're still far from pleased after being ignored for so long. Jungkook and Jin didn't spare any words from expressing their wrath, especially the elder. A problem easily buried for everyone to forget with an offer of bringing food when they come home. Your mother expressing her openness to the idea of having any of your bosses as your husband seems to breeze past their heads. You do have an inkling they'll discuss amongst themselves later on.

Soon, Jimin and Taehyung are dropping you at your apartment building, parting ways with hugs before they leave.

Since you've finally claimed some of the absent days you've gathered throughout the years for a nice week off before the eventual tour, you decided to take full advantage of it by treating yourself with a nice night in, stuffing yourself with ice cream and an unhealthy amount of pizzas. Doors locked and blinds shut.

Just you and your TV.

And the generic drama that's playing before you.

It's about a poor girl who got rescued by a handsome rich man who has an obsessed admirer and a family who opposes their relationship despite the soulmate mark they both wore due to their different levels in society.

The trope has been overused but you indulge in it anyways.

But as the night gets deeper and the plot thickens to its climax, you find yourself slowly liking it. Watching the young couple be domestic around their apartment, your heart starts to yearn. Their kisses looked fantastical and sweet, as if the taste of each other could energize them for the whole month. 

You watched as brief passing touches scream louder than words, eyed the way their arms wrapped around waists with jealousy and wondered when you'd be able to experience such a thing too.

Emotional torture is what you're doing but you couldn't find it in yourself to stop watching it.

You remembered how realization felt like plunging into the darkest depths in the ocean, cold and harsh, the pain in your chest when your 21st passed by without any notable changes in your life. 

You recalled how you'd wake up and excitedly look over your skin for a hint everyday with no fail, hoping for a telltale sign that you weren't assigned to a fate of love bare of the genuine and rawness of a soulbond. The devastation gnawing at your dreams when your 21st ends uneventfully and the 22nd comes with the same nothingness still fresh in your mind.

There wasn't a cure for being untethered but you learned soon how to accept your fate. Having your friends comfort you through those years helped. From the maknaes' grounding tight hugs to Yoongi's silent support in the form of distractions and Seokjin's insistence on how unimportant soulmates are, healing came easier with them by your side.

Being untethered or alone isn't a disease cured by human medicine but you think your friends' support came close.

Your phone then vibrates, taking you out of the train of thought you got yourself into, screen lighting up to a message from an unknown user.

[21:39] Unknown: Hey, it's me Yoo Guwon. Your mother gave me your number and said to contact you first because you might be busy with work.

None of the suitors your mother has brought forth has ever worked out. At this point, you should ask her to stop and try to find a good man yourself.

But none of them ever made the effort to reach out first.

But he's a lawyer and you know damn well what they're good at .

He looks cute and tall though, got a good background as well.

Everyone before him also had that.

With a heavy exhale, you picked your phone up and opened his message.

[21:40] You: Hello, I'm actually on a week-long break so I'm just rotting on my couch instead haha

"That's too awkward." You muttered to yourself, subconsciously biting your lips as you rephrased the message a couple more times, frantically deleting and adding words onto your ever growing introduction message.

But then it's too wordy, it makes you sound desperate so you deleted it all again, starting once more from the beginning.

You didn't even get to send it when Guwon sent another message.

[21:48] Yoo Guwon: I'm free tomorrow, I hope you are too. What do you usually like to do?

He's giving me options? You stared at the screen with furrowed eyebrows before narrowing at it suspiciously.

What's up with this guy? Why isn't he taking the lead?

[21:50] You: I'm more often working and staying at home than visiting places so I don't know where ;-;. I'll go wherever you want to go. [21:51] Yoo Guwon: It's fine, just send me your address and I'll pick you up tomorrow at 9am, dress formal casual.

Throwing your phone to the side, you reached for the canned beer from your table and took a long sip before titling your head back to stare at the ceiling. There's a careful rise in your heartbeat, a traitorous action of your body. It was hopeful and you hated how you felt like that, you sighed again for the nth time that day but for a different reason.

Your mind takes you back to the mischievous duo, wondering if you should take one of them for this date but find yourself shutting the idea down as quick as it came. The guy looks decent enough for a solo adventure, going alone shouldn't hurt.

Maybe this time will be different.

[svt-luna]

ᡴꪫ ⋆ GAME CATERERS X SVT ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 1-4.

Game Caterers x SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 1-4! The continuation of the character quiz which leads to the epic conclusion. Will the members of SEVENTEEN be able to eat... at all?

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰౨ৎ fan reactions ╰౨ৎ game caterers masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ᡣ𐭩

bold dialogues are spoken in english ᡣ𐭩

The members of SEVENTEEN gathered around the table, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation as they prepared for the next round. The tension from the previous rounds lingered, but there was also an undercurrent of excitement.

Dino, always the optimistic maknae, voiced the collective determination with a firm, "We can do it." His words served as a rallying cry, boosting their morale as they readied themselves for the challenge ahead. The room was filled with the familiar sounds of laughter, light-hearted banter, and the occasional exclamation.

[Round 7]

PD Na, ever the efficient host, wasted no time as his eyes landed on Mingyu, the first in line for this round. With a slight nod, he showed the picture to Mingyu and began the countdown, "1, 2, 3."

“Paik Jong Won,” Mingyu answered confidently, his voice strong and assured. The members erupted in praise, their trust in Mingyu’s ability paying off.

[100% accuracy so far]

"You got it," PD Na confirmed with a small smile before swiftly moving on to the next in line— Luna. She leaned back slightly in her chair, her posture relaxed but her focus intense. The picture was revealed to her, and PD Na began counting down once more, "1, 2, 3."

“Yoo Jae Suk,” Luna responded without hesitation. The room filled with the sound of clapping and compliments, a chorus of “Good job!” and “Nice one!” echoing from all sides.

[Another Ace]

“Correct,” PD Na acknowledged, his approval clear as he moved on to Dino. The youngest member leaned forward, ready and waiting as the picture was shown to him.

"1, 2, 3."

“Suzy,” Dino answered quickly, his voice full of confidence.

“Good!” Dokyeom exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he clapped enthusiastically for Dino’s success.

Without a moment’s delay, PD Na moved to Seungkwan, the next in line. The picture was revealed, and the countdown began, "1, 2, 3."

“Yang Sehyung,” Seungkwan answered with absolute confidence, standing up as he did, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed once again, and the group continued to cheer for each other, the atmosphere thick with tension and excitement.

Next in line was S.Coups, and as the picture was shown, the rest of the members all started muttering the answer to themselves, a collective whisper that filled the room. But S.Coups seemed to struggle, the pressure clearly mounting as he tried to recall the name.

"1, 2, 3…" PD Na counted down, and S.Coups, visibly flustered, stuttered, “Song… Song…” But it was too late, and he fell to his knees in defeat as the members around him groaned in frustration, their collective shout of the correct answer nearly deafening.

"Yoon!"

[All together]

Seungkwan and Jeonghan, who were seated on either side of him, couldn’t help but smack him on the back in mock frustration, yelling the answer into the air, their voices a mixture of exasperation and humor.

Jeonghan turned to Vernon, who was watching the scene unfold with a knowing smile and gestured toward S.Coups. “See? I was right. It’ll end here,” he said with a resigned shrug, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

[It's over]

After struggling to answer, he dropped to his knees in despair, a dramatic gesture that drew collective amusement from his fellow members. As if on cue, they began to sing a song by the artist whose name S.Coups had failed to recall, their voices merging into a playful chorus that only heightened the hilarity of the situation.

[Teasing]

['REALLY REALLY' by Winner, written and composed by Yoon]

Meanwhile, Vernon, ever the quiet observer, seized the opportunity to remove a dish from the table. He stood up, grabbed a container without a word, and discreetly took it away, knowing full well the group would soon be too distracted by their leader’s antics to notice.

S.Coups, still on his knees, tried to salvage the moment by bowing and saying, "Who… Hello, Yoon," before pointing behind him, gesturing vaguely as he added, "Someone said Song."

Jeonghan, quick to rebut, replied, "Who said Song? We all said Kang," gesturing toward the members who had tried to help S.Coups by muttering the correct answer. The room erupted in laughter as S.Coups collapsed onto Jeonghan’s legs in mock defeat, clinging to them as if they were his last hope before he finally returned to his chair, laughing at his own mistake.

PD Na, ever the playful instigator, mockingly chided S.Coups, "Still, if it was someone from a different field or a senior, you can just feel sorry, but he's a fellow singer."

[He's a fellow singer]

Luna, always quick with a playful jab, joined in, "You're terrible at this," her words earning a nod of agreement from Jeonghan, who added with a grin, "You're not good at this."

[Bunny power]

Mingyu, unable to resist, teased, "I bet if Seung Yoon had to answer you, he wouldn't get it."

S.Coups, still laughing, shook his head in agreement. "Right. He wouldn't get me."

"I can ask him now," PD Na offered, leaning into the joke.

"I'm sure he wouldn't," S.Coups said, his laughter bubbling up once more.

Seungkwan, ever the sharp-witted one, deadpanned from beside S.Coups, "Maybe because you're not as famous," causing the room to explode with laughter and a chorus of "Oohs" at the playful burn.

S.Coups stood up, chuckling as he shook his head in mock defeat.

As the members prepared for round eight, the room buzzed with anticipation. They began to shuffle their seats, deciding that S.Coups, after his earlier blunder, should go last. Woozi was moved to the front, while the rest adjusted their positions according to their preferences.

[S.COUPS moves to the back]

[WOOZI moves to the front]

Amidst the reshuffling, Luna found herself seated in the center, between Dino and Wonwoo. Dino was calm and ready, but Wonwoo, too nervous to sit, paced back and forth behind Luna, anxiously preparing for his turn.

PD Na observed the new arrangement and turned to Woozi with a hint of expectation. "Yes. I think Woozi will actually be good at it. Because you said you never leave home. What would he do at home?"

"I’ve been focusing the whole time," Woozi replied, his usual calm demeanor showing a hint of tension.

"How's your score so far?" PD Na inquired, curious about Woozi’s self-assessment.

"It wasn't high. Honestly, I've been practicing this quietly. This is really hard," Woozi admitted with a small smile. Determined, he added, "I'll do my very best."

From his seat, Mingyu leaned back casually and offered some advice. "Relax. Lean back. Just do it. Do your best."

Woozi, catching onto Mingyu’s laid-back approach, mimicked his posture, sitting arrogantly as he replied, "I know them all."

Luna, sitting comfortably in the center, couldn’t help but add, "The Kim Mingyu method really does work," recognizing that confidence was a big part of the game.

[New method for the quiz: 'Kim Mingyu Method']

Mingyu, eager to reinforce his point, pointed at himself and asked Woozi, "Look. Who am I?"

"Mingyu," Woozi answered without hesitation.

"That’s it. Who’s this?" Mingyu pointed at Seungkwan.

"Seungkwan," Woozi replied, catching onto the simplicity of Mingyu’s strategy.

"That’s how you play," Mingyu said, grinning.

Woozi, now fully engaged in the playful banter, pointed at Jeonghan and confidently said, "Jeonghan."

"That’s right. Good," Mingyu encouraged, enjoying the light-hearted moment.

PD Na, seeing the playful yet effective strategy, added, "Keep that tone."

[Done practicing]

[Round 8]

PD Na, with a mischievous smile, reminded Woozi, “Say it clearly,” before revealing the next picture.

“1, 2, 3,” he counted down.

“IU,” Woozi announced confidently, and the room erupted in cheers and applause.

[Ji Hoon did it]

[As if he was a baby taking his first step]

“We filmed together once before,” Woozi added, a small smile of pride tugging at his lips.

[Touched]

“You were on ‘IU's Palette’,” Hoshi pointed out, bringing up the show where Woozi and IU had a chance to interact.

“We almost became friends,” Seungkwan chimed in, playfully adding to the banter.

Mingyu, eager to keep the momentum going, asked, “Can we proceed?”

“Sure,” Seungkwan and Jeonghan nodded in agreement, their excitement palpable.

PD Na then turned to Mingyu, showing him the next picture.

“1, 2, 3,” he counted down.

“Cho Jinwoong,” Mingyu declared as he stood up, visibly amazed at his own accuracy.

[His shoulders are reaching 61cm]

“Good job, Mingyu,” Dokyeom praised him, his words echoed by the other members’ cheers.

Without wasting time, PD Na moved on to Seungkwan, showing the next picture.

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down.

“Joo Hyun Young!” Seungkwan answered with exaggerated enthusiasm, jumping to his feet as the room exploded with cheers once more.

Next was Jeonghan, who raised his hands, “Wait. Wait. Wait,” he said, trying to keep his cool before PD Na revealed the picture.

[Keeping inner peace]

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down.

“Joo Woo Jae,” Jeonghan answered, and the room’s energy reached a new high as half the members jumped up in excitement, their voices overlapping in an intense chorus of celebration.

“My goodness. We’ll get to play,” someone exclaimed.

“It’s coming!”

“Nice!”

“We have hope.”

“You were lucky,” PD Na teased Jeonghan, but his eyes were already on Dino, showing him the next picture.

As Dino saw the picture of Seungkwan, Jeonghan, and Luna, who were sitting on either side of him, instinctively covered their mouths, trying to hide their whispering.

“Boo Seungkwan,” they both murmured quietly, just in case Dino needed the extra nudge.

[Mom and Dad were saying the answer just in case Dino doesn't get it]

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down.

“Seungkwan,” Dino laughed as he answered, and everyone cheered as Seungkwan grinned proudly, seeing his own picture.

[He got his own picture]

Luna was next. Despite the excitement and the loud cheers from the members, half of whom were now standing, she remained seated with a nervous smile, her fingers playing with the necklace around her neck. Her eyes were fixed on PD Na, focused yet anxious.

[The 'Kim Mingyu Method' is lost on her]

Jeonghan noticed her nervousness immediately. With a gentle yet firm voice, he raised his hand, “Wait. Wait. Wait,” signaling for everyone to calm down. The members, sensing the seriousness in Jeonghan’s tone, quickly quieted down, creating a space for Luna to concentrate.

PD Na then revealed the next picture, showing a familiar animated character.

“1, 2, 3,” he counted down.

“Elsa!” Luna jumped from her seat, excitement flooding her voice.

The room erupted in the loudest cheers yet. They had hit the halfway mark— a feat that had never happened before.

[They reached halfway for the first time]

PD Na moved on to Wonwoo, who was still behind his seat, gripping the backrest with a determined expression. The tension in the room was palpable as all eyes were on him, the silence amplifying the anticipation.

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down, revealing the next picture.

“Doolie,” Wonwoo answered calmly, his voice steady.

The room exploded into cheers as the members who had already answered jumped to their feet. Vernon stood there, wide-eyed, his fist raised to his mouth in awe. The accomplishment was significant, and the energy in the room was electric.

[They're on the peak]

“It’s Vernon’s turn,” PD Na announced, as the focus shifted to Vernon. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as PD Na showed him the next picture.

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down.

“Kang Daniel,” Vernon answered without hesitation, drawing even more cheers from the group.

Dokyeom, who was next in line, stood up and braced himself, looking like he was about to tackle a lion. His eyes were wide with concentration, his body tense with determination. The pressure was mounting, not just for him, but for the remaining members who hadn’t gone yet. A chorus of murmurs filled the room, a mix of anxiety and encouragement.

“My goodness.”

“It’s coming.”

“Please don’t reach this far.”

The members whispered among themselves, the pressure of the upcoming turns weighing heavily on them.

PD Na showed Dokyeom the picture, counting down with his usual cadence. “1, 2, 3,” he said.

“Calm Down Man,” Dino whispered suddenly, magically appearing next to Dokyeom, relaying him the answer.

“Calm Down Man,” Dokyeom repeated, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness, but he managed to answer just in time.

Cheers erupted once more, though PD Na, unaware of the slight cheating, added, “You got it. It’s a warning. You were late.”

Minghao was next, and the atmosphere shifted as everyone turned their attention to him. The tension was palpable, especially between Minghao and Jun, who were holding hands in front of them. Their fingers were interlocked, and their faces were a mix of determination and sheer terror. It was an amusing sight that made PD Na laugh out loud.

[2 cats are shivering]

“Good luck. You can do it,” Jun encouraged Minghao, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“You can do it,” Dokyeom echoed, his voice full of confidence, trying to boost Minghao’s morale.

“You were good at it,” Minghao said to Dokyeom, his voice a little shaky but sincere.

Luna, sitting nearby, couldn’t help but soften at the sight of the two holding hands. “Oh my… They are so cute,” she remarked, her voice filled with affection. “It’s okay. Calm down, Haohao, Huihui,” she added, using their affectionate nicknames.

PD Na pointed at Minghao and Jun, chuckling as he observed their position. “They’re holding hands,” he noted with amusement.

Minghao, despite his nerves, managed to make a small joke. “Give me the easy one,” he said, his voice half-serious, half-pleading.

“Here we go,” PD Na responded, readying the picture. Minghao leaned forward, his focus sharpening as he prepared to answer.

“Give me the easy one,” Minghao repeated, his tone almost like a mantra to himself.

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down, revealing the image.

“NewJeans,” Minghao answered with a confident smile.

The room erupted in praise and relief. “Good job!” Luna exclaimed, proud of Minghao.

“Nice,” Dokyeom said, genuinely surprised as he pulled Minghao into a hug.

“It’s too small to see,” Vernon noted, still processing how close the call was.

“He covered Minji’s face,” Mingyu added, pointing out the difficulty of the image.

“I thought that was S.E.S.,” S.Coups admitted, which made Seungkwan scoff with laughter.

[But The8 was happy with the question]

PD Na’s voice cut through the cheers, bringing everyone back to focus. “Among two obstacles, you just passed one small obstacle. You have the big one left.” His words hung in the air, heightening the anticipation for the next turn.

[S.Coups is the Himalayas]

The members collectively turned to Jun, who was up next. PD Na held up the next picture, and the countdown began. “1, 2, 3…”

[Hesitant]

“Karina,” Jun answered, his voice slightly hesitant, but sure enough.

[He was late]

A moment of silence passed before the room exploded. The members stood up, pointing at Jun and shouting to PD Na, insisting that he got it right. Their excitement was palpable, filling the room with a renewed sense of energy.

“I almost said it's wrong,” PD Na admitted, a grin spreading across his face.

But Jun wasn’t done. “I can do the dance,” he said, and without missing a beat, he got on the ground to demonstrate.

['Black Mamba']

As he began to move, the familiar beats of 'Black Mamba' came to life in his mind, and he sang along, “‘Black Mamba’,” while performing the iconic choreography. His fluid movements and confident delivery had everyone laughing and clapping in appreciation.

Seungkwan, not wanting to be outdone, jumped in with another song, teasing Jun to keep going. “‘I’m on the next level’,” he sang, his voice carrying the tune as Jun seamlessly transitioned into the dance for 'Next Level,' his body following the rhythm effortlessly.

PD Na, watching Jun nail the dance with ease, confirmed with a nod, “A warning.”

[One more warning]

PD Na’s voice rang out, breaking the intense atmosphere that had settled over the group. "Now you have three members left," he announced, his gaze shifting to Joshua, who was now on his knees, Hoshi, who had his hands clasped together in a fervent prayer, and S.Coups, who was leaning forward with an intense focus. The tension was palpable.

[Urgh/Performance Team leader/Leader]

"This is crazy," Mingyu muttered, glancing nervously at the remaining players.

PD Na nodded in agreement. "From Joshua to S.Coups, we'll go fast. If S.Coups gets the answer, you win."

“Why am I getting so nervous?” S.Coups said, his hands now clasped to his chest as if he could physically steady the pounding of his heart. “He’s selecting the question,” he commented, watching as PD Na prepared to reveal the next image.

Joshua’s turn was up. PD Na showed him the picture and began the countdown. “1, 2, 3.”

“Cocomong,” Joshua answered quickly, his voice filled with a mix of certainty and calmness.

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed.

A collective gasp filled the room, followed by a chorus of excited murmurs. “Is that right? Is it Cocomong?” S.Coups asked, still in disbelief.

“It’s Cocomong,” Joshua repeated with a nod, confidence growing in his voice.

“Isn’t that Chocoemong?” Mingyu asked, a frown of confusion creasing his face.

“What?” Luna and Jeonghan simultaneously whipped around to face Mingyu, their expressions of shock and disbelief making him laugh sheepishly.

[Appalled]

“Chocoemong is what you drink after drinking,” Seungkwan corrected Mingyu with a deadpan expression, earning a round of laughter from the others.

PD Na gave a final nod. “You got it. The answer is Cocomong.”

With that confirmation, Hoshi jumped to his feet, his hands still clasped together as if in prayer. The tension in the room skyrocketed. “Hey, be quiet,” S.Coups hissed, trying to focus as they readied for Hoshi’s turn.

[Noisy people: S.Coups, The8, DK]

The members quickly rallied around Hoshi, trying to calm his nerves. “Let’s go, Hoshi,”

“Relax,”

“You got this,”

“The tiger’s eyes.”

[Next is the tiger's eyes, Hoshi]

PD Na revealed the next picture, and the countdown began. “1, 2, 3…”

There was a long, excruciating pause as Hoshi’s mind raced, but no words came out. Finally, he collapsed to his knees, letting out an agonized “Ahh!” that echoed around the room.

The members burst into laughter as PD Na’s voice cut through the chaos. “Wrong!” he declared, his tone full of mock disappointment.

Hoshi finally found his voice, albeit too late. “Lee Seok Hoon,” he muttered, now fully aware of his mistake.

[Too late]

The room buzzed with a chaotic mixture of reactions as Hoshi remained on his knees, the reality of his mistake settling in. Some members were in shock, wide-eyed and mouths agape, unable to believe that Hoshi had fumbled his answer. Others reacted with visible pain, feeling the weight of the near victory slipping away. Some rushed to Hoshi's side, offering comfort and pats on the back, trying to soothe his obvious distress. But there were also those who couldn’t help but laugh, their laughter mingling with the groans and sighs in the room.

[While everyone's in despair,]

[someone's happy]

Amidst the flurry of reactions, S.Coups felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over him. For once, it wasn't him who had cracked under pressure. A grin spread across his face as he stood up and made his way towards the swarm of members surrounding Hoshi. "It wasn't me. It wasn't me," he repeated gleefully, pointing at Hoshi, who was still on the ground. The weight of the moment had shifted entirely off his shoulders. "It was him."

[I'm happy that I didn't get it wrong]

[He got it wrong]

Now, all of them were standing, eyes fixated on Hoshi, who was still kneeling in defeat. The room was buzzing, but S.Coups’ relief was evident.

Luna, her heart softening at the sight of Hoshi’s guilty expression, went over to him, peeking through the crowd. “It’s okay,” she said softly, her chuckle light and gentle. “It’s alright.”

Hoshi glanced up at her, still looking remorseful, but her words seemed to bring a small amount of comfort.

Vernon and Mingyu stepped forward, each taking one of Hoshi’s arms and helping him to his feet. “It’s okay,” Vernon reassured him with a smile, while Mingyu patted his back. Hoshi tried to smile, though Dino’s laughter, which echoed loudly through the room, made it difficult to stay serious.

[Get up, warrior]

[You're pardoned]

[We can just remove the food]

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan said as he walked over to the table, glancing at the remaining food with a sigh. “Let’s remove yogurt.” He nodded towards Seungkwan, who quickly went over and removed the container from the table, a sign of moving past the small defeat.

[Yogurt is out] [4 dishes left]

As the group settled down for the next round, a sense of determination and camaraderie filled the air. Minghao was the first to break the silence, his voice calm but optimistic. "We see hope."

"We saw possibility," Dokyeom added, nodding in agreement.

"We reached very far," Jeonghan chimed in, acknowledging and reflecting on their progress.

Seungkwan, always quick with a response, said, "We almost had it."

Mingyu, nodded and said, "We just did pretty well."

Woozi, however, wasn’t ready to let Hoshi off the hook just yet. "I don't get how he couldn't get it," he said, shaking his head slightly.

"I agree," Mingyu said, echoing Woozi’s sentiment.

"That he didn't get Lee Seok Hoon?" Seungkwan clarified.

"Yes. Even I knew it," Woozi replied, still a bit perplexed.

"It means he didn't watch the show Seungkwan was on," S.Coups teased, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Wonwoo and Minghao were on it too," Mingyu pointed out.

"Even if you didn’t, you should know," Jeonghan said, still dwelling on Hoshi’s missed answer.

"All of us were there," Woozi added, his tone a mix of understanding and disbelief.

Luna, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, couldn’t hold back any longer. "No– ya! Hoshi knew him. He answered right, he just ran out of time 'cause PD Na doesn’t want us to eat," she scolded them, her tone both protective and teasing. Her defense of Hoshi made PD Na laugh, clearly amused by her assessment.

[Bunny no. 1 defending the tiger... hamster(?)]

"I know him…" Hoshi trailed off, his voice a mix of frustration and regret.

"But you couldn't recall it," Luna finished for him, nodding sympathetically. "It's alright."

"I understand," S.Coups said, his voice gentle as he tried to ease the tension in the room.

As they prepared to move on to the next round, the atmosphere in the room was a mix of anticipation and amusement. PD Na addressed the group with a hint of strategy, "If you're starting with S.Coups, you want to deal with the problem first and end it."

"It means we’ll get rid of the lemon," Seungkwan quipped, his comment making everyone burst into laughter.

"The lemon?" S.Coups stood up, chuckling in disbelief at Seungkwan's playful jab.

"Don't be like that," Dino said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Just admit it," Seungkwan teased further, causing S.Coups to laugh even more, shaking his head.

[Our success is what matters]

"Let’s start. S.Coups will go first," PD Na announced, setting the stage for the next challenge.

"Give me an easy one, please," S.Coups leaned forward, his voice a mix of pleading and nervousness.

PD Na, with a grin, added, "I think he should go talk to Jeonghan," suggesting that S.Coups might need some counsel from Jeonghan, which made the two laugh in agreement.

[The counseling office is always open]

"Chill out," Jeonghan told S.Coups with a calm, reassuring tone.

Mingyu jumped in, trying to help with his own method of deduction. "You know them. Like Seungkwan, Jeonghan, Jiyeon," he pointed out, using the members as examples to help S.Coups focus.

"The Kim Mingyu Method," Luna said, naming Mingyu’s approach with a grin.

"That worked really well," Seungkwan and Woozi agreed, finding humor in the method.

"Who's this? Jeonghan. Jiyeon, Wonwoo… Dokyeom. That's what you do," Mingyu continued, trying to show how easy it could be if S.Coups just followed his lead.

"You got Dokyeom confused," Wonwoo chuckled, pointing out Mingyu's mistake, which made Mingyu giggle in response.

"Are you ready?" PD Na asked, bringing the attention back to S.Coups.

[With ease]

[Round 9]

A chorus of encouragements erupted from the members.

"Relax."

"Chill out."

"It's easy."

"You can do it."

"Here we go," PD Na said, building up the suspense as he showed S.Coups the picture and began counting down, "1, 2, 3."

S.Coups stared at the picture, his expression a mix of disbelief and resignation. "Who’s that?" he asked, chuckling as if he had already given up.

"Wrong!" PD Na declared.

All eyes were on S.Coups, who stood in shock, staring at the picture in disbelief. He had been given another easy question, yet once again, he found himself unable to answer it. Instead of groans, the room was filled with silent, stunned expressions as they tried to process what had just happened.

[Shocking]

Mingyu couldn't stay seated any longer. He shot up from his chair, making an exaggerated hand movement as he exclaimed, "Ya! I can even see it from walking past."

"Kim Woo Bin," Jun stated, turning to S.Coups with a mix of surprise and concern.

"Kim Woo Bin," Dokyeom echoed, shaking his head accompanied by a pained chuckle.

"You need to stop drinking," Seungkwan deadpanned, his sharp comment causing both PD Na and S.Coups to burst into laughter.

Luna, who had been observing quietly with her arms crossed, finally spoke up, her tone playful yet stern. "I don’t think we are playing the character quiz…" Her statement made the members turn to her with amused yet confused expressions.

[What?]

"He's the mafia," Luna continued, pointing at S.Coups with a chuckle, a reference to their iconic Mafia game from the 'Don't Lie' segments in ‘Going Seventeen’.

The realization hit the members all at once, and they erupted into hysterical laughter. The idea that S.Coups, their leader, was somehow sabotaging their game was too funny not to embrace.

As the laughter continued to fill the room, Mingyu was clearly the most amused by Luna’s joke. He laughed with his whole body, doubling over as he let out deep, hearty laughs. Unable to contain his amusement, Mingyu got up from his seat, making his way over to Luna. With his hands raised high, he eagerly sought a high five, which Luna gladly returned, their hands clapping together in triumph.

But Mingyu’s laughter didn’t stop there. As he collapsed in hysterics, he fell forward, his head landing on Luna’s lap before he slid down to the floor in front of her, still laughing uncontrollably.

[Mingyu finds it the funniest...]

[Watch ‘Going Seventeen’ to understand why]

Hoshi stood up dramatically, covering his mouth with his hand as he stared at S.Coups with wide eyes, adding to the hilarity. "S.Coups is the mafia!" he declared, his voice filled with mock horror.

The laughter grew louder as the members joined in the joke, shouting in unison, "Let’s kill him! Let’s kill him!" They mimicked the thumbs-down movement they used in the 'Don't Lie' game, fully embracing the absurdity of the situation.

[Let's remove a dish]

As the laughter finally began to subside, the members of SEVENTEEN shifted their focus back to the game, this time discussing which dish to remove from the table. Joshua, ever practical, suggested, "There are two kinds of meat. How about we remove the spicy stir-fried pork?"

Seungkwan, still in a playful mood, stood up and hovered his hand over the LA galbi. "Would you warm it up again? LA galbi is expensive," he reasoned, addressing the crew with a serious expression, his voice tinged with concern.

[Spicy stir-fried pork versus LA galbi]

Jeonghan, always looking out for the younger members, suggested, "Then remove the acorn jelly. Dino hates it."

Luna, nodding in agreement, added, "Dino hates it."

Vernon, weighing in on the discussion, said, "Right. Let's remove the spicy stir-fried pork."

But Luna, without realizing it, pouted slightly as she responded, "No, why the spicy stir-fried pork?"

Joshua chimed in, "There are two kinds of meat anyway."

Determined to protect the dish, Mingyu said, "Remove the acorn jelly."

Seungkwan, still standing at the table, his hands hovering indecisively between the two dishes, almost whined, "Between acorn jelly and spicy stir-fried pork, what's it going to be?"

"Acorn jelly," Jeonghan said firmly. "The youngest doesn't like acorn jelly."

[Strong reason]

"Really? You don't? Then let's remove acorn jelly," Vernon agreed, sealing the fate of the dish. With that, the acorn jelly was finally removed.

[Acorn jelly is out] [3 dishes left]

As the group settled back into their places, Jeonghan, ever the contrarian, remarked, "Isn't spicy stir-fried pork better than LA galbi?"

Joshua, eyebrows raised in disbelief, questioned, "Really?"

Wonwoo, always practical, chimed in, "Apparently, LA galbi is expensive."

Seungkwan, ready to move forward, returned to his seat and said, "We still have two kinds of meat left. Let's play first."

Mingyu chuckled, adding, "They'll be gone in no time," referring to how quickly the dishes would vanish even before they would start eating.

[Gone in no time]

Before the next round began, some of the members shuffled their seats again, trying to find their optimal positions. Luna ended up seated between Jeonghan and Seungkwan on the right side of the line. Jeonghan then asked, "So? Do we start from here? Or there?"

Mingyu, with a grin, suggested, "I think S.Coups should go last. All thirteen people get to experience it, and S.Coups will end it by dying," which made Luna burst into laughter.

Woozi, catching on to the plan, swapped seats with S.Coups, who begrudgingly accepted his fate and moved to the end of the line. "Shall we?" Woozi asked, settling into S.Coups’ former spot.

[They quietly send S.Coups to the end]

"We'll start from here again," Seungkwan decided, pointing to the other end of the line where the round would begin.

As Woozi took S.Coups' seat, he noticed a yogurt from the container sitting there, looking confused. "Hey…" he said, holding up the yogurt, which made both Jeonghan and Luna glance over with mild curiosity.

Seungkwan, immediately recognizing the yogurt, reached for it and said, "Give it to me." It had been his seat before, and he'd sneakily taken the yogurt and hidden it for himself.

[It was Seungkwan's seat]

Jeonghan and Luna remained unfazed, though clearly amused as they watched the scene unfold. Woozi handed the yogurt over to Seungkwan, asking, "Why are you keeping yogurt?"

[He saved yogurt for later]

Luna, with a smirk, decided to help Seungkwan out, "It fell earlier."

Jeonghan, always quick to join in, added, "It was on the floor."

Seungkwan, stumbling over his words, tried to justify himself, "It said it's got patented probiotics."

Wonwoo, ever observant, asked, "When did you take it?"

Minghao, shaking his head with a sigh, joined in with a half-serious, half-playful tone, "Be honest."

The entire group burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, Seungkwan finally admitting, "Sorry," as he sheepishly held onto the yogurt.

[We pursue earnest and bright society]

As they braced for the next round the atmosphere in the room was a mixture of anticipation and tension. PD Na announced, "Here we go. Dino is going first," signaling the start of what everyone hoped would be a successful round.

Wonwoo, still pacing behind his seat, muttered, "I should practice," he said as he tried to prepare himself mentally.

[Round 10]

The screen flickered as PD Na displayed the picture for Dino. "1, 2, 3…" he counted down, giving Dino his cue. Dino pointed at the picture, but to everyone’s surprise, no words came out of his mouth. His mind seemed to have drawn a blank at the crucial moment.

[Say something]

"Wrong!" PD Na exclaimed, breaking the silence with a mix of surprise and disappointment. The other members turned to Dino, their expressions ranging from disbelief to shock.

Vernon, unable to contain himself, shot up from his seat and pointed at the youngest member. "How can you miss this?" he asked incredulously, his voice rising.

"You always… you always copy him," Wonwoo chimed in, echoing Vernon’s disbelief.

"This is your special skill," Vernon added, still in shock, "You copy him all the time."

Dino covered his mouth with his hand, his face reflecting his own disbelief. "Why can't I remember all of a sudden?" he murmured, almost to himself, the realization of his mistake slowly sinking in.

PD Na turned to Hoshi, who was next in line, to see if he knew the answer. "Hoshi, who's this?"

"Song Kang Ho," Hoshi responded without missing a beat, his voice confident and sure.

"He's your special skill," Wonwoo repeated, emphasizing Dino's usual talent.

[There must be something about his special skill]

"You should show him," Hoshi suggested, gesturing towards PD Na with a smile.

Dino chuckled, shaking his head. "No," he said, reluctant to demonstrate his impression.

[What is it?]

"Show him," Mingyu encouraged, nodding his head with a grin.

"Which one?" Dino asked as he slowly made his way to the center of the room, the focus of everyone's attention now squarely on him.

"The one that gets censored," Wonwoo said with a playful smirk, recalling a particularly notorious impression that is not suitable for TV.

"He'll censor it," Mingyu reassured Dino, trying to coax him into performing.

"What is it?" PD Na chuckled, his curiosity piqued by the group's reaction. "What is it? You made me so curious."

"It might not be suitable for the show," Seungkwan interjected, standing up to explain on Dino's behalf.

"If it can't be aired, we'll edit it out and give you one more chance," PD Na explained, his tone both understanding and encouraging. The members, realizing they might get another shot at saving the round, began to cheer and clap, urging Dino to go for it.

[We'll give Dino one more chance]

"You have to do it," they chanted, their enthusiasm infectious.

"The viewers won't know what it is, but they'll assume it was funny," PD Na added with a chuckle, trying to put Dino at ease as he stood there, torn between hesitation and the desire to redeem himself.

Dino hesitated for a moment, then decided to explain his upcoming performance. "In 'The Host'…" he began, using his hands to gesture as he spoke.

"Song Kang Ho?" PD Na interjected, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," the members responded in unison, nodding.

Dino continued, "He has to go save his daughter, but he gets caught in the hospital. They start injecting things into his brain for a biopsy. I'll reenact that emergency situation." He mimicked the injection process with his hand gestures, painting a vivid picture of the scene he was about to recreate.

"He impersonates the actor but doesn’t know the name," PD Na commented, shaking his head in amusement.

Seungkwan immediately jumped to his feet, standing beside Dino as he pretended to inject something into his head. Vernon followed suit, joining in as they began the impromptu performance.

Dino, fully in character now, exclaimed, "Ya. I have to go save my daughter."

"Lie down," Seungkwan commanded, keeping up the act.

"Help me," Dino pleaded, still in character.

"Lie down," Seungkwan repeated, his tone authoritative as they continued the reenactment.

"Okay, okay," Dino relented, pretending to struggle as he was held down by his fellow members.

"Lie down!" Seungkwan shouted, raising his voice to add intensity to the scene.

Luna, sitting in her seat, couldn’t help but giggle and cringe simultaneously, her arms hugging Jeonghan's as they watched Dino's committed performance.

Dino, fully immersed in his role, suddenly blurted out, "Ya! You bastard! You son of a bitch!"

The room erupted in laughter. PD Na, the crew, and the rest of the members couldn’t contain themselves, cracking up at Dino's cursing and his spot-on impression.

"I have to save my daughter," Dino concluded dramatically, ending the performance.

[Done]

"That was so good," Dokyeom chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief at Dino's dedication.

Vernon, overcome with laughter, collapsed onto the floor, his distinct laugh echoing through the room.

[Laughing]

Luna, still giggling, hid behind Jeonghan's arm, her laughter mixing with a hint of secondhand embarrassment from Dino's antics. She peeked out from behind him, still smiling. "He's really on another level."

"You don’t know Song Kang Ho, but you're impersonating him?" PD Na asked, still trying to wrap his head around the absurdity of the situation.

"Exactly," Dino replied, suddenly modest as if he hadn’t just been yelling obscenities. "So if you give me one more chance…"

"I will give you another chance," PD Na said, making the group erupt in cheers and applause, grateful for the opportunity.

[He got another chance]

[He earned his chance]

As Dino returned to his seat, Mingyu leaned over, chuckling, "You cleaned up your own mess."

[It's a precious second chance]

As the redo of the round was set to begin again, Dino nervously prepared himself.

"It'll be funny if he messes up again," Woozi giggled, glancing at Dino, who was now steeling himself for his second chance.

[RE: Round 10]

PD Na held up the picture for Dino and began the countdown, "1, 2, 3."

"Mimi," Dino blurted out confidently.

"You got it," PD Na confirmed, nodding his head.

"I got it!" Dino exclaimed, standing up, visibly shocked and immensely relieved that he had nailed it this time. The tension from earlier had melted away, replaced with triumphant disbelief.

Next up was Hoshi. He stood up, a mix of a sigh and a whine escaping him as he clutched his chest, clearly feeling the pressure.

[And]

[the hamster's having a heartache]

[Sigh]

"Hoshi, it's okay. You're okay," Luna said softly, her voice tinged with amusement as she watched him.

"Hoshi, doesn’t your heart ache?" S.Coups teased with a chuckle as if empathizing with the intensity of the situation.

"I think I’m going to go crazy," Hoshi admitted, making S.Coups laugh heartily.

[He understands how Hoshi feels]

"It’s okay," Jun reassured him, placing a comforting hand on Hoshi's arm as he tried to calm him down.

[Character Quiz can be harmful]

[Talk to Producer Na about side effects]

PD Na then presented the picture to Hoshi. Before he could even count down, Hoshi sprang to his feet and pointed at the image, shouting, "Jee Seok Jin!" His excitement was so overwhelming that he fell to his knees, overwhelmed with joy. The members erupted in cheers and applause, sharing in Hoshi’s elation.

"Seok Jin!" Hoshi repeated, pointing at the picture as if he couldn’t believe he had actually gotten it right. The sheer relief and excitement radiated from him, and the members continued clapping for him, their laughter filling the room.

"He’s my dad’s age," Hoshi said, still out of breath, eliciting even more laughter from the group.

[He was born in 1966]

"'He’s my dad’s age'," Luna repeated with a chuckle, nodding at Hoshi in understanding as she smiled at his endearing comment.

"Joshua’s turn," PD Na announced, signaling the start of the next round. He showed Joshua the picture and counted down, "1, 2, 3."

"Song Hye Kyo," Joshua answered, his voice steady yet his eyes wide.

[Song what Kyo?]

The members burst into applause and cheers, congratulating him for the correct answer.

"Didn’t you say 'Song Ye Kyo'?" PD Na asked, slightly puzzled, prompting a few members to stand up in defense of Joshua’s answer.

[He suddenly misses his hometown]

"Is 'H' silent?" PD Na inquired, trying to clarify.

"I heard it. I heard the 'H,'" Luna raised her hand, backing Joshua despite knowing it wasn’t quite accurate.

"You don’t say 'H' in Hermes," Mingyu argued, causing the room to erupt in a chorus of "Oohs" at his logic, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the lies being thrown around to save Joshua.

[That makes sense]

"He’s right! He’s right!" Luna clapped her hands in agreement, pointing at Mingyu, who playfully winked at her.

"Okay," PD Na said with a sigh, as he turned his attention to Jun and Minghao, who were next in line.

[He'll move on since he's persuaded]

"Oh my. It’s the big obstacle," he remarked, before showing Jun the picture and counting down, "Here we go… 1, 2, 3."

"Michael Jackson," Jun announced confidently, standing up and busting out an iconic Michael Jackson move, making the members cheer loudly in excitement.

[He's in Performance Team]

[Neat finish]

"You’re pretty good," Dokyeom complimented, and others chimed in, "Good job."

[One obstacle is gone]

PD Na then turned to Minghao, who was leaning forward in his seat, a hint of nervousness visible on his face.

[Another obstacle]

"Minghao, it’s okay. You can do it," Seungkwan encouraged, his voice soft.

PD Na showed Minghao the picture and counted down, "1, 2, 3…"

"Sorry," Minghao bowed apologetically, admitting that he didn’t know the person.

"It’s understandable," Mingyu chimed in sympathetically, his tone reassuring.

"It’s understandable," Jeonghan echoed, nodding along in agreement.

"It’s alright, Hao," Luna added, her voice gentle.

[New reaction]

PD Na looked taken aback by the unexpected support, clearly surprised by how forgiving the members were of Minghao’s mistake. As a foreign member, the group understood his struggle with some of the cultural references.

"I don’t know her," Minghao admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

[Jeon Do-yeon]

"It’s okay. He did that on purpose," Luna said, playfully pointing at PD Na, causing the members to chuckle.

"He gave you the question you can’t answer," Mingyu agreed, his tone light-hearted.

"He was trying to get him wrong," Jeonghan added as they nodded in agreement. "He wasn’t considerate enough."

"He just doesn’t want us to eat," S.Coups joked, eliciting more laughter.

"'I’ll make you fail,'" Jeonghan imitated, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

"Give me easy ones," Minghao said, his voice lightening as he joined in on the banter, making everyone laugh.

"Sorry," PD Na chuckled, amused by how the members had turned the situation into a light-hearted moment.

In the end, after much deliberation and laughter, the group reluctantly agreed to remove the spicy stir-fried pork from their menu, leaving them with two dishes, the kimchi, and the LA galbi.

[Spicy stir-fried pork is out]

[This is all they have left]

PD Na, sensing the pressure building among the members, decided to lighten the mood while also giving them a push. "If you get it now, it works for both of us. We've got enough airtime. If you lose any more food, CARAT will get mad at us. It's about time for you to pull it off," he encouraged his tone a blend of seriousness and playful urgency.

[Round 11]

"Come on. Let's go," Woozi said, clapping his hands together in anticipation.

"Let’s do this," Minghao added, steeling himself for the challenge ahead.

The tension in the room was palpable as the game moved into the next round. The members were all on edge, knowing that every wrong answer could cost them another dish. Despite their efforts, the round came to a halt when Jun, staring blankly at the photo, couldn't identify Robert Downey Jr. The members sighed as they watched the LA galbi slip away from their grasp, leaving only the kimchi behind.

[END GAME]

[LA galbi is out] [Only 1 dish left]

[In the end, it happened]

[Only kimchi left for the final round]

"We’re about to lose the kimchi," Woozi remarked, half-joking, half-serious as they prepared for the next round.

"We must succeed this time," Seungkwan said, determination clear in his voice.

"Yes," Dino echoed, the weight of the situation not lost on him.

"He’ll give us the easy ones now," Jeonghan observed, watching PD Na carefully as he chose the pictures for the next round.

Luna, who had been quietly observing the proceedings, now rested her head on Jeonghan’s shoulder, her eyes following PD Na and the writers as they discussed the next steps. Jeonghan, sensing an opportunity, leaned forward slightly and proposed an idea. "Can you mix the ones we already did before?" he suggested.

[He demands to repeat the questions]

"What?" one of the writers asked, clearly taken aback by the request, causing the group to burst into laughter.

"He’s serious," Luna explained to the writers and PD Na, patting Jeonghan’s knee affectionately, her head still nestled on his shoulder.

"That’s what he’s like," S.Coups pointed out, gesturing toward Jeonghan with a knowing smile.

"We only have kimchi left," Jeonghan reasoned, trying to make his case.

PD Na considered it for a moment before agreeing. "Sure. Let’s do that. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all," he said, nodding.

"Thank you!" Luna exclaimed, her gratitude evident as she smiled warmly at PD Na.

"We can’t get it wrong twice," S.Coups said, the seriousness of the situation hitting them all at once.

"It could be harder this way," Woozi mused, his brows furrowing slightly.

"It might be harder," Jun agreed, nodding in contemplation.

"Getting it wrong twice is twice as embarrassing," Luna chuckled, the absurdity of the situation bringing a lightness to her voice.

"If anyone messes it up, let’s compliment them," Jeonghan suggested, his tone playful as they all agreed.

[Let's compliment that person. No cursing]

"'You don’t even know this? Good job,'" Woozi demonstrated, his sarcastic delivery making everyone laugh.

"Very good," Joshua added, chuckling at the sarcasm.

"That’s more annoying," Jun pointed out, shaking his head.

"It might end here," Joshua said, gesturing to S.Coups, who was first in line.

"Then we should just compliment him," Jeonghan replied, his tone teasing.

[Just compliment him]

"Let’s compliment that person. No cursing," Dokyeom said, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

"Don’t curse," S.Coups warned him, his voice mock-serious.

"Okay, don’t worry," Dokyeom chuckled, waving off the concern.

"Let’s compliment big time. ‘We already saw this before, but you got it wrong again? You’re amazing,’" Woozi suggested, his tone dripping with exaggerated praise, causing Joshua to laugh out loud.

PD Na, now fully on board with the idea, laid out the plan. "Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll mix six random pictures from the previous questions. Even I don’t know what they are going to be."

[Even the production crew doesn't know the order]

"But you have to go very fast," PD Na explained, demonstrating how quickly he would count down.

[Demonstration]

"Okay. Let’s start," Jeonghan said, his voice steady as they braced themselves for the rapid-fire round ahead. The tension was thick, but so was the camaraderie, as they prepared to face the challenge with a mix of nerves and humor.

As the group prepared to dive into the rapid-fire round, some of the members took a moment to review their previous answers, just in case the same questions resurfaced. There was a mixture of nervous energy and determination in the room as everyone tried to remember the faces and names they'd already encountered.

[Going over the previous questions in a rush]

In the midst of all the preparation, Luna and Jeonghan remained side by side, their quiet confidence evident in how relaxed they were. Luna’s head was still resting comfortably on Jeonghan’s shoulder as she casually replied to a text from her mom on her phone. Jeonghan, noticing her focused expression, watched her fingers as they moved swiftly across the screen.

"Is that your mom?" Jeonghan asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the others.

"Mmm," Luna hummed in response, her attention still on her phone.

"Tell her I said hi," Jeonghan suggested, his tone warm and familiar.

Without missing a beat, Luna turned on the front camera of her phone and positioned it in front of them, capturing a photo of them smiling together. Neither of them moved an inch, maintaining their comfortable position as she quickly sent the picture to her mom.

Laughter and quiet conversations filled the room, but soon enough, PD Na's voice cut through the noise, drawing everyone's attention back to the task at hand.

"Is there anyone who got all the answers?" PD Na asked, his tone carrying a hint of playful challenge.

"I haven't gotten any wrong yet," Seungkwan quickly raised his hand, pride evident in his voice.

"I got all mine right too," Luna added, lifting her head from Jeonghan's shoulder to sit up properly. She gave a small, confident smile, glad to be able to say she hadn’t slipped up yet.

Jeonghan, noticing Luna's shift, also raised his hand with a casual, "Me too."

From behind his seat, where he'd been pacing, Wonwoo raised his hand as well, adding, "I don’t think I got anything wrong either," his calm demeanor hiding the subtle pride he felt.

Mingyu, ever competitive, raised his hand after Wonwoo, as if reluctant to be left out.

PD Na scanned the room, his eyes landing on those who hadn’t raised their hands. "Anyone who got everything wrong?" he asked, humor lacing his tone.

Only S.Coups sheepishly raised his hand, chuckling at his own misfortune. "I never got it for once," he admitted, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded.

[Park Bo Gum/Yoon/Kim Woo Bin]

PD Na pointed at S.Coups, his laughter infectious. "He got zero," he emphasized, causing the room to erupt in giggles.

"I didn’t think I’d be this terrible," S.Coups confessed, still smiling despite his poor track record.

"You’re terrible," Vernon teased, unable to resist ribbing his leader.

S.Coups shook his head, still in disbelief. "I was pretty good when I watched it on TV," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and frustration.

"Everything looks easy when you watch it on TV," Joshua pointed out, understanding where S.Coups was coming from.

"It looked really easy on TV," S.Coups repeated, the laughter in his voice signaling he had made peace with his less-than-stellar performance.

The room was buzzing with playful energy as PD Na's gaze swept across the members, his eyes finally landing on S.Coups. “Who should go first?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “S.Coups?”

S.Coups, with his hands clasped over his chest as if to steady his nerves, nodded with a resigned smile. “Yes,” he agreed, knowing he was about to face another round of teasing from his members if he still got it wrong.

“Do you know the worst-case scenario?” PD Na asked, his eyes narrowing with exaggerated concern. “The game ends with you hesitating."

[And the game ends there]

'No fun, no impression,” Woozi piling on the pressure with a grin.

“No style,” Mingyu chimed in from beside Woozi, unable to resist taking his own playful jab. His tone was light, but the teasing was relentless. Dokyeom couldn’t help but laugh at how perfectly they were roasting their leader.

“We should still compliment him,” Jeonghan suggested.

[Even if the worst possible thing happens, we'll still compliment you]

Woozi caught on immediately, nodding in agreement. “We’ll give you warm compliments,” he promised.

Vernon, ever the deadpan, delivered his line with perfect timing and zero emotion. “Well done,” he said flatly, making PD Na burst out laughing as he clapped in appreciation of the humor.

[That's a compliment]

Jeonghan raised his hands as if to assure everyone. “We’re not negative,” he insisted, though the grin on his face said otherwise.

Joshua, picking up on Vernon's tone, echoed with an equally flat “Well done,” his expression matching the dry delivery.

[Last round]

S.Coups knelt on the floor, his heart racing as the anticipation grew. The entire group was focused on him, holding their breath, hoping he would finally break his streak of incorrect answers.

PD Na, with a knowing smile, revealed the next picture and began his countdown. “1, 2, 3.”

“Uhm Jung Hwa,” S.Coups exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of determination and desperation.

For a moment, there was silence, then the room erupted in applause. S.Coups had finally gotten it right. He sat back down with a relieved smile, as the members clapped and cheered for him.

[He finally saved his face]

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, moving quickly to keep the momentum going. He turned to Joshua next, the picture already in hand.

Joshua, ever calm and collected, focused on the image as PD Na began to count. “1, 2, 3.”

“Suho,” Joshua answered without a moment's hesitation, earning another round of applause from the members.

“You got it,” PD Na acknowledged with a nod, wasting no time as he showed the next picture to Hoshi.

“1, 2, 3.”

“Lee Seok Hoon!” Hoshi shouted, jumping to his feet in excitement, his energy contagious as the room cheered again.

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, laughing at Hoshi’s enthusiasm.

“It’s Seok Hoon!” Hoshi repeated, still riding the high of getting it right.

Next up was Jeonghan, who, in his typical relaxed manner, remained seated as PD Na flashed the picture. “1, 2, 3.”

“Hani,” Jeonghan pointed out, his tone steady and sure.

“You got it,” PD Na responded, pleased with the quick succession of correct answers. He turned to Luna, who was next in line. Luna, who had been quietly observing, was now the center of attention.

PD Na showed her the picture and counted down, "1,2,3." And with a smoothness that only she could pull off, she responded.

“Harry Potter,” Luna said, her English accent and pronunciation so flawless that it left PD Na momentarily confused.

[What?]

“What?” PD Na asked, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what she had just said.

The members were quick to jump in, eager to explain. Joshua and Vernon, who understood her immediately, were the loudest.

“She’s right!” Joshua called out.

“She got it right!” Vernon added, both of them nodding earnestly.

[American line defending]

“What was that?” PD Na asked again, this time with a hint of curiosity, leaning in as if that would help him understand.

“Harry Potter,” Luna chuckled, her English accent still pronounced.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but grin as he added, “She’s English.”

“She’s from the United Kingdom,” Hoshi chimed in, nodding as if to emphasize the point.

“It's her accent,” Joshua pointed out, sharing in the playful banter.

Mingyu, always one for humor, threw in his own comment, “She said it the same way Harry Potter would have said it.”

This set the members off, as they began mimicking her accent, each one trying their best to sound as authentic as Luna had.

“Authentic. Authentic,” Seungkwan said, nodding appreciatively.

Luna, playing along with the joke, repeated her answer once more, this time with a deliberately exaggerated Korean accent, “Harry Potter.”

The room burst into laughter at her playful switch, the tension from the game momentarily forgotten in the shared humor.

“I understand,” PD Na finally said, smiling as he gave her the point. “You got it.”

"Seungkwan is next," PD Na announced, the anticipation building as he turned to the next member. He showed the picture and began counting down, "1, 2, 3."

"Song Kang Ho," Seungkwan answered with confidence, his eyes locked on the screen.

"You got it," PD Na confirmed, causing the room to erupt in applause.

“Okay,” Jeonghan exclaimed, his voice steady and calm, as the group continued their winning streak.

PD Na then turned his attention to Wonwoo, who had stopped pacing and now stood firmly behind his chair, ready to tackle his turn. As the picture was revealed, PD Na began the countdown, "1, 2, 3."

"Hyeri," Wonwoo replied calmly, his voice steady.

The members erupted into excited claps, thrilled by yet another correct answer.

"You got it," PD Na affirmed, pleased with their progress. "You're already halfway."

[It's the peak]

At this point, half of the members were now standing, their energy mixed with excitement and nerves getting to the,

"It's Vernon's turn," PD Na announced, signaling to Vernon who looked intently at him.

PD Na revealed the picture and counted down, "1, 2, 3…"

But nothing came out of Vernon's mouth. The seconds ticked by in silence, and the tension in the room grew palpable.

[Spacing out]

[Blinking]

“Wrong!” PD Na declared, the room filling with a momentary chorus of groans.

However, true to their earlier promise, the members quickly transitioned to compliments, mimicking Vernon’s earlier deadpan tone.

“Well done,” they chorused, surrounding him and clapping enthusiastically.

“Good job.”

“Well done.”

“Good job.”

“You did great.”

[They're complimenting him]

They high-fived him and shook his hand, their smiles wide as they supported their teammate despite the sarcasm dripping in their voices.

[Everyone wants to shake his hand]

Luna, still seated, couldn’t help but laugh at the scene unfolding before her. The group’s playful nature always brought light to even the most competitive moments.

“So? Kimchi slap?” Minghao joked, holding up the container of kimchi, which caused PD Na and the writers to burst into laughter. Minghao then walked off to remove the kimchi from the table, still grinning.

[Kimchi is leaving]

“Good job. Well done,” Jeonghan clapped, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

[When we're having a hard time, we compliment]

Suddenly, Vernon casually picked up the yogurt Seungkwan had been hiding earlier and began drinking it, catching everyone off guard.

[I drink yogurt when I'm sad]

“When did you take it?” PD Na asked, his tone filled with curiosity, while Seungkwan looked at Vernon, eyes wide with shock and a touch of betrayal, considering he had been the one to smuggle the yogurt earlier.

“I brought it from home,” Vernon said casually, clearly lying but with such a straight face that it only added to the hilarity of the situation.

“It was fun. Good job,” Minghao said, clapping for their efforts as they all returned to their seats.

[But the table is empty]

Back in their seats, the group settled down, the atmosphere still buzzing with excitement. Mingyu, ever the instigator, leaned forward and asked, “Any bonus round?”

Jeonghan, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, gestured toward the rice and soup they were supposed to receive for free. “With everything one more time,” he suggested, the familiar spark of a bet flickering across his face.

[Shameless]

Luna simply grinned at this, already accustomed to Jeonghan’s penchant for bets, while PD Na and the writers exchanged shocked glances.

“What?” one of the writers said in a high-pitched tone, their disbelief evident, which only served to amplify the laughter in the room, with Dokyeom laughing the loudest.

[Is he here to bargain with Dormammu?]

“'What?'” Luna mimicked the writer’s tone, followed quickly by Joshua, who couldn’t resist joining in on the fun. “'What?'”

“The final round with all food,” Jeonghan said, his lazy smirk still plastered on his face but with a seriousness that made it clear he wasn’t joking. “We won’t have rice.”

“We’ll bet rice and soup,” S.Coups chimed in, adding to the stakes.

“You’ll starve?” PD Na asked, his tone a mix of concern and amusement.

“Yes,” Jeonghan replied, his smirk never wavering.

“We can’t let them starve,” PD Na said to the writers, trying to gauge how serious the members were.

“It’s okay,” Hoshi interjected.

“We don’t mind. We skip meals often.” Jeonghan said.

“Hunger got us this far,” Seungkwan added with a solemn nod, making Luna nod in agreement as well.

“We’re betting rice and soup too,” Hoshi declared, his tone final.

“We’re putting everything on the line.” S.Coups gestured to the rice and soup.

“You should too,” Luna joined in, her voice filled with playful defiance.

“We’re betting our all,” Jeonghan reiterated. “You should bet your all too.”

S.Coups nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on PD Na.

“Yung Suk,” Seungkwan called out, using PD Na’s first name with an exaggerated sigh to convince him, causing PD Na to laugh despite himself.

“All versus all,” Vernon clapped, fueling the enthusiasm of the group.

“But there’s a big gap between the two,” Dokyeom chuckled, acknowledging the absurdity of the bet.

“I’ll bet soup, rice, and S.Coups,” Mingyu listed with a grin, knowing the stakes were now absurdly high.

[We're good]

“Okay. Let’s go,” PD Na finally agreed, which prompted the group to erupt into claps and excited exclamations.

[All versus all]

“From this moment on, I’ll be CARAT’s enemy. I’m going to make you starve,” PD Na said, his tone mock-serious.

[That's Producer Na's opinion]

“I’m afraid CARAT will be like, ‘We’re sorry,’” Seungkwan joked, causing another round of laughter.

“But we have a chance. We got this,” Hoshi said, wrapping his arms around Luna and Seungkwan, who had moved seats earlier and was now next to Luna.

“We got this,” Jeonghan agreed, his confidence unwavering.

“I can feel it,” Hoshi added, his tone optimistic.

“We always succeeded in the end,” S.Coups said, his voice filled with determination.

[Subtitle to retrieve our reputation]

[The leader stands out in crisis]

“We always succeeded in the end,” Luna repeated, nodding in agreement.

“Are we going to compliment again even if someone messes it up?” Mingyu asked, looking around the group.

“Are we going to compliment again?” Dokyeom echoed, his curiosity piqued.

“We should,” Jeonghan nodded, as if setting the rule.

“Do you want to curse this time?” Dokyeom asked, half-serious.

“Curse?” Jeonghan laughed, the idea amusing him.

“Someone might curse,” Luna chuckled, imagining the scenario.

“Let’s compliment,” Dokyeom decided, his tone firm.

“Yes, we should compliment,” Hoshi agreed, his voice supportive.

“We’re a positive band,” Jeonghan declared, the sentiment echoed by the others.

As the banter continued, Joshua, who had been relatively quiet, suddenly spoke up from his spot next to Jeonghan. “I’m getting nervous,” he admitted, his voice tinged with anticipation.

Jeonghan, always the attentive one, reached into his pocket and pulled out the candy he had received earlier. Without missing a beat, he handed it to Joshua. “When you’re nervous, have something sweet.”

[The chocolate he got earlier]

Joshua smiled, taking the candy gratefully before eating it.

[Recharging thanks to his friend]

Meanwhile, Jeonghan fished out the last candy from his pocket, catching Luna’s attention. Their eyes met, and without a word, Jeonghan unwrapped the candy and held it up to her mouth.

[The twin bunnies share]

Luna stared at it for a few seconds, her gaze locked on Jeonghan’s as she contemplated his gesture. Then, with a small smile, she leaned in and bit the candy in half, the sound crisp as she did so. She nodded her head towards Jeonghan, signaling for him to have the other half, knowing he had planned to eat it before offering it to her.

“Thank you,” Luna said softly, her voice filled with a warmth that made Jeonghan hum in acknowledgment before popping the other half into his mouth.

The SEVENTEEN members continued to watch with focused anticipation as PD Na and the writers huddled together, deliberating over which pictures to use for the final bonus round.

[Selecting questions]

Mingyu, always the one to lighten the mood, leaned in and told the group, “Watch Producer Na’s glasses carefully. You might see the reflection.”

The suggestion was so absurd that it drew immediate laughter from everyone. Jeonghan, chuckling, turned to Mingyu. “On his glasses?”

S.Coups, unable to contain his amusement, shook his head. “Are you a gambler or what?”

Before the teasing could continue, PD Na’s voice cut through the laughter. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, we’re ready,” Jeonghan responded confidently, his tone steady.

“We’re going all in,” Hoshi added, his voice filled with determination.

PD Na hesitated for a moment, the concern evident in his tone. “I’d feel so bad if you don’t eat anything…”

But the group was resolute. “We’ll be fine,” Luna said, nodding in agreement.

“It’s okay,” Dokyeom echoed, his usual cheerfulness still intact.

“It’s fine,” Jun added with a reassuring smile.

One of the writers, catching PD Na’s conflicted expression, spoke up, “You decided to be the enemy.”

“CARAT’s enemy,” Dokyeom repeated with a dramatic flair, eliciting more laughter from the group.

“Right. I decided to be CARAT’s enemy,” PD Na sighed, but the laughter that followed showed that no one was taking it too seriously.

Seungkwan, ever the spokesperson, chimed in with a grin, “We’re grateful for this chance.”

PD Na, playing along with the joke, nodded solemnly. “You should remind them later.”

“I’ll record that separately later,” Seungkwan joked, his quick wit earning more chuckles.

[The real last round]

“Do I go first? I’ll go first,” Mingyu volunteered, his competitive nature shining through.

[Mingyu will go first for a safe start]

As the others agreed, Mingyu couldn’t resist adding with confidence, “You can start with a hard one.”

[He stays laid back]

"Here we go," PD Na announced, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and seriousness as he showed the picture to Mingyu. The entire room held its breath as PD Na began the countdown, "1, 2, 3."

"Umji," Mingyu answered without missing a beat.

"You got it," PD Na confirmed, and a wave of relieved cheers and claps echoed around the room.

"Good job," Luna’s voice called out from the other side of the line, her tone warm and supportive.

Next in line was Woozi, who, in his quiet determination, murmured to himself, "I know them all."

PD Na held up the next picture and started counting down once more, "1, 2, 3."

"Joo Hyun Young," Woozi answered, his voice calm and confident.

"You got it," PD Na said again, validating Woozi’s answer. The room buzzed with excitement, the members feeding off the positive momentum they had built.

Jeonghan, who had been pacing behind the seats with Wonwoo, paused, watching Dokyeom who was next in line. "We’re on a roll now. We got this," Mingyu encouraged, the energy high.

"Dokyeom, don't be nervous. Chill out," Seungkwan added, his tone soothing.

[His record today: He got Calm Down Man. He also got a warning]

The pressure was on as PD Na presented the next picture and began the countdown, "1, 2, 3."

"Sunshine," Dokyeom blurted out, his voice confident at first, but as he tilted his head in realization, he knew he had missed the mark.

"Wrong!" PD Na announced, and the room erupted into laughter.

[Shining wrong answer]

Mingyu, in a dramatic display of defeat, collapsed onto the ground.

[He feels like his shoulder shrank by 1cm]

The members' laughter was infectious, with Joshua and S.Coups chiming in, "Sun," trying to correct Dokyeom's slip-up.

"Ahh, Sun," Dokyeom whined, sinking to the floor in mock despair.

[Oh, Sun]

"You met her just the other day," Seungkwan pointed out, half-laughing, half-scolding.

[They met for 'Amazing Saturday' 2 days ago]

"You met her on the show the other day," S.Coups added, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Sunshine," Luna giggled as she stood up, joining the group that was now surrounding the fallen Dokyeom.

The laughter continued as Dino slowly approached Dokyeom, ready to deliver a playful jab. Recalling his own earlier impression but with a twist, he leaned in and said with exaggerated seriousness, "Ya!… you bastard. Why would you get it wrong, you son of a bitch?"

[It's a compliment]

[SEVENTEEN is a very positive band]

[The youngest spoke up for everyone]

The room exploded with laughter, Dokyeom laughing the hardest as he clung to Dino’s legs in mock desperation.

[DK is happy]

Even PD Na, the writers, and the crew couldn’t hold back their laughter, the atmosphere light and joyful despite the mistake.

[Final result] [They lost everything]

As the laughter finally began to die down, PD Na clapped his hands together and said, "It's over."

The declaration made the members stand from their seats, with no complaints, just a collective acceptance.

"Let's go," they said, their voices in sync as they began to move.

[Getting ready to leave]

"We should be cool about it," Hoshi said, earning nods of agreement from the others.

"We shouldn't beg," Jeonghan added, his voice firm but lighthearted.

"Okay. Well done," PD Na said, acknowledging their efforts. The members bowed in thanks, their gratitude genuine despite the outcome.

[SEVENTEEN will look for their next chance]

With that, they headed back out to the green room, the playful energy from before lingering as they prepared for the next segment.

[Break]

The members of SEVENTEEN moved out toward the green room, their steps light and laughter filling the air. Jeonghan and Luna walked hand in hand, Luna's steps playful as she skipped along. The warmth between them was palpable, a quiet connection that spoke volumes amidst the group's playful banter.

"It's fun to be with everyone," Dino said, his gaze wandering to the basketball court set up nearby, a hint of excitement in his voice.

"I can't believe we got to do this," Dokyeom added, the wonder still fresh in his tone.

"Seungkwan is on a roll today," Vernon remarked, a grin spreading across his face.

"I know, he was hilarious," Mingyu chimed in, clearly enjoying the memory of Seungkwan's antics.

As they neared the green room, the conversation shifted to the perfect weather that had accompanied their day. "It's such nice weather," S.Coups noted, his eyes scanning the clear sky.

"It's so nice. There's a cool breeze," Wonwoo agreed, his voice soft as he soaked in the moment.

"I love the sunshine," Luna added, her head tilted up towards the sun, her eyes closing in contentment. The unintentional nod to Dokyeom's earlier mistake made everyone burst out laughing.

"Sunshine," Dokyeom laughed, throwing his arm around Luna in a hug. "The sunshine is just so warm."

As they reached the green room, the reality of their earlier bet sank in. "Do we really get no food?" Dokyeom asked his tone a mix of disbelief and hope.

"Of course," Mingyu answered with a grin, his voice playful yet firm as they finally stepped outside the green room.

[They're moving to the green room as they talk about the Character Quiz]

The members naturally settled into their own activities, some remained inside the green room, while others wandered outside, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere.

Jeonghan and Luna found themselves lingering by the doorway, sharing a quiet moment. With the door slightly ajar, the sunlight filtered through, casting a soft glow on their faces. Jeonghan leaned casually against the doorframe, his posture relaxed, while Luna stood nearby, her fingers lightly grazing the frame as if tracing invisible patterns. Their eyes were on each other as they quietly conversed. The air around them seemed to hum with unspoken words, a tension both innocent and charged, lingering in the subtle distance between them.

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the staff, who were lighting up the candles on a cake. The realization quickly spread as they understood who the cake was for.

[They see a staff lighting candles on a cake despite the strong wind]

[Jeonghan] [Not the birthday boy] [Born on October 4]

[Luna] [Not the birthday girl] [Born on January 30]

"Mingyu," one of the staff called out.

Mingyu turned around, his eyes lighting up as he spotted the cake. His birthday had been three days ago, but the gesture touched him deeply.

[Mingyu] [The birthday boy] [Born on April 6]

[A small birthday party for Mingyu whose birthday was 3 days before the shoot]

"Thank you," he marveled, taking the cake into his hands, his voice full of gratitude.

"Thank you," Seungkwan echoed, as the rest of the members began to gather around the cake, their excitement palpable.

[We couldn't give you any food, but we'll still celebrate your birthday]

"Yay," Mingyu said with a wide grin, genuinely touched by the surprise.

"What a nice show," Seungkwan remarked, appreciating the gesture.

"That looks really good," Vernon added, joining the others.

Mingyu then approached the nearest camera, holding up the cake with pride.

[Let's get the close-up first]

"Wow. Let's eat," Mingyu announced, placing the cake on the ledge in front of the green room, the members eagerly crowding around.

"Mingyu, did they put anything inside?" Dokyeom joked, his tone light and teasing.

"No one is reliable," S.Coups chimed in, playing along with the joke.

"Wow, it looks good," Luna said, moving closer to them, her eyes fixed on the cake.

"Let's try the chocolate cake," Jeonghan suggested, reaching for chopsticks as they began to dig in, the atmosphere filled with chatter and chewing.

"It's really sweet. I love it," Mingyu said after his first bite, his face lighting up with satisfaction.

Luna took her own bite, her eyes widening in delight as she did a little happy dance. "It's amazing," she exclaimed, her voice full of genuine pleasure.

"Wow," Jeonghan echoed, savoring the sweetness as he took his own bite.

"Really? That good?" Wonwoo asked as he arrived, curious about the reactions.

"It's so good," Mingyu assured him, already reaching for another piece.

"Jeonghan, do you eat cakes?" Dokyeom asked with a playful grin.

Luna, without missing a beat, offered a piece to Wonwoo, who gladly accepted it. "Try," she said with a smile as he took a bite.

"Are you eating it just because you need sugar?" Wonwoo teased Jeonghan, a knowing look in his eyes.

"That's exactly why," Luna nodded, her tone conspiratorial as she and Jeonghan exchanged a glance.

"Help yourselves," Seungkwan said, returning with more chopsticks to share among the group.

[Seungkwan is sweet enough to get them chopsticks]

[The cake turned into a meal in front of the green room]

"Happy birthday, Mingyu," Wonwoo added, his voice warm and sincere.

"This is so good," Vernon said, his approval echoed by the others as they continued to enjoy the cake, the sweetness of the moment shared among friends.

[Celebrating his birthday again with a delicious cake]

[They continued eating the cake]

[Have a proper meal next time]

[To be continued in Clip 2-1]

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello! May I request a reader x Keegan drabble where the reader is an artist in secret?

Sure, they roam the wake of no mans land in a ravaging war, but in the moments they are not on missions they capture the scenery around them. Wether it be on rooftops, surrounding woods or abandoned shelters, the reader revels in the few moments of silence they have before another bombardment of bloodshed is thrown their way to remember places or things around them before they eventually move again

How would Keegan react, let alone if he caught reader sketching him?

Thank you for your time, have a good day :D

—Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞

The camp is quiet, and you are tired. 

Looking out along the wreckage of this wasted world, there seems to be no end to the broken valleys or the craters of rock—this desolation remains as if an angry God had thrown a tantrum, and smashed the earth to bits. Trees grew sideways, wreckage that could be bits of houses or even remnants of bone breed in the little spaces under moss and bush; where the rest died, nature took back what was hers. Thus, the cycle continued.

What breathes, dies, and with that firm and undisputable reality, you find beauty in moments like these. 

You blink down at what still breathes of the patchwork lungs of No Man’s Land, pencil in your hand still for but a moment of red-eyed concentration. The deer was down in the dip below the Ghosts’ quiet camp for the steadily growing night—white where it should be a tawny-blonde shade. Barely breathing, you watch with half of its albino form sketched out in short bursts of graphite on your sun-bleached possession. 

A sketchbook, old, and worn to the very binding of its pages, and yet to you a more prized possession had never been held in your grip. 

So focused on the deer and its white shadow; its lithe body as it grazes along the forest floor amidst a soft rustling of leaves, you don’t notice the man behind you—a man supposed to be sleeping. 

It’s a minute of looking at your awe-filled face before Keegan clears his throat, speaking in a low grumble. “Not every day you see that, huh?”

You startle back so quickly that your pencil slips out of your hand, bouncing off your thighs before clattering to the flat rock that serves as your lookout platform. A clink of metal on stone is all it takes, the pencil falling down into the lower land and striking through greenery as you gasp and snap your eyes away. The flighty heart of the deer all at once sparked in a puff of air from its nostrils and a flair of a raised tail. 

It disappears into the bushes and its white flash is seen until the thick foliage swallows it again. You look back just in time to grace your eyes with one last glimpse. 

A deep disappointment blooms and you level out a sigh as Keegan clicks his tongue, guiltily rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Shit, Sweetheart,” he hums, “didn’t mean to…” Keegan tapers off with a low groan. “I’ll, uh, get you a new pencil when we’re back, yeah?” 

You stare at the forest a moment longer before huffing out and shifting—you turn and glance at the Sergeant before grumbling out, “You have a nasty habit of sneaking up on people, Russ. I don’t like it when it’s me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, his body still in gear and armed just like yours. Even sleeping, Ghosts bore the fangs of the living. Keegan’s face is down a mask, though, so you’re privy to see his built jaw and strong features in the moonlight. Black hair like a void. 

He sighs. 

“Again, didn’t mean to. Thought you knew I was there.” Your eyes roll, but a small smirk snaps your lip.

“Of course you did.” Huffing and shaking his head, the man comes to lean against your rock. 

“What ya workin’ on anyways? Seen you scribblin’ in that thing every chance you get. Got curious enough tonight to ask when I saw you up during Ajax’s watch.” He blinks at you, swirling with curiosity and dim intrigue. “You take over for him?”

You smile, shrugging. “Maybe.” Keegan stares and raises a dark brow as your form leans closer, presenting your object of patience and smudged graphite. “You gonna wake him up?”

The man takes the object and studies your half-finished work with an acute eye, taking in the lines and erased bits that indent the paper. He tilts his head at it and a moment later he grunts an answer, lost in thought. 

“Depends.” Blue meets your vision in a slow sweep. “You tired?”

Face burning, you clear your throat and begin to stutter a negative before the worst moment of your life takes place. 

Keegan grabs one page of your sketchbook and starts flipping. Heart lurching and eyes wrenching open to the size of dinner plates, your hand snatches at the old cover—but not before the damage is done.

The dead-gazed Sergeant locks onto a perfect image of his own sleeping body from hours earlier. Drawn face soft and calm in the gray of blended material that you’d had to use your finger to achieve, and limbs loose; he almost seemed to come off the page in an intensive display of detail. 

Keegan pauses and feels his jaw slightly slacken, eyes going that bit wider before his brows lift in shocked pleasure. Your hand latches onto the top of your book and rips it from the man’s grasp easily.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through people’s things?!” Your heart is racing, palms going clammy. At your chest, you hold your belonging with a tight scoff of embarrassment.

Keegan’s lids move up and down three times in quick succession before he replies. A tease is so deep in his words you cringe with a burning face.

“Anyone tell you it’s rude to watch people sleep, Sweetheart?” Glaring, you have to look away. 

It wasn’t exactly common knowledge to others that you liked the gruff man, but if anyone took one look into your sketchbook they’d know the truth. Pages were dedicated to finding the perfect slant of his eyes—that structure of his jaw and his broken-one-to-many-times nose. 

His lips and how his skin looked when he smirked. 

Shame tightens your face and you stare hard at the trees a few feet away; the sleeping forms of your comrades. Until a smooth chuckle leaves you breathless. 

A puff of air spreads over your cheek but you don’t dare turn your head. 

Keegan whispers to you slowly, that gravel in his tone and his lips brushing against your ear as he leans closer to you—arms crossed in front of him.

“If you wanted me to pose there, Doll, all you had to do was ask me. No use watchin’ from a distance…I’ll give you the full tour.” 

He walks off back to his mat of leaves and grass and you’re left gaping and choking on your own thoughts; honied vision dripping shock.

Keegan calls easily over his shoulder as if his comment hadn’t made your pulse pound, “I’m waking up Ajax—go back to bed. Scenery’ll be the same come morning.” 

You breathe in his sly quip, “trust me.”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[bichachonacho]

Retribution

pt.2 of ‘The Other Woman’

pt.3 here

warnings: angst and fluff (technically) & mentions of sex.

The fan art divider below is not my work. I found it on pinterest but Idk who the artist is. If someone knows can you please lmk so I can give them credit <3

a/n: also thank you so much for all the love for part one of this story <3! and I’m sorry to those who asked me to tag them with this post I was trying to but it wouldn’t let me for some reason :/

It had been weeks since that night, the same night Aemond confessed his feelings for his true love Alys in his drunken state. The same night you had cried yourself to sleep, wanting to be as far away from your husband whilst being trapped in his embrace. You woke the next morning with a new realisation— why should you bother trying to be an outstanding wife when you would never compare to her.

His beloved Alys.

Her name tastes like poison in your mouth, so distasteful you fear you’ll grow sick if it lingers at the forefront of your mind any longer. You feel guilty, it’s not her fault you’re trapped in a marriage with a man who’s madly in love with her.

You stop trying with Aemond. All the effort you put in to try and gain his approval, affection and love would inevitably go to waste— so why should you spend any more time worrying about Aemond and his needs. He didn’t need nor want you to be his wife, so you shouldn’t act the part.

You carry on with your day after your brief breakfast with Aemond in the dining room. You kept the conversation short, as you usually do now. You have little to say to him besides conversation about your shared duties to the throne and your family. You stopped trying to make small talk with him, your attempts before often irritated him. He wouldn’t hide the fact your consistent need for communication with him bothered him. Now you’re content with the shared silence between the two of you, grateful that you didn’t have to scramble to think of things to talk about.

You allow the handmaidens to ready your bath as you contemplate what outfit to wear for your day out of Kings landing. You ignore the way Aemond’s eye is trained on you intently, silently observing the way you think over what dress to wear between the two options.

“If those do not please you, I’ll buy you finer dresses, dear wife” Aemond breaks the silence, causing you to scoff at his attempt of being a considerate husband. This was one of the only times he had referred to you as his wife, weeks ago you would’ve been praising your gods in thanks— now the title barely phases you.

“Now why would you do that” You huff, deciding on the dress that was a deep shade of blue. You brush past him, hinting for him to leave the room when you bathe. He hums before pushing off of his seat and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him as you begin to undress.

“Are you planning on telling Prince Aemond where you are headed?” Your handmaiden Meredith questions you as she brushes your long silver hair. You pretend to lull the thought over before you say no.

“He doesn’t need to know. My absence won’t phase him” You hum, causing Meredith to tut as she braids some of your fine hair. You shut your eyes momentarily, preparing to receive an earful from the older woman who was like your mother figure in Rhaenyra’s absence.

“I would question that, Princess. Prince Aemond had spent half the day searching for you when you had left to roam the streets two days ago” She informs you, causing you to hum in thought as you processed what she had just told you. It seemed absurd that Aemond would notice you leaving for a few hours, you could disappear for weeks and he wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

“I trust you won’t tell him if he searches for me” You hum, confiding in her trust. You already knew the answer, Meredith would defend you with her last breath if it came down to it. She presses a soft kiss into your hair before standing up and stretching her limbs.

“Be mindful there is a family dinner tonight. You cannot be late” Meredith informs you and you wave her off, promising you wouldn’t be tardy before you push off of the hard floor and prepare to leave your bedchamber.

You had forgotten your promise the moment you stepped foot on Dragonstone. It had slipped your mind completely as you spent the day with your younger siblings— your mother distracting you in the evening by telling you stories by the fireplace. Your hand was steadily caressing her heavily swollen stomach as you listen to her tale, hoping your sibling inside of her womb was also listening. It was so entertaining you had forgotten of your curfew.

You leave Dragonstone hastily on Dragonback, cursing as you chastise yourself for forgetting such a thing. Meredith would definitely give you an earful later for this, but that was the least of your concerns as you take quick strides down the halls of the Red Keep. Out of breath and hair messy from the ride back, you quickly try to make yourself more presentable before you enter the dining room— the guard posted outside the door giving you a look before you enter.

“I apologise for my tardiness, your grace” You announce as you greet Alicent who gives you a tight lipped smile from her side of the table. She silently disapproved of your lack of consideration for time but said nothing— allowing you to take a seat beside Aemond.

You ignore his stare, keeping your gaze focused on the plate infront of you as you cut into your steak, hoping he would lose interest of your face and stop staring so intensely.

“Where have you been?” Aemond confronts you, finally breaking the deafening silence that could be cut with a knife.

“I went for a ride. Needed some fresh air” You glance at him as you answer, catching the dissatisfied look on his face at your alibi.

“Be honest with me” He presses you again, his voice slightly louder and catching the attention of the others sitting around the table. They pretend to carry on with their idle chatter, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation. You stay silent, ignoring his statement and hoping he would lose interest and stop talking to you.

“Your husband demands you to answer him” He growls, his tone revealing his frustration at your silence.

“Or what? You’ll sever my tongue?” You argue as you drop your cutlery, accentuating your anger as you repeat the words he spoke to you at this same table weeks ago. Everyone around the table goes silent at your sudden outburst, Aegon barely biting back a laugh whilst Helaena gazes at you with sympathy in her eyes. Alicent as you expected still wore a scowl on her face, unimpressed by both you and Aemond’s antics.

“I apologise for my outburst” You announce to everyone at the table before you continue to quietly eat, shifting further away from Aemond in your seat as you internally wish you were riding back to Dragonstone.

“I visited my family. That’s where I was today” You sigh heavily as you both enter your shared bedchamber after the dinner had concluded. Aemond gives you a look of understanding before you brush past him and begin to undress.

He lingers around the small bookshelf you insisted to be made months ago, finger trailing along the covers until he pulls out the novel containing children’s tales.

“You no longer read to me. I wish for you to read again” Aemond’s voice is just above a whisper, barely audible with the only sounds being your fabric loosening and the crackles from the fire.

Every second night after you wed, you made it a nightly ritual to read out loud your favourite stories from your childhood. Hoping it would help you bond with Aemond, it in fact did the opposite and made him leave the room most times— claiming he’d rather listen to Aegon fucking some whore than you reading to him.

“Today has exhausted me. Feel free to read on your own accord” You hum, dismissing his request as you stifle a yawn— pulling back your sheets to lay on your side of the bed. Aemond sighs heavily before he retires to the seat infront of the fireplace, reading quietly to himself. You had already shut your eyes and lulled yourself to sleep, so you missed the way he kept glancing over at your sleeping form.

Aemond feels a slight tightness in his chest as he reflects on how distant you’ve been with him for the last few weeks. He noticed it the first morning you stopped asking him a million questions at the breakfast table. Your odd behaviour that morning only being the start to you growing further apart from him. You stopped trying to drag him to the garden to simply walk with you, you no longer played with his hair or tried to jest with him. You didn’t ask him how his day was at the end of the night as you both lay down for bed, you would just silently turn over and sleep.

He’s hurt you, more times than he could count on all ten of his fingers. He treated you so bitterly because he blamed you for losing his sweet Alys to this betrothal. Now that he’s losing you too, he doesn’t know how to stop this marriage from falling apart.

The next morning, you ready your proposal to Aemond— one that you’ve been dwelling on for the last few weeks. You weren’t sure of how he’d react, probably ecstatic over your suggestion if you were to be honest. You know Alicent won’t be satisfied if she were to find out, so you intend to keep it a secret.

“We will reside in separate bedchambers. I’ve already asked Meredith to arrange Jace’s old bedroom down the hall for me. I’ll be moving my belongings there tonight” You announce to Aemond once you are both sat together during breakfast. He pauses at the news, confusion gracing his features as he stares at you.

“We’re married, why should you feel the need to sleep away from me?” His chest tightens again as he speaks.

“We’re practically worlds away when we share one bed, what difference would it make being in separate rooms” You say nonchalantly, sipping on your lukewarm tea as your eyes leave his. He doesn’t voice his disagreement with your suggestion, just silently nodding before he continues to eat.

When night comes, both you and Aemond make your way to your bedchambers after spending an evening with the whole family in Aegon and Helaena’s quarters. You were practically glued to her youngest child the whole night, unaware of your husband’s stare as he watched you babble away in gibberish to the young baby.

“Do you need instructions on where to stick your cock, brother?” Aegon had clapped him on the shoulder as he joins him by the fireplace he was leaning against. Aemond hums in confusion, pulling his gaze away from you momentarily to glance at his brother.

“It’s out of brotherly love that I question why you haven’t put your seed in her yet. Have you not been married half a year now?” Aegon scoffs, downing his goblet full of wine before he tosses it aside.

“We don’t share the insatiable urge to fuck like rabbits the way you and your whores do, dear brother” Aemond bites back, causing Aegon to raise his hands up in defense.

“At least I feel the urge to touch them, not once since your wedding have I seen you embrace her— not even with a simple kiss” Aegon was right, after their wedding night, Aemond didn’t bother trying to share any affection with you. In his heart he knew his kind touch and warm embrace were reserved for the one woman who held his heart in her hands.

“Y/N…” Aemond hums, stopping you in your tracks as you stop walking down the hall. You feel his hand embrace yours as he turns your body to face him, his touch warm as he cups your hand in his.

“H—how was your day?” He questions you, his stutter causing him to curse at himself internally as he notes how foolish he sounds. You let out a little laugh at how confusing he was being, you spent the walk back here in utter silence and he chooses only now to ask you.

“It was like every other day I have here. Meredith made me chocolate muffins— they were divine” You hum, unsure of what else to talk about you ask him the same question.

“My day was mediocre at best, one can only bare Aegon for so long”

You hum in understanding, Aegon was more than a handful. He was torture when he wanted to be, which was majority of the time he was in anyone’s presence. You’re blessed to be married to the tamer brother, the same one who still had your hand in his grasp.

“If that is all, I wish you goodnight Prince Aemond” You hum, pulling your hand from his grasp completely before you turn on your heel and continue on your way to your new bedchamber.

Discomfort sits in his stomach at your use of his formal name, it was as though he wasn’t your husband— a stranger to you almost. He feels guilt reside in him as he reflects on how he would chastise you for calling him terms of endearment that Alys often used. It’s only now as he watches her walk away from him and disappear into her bedchamber that he realises he would give an arm and a leg to hear you call him those names once again.

Much to your dismay, you can barely sleep a wink. You toss and turn against your cold sheets , frustrated and confused as to why you couldn’t sleep soundly in your own space. No longer did you have to sleep stiffly because Aemond was on the other half of your bed. You had all the freedom in the world to sleep, yet you couldn’t even as you tried your hardest to.

You decide to take a walk in the garden to clear your head and hopefully tire yourself out enough to finally rest. Sighing heavily, you admire the warm air that fans against your skin as you quietly make your way down the halls. Your eyes widen slightly as you see his long silver hair, his eye focused on the moonlight that beams through the trees leaves above him. For once in your marriage you seem to finally sync as you realise he couldn’t sleep either, needing the comfort of nature to clear his head.

“You couldn’t rest either?” You hum as you approach him, the leaves crunching beneath your bare feet as you move closer to him. He seems startled at first, exhaling in relief when he recognises his wife’s voice.

“It seems as though I have grown used to the warmth of your body beside mine— your absence has turned me into an insomniac” Aemond admits truthfully, causing something inside of your gut to spark when you hear his words.

“It appears your absence has caused me to have the same troubles” You chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest as you look up at the leaves above your head, fascinated by it’s pretty colour.

“We shall grow used to it as time passes” You exhale, hoping that you don’t suffer the same fate tomorrow night. He’s taken aback by your statement, his eye resting on your face.

“Time passes? How long do you intend on being separated?” If you weren’t aware of Aemond’s true feelings toward you, you would almost hear the hint of sadness in his voice as he speaks.

“I was meaning to discuss this matter with you in a week’s time, but seeing as we’re alone and at our most vulnerable— I shall inform you now” Your words cause his pulse to quicken, he involuntarily feels his heart pound as you turn to face him. He didn’t know what to expect.

“I know this marriage wasn’t one formed from a love match. I’m the last person you wished to marry and somehow we still found ourselves betrothed” You sigh heavily, reflecting on the moments you’ve shared as a married couple so far— most, if not all being ones where neither of you were happy.

“Someone else has ahold of your heart, it was never mine to claim and I was foolish for trying to in the first place. This marriage was always destined to fall” You grasp ahold of his hands in yours, the gesture causing your gazes to meet as he finally looks at your face.

“I give you my permission to pursue your beloved Alys, so long as we both continue this marriage for the sake of our family name and duties— nothing more, you are free to love her. I too will do the same, in hopes that I do one day find someone who loves me as much as you love her” You say in finalisation, watching his face for any sign of a reaction.

Aemond’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest at your words, he didn’t know how to feel. You were giving him a golden opportunity on a silver platter, he would get to love his Alys freely— without the guilt of already being a husband and that in itself sounded like heaven to him. Still, he was heavily conflicted. He wanted to confess to you that even with his love to Alys, he still longed for you— his wife that he had watch gradually lose herself because of him. It’s selfish of him to need you both, to want you almost as much as he wants her.

After a moment, Aemond finally nods his head in agreement— the words of truth being trapped in his throat as he fails to utter even a word to you. You give his hands a squeeze before you release your hold on him.

“This matter is settled then” You hum before you pull away from him. You bid him goodnight, your words barely processing in Aemond’s mind as he fails to speak. Instead he watches you walk away in silence, leaving him alone in the garden with his thoughts and his latest regret.

—

a/n: Idk about this ending tbh sorry if it’s meh but the final chapter will be worth it :p

tags <3