#and it takes a bit to set up a new bracket

[ferbracket]

Congratulations Heinz!

The original Heinz Doofenshmirtz has beaten his teacher equivalent

He also won against his daughter (in a very close match for a grand finale)

Who herself beat said teacher

[psformybss]

All Eyes on Us

drew starkey x actress!reader

a/n: i love writing them y'all. coming up with their banter and actress!reader’s sarcastic remarks is so fun.

You knew walking this red carpet was going to be chaotic.

You just didn’t realize it was going to feel like being dropped into a stadium full of caffeinated banshees.

The SUV creeps forward like it’s bracing for impact. Outside the window, the crowd is practically vibrating with excitement. Signs wave in the air, some with glitter, some with poorly printed cast photos, one that you’re pretty sure features a full mugshot of John B with hearts drawn around it in pink Sharpie. You blink. Yep, it’s laminated.

“Why are they screaming like we just discovered a new planet?” you mutter, leaning closer to the tinted glass as another shriek cuts through the air. “Or cured cancer. Or kissed in public. God forbid.”

From the seat beside you, Drew doesn’t even flinch. He’s a picture of unbothered calm in a perfectly tailored navy suit, one he claimed not to care about until he spent a full ten minutes adjusting the lapels in the mirror.

“They’re just excited,” he says, casual and collected like this isn’t his first soft-launch rodeo.

You raise an eyebrow. “Excited or unhinged?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “A little bit of both. Like Austin after three cups of hotel coffee.”

You groan and flop back into your seat. “I still can’t believe they made a bet about us.”

His mouth twitches with a smirk he clearly doesn’t deserve. “I can. Chase started a group chat for it.”

You whip your head toward him, scandalized. “There’s a group chat?”

“There’s a bracket,” he adds, like that somehow makes it less offensive.

Your jaw drops. “A bracket? They March Madness’d our relationship.”

“To be fair,” he says, utterly unbothered, “Carlicia did say you’d threaten a reporter.”

You blink. “Did I?”

“Not yet,” Drew replies, right as the car rolls to a stop.

Before you can decide whether to kick him or kiss him, the door swings open. You brace yourself, clutch in hand, as a tidal wave of noise slams into you like a brick wall wrapped in flashbulbs. Paparazzi, publicists, and screaming fans all blur into one overwhelming cloud of light and movement.

Drew steps out first, then turns and holds his hand out to you like some old-school gentleman or a Disney prince who swears too much.

You hesitate. “If I fall and eat it in front of Variety, I want you to tell everyone I died instantly.”

He’s already grinning. “I’ll say you were pushed.”

You take his hand.

The instant your heels touch the carpet, the crowd detonates like someone set off fireworks made of sound. Screams surge, flashes strobe like a disco on steroids, and for a dizzy second, it feels like you’ve stepped into an alternate dimension—one where you’re actually famous-famous, not just “supporting role on a Netflix show and allegedly dating Drew Starkey” famous.

A handler motions you forward. You and Drew exchange one look, that silent, chaotic kind of communication that says: Is this really happening? Are we really doing this? What timeline is this?

And then you both step forward.

“Drew! Y/N! Over here, please! Just the two of you!”

“This way! Perfect, hold it right there!”

“Smile!”

The cameras flash like lightning. You fall into autopilot, one hand resting on your hip, the other looping casually around Drew’s arm. He stands tall beside you, jaw set, posture cool, with that specific kind of confidence that says, I don’t care, but yes, I spent twenty minutes styling my hair in the hotel mirror.

Then, in that familiar low voice only you can hear, he leans in and says, “You’re about to break the internet.”

You don’t even blink. “Good. I was getting bored with it anyway.”

He laughs, quiet and genuine, and that’s when the flashes hit a new level of seizure-inducing frenzy.

You know what this looks like. Of course you do. The two of you standing close, laughing, touching like it’s second nature. It looks easy. It looks comfortable. It looks like love.

Which, naturally, makes you want to deny everything.

Before you can make a break for it, someone from Netflix—wearing a headset, holding an iPad, and already ten conversations behind—flags you down with the energy of a soccer mom late for carpool.

“Hi! Hi guys, can we grab you really quick for a soundbite?”

You glance at Drew like you’re weighing your chances of escape. “Do we have to?”

Drew, ever the media darling, flashes his camera-ready smile. “Play nice,” he says through clenched teeth.

You sigh like the universe has personally wronged you. “Ugh. Fine. For the fans.”

The interviewer is practically vibrating with excitement. “You two look amazing. First OBX red carpet, how’s it feel?”

You deadpan, “Loud. I had thoughts earlier. Haven’t heard one since I got out of the car.”

The interviewer laughs a little too hard. “You’re hilarious. And the look—who are you wearing?”

You glance down at your dress like you just remembered it exists. “Fabric. Mostly.”

Drew snorts beside you and quickly jumps in to rescue you from yourself. “She means Dior.”

You pat his chest sweetly. “Look at that. He’s not just a pretty face after all.”

He glances down at you, eyes crinkling with affection, like he’s memorizing your face. The kind of look that doesn’t just say I love you, but screams it in flashing lights, bold font, full caps.

You ignore it, obviously.

The interviewer, blissfully unaware that she’s standing in the middle of a will-they-won’t-they slow-burn romance arc, presses on. “So, what’s it like filming Season 3? Bigger? Wilder?”

“Less sleep,” you reply. “More sand in uncomfortable places.”

Drew nods. “Still haven’t found half my socks.”

Then comes the inevitable. A new reporter pushes in, eager, aggressive, eyes locked on you like she’s about to unearth TMZ gold. “You two walked together! Is this your official couple debut?”

You blink like you don’t understand the question. “Did we?”

Drew just smiles and slides his hand to the small of your back. Warm. Steady. Annoyingly perfect.

The photographer next to them chimes in before you can throw another sarcastic grenade. “One more together! Right here!”

You pose again, this time your head tilted toward Drew, expression softer, like you’re indulging the moment instead of fighting it. You glance sideways. He’s already looking at you.

Like you’ve hung the stars. Like you built the moon from scratch. Like he’s never wanted anything more than to just be here.

You scowl. “Stop staring at me like that.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Can’t.”

By the time you catch up with the rest of the cast, the chaos is in full swing.

“There they are!” Madison hollers, pointing with the energy of someone spotting a bear in the wild.

Rudy throws his hands up like he’s conducting an orchestra. “The power couple arrives!”

JD gives you both an exaggerated slow clap. “I lost fifty bucks, but you know what? Totally worth it.”

“Pay up, baby!” Carlicia sings, waving her phone triumphantly. “I told you they’d walk together. You owe me Korean BBQ.”

Austin slings an arm around Drew like a proud dad watching his son graduate from romantic denial. “My boy. Made it official. And didn’t even trip on his own shoelaces.”

Drew groans. “Please stop talking.”

You squint at Chase. “Okay but who did you bet on?”

He grins like the devil. “I bet you’d call someone out before the second photo op.”

“That’s fair,” you admit, then turn to Drew. “Is it too late to trip him?”

Madelyn slides over and gives you a once-over. “You guys looked like a Vogue spread back there. It’s honestly disgusting.”

You blow her a kiss and link your arm through Drew’s again.

More flashes. More shouting. Someone yells, “Group shot!” and the whole cast collapses together into a disorganized pile of limbs and designer clothing. JD lifts Carlicia off the ground like a human prop. Madison and Chase strike dramatic poses like they’re auditioning for a perfume commercial. Rudy keeps yelling, “Say chaos!” instead of “cheese.”

You and Drew end up in the middle of it, arms tangled, laughter shared under your breath, pressed in by a group of people who feel more like family than coworkers.

Later, after the screening, after the standing ovation, after at least three fans in the third row wept like it was Titanic and you’re pretty sure someone proposed to Chase (still waiting on confirmation), you and Drew finally manage your great escape.

You slip out of the afterparty like fugitives dodging bad cocktails and overly ambitious camera flashes, which, to be fair, isn’t far from the truth.

The rooftop is quieter, blessedly so. The bass from the party still pulses below, a faint heartbeat through concrete, but up here it’s still and cool. Cinematic. The kind of night that feels borrowed, like something you’re not supposed to have.

You kick off your heels the second your feet hit gravel, sighing like a tragic heroine freed from the constraints of fashion. Your dress pools around your legs as you settle on the ledge, toes dangling just over the edge like you’re flirting with gravity, or danger, or both.

Drew joins you a moment later. Of course he does.

He doesn’t speak, just takes the spot beside you like it belongs to him. He looks unfairly good for someone who’s been hugged, photographed, and possibly groped by Rudy in the last hour. His sleeves are rolled up, his collar undone, no tie in sight. There’s a flush on his cheeks from the champagne or the crowd or the simple fact of being too attractive in public, and his hair is just messy enough to look accidental.

“Damage report?” you ask, nudging your knee into his.

He glances over, eyes soft. “Define damage.”

“Did we bankrupt anyone in the betting pool?”

He laughs, low and easy. “No one had money on us walking in together and holding hands.”

You snort. “Amateurs.”

He grins. “Although Rudy’s still insisting you owe him a hug.”

“Gross. Tell Rudy I’d rather be mauled by a raccoon.”

“That was his second guess,” Drew says with a perfectly straight face.

You give him a look. “I hate how well that tracks.”

He leans back on his hands, tilts his head toward the sky. “You were great tonight.”

You toss your hair like a diva. “I know. I was charming, sarcastic, devastatingly hot in high-definition…”

“Flawless,” he says, like he’s stating a fact.

You squint at him. “You trying to get laid, Starkey?”

He smirks. “Not if I have to try.”

You make a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “God, you’re infuriating.”

“And yet.”

And yet, you’re still here. Barefoot on a rooftop, wearing a dress people will probably write headlines about, sitting beside him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

His gaze slides to you, softer now. A little more careful.

You don’t move. Don’t breathe.

Your heart skips a beat like it’s trying to trip you up. You nudge his shoulder with yours, playing it cool. Always playing it cool.

“You realize we’re going to be all over fan accounts by morning, right?”

He shrugs. “Let them talk.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re getting bold.”

Another shrug, just as easy. “I’m in love with you. Might as well let the world figure it out.”

You roll your eyes, instinctively. Sarcasm’s always been your favorite defense.

“Gross,” you mutter, cheeks warming. “You’re so annoyingly perfect.”

He leans in until his shoulder brushes yours. His voice drops, low and warm and steady. “Takes one to know one.”

You glance over. His smile. The crinkle at the corners of his eyes. The way he’s looking at you like he’s memorizing it all.

And then he’s closer.

So close.

Your breath catches, but you don’t pull back. Don’t tease. Don’t deflect.

Instead, you meet him halfway.

The kiss is soft at first—tentative, warm, something that hums low in your chest like the moment before a fire catches. His hand comes up, fingers curling gently around your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s still not sure you’re real.

You kiss him like you’ve been meaning to all night. Maybe longer.

He kisses you like he’s finally allowed to.

And when you pull back, just a breath apart, he’s still looking at you like the stars have nothing on you.

You let yourself lean into him. Just a little.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak.

He doesn’t need to.

[svt-luna]

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

Game Caterers x SEVENTEEN

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

wc: 21.3k

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

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ game caterers masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

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

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

[SEVENTEEN is taking a break]

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

[Wild SEVENTEEN wanders around]

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

[CARAT's enemies are doing something suspicious]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[11 people arrived in no time]

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

[All 14 including Dino are here]

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

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

['Super' Store opens]

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

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

[Starting with general items from the department store]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Items in various prices are available]

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

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

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

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

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

[What?]

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

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

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

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

[Effects of not eating lunch]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Some members are more materialistic than others]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[He's firm]

“See?” Luna said.

[And she’s right]

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

[Dino's going through adolescence]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[He picks the one and only pink mission]

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

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

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

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

[He didn't do anything]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Next customer is Jun]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Do all you can to kick it 10 times]

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

[What are you doing?]

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

[You got the wrong place]

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

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

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

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

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

“Fighting!” Luna said.

[The world thinks SEVENTEEN is athletic]

[But that's not true]

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

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

[Failed just as expected]

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

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

[The 1st customer to eat the lemon]

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

[Next is Wonwoo]

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

[The big spender]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Will he get to be a good son?]

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

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

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

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

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

[Only female member]

Wonwoo chuckled softly, "That's true."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Spotted their target]

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

[Cheaters vs. Cheaters]

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

[Handsome forehead]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Wonwoo wins the golf club]

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

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

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

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

[Sympathetic bunny]

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

[He really cares about his father]

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

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

[The next customer is bunny no. 1]

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

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

[Another big spender]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[She hates math the absolute most]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[She is somehow good at the thing she hates]

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

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

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

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

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

[Wins a prize on her first try]

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

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

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

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

[There are logos from every album]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Bunny no. 1 hates math but loves lemons]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[What a brilliant idea]

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

[Jealous] [The winners are laid back]

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

[Joshua joins them with Chamisul]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Only Seungkwan got it]

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

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

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

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

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

[He had 1 out of 4]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[They never said no]

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

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

[Sharing the penalty]

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

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

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

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

[Next is Mingyu]

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

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

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

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

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

[Taking his lemon in advance]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Walking away]

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

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

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

[Next is Dino]

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

[The perfect prize for him]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[The youngest points out the brutal fact]

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

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

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

[His shoulders are getting smaller]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[He becomes a good son]

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

[He wins the prize and the good son title]

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

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

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

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

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

[In the back?]

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

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

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

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

Dokyeom grinned, “The bulk snacks.”

[He carefully chose the 1-star prize]

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

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

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

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

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

[Here's the question]

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

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

“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down.

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

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

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

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

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

[Yes, leave]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Peekaboo]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[There are people who know]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[2 lemons are removing for answering half]

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys are something else,” Luna muttered with amusement, only to be poked in the waist by Jeonghan, who was still holding onto her from behind.

“I got ‘Baby Goblin’ to be honest,” Joshua said, trying to plead his case one last time.

“I think that counts, but your colleagues…” PD Na trailed off, gesturing toward the other members who were adamant about their lemon rule.

“Ya, don’t be obnoxious. Hurry up and leave,” Jeonghan said, slowly pushing Joshua toward the chairs, urging him to start eating his lemons as the rest of the members began to agree with the playful shove.

[Starting with the general leader everyone agrees very fast]

Luna, still laughing, couldn’t get over how competitive and petty they were all being.

“I still appreciate that you tried,” Joshua told PD Na before he sat down, defeated but still in good spirits, Luna watched him carefully, her smile softening into something a little more sympathetic.

“Josh,” she called softly, her English accent slipping out naturally as he called out his name.

Joshua turned to her, his eyes meeting hers with curiosity. Luna, still smiling, nodded toward him and reached out her hand, subtly gesturing for him to hand over a lemon. She then held up two fingers, signaling that she wanted two lemons, clearly offering to halve his punishment with him.

Joshua chuckled, grateful for her support, and passed her two lemons with a quiet “Thank you.”

[The lemon-eating bunny healper]

Before Luna could even take a bite, Mingyu reached over, attempting to snatch the lemons back out of her hand. “Let him eat all of it,” he teased, a playful smirk spreading across his face.

Luna, quick on her feet, turned her body, positioning herself so that she was now facing Jeonghan’s chest, who was still holding her. She hid the lemons between them and shot Mingyu a defiant look. “Why? What’s it to you if I help him? I like lemons,” she said confidently, popping one of the lemon slices into her mouth without hesitation.

Mingyu, seeing that he had lost, pouted in defeat while Jeonghan watched the whole scene unfold, clearly amused by Luna’s antics and Mingyu’s failed attempt to intervene.

[The next customer is holding a Dyson]

Hoshi stood at the front, cradling his newly won Dyson box with pride. His grin was wide as he examined the selection of prizes again, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Despite already having a fantastic win under his belt, Hoshi was not yet satisfied.

“I’ll go for something big. The Korean beef combo,” he declared confidently, handing PD Na his chosen slip of paper.

[Taking a big risk again]

As PD Na opened the paper, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Rock, paper, scissors,” he read aloud, barely holding back a chuckle.

[Producer Na isn't good at rock-paper-scissors]

“Your luck is insane today,” Luna remarked from behind him, her voice filled with both admiration and disbelief.

[Hoshi is lucky]

“You have a high chance of winning,” Jeonghan added with a knowing grin.

Hoshi, unable to contain his excitement, started jumping up and down, fists clenched in victory even before the game had started. “Let’s go!” he shouted, pumping himself up.

“I’m not good at rock-paper-scissors,” PD Na confessed with a slight chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck in faux nervousness.

[Mr. Game isn't confident]

PD Na, standing with a hand on his hip, took a deep breath. “Alright… Rock, paper, scissors!”

Hoshi, still buzzing with excitement, threw out his hand with scissors. PD Na, true to his earlier statement, fumbled with his decision and threw paper. A chorus of cheers exploded from SEVENTEEN, the members clapping and shouting with excitement as they rushed toward Hoshi to congratulate him. His scissors had cut right through PD Na’s paper, securing his victory.

“There’s a flow!” Dokyeom announced with pride, as if he’d coached Hoshi through the whole thing.

S.Coups, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, called out, “Let’s take everything.”

“Take only the expensive stuff,” Dino added with a laugh as they all watched Hoshi eagerly walk over to grab the prized box of Korean beef.

As Hoshi held the box up like a trophy, Mingyu’s voice cut through the celebrations. “Isn’t it just one bag? Does he get to take everything?” he asked, a teasing grin creeping onto his face.

Jeonghan, ever the troublemaker, leaned in toward PD Na and whispered conspiratorially, “Let’s say it’s one bag per game.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, not wanting Hoshi to make off with the entire prize. He glanced at Luna, who elbowed him playfully, shaking her head in disagreement. “One bag per game,” Jeonghan repeated, trying to sound serious as he covered his smile.

Mingyu, fully backing Jeonghan’s plan, nodded in agreement. “Come on, Yung Suk. One bag at a time. It’s $50 per bag!” he said, emphasizing the value with a laugh.

PD Na, sensing the tension and the joke behind it, decided to address the group. “SEVENTEEN goes by the majority. Will it be one bag at a time or the whole thing?” He looked around, letting the group decide.

“Isn’t it one bag at a time?” Seungkwan chimed in, siding with Jeonghan and Mingyu.

Jeonghan, always the smooth talker, clapped a hand on Hoshi’s shoulder. “You can only take one bag,” he said with a grin like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

Hoshi, his earlier victory still fresh, blinked in confusion. “I can only take one?”

Seungkwan, already at his side, began inspecting each bag as if making sure there wasn’t a trick. “You can only take one of them,” he confirmed.

[This is SEVENTEEN's teamwork]

S.Coups stepped forward, adding to the chaos. “Yeah, you can only take one of them. Which part do you want?” he asked, gesturing toward the different cuts of meat.

“What is wrong with you guys?” Joshua groaned, laughing as the pettiness of the situation finally dawned on him.

Hoshi, finally catching on to the teasing, held his ground. “It’s clearly a combo,” he argued, unwilling to back down after his win.

“No, you can only take one of them,” S.Coups pointed out again, his expression deadpan as if this was a serious rule.

“You look so petty,” Woozi remarked from the sidelines, shaking his head as the group burst into laughter.

Hoshi, feeling defeated but still in good spirits, sighed dramatically. “Fine, since got the Dyson,” he said, pretending to surrender as he started to return the Korean beef.

Before he could fully commit to giving it up, both Jeonghan and Vernon jumped in, their attitudes flipping in an instant. “No, take them all!” they said almost in unison, surprising Hoshi with their sudden change of heart.

Hoshi froze mid-step, his eyes wide as he turned back to look at them. “What?”

“S.Coups, don’t be so cheap and divide that by parts,” Jeonghan scolded, acting as though the entire argument hadn’t been his idea in the first place.

“That was you!” Joshua pointed out, unable to hold back his laughter.

[That was you 7 seconds ago]

Jeonghan, realizing he had been caught, laughed along with the others. “Take them all,” he insisted as if he was doing Hoshi a favor now.

PD Na, watching the whole scene unfold with amusement, couldn’t help but add, “Jeonghan gets to look nice.”

“Hoshi must be flustered,” Jeongan said.

[Bunny no. 1 is next once again]

Luna stood at the front again, having already won her first prize earlier, feeling the excitement bubbling within her. Her gaze was fixated on the two remaining Lego sets, her eyes drifting over the vibrant box of the Harry Potter Lego. Before she could make her decision, a familiar voice murmured close to her ear, just loud enough for only her to hear.

"Ferrari Lego, please." Jeonghan’s words came as a soft suggestion, and Luna felt his presence right next to her, his voice carrying a weight she couldn’t resist.

Without hesitation, Luna turned to PD Na, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll go for the Ferrari Lego,” she said confidently, knowing Jeonghan wanted it and was more than willing to win it for him.

[Bunny no. 1 cannot resist bunny no. 2]

Jeonghan, satisfied with her choice, tapped her waist gently three times— a silent yet intimate gesture. Luna’s smile grew wider; she knew what those three taps meant, only the two of them did. The gesture was subtle enough not to draw attention, but to her, it spoke volumes.

“You’re a big spender as well,” PD Na remarked as Luna confidently chose a slip of paper, handing it to him with a grin.

[Big spenders have all won]

He opened the paper and read it out loud, “Word relay.”

Luna nodded, focusing. “Okay,” she said, her expression determined as she prepared herself for whatever challenge lay ahead.

“Name five countries that start with the letter ‘M’ in five seconds,” PD Na announced, watching her closely.

Without missing a beat, Luna lifted her hand to count on her fingers. “Mexico, Monaco, Malaysia, Malta, Moldova,” she rattled off quickly, the words rolling effortlessly off her tongue.

[Big spenders tend to win twice in a row]

“You got it!” PD Na confirmed, sounding impressed as the rest of the members fell silent, staring at her in awe.

Jeonghan’s hand shot up for a high-five, which Luna enthusiastically met. “Good job!” he praised, his smile wide and genuine.

“Yay!” Luna exclaimed as she skipped forward, her excitement clear as she grabbed the Ferrari Lego set. She hugged the box to her chest, the satisfaction of her win radiating through her, then returned to pick up the Disney Lego set she had won earlier.

A chorus of amazement filled the room, the members voicing their disbelief at how quickly and smoothly she had won. “Wow!” “How did she know all that?” “Why is she so fast?”

“You see how Yoon Jeonghan is not complaining like earlier,” Hoshi pointed out with a knowing look, gesturing toward Jeonghan, who stood smugly.

[Tiger Hoshi noticed something]

This shifted everyone’s attention to Jeonghan, who simply smirked. “It’s because he knows he’s getting that Lego set later,” Hoshi added, his teasing tone making the group erupt into laughter.

“You’re right!” Mingyu agreed, pointing at Hoshi as if to back up the claim.

“I thought she was gonna pick the Harry Potter Lego,” Dokyeom added, surprised at Luna’s decision.

“Since when were you interested in cars?” Woozi asked Luna with a raised brow, making her laugh even harder.

[They know each other so well]

Before Luna could answer, Mingyu held up his hands, motioning for everyone to listen. “Wait, did you hear what he said to Jiyeonie earlier before she chose?” Mingyu asked, pointing at both Jeonghan and Luna, his mischievous grin betraying the secret.

“What? What?” S.Coups leaned in, eager to hear.

“‘Ferrari Lego, please’,” Mingyu mimicked Jeonghan’s earlier whisper, earning a round of laughter from everyone as they playfully scolded the two.

“Ya! Bae Jiyeon! Yoon Jeonghan!” Seungkwan called out, pretending to scold Luna, though his grin gave him away.

“Those two are really shameless,” S.Coups said.

[Bunnies got caught]

Luna, still laughing, didn’t deny anything, while Jeonghan stood next in line, smirking at the whole situation, his confidence unwavering.

[Not denying]

“Why are you even in line? You won already,” Mingyu teased, playfully pushing Jeonghan toward Luna’s prize knowing it was already his.

Jeonghan gave Mingyu a lazy smirk, clearly amused by the teasing. His long hair fell gracefully over his face as he casually combed it back with one hand, exuding a calm confidence. "What about it?" he retorted, his voice smooth and laid-back, "What's it to you?"

The subtle cockiness in his tone, paired with his effortless gesture, made the rest of the members chuckle, knowing all too well that this was classic Jeonghan — cool, unbothered, and always one step ahead when it came to witty comebacks.

Vernon stood in front of the table, tapping his fingers lightly on its surface as he glanced over at the remaining prizes. "I'll go for the tea set," he announced, his tone casual, as he handed PD Na the slip of paper he had chosen.

"The tea set?" PD Na repeated, gesturing to Minghao. "The8 just checked it."

"I didn't know there was tea," Minghao remarked, looking at the set with slight curiosity.

Vernon smiled. "I was eyeing it from the start."

"This isn’t easy," PD Na said, as he read what was written on the slip.

Vernon raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to glance at the note. "Look at the pictures and arrange them by order," he read aloud, shrugging. "How can that be hard?"

Without a word, PD Na reached behind him and pulled out a stack of papers, careful to keep them hidden from Vernon's view. "You should be able to get it," he said with a grin that hinted at the challenge ahead.

[Genre: Arrange Jeonghan's pictures by order]

[Arrange 4 pictures in order] [They're all from different periods] [Remember he never ages]

Luna, sitting with Jeonghan on the chairs, caught sight of the pictures and immediately started laughing. "That’s hard," she commented, as she and Jeonghan moved closer to the table to get a better look.

“You should be able to get it.” PD Na told Vernon.

The rest of the members began to murmur and exclaim in unison. "Ahhh…" they said, their curiosity piqued as PD Na revealed the challenge.

"Arrange it by order," PD Na instructed, laying out four pictures of Jeonghan from different eras of their career.

Vernon blinked, staring at the photos in slight confusion. "What is this?" he muttered under his breath, clearly thrown off by the task.

Seungkwan let out a whine as he hovered near the table. "I’m so good at this! That’s my field of expertise!" His voice was a mix of genuine annoyance and playful boasting.

Dino, Jun, and Hoshi immediately mimicked Seungkwan’s tone, their exaggerated impressions sending the members into a fit of laughter. Seungkwan joined in the laughter but remained adamant. "I’m good at it!" he repeated.

Vernon began carefully arranging the photos on the table, the rest of the members crowding around him to observe. His brow furrowed as he tried to differentiate between the images.

[He carefully arranges the pictures]

"They’re all the same," Luna chuckled, glancing at Jeonghan, whose face remained consistently youthful in all the pictures.

Even Jeonghan joined in, shaking his head. "Even I can’t do it," he said, a chuckle escaping as he leaned closer to get a better look at the photos. PD Na began counting down the seconds, adding more pressure.

"They all look just the same," S.Coups added, echoing the sentiment as Vernon rearranged them for what felt like the hundredth time.

Jeonghan erupted into laughter. "He has no idea," he teased, making the rest of the group chuckle again.

Vernon glanced at the photos, his confusion evident. "I mean, don’t they all look the same? It looks like you from the other day," he said as he pointed at Jeonghan.

[Just different hair style]

"Focus on the hair color, Vernon," Luna suggested gently from behind, offering a helpful tip as she moved closer.

"Are you done?" PD Na asked, glancing at the clock to remind him that time was running out.

Vernon sighed and turned back to the pictures. "Do I get a chance to change it?" he asked, hoping for a lifeline.

"You have one last chance," PD Na confirmed, watching him intently.

Mingyu, ever the playful instigator, leaned in close to Vernon, whispering like a devil on his shoulder, "Don’t change it. Don’t. There’s a reason why he’s telling you to change it."

Vernon considered his words, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is it a high degree of mind game?" he mused before turning back to the photos. After a moment of contemplation, he made his final decision. "I’ll go with this."

Luna giggled as she moved closer to Jeonghan again, back-hugging him as her chin rested on his shoulder. She peeked over, knowing Vernon had made a mistake. "Aigo…"

"Vernon, should I say you're firm?" PD Na began, smiling as he prepared to reveal the result. "Here’s the answer."

He pointed to the first picture. "Number one is correct."

A brief moment of triumph spread across Vernon’s face until PD Na moved on to the rest of the photos.

"Here’s number two," PD Na said, shifting to the second photo, "here comes number four… and number three is last."

Luna, still perched behind Jeonghan, grinned. "You only got one right."

Vernon sighed, pointing at the first picture. "That’s ‘Don’t Wanna Cry.’"

[They recognize it by his hair] [’Don't Wanna Cry', May 2017]

Mingyu pointed at the second picture, laughing. "That’s ‘CLAP.’"

"Is it?" Jeonghan asked, equally puzzled by his own face.

"Isn’t that ‘THANKS’?" Vernon added, still trying to make sense of it all.

"I had pink hair for ‘CLAP,’" Jeonghan interjected, trying to sort through the visual timeline of his hairstyles.

PD Na chuckled at Jeonghan’s confusion, "I’m sorry, but aren’t these your pictures?"

Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh along. "I can’t tell either. This is so hard."

"That was so hard," Seungkwan chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief. "It’s hard because you never age," He added as he turned to Jeonghan, teasing him. "You’re always so consistent."

"They were all the same," Vernon grumbled playfully as he accepted his defeat and began to eat his lemons.

Mingyu, still determined to claim victory after his earlier failure, stood with a renewed sense of purpose. His competitive spirit was palpable as he approached PD Na, his brows furrowed with focus. "I'll try for golf balls," he declared, handing over the slip of paper he had chosen. "I’d rather pick the Character Quiz." He pouted, half-joking, trying to mask his nervousness.

[Mingyu returns for golf balls]

PD Na unfolded the paper and glanced at what was written. "SEVENTEEN Quiz," he read out loud, grinning. "This won’t be easy."

Mingyu straightened, ready for the challenge, though the uncertainty was clear in his eyes.

PD Na looked him squarely in the face before delivering the question. "When’s S.Coups' birthday?"

Mingyu’s face lit up with surprise, not expecting such a simple query. "August 8," he answered without hesitation, his voice laced with disbelief at the ease of the question.

"Ya, that’s too easy," Luna piped up from her seat, shaking her head with a laugh.

PD Na chuckled, equally shocked at how simple it had been. "You got it. Good job," he congratulated Mingyu, though his tone revealed how anticlimactic the moment felt.

"We all know each other’s birthdays," Seungkwan chimed in, turning to PD Na with an almost proud expression.

"I know their birthdays," Mingyu said, his chest puffed out in confidence as he absorbed the victory.

PD Na raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do you remember each other's birthdays?" he asked, his voice rising with playful skepticism.

A chorus of "Yes" and "Of course" echoed across the room as the members responded in unison, their voices overlapping with laughter and confidence.

"Really?" PD Na pressed, still amused by how naturally they remembered.

Luna giggled at the disbelief in his tone. "Why is that so shocking?"

"It was so easy. I was like, ‘August 8?’" Mingyu repeated, still bewildered that the question had been such a breeze.

Joshua leaned forward from his chair, nodding thoughtfully. "We get very disappointed if we don’t remember it."

Luna nodded in agreement, her tone softer as she added, "We’ve known each other for years. It’d be weird if we didn’t know."

Mingyu, still basking in his small victory, broke into a playful tune. "The golf balls," he sang lightly as he approached the table to collect his prize, a wide grin stretching across his face.

PD Na shook his head with a laugh, clearly amused by the whole interaction. "I worked with Hyo Jung for twenty years, but I don’t know her birthday," he admitted, pointing at the other producer standing beside him.

The members roared with laughter, the room filling with their amusement. Joshua’s sharp wit cut through the noise as he teasingly remarked, "She’s disappointed."

PD Na shook his head again, this time with a mock sigh. "You don’t know my birthday either," he told Hyo Jung, his nod full of playful accusation.

"She can’t complain," S.Coups chimed in.

It was finally Minghao's turn, and he eyed the prize he had wanted from the start— the delicate tea set that sat neatly on the prize table. With a small, determined smile, he turned to PD Na. "I want the tea set," he said, his voice clear but calm. He handed over the slip of paper with his mission written on it, fully prepared for whatever challenge lay ahead.

"Word Relay," PD Na announced, holding up the paper for Minghao to see. A ripple of laughter went through the group as Minghao tilted his head in confusion.

"How can a word have a relay?" Minghao asked, his innocent question making the other members burst into laughter.

PD Na chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "Here’s what you’re going to do," he began, speaking slowly for clarity. "You know body parts, right?"

"Yes," Minghao nodded.

"Okay. What’s this?" PD Na pointed at his own ear.

"Ear," Minghao answered confidently.

"Right. Now, just like an ear, say five one-syllable body parts," PD Na explained, giving him the mission.

Without missing a beat, Minghao slowly fired off his answers. "Liver, ear, mouth, nose, eye. Wahh!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in victory as he walked back to his place, grinning as the others clapped and cheered for him.

"Good job! Good job, Hao!" Luna shouted, standing from her seat and clapping with a huge smile on her face, as though she were a proud parent.

But Seungkwan, ever the perfectionist, raised an eyebrow. "Does the liver count?" he asked, glancing around.

"Of course it does," Luna quickly answered.

"Of course. It’s still in your body," Minghao added matter-of-factly, his innocent tone causing more laughter to erupt among the group.

"It counts. It’s a body part," PD Na confirmed with a grin, amused by the dynamic.

Minghao turned to Seungkwan with a playful, slightly confused look. "Isn’t a liver part of your body? You don’t know how to play this," he said, his genuine innocence adding to his adorable charm.

"That wasn’t so easy," PD Na acknowledged, giving Minghao a nod of approval.

But Minghao, beaming with pride, hugged his newly won tea set close to his chest. "It works if you try," he said, giggling softly at his own success.

[Happy]

"You did it," PD Na said, smiling at the satisfaction on Minghao’s face.

"Thank you," Minghao replied, still holding onto his prize.

"You love tea. This is great," Dino clapped for him, happy to see Minghao with a prize that fit him so perfectly.

Minghao chuckled as he moved back into line, admiring his prize closely. "This is really pretty," he said softly, almost to himself.

"Yes, it’s pretty," Mingyu agreed, leaning over to get a closer look at the tea set.

Meanwhile, Luna, who had returned to her seat next to Jeonghan, covered her mouth with her hand, giggling at the scene in front of her. She glanced at Jeonghan, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"Why?" Jeonghan asked, smiling warmly at her.

"Minghao is so cute," Luna pouted dramatically, placing both hands over her chest as though it pained her how adorable Minghao was. Her exaggerated reaction made Jeonghan chuckle softly at her.

It was Dino’s turn once more, and determination flashed in his eyes. He had his sights set on one thing: the razor set.

"I'll try for razors again," Dino said confidently as he stepped forward.

[The regular customer who's only after the razors]

From the back of the line, Wonwoo couldn’t help but giggle. "Dino wants the razor set," he teased.

"I've got to get it," Dino muttered to himself, clenching his fists in focus as he handed the slip of paper he’d chosen over to PD Na.

[I'll get it this time]

PD Na unfolded the paper, and before he could even fold it back, Mingyu, standing in the middle of the line, caught sight of what was written. He burst into laughter, clapping his hands.

"But it’s so windy!" Mingyu exclaimed, his voice betraying the mischief in his mind.

"Did you see it, Mingyu?" PD Na asked, amused by Mingyu’s sudden outburst.

Mingyu laughed harder, doubling over and falling onto the ground in exaggerated glee. "You can read others’ misfortune very fast," PD Na commented, shaking his head while the rest of the group looked on in confusion.

"What was it?" Dino asked, his brow furrowed, feeling a sense of impending doom.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Mingyu said, clapping excitedly.

Finally, PD Na revealed the mission, "Light the match at once."

[Oh, poor Dino]

The group erupted into laughter. With how windy it was— hair flying everywhere, whether long or short— it was near impossible.

"Oh no," Luna chuckled, shaking her head sympathetically at Dino.

"That’s impossible," Dokyeom chimed in.

"Light the match in five seconds upon receiving it," PD Na repeated, sending the group into further hysterics.

Dino, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie, prepared for the challenge. "Wait," he said, trying to mentally brace himself.

"And after lighting it, the match has to stay lit for 3 seconds," PD Na added, causing another burst of laughter. PD Na placed a box of matches in front of Dino, his face barely holding back a smile. "Go," he instructed.

Quickly, Dino grabbed the box of matches, his fingers fumbling slightly as adrenaline coursed through him. The rest of the members abandoned their seats and positions in the line, crowding around Dino as if this were a grand spectacle. PD Na began the countdown as everyone tried to offer their help.

"Block the wind with your body," Mingyu suggested, leaning in.

"Like that, hunch over like that," Luna said from the side, her voice filled with encouragement as Dino bent over, shielding his hands from the relentless wind.

"Go easy. No need to use your strength," Jeonghan advised, his calm voice contrasting with the chaos around him.

[With other members' help and advice]

Dino struck the match, his hands working quickly— but as soon as it lit, the flame flickered and died almost instantly.

[Snap] [Gone]

The group exploded into laughter. "Why did you die, buddy?" Dino whined dramatically to the match, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"It went off right away!" Dokyeom said, shaking his head in sympathy. "That’s horrible."

[It died] [In 0.01 seconds]

PD Na chuckled at Dino's failed attempt, "You didn’t ask for something big. All you wanted was razors."

"How many lemons has he eaten now?" S.Coups asked, pointing at Dino with a grin, knowing that Dino had already consumed six sour lemons in his quest for the razors.

[6 lemons while trying to get razors]

"Dino the lemon," Hoshi teased, flashing a mischievous smile.

"Dino the lemon," Joshua echoed, chuckling along with the rest of the group, as Dino sat there eating his lemons, half-amused, half-frustrated at his misfortune.

It was Jun’s turn once again, his eyes gleamed with determination. "I want the Harry Potter Lego," he declared confidently, handing the paper to PD Na.

[He chose the last Lego]

PD Na opened the slip of paper and squinted slightly as he read the challenge aloud. "This will be tough... Make me laugh in ten seconds," he said, trying to hold back a smile. The group erupted in laughter once more.

"Think out of the box, Jun!" Luna called out encouragingly, while Jeonghan gently dragged her by the wrist as they moved to the back of the line together, trying their luck once more.

"Who knows? You might be able to do it," Woozi said, adding his support, although his smirk suggested he wasn’t sure if Jun could pull it off.

PD Na slowly began counting down from ten. "Ten... nine..."

[The countdown begins]

Jun blinked, suddenly realizing the countdown had started. "Has it started?" he asked, eyes widening in a mild panic.

[He doesn't know what to do]

"Seven... six..."

Jun thought for a moment, staring at PD Na, his mind racing. Desperation crept in, and as the seconds ticked away, he quickly scrunched up his face into the goofiest expression he could think of.

[He first tries to frown his face] [Ta-da]

However, PD Na remained stone-faced, not even a hint of a smile crossing his features.

[He's too handsome to be funny]

"Five... four..." The tension built as Jun began to sweat.

"Hurry!" Minghao shouted from the back, egging Jun on.

With only three seconds left, Jun’s mind went blank, but then, an idea struck him. "What about tickling?" he said out loud. Before anyone could stop him, Jun lunged forward and started tickling PD Na’s sides.

[As soon as he started tickling, Producer Na laughed]

The suddenness of it caught PD Na completely off guard. His composure crumbled instantly as laughter burst from him, his face twisting in both amusement and shock. He hadn't expected this tactic at all. PD Na laughed, but his surprised smile didn’t fade. He stared at Jun, still reeling from the unexpected assault of tickles.

Jun celebrated wildly, jumping up and down as the members cheered him on.

"You’re a genius!" Dokyeom clapped Jun on the back, clearly impressed.

[In a way that no one expected]

"I’ve never thought about that!" PD Na said, still recovering. He shook his head in disbelief. "But you did it," he added, a begrudging smile on his face.

With a victorious grin, Jun bounded toward the prize table and grabbed the last Harry Potter Lego set, a bounce in his step as if he’d just conquered the world.

"I would’ve never thought about tickling," Joshua said, shaking his head in amusement as he watched Jun cradle the box like a trophy.

It was S.Coups' turn next, and with a calm, confident stride, he handed the paper he had chosen over to PD Na.

“S.Coups, born on August 8,” PD Na teased, playfully emphasizing the detail, causing a few chuckles among the members.

S.Coups pointed directly at the gift certificate, eyeing it like a prized possession. “I want the gift certificate,” he said decisively.

From the sidelines, Seungkwan let out a mock whine, his voice rising comically. “That’s mine!” Seungkwan exclaimed, earning amused glances from the other members.

PD Na mirrored Seungkwan’s whining tone, further adding to the playful tension in the room. “What’s going on?” PD Na asked dramatically before focusing back on the paper. He laughed as he noticed yet another easy mission. “Okay, SEVENTEEN Quiz,” he announced.

“The social media manager,” Wonwoo teased, referencing S.Coups’ well-known position as the unofficial information hub of the group.

“Most informative,” Dokyeom added with a knowing smirk, poking fun at the ease of the quiz missions.

PD Na glanced at the remaining papers in the bowl. “So many people have picked SEVENTEEN Quiz. There are only easy ones left now.” He paused for effect before reading the question aloud. “How do you spell PLEDIS?”

S.Coups didn’t hesitate for even a second. “P, L, E, D, I, S,” he answered with a slight grin as if the question was too simple for his level.

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed with a slight nod of acknowledgment.

Without missing a beat, S.Coups moved away from the line, making a beeline for the gift certificate. His fellow members couldn’t help but react.

“That’s too easy,” Luna commented with a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“That’s so easy,” Vernon echoed, equally amused by the simplicity of the question.

It was Dokyeom’s turn once again, and he stepped forward confidently to grab a paper from the bucket. As he did so, he tried to spell PLEDIS aloud, “P, L, E, I, D, S,” nodding to himself, completely unaware of his mistake.

PD Na, noticing the error, quickly grabbed the bucket out of Dokyeom’s reach, chuckling, “What did you just say?”

Dokyeom blinked in surprise and then burst into laughter, realizing his mistake. “Can I just pick one?” he asked, still giggling at his blunder.

[He must be from a different agency]

“People get confused sometimes!” Dokyeom defended, still laughing as he finally pulled a paper from the bucket and handed it to PD Na. “I’ll try for the bulk snack,” he said with a hopeful grin.

PD Na opened the paper, reading the mission aloud, “Object Quiz.” He turned around and reached for a picture, revealing it to Dokyeom, who stared at it, completely baffled. The image was of some random object, but Dokyeom looked at it with wide eyes, clearly at a loss for words.

“Beating?” Dokyeom said, blurting out nonsense in an attempt to answer, but PD Na shook his head, “Wrong.”

Dokyeom let out a defeated sigh and grabbed his cup of lemons, moving back to the seating area to eat as the members chuckled at his answer.

“What even is that?” S.Coups asked, puzzled, as Dokyeom sat down.

[The good son appears again]

Next in line was Wonwoo, who still clutched the golf club and golf balls he had won earlier. He eyed the sack of dog food sitting on the prize table, clearly planning to win it for his father. “My dad has a dog,” he commented casually, a determined glint in his eye.

“Is that your theme? Being a good son?” PD Na teased as Wonwoo handed him the paper he had picked.

[Golf club for his father] [Golf balls for his father]

PD Na read the next quiz question aloud, “What’s Newton’s full name?”

Wonwoo froze, completely at a loss for the answer. The silence hung in the air as PD Na started his countdown, but Wonwoo didn’t say a word.

“Jimmy Newton,” Dokyeom muttered from his seat, trying to be helpful but only making things worse, as S.Coups and Woozi doubled over in laughter.

“Isaac Newton,” Luna and Vernon said in unison from the back, their voices overlapping as they both got the answer right.

“You two got it,” PD Na acknowledged with a nod, though it wasn’t their question.

Wonwoo shrugged as he left the line, missing out on the dog food, but his poker face never faltered, earning a few more chuckles from the group as the game continued.

[The real rich appears] [Korean beef combo] [Dyson]

Hoshi stepped forward once again, a box of Dyson appliances in one hand and a Korean beef set tucked under his arm, looking rather content with his winnings so far. PD Na, noticing Hoshi's abundance of prizes, pointed at him with a grin and then at Wonwoo, who was standing to the side with only his golf club and golf balls. "I’m sorry, but he’s not that rich,” PD Na said, gesturing to Wonwoo, making everyone burst into laughter.

Hoshi nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled another paper from the bucket and handed it to PD Na.

PD Na opened it and read aloud, “Old abbreviation quiz.”

“Old abbreviations?” Vernon repeated, his brow furrowing as he glanced at Hoshi, who looked equally confused.

“Yes,” PD Na warned as he consulted his cue cards. “What does ‘WWKSB’ mean?”

Hoshi blinked, completely lost.

"What?" Luna murmured from her place in the middle of the line, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"’Why don't we...?’" Hoshi started, but he trailed off, unable to think of the rest of the phrase. He looked desperate for inspiration, but before he could come up with anything, PD Na’s countdown ended.

"Wrong!" PD Na declared, shaking his head.

"Isn’t it ‘Why don’t we kiss since we’re bored’?” S.Coups chimed in casually, earning shocked looks from a few members.

“Really?” Hoshi turned to S.Coups, disbelief written all over his face.

PD Na laughed and nodded. “Yes— ‘Why don’t we kiss since we’re bored?’”

Luna stood in line, her arms crossed over her chest, her face calm and unreadable as she processed the answer. But beside her, Jeonghan turned to her the instant PD Na gave the answer, his eyes glinting with mischief and knowing. His gaze seemed to imply a teasing suggestion as if he were echoing what the answer had just revealed.

Luna could feel the weight of Jeonghan’s stare on her face, the amusement radiating off him, but she kept her face forward, refusing to give him the reaction he was clearly baiting for— especially with cameras rolling. Yet, the intensity of his stare was relentless, and despite her composure, she knew he wouldn’t let up.

After a few more moments, still feeling the intensity of his gaze and the smirk undoubtedly playing on his lips, Luna subtly shifted her eyes upward, locking her gaze with his without turning her head. She raised her eyebrow ever so slightly, silently challenging him. Jeonghan’s lazy smirk only widened, his long black hair framing his face as he stared at her, utterly entertained. His tongue flicked over his lips briefly, making her grin at his persistence before she turned her attention back in front, letting the moment dissolve without a word exchanged between them.

“‘WWKSB?’” Vernon echoed, nodding as if learning something entirely new about the past.

“I guess people were more open-minded back in the day,” Hoshi deadpanned, his expression comically serious. PD Na and the rest of the crew couldn’t contain their laughter.

Hoshi, unbothered, moved away from the line with a resigned shrug, grabbing his cup of lemons as he prepared to take a seat. “Why would you kiss when you’re bored?”

Seungkwan, who had been quietly processing the absurdity of it all, mimicked the abbreviation. “WWKSB?” he said in a teasing tone, nudging Dino.

“Why don’t you stop?” Dino responded with the same tone, and the two dissolved into laughter.

Vernon stepped up for his third attempt, visibly more determined but equally unsure, having yet to claim any prizes so far. His eyes darted to the bucket of papers, scanning for any that could give him an advantage, but luck was hard to read.

[3rd visit] [Vernon still hasn't won anything yet]

He drew a slip and handed it to PD Na, who glanced at it and read aloud, “Proverb Relay.”

At that, Vernon let out a visible groan and physically cringed. “Proverbs... ah,” he mumbled, already anticipating his failure.

“That’s what I’m good at,” Wonwoo chimed in confidently from his seat at the side.

“You have to answer immediately,” PD Na instructed, putting Vernon on the spot with a serious tone, giving him no time to overthink. “‘One man sows—?’”

Vernon’s brows furrowed in concentration, but then, in a total shot in the dark, he answered, “‘The fox reaps’?”

“Wrong,” PD Na declared with a smirk, much to the amusement of the others.

“What is it?” Vernon asked, confused but chuckling at his wild guess.

“It’s ‘One man sows, another man reaps,’” PD Na clarified.

Next in line was Mingyu, stepping forward for another chance at redemption. Mingyu grabbed his paper and, with a quick glance at PD Na, handed it over. Woozi, seeing Mingyu’s confident stance, teased from the back, “Mingyu won’t get it.”

Mingyu turned slightly, not one to let the joke go unnoticed. “Why would you say that? I still got one prize!” he defended as he showed off his golf balls.

Unbothered, PD Na read the paper. “It’s a Logo Quiz.”

“That’s easy,” Minghao called out from behind, encouraging Mingyu with his usual calm tone.

PD Na pulled out a picture, held it up in front of Mingyu, and immediately started counting down. “One, two, three—?”

Without hesitating, Mingyu blurted, “Simyang!”

“That’s Korea Music Copyright Association,” Woozi said, his sharp eyes always catching such details.

“That’s right— Korea Music Copyright Association,” PD Na confirmed, a satisfied nod directed at Woozi.

“I got it,” Woozi said, proud of his keen observation

[It was so easy for the producer]

“Woozi is the only one who got it right,” PD Na added for emphasis, as the rest of the group chuckled.

“He’s basically a permanent employee,” S.Coups added, pointing at Woozi like he’d already earned a spot in the association’s hierarchy.

“I even have their app,” Woozi boasted, laughing as PD Na handed him the photo again, testing him.

“Woozi, what’s this?” PD Na asked, showing the picture once more.

“Korea Music Copyright Association,” Woozi replied effortlessly, proving his point again.

[Woozi has the copyright for 147 songs]

“This is crazy... It’s so embarrassing,” Mingyu muttered as he moved to grab his cup of lemons.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” PD Na said with a comforting grin. “Just have some lemons.”

“You’re right,” Mingyu conceded, playfully surrendering as he left the line, still shaking his head in disbelief.

Minghao stepped up for his next attempt, eyes glancing at the bucket of papers before settling on one. He plucked it out with ease and handed it to PD Na, his expression calm and collected as always. "I want the slippers," he stated, pointing at the prize he had his sights set on.

Jeonghan, standing to the side, chimed in, “You might have a lot of guests at home,” teasing Minghao in his usual soft-spoken but playful tone.

PD Na opened the slip and read aloud, “It’s a Korean movie title.”

Jun, who stood nearby, gave his teammate a reassuring nod. “That could be easy. You’ve watched a lot of movies,” he said, trying to encourage Minghao, though everyone knew this wasn’t going to be as simple as it seemed.

PD Na raised his eyebrows at Minghao and announced, “You have five seconds.”

Minghao’s expression shifted into one of mild disbelief. “Five seconds? That’s too short,” he said, then added with a clever smirk, “I’m The8. Give me eight seconds.”

The group burst into laughter at his quick-witted response. “That makes sense,” Luna quipped, joining in on the joke.

PD Na chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re the one who said eye, nose, mouth, and liver earlier. I’ll give you seven seconds.”

With that, PD Na showed the card with the initials ‘DTL’ on it. “It’s a Korean movie,” PD Na said, starting to count down.

Minghao’s brow furrowed as he stared at the letters on the card, trying to piece together the title. His focus was intense, but the seconds ticked away too quickly. 

“That’s so easy!” Seungkwan whined from the back, watching with eager anticipation.

“What is it?” Jeonghan and Luna muttered to each other, both squinting at the letters, equally stumped.

But before Minghao could answer his time ran out, PD Na announced, “Wrong!”

Immediately, Minghao turned to Seungkwan, pretending to be offended. “I got it wrong because of you!” he playfully scolded, causing a ripple of laughter to echo through the group.

Seungkwan pouted, “You couldn’t get it anyway. It’s ‘Decision to Leave’.”

The members collectively groaned in realization, a chorus of “Ahhh” filling the air as they pieced it together.

As the challenge drew closer to its end, PD Na glanced at the remaining members still standing in line and announced, "I'll be closing soon. Only those who haven't won anything should line up."

With that, Luna and the other members who had already won prizes took their seats off to the side. Some settled on chairs while others sat cross-legged on the ground, all watching the final contestants. Jeonghan, Vernon, Seungkwan, and Dino were the last ones standing in line.

[Next customer is Jeonghan]

[Rummage] [What's he doing?]

Jeonghan, a known game cheater from their ‘Going Seventeen’ antics, was already up to his usual tricks. He rummaged through the remaining papers, eyes squinting as he tried to read the questions through the faint marker lines that had bled through the back of the paper.

"You can’t go through the questions," one of the writers said, eyeing Jeonghan suspiciously.

Jeonghan simply chuckled, casually continuing his sneaky mission. PD Na, watching from a distance, stared at Jeonghan in confusion. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go through them,” PD Na repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

Feigning innocence, Jeonghan smiled and chose his prize. “I’ll go for the glove— I’ll mix them,” he said, before pretending to mix the papers up. However, his fingers were already gripping onto one specific paper, clearly hoping for an easier question.

“I’m sorry, but you held onto it when you shook them up,” PD Na pointed out, calling Jeonghan out on his cheeky tactics. The observation earned PD Na a laugh from Jeonghan, who finally picked a different paper and handed it over.

“It’s Four-character Idiom Relay,” PD Na announced, causing a wave of groans and laughter from the group as Jeonghan’s face fell into a look of mock defeat.

“You can do it,” Luna encouraged, clapping lightly from the side, followed by several other voices.

“We should make a new idiom for today,” Mingyu joked from the sidelines.

"You got this," Jun said, backing Jeonghan with playful confidence.

With a sigh, Jeonghan straightened up. “No pain, no gain,” he declared confidently.

PD Na blinked, confused. “I haven’t started yet,” he said, which sent the group into a fit of laughter. 

“You have to say it right away,” PD Na reminded him before reading the first part of the idiom. “Ome?”

“Ga-3,” Jeonghan answered without hesitation, a cheeky grin on his face.

[What?]

The room erupted into loud laughter as PD Na announced, “Wrong!”

[Omega-3: fatty acid needed for normal growth and health]

"It’s omebulmang," Seungkwan chimed in through his own laughter, shaking his head at Jeonghan’s hilariously absurd answer.

Luna toppled over, leaning on Dokyeom as she laughed uncontrollably. "That was amazing," she wheezed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from laughing so hard.

“That was a good one,” Joshua agreed, nodding approvingly at Jeonghan’s absurd creativity.

[Nice wrong answer]

From the side, Dokyeom couldn’t help but add, “From now on, it’s Omega-3.”

“I’m jealous that he was funny,” Seungkwan pouted, still giggling at the chaos.

“Omega-3 was brilliant,” Dokyeom repeated, shaking his head in amusement as Jeonghan, grinning, stepped back to rejoin the group after his bold attempt.

It was Dino's turn, and the determined maknae stepped up confidently. "I'll take the razors again," he said, handing PD Na the paper he had chosen. 

PD Na glanced at the paper, then looked up with a sly smile. "It's Proverb Relay."

Instantly, the members reacted. “He’s out,” S.Coups said, shaking his head with a knowing smile. 

“Aigo, I’ll just buy you razors, Dino-ah,” Luna chuckled, amused at Dino’s previous failed attempts. 

“I’m good at it,” Dino told her, his face filled with mock determination.

[No, you're not]

"Ah, really?" Luna asked, her concerned tone causing S.Coups to laugh and point at her for having such little faith in Dino. "Alright"

“Make it funny, Dino,” Mingyu teased, leaning back with a smirk. 

“He’s guaranteed to be out,” Dokyeom chimed in, causing Dino to sigh dramatically.

“I told you. Everyone except for noona makes me negative and hopeless,” Dino said, feigning offense, causing laughter to ripple through the group.

[Proving that it's true]

“In the back, he said ‘One man sows, and walls have ears,’” Wonwoo joked, causing PD Na to clap and laugh at Dino’s famously incorrect previous answers.

“You should at least be funny,” Joshua encouraged, chuckling at Dino’s struggle.

“You’re a funny kid,” Mingyu added, his teasing tone light-hearted.

“If you play seriously, you’ll be funny,” Woozi assured him.

[No one expects him to get it]

“I hope you get it,” Seungkwan said encouragingly, standing behind Dino.

“I will get it,” Dino said firmly, taking a deep breath. He looked determined, ready to prove them all wrong.

“Here we go,” PD Na said, holding up the paper. He paused for dramatic effect before reading the first part of the proverb. “‘Bamboo basket...’”

Without missing a beat, Dino confidently responded, “‘Is a shame.’”

PD Na blinked before declaring, “Wrong!”

The group burst into laughter. Dino clutched his sides, joining the members as they doubled over at his very wrong, but hilarious answer.

“‘It can’t carry water,’” S.Coups said between laughs, finally giving the correct answer.

“It is a shame, though,” Woozi said, still chuckling, as PD Na handed Dino his cup of lemons once again.

[It's also a shame] [Having 9 lemons for the razor]

Dino sighed dramatically as he received the lemons, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his answer. 

It was Seungkwan’s turn next. He approached the table with determined strides, picking up a paper and handing it over to PD Na. “I’ll go for the bulk snack,” he said confidently.

PD Na opened the paper, and a smirk crossed his face as he announced, “Seungkwan, it’s the Common Sense Quiz.”

Seungkwan’s face lit up with joy, his excitement palpable. 

“You think you’re smart, huh?” Mingyu teased from the side.

“You look smart, but you’re not smart,” Dokyeom added with a playful grin.

Joshua joined in, asking innocently, “Does he look smart?”

“Do you have no intention to root for me?” Seungkwan asked, his voice dripping with mock hurt. The room filled with laughter as the members teased him further.

“Wooo! Boo Seungkwan!” Luna cheered softly from the side, breaking the silence. The sweetness of her voice made everyone laugh even harder.

“Thanks, noona,” Seungkwan said, grateful for at least one supporter.

“Seungkwan, let’s start,” PD Na said, pulling everyone back into focus. “Here’s the question: We have names for like-minded people. What do you call people who want to be financially independent so that they can retire soon?”

As PD Na started counting down, Seungkwan’s face scrunched up in thought. “Elf,” Jeonghan whispered mischievously to him.

“Hot,” Joshua murmured under his breath, causing even more distraction.

Seungkwan, getting flustered, shouted, “Get me something hot!” as if it would save him from the pressure. He glanced around in desperation before realizinghe wasn't making any sense.

“Wrong,” PD Na said, shaking his head.

Seungkwan whined, “What’s the answer?”

“It’s fire,” PD Na explained.

"Fire? He's right, then," Luna said, playfully backing up Seungkwan.

"Right! You got it. It’s fire!" S.Coups chimed in, causing the whole group to laugh at the funny coincidence between Seungkwan’s ‘hot’ and the actual answer.

[Fire= hot]

“It is hot trotter,” Wonwoo added, making everyone burst into laughter again as they exclaimed at the revelation.

“Hot!” Seungkwan yelled, turning to PD Na in one last attempt to argue his case, shocking the PD enough that he stood up from his seat.

[Producer Na is shocked]

“We love Korean. Hot!” Seungkwan continued dramatically, trying to convince PD Na with his antics.

“That just gave me goosebumps,” PD Na said, his voice full of amusement.

“Is it hot?” Seungkwan asked, looking to the rest of the members who eagerly backed Seungkwan up. Everyone began chiming in at once, urging PD Na to accept Seungkwan’s creative answer.

[Will it count as an answer?] [In times like this, all 14 people team up]

“But ‘fire’ here means like firing someone,” PD Na tried to explain, still bewildered by how the situation had spiraled into chaos.

“It’s the same spelling,” Mingyu pointed out, looking to Luna for confirmation who nodded.

Finally, PD Na gave in with a laugh. “You got it,” he said, waving his hand.

[Approved] [He won the bulk snack]

Seungkwan let out an excited shout of victory, rushing to grab the massive bags of bulk snacks. He held them up triumphantly, his face lit up with satisfaction. “Thank you. This will go perfectly with alcohol,” Seungkwan said, clutching his prize with pride.

[Jeonghan is the last customer of the day]

As Jeonghan stepped forward for his final turn, the last customer left to close out the segment, he carefully picked a paper and handed it over to PD Na with a smirk, fully aware that this was his last chance to win something for himself. The atmosphere was light, with the members watching in anticipation of what trick or witty response Jeonghan might pull.

PD Na opened the folded slip of paper, scanned it briefly, and then raised his voice with a hint of amusement, “It’s a dud.”

[Neat finish]

The members burst into laughter, clapping in delight at the anticlimactic ending, while Jeonghan raised his hands in mock celebration, chuckling along with them. “Of course, it started and ended with a dud,” Luna quipped, smiling warmly at Jeonghan’s playful shrug. 

['Super' Store ends]

The segment ended with applause from everyone, and the group clapped, bowing to the staff and offering their thanks for the fun experience. They gathered their prizes, preparing to head back to the green room for a well-deserved break before the next segment began. 

[The customers seem happy]

As they moved around, PD Na approached Jeonghan with a small, familiar item in hand— a baseball that had been one of the prizes. "This is for you," PD Na said, handing over the ball as Jeonghan smiled, tucking it under his arm.

[It may be closed, but there are prizes for people who were funny]

Around them, the members had started spreading out— some still lingering in the open field, tearing into Seungkwan’s bulk snack bags and laughing, while others drifted toward the break area. 

[It’s closed. Please leave.]

[Post-credits scene]

[Here's what happened during the break]

Jeonghan and Luna were the first to arrive in the green room, their footsteps quiet as they entered the familiar space. The air was cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the field outside.

[Jeonghan and Luna are the first people here to take a rest]

Without saying a word, Jeonghan lowered himself to the floor and sat with his legs out elongated in front of him, his back resting against the wall. Luna, without hesitation, settled down beside him, placing her head on his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Both pulled out their phones, enjoying the peaceful silence that enveloped them. The room, for a moment, was theirs alone.

[Low battery mode]

“You two got here so fast,” Wonwoo’s voice broke the quiet as he strolled in a few minutes later, raising an eyebrow at their relaxed posture. Luna smiled up from Jeonghan’s lap, but neither moved, the easy comfort between them tangible.

Slowly, the rest of the members began trickling in. Mingyu, entering with his usual boundless energy, spotted Luna’s legs stretched out comfortably on the floor. Without warning, he scooped up her legs in one fluid motion, sat down beside her, and gently placed her legs back down on his lap. Luna chuckled but didn’t resist, knowing that this was typical of Mingyu.

“Why is there chroma key?” Mingyu asked, glancing around at the green walls that framed the room.

“I guess we’re doing something here later,” Dokyeom chimed in, scanning the room with a curious look.

“There are cameras everywhere,” S.Coups observed, noticing the subtle placements of hidden cameras tucked into various corners.

“You’re right,” Wonwoo said with a nod. “The unseen hide-and-seek. It’s gotta be something like that.”

[This is just Producer Na's habit]

Luna closed her phone and grinned. “Doesn’t this remind you guys of something?” The members glanced at her, waiting for the punchline. Her grin widened. “Melona Prison.”

The room erupted into laughter. The memory of their trainee days hit everyone at once— Melona Prison, the room where they spent countless hours training, named for the bright green walls and the never-ending surveillance cameras. It was their prison, their home, and the source of both fond and difficult memories.

“Ah, it really does feel like that place,” Mingyu agreed, chuckling as he absentmindedly ran his fingers on Luna’s legs.

Seungkwan, ever the playful one, suddenly tossed a blanket over Jeonghan, Luna, and Mingyu, covering them in a soft cocoon.

“Seungkwan, why are you suddenly being so nice and got us a blanket?” Jeonghan asked, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

S.Coups, ever the leader with a teasing smile, cut in, “It’s because there are cameras.”

Seungkwan huffed. “What are you talking about? I’m always nice.”

The members settled into casual conversation, the easy flow of banter filling the room. Jeonghan, leaning back lazily, turned to the group and mused, “Not eating is the best way to prevent aging.”

“Really?” Dokyeom asked, his tone genuinely curious.

Jeonghan nodded sagely. “Yes.”

Luna looked up at him from his lap, her brow furrowing. “What nonsense is that?” she asked, half-joking, but her concern for him was clear in her voice.

With a soft sigh, Luna sat up and leaned her back against the wall, positioning herself between Jeonghan and Mingyu. The blanket remained draped over her, warm and cozy, as two pairs of hands— Jeonghan’s and Mingyu’s— rested lightly on her thigh, their touch gentle and absentminded.

[When they're talking about detoxing, the snack arrives]

A staff member entered, placing a bowl of snacks on the table next to them. Hoshi eyed the bowl, perking up. “Snack?”

Jeonghan, however, shook his head and gestured toward the snacks. “That’s all toxic.”

Luna shot him a sharp glare, not liking how casually he was talking about not eating. Her silent disapproval was palpable, and Jeonghan, noticing her expression, immediately leaned over, pressing his face against her shoulder in a small gesture of apology. He placed a quick, soft kiss on her shoulder as if that would make her relent. 

Just then, another staff member entered the room, balancing a tray of iced Americanos. As she moved toward the table, her grip faltered, and the tray slipped. The cups tumbled over, and coffee spilled across the floor, eliciting gasps of shock from the members. They all stood up in an instant, rushing over to help her.

“Are you okay?” Luna asked, concern etched on her face as she crouched down to assist.

Jeonghan, however, had other thoughts. “Is this a prank?” he asked, his eyes scanning the room suspiciously.

“Ya!” Luna scolded him, elbowing him lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you hurt?” she asked again, her attention back on the staff member.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan finally asked.

“Is this a test? To see if we’ll help?” Dokyeom chimed in, a curious look on his face.

[They watched too much YouTube]

“Are you okay?” Hoshi asked the staff as he helped clean the floor, throwing away the coffee cups. 

The members all pitched in, cleaning up the mess without a second thought. Dokyeom moved the tray out of the room, shaking his head as he glanced back at Jeonghan, chuckling. “You think this is a prank? You’re unbelievable.”

Wonwoo chuckled softly, finding the whole situation amusing. “We all thought it was a prank right away.”

“It’s because there are cameras in the room,” Luna pointed out, gathering the blankets on the floor.

“Jeonghan, you’re unbelievable,” Hoshi echoed, still chuckling.

“S.Coups keeps cleaning.” Seungkwan pointed out.

“I know. Why are you working so hard?” Dokyeom asked.

S.Coups, ever diligent, kept wiping the floor, working harder than anyone else. “I was the first to get up.” he announced.

[That's what it takes to be the leader of SEVENTEEN]

As the room settled back into calm after the brief commotion, the members exchanged glances and laughs. The day had been chaotic, but this was just a brief pause before the next round of madness. With their energy recharged, they prepared for whatever the next segment had in store.

[This is what SEVENTEEN does on their break]

[To be continued in Clip 2-2]

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[howtofightwrite]

I'm writing a scene where character A gets ambushed by an assassin. A gets injured and starts bleeding out. B swoops in to save them in the nick of time, but A starts fading in and out of consciousness. B transports A using a horse-drawn carriage (setting is 1890's London, so no cars) to a safe place for medical attention. Would the carriage be safe enough for transportation or make things worse? Also, any ideas where the wound could plausibly be located on A? (Stab/cut, no guns.)

Okay, so this is a good news/bad news situation.

The good news is that blood loss is really easy to understand. If someone pokes a hole in you, and you start leaking, you'll generally keep leaking at a pretty consistent rate until you manage to stop the leak, or until you start getting additional holes poked in you.

Now, joking aside, moving around, and staying active can accelerate bleed out. Especially if you're engaging in activity that keeps your heart rate up. For example: Running, or fighting. But, normally, you're going to keep losing blood at a fairly consistent rate. (Now, it's worth noting, as you lose blood, your body will actually increase your heart rate to keep oxygen going to your brain. This means that the rate of loss isn't completely consistent. You'll also start hyperventilating.)

The fun part about blood loss is it can actually turn into a math problem. If you know the volume lost per interval, you can calculate roughly how long it will take to die. Just take 2,000, then divide that by the blood lost in milliliters per interval (so, for example, minutes), and then you will know how many minutes your character has before they bleed to death. (Technically you can go over that two liters lost a little bit. (In sloppy napkin math, this means that you'll slightly overestimate how long the character will last.)

Here's the problem.

Hypovolemic shock has four recognized stages. These stages are bracketed by how much blood you've lost. Stage one is up to 15%, Stage two is 15-30%, Stage 3 is 30-40%, and Stage 4 is 40% or more. You might know that the human body has roughly five liters of blood in it, and if you were paying attention you'll notice that two liters is 40% of five liters.

As a quick aside, Stage 1's only symptom is that you'll be a little paler than usual. Otherwise you're basically fine (even if you don't feel particularly great.) To put this in context, you can (almost) lose a liquor bottle's worth of blood without serious side effects.

Once you hit stage 2 and 3, you'll see some mental issues. Anxiety and restlessness at Stage 2, confusion and impaired reasoning at stage 3.

Loss of consciousness (and comas) are symptoms of stage 4 blood loss.

This is the bad news. If you are losing consciousness from loss of blood, you have already lost so much blood that your body (and possibly your brain) are already dying. Humans can lose a frightening amount of blood before it incapacitates them. And, that fun little math problem earlier, the time to death that you're calculating, is also the time to loss of consciousness, because there's a tiny margin between, you bled to the point that you're drifting in and out of consciousness, and, you have bled to death.

There's still some hope here, but it's not great. First aid for hypovolemic shock is to stop the bleeding. It kinda makes sense, because if you don't, they'll bleed to death and after that, it won't really matter. That means, if you're swooping in to the rescue, the first thing you need to do is stop the bleeding, as best you can. When you're already looking at someone in stage 3 or 4, you're not going to stop it in the field, and the best you can do is buy time. But that is a critical step.

This leads to a really important question. How long did it take your character to lose two liters of blood?

Because, if they lost that much blood duringthe fight (which is, actually possible with some arterial hits), there is no medical science that would keep them alive long enough to get them to a surgeon. Not in 1890, and even in 2024 it'd be touch and go with modern emergency trauma packs.

This is a mortal wound.

Now, if you slow it down, and they're bleeding out over the course of the ride, that's entirely feasible. You'll probably want to read up on the exact stages of hypovolemic shock, keep in mind that the stages do transition from one into the next. And, keep in mind that, “slipping in and out of consciousness,” is basically the end. At that point they're about to die. Immediate surgical attention could still save their life, but they need a hospital. This is beyond the scope of what a back alley clinic could reasonably deal with.

I know I didn't address it earlier, but, “where,” could be pretty much wherever. So long as it didn't sever an artery, because at that point they would be dead. Arterial nicks could result in serious bleeding over time. Really, any serious, persistent blood loss that refuses to clot could create a situation like this. Deep tissue penetration, particularly when it damages internal organs, can be pretty nasty, and surprisingly hard to stop a bleed. If someone is hemorrhaging internally, that's going to require surgical attention to keep them alive, and any effort to stop the bleed will really be wasted effort (because they'll continue bleeding into the chest cavity), though, unless your characters have a pretty solid grasp of anatomy, they're unlikely to know that.

The real issue here, from a practical application, is just the, “swooping in at the last minute.” If you're really coming in at the last minute, you've got a minute to make peace with their death, and move on. If you get there sooner, you have more of a scene. You have more options to spool out the drama, and subvert expectations.

Consider, alternately: Your character comes in to disrupt the assassin, and the pair make their escape. While escaping, the character who's been injured discovers they're bleeding. Leading their rescuer to realize that the situation is much worse than they initially thought, and having to change route to a hospital, while the injured character starts to become less coherent.

In this alternative, you can carefully track how quickly the character is bleeding out, so that they're getting into the hospital right around the time it's starting to become touch and go. With a real possibility that they'll die, either before or during surgery. (Also, with added stress that now your character needs to keep them safe in a public space, while that assassin is still on the loose, and they can't move the injured character to someplace more secure.)

So, you've got options, and now you've got a math problem you can play with to figure out how quickly your characters will expire after you poke new holes in them.

-Starke

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[salty-tang]

favours owed (three-shot pt2)

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Congresswoman!Reader (mostly canon compliant)

Summary: Congressman Bucky Barnes does not like owing favours, least of all to you.

congressman bucky x congresswoman reader (set just before, and crosses into the beginning of, Thunderbolts*)

Warnings/tags: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, Porn With Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Massage, Begging, Cunnilingus, Semi-Public Sex, Political Drama, No established relationship, Enthusiastic Consent, Female Orgasm bucky barnes may not know how to politic but he does know how to eat a lady out, Congressman Bucky Barnes, Congresswoman Reader, mild thunderbolts* (the movie) spoilers

A/N: If you wish to skip the graphic sex scene (or jump straight to it, no judging) it's bracketed by these ~*~ text breakers

favours owed masterpost || AO3 || congressman bucky masterpost

9 months later, The Battle of New York First Responders’ Fundraiser Ball

This time you get the chance to sneak up on Bucky Barnes as he stands in front of the large ‘A’ sign that used to adorn the Avengers Tower. It’s being exhibited to be auctioned off later in the evening. To be frank, there’s no way you could ever truly sneak up on the man, but you like to think you caught him a little off-guard with your arrival, especially with the sharp way he looks at you as you clear your throat.

It is not a common occurrence, but Bucky was lost in his thoughts – something that only really ever happens when he’s standing in front of ghosts.

“That was Mel, wasn’t it?” you say, offering him both a quiet smile and the other glass of wine in your hands. “I didn’t think I’d find you here otherwise.”

Bucky sighs, hearing the smugness in your tone as he accepts your offering with a tired smile. He digs his free hand deep into the pocket of his dress pants as he turns to regard you and you take the chance to take him in.

He’s in the exact same suit that he wore at the House of Representatives Ball. Though this time, he’s got a bowtie, and his hair is slicked back. A strong 5 o’clock shadow is developing along his jawline and puffy eyebags have formed under his eyes. To your dismay, those crystal blue eyes had lost a little bit of their usual shine.

It was fair to say that the last nine months haven’t been kind to him. It’s been long days and even longer nights of attending committee meetings, drafting bills, and meeting with constituents. Even with this being your second term, you carry the weight just as heavily; the exhaustion settling between the both of you like an unspoken truth.

You certainly don’t look any better yourself, your dark circles are expertly hidden beneath layers of colour correctors and concealers, but the weariness still seeps through. At the very least, you have a different dress this time – a lovely fuchsia pink Tom Ford silk-crepon gown with a high neckline and a tasteful keyhole cutout. The matching sheer cape cascades down your shoulders, swaying gracefully with your every movement.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” Bucky says, brushing past your question about Mel as if it hardly matters. His attention is fixed on you, like your attendance, one of over two hundred, is the most important thing right now.

He scans you with that now-familiar intensity, and you resist the urge to straighten up. You have to give yourself a mental flogging – since when did his approval start meaning something to you?

“I wanted a quiet night in to rot in peace, but Derek – you’ve met him before, my Chief of Staff – insisted I make the rounds to fundraise for the next campaign. Barely just won this one and he’s already thinking about the next.” You grumble instead and Bucky chuckles.

“Tell me about it. Mine has grandiose ideas of Presidency.”

The two of you share a look and break out in low laughter. A Bucky Barnes presidency? That’s comedy at its finest. It’s already bad enough he shares a name with a former president – he’d never hear the end of it.

Besides, you’ve seen the man drowning in paperwork.

Once, late at night in the DC offices, you passed by his suite and caught a glimpse: him at the centre of a war zone of legislative binders and red-lined drafts, sleeves rolled up, jaw clenched, eyes tracking margin notes like they were enemies on a battlefield. You almost said hello, but he looked so thoroughly overwhelmed that you decided it was best not to interrupt a man clearly losing a fight with committee memos.

Hard workers have always had your respect. And Bucky Barnes, you have to admit, is one of them.

He’s carved out his place as a political force to be reckoned with, his thoughts sharp and his questions sharper still. It helps, of course, that he is enthusiastically backing all your proposals. Maybe this was his way of paying back the ‘favours’ that he thinks he owes you. Not that you’re keeping score, but if you were, you’re pretty sure you’re still ahead since you haven’t been asking things in return. Not when you helped him push through his staff vetting process. Not when you slipped him that early intelligence on Senator Gary’s leanings, and certainly not when you quietly smoothed over that awkward encounter with the press on his behalf.

It has fostered a subtle closeness, one stitched together by favours and shared battles, with a warmth beneath the surface that neither of you quite acknowledge but both feel.

Since the last Ball, you’ve watched quietly from the sidelines as he and Senator Gary inch closer to impeaching Valentina de Fontaine – cheering him on in silence, applauding every hard-won victory from a safe distance. You’ve already played all your cards. You’re not eager to stick your neck out again just to impress Bucky Barnes – or for something as benign as affection.

You are way too busy with your own matters. And frankly, you value your life.

Still, standing beside him again now, close enough to share a pocket of quiet in the middle of a crowded room – you realise just how much you’ve missed him.

He’s always been your political ally first. A friend, occasionally. A headache, reliably.

But lately, lately you’ve been feeling the weight of how much you’ve given. And how deeply – quietly – you’ve started to hope that maybe, one day, he might give something back.

“Gods, the things I’d do to catch a break,” you sigh with feeling, rolling your shoulders and allowing yourself to slouch just a little as the last nine months wash over you. Bucky hums in agreement, a mono-syllabic sound that conveys more empathy than most people manage with full speeches.

“At least I’m not wearing those,” he says, nodding down to the pair of towering heels that you have on tonight. They are slowly murdering your feet in exchange for the privilege of looking down on most of the other men here. With Bucky, you can just barely meet him eye to eye.

“They make my calves look great,” you mutter, shifting your weight from one burning foot to the other. “But I’m throwing them out the window the second I get home.”

“You’ll traumatize someone on the sidewalk,” Bucky says drily.

“I mean, at worst it’s a misdemeanour,” you add with mock seriousness. “Campaign finance violations are still worse.”

Bucky hums, considering. “Could probably spin it as performance art. Civic awareness.”

You look at him. “You gonna bail me out?”

He tilts his glass. “I’ll vote to censure you. Publicly condemn your actions. Privately cover the legal fees.”

You snort. “God, you are getting good at this.”

There’s a pause – long enough to settle between you, easy but charged.

Then, there’s a subtle flicker of his eyes beyond your shoulder, and his body tenses just slightly.

You catch it instantly, though you resist the urge to glance behind you.

“What?” you ask, tilting your head. “Valentina?”

“No – it’s nothing,” he says, but there is something weighty in his expression that suggests that there is more going on than he lets on.

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” you prod.

He flashes you a crooked grin. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Got me forgettin’ things I shouldn’t.”

You chuckle softly, but before you can press him any further, he clears his throat and takes a long sip of wine. The moment recedes, swallowed back into the hum of the room. The clinking of glasses and the low tide of conversation pull the both of you back into the present.

“Just another hour more of cocktails, then the auction,” you sigh. “I’m doing my best, but I’m not sure I’ll make it through the night.”

Your feet are on fire. Every step feels like a walk across hot needles, and the leather has been sawing into your pinkie toe in a way that promises to blister mercilessly. You can’t wait for the auction to start, just so you have the excuse to sit down.

“I should let you go do the rounds,” you say, turning half-heartedly toward the crowd again. “And I’m going to find a seat before my toes give out. No one’s going to sponsor me if I have no toes.”

Bucky chuckles, but his voice is laced with genuine concern when he says, “there are no seats in this hall.”

“You’re kidding,” you whine as frustration bubbles up. You’re half a breath from arguing the point – because you, stubborn politician that you are, have to at least get a word in – until you remember who you’re dealing with. Of course, Bucky’s already swept the hall. Probably mapped ingress points, escape routes, and yes, even chair availability.

“Sorry,” he says, although he doesn’t have anything to apologise for. “If you’re not particular,” he continues, hesitating for just a beat too long, “I do know a spot where you could put your feet up for a bit. It’s quieter. Private.”

He hesitates. Then, under his breath, almost like he doesn’t mean for you to hear it, he says, “least I can do. After everything.”

You pretend that you did not hear him when you arch a brow. “Bucky Barnes, since when do you ‘know a spot’?” you can’t help but tease.

A faint smirk tugs at his lips. “Been hanging around the new interns too much, they’ve made it their mission to modernize my vocabulary or die trying.”

“Well then,” you say, stepping in closer, “lead the way, Congressman.”

⁕⁕⁕

The ‘spot’ that Bucky spoke of didn’t look very far away from the ‘A’ sign that the both of you were standing in front of. But the throng of attendees all clamouring for both of your attentions made the journey painstakingly slow. It would have been even slower if Bucky wasn’t wearing his signature surly expression – the one that works wonders in parting a crowd.

Eventually, you make it through and slip down a discreet side corridor to ride a service service elevator up just two floors. The elevator doors open to a deserted floor, dimly lit by a few soft lighting fixtures that feel like they’re left perpetually on. The hum and chatter of the museum floor fades out behind the both of you.

Bucky walks on with purpose, passing several other doors before opening one to reveal a hospitality suite. Inside, a well-stocked kitchenette and bar island greet you, but what captures your attention is a row of cushioned settees lined neatly up in the middle of the room, all facing a darkened glass window.

There are very many questions that buzz at the tip of your tongue, they are promptly ignored as you make a beeline for the nearest seat, grateful for the refuge.

The moan you let out as your bottom hits soft fabric can only be described as indecent, but right now you’ve thrown all forms of propriety to the wind. You close your eyes briefly as you relish in the feeling of sheer relief as you kick your feet up. You stretch out along the couch, not giving a damn how slovenly you look. You have a feeling that Bucky wouldn’t mind – in fact, you catch the faintest flicker of amusement in his gaze before he turns away to busy himself at the bar.

Speaking of the man, you can’t quite put a finger on what he is doing, but you do hear several cabinet doors flick open and shut in quick succession.

“You’re a life-saver, Barnes,” you speak to the room at large, hoping he hears you. “This one goes on your tab.”

You hear him snort. “If this was all I needed to do, I would have done it a lot earlier.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you say, tone deliberately light and teasing. “You told me once you don’t leave debts unpaid. And If I remember correctly... you still owe me at least one more.”

You’d said it as a joke, but you both know it’s only half a lie. You never cashed in the real favours – not the staff vetting, not the intel on Gary. Never ever asks for anything.

Bucky glances at you, and for the briefest moment, something flickers behind his eyes. He remembers. Of course he does.

“Not really,” he counters after a beat, “you gave me the tip on Gary, I’ll give you that. But the jury’s still out on Mel.”

“She’ll come around, I’ve been buttering her up.”

“Buttering her up,” he echoes flatly. You hear the sounds of a tap running.

“You know how miserable employees are always on LinkedIn looking for their out? I’ve been reposting and commenting on all those ‘social good’ stories so it shows up on her feed. Subliminal messaging and all that.”

Bucky gives you a look – some amusement, mostly exasperation. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You shrug, unbothered. “It’s persistence! Or psychological manipulation. Depends on who’s asking really.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing. The silence between the both of you stretches out just long enough to make you glance after him.

When he returns, he’s holding two folded towels, which he hands to you without ceremony. His fingers lightly graze yours in the exchange – and you force yourself to play it cool.

They’re warm.

Your confusion must show, because he exhales through his nose, patient but just that little bit pointed.

“Heat helps with the soreness,” he says, voice low. “If you wrap your calves now, they won’t cramp up later. Trust me, I’ve had to learn the hard way.”

He shifts slightly, voice softer. “You’re the one always offering help – advice, cover, strategy… You never really ask for anything.”

He glances at you. “Maybe I should change that.”

He offers the towels with that quiet insistence that leaves little room for refusal. You take them from him, still warm from being soaked in piping hot water. You eye your heels like they’ve personally offended you (and they have – there’s no cushioning and all those criss-crossing ties are certainly the work of the devil) and you sigh again.

“This is going to be a whole thing,” you mutter under your breath, bracing yourself for the awkward bend.

Before you can even so much as reach in the direction of the first tie, Bucky crouches in front of you with the same quiet efficiency he approaches everything with – purposefully, and without asking for permission.

“Relax.” His voice is low, that familiar mix of dry patience and something steadier underneath. “You’ll pull something if you’re this tense all the time.”

You freeze up. You can’t help it.

You’re not afraid – it’s the opposite. He’s close. Closer than he’s ever been. You’re close enough that you can see all his finest details – the scar near his temple, right over his eyebrow, the texture of his skin, the exact shade of stormy blue his eyes shift to in the low light. It’s the kind of close that makes it hard to think about anything other than him, and how easily he’s settled there right before you.

Your heart threatens to give out when his fingers find the knotted tie that’s keeping your strappy heeled sandals together. There’s no hesitation in his movements, just calm, deliberate care. One heel slides off, then the other.

“You really don’t have to–” you start, but the sentence goes nowhere. Because he’s already wrapping the towels around your calves, snug and warm and startlingly gentle.

“I know,” he says simply. “Let me.”

And that – well, what can you say to that? It does something to you. More than his hands. More than the heat sinking into your muscles. It’s the quiet way he says it, like it’s not a favour or his flirtatious nature, just a fact. Just something he wants to do.

Then his thumbs start to move.

You almost jolt but catch yourself at the last moment. Every part of you is suddenly thrumming with barely restrained energy.

His actions are not rough or showy, just... precise. Like he’s done this before, like he knows what he's doing and exactly what kind of pressure to apply to make you exhale through your nose and try not to melt into the damn couch.

“This okay?” he asks, glancing up. His hands haven’t stopped moving. You’re not sure if they ever should.

You nod, probably too fast. “Yeah – didn’t know this came with the package.”

His mouth quirks. “Occupational hazard. Fieldwork’s hell on the legs. You learn a few tricks.”

Right. Experience. Of course, he knows exactly where the ache is deepest, and how to press just hard enough to coax it loose. Of course he’s the one doing this, hands firm and warm and devastatingly unhurried as if he is mapping the contours of your body, committing it to memory.

Your eyes flutter shut for half a second before you force them open again. He’s still there, still focused, still close. And for the life of you, you can’t remember what the hell your next move is supposed to be.

Because if this is him not getting ahead of himself, you’re not sure what you’ll do when he does.

⁕⁕⁕

Bucky Barnes knows he’s going to hell.

A lifetime – several lifetimes, really – of bad things done will make sure of that (and he can still hear his therapist’s voice telling him, ‘you can’t blame yourself for what you were forced to do’. But he still does anyway. He always will).

But this, this is the fucking whipped cream and cherry on top of a long, damning list. Because every conscious step he’s taken to lead him to this very moment is dripping in self-indulgence, sin, indecency.

In his defence, his original intentions were pure.

He was watching you from the very moment you walked into the museum, a vision in pink. He watched as you worked the room effortlessly, smiling as you greeted friends and potential donors alike, all with that practiced ease that he’s come to appreciate more and more every time he’s forced to do the same.

He’d also caught the look you shot him while he was talking to Mel – sizing up the angle, calculating your next move. You are always trying to catch him off guard, a little game you like to play, even if it’s ultimately a fool’s mission.

And of course, you are an open book to him – he sees the way you carry your tension in your shoulders, the way your complexion was just beginning to take on a bit of a grey pallor from too many sleepless nights.

If he had any say in the matter, you shouldn’t be here tonight. He would have chided you for it – almost, because he knows that it is an exercise in futility to change your mind when it’s set on something.

So instead, he does what he can do, following behind like quiet backup, ready to step in if you stumble.

The hospitality suite wasn’t much, an old relic from when the museum still hosted private performances. Donated by the Maria Stark Foundation, the space was designed to entertain in elegance, quiet, and comfort.

Not that any of the Avengers were big patrons of the arts, but it was reassuring to know that if Bucky flipped a certain combination of switches, one of the walls would open to reveal a cache of supplies – weapons, medical kits, that sort of thing. It’s one of many others, tucked away in unassuming locations picked precisely to be convenient and discreet.

And they call me the paranoid, over-prepared one, Bucky thinks as he collects clean towels from a linen cabinet and runs them under a stream of blistering hot water.

He turns around – and stops at the sight of you. You’re draped over the settee like some ancient ruin – head thrown back across the backrest of the settee, one arm flung tiredly across your eyes, beautiful gauzy fabric of slipping along the length of your outstretched legs, all silk and sighs and bare skin.

Completely unguarded.

Soft.

You look so soft.

Too soft for someone like him with all his broken and jagged edges.

Still, he can’t help the gentle smile that creeps onto his face as he approaches you. You’d tear him a new one if he ever voiced that thought out loud.

But this is how it begins. The slow erosion. The first breach in the wall.

He doesn’t consider himself a religious man, not anymore (whatever faith he once had was buried somewhere in the rubble of the fourth war), but as he kneels by your side and begins to gently wrap the hot towels around your legs, he fleetingly thinks of worship, of penance.

Of what it means to kneel.

Before you, these hands, once forged and hardened by battle and death and killing, have the chance to do something else – something better, something kinder.

He tells himself that he only came tonight to talk about the housing bill. It should’ve been clean – a quick ask, a downright easy pivot into business matters.

But then he saw you – draped in pink, heels too high, smile stretched just a little too tight. And all that resolve evaporated.

Your exhaustion is bone-deep.

And for reasons he doesn’t want to examine too closely, he decided you needed a break more than he needed your vote.

So he stays quiet.

Finds you a seat.

Your skin is warm and soft under his fingertips, and the way your breathing begins to catch ignites dark pleasure within him. His dick hardens without him noticing, and it strains uncomfortably against the thick fabric of his dress pants.

And the bill’s the last thing on his mind.

Mindlessly, his hands drift upwards, just past your knee, seeking the warm fleshy curve of your inner thighs.

You don’t move, don’t speak. It’s all that you can do to just focus on breathing.

He tells himself that he’s just checking for tension, for swelling. For the heat that might signal something torn or strained. But he knows that’s not why he’s still touching you.

You’re soft here. Pliant.

You give under his hands in a way that makes something deep in his chest clench, a flash of hunger so sudden and sharp it almost hurts like physical pain.

You shouldn't let him do this.

He shouldn't let him do this.

But you do.

And he does.

His metal hand stays anchored at your calf, cool and grounded. But his other continues upward, mapping slow circles into the tender skin above the towel, just shy of indecent.

You sigh. Not in protest. Never in protest.

He bites the inside of his cheek.

You’re tired. You trust him. You always have, maybe more than you should. You don’t know what it’s doing to him for you to allow him to be allowed this close. To touch you like this. To feel like this.

He presses the flat of his palm against your thigh, not squeezing, just holding.

Gods above and below, it feels too good.

And maybe that’s the worst part, that something so gentle, so quiet and reverent, could feel like the most dangerous thing he’s ever done. He really shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be letting him. But neither of you move. The only sound is your breathing – slow, tight, ragged.

And then –

“Shit,” you hiss, jerking slightly as his fingers dig in too hard.

It’s as if a gun has gone off in the room.

He snatches his hand back as if burned, suddenly slapped back into reality. He looks at you with wild abandon, breath catching, muscles tensing,

Really, what the hell is he doing?

This is you. His colleague, his fellow Representative. The woman who will stubbornly die on every small hill, and will lecture the legislative importance of a balance between a purposive and textualist approach to anyone who would listen. The woman who once called him a “misguided libertarian with a saviour complex” in front of three interns and the Vice President.

Now?

Now the exact tenor of your moans is carved into the deepest recess of his memory.

Worse still, the horrible, terrible, sinful truth of this situation is that he wants more. He wants all of it. Your gasps, your sighs, your whimpers, your pleads. He wants to be the reason for every last exquisite sound out of your pretty little mouth. With his hands, with his mouth, with everything he has.

Anything.

He would do anything to keep you going like this.

⁕⁕⁕

“No…” you whine instinctively. Not in protest, but in ache. In regret, maybe, for the moment that he’s just taken away from you.

You sit up quickly, cheeks flushing beet red, eyes wide as you take him in – kneeling, hands stilled, his broad shoulders between your legs. And the situation all comes crashing down on you.

What are you doing?

This is James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, your colleague, your fellow Representative. A war hero (war criminal?), an Avenger, a man who refuses to use the office’s coffee faucet on principle and so will walk four blocks in the middle of a DC winter to the only 24-hour coffee joint in the area just to be caffeinated. And now his (very large, very nice, very capable) hands are creeping up your legs and you are spiralling –

“We should not be doing this,” you manage to croak, and you hate the way that your voice betrays you. You wanted to sound firm, resolute. What comes out is desperate and breathy and pitched barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t flinch or move back.

“Then tell me to stop,” comes the reply. His voice low and so, so dangerous.

He’s still between your knees, still watching you with scorching intensity. He’s still touching you – barely. His thumb moves in slow, cruel circles against your skin, like he knows exactly what it’s doing to you.

Your body betrays you completely. Your thighs are pressed so tight they are trembling with restraint, and you are soaked through with want. Your mouth is so dry that swallowing feels impossible. Your brain is screaming, spiralling, trying to claw back some semblance of rationality.

You can’t breathe.

You don’t want to breathe.

You want his hands to wander higher. You want his fingers to bruise your inner thighs as he splays your legs wide open and make you come with his mouth over and over. Until your voice is hoarse from screaming his name. You want to beg him for more and mean it.

You don’t just want it – you need it unlike anything else you have desired in your life.

You swallow.

Fuck it.

“Don’t stop.” You tell him quietly.

When his eyes snap up to meet yours – hungry, feral, devout – you swear you forget how to think entirely.

~*~

Those two little words are all the permission Bucky needs. His hands still for half a heartbeat, but his eyes are locked on yours, dark and feral. Without a word, he resumes his maddeningly slow ascent.

You can feel the smugness radiating off him as he watches you writhe beneath his touch, the curve of his mouth twitching in satisfaction each time your hips buck or your breath catches. He’s taking his time, deliberately cruel in the way his fingers trace higher and higher, just brushing the edge of where you want him.

The simple truth is this – he wants it too. Maybe even more desperately than you do. There’s an unfamiliar desire coursing through his veins. It’s not just lust, it’s a hunger that makes him burn in a way he has not in decades. It scorches through him like wildfire, burning everything else away except the single-minded need to bury his face between your thighs and lose himself in the way you fall part.

He breathes in the scent of your arousal like it’s oxygen, like it’s salvation. His hands pause just short of the wet heat between your legs, like he’s savouring the moment before the fall. His jaw clenches like he’s trying to keep himself on a leash, but it's a losing battle. It’s one he’s not sure he wants to win anyway.

He wants more. Needs more.

This position won’t do – not for what he plans to do, so without warning, he wraps his hand around your waist, strong and sure, and lifts you with startling ease.

You let out a startled little squeak, and he grins like a devil.

Before you can even protest, he sets you down on the settee properly and drops to his knees like a man in holy prayer. At some point (when, you have no idea – you are barely paying attention) he’s lost the bowtie and the jacket. The discarded articles lie forgotten on the floor, joining your heels. He’s pushing up the white sleeves of his dress shirt up his forearms, slow and deliberate, revealing sinewy muscle and the glint of that metal arm like he’s preparing for work.

Serious, filthy, goddamn reverent work.

If your brain was a little less lust-addled, you would have giggled.

As you are, up to your eyeballs in want and desire, it just makes you ache for him to bury his dick deep inside you.

Without any fanfare, or so much as a by-your-leave, he shifts, hooking one of your legs up and over his shoulder with careless strength, and pressing the other wide open under his hand. You’re so vulnerable right now – every inch of your need is laid bare on display for him. You feel how soaked you are, how your panties cling on like a second skin, and shame crawls up your throat at just how obvious your desperation is.

But he does not mind, doesn’t even dream of looking away. In fact, he likes the way your arousal is as plain as day, soaking through your underwear.

Gentle and deliberate, he presses a kiss onto your knee, the start of a trail of messy, feverish kisses that he drags down your thigh in a crooked, wet path. Then, he slips a hand under your ass, gripping you hard enough for the pain to be pleasurable.

And isn’t this the most exquisite form of torture? He shows no sense of urgency as he nips at unmarked skin, alternating between pressing hot open mouth kisses and sucking bruises into the fleshiest parts of your skin. Your senses are dialled to a hundred, making you painfully aware that he always stops just shy of your dripping, aching cunt.

You’re a proper mess now – babbling, whining, hands clawing at the settee like you’re trying to dig your way out of your own need.

Blood roars in his ears. You’re begging. You’re begging for him. It almost does his head in, the sheer thought that someone would want him so much that they are reduced to this spluttering, trembling, gasping, mess.

His free hand, the metal on, reaches around, fingers pushing aside the hopelessly soaked cotton with ease (they were doing nothing to hide what you are, anyway) to rub at the dark pink folds of your cunt.

Cold vibranium slides over hot, flushed skin.

You choke out a sound – half moan, half cry – the cool sensation of metal coming into contact with your slick wetness is a feeling unlike anything you’ve ever had before. Your mouth waters, the contrast of heat and cold makes your toes curl, your hips buck. You are already fantasising about what those cold, unyielding fingers would feel like inside.

But then – he stops.

“Still with me, darlin’?” He says, gently untangling his hands from you with unbearable care. He can’t bear not touching you, so they come to a rest on your waist. They knead at your side in slow, grounding circles, like he’s trying to tether you down to this earth.

“Put it in – I need – Please, please – ” you hear yourself whine. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore. You just need.

Your own hands that were just gripping the settee paw helplessly at his, trying to pull him closer, push him where you want him.

Anywhere.

Everywhere.

Bucky has the audacity to laugh, a low dark sound that rumbles through his chest and makes your heart clench. “As the lady wishes,” he mumbles against your thigh as he angles himself just so. His fingers hook onto the sides of your panties, and he tugs them off in one swift motion. They’re tossed aside like the rest of your ruined, beautiful evening.

He leans back down, and slowly, as if he were savouring the most exquisite of cuisines, deliberately licks a wet, hot strip from your entrance to your clit. Your taste fills his mouth, hot and salty and utterly addicting. His beard scratches your skin, raw from his earlier ministrations. You are already sore and sensitive from all the bites he had been doling out and this just about sends you over the edge. It hurts in the most perfect, perfect way.

His nose bumps against your clit with every lick, long and deep, and you don’t recognise the person who grinds her hips against his eager mouth. You’re a stranger to your own body, chasing relief like a woman possessed.

Your hands find purchase his hair and you tug at silky locks, but it seems to only spur him on. He groans again, tongue pressing deeper into you.

You are so plush and warm and smooth that he wants to mark you and sink into you so that you never ever leave. You drive him crazy. He wants some part, any part, of himself inside you. The need thrums through him as his right hand slides up to your cunt. Two fingers moisten themselves on your wetness and you moan – loudly, obscenely – as he slowly slides both digits in.

He too, groans as you flutter and clench around his fingers, and he’s barely all the way in yet. He’s wrecked by just how tight, how perfect, how right you feel around him.

His cock is screaming out with desperate desire to replace his hand, but no, today is not about him.

He steadies you with his other hand, fingers splayed reassuringly across your lower tummy as he mutters sweet words of encouragement as you get used to his size. He feels you loosen up around him, and that is his cue to move his fingers in and out of you. Slowly, at first, until he finds that perfect pacing that makes your whimpers louder, needier.

He is almost too much – you feel like you’re going to shatter into a million pieces – but you don’t care, urging him on with every pant and gasp that leaves your mouth. His pace never falters, and he is quick study at what makes you tick. Before long, he settles on a brutal rhythm that has him pushing – harder, faster, deeper – fingers crooking just right as he works on you in messy, practiced strokes.

You think that this is it, that this is what is going to be your undoing, until he bends his head down again, lavishing attention on your cunt with both his mouth and fingers, and you change your mind, because this, this is exactly what is going to break you. His mouth meanders along the planes of your body, unhurried, until he finds what he is looking for.

He sucks at your clit, and you see stars.

There are actual tears in your eyes as both your legs snap around his shoulders in a tight squeeze. You’re not sure if you’re trying to find some measure of respite from this onslaught of pleasure, or if you’re trying to keep him there so that he can keep pleasuring you forever.

Gods, this is – this is – everything. Like the sky cracking open in a thunderstorm. Like the moment a star goes supernova. Like the silence that swells just before a wave breaks, raw and utterly alive.

You are at the edge, head thrown back, spine arching up from the settee. And that is when you notice yourselves faintly reflected in the dark glass in front of you. You see your lips parted, your chest heaving, Bucky’s dark head between your legs as you dig your heels into his back.

You get to see the moment where he pushes you right over – you’re coming, shaking so hard that you cry. And Bucky keeps going.

God, he keeps going. His fingers work you through the orgasm, mouth dragging back slowly, licking up everything you spill for him with biblical greed. He watches you break all around him with an expression that comes very close to holy reverence.

And when it finally becomes too much, too sensitive, you reach down and regretfully push him away with trembling hands. He rises up over you, settling beside you with a low exhale, arms opening wide. He allows you to bury your face in his chest as aftershocks continue to shudder through you.

“My darlin’s so pretty when she comes,” he mumbles into your hair, voice rough, thick with something close to awe. You hear him, hear the second time he calls you ‘darlin’ – and you want to argue, want to laugh, want to tell him that you’re nobody’s darling (maybe, just maybe, you’d let yourself be his).

And if you had any energy left, you would have protested that this was all him – that the thin sheen of sweat on his body is testament to the fact that he has practically done everything to facilitate the most intense orgasm of your life.

Then he asks softly, “you still think I was buttering you up?”

You glance at him sideways, already half-curled against his chest. “Weren’t you?”

He lets out a soft laugh, almost embarrassed. “I was going to ask you to co-sponsor the housing bill.”

You blink. “You never did.”

“Got distracted,” he says. Then, quieter, “you looked tired. Figured you needed to sit more than I needed your vote.”

It’s the kind of thing you didn’t know you’d been waiting nine months to hear.

~*~

Bucky watches you carefully as you straighten yourself up, eyes scanning for any flicker of discomfort or regret. He finds none.

By the grace of waterproof cosmetics, your makeup does not run, and you seem quietly relieved, checking your reflection in the darkened glass, patting your hair back into place. His own shirt is rumpled, but it’s nothing his suit jacket cannot hide.

He watches you potter around the room, face flushing again as you gather your discarded shoes and panties and hand him his jacket and tie. He can still taste you on his tongue, heady and addicting, better than Asgardian mead.

You knew there are going to be consequences for hooking up with Bucky, but you’ve braced for the emotional ones – not the logistical nightmare of getting him back into public-facing shape and sneaking back into the event. You chew your lip, eyeing the state of his hair. His carefully gelled-back hair has been painfully mussed to a point of no return. With an exaggerated huff, you card your hands through the locks, trying to salvage what you can. His fringe disobediently flops into his face, untamed. He still looks nice, but nothing like how he walked into this event. You turn your attention to something you can fix – his bowtie.

He smirks. “And whose fault is that?”

You scowl and tug at the knot of his bowtie, a little harder than strictly necessary. It’s been a while since you did one of those and you are concentrating hard to make sure you get it just right (Bucky doesn’t tell you that he could have tied it himself – how else did he get it on in the first place? He likes you close).

He shrugs it off with a grin that makes him look as young as the interns. “You should worry about yourself,” he mutters, eyes raking down your body. “You look like you rolled down the stairs.”

You look down. Your dress is a roadmap of sin – creased, twisted, hopelessly revealing of exactly where his hands had been.

“And whose fault is that?” you echo, though like him, you are also smiling. “We’ll just have to tell everyone we got into some kind of rough-and-tumble.”

“Oh, sure.” He can’t help but chuckle, deep and unrepentant. “I’m sure the New York Times would love to hear about the kind of rough-and-tumble two of their political darlings got into. In a private hospitality suite. During a charity event. For first responders.”

“Shut up.” You reply, embarrassed. No need to dwell on the depravity. You were there; you have the bruises to prove it.

You both know you have to go back to the fundraiser – face the music, the donors, the polite small talk over flat champagne and canapé trays. But for a moment, you linger. You take a half-step back to admire your handiwork (you know he can tie his own tie, but damn if are going to give up another opportunity to be all up him). Better, much better.

Wordlessly, he raises his left arm. You step into it without hesitation, tucking yourself into his side. You’re still a little unsteady on your feet, but he doesn’t let you falter. He just slips an arm around you, like it’s instinct.

Together, you sweep out of the room–shoulders squared, expressions schooled, veneers sliding into place.

But your eyes meet just before you cross the threshold, and in that glance is everything – the spark of something new, something wild and unspoken.

A promise. A threat. A next time.

Whatever this is – it’s not over.

Not even close.

⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕

A/N: And that's a wrap!

I actually have a third chapter that's their respective team's reactions to all this sneaking around (because that's my favourite thing to read), which will be uploaded in due time, but consider the main story finished and that as a ~post credit scene~

I also have some small out takes/ deleted scenes that I still love, which will be uploaded. It's a bit empty now, but I promise I'll flesh it out and I am always open to chats, saying hi, or even requests <3

See ya'll around!!

<<pt 1 || AO3 || pt3 >>

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Dallas Dating A Curtis!Reader

Buckle up buttercups, this is gonna be fun!

As always, to fit the age bracket, you’re either Soda’s twin, or you were born between Sodapop and Ponyboy

Pick and choose as you see fit, but I’m definitely seeing more opportunity for a Sodapop’s twin sibling-

Anywayyyssssssss

Lemme set the stage a little bit, alright? Cause there’s a bunch of ideas floating around in this brain of mine-

You’ve had a crush on Dal for the longest time and I mean the longest time- ever since he stumbled in with that stupid white blond hair and that stupid New York accent and that stupid little attitude of his- you’d been head over heels

And low and behold, Dallas had been nursing a few feelings for you as well, hiding them a little better than you had been

So of course, y’all flirt and mess around and all the rest of the boys are a little suspicious but you and Dal both deny that there’s anything between the two of you

That changes a few weeks before the Curtises die, you and Dallas go on an official date down to the nightly double (he timed it with your favorite films cause he’s romantic like that) and bada bing bada boom, y’all are dating

But it’s a secret and no one knows but here comes the funeral and you’re holding Dallas’ hand through the whole thing, crying into his shoulder and he’s cradling the back of your head and everyone knows there’s something up

Darry doesn’t like it- not even a little bit- he doesn’t love that you’re dating Dal one smidgeon of a bit

He likes Dal well enough, he’s got to, they’re in the same gang, but like- he knows Dallas well enough too to know that maybe this isn’t the best thing

Dare’s biggest concern is your heart and whether or not Dal’s gonna break it by doing something stupid like fooling around with someone else or getting hauled in for something big and leaving you alone forever

Sodapop’s a little more okay with it? But he’s still a little hesitant, especially when Dally likes to get a little more physical than he needs to

*cough cough* kissing you way past decent under the porch light when he’s dropping you off at home after a date, sliding his hand into your back pocket to keep you close, just generally being Dal and pushing the limits of what is publicly decent *cough cough*

But!

Where the real fun is located is with our dear darling Ponyboy!

It’s canon, I’m pretty sure and I’m pretty confident after reading the book fifty million times, that Ponyboy “doesn’t like” Dally and thinks he’s kinda scary

But at the same time, we all know that boy looks up to Dally too and Dally has a soft spot for him

I’m seeing like- Ponyboy and Johnny and Dallas hanging out, just the three of them, and Dal’s trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, smoking casually as he tries to ask Ponyboy about how you’d like certain things

Dally tries to subtly run almost all his date ideas past Ponyboy before he takes you out because yeah, he really does like you, and sometimes he’s just a little unsure of himself with how much he cares about you

Now. When he gets hauled in, and we know it’s going to happen, let's be honest with ourselves folks, when he gets hauled in, his phone call is going to go to the Curtis house

He’s gonna ask for you and he’s gonna apologize for having to be gone for so long

If I was you? I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d be angry and sad and frustrated because why does he keep making stupid decisions?

But I’m gonna tell you this-

Putting up with stupid decisions and working through tough times like this? It’s gonna be a lot of the relationship, and it’s gonna be pretty prominent in your time with Dally

If that’s not for you? Then maybe, maybe it won’t work out

But that’s alright too! All the more for me :D

[dndaddiespolls]

TAKING POLL REQUESTS

DROP YOURS IN ASKS!

Has anybody else noticed a sort of… Emptiness in the Dungeons & Daddies fandom? Something almost… Missing, as of late?

Say— no infighting? No constant propaganda posts? No way to express your burning opinions?

Huh… Weird.

Welcome to DnDaddiesPolls, a community-run Dungeons & Daddies poll project!

Why? Because it’s fucking fun, goddamnit!

After the shutdown of the beloved @dndadspolls last month, we’ve decided to bring you a new blog to pick up right where they left off.

How does this work?

Great question!

On your side, it’s simple: I’ll post asking for submissions to enter into the tournament. Then, you’ll be given a period of 72 hours to send in your requests via my ask box (or however long it takes to fill out how many applications I need). From there, I’ll set those in a bracket, and then the polling begins! Each round will be 24 hours long.

I’m not sure how close together these polls will be, yet… But always send in your NEW POLL IDEAS to my inbox!

Makes sense? Great! My ask box is open, and the current poll will always be the top of this post. Be free and have fun!

hi guys!!! this blog is ran by @bowiezoid. this is also my first time running something like this so please be nice to me.

my name is bowie and i use he/her pronouns. i made this blog because i was so so so deeply saddened by the dndadspolls blog ending and i missed the feeling of the fandom always being in flames a little bit, and i just wanna see where it can go

thank you guys o7! have fun!!!

[sydsaint]

The only relevant member of The Bloodline. Change my mind. <3

Summary: After getting stuck with Solo in a small mix-match challenge tournament on Raw and Smackdown, the reader realizes that she's developed feelings for him. The only problem? Reader is Cody's younger sister, and Cody is hell-bent on finishing his story.

It's the finals of the Raw vs Smackdown mix-match challenge. Two months ago, you got paired up with Solo Sikoa for one of the Smackdown pairings. Together the two of you have managed to run through the entire Smackdown side of the bracket. Now it all comes down to this. You and Solo vs Raw's bracket winners, Becky Lynch and Seth Rollins.

"You ready for this, Solo?" You ask Sikoa while the two of you are backstage waiting for your cue.

"We've already beaten everyone else, right?" Solo nods. "How hard can one more win be?"

You smile at his confidence and finish your stretching while you still can. Two months ago you would have laughed in the face of anyone that told you that you'd be friends and partners with anyone in the Bloodline. But here you are.

You and Solo started off a bit rocky. The man's cousin having a vendetta against your brother wasn't exactly the best basis for a new partnership. But the two of you managed to put your differences aside and work together to defeat the Smackdown bracket.

"Right. One more win." You repeat Solo's earlier statement, your gaze fixed on the monitor displaying the ring. "How hard can it be, right?" You assure yourself.

One of the backstage crew signals that it's time for your match so you pull the custom team shirt that the company made for yourself and Solo over your head. Solo's music hits first and he rolls his shoulders to loosen up before stepping through the curtain. Your music plays a few seconds later and you follow him out to the ramp.

You do a quick and clean handstand flip out on the ramp and come to a stop right at Solo's side. The two of you share a look and head down to the ring where Becky and Seth are already waiting.

"You want to start?" You ask Solo as the two of you take your place in your corner. "I can keep an eye on Becky if you want to try and wear down Rollins." You suggest.

"Yeah, alright." Solo nods and climbs up onto the apron. He offers you his hand and hauls you up as well.

You grab ahold of the tag rope and the bell rings. Solo and Seth lurch at one-another while you and Becky mean-mug one another from opposite sides of the ring. You watch the men duke it out and trade blows for a while before Seth retreats and tags in his wife.

Solo begrudgingly walks over to your corner and tags you in per the rules of mixed tag matches. "Go kick her ass, Goldie." Solo's hand collides with yours and you crack a small smile at his use of your nickname.

You step into the ring and Becky is on you in an instant. The two of you trade some heavy shots before you head to the ropes to gain some leverage. Your move set is more high-caliber, flyer moves, so it can take some time to set things up.

You bounce off the ring ropes and hit Becky for a clothesline that knocks her to the mat. You then switch to the other side of the ring and jump to use the ropes for a moonsalt. You manage to hit Becky head-on and go for a pin.

"Damnit!" You curse the air when Becky kicks out of your pin at a two-count.

Becky scrambles to her feet and kicks you in the sternum as she gets up. The blow propels you back a couple of feet and knocks the wind out of you. Out of breath, you scoot back and tag Solo back into the match before rolling to the floor to recoup.

Solo and Seth go back to hitting one another with slugging moves while you and Becky are both on the floor in your respective corners. You manage to get your breath and stamina back and climb back onto the ring apron. Solo and Seth are still busy duking it out so you decide to try and run some interference.

"Becky!" You climb back down to the floor and come around to Becky's corner.

Becky whips her head around toward you and the two of you rush each other. You hop onto the steel steps as you come around the corner and propel yourself toward Becky. You raise your arm and hit Becky with a flying forearm that grounds you both.

Now on the floor, you and Becky go buck-wild and start trading some nasty blows. You get a few hits in before Becky manages to get you hard in the nose with a graze of her elbow. You hear a crunch noise as she hits you and feel liquid start gushing from your nostrils soon after.

"Shit!" You gasp and reach for your face as Becky rolls off of you.

You sit up and touch your nose, instantly feeling warm liquid cover your fingertips. You pull your hand back and sure enough, blood is thickly smeared all over your fingers.

One of the officials sitting in the time-keepers area rushes to your side when he spots the blood and Becky backs off of you.

"Are you alright?" The referee kneels down at your side.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." You assure him and get to your feet.

You wipe the blood oozing from your nose with your forearm and shake your head to readjust yourself. "Can you continue?" The official asks you and you nod.

The commotion outside the ring catches Solo's attention and he moves over to the side of the ring to get a look at what's going down. "YN?" He calls out to you with concern when he spots the blood smeared all over your face.

Distracted by you on the floor, Solo doesn't have time to react to Seth's next attack. Seth kicks Solo's knee in and hits a stomp before rolls Solo up for the pin. You jump forward and try to break the pin in the ring, but Becky grabs your arm and stops you.

The bell rings signaling that the match is over and it dawns on you that you and Solo have lost the match.

"Shit. Are you kidding me?!" You turn and shove Becky off of you.

Becky laughs, uttering a quick, "Better luck next time, lass." As she climbs into the ring.

Solo rolls out of the ring and you come around to meet him. "Crap. I'm sorry, Solo." You apologize. "I should have been quicker getting into the ring to stop the pin." You huff in frustration.

"Is your nose alright?" Is the first question out of Solo's mouth as you come up on him.

"Yeah, yeah." You nod. "Becky got me with a pretty gnarly elbow." You explain. "It's not bleeding anymore, is it?" You go to touch your nose again.

Solo steps toward you and sets a hand on your cheek to tilt your head upwards. "No, it's stopped now." He pulls his hand back after a moment. "Feeling lightheaded at all?"

"Now that you mention it." You joke and rub the back of your head. "I'm kidding! Just kidding!" You laugh when Solo's face flashes with concern.

The two of you head backstage while Seth and Becky are presented with their shiny new trophy. You both trudge to the backstage waiting area where a couple of the medical staff are waiting to look at you. They usher you into the trainers room to look you over and Solo follows.

After you've been looked at and cleared of any serious injuries you and Solo take a moment to catch your breath and reflect.

"Well, this was one hell of a run!" You muse to yourself with a small smile.

"Yeah, it was." Solo agrees with a hint of a smile. "So, I guess this is it, then?" He turns and holds his hand out for a handshake.

You glance down at Solo's hand, an odd bittersweet feeling washing over you. "I guess so." You nod and shake his hand.

An awkward tension fills the air and your gaze meet's Solo's, your hands still clasped together. Then, the door to the trainers room bursts open, your brother coming through it like a man on a mission.

"YN!?" Cody frantically scans the room before landing on you and Solo. "Your nose! Are you alright?" He rushes to your side.

You pull your hand back from Solo's quickly as Cody rushes to you. He clasps his hands on your shoulders and starts inspecting you feverously.

"I'm okay, Cody." You assure your brother. "Really. So you can back up a little, please." You push his chest and get him to back up a bit.

"Right." Cody nods and takes a step back. "It's really him I should be talking to." He turns to Solo with a sour expression. "Some partner you are, Sikoa! Letting my sister get her face busted up like that."

You scoff and grab your brother by the shoulder. "Knock it off, Cody!" You scold him. "It wasn't Solo's fault and you know it!"

"Whatever." Cody sneers. "This was the finals. Which means you and my sister are done, Sikoa. Got it? She doesn't have to tolerate you anymore." He shoots Solo an accusatory glance.

"Alright!" You grab your brothers shirt and yank him back toward you. "That's enough! Out! I'll be there in a minute!" You shove him toward the door.

Cody mumbles to himself but steps out into the hall. You wait until he shuts the door before turning back to Solo. "Sorry about him. He can be...well, a lot." You sigh.

"It's alright." Solo chuckles.

"Hey!" You perk up at the unfamiliar sound. "I knew it! I told you when we started this tournament that I'd get you to laugh at least once!" You remind him with a wide grin.

Solo holds back another chuckle and nods. "You got me." He admits defeat. "Congratulations, YN."

"You take care of yourself, mister broody enforcer." You reply and step forward with your arms out for a hug.

"Yeah, you too." Solo agrees and surprisingly lets you hug him. "Take care, Goldie. I'll be seeing you around on Smackdown." He adds.

Your hug is one of lose lingering ones you see in movies all the time. But it does eventually come to an end. You give Solo once last soft smile before exiting the room to meet up with your drama-queen of a brother.

Solo watches you disappear behind the door with a bitter-sweet smile on his face. It's over. Now you go back to the natural order of things. A Rhodes and a Bloodline member. Natural-born enemies.

That's how it has to be.

That's all it will ever be.

Right?

[missbeautyandherbeast]

She's a Little Runaway

Raph x Reader (just squint)

Summary: Your life goes to hell in a handbasket so you call your cousin in New York and ask for a place to lay low for a bit. And she says yes... but her new friends might be more than you can handle.

A/n: *emerges from the void* hi guys

Aggravated, I pulled up my phone. The call went through. 

“Hey, Y/n, everything okay?” April sounded concerned. 

“Yeah,” My voice was clipped. I took a breath. “No,” my confession was defeated. “Can I come visit? For a bit?” 

“Is everything okay?” She asked again. 

“No,” I answered wistfully. “I need a break…a vacay—you still in New York?” 

“Yeah,” I heard her smile. “Book a flight, I’ll be there,” 

“You’re a godsend cuz,” 

“Yeah yeah, see you soon cuz,”

The flight into JFK was six hours with a layover in Atlanta but soon I was there. Away from the hell the south had created for me. April found me outside amongst the other cars waiting for pickup. With a quick hug and throwing my stuff into the trunk we drove off. 

“Whose car?” I asked skeptically, knowing a BMW was in neither of our tax brackets. 

“Casey’s parents. They let me borrow it.” April explained. 

“That’s nice of them,” I said pointedly. April rolled her eyes. 

“Shut up,” she laughed. 

With the traffic it was half an hour to Aprils apartment. My eyes lingered on the city skyscrapers. They still had me in awe. Part of me believed New York didn’t exist. It was a fictional place like Asgard, Wakanda, or Mordor. But here it was. 

Here I was. 

The sun set on the warm summer day around 9pm—something so odd for me but brought a smile to my face. It was the same country but an entirely different world. 

April left to drop the car back off at Casey’s parents and it gave me a couple of hours to myself which was so needed. Her little apartment had a guest room/office where a daybed was made up for me. I sat on the bed and took a deep breath. 

I was safe. 

I was far away. 

I was free. 

I blocked a few numbers just to prove it to myself. 

I wandered to the living room and found a home on the window seat, watching the city light up the nigh. 

April came back into the apartment a pizza in her hands and a smile on her face. 

“Guess who brought the best pizza in the city?” She teased. 

Laughing at her antics and a bit skeptic, I stood, going over. 

But there was a loud thud on the fire escape outside her window. I whipped around at the sound and froze. In the cover of darkness were massive shadows that loomed menacingly. 

“Uh, April!?” My voice wavered. “April!” My eyes adjusted to make the outlines of four anthropomorphic turtles. 

“Oh, shit!” April dashed in front of me. “It’s okay, these are my… friends,” 

“Friends?” I rose my eyebrows, staring wide-eyed at the giant turtles standing on her fire escape. “What the hell?” 

She opened the window and gave me a hesitant smile. “Yeah, this is Donnie, Mikey, Leo, and Raph,” Each of them gave a small wave. 

“April, who is this?” Leo, the one with a blue mask, asked. 

“This is Y/n, my cousin. She’s visiting for a few weeks,” 

“Well, welcome to New York chickadee!” Mikey said. “You gotta try the pizza.” 

I just stared still, trying to input the information to my brain. 

“Y/n?” April came over to me. “Are you okay?” 

“I… uh, yeah,” I gasped out. “I just need a minute to process,” I scrubbed my face taking deep breaths. 

“We mean you no harm,” Donnie said, raising his hands. “We are friends of April’s,”

I nodded. “Sure, sure,” I sat down on her window seat. 

“Maybe we should split,” Leo said. 

“Y/n?” April left the choice to me. 

“I… I just need a minute,” I repeated again. My eyes darted up and met curious green eyes—one of the brothers, the turtles. He was the only one who wasn’t on edge. He didn’t have a care in the world. “Okay,” I took a deep breath. 

“Okay?” April approached me cautiously. 

I nodded and came a small smile, my gaze darting back to green ones. “Are you sure?”

“I’m okay April,” I assured. “I’m an adult. I can handle this,” 

“Okay, because most people freak out,” 

“Well I am, but it’s cool,” 

“April maybe it’s better if we go,” Donnie said softly. “Why don’t you watch her up?” 

“I don’t want to ruin your night,” I interjected. “Or plans…” 

“It’s nothing. I was usually hang with them on the roof.” April said. “But you’re here,” 

“Go,” i chuckled. “I can handle down here. Ive got pizza and Netflix.” 

“You’re sure?” April asked again. 

“April,” I nearly snapped. “Just go,” I pushed her shoulder softly. 

“You can join us!” Mikey said happily. 

“Mikey!” The other three scolded. 

“Thanks. I’m just gonna stay here,” I said, forcing steady breaths in and out. Green eyes still held mine. He tilted his head in curiosity. 

“Okay,” April eyed me warily. “If you need anything we’ll be on the roof,” 

“Cool,” I gave a tight smile. 

They all disappeared up the fire escape except for Raph—those green eyes that wouldn’t leave me alone. 

“You okay kid?” He asked, leaning against the window frame. Without the pressure of everyone staring at me, I shrugged. 

“This is beyond weird,” I admitted, rubbing my face. “So… so weird.” 

“Yeah we get that a lot,” a sad smile pulled at his lips. “You really freaking out? Cuz I can go,” 

“This is kinda helping,” my gaze met his. He leaned against the fire escape railing and I moved to the bench next to the window. We were closer now than ever. 

“You’re telling me you’ve never met a mutant before?” He seemed genuinely surprised. I shook my head. 

“No, I… well, where I’m from we don’t exactly go looking for things in the woods at night and I’ve never lived in a city so…” 

“Huh,” 

“Are there a lot of you?” I asked. 

“Well, there’s the four of us brothers, but yeah a lot of mutants have come along now and again. Most of them are actually dangerous so… maybe be careful,” his lips pursed into a tight smile. 

“Noted,” 

“You are safe Y/n, we look after the city, and April. And if you’re her family it means you too,” his voice was sincere. 

“You just met me,” 

“Family is family,” his tone was bolder. “Aprils like a sister to us. I know she won’t let just anyone stay with her. You’re family. We’ll keep you safe.”

“Thanks Red,” 

“It’s Raph,”

“I know,” I smiled, standing. A smile quirked at his lips. “Go on up. I think I’m gonna turn in for the night,” 

“You sure you don’t want to join us? My brothers aren’t that bad,” 

“Not tonight,” I set the boundary. “But maybe soon,” 

“Soon then,” and with one last smile and wave, he was gone. 

I stared out the window for a good solid five minutes trying to rationalize what the hell had just happened. I knew New York was a different world from my own but this was not what I had in mind. 

Mutant turtles. 

Brothers. 

Friends with my cousin?

I might have cursed a little bit. Or a lot. 

Rationalization was an art. 

When I calmed down enough I texted April that I was in fact better and no longer freaking out. I attempted eating a bit of the pizza and I had to admit it was really good—New York style pizza was always the best. My mom (April’s aunt) had raised me on it. 

April came back down an hour later and I was just getting out of the shower. 

“I think I owe you an explanation.” She said. 

“That would be very nice,” I agreed. 

We sat on her couch and she began to talk. The past few years unraveled in her tale. Meeting the brothers—the small family. Fighting the Shredder and the Foot Clan. The other mutants and mutagen lost by the Kraang. The more she spoke the more I realized maybe New York City did belong on that list of magical realms… except it was a bit more real than I’d ever thought. 

“They’re some of my best friends,” She insisted. “They are really cool and nice. Once you get past…”

“The giant turtle part?” I mused with a smile. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I’m so sorry about all of this. I know you came up here for a break and this is definitely not easy to cope with.”

“It’s not,” I admitted. “But it’s better than what I left so…” 

“What the hell did you leave?” April was curious. 

Now it was my turn. My story of the past few years and how it all went up in flames the past six months leaving me lost, confused, and without a home for the first time in my life. April sympathized with me but it was hard. It would always be hard because I had walked through the trail by fire alone and the pain my burned heart experienced could never be described. But, perhaps it was enough to have April on my side. 

“You stay as long as you need,” she said firmly. “And if you need to stay a little longer and we turn that guest room into yours…” she offered. 

“I’ll think about it,” I smiled. “Thank you.”

Moving to New York was not on my radar at all… but maybe it could work out. Maybe it would be good for me. Or maybe it would just be running away and I was a coward. 

Or maybe it was both. 

I tucked those thoughts away. 

April took me around the city the next day. We did every touristy thing either of us could think of and fit into the day.  It was great fun and New York was enchanting. 

That night the brothers were back and I was a bit more—okay, I was less baffled this time. Still freaked out but it was better. I actually made it to the roof to hang out, wrapped up in one of Aprils sweaters at the unseasonal chill. 

The turtles tried to make me feel welcome but my brain was fighting shutting down again so it didn’t go the best. The one I had talked to the first night—Raphael realized this and didn’t give me an onslaught of questions. He just leaned against the same outcrop as me. We existed.

Going to grab another drink I heard an unfamiliar voice behind me. 

“Hey Red,” the voice startled me so I turned and swung, punching the intruder square in the nose. He fell to the ground, shocked. 

“What the hell red!?” 

“Casey!?” April ran over. 

Raphael broke out into laughter and I turned pink offering my hand out. The guy was grumbling and holding his nose letting out a few curses. 

“Sorry?” 

“Casey this is Y/n, Y/n, Casey,” April introduced as I helped him up. “She’s my cousin,”

“Do you just randomly walk up on people or…” I mused. 

“I thought you were April. Damn you can throw one,” he touched his nose gingerly. “Geez,”

“Sorry,” I said again, hiding behind my hands. 

“You’re telling me you can’t handle a punch Jones?” Raph walked up, creating a barrier between me and Casey—I was grateful for it. “I know I’ve hit you harder,” 

“Pfft. Whatever man,” Casey stalked off with little dignity. 

“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Raph said in a low voice. “He’s always pissy,”

“Is there something between him and April?” I asked watching the two of them together and thought back to the kindness his parents showed April. 

“He wishes,” Raphael snorted. “No they’re just friends.” 

I nodded. 

“You okay kid?” He kept asking me that question. I had the same response. A small shrug. 

“I feel bad. What if it had been a kid or something?” 

“I’m sure you’re too smart to deck some kid. An unfamiliar male voice coming from behind in New York?” His eyes met mine with a smirk. “You had the perfect reaction,”

A smile played at my lips and I felt better. “Thanks Red,” I nudged his shoulder. 

“Anytime kid,” his smile turned warm, real. “So I heard April took you around the city,” 

“Oh yeah!” My face lit up. “It was so cool. I—I love New York. I’ve always wanted to come, ever since I was little.”

“And now here you are,” he said. 

“Here I am,” I nodded. “Not what I thought it was gonna be,” my eyes scanned the three other brothers joking with Casey and April. 

“Yeah I bet we were a real curve ball.”

I nodded. “Not bad though. You guys are kinda cool and April just adores y’all.”

He gave me an amused you. “You’re totally still freaked out aren’t you?”

I laughed because he saw right through me. I didn’t admit it out loud but we both knew. 

“So, why’d you run away?” He asked, glancing at me. 

“What—how?” My eyes flashed to his. 

“Takes one to know one,” He smiled. “So?” 

“You a runaway?” 

He shrugged. “April lets me hide out too when I need some space.” 

“That’s nice of her,” I mused. “Guess she’s doin’ the same for me,” 

“So, why’d you run?” He asked again. My expression clouded. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I said truthfully. “I—“

Raphael’s demeanor changed entirely. He wasn’t aloof and nonchalant; he was concerned and calm. “Hey don’t worry about it,” he smiled at me. “Enjoy your quiet then,” There was a loud crash and some yelling among the others—Mikey had spilled an entire two liter of soda and marinara sauce. “Well, as quiet as this can be,” He laughed. 

I offered a small smile and inhaled deeply, letting the ashes of my past be blown away with an exhale.

“Hey,” He called me from my sorrows. “If you ever want an escape and some quiet, no questions asked, you’ve got it,” Raphael said. “Just call. April’s got my number.” 

“No questions asked?” I mused. His lips quirked up as he nodded. “Thanks,” 

“Life is shitty sometimes, and an escape is nice,” 

“Yeah,” I agreed. 

My planned week visit turned into two weeks. Into three. Every time I thought about booking a flight back… I just didn’t. April was ready to give me her guest room, and to be honest I was ready to split the rent and call it. 

But could I do it? Could I leave everything behind because I was a coward? Because I couldn’t go back? Because losing this would hurt so much worse than losing what I had? 

I didn’t know and the thoughts were crippling. A thought came to me. I had gotten his number a week ago. And a promise the second night I was here. 

I picked up my phone and pressed call. 

“Y/n?” Raphael’s voice held worry. 

“I need an escape. No questions asked,” I breathed out. “Please,” 

“I’ll be there in five.” He said. 

I paced the floor, waiting for him to show up. His shadow overtook the window. I opened it. 

“Come on,” He grinned. “You ready?” 

“Where are we going?” I climbed out onto the fire escape. 

“No questions princess,” Raph smirked. 

“That’s not what that means,” I protested as we climbed to the roof. 

“Sure it is,” He grinned. “Come on,” 

________________________

Raphael got your phone call and nearly fell off the couch. When your strained voiced asked for an escape—what he had offered to you all those nights ago—he couldn’t say anything but yes. 

Here you were, on the roof with him, jittery, like you couldn’t sit still. He knew the rule was no questions asked, but he had so many. Instead, he led you through what he did when he needed an escape. He ran. 

“Keep up princess,” He threw over his shoulder. A predatory smile curled onto your lips and you took off after him. 

He kept pace so you could keep up with him but when he soared over an alley way you stopped, staring at him like he was crazy. 

“Raph there’s no way!” You shouted to him from across the way. “I can’t jump that!” 

“Yes you can! Trust yourself,” 

“Raphael,” You almost scolded. “If I die it’s on your hands,” 

“I can live with that,” He chuckled, fueling your fire. Shaking your head defiantly, you paced back before taking off and launching yourself off the roof, toward him. 

Raphael stood on the ledge and caught you, pulling you to safety. 

“Told ya,” He smirked, letting you go. 

You grinned up at him, panting heavily. There was s shine in your eyes and he loved it. You bounced back and forth on the roof in front of him, your hands coming up in a familiar position he knew well. 

“You ready to fight princess?” He mused, pulling his fists up. 

You shifted, settling into a fighting stance. “Bring it Red,” 

He laughed and the two of yo began to spar. He kept on defense, throwing a pulled punch now and again, letting you duck, dodge, and block. You two went back and forth, laughing and boxing—until he landed a hit and froze shocked. 

“Shit!” You laughed, dabbing your nose with the back of your hand. You didn’t stop though, instead you used his panic to deck him back, landing one on his jaw. 

“Time—time,” He called stepping back, not liking the blood dripping from your nose. You both relaxed. “Are you okay?”

“I can take a hit, Raph,” You said, smiling, cleaning the blood, tilting your head back for a minute until it stopped, completely unfazed. “Thought I definitely should have stretched before we started.” As if muscle memory, you began to stretch out your arms and shoulders. “Coulda let me know,” 

“How was I supposed to know you could fight?” He chuckled, trying to not watch you stretch, and failing now and again.

“I don’t very often,” You admitted. “But it’s a great stress reliever,” Raphael did a double take at your words. 

“Yeah—yeah it is,” He fumbled. 

“Normally I stick to working out,” You said finding a wall to stretch your shins on. “But this was fun,” You threw a smile over your shoulder. 

“You’re not scared?” Raph said, leaning against the wall. You shrugged and joined him. 

“I used to box with a linebacker, so, not really. He was a good friend,” Your eyes were lost in a memory. “I think you two’d get along,” 

Raph stared at you—you were oblivious, watching the city before you. Somehow, you showed up in his world, and you were everything he thought you weren’t. You weren’t soft and delicate—you had a sharp edge to you. You were a fighter—to blow off steam—to run and be free. You were like him.

He went and sat on the edge of the roof and you joined him, still panting softly. 

“It’s so big,” you murmured in awe. “I’ve always dreamed of coming here,” 

“I’m glad you came,” Raph smiled down at you. 

“Ya know. Despite all the shit that brought me here—I am too,” you leaned against him, your head on his shoulder. 

Raphael noticed you flexing your hands. They were raw from fighting. He called himself twenty types of stupid—his hands were always wrapped; he should have made sure yours were too before sparing. 

“You okay?” He nodded to your hands. 

“Didn’t break skin,” you assured. “Probably just bruised.”

“Don can fix you up in his lab,” Raphael said. 

“Oh yes,” a smile curled on your lips. “His lab in the completely not evil lair,” 

Raphael laughed. “It’s not that kinda lair—it’s home,” 

“Okay,” you shot him through the heart with your smile. 

“Okay?” He stammered. 

“Yeah,” you got up, stretching. “Why not?” 

As he came to the roof edge, going to cross you paused. 

“I can’t,” you said, stepping back. Raphael frowned and looked at you. You had done it before. “I’m too tired—my senses are off. Adrenaline is gone.” Admitting defeat sounded painful to you. 

“C’mere,”Raphael held his hand out. “I’ll carry you.”

You studied him, and he could see the energy leave your body. You took his hand, not having it in you to fight him. Raphael was grateful. He didn’t want you to purposefully fight him. 

He jumped from rooftop to rooftop with you in his arms, carrying you down to the lair. He set you on your feet and led you to Donnie’s lab. 

“Y/n! Oh my gosh,” Donnie nearly fell out of his chair and you managed a giggle. “Are you okay?” Judging the dried blood and bruised knuckles, Donnie didn’t miss a thing. 

“I’m okay,” your lips quirked up. “Just sparred with Raph, no big,” 

“Raph!” Donnie scolded. “Dude!”

“Oy!” You interjected. “It’s okay—I’m fine. It was…“ your eyes met his. “It was a lot of fun,” 

“Oh god, you’re just as crazy as he is,” Donnie muttered, examining your knuckles. “They’re just bruised, nothing broken. I can get you some advil and some ice,” 

“I’ll take the Advil—skip in the ice,” you said. “Thanks,” you took the meds and looked back at him. “I need a shower… take me home?” The way you asked him Mande Raphael lose his train of thought. He recovered, but not quick enough without your knowing look. 

“Uh. Yeah. Of course,” he fumbled. You said your goodbyes to his brothers and he led you back to the rooftops. You both walked this time. 

______________________

There was a nervous energy in my chest as we walked back to Aprils apartment. It was so easy to be with Raphael but right now it was so hard to form a coherent sentence. 

“You’re a good fighter,” he finally said breaking the silence. I exhaled and managed a smile. 

“Thanks. I… I don’t do it often—only when I’m really stressed.” I worried my lip, my mind wandering back to why I came to New York in the first place. “You’re fun to spar with,” I dared to look at him, begging to be brought back into reality. 

“You don’t think I’m too rough?” 

I shook my head. “You freaked out when you hit me. I think you know how to control your hits,” I chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Or are you telling me you weren’t pulling your punches?” 

“I was,” he assured quickly. “I’d—I’d never—no,” He was very stressed about the idea of actually hurting me. I reached out and placed my hand on his arm in an effort to calm him. 

“I know Red, it’s okay,” 

His eyes met mine and he smiled. Raphael stopped and gestured to the nearest fire escape—I was home. I climbed down back to Aprils apartment and he followed me. 

“Thanks Red. For everything,” he was standing outside the window, so close but so far.  

“Anytime.” He promised. “Just call.” 

“I—yeah,” a smile touched my lips. “I’ll see you later Red,” 

“Later princess,” he saluted then took off into the night. I watched the window for a while before I meandered to take a shower. When I closed my eyes in bed that night I was still flying through the air with him over those rooftops. 

————————————

Raphael headed home, and Leo was waiting for him. Even his snotty brother couldn’t dampen his mood—Raphael was on cloud nine because of you—not only the time he spent with you but also all of the new things he learned about you were valuable. 

“What happened?” Leo asked, rather calmly. “You just took off and you bring her back here after fighting?” 

Raph paused. “I don’t know all of it. But she’s running from something and—I told her any time it was too much, we could escape, no questions asked.” 

“So you two just fought? That’s your idea of an escape?”

Raphael chuckled and shook his head. “It was hers. We were just running rooftops and all of a sudden she’s bouncing on her toes ready to fight—you should have seen her Leo, she’s incredible,” 

“You need to be more careful Raph!” Leo scolded. 

“She can handle herself Leo. And I’m not gonna hurt her. We were sparring—I pulled every punch,” Raph leaned against a wall. “You saw her put Casey on his ass on accident. She’s incredible Leo,” 

Leo was silent a moment but Raph didn’t care. He headed for the dojo—his adrenaline was long from being gone. 

“You like her,” Leo called after him. 

Raphael chuckled to himself, knowing his brother was right. 

.

.

@brightlotusmoon @legendarybeauty @crazywritingbug @ravn-87 @just-a-casual-fangirl-011 @ilikestuffproductions @whygz @coffee-addict @sugarspooks15 @blossom-skies @fantastical-67impala-fangirl @iceprincess2019 @merindagriese @bengewatch @cobramarie @bitemebro522 @muleka-loka @curadopordeus @artemismohr18 @beautiful-pegasus @shanidenise @lovelyyroseee @yourlieberhoe @dolphincommander @molzies-fanfics @msmcsmutt @zombiesnips-blog

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O Hara (Across the Spider-Verse) - Extra 1: Genius.

From that point on, you both had an understanding. 

You carried out your assignments diligently and Miguel was never shy with the praise. You would unintentionally crack some new code or discover an upgrade for his systems that really helped in the long run.

You were consistent, driven and you always volunteered for the more tedious missions even when others were a bit skeptical. He found himself relaxing a bit more.

As hard as it was, in the event that anything ever happened to him, he felt secure knowing that you could step up to fill his shoes. It was probably the most calm he felt in years.

“The anomaly on earth 57 has been subdued. I’ve added in my report. Do you need anything else?”

You were just looking at him expectantly, and Miguel stopped for a moment. He’s been trying to work himself to getting closer to you. Learning more about you.

What were cases like that you handled?

How did they develop the program that you’ve so skillfully added into his set up?

Did you have someone waiting for you back home?

Maybe that was the most glaring one.

“I’m okay. I think we covered all the alerts for now. If there are any more readings you’ll be the first to know.”

A coward’s way out.

“I understand. I’m glad I could help.”

You didn’t say anymore, just turned, marching out of there ready for another task or mystery to solve. Miguel ran a hand through his hair.

“You have to actually talk to her if you want to make progress, boss.” Lyla’s teasing tone did not escape him.

“Don’t make me reprogram you.”

“You wouldn’t do that. You love me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

She made a zipping motion across her lips.

~The Dining Hall~

“I’m telling you, he didn’t yell at me once yesterday.” Peter spoke.

You were in the cafeteria with Peter, Hobby Pavitr and Gwen.

“Maybe he’s on his period.” Hobbie commented.

Gwen and Pavitr bursted out in a fit of laughter and Peter tried to hold his in. You munched on your burger quietly as they went back and forth with possibilities at Miguel’s recent change in mood.

“What do you think (Y/N)?” Gwen asked.

Swallowing, you take a sip of your drink.

“What do I think about Miguel?”

“Yeah, don’t you think he’s a bit of a hardass.” Peter inquires

“I wouldn’t use those exact words. I believe he has a lot on his shoulders. He’s responsible for so many lives. In a sense, he holds himself accountable if anything were to occur. From my perspective he’s an amazing leader. He’s very focused on all his duties. He’s very understanding of my strengths and he doesn’t undermine my intelligence.”

The space went quiet as you continued.

“Although he has a short fuse, I believe it stems from his need to control every situation. He’s worried that if he lowers his guard, then he’ll risk the lives of others. He truly cares about the people under him, even if he doesn’t truly express it often. I hope one day I could be just as amazing as he is. Both physically and intellectually.”

They all just blink, and then a smirk stretches on Hobbie’s lips.

“Navy’s got a crush on the boss.”

“A crush?”

You ask with a tilt of your head.

“You like him. Like how a boy likes a girl.” Patvir says it wistfully, palm on his cheek and Gwen smacks his shoulder with a laugh.

You’re trying to figure out if they’re correct about the assumption. It’s true you do hold a great deal of respect for him.

How could you not?

“Don’t think about it too hard kid.” Peter states.

“You do realize that I’m only a few years younger than you Benjamin.”

“Oooooo! She called you Benjamin, you’re in trouble.” Gwen teases.

Peter persists to apologize and state that the mask is a bit deceiving. You merely smile as they go back and forth commenting how he’s the only one that looks like an old guy in his suit.

The rest of your break is just playful banter.

You spend the better part of the day running through all you can on crushes and how to determine if you have someone that falls into that bracket.

It’s often difficult for you to forget about them even when they aren’t in the room.

You appreciate some aspect of what they do and long to be close, or mirror their values.

It could stem from a deep respect or even admiration.

There’s so much information and you’re a little alarmed at how much it aligns with your views of Miguel.

That afternoon as you’re heading back to work with Miguel, you can’t seem to get it out of your head. The second you step inside, Miguel almost anticipates your arrival.

“I need your help to go through a few of these reports from the last assignment.

“Of course, but first, can I ask you something?”

“Si.”

His eyes are still on the computers, so you aren’t sure if he’s paying attention or not, but you still ask the question.

“Have you ever had a crush on someone?”

He stumbles at the statement, now looking at you.

“Qué..”

“I’ve never truly felt connected to anyone. Not until I joined this society. It’s understandable that I would feel comfortable here. We all share a unique set of skills that are similar in many ways. We’ve all been through different traumas. Yet, out of all the people that I’ve met, both in my universe and yours, the only person I’ve ever really felt connected to is you.”

Miguel is wondering if he’s suffered from a serious blow.

“Is it possible that I might have romantic feelings for you? If so, what am I supposed to do about them? Social norms dictate that we spend time together, find common interests, and plan activities. But all of these are things that I’ve already accomplished with you. How do I get closer? I want to get closer, I want to understand.”

Miguel is quite honestly out of his element. Your straightforward personality is maybe a little too much for him.

“I’m..”

He’s not sure what to say to that.

“Come on big guy, you can do better than that. You’ve been dying for this kind of progress for months.”

Lyla’s sudden appearance and statement are a bit of a shock to you.

“LYLA!”

She’s gone with a laugh just as quickly and his frown deepens.

“For months…You’ve held similar feelings as me for months..”

He hadn’t exactly intended to be outed. Miguel intends to explain, but now you won’t look at him, and you take a step back.

“Did you keep it to yourself because you knew how difficult it would be to have a relationship with someone like me?”

It’s apparent that you’ve completely misunderstood.

“You're wrong.”

You look up.

“I’m not any better than you in this field. What I do, leading this organization, makes sense to me. Relationships don’t.”

His eyes shift and suddenly you feel foolish for just jumping to conclusions.

“It’s easier to stay focused on work, that way no one gets hurt.”

“That’s very lonely. “

He knows. But he’s used to it.

“Would you at least consider giving it a try?”

You look so hopeful and he feels it tug at his heart.

“I-I’ll try to be more normal. I’ve gotten better at physical contact. If we take small steps in no time I’ll be-”

“No. Don’t change anything about yourself.”

Your gaze softens at his words. He takes a step forward. Not close enough to touch, just enough that you can see him, feel him.

“I do want to try, but you shouldn’t have to compromise for anyone. Whatever you’re comfortable with, that’s what we’ll do. I’m not in a rush. “

You can’t believe it. It’s almost like he was put on this earth just for you.

“Are you sure..”

“I’m positive.”

You’re almost tearing up, and he just reaches out a hand, brushing his finger against your cheek. You don’t pull away or flinch.

The contact brings warmth.

The kind you never knew you needed until now.

[blackboxtheater]

voted for them again!

prompt this time is: cozy!

something simple, thanks!

I do believe the people have spoken, but on the off chance that you follow my blog and haven't voted for Mumpearl in the the Mumbo Jumbo ship bracket, you still can! We can show our presence as a small but mighty rarepair and go down with the ship as we sink beneath the waves lapping at Boatem's shores.

I will still take prompts until voting closes so if you wanted to submit, this might be your last chance 👀

But time for prompts!! Cozy prompts!!

So this could be read as a stand-alone season 10 established relationship tidbit, OR as the season 10 epilogue to House of String that I'm never going to write because I literally already have 21 chapters of content and that's just through season 9. If you've been suffering from all the pining in the recent updates, this is a bit of an antidote to that :)

But either way, the interior of Pearl's base, and in particular her double bed next to a wall of trap doors has HAUNTED me (/pos) since she ran around her base in hide and seek with Gem. Something about the vibe just gave me "sunlight streaming through shutters at sunrise" and now you gave me an excuse to write that!!!

Plus Pearl clearly designed a bedroom and actual living space in her base, while Mumbo just makes a giant storage system as a base and sometimes puts a bed places. So the idea that he still is making his base, but actually sleeps and lives at Pearl's is the premise for this setup.

🌙 🌙 🌙

The sound of the last shulker whirling shut echoes through Pearl's storage room.

There is truly nothing as satisfying as a neatly organized storage room with a set of perfectly prepared shulkers right in the middle, ready to be picked up on the way to a brand new build the next morning. Sure, Pearl likes the update this season where they can add text and images to the boxes. It's helpful and does make it easier to know at a glance what is in each box, but there is something so familiar and soothing about a classic, color-coded row of shulkers prepped for an exciting new build.

Now that she's stopped banging around her storage room opening and closing chests, there's a silence that settles over the space. It's a rare sound on Hermitcraft which is why she loves the peace and quiet that only comes in the dead of night.

She loves the chaos and mischief and joy that the other hermits bring to her life. She does. She loves them all more than she could ever describe. But she also has big plans for her builds each season that require lots of time and effort to not only design, but to construct and refine until they are exactly as perfect as she knows they can be. And it's hard to be productive when her communicator is constantly blowing up with Scar's death messages. Or when a wild Gem can appear out of the sky at any moment. Or when Keralis has some new ideas for the flower and dyes shop or when Ren is looking for an extra person to play Hungry Hermits with or when Grian breaks the mail system again or or or or or.

There is always a distraction looking for her during the daylight hours. It's so easy to have a full, busy, wonderful day where she makes zero progress on any of her projects. Which is why she keeps staying up so late season after season.

Sure she could try to fix her sleep schedule this year now that Mumbo is staying with her full time. He's always yawning by 9:30 and crawling into bed by 10. But she likes being able to get some focus time in when the rest of the hermits are fast asleep. Or at the very least deterred from dropping in unannounced by the ever present threat of mobs lurking in every shadow.

And Mumbo doesn't seem to mind that she drifts down to her study as he drifts up to bed.

Pearl does mind though that her dogs seem to have universally decided that sleeping in a comfy, warm bed is better than keeping her company late into the night. Sure the cats are still awake with her, watching her with their reflective eyes as Pearl makes her way up from the storage room to her and Mumbo's bedroom.  But it's not quite the same as previous seasons when she'd regularly been making design updates late at night with a dog curled up at her feet.

But when she open the door to their bedroom, she does get numerous sets of dark eyes turning to look up at her illuminated in the dull glow streaming in through the crack in the door. Mumbo, as always, is completely passed out, rolled on his side and sleeping right through the sound of her quietly slipping into their bedroom. Her valiant guard dogs, however, silently watch Pearl's nightly routine of she softly padding over to the closet to get changed and ready for bed. And, just like every night, once she is finally ready to climb into bed there is a series of soft thump as her babies jump down to clear her side of the bed and give her room to crawl under the covers.

There's one final round of shuffling and adjusting before the whole Pearl/Mumbo compound is settled for the night. There's the soft click of dog paws against the floor as her puppos find their places curled in corners and at the foot of the bed, the rustle of bedsheets as Pearl tucks herself in behind Mumbo, and finally the quite breath Mumbo lets out each night as Pearl curls around him.

When Pearl mentioned this little routine to him, Mumbo swore up and down that he slept right through her shuffling around and he had no idea when she finally ended up coming to bed each night.

While she initially assumed he was just being cute and polite for her sake, the longer they lived together, the more Pearl was inclined to believe him. He really didn't give any indication of being awake each night as she has moved around their bedroom opening drawers and shutting doors as she got ready for bed. But there is a soft noise that he make every night without fail as Pearl curls up again his back, tucking her face between his shoulder blades and into the soft fabric of his well-worn sleep shirt. Pearl almost likes the idea that he isn’t awake and aware that this happens better. It means that even asleep, there is some part of him that's waiting for her to come into bed. A part that doesn’t fully relax until he feels her warmth beside him. And once she's there, he can finally relax, letting out a soft sigh, barely audible over the rustle of leaves outside. She even thinks sometimes that she can feel the last bit of nervous tension easing out of his shoulders as she nuzzles into him, inhaling the smell of soap and fresh cotton.

It's become a familiar enough scent that even after to most chaotic days it helps calm Pearl's thoughts, helping her drift off to sleep under the warm covers to the sounds of Mumbo's even breathing beside her.

🔆 🔆 🔆

Now that Mumbo has had the pleasure of waking up with the sunrise, he's not sure he could ever go back.

There is no jarring alarm or unexpected buzzing from a communicator to jolt him awake. No sharp, sudden distinction between peaceful sleep and full consciousness. Instead, the sunlight filters through the copper trap doors that make up the walls of his and Pearl's bedroom each morning, slowly bringing him to awareness as the day begins.

The soft sound of the birds outside and the warm light against his eyelids is the first thing he's aware of most mornings now. Which wakes him up just enough so he can shifts around and reach out for the warm body even his subconscious knows is sleeping beside him. But the first tendrils of consciousness aren't satisfied with just knowing Pearl is there in the bed next to him, they want her closer and go seeking her out, gathering her sluggishly into his arms and pulling her into him.

That's one of the few things that can still jolt Mumbo awake now; reaching out and his hazy, half asleep brain not finding Pearl within reach. The first time he reached out to find nothing but a cold pillow and the furry back of an equally confused dog blinking back at him, he had startled awake, fumbling for his communicator with the terrible feeling that something bad had to have happened. If Pearl wasn't in bed, Pearl must be missing and in danger, his barely awake brain had concluded. His worried messages, which his brain had not been conscious enough to remember to whisper rather than put in the general Hermitcraft chat, had been greeted by a sheepish Pearl admitting she may have been so focused on her project that she hadn't notice the birds had started singing to tell her she had worked all the way through to sunrise. The messages had also been fantastic fodder for all of his friends to tease him for the rest of the week, even if most of it was good natured teasing about how cute him and Pearl were together.

But this morning isn't one of those unfortunate rare days he wakes up alone, so when Mumbo rolls over his arm curls around Pearl to pull her into his chest. Sometimes he catches a half mumbled 'good morning' or even a sleepy kiss if she rolls into his chest, but this morning she just wraps her arms around his and snuggles back against him with just the barest bit of fleeting consciousness that he knows will be gone again by the time he's fully awake.

But he's in no rush. These warm, cozy moments curled up together each morning are some of his favorite each day and he's not eager to end them too soon. So he spends a few more minutes letting his consciousness slowly come on line, becoming more aware of the world around him as his brain cells wake up one by one.

First, he starts to hear the leaves rustling outside and can feel their movement shift the pattern of sunlight against his eyes lids. He starts to notice the smell Pearl's shampoo and can feel her leg brush against his as she shifts again in his arms. And finally, he hears the click of nails on the floor as their dogs start to grow impatient in their wait for breakfast.

Which is his cue that his precious morning moments are drawing to a close and it's almost time to get up for the day.

By the time he finally opens his eyes, there is already 3 pairs of black dog eyes staring at him over the edge of the bed. The dogs are smart enough to know that Mumbo looking at them means breakfast is soon, and they can stop giving him pleading looks in bed and can go sit quietly by the bedroom door. But they are also smart enough to know that it will be another few minutes before he gets up, taking a few more moments to appreciate the warm, quite mornings now that he's actually awake enough to take everything in.

But Mumbo knows the dogs won’t wait forever, and there's a long list of things he wants to get started on before the rest of the server wakes up and starts causing chaos. So Mumbo presses a kiss to Pearl's temple and slowly detangles himself from her and the warm covers. There's a little grumble she always lets out as he does, but he attributes that more to the sudden chill as he slips out from under the covers rather than her being conscious of him leaving. He knows that by the time he comes back upstairs to change out of his pajamas, she'll be sound asleep, sprawled cross the bed and taking up more space than a single human should be capable of.

But right now, the most pressing concern is the flock of dogs patiently waiting at the bedroom door for him to get breakfast started, and the growing feeling that hot cup of tea sounds like a great idea right about now.

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 7

Rivers in the Desert from Persona 5

vs.

Escape from the City from Sonic Adventure 2

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Rivers in the Desert:

This isn't a boss theme. This is YOUR theme. This song plays at a point in the game where your team has lost everything and are ready to take it back. You aren't scared of Shido, Shido's scared of YOU. You hold the power now. You stole the song from the boss. It isn't their fight anymore, it's yours.

Escape from the City:

Imagine you're a ten year old with a brand new Gamecube and you're booting up your first ever 3D Sonic game after years of 2D gameplay on the Sega Genesis, and as the first level begins THIS high energy song starts playing, and it's every bit as epic and cool as you imagined it would be. YES Sonic the Hedgehog, I WILL follow you and set you free and trust you and we will escape from the city. The nostalgic memory of this specific song is part of why I love this game so much. Like what a way to open your game.

It is one of the most iconic and well known sonic songs. It is a banger and a perfect opening section to the game.

me going 15 miles over the speed limit ROLLING AROUND AT THE SPEED OF SOUND GOT PLACES TO GO GOTTA FOLLOW MY RAINBOW

[d-lanx]

New WWE AU Idea: Newscaster AU

Ok, I need to put this down somewhere before it drives me insane. It's a stupidly niche AU idea but it's taking up so much brain power for me right now for some reason. It's a journalist AU where the WWE is a TV news channel. Details below the cut.

But basically I've been thinking about all the people who've been running the PLE pre & post shows & hosting PLEs this year a lot. And with the whole news-style interviews and sitting around on sets that often look like news studios, what if they were all actual reporters in a news channel? It's a bit of a weird one I know, but it's been rolling around in my head all weekend.

Btw I have no idea if USA news channels call their emplyees the same sort of titles as we have in the UK so excuse me if the job titles are a bit scuffed. But basically here's all the roles they have, why I chose those roles for them (in brackets), and what they get up to as part of this AU news channel:

Michael Cole: Senior Newsreader- (Because of his commentary work and journalism background). Out of all the people currently regularly on TV, he's been there the longest and is highly respected. Always trusted to keep a level head in times where the world feels like it's gone to hell.

Corey Graves: Business Correspondent- (Because he has a degree in marketing). Feel like he'd do a segment kinda like "The Martin Lewis Money Show" we have in the UK, where he goes through government changes to finance-related stuff, explains it and how it'll affect the average person, and then answers questions from a live studio audience and gives them advice.

Wade Barrett: Environmental Correspondent- (Because he has a degree in marine biology). I get the vibe his favourite animals are tiny and obscure things like a specific type of sea pickle on the verge of extinction or something and he defends them aggressively to get people to help save the species. Has memorised his evidence for global warming and can reel it off with ease, but is sick of having to do it so much cos people STILL DON'T BELIEVE IN IT????????

Pat McAfee: Sports Correspondent- (Do I even need to explain why? He's a mad man and I can't imagine him doing anything else, even out of a whole cast of people on a sports show like WWE). Feel like most people try to keep somewhat calm and professional on a news show, but he's just himself the whole way through, making him one of the most popular reporters on the whole channel because people want to see his OTT reactions to certain events. Feel like he'd also probably be in charge of the news station's radio show, too, what with how he has the Pat McAfee Show in real life.

Big E Langston: Political Correspondent- (He just gives me that vibe being all analytical about wrestling feuds). He's just as tired with politicians' nonsense as we all are, to the point it's hard to hide his dissappointment when they say something stupid and he has to remain unbiased. Never lets politicians get away with evasive answers when he interviews them, but smiles the whole time as he makes them wish they were never born.

CM Punk: War Correspondent- (The man is always scrapping for the love of the game, so of course he'd be in the centre of a war). He's had bombs dropped on his head more times than he can count and regularly goes for runs as a workout to make sure he's still fit enough to run for his life when he's in active warzones. Can tell you all about the complex international relations and battle strategies but secretly has a morbid interest in death & gore which is what actually got him into the job. Once got shot on live television, showed off the wound on camera and finished his broadcast before getting medical treatment. Was only mildly miffed about nearly dying, mostly excited by the whole experience.

Jackie Redmond: Justice Correspondent- (Basically her analyst role in WWE gives me the vibe of someone discussing a crime case). Can tell you all about how 17 people have been skinned alive and cannibalised in graphic detail so casually as if she's talking about the weather. At this point in her career, pretty much nothing can phase her. So if something actually manages to leave her speechless, you know it's bad.

Cathy Kelley: General Reporter- (Basically cos it's just what she's doing in WWE). Going wherever she needs to be to interview people and get to the bottom of a story. Has interviewed some really dangerous people that are twice her size all in the name of finding a good story and everyone's just like "for the love of god please think about ur own safety for once."

The Miz: Media Correspondent- (Cos of his reality TV background and generally over the top vibes). He'd be all over red carpet events and he's definitely still hoping to use his media journalism as some leverage to get into show-business himself. Celebs see him at events and pray they haven't been spotted so they don't have to talk to him, cos he can be a lot. But this little bastard has the eyes of a hawk and will hunt them down. Especially if he's persoanlly a big fan of them and their work.

R-Truth: Weatherman- (Cos he's a ray of sunshine :) ) Just imagine the batshit insanity of him telling people about a storm or how nice the weather's gonna be or something (I'm thinking like a Bob Hale skit on the original Horrible Histories, that kind of madness).

Sheamus: Tech Correspondent- (Cos he's a former IT technician so he can be all brainy). Constantly treated like IT support rather than a journalist and is sick of having to switch on servers people promised were already on, and listening to people with no idea what they're talking about prattle on about the benefits of AI. But at least he gets to talk about flying cars and robot dogs all day and muck about with new tech for a living.

Triple H: Editor In Chief- (Basically the top role in journalism to match with his current role in real life). Running things is like trying to herd cats, but hey, he can put on a pretty damn good show. Trying desperately to move on from the scandals of the days when the previous editor-in-chief was in charge of things.

Obviously some of them wouldn't be able to use their ring names in those environments. Plus I'm probably forgetting some people who should be in this AU that have been involved in pre/post shows, hosting, and commentary, but my brain's a bit too frazzled to go thru all the PLEs right now.

But like... come on... look at them and just imagine for a second... do you see the vision???? Or have I finally gone a bit mad??

LIKE JUST LOOK AT THEM!!

Also it gives me even more reasons to think about punk in suits <3

Also also if he were a war correspondent and had to go out into dangerous places, they'd make him wear gear which means more of this. vvv

Also CM Punk & Big E Langston are the two people I'm blaming for putting this AU in my head just so you know. Cos look at them!!

But also since punkintyre died, I've been reliving my sheamus/punk shipping days and just imagine sheamus waiting for his husband to come back from reporting in an active warzone and being worried for his safety (especially if he's been hurt before [whump time?]). And then all the excitement and relief when he gets back and giving each other special attention cos they were both so stressed and now they're just so happy to see each other again.

Also imagine Punk being inept with technology and needing help from tech savvy husband who's so proud that punk's finally learnt how to attach a file in an email. Punk probably sends Sheamus facebook minions memes and Sheamus despairs.

And then Punk excitedley explains all about battle strategies and war history and Sheamus excitedley explains back about the complexities of designing a self driving car or some shit. They're both just being massive nerds together. Even better when their interests overlap, like the design of tanks or something. Feel like they'd be talking for hours and everyone is like "guys come on, we have a show to run" but they're too busy with their hyperfixations (autistic sheapunk anyone? [is that what the ship name is??]).

Just think of the shipping potential!!

And this whole countdown show also was major inspo cos to me it just looks so much like a news show.

And these three just give me the vibe that E (being a political correspondent) would obviously be doing a show for the elections. And since law and war are both very close to politics, he'd get punk and jackie in to keep him company and the three would do an overnight show reporting on election results as they come in, chatting shit the entire time.

Btw I still don't know what this all means for the other WWE wrestlers. Defeats the point of using commentators and hosts if I also have all the wrestlers also being journalists. So maybe they can be the people featured in the news. All having "normal" jobs like politicians and military and scientists and shit. And these guys can be reporting on their nonsense and bullying them in interviews.

I feel like I could add more people to it, like having ring announcers as general news readers, and Shawn Michaels, Adam Pearce and Nick Aldis as editors or something. And I'm probably forgetting other people who hosted PLEs or were presenters on pre/post shows, and other commentators. So there'll be plenty more that could be added.

Sorry about the info dump but I needed to put this somewhere. I'm not the only one seeing the vision on this am I????

[beedesigns]

My Favourite VS Code Extensions

This actually started with a conversation about favourite VS Code themes which got me to thinking. But as always I had to be that little bit extra. So, here are a few of my favourite VS Code extensions that I think would be particularly helpful for new coders or folks just starting with VS Code.

These are in no particular order! I've tried to keep the list to extensions that help read your code and make thinsg pretty. There are hundreds of extensions for almost every type of code, but I wanted focus on ones for beginners. Ones that won't encourage you to become too lazy relying on shortcuts. So, with no further ado, here we go:

Colorize

This extension will highlight any colours (hex, rgb, hsl etc) in your code.

Auto Rename Tag

Okay, this one might make you a little bit lazy. Sometimes you need to switch things up, and that can start to get complicated if you're working on a lot of code. This extension will change the opening or closing tag name paired with the one you manually change. It prevents mispellings that will break your code and makes life easier.

Spellcheck

Ever typed heder instead of header? Or justfy-content instead of justify-content? Well, this extension will help pick up on those typos and keep your code clean (and working!).

Indent Rainbow

This is such a small thing, but possibly one of my favourites on the list. Indent rainbow does pretty much what it says on the tin, adding a coloured line down the lefthand side along the indent of your code. It looks pretty and helps easily keep track of where you are.

Color Picker

Who doesn't love beautiful colours? Colour Picker lets you choose all the beautiful colours you could want without having to leave VS Code.

HTML Checker

This extension helps prevent errors by checking your code against the W3C Markup Validation Service searching for errors. Great of avoiding issues further down the line. Useful for beginners and pros alike to be honest.

Rainbow Brackets

I tend to find this one more useful in javascript, but it's good for everything. I used to use another, also called Rainbow Brackets but that's been depricated, and I like the default colours in this one. There are a few, so shop around.

Prettier

This extension forces a set format on your code, keeping things neat and tidy. It can take a little getting used to but the documentation is pretty good. Helps build good habits, keeping things uniform and easy to read.

These are just a few of the ones I've personally got installed. As I mentioned, there are hundreds of different extensions. Many of which will do the same thing. So, make sure you have a look around and find what works best for you!

Which extension would you recommend for a beginner?

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 9

Are you ready?

Since the infant can't talk her thoughts will be in brackets

Fergus: She’s going to be here after school!

Onyx: *unenthusiastically* Yay

Fergus: I thought you wanted to have a sister

Onyx: I do, I’m just feeling sick

Fergus: You should stay home

Onyx: I don’t know

Fergus: Well I know if you go to school Emi is going to end up following you around screaming you’ve got the plague

Onyx sighs as they know their brother is probably right. Willing the swirls on their face to come through in their voice they call in that they’ll be homebound today.

Eliza: Honey you should be napping

Onyx: I was but I needed some juice

Eliza: Okay well please get back in bed after. If your dad wakes up before you go up tell him I’m walking Ginger before the social worker gets here

Onyx follows their mothers’ instructions and eventually Bob learns Eliza is out when he and Strawberry pass her and Ginger like ships in the night. Bob assures her he’ll be back home in time for their special delivery.

Here she is! Miss Tiana Pancakes, newest member of the stack. First up on the agenda once she’s dropped off is a feeding to stop her getting hungry. Then while Bob goes to set up the kitchen for the new addition Eliza plays with her daughter who may be intense but is no less adorable for it.

Eliza: You are so precious my little Tiana. Me and your daddy are going to love you forever and ever, I promise. Your older siblings will love you to, and we have two cute dogs, I’m sure you’ll like them. They’re fluffy

Tiana smiles as Eliza lifts her up for a kiss. Eliza then takes her to the playmat in the lounge for Bob to spend some time with her.

Bob: Hey there, oh you are cute as a button aren’t you? Can we have some tummy time with daddy, huh?

Very carefully he turns the infant on to her tummy and works on trying to get her to lift her head.

Bob: Come on honey, lift that head

Tiana: *cries* (but my head is heavy)

Bob: Oh dear. Eliza! What do I do

Tiana: *cries* (I don’t like this, put me back on my back)

Eliza: Just keep trying Bob, she’ll learn eventually

Bob: But I feel like I’m torturing her when she cries

Tiana: *cries* (I hate this)

Eliza: It’s just because the others went straight to toddlers

Tiana: *cries* (why won’t he turn me over)

Bob: I don’t want to be the bad guy, can’t you do it

Eliza: *sighs* Okay I’ll try later, how about giving her a nap

Bob: Yes! Come here Tiana, Daddy’s got you, yes I do

Tiana: *sniffles*

Bob cradles Tiana and softly whispers while rocking her. It doesn’t take long for the infant to fall asleep, it’s been a big day for her to.

Eliza: There Bob, not so scary now is she

Bob: She’s perfect, our daughter

Strawberry: *yaps* New human! Pink bow! Oh we’re twins

Tiana: *panics and cries* (Loud noises! What the heck is that? Does it want to eat me)

Bob: Oh no, she’s awake

Eliza: Here, I’ll take her. Think you can handle being the bad guy with the dogs

Bob: *laughs* yes. Here Tiana, here’s your mother. You’ll be safe with mother, yes you will

Tiana: *grins* (It tickles)

In Eliza’s arms Tiana suddenly remembers the scary yapping dog and begins crying all over again.

Tiana: *cries* (I’ll be eaten, goodbye cruel world)

Eliza: *shushes* There there Tiana, its okay. Strawberry is a bit loud isn’t she, don’t worry she’s just saying hello because she likes you.  Do you see, she has matching bows

Tiana doesn’t understand any of this but Eliza’s voice begins to soothe her and she feels calmer.

Eliza: See now, isn’t it better when we’re not crying huh? We can find something to smile about, yes we can

Tiana beams up at Eliza happy again.

Eliza: Now I know you’ve had a very big day but can we try to practice lifting that beautiful head

Eliza rolls Tiana on to her tummy and begins encouraging her to try and lift herself up. A couple of times she comes close but before long the crying starts again.

Tiana: *cries* (I just want to be an infant forever)

Eliza: Oh honey, it’s okay, it’s okay

Gently Eliza rolls Tiana onto her back and makes some funny faces until the young one is smiling again.

Eliza prepares some formula and gives Tiana a feeding before bed. The little girl guzzles away happily until it gets to burping time. When Eliza pats her back Tiana sicks up some of the formula on her shirt.

Eliza: Uh oh, do we have a happy spitter

Tiana: *whimpers* (If I am why does my animation look sad)

Eliza: There there honey, are you ready for bed? Mother will get you to bed

Previous ... Next

[ace-does-stuff]

new setting (new ideals)

Summary: Wherein John Dory accidentally sneaks into the home universe of Sans after a very small margin of victory in the latest multiversal tourney; things escalate in unprecedented ways after the local scientist sizes him up to scale.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, god i am so sorry for this

Authors Note: @ohposhers @bulliestrolls someone needs to put you two in the fucking slammer for drawing sansdory, and then they need to put me in the slammer for writing sansdory. for the sake of enjoying this fic please picture JD as a lot more creature than in canon.

John Dory was small enough to fit inside of Sans' coat pocket.

Sans discovers this the hard way when the ex leader of brozone falls out of his pocket after his return to Snowdin.

"Ain't snow fucking way." Was what Sans managed as he stared at the unmoving body in the snow, far too small to be considered the average monster for the underground. The Troll would be eaten without a second thought, mistaken for the bugs Muffet doesn't provide protection for.

He plucks the tufted tail and holds up John Dory like he's a dead rat. Of course he snaps awake as soon as Sans is holding him at eye height, and with a screech he's flung aside as the skeleton lurches back.

Sans pauses to catch his breath, "Okay, so you're not dead. That's good."

"Where am I?!" Was John Dory's instant question as he shook the snow from his hair and brushed himself down.

"Pipe down pipsqueak, I won't let you get squished," Sans said as he took a seat on the snow. He held out a hand, "We should probably get you situated with Alphys, size you up a bit."

John reluctantly stepped onto a gloved hand and took a seat on the palm, it was cold and unpleasant. His tail thwipped loudly despite his size, "Anything else in mind to get me back home?" The words are agitated.

"Want me to leave you here?"

Silence.

"Thought so, I'll give you a hand in figuring it out, but you're playing by my rules bud."

"How were you the reigning champ for years on end?"

"The girlies liked me for my dry humor, MILF hunting attitude, and undetermined backstory- and my infinite fuckability of course."

"Must suck not having a dick."

Sans just gives a hum before giving John a gently toss, only a few inches but he still yelps and clings desperately to phalanges when he lands back in Sans' hand. It garners a chuckle from the skeleton, "Pal, I got extremities you couldn't even dream of, and no, that isn't an invitation to start listing 'em off."

John Dory shuts his mouth.

"Don't be shocked if Alphys tries to fill you up with needles and probes."

"With what-"

"She's a curious gal."

-/-/-/-

Thankfully the resizing process involves a lot less probing than Sans said it would, which John is eternally grateful for. He'd like to avoid having a cold piece of metal shoved up his ass if possible. The process just required a small blood sample and some weighing before he was resized with one little ray.

And then he was the exact same height as Sans, give or take a few inches.

"Proportionately, I can see why you won," Sans said, hands stuffed in his pockets and expression same as always. It's far too hard for John Dory to read, he can't tell if it's sarcastic or genuine.

"Thanks." He shrugs off the compliment because he doesn't know how to take it.

"Is it easier to see why I was the reigning champ?" Sans asked.

"You're the furthest thing from 'sexyman' out there," John Dory said before he could actually think about the words exiting his mouth.

Sans laughed, "Tell it to The Onceler, if you can convince him to take me off the bracket then I'll stop trying my best."

"You don't try at all."

"The girlies like me for that."

"What is it with you and the girlies?"

"What makes you think that the guys were voting for me?" Sans shot back, "Think you can walk and talk? I know a shortcut."

"Good point," John Dory said, "I can walk and talk."

"Cool." Sans holds out a hand.

"What?"

"Gotta hold my hand to take the shortcut."

John places his paw atop Sans hand and the grip the motion is received with is far too intense to be considered normal. But a shortcut is a shortcut, and he'll just have to take help to get around this universe until he can get home.

-/-/-/-

"Ketchup?"

"Yeah man, ketchup." Sans tossed a bottle to John Dory as he spoke, the Troll catching it with ease.

"You expect me to drink ketchup? I've had worse, but what about alcohol?" John asked.

"Bud," Sans began, "The bartender is a living flame, you really think he wants to be handling highly flammable stuff?"

"Fair point, but can you actually get drunk offa ketchup?" John asked, and he gave this slanted smirk as he spoke, partially leaning an elbow on the bar. He's gotten more comfortable after a week in Sans' hometown, he lives in the room under the sink in the skelebros household and made it his own until later notice.

Sans gives a hum, "Wanna find out?"

John grins before popping off the cap, "Try me."

-/-/-/-

"What do they put in this shit, Sans?" The words are spoken with a giggle and despite the ache in his head John Dory goes back for more.

"Tomatoes," Sans answered with, still slowly downing his first serving of ketchup.

"It's gotta be more than that, bonedaddy," John Dory purred, leaning a little bit more on the bar and resting his chin in his hands.

A distinct azure rises to Sans' face, "I think you've had too much ketchup."

"You meant it."

"What?"

"When we were in the lab, when you said I looked hot. You meant it, you like me," John deduced rather skillfully despite his inept state.

"And if I do?" Sans asked.

John pauses, "It'd be hot, Sans and John Dory double teaming the tourney."

"Alright, we should get home," Sans said, sliding off his bar stool and holding out a gloved hand.

John Dory took it and slid off his own stool, his tail wagged about lazily. His face is burning up and he looks oddly lovesick, a realization that Sans makes the choice to ignore until he can contemplate it late at night. Alone. In bed. By himself.

The Troll slinks an arm under Sans' shoulders, face resting atop the fluff of his hoodie and nuzzled into the collar of his turtleneck, he still clutches a hand tightly. He gives a contented hum, "Your jacket's soft."

"I know."

"You're soft."

"That's an odd thing to say considering I'm all bones."

"I'll show you bones."

"We really gotta get you home."

"And then?"

"And then you're going to sleep, no goodnight kiss."

-/-/-/-

Another week passes and Papyrus suddenly has to deal with the fact that Sans and John Dory are being overtly romantic.

"Your teeth are cold." John Dory would always say whenever he tried to kiss Sans.

"The girlies like it." Sans would always answer.

And sometimes John Dory would try again to get the usually snapped shut jaw open, or he'd say, "I guess I'm one of the girlies."

They'd laugh and after a small beat of silence continue on with their day.

Maybe it's selfish that Sans is keeping John Dory from a way back to his own universe, but he's pretty sure the Troll doesn't mind. He's stopped asking when he'll get to go back home at least, and Sans is benefiting from having someone around.

It makes the resets more tolerable if nothing else, and Sans just doesn't tell John about them. About the times he's watched everyone die and everyone live, he never speaks a word of it. And unless Frisk brings it up, he won't have to know of the amnesia or the violence.

And they can keep living their happily ever after.