Fuck This Handmaids Tale Country.

𝖗𝖔𝖈𝖐𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘

𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Axl Rose

1982 by @lost-in-the-80s

Wife sharing by @duffslut

Still mad? by @duffslut

Talk to me by @duffslut

Old money by @duffslut​

Duff McKagan

Threesome by @rockthingsbymeg

Cry baby by @duffslut

Ultraviolence by @duffslut​

Choking by @thesmokingguns

Slash / Saul Hudson

Threesome by @rockthingsbymeg

Raw Power by @s-lasxh

Birthday Boy by @s-lasxh

Somebody’s is watching me by @s-lasxh

Tangerine by @zaynsxsoul

Dance for me by @axlsangel

The stripclub by @slashxrose​

Izzy Stradlin

Wife sharing by @duffslut

Steven Adler

Terrible Twos by @tuffduff​

Drum Studio by @duffslut

Nikki Sixx

From the source by @metal-mxddy

hey, are you still there? 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you know yourself that it’s sad that you settled on being a backburner, but you didn’t mind crisping up on lando’s backburner as long as he still think of you.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, unrequited love(?), open ending, insecurities, reader being treated as a backburner, childhood best friends, christmas angst, luisa, typos, and few grammatical errors.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had always wanted to write this for so long, but i’m not sure how to pen it, but finally, here it is! so far, i’m satisfied. i don’t know much about luisa, but i’m sorry that luisa is kind of villainized in this 🥲 i’m sorry. this is like another christmas one shot, sooo haha i intentionally made it as an open ending bc i want to leave the ending to you, and let me apologize now bc this one shot won’t have a part 2. it just felt right for me to leave it as an open ending and leave the ending up to you. so i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The glow of the snowy afternoon sun filtered through your apartment windows, casting long, golden shadows across the floor as you sat cross-legged amidst a pile of forgotten keepsakes.

Your plan was simple, really. To declutter, toss out what no longer sparked happiness, and finally reclaim some much-needed space in your small New York apartment. But simplicity soon faded the moment you stumbled upon a memory box that was buried beneath old blankets in the closet. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the worn out wooden edges now slightly faded, but just holding the box again made you feel something deep in your chest.

Sliding the lid of the box open, the faint scent of nostalgia greeted you. There was a mixture of paper and dust that carried you back to another time, another place. Polaroid photographs, ticket stubs, concert tickets, and tiny trinkets spilled out as you began to sift through the box’s contents, fingers brushing against fragments of a life you had once shared with someone who knew you better than anyone. Then you saw it—the camcorder.

It sat nestled at the bottom of the box, its black casing slightly scuffed but still intact, as though it had been waiting for you all these years. The sight of it made your breath catch, fingers hesitant as they wrapped around the familiar shape. A small laugh escaped you, soft and bittersweet, as a wave of memories washed over you.

The camcorder had been a gift from your parents, given to you when you were just a teen. At the time, you had rolled your eyes at the thought of having a camcorder. You were not exactly the type to obsess over gadgets or record everything, but your parents had insisted, saying something along the lines of making memories worth keeping.

You hadn’t even opened the box properly before you had told him about it. Lando had always had a thing for photography, an almost childlike fascination with capturing the world around him. Naturally, he had lit up at the mention of the camcorder. You remembered the way his face had brightened, how he had practically snatched it from your hands when he saw it, excitement radiating from him like it was Christmas morning.

“Trust me,” he said, voice brimming with certainty as he flipped the device open with ease. “This is going to be so much fun, you’ll see.”

And it was.

The camcorder had quickly become his, in everything but name. Lando had used it more than you ever had, his artistic streak shining through in the way he would capture the smallest, most mundane moments and make them feel extraordinary. But what stood out the most was his favorite subject. You.

Every time you hung out, or visited a new place, his focus would inevitably turn to you. At first, you had protested, laughing and batting the camcorder away, but over time, it became a rhythm of sorts. Lando, behind the lens, coaxing your laughter and teasing your smile, and you, rolling your eyes but secretly loving the way he saw you. Through the lens, even the quietest days seemed to feel alive.

You traced a finger along the camcorder’s edges, the faint outline of his fingerprints etched invisibly into its surface. Four years. It had been four years since you had left the UK—four years since you had left him. You told yourself that what you did was for the best, that you needed to grow, chase bigger dreams.

Part of it all was true, but the other part, the one which you didn’t say out loud, was the reason why your chest tightened even now. Was because Lando made you feel too much, and you were not sure you could bear it any longer.

You grabbed your laptop, briefly hesitated over the laptop’s keyboard before finally connecting the camcorder. The familiar chime of recognition echoed through the room as your laptop detected the device, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervous anticipation.

It had been years since you last thought about these videos, let alone watched them. As the files began to load, thumbnails filled the screen—tiny, burry windows into the past. You clicked on the first one, and the second is the screen lit up with a younger version of yourself, smiling awkwardly into the lens. Lando’s voice filled the room almost immediately.

“Come on, you can smile better than that!” he teased from behind the camera, chuckling.

Without even realizing it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched. The video playing one after another, each one showed a snapshot of your lives back then. There were clips of you on spontaneous trips—forests, city streets, karting, and endless car rides with Lando singing loudly and off-key while you laughed at him.

There were also quieter moments—rainy afternoon when you were sat by your bedroom window, lost in thought, while he filmed you from across the room, calling it aesthetic. Lando captured everything, from the highs to the lows.

The memories felt vivid, almost too vivid, as if you could reach through the screen and relieve those moments. It was the year he had started his Formula 1 career, and the first time you saw him truly chasing his dreams with everything he had, and were beyond proud of him. At the same time, it was also the year you were filling out endless applications to universities in America, unsure of where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do in life. It was like you were both standing on the edge of something new, something big, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

It was also the year you finally admitted to yourself that what you felt for Lando was no longer just friendship. You had been so close for so long that the shift felt almost imperceptible at first—lingering glance here, flutter in your chest there. But you acknowledged it, there was no going back.

You found yourself looking at him differently, noticing the little things about him that had always been there but suddenly felt so significant. The way how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, his curly hair, aquamarine eyes, the quiet focus he had when working on something he cared about, and most of all, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

But you kept it to yourself. You couldn’t tell Lando, not when he had told you so casually, like it was nothing that he liked someone.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same,” he had said, voice laced with uncertainty.

For a brief moment, a hope sparked in you. Maybe after all this time, Lando felt the same way about you. Maybe this was the moment that you had finally been waiting for.

But that hope shattered almost immediately when he pulled out his phone and showed you a photo. The girl’s name was Luisa, and she was stunning. She was everything that you were not—model, successful, gorgeous, has a radiant smile and a presence that seemed magnetic. Luisa was exactly Lando’s type, and you knew it.

The realization hit you harder than you had expected. You felt dumb and foolish, for even thinking one second that Lando could ever see you that way. You were not like Luisa, you were not the kind of girl who turned heads or made people stop in their tracks. You were just…you. Lando’s best friend. The person he could have a joke with, confide in, and lean on, but will never see you anything as more.

So you stayed quiet. Buried your feelings deep, gaslighting yourself that everything was better the way it is. The less you talk, the less you risked losing him. Maybe if you kept on pretending that everything was fine, you could learn to let him go.

A new clip began to play. You were seated on the edge of a bench, face scrunched in frustration as you ran a hand through your hair. The sound of Lando’s laughter crackled through the speakers, light and teasing, as he zoomed in on your expression from behind the camera.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

It was clear that from that clip that he was trying to cheer you up. It had been one of those moments when everything felt overwhelming. Your plans, future, and feelings. Yet, even in your frustration, Lando had managed to make you laugh. He always did. Watching it now, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how young and naïve you looked.

But the video carried more weight than just a frustration afternoon. That day, you had a front-row seat to another chapter in Lando’s pursuit of Luisa. It was the day he told you that he finally confessed his feeling to her, and you could still remember how his voice sounded. It was a mix of hope and vulnerability as he recounted every detail, but his excitement had quickly dimmed when Lando explained how his confession had met an uncertainty from Luisa, not really sure how she felt about Lando.

You remembered how that hurt him, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. It was one of the few times you had seen Lando genuinely shaken, his confidence chipped away by a single sentence. Still, it did not stop him, if anything, it only made him more determined to win her over.

This is exactly what Lando is—relentless, persistent, unwilling to let go of something he wanted.

Then there was you, caught in the orbit of it all. A pattern had started to form, one you did not want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. Whenever Luisa turned her back on him, when his texts went unanswered, or her attention drifted elsewhere, Lando would always find his way to you. His calls would come late at night, voice low and tinged with sadness as he stumbled through excuses to keep you on the line, and you, despite knowing better, would always answer.

Those were the moments you chastised yourself for loving. When Lando was hurt, when he felt small and alone, he always came to you. You were the person he confided in, one he leaned on. It almost felt like you mattered to him in the way you wanted to. Even if you knew, deep down, that it was not that. That it was temporary, a band-aid for his bruised ego—you couldn’t help but savor the attention.

But then, inevitably, Luisa would give him the smallest bit of her time, and you would become invisible to him again. The calls would stop, texts would taper off, and Lando would be lost in the glow of her half-hearted affection. You would feel the ache of being left behind, sting of knowing you were nothing more than a safety net, a placeholder, a convenient fallback plan.

It was a never ending cycle you despised, one that made you look at yourself with pity as you played into it. But whether it was out of hope or some cruel sense of inevitability, you stayed. You let it happen. Time and time again, picking up the pieces when Lando fell apart, only to watch him hand them back to her the moment she glanced his way.

It was always like this. It had always been like this, and somehow, despite everything, you definitely hadn’t learned your lesson.

The video continued to play, the faint static of old footage mixing with Lando’s voice can be heard, his laughter like a distant echo from another life. As you watched yourself on the screen—smiling, frowning, existing in a world where everything felt so much simpler—memories came rushing back, faster and heavier than you had expected. They were not just simple memories of moments, they were reminders of how deeply you felt, how much your life revolved around Lando without you even realizing it.

Your feelings for him had always been the silent undercurrent of your friendship, unspoken but ever-present. You had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that you would grow out of it, but you never did.

Instead, those feelings rooted themselves deeper, becoming a part of you. You wondered if the reason you hadn’t moved on was not because you could not, but because you hadn’t really tried at all. Maybe you were afraid, maybe life felt easier when you let it stay messy, undefined—when you clung to the hope that Lando might see you differently someday.

But the reality of it all was far less romantic. You had become his backburner, a place he turned to only when he had nowhere else to go, and the most pathetic part? You didn’t even mind. You let yourself burn quietly on his backburner, knowing full well you would never be the main thing in his life.

No matter how many times you say to yourself that it was okay, that you could handle it, deep down it ate you. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted, there hadn’t been for years. It was always him, it will always be Lando—his laugh, his voice, his stupid smile that made you forget the pain he caused by just being himself. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t even let it go.

Your memory reeled in to that one particular night, a night etched into your memory like a scar. Lando had called you on facetime, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. His eyes were red, voice trembling with raw emotions as he told you what happened with Luisa.

She had hurt him again, made him feel small in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Lando looked so broken, so unlike himself, that it made your heart twist in ways that you did not want to admit.

And yet, you couldn’t help but tease him. You told him how he looked ugly when he cried, masking your own hurt with humor. But inside, there was a flicker of something else—something cruel and selfish. You felt happy that he thought of you in that moment, that you were the person he called when everything else in his life fell apart. It was sick and twisted, and you couldn’t have hated yourself more for it, but it was the truth.

At the same time, you felt conflicted, torn between two versions of yourself. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you by treating you like an afterthought. But the other part of you, the part that still believed in him, in the friendship you had shared since you were kids—wanted to comfort him, to be there for him even if it meant breaking yourself in the process.

You always knew how it would go. In a week or so, Lando would be back on his feet, back in Luisa’s orbit, and you would fade into the background again. He would stop calling, texting, and you would be left alone again, waiting for the next time he needed you. You wished you could stop caring, that you could let him go and just move on, but you couldn’t. You cared too much, loved him too deeply, and it was destroying you.

You stayed. You stayed because even though it hurt, even though it made you feel small and invisible, there was still a part of you that believed in him. In the boy who had once held your camcorder, laughing as he filmed you spinning in circles in the park. In the friend who had always been there, even when it felt like the rest of the world wasn’t. You believed in him, even if it meant you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You checked the timestamp on the video and realized it was nearing the end. The final clips began to play, taking you back to a day you remembered so clearly—the beach trip. The screen filled with bright sunlight and sand, camera jerking slightly as Lando filmed you running along the shoreline, wearing one of his bucket hats and sunglasses, your laughter ringing out over the crashing waves.

You watched yourself as if through someone else’s eyes—carefree, alive, darting back and forth like a puppy with boundless energy. Lando’s voice came from behind the camera, teasing you for your antics, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory.

It was one of those days you had hoped would change everything. Lando wasn’t thinking about Luisa then. He was with you, laughing, joking, making you feel like maybe you mattered more to him than you let yourself believe. You had clung to that slight flicker of hope every time he drifted back into your orbit, telling yourself that the moments he spent with you would eventually outweigh the hold Luisa had over him. But you know then, deep down, you knew better. You had always known better.

The last clip began to play. The two of you were in one of his cars, the camera shakily capturing the scene as he handed it to you. Lando had insisted you try driving it, grinning with the kind of reckless confidence that was so quintessentially him. You know that he hated someone driving him, especially that it was his car, but he didn’t even hesitated when it came to you.

The video was cut to him standing outside, filming you through the windshield as you tried to maneuver his car into a parking spot, and it was a disaster. He zoomed in on your face, flushed and irritated, as you waved frantically at him to get back inside of his car and help you. Your lips moved as you shouted something at him, your expression twisted in mock anger, but it only made him laugh.

That sound, the sound of his laughter—echoed through the room as you watched yourself scowling at him, completely oblivious to how the moment would look years later.

When the video finally faded to black, you sat there in silence, staring at the black screen of your laptop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a sad smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The memories left a bittersweet feeling in their wake, filling your chest with an ache that never really went away.

You always knew the truth. You would always be in Lando’s corner, even when it felt like he had forgotten you existed. You would stay, waiting in the shadows, knowing full well you were his second choice, or maybe not even a choice at all. Yet, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care, you had settled on being Lando’s backburner long ago, content to exist where he had placed you, because even the smallest scraps of his attention felt like more than you deserved. You knew it would never be enough, but it was all you had.

When you left the UK, you had never properly said goodbye to Lando. You couldn’t face him—not after everything. It had been the hardest thing you had ever done, leaving the place where you grew up and leaving the person that mattered to you the most.

The day you were about to board the plane to America was supposed to be the start of something new for you. But it also turned out to be the same day Lando and Luisa had finally gotten together. It didn’t make sense at first, you had been too wrapped up in your own plans to notice anything strange.

You were so focused on your own future, dreams, and adventure that lay ahead. But the moment you realized what had really happened, the gut-wrenching truth hit you all at once. Despite everything, despite all the years of friendship, despite the deep feelings you had kept buried, Lando had never said a word to you.

The first sign came two weeks before your departure, when you noticed he had not contacted you. Not once. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken, and then, one evening, it hit you. While youwere scrolling through instagram, lost in the sea of photos and videos, you saw it.

Lando and Luisa standing together in a sunlit paradise. They were everywhere—clinging to each other, smiling like they had always been this happy. Their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the couple everyone thought they were meant to be, living out the kind of romance you had always imagined for yourself—only, it was not with you.

It stung more that you could have imagined. It felt like a cruel grip and punch to the stomach—seeing them together, seeing him in a way you never thought you would. There they were, living life, having fun in Dubai, while you had been silently fading into the background, unable to say anything, unable to be anything more than just a shadow.

It suddenly made the decision easier for you. Maybe it was petty, or childish. But at that moment, it felt like it was the only way to protect yourself. You didn’t need to say goodbye, or talk to him again. You didn’t think that talking or saying goodbye to him would even change anything. You didn’t want to face the truth anymore—didn’t want to admit how much it hurts to be forgotten, be pushed aside while he moved on.

So, you did what you had to do. You packed up everything, every piece of your life that had been tangled with Lando’s, and left. You left without a word, without any explanation. The silence between you felt so final, so complete, as if you were never even meant to matter.

When you landed in America, you didn’t waste any second. You changed your number, blocked him on social media, deleted every trace of him from your phone, from your mind, from your life. It was easier that way, right? No more reminders of what you could never have. No more wondering if he still thought about you. It was better to start fresh, even if starting over meant leaving everything you knew behind. You never looked back, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You gently closed your laptop, the soft click of the screen snapping shut, and disconnected the camcorder. You wanted to throw it away, erase it from your life entirely, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the hope that one day, you could look at it without all the pain attached to it, or maybe it was the attachment to something that had once meant so much.

With a deep sigh, you placed it back in the memory box, careful not to let it settle to heavily among the other momentos you had packed away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to part with it—not yet at least. Instead, you pushed the box deeper into your storage room, where it would sit quietly for now, out of sight but never far from your mind.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the box as if it might somehow speak to you, but all it did was remain silent, like everything else in your life that you had tried to put behind you. The soft sound of snow falling outside caught your attention, and you moved toward the window, your gaze drawn to the soft flurry of while blanketing the streets below.

Christmas was approaching in just a week, and for a brief moment, you wished you could go home, back to your family, to the familiar comfort of the holiday season. But the thought quickly passed. Home felt too far now, and you had your own life to navigate, a life in New York that, for all its challenges, had become a place you had grown to love.

You turned away from the window and began to change, pulling on warm clothes fit for the snow outside. It wasn’t much, just a quick errand to stock up on groceries before it got too dark. You didn’t mind the task, it gave you a reason to get out, to take in the city and its wintry charm. The air was fresh and crisp as you made your way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you with a soft click.

The world around you was calm as you stepped out into the quiet of the snowy streets, snowflakes falling gently around you, almost like a veil between you and the hustle of city life. New York felt different in the winter, quieter somehow, even as the holiday decorations began to shine brighter. Streetlights casting long shadows across the snow, and you admired the festive cheer that the city wore like a second skin. You had seen the Christmas tree lighting at the New Haven Green just last week, a tradition that always brought a sense of warmth despite the chill in the air.

Walking through the snow, you felt a small sense of contentment, something you had been searching for but hadn’t fully realized was within reach. The lights, crisp air—all of it made you feel like you had carved out a space of your own here. You hoped that it would stay that way, that the peace you had found wouldn’t be disturbed, even as the holiday season and all its chaos loomed on the horizon.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but your thoughts drifted to other things—nothing too heavy, just the soft hum of city life. It had been a peaceful walk, but then, you froze.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, someone so familiar in the distance. Curly hair that you could picture in your sleep. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light, a resemblance that your mind conjured up after hours of rewatching old videos. You quickly dismissed the thought, trying to shake it off. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be here.

But then, as if the universe had conspired to pull the past back into your life. The person looked up, and everything in your world stopped. It was him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The air around you seemed to thicken, sounds of the city dimming in the background as you took in the sight of him. Lando. In New York. Of all places he can be in right now, why was he here?

It had taken a long time to convince yourself, year after year, that you were fine, that you had moved on, that everything was better this way. Yet here he was, standing only a few meters away from you, the same familiar figure that had been a part of your life for so long.

You both stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other as people around passed you by. Neither of you moved, as if the moment held too much weight to let anything else happen. It was like time had bent around you, your mind racing, questions swirling, but none of them found their way to your lips. You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you could breathe.

Lando stood there too, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that everything else feel irrelevant. You knew he hadn’t expected to see you. Not here, not like this. Yet, there he was—right in front of you, a ghost from your past made flesh, making the familiar ache in your chest resurface.

You had thought you were done with him, that you had moved on, but standing here, with him so close and yet so far, you realized that maybe you had not moved on as much as you thought.

The world around you seemed to hold its breath.

folded ✸ jww

Cursing, overthinking, mentions of kissing, sasaengs | masterlist

📞 love GRAMs: @seokmn @wonkierideul @kissbyoon @paradiseoflosers @savemyheart101 @reiofsuns2001 @ateez-atiny380 @peraltasvibe @raintapestry @jihoonsbbygirl @fluerchive

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

Nana Tour with SEVENTEEN

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

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

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ nana tour masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

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

[Party bus for SEVENTEEN]

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

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

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

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

[Jeonghan: Vice Leader of SEVENTEEN]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Low power]

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” Minghao replied, calm as ever.

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

[Apologizes for the lies]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Leaving S.Coups makes Luna sad]

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

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

[?]

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

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

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

[What could it be?]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Idol reflexes]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Maybe…]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[???]

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

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

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

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

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

[Effects of drunk freestyle rapping whilst sleep deprived]

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

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

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

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

[Got it]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[The introverts struggle]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Correct]

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

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

[Correct again]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeonghan simply smirked, clearly satisfied with himself.

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

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

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

[Equipment excites them the most]

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

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

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

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

[Tokyo > Incheon > Rome > Budapest]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[It isn’t]

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

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

[Confusion everywhere]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[More lies]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Bunny telepathy]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Tokyo > Incheon]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Bye-bye]

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

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

[Starts his own vlog]

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

[The ‘poor thing’ got dragged]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Dash]

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

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

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

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

[She is in love]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[They are one and the same]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Proceeds to pressure the shopaholic]

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

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

[Plop]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[No bag just style]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[No bag just vibes]

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

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

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

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

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

[Bunny 1 and bunny 2]

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

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

[Ding ding ding]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[…]

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

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

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

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

[Ta-da!]

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

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

[Oops]

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

[Peace out]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Really?”

“Dokyeom brought it?” Jeonghan followed.

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

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

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

[Don’t even try to imagine]

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

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

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

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

[#HelpPDNa]

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

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

[That we are]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Peaceful at last]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Food wakes her up]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Fidgeting]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[The dedication]

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

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

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

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

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

[SEVENTEEN is on their way Italy]

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

[To be continued in Clip 1-3]

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@tlounetwork | The Last of Us Week 2023 | day 5: favorite dynamic ↳   Ellie and Joel

The Sunken City

Chapter 1: The Last Drop

It’s sequel time!!!

This is a sequel story to City of Iron and Glass! This chapter, or the story that will follow sadly won’t make any sense without the context of that story.

As you’ll see, this story will largely follow the events of the show. However, that doesn’t mean everything is staying the same >:)

A tavern. The Last Drop, as the bold lettering on the sign proclaimed. Not just a bar but a sprawling space that seemed to grow the longer you looked. The main hall was vast, with polished wooden counters and sturdy tables scattered about. High above, iron chandeliers hung like industrial constellations. Off to the side, a maze of hidden tunnels promised endless adventure for the children. Behind the tavern lay a house-sized apartment, complete with office space, a workshop for you, and separate rooms for each child. It was more than you’d dared to hope for—in every way but one.

“A bar?” you murmured, unable to hide the apprehension in your voice.

He didn’t falter, his grin softening into something more earnest. “It’s not just a bar, Min. Look closer,” he said, gesturing around the space. “This is more than just a place to drink. It’s a home. It’s a place for the community. For us.”

“I just… I don’t want them to grow up thinking this is all there is,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want them to have a chance at something better.”

“And they will,” Vander said, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Because we’ll show them how to build it. Here, where it matters. Where we can make a difference."

Your eyes swept across the room again, taking in the details you’d missed in your initial shock. The sturdy booths in the corner, perfect for quiet conversations. The wide-open space where the kids could run without fear. The private apartment in the back, designed with care and consideration.

His conviction was palpable, and it was hard not to be swept up in it. You sighed, nodding slowly. “Okay,” you said, though the hesitation lingered. “But it’s going to take a lot of work.”

Vander’s grin returned, this time accompanied by a wink. “Good thing we’re not afraid of a little hard work, eh?”

It wasn’t much, but you’d made it your home. Now, the bar—the infamous Last Drop—was the bustling epicenter of the Fissures. Both home and workplace for you and your now-husband. But more than that, it was the closest thing the Undercity had to a town hall and council tower, all rolled into one increasingly grungy building. One of the first things you’d installed was the pool tables, a place for people to hang out and chat. But the booths were for business, like the Undercity’s personal offices.

As he’d promised, The Last Drop wasn’t just a place to grab a drink; it was a lifeline. Deals were struck here, alliances forged, and disputes settled over pints of ale and the steady clack of billiard balls. It had become a refuge for the weary and a stage for the powerful, a space where the lines between home, workplace, and community blurred until they were one and the same. Vander’s vision of a place where the Undercity could gather, plan, and grow had come to life in these walls.

Tonight was a pretty usual night by crowd standards, busy enough to keep you on your toes. Not that you’d ever complain—lord knows you needed the money. Slamming down a crate of booze from the pantry, you wiped the sweat from your brow, flinging your long-grown hair out of your face. Gone were the days of your choppy short haircuts… those were saved for your children these days.

The bar thrummed with life. Regulars occupied their usual stools, their laughter mingling with the occasional outburst of an argument at the card tables. In the back, the booths were full of shadowy figures engaged in low murmurs—business of some kind, though you knew better than to pry. The jukebox—a salvaged relic Vander had restored—crooned a soothing melody that seemed to ground the chaos in a strange harmony. You glanced toward Vander, who was busy pouring drinks and trading hearty laughs with a group of miners fresh off their shift. He looked so at ease, so in his element, and it filled you with a quiet pride. This place, this grungy, vibrant heartbeat of the Undercity, was a testament to everything you’d built together.

Your eyes glanced up at the regular in front of you, and a familiar smile spread across your face. “Sevika!” you exclaimed, quickly getting to work preparing drink orders, your hands moving with the precision of years of practice. “Always a face I like to see. What can I get for you?”

Her muscles heaved as she laid down a pair of rusted mining gauntlets on the bar. The loud ‘thunk’ was enough to catch the attention of a couple of patrons nearby, and you paused for a moment, your eyes scanning the metal in front of you. The gauntlets were in terrible shape, cracked and worn in several places, barely holding together.

“The gauntlets work gave me are shit!” she exclaimed, reaching into her pocket to pull out a cigar. “Look at ‘em! You think I can do any work with these?”

You huffed, frustrated, and placed a glass of ale in front of the man who’d ordered it without so much as a glance. Continuing your well-practiced dance around the bar, you swiped up the heavy gauntlets with one hand, spinning them as you inspected their surface.

Sevika had grown into quite a broad-shouldered woman with sharp, calculating eyes, exuding an air of gruff confidence. Her dark bangs often fell into her face, only to be flicked back with practiced ease. She wore her scars like trophies, a testament to years of fighting and surviving in the Undercity.

“They’re getting sloppy in their neglect,” you agreed, nodding. “I’m gonna have to scrap most of this to get anything even remotely functional. What did you do with the old ones I made for you?”

Sevika rolled her eyes as she lit her cigar, flicking her dark bangs out of her face with practiced ease. “Some bullshit,” she muttered.

You hummed, the sound almost a laugh, then sent the gauntlets flying up to the second floor with a casual toss. “Seems to be a popular excuse for you these days, Sev. I’m gonna run out of cast iron before you give me a proper reason for all the metal I spend on you!”

Before you could complain too much more, she reached into her back pocket and slapped down a bag that jingled with coin. The sound caught your attention, and you gave her a small, approving nod before pocketing it.

“What can I get you to drink, Sev?” you asked, leaning back slightly as you caught your breath.

“The usual,” she replied, taking a long drag from her cigar. Without missing a beat, you reached for the moonshine. As you did, you felt a familiar large, warm hand on the small of your back that immediately drew your attention. As you poured the drink, Vander leaned and whispered into your ear, “Family meeting. Tonight. For now, gonna keep an eye on Huck.”

His tone told you everything you needed to know. Something was up. Ever the telepath, Sevika cocked an eyebrow at your exchange as Vander walked around you to the other side of the bar.

“That about the chaos happening topside?” Sevika asked, blowing a plume of smoke in your face. As you placed your last glass order on the tray, ready to take it out to the tables, you took a moment to lean against the counter across from one of your oldest friends. Even though the days of the fighting pits had long passed following Vander’s retirement, you always appreciated Sevika’s loyalty to the fight, even when she wasn’t beating the living daylights out of you two.

“Something to share with the class?” you asked, extending your hand. She handed you the cigar.

“Big explosion, some kind of fancy lab apparently. It’s got the Academy and the council with their panties in a twist.” You couldn’t help but let out a scoff as you began to breathe in the scorching bitterness of the cigar.

“Academy, huh? One of those fancy-pants students does something stupid and the Enforcers look to blame us somehow, huh?” you asked, the words flowing out of your mouth with a gust of dark smoke.

“That’s just it,” Sevika leaned in closer, “word in the mines is this wasn’t Academy work. And four shabby-looking children were seen running from the scene and across the bridge, giving the Enforcers a run for their money.” There was a familiar troubling glint in her eyes. “Remind you of some young people we know?”

Your blood ran cold, and your hand paused halfway to your lips. Before you could even take the huff, a string of curses in your mother tongue tumbled out from under your breath.

“Thought you’d say that,” she said, skillfully taking the cigar from your fingers. “May want to keep an eye on those kids of yours, Min. They take after you and Vander a little too much, if you ask me.”

“Oh, trust me,” you huffed, grabbing your tray and stepping out from behind the bar. “I’m well aware.”

As you made your rounds, placing drinks to their respective customers, your eyes trailed to the nearby booth where Huck, a small man with big, round, glasses and a newcomer to your ranks, sat alongside two gruff-looking Traders. The conversation seemed to not be going well from Huck’s perspective, the little man sweating bullets and shoving a bag of coin back in the direction of the Traders. 

Then one of them pulled out a dagger. 

Now, weapons weren’t not allowed in your bar, but fighting…that was another story. You were about to jump into action, moving to shelf the tray of drinks, when Vander appeared at the table, almost like clockwork. 

Vander, through your eyes, was a man transformed by the weight of years and the burdens he bore. In your memories of the old days, he was leaner, scrappier—his sharp jawline unmarred by the beard he now wore like a badge of wisdom. His arms, though strong even then, lacked the sheer bulk they carried now, built by years of hard labor and holding the Undercity together. Back then, his eyes burned with reckless defiance, a fire that matched the unruly mop of his hair. Now, that fire had softened into a steady, smoldering warmth, tempered by loss and responsibility.

The Vander of today bore scars he didn’t in those memories, not all of them visible. His frame had grown broader, his hands calloused from years of building, fighting, and protecting. The man who once thrived in chaos had become the embodiment of stability—his wide shoulders seemingly built to carry the weight of the entire Undercity. Yet, in quiet moments, you could still glimpse the younger man you’d fallen for, hiding behind the weathered mask of the protector he’d become.

Your eyes drifted to his forearm, where a worn leather brace held his arm snugly, concealing the scars beneath. The sight sent a pang through your chest—a wound that time had barely managed to dull. Memories of the incident flickered at the edges of your mind, unwelcome but persistent. You swallowed them down and refocused on the present.

The tension in the air crackled, his irritation radiating in waves. The heat of the conversation hadn’t faded from his stance, and the warning glint in his eye showed no signs of dulling. Sensing the moment stretching thin, you adjusted your grip on the tray, shifting its weight to one hand.

“A piece of advice,” your husband said, his tone light but edged with steel. “Don’t threaten the guy that pours the drinks.”

As if rehearsed, your free hand shot out in a fluid motion, fingers catching the hilt of the female trader’s dagger mid-air. The blade never reached its intended target. In the same breath, you sent it spinning from your grasp, its pointed edge embedding with a resounding thud in the wooden wall between her and Huck.

The room stilled, every eye darting toward the dagger quivering in the woodgrain. A beat passed, the Trader’s stunned faces whipping toward you in unison, then taking in the bar as a whole. Everyone was staring back at them, hands on their respective weapons. You responded with a slow, deliberate smile—warm and disarming, as if you hadn’t just neutralized a threat with practiced ease. With that, you turned on your heel, carrying the tray back toward the bar, leaving behind a silence thick and the faint tang of adrenaline in the air.

As you moved back toward the bar, the weight of their stares pressed against your back. It wasn’t unfamiliar—moments like these had become second nature over the years. Vander’s establishment, while a sanctuary for most, sometimes drew the wrong sort of attention. And that’s where you came in.

Vander had long since hung up his gloves, now hanging above the bar like a taxidermied deer head. Trading fists and fury for tankards and quiet resolve. The leader of a movement now settled into the role of a caretaker, he carried the weight of the Underground’s struggles in his steady hands. But peace came at a cost, and while Vander’s reputation kept most trouble at bay, there were always those too young, too reckless, or too arrogant to respect the man behind the bar.

That’s where the partnership worked.

You were the shadow to his steady presence, the sharp edge to his soft diplomacy. Where Vander sought compromise, you delivered consequences—swift and undeniable. He didn’t have to ask; you understood the line he walked, the weight of his need to keep the peace. And he trusted you to ensure that peace held firm, even if it meant taking up the violence he’d sworn to leave behind.

It wasn’t a role you’d ever expected to fill, but somewhere along the way, probably thanks to your history, it had become second nature. Equal partners, but in different ways. He handled the words, the diplomacy, the broader picture, while you handled the moments when words failed.

As you slid the tray back onto the counter, Vander’s gaze met yours from across the room. His brow furrowed in faint concern, a silent question in the tilt of his head. You answered with a subtle nod, a wordless assurance that everything was under control.

He exhaled, a soft sigh of relief, and you knew he trusted you completely. And why wouldn’t he? In this unspoken dance between the two of you, the roles were clear, the balance perfectly struck. He was the anchor, and you were the storm—two halves of the same whole, working to keep their fragile world intact.

Your moment of assurance was pulled away when the doors to the bar opened again. Rather than more patrons, however, in came four little heads, barely visible in the crowd. Vander and Vi locked eyes for a moment, barely a glance, before she lowered her head and hurried her shuffling through the crowd towards the apartment in the back that you all called home.

Well if that wasn’t an admission of guilt…

Your eyes locked with Sevika, who was watching this unhold with a studying gaze.

“Next drink on the house tomorrow if you help us close up for the night?” You asked, a pleading note to your voice.

“Make it three drinks.” She huffed, a cloud of smoke blowing out her nostrils like a dragon.

“Two.”

“Deal.”

***

It took the three of you all of ten minutes to get people paid and packed up. The moment patrons caught sight of the kids lingering near the edges of the room, most had gotten the message, hurriedly downing the rest of their drinks and calling it a night. You offered apologies as you went, though they were met with waves of dismissal. Many of them were parents themselves, quick to understand the situation and gracious in their departure. For that, you were endlessly thankful.

Once the last of the stragglers filtered out into the night, you leaned against the bar with a sigh, sparing a glance at the kids. A familiar warmth tugged at your chest, the kind that only they could inspire. Still, there was a recurring prayer that left your lips often, a silent entreaty to Mikael and your mother—how in the hell had they managed the four of you?

Four kids, each with a wild streak a mile wide. It must have been chaos, pure and unrelenting. And yet here you were, walking the same path they had, the echoes of your own childhood now played out in your day-to-day.

Not that you regretted a single moment of it.

The truth was, you loved your kids more than anything else in this world. From the moment they entered your lives, that love had been as fierce and unwavering as the tides. It was the kind of love that didn’t question, that didn’t hesitate. You would fight for them, bleed for them, die for them—and, if necessary, kill for them—without a second thought.

Parenting, you’d come to realize, was its own kind of adventure. An uncharted journey full of highs and lows, triumphs and mistakes, moments of wonder and sheer exhaustion. Watching them grow into their own people—each developing their own quirks, interests, strengths, and flaws—was unlike anything else you’d ever known.

It was amazing, really, though the word barely scratched the surface. No, it was more than that. It was profound, life-altering. An experience that changed you in ways you hadn’t thought possible, leaving you simultaneously humbled and awestruck at the enormity of it all.

And yet, as you watched one of the younger ones stifle a yawn, leaning sleepily against their sibling, you couldn’t help but smile. Parenthood might be chaos, but it was your chaos, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want to kill them sometimes.

As you and Vander crashed through the door to the little apartment that worked as the combination pantry and family gathering room, the room seemed to shake as four pairs of eyes flew up towards you.

"Everyone alright?" Vander’s voice broke through the chaos as you rushed down the stairs, your eyes scanning each of the kids for signs of injury. The familiar, jarring marks of a brawl—bruises, scrapes, and cuts—were written across their faces and limbs. You exhaled, relief coursing through you as you spotted Powder first. She stood trembling in the corner, wide-eyed and small, her messy blue hair sticking out at odd angles. Gone was the infant you had once seen crawl across the floor of her parents' cramped studio apartment. Now she was all elbows and knees, her limbs long and awkward, always in motion. Though her scrappiness was undeniable, you saw the girl who was still very much a child beneath the bravado, and you were thankful she seemed unharmed.

Your gaze shifted quickly, instinctively, to Claggor. The eldest of the group, your unexpected son. After the Bridge incident, when you and Vander had taken Powder and Vi in, Claggor had shown up a few days later, checking in on his cousins. His aunt had been the one caring for him, but a stray piece of shrapnel had torn through her during the conflict. She wasn’t even officially on the front lines. And that had been that—Claggor had joined your makeshift family without question, and though his quiet demeanor often made him seem older than his years, he had fit in seamlessly.

Now, kneeling next to him, you gently pushed his goggles up—once a fixture in your workshop, now more often used as spectacles—to reveal a nasty black eye. "Oh, my darlings," you muttered, your voice thick with concern as you hurried to the icebox to grab an ice pack.

The room around you seemed to sigh with familiarity, the mismatched couches and ragged armchairs arranged haphazardly around a low, battered table—each mark a testimony to the years you’d spent in this space. The dim lighting gave everything a soft, inviting glow, and the flickering shadows whispered of nights just like this one. Every crack in the walls, every corner worn smooth by time, told a story: of laughter, of hardship, of growth. It was small, humble, and perhaps not what you’d ever imagined for yourself, but it was home—your home, and theirs.

"Never better..." Mylo grumbled, sinking deeper into the worn chair beneath him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His voice was raspy, barely audible over the hum of the room. His deflection was classic Mylo—gruff on the outside, but you knew the layers beneath.

Much like Claggor, Mylo had been an unexpected addition to your family—but his story was... different. More personal.

After the Bridge, when everything had fallen apart, you’d found yourself volunteering at the makeshift hospital Dr. Yan had set up to tend to the wounded. You had been there, sorting through the chaos, offering what help you could, when you met Mylo’s father. A man who reminded you so much of Mikael—gentle, kind, and resilient in the face of the violence surrounding him. The two of you had spent hours talking, bonding over the quiet moments, the kind of shared history that could only be forged in the fires of war. But then, as often happens in places like that, things had gone awry.

An infection, unnoticed and unchecked in the frenzy of the overcrowded infirmary, had spread through him, and despite your best efforts, there was nothing to be done. He was gone too soon, leaving behind a five-year-old boy who had no one.

That had been the hardest part—watching the life drain from a good man, and knowing the ripple effect it would have. It was like losing your own parents all over again, so soon after burying what was left of their remains in the river. But the pain of that loss only deepened when Mylo was left orphaned and alone, with nowhere to turn.

At that point, you and Vander were already stretched thin. The tavern was barely holding together, and the kids were growing, needing more. The Mines were on the verge of losing Vander, too, as the chem-barons started cutting ties. Yet, despite it all, you both knew one thing for sure: you couldn’t turn away a child in need. You couldn’t leave him out there, abandoned and vulnerable, just because life was already hard enough.

So you took him in.

And despite the weight it added to your already full plates, despite the tightness in your chest whenever you saw Mylo’s hollow, haunted eyes, you never once regretted it. He was family. And there was no turning back once you'd made that choice. As you knelt down next to him, spotting some particularly bad bruising on his forearm, he wanked his arm away from you. Ever the drama queen. 

Vander marched down the stairs, his movements deliberate and controlled, his shoulders squared with the kind of resolve that only years of leadership could shape. As he descended, his gaze flicked over each of his children, his eyes narrowing with growing concern. “I don’t suppose you can explain why it is that I’m hearing about an explosion and a foot chase topside? Four children fleeing the scene…” His voice was low, the weight of his disappointment settling in the room. He paused behind Violet, his eldest, almost a grown woman now. She was a tomboy through and through—ripped jeans, scraped knees, and a defiant streak that matched her fiery spirit. The fearless leader of your little band of misfits.

Violet stood out amongst the kids—not just because of her leadership, but because she was the spitting image of her mother. Every day, she was a reminder of the promises you’d made to them long ago, promises that still lived within the depth of your heart.

“What were you thinking?” Vander finally huffed, the words heavy with both concern and frustration, after a long, pregnant pause.

“That we can handle a real job!” Violet exclaimed, her voice thick with frustration as she pulled her knees up to her chest, slumping further into the corner. The fire in her tone made it clear she wasn’t backing down, but the tension in her posture suggested an underlying fear she couldn’t quite shake.

“A real job?” Vander’s eyebrows furrowed, a mix of disbelief and worry flooding his expression.

“We got our own tip, planned a route, nobody even saw!” Violet was quick to explain, her voice rising slightly with the kind of conviction that made you proud but also terrified.

“Well, clearly someone saw.” You tutted, your tone soft yet pointed.

Vander’s sigh was deep, the sound heavy with annoyance and concern. “You blew up a building.” His voice was matter-of-fact, as if the severity of her actions should have been obvious.

“That wasn’t—” Violet started, but Vander cut her off, his tone sharp.

“Did you even stop to think about what could have happened to you? Eh?” He motioned to the rest of the kids, his gaze shifting over to Mylo, Claggor, and Powder. “To them?”

Violet straightened her shoulders, the defiance returning as she opened her mouth to retort, eager to defend herself. But then, as if struck by the weight of her father’s words, she hesitated. The fire in her eyes dimmed slightly, her resolve faltering. Slowly, she curled back into herself, pulling her knees tighter to her chest, her fist coming up to her lips as her gaze drifted to the side, avoiding Vander’s piercing eyes. The bravado evaporated, leaving her looking like the young girl she was—vulnerable, conflicted, and unsure of how to reconcile her actions with the love and protection her family offered. Vander massages the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re too young to be working jobs on your own,” you explain, your tone gentle yet firm as you crouch beside Mylo, gently urging him to let you examine his injuries. After several moments of coaxing, he finally allows you to take a look. “You’re not ready for that kind of danger and responsibility.”

Vander watches the interaction closely, his brow furrowed in thought. “Where did you even get this tip?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with concern.

No one answers immediately, the room hanging in tense silence. Then, finally, Powder’s small voice breaks the quiet.

“We just… heard it at Benzo’s shop.”

Benzo, you curse, biting back a roll of your eyes. 

“From?” Vander presses, his tone sharper this time.

Powder swallows hard, her gaze flickering between the two of you and Violet nervously before she speaks. “Little Man…”

Oh good, you think, another child putting themselves in harm’s way. Not that you’d expect anything less from the relentless spitfire that was Little Ekko.

Vander sighs deeply, his disappointment evident, but before he can launch into a lecture, Violet steps forward. She stands tall, her jaw set, and her gaze unwavering as she meets Vander’s gaze head-on. “I took us there,” she says firmly, her voice clear and resolute. “If you wanna be mad, be mad at me! But you're the one who always says we have to earn our place in this world!”

The air between them crackles with tension. Their gazes do not break from one another. Vander’s lips press into a thin line, his frustration evident as he contemplates Violet’s words. Despite his disapproval, he knows she isn’t entirely wrong. The weight of her defiance lingers in the air, but the spark in her eyes—so much like his own—gives him pause. He’s proud of her, even if he’s angry.

“Everyone out.” Vander’s voice is firm, a command more than a suggestion. The younger children, sensing the shift in tone, quickly begin to filter out of the room, their footsteps light but reluctant as they avoid the tension in the air. Powder lingers for a moment, glancing up at her sister, before following the others, leaving you and Vander alone.

You step closer to your husband, the quiet weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. With a soft but purposeful movement, you press your hand gently into his arm. Your gaze meets his, steady and understanding, the silent plea clear between you both. Go easy on her.

Vander’s shoulders tense for a moment, his jaw clenched in the familiar struggle between his protective instincts and the harsh realities of the world. He looks down at you, the storm of emotions in his eyes slowly quieting as he reads the depth of your unspoken words. With a deep, resigned sigh, he lets the tension leave his body, his head dipping slightly.

“I know,” he mutters, his voice softer now. 

You give Vander’s arm one last reassuring squeeze, grounding him for just a moment before you turn and follow the kids out of the room. The hallway feels quieter than usual, but the tension still clings to the air. Claggor slumps down onto the stairs, his tired body heavy as he holds the ice pack to his blackened eye. Mylo flings himself lazily against the wall, his posture exasperated, and Powder stays close to your shadow, her small form seeking comfort in your presence.

You pause for a moment, taking a steadying breath before speaking. "You’re sure you’re all okay?" you ask, one hand lowering to gently ruffle Powder’s messy hair, the action instinctive and soothing.

“We’re fine,” Mylo huffs, but there’s a noticeable edge to his voice. “Why is Vi getting reamed out? We were all there!”

You let out a quiet sigh, your breath held in the weight of it all as you take a deep breath, trying to keep the peace. You give Powder’s hair another ruffle, offering her some comfort. “Violet’s the oldest, which means she looks after you guys the most. You know that.”

“But it was all our faults,” Claggor agrees, his voice soft but resolute. “She doesn’t deserve to get yelled at just because we follow her.”

You offer a half-smile, looking at them with quiet affection before turning to challenge them. “Who says she’s getting yelled at?”

“Vander seemed really mad…” Powder mutters, her hands stuffed into her pockets as she keeps her eyes on the floor, a little too nervous to meet your gaze.

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation light despite the weight of it. “Hell,” Mylo interrupts, stepping forward with fire in his eyes, “if anyone should be getting yelled at, it’s her!” He jabs a finger in the direction of the littlest child, and Powder flinches at the sharpness of his words.

“Mylo!” Claggor barks, his voice raising in defense of his younger sister. “Quit it already.”

You feel the tension tightening, the rising conflict, and for a brief moment, everything slows. You look down at Powder, your gaze turning inquisitive as you weigh the situation, your mind quickly working through the pieces of the puzzle. “Woah, woah, what happened?”

The hallway falls into a charged silence after your stern interruption, Mylo glaring down at Powder, his jaw set in frustration. His voice breaks the quiet first.

“She goes off on her own, then a big explosion happens? That’s one hell of a coincidence,” he accuses, his tone sharp. “She’s always messing up jobs, and she never has to face any of the consequences! Then when shit hits the fan, she runs away and loses our haul!”

“I didn’t even do anything!” Powder snaps back, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides. “And I told you, I tried to fight back!”

The tension detonates. Mylo raises his voice, Powder yells louder in defense, and Claggor steps in, his own protests escalating until the hallway echoes with their overlapping arguments. The noise grows into chaos, and you’ve had enough.

“Hey!” Your voice cuts through the din like a blade, sharp and commanding. The arguing ceases immediately, and all three children snap their eyes toward you. You stand tall, your arms crossed, your expression steely—a look Vander had once said was the spitting image of your mother’s infamous glare.

“All of you, stop it. This is not how you communicate with people,” you scold, your voice calm but firm. Your gaze settles on Powder first, softening just a touch. “Pow-Pow, I’ll be talking with you separately. Go ahead for now; I’ll find you later.”

Powder hesitates, her blue eyes flicking to her brothers and then back to you. She looks small, fragile in her apprehension, but with a quiet nod, she slips away toward the back door without another word.

Your attention shifts to Mylo, and your stern expression hardens again. You cross your arms tighter over your chest. “You, on the other hand…what the hell, Mylo? She’s a kid. Take it easy on her.”

Mylo scoffs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Everyone always says to take it easy on her just ’cause she’s the baby! She’s not going to learn that way, you know.”

“And she’s not going to learn with you getting on her case every time she messes up,” you counter, your voice unwavering. You motion toward the door Powder just walked through. “I get that you’re angry. We’ve all had jobs go sideways. But dividing your team in a bad moment? That’s going to sow resentment that’ll bite you later. Trust me on that.”

Mylo stands there, his jaw working as he absorbs your words in reluctant silence. Sensing a shift, you uncross your arms and step closer, placing a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t brush it away, though his expression remains stormy.

“You want to know why Vander is talking to Vi separately?” you ask, your tone softening. “It’s because he knows what it’s like to have everyone looking up to him, just like Vi has you guys looking up to her. He’s making sure she knows what she’s doing so none of you get hurt. It’s a big responsibility, Mylo. And it’s not easy. That’s why you’ve got to trust her—and us—to handle things like discipline. You have a problem, bring it up with us. But don’t start lecturing unless you’re ready to take on everything that comes with being a leader. Got it?”

His defiance cracks just a little, his eyes falling to the floor. “Fine…” he mumbles after a long moment.

You give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before pulling him into a tight hug. At first, he stiffens, his dramatic nature still bristling, but then he slowly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

Extending one arm, you wave Claggor over, and he joins the hug wordlessly, sinking into the warmth of your embrace. You press a gentle kiss to each of their heads, your heart swelling with affection despite the chaos of the day.

“I’m so proud of you guys for trying to step up, okay?” you murmur, your voice soft but sincere. “Just…maybe talk to us next time before you go remaking our teenage mistakes.”

As the chaos begins to settle, replaced with an uneasy peace, the door behind you creaks open again. Vander steps out, his presence filling the space like a tidal wave, a lumpy burlap sack slung over one broad shoulder. His sharp eyes sweep over the three of you, lingering briefly on each of the children before coming to rest on you.

“Everything alright out here?” he asks, his gravelly voice tinged with an edge of exhaustion.

You let go of the boys with a final squeeze and straighten up, offering him a small, knowing smile. “Peachy,” you reply, brushing off the tension that still clung to the air.

“Good,” Vander says gruffly, though his eyes soften slightly before he turns his attention to Claggor. Without warning, he tosses the sack toward him. “Get ready, Claggor. We’re going out.”

Claggor catches it with a surprised grunt, nearly dropping it before managing to steady the weight in his arms. “Now?” he groans, his voice carrying that distinct teenage whine of someone not quite ready to accept their fate.

Vander doesn’t respond right away, instead stepping toward Mylo and deftly plucking the earhorn from his belt.

“Hey!” Mylo exclaims, his tone indignant as he fumbles to grab it back. “That’s mine!”

Vander doesn’t miss a beat, tossing the horn into the burlap sack with a clatter. His gaze pins Mylo in place, a mix of authority and challenge gleaming in his eyes. “You want to be treated like adults, right?” he asks, his voice measured but firm. “Then you should know better than to come back from a job empty-handed.”

Mylo opens his mouth to argue but seems to think better of it, crossing his arms with a dramatic huff instead. Beside him, Claggor adjusts his grip on the sack, looking somewhere between resigned and curious.

You raise an eyebrow at Vander, folding your arms as you lean back slightly against the banister. “Benzo’s?” you ask knowingly.

“Yup,” Vander replies with a curt nod, straightening the lapels of his worn jacket as if gearing up for battle. His expression hardens, and there’s a glint of something dangerous in his eyes—protectiveness laced with frustration. He turns back to the boys, his voice dropping to that low, warning tone they all know too well. “I’m gonna have a little word with your informant.”

FORMULA 1

key: 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 - ❀║𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚞 - ✿║𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 - ☆║𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎 - ❁

KINKTOBER ‘24

f1 grid

𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢, 𝚜𝚎𝚝, 𝚜𝚞𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚊 𝚊𝚖 𝚒 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎? ❀ 𝟸 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

"𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞" ❁

"𝚒'𝚖 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝" ✿

"𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚍?" ✿

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚌 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝟷 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚍 ✿

"𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎?" ❁

"𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌?" ❁

𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢 ❁

𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢, 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢 ❁

"𝚋𝚊𝚎 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐" ✿

"𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍" ✿

"𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍" 𝚙𝚝 𝟸 ✿

"𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍?!" ❁

𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 ❁

𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ❁

"𝚖𝚖𝚖 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝' 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗' 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎" ❁

"𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚖!"

"𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚜?!" ❁ NEW

𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 ❁ NEW

"𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊....𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎?" - coming soon!

"𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚊𝚝" - coming soon!

lewis hamilton

"𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚜" ✿

𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 + 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 ❀

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜 ✿

𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 ✿ ❀

"𝙿𝟷 𝙱𝙰𝙱𝚈" ☆ ❀

𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚎 - coming soon!

charles leclerc

𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚘 ❀

𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 ✿

𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 ❀

"𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎?!" ✿

𝚖𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚒! - coming soon!

carlos sainz

"𝚠𝚑𝚘'𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑" ✿

"𝚖𝚒 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚗̃𝚊" ❀

𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎 ✿

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 ❀

max verstappen

𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜 ❀ NEW

oscar piastri

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚘 ❀

𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ☆ ❀

lando norris

𝟷𝚟𝟷

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

folded ✸ jww

warnings. cursing? thats pretty much it | masterlist

📞 love GRAMs: @seokmn @wonkierideul @kissbyoon @paradiseoflosers @savemyheart101

ੈ✩ love island (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x reader

tw : fluff; suggestive, tiny tiny angst, jealousy love island coupling, mentions of other celebs as cast, kissing pictures

fc : Jung HoYeon

a/n : AHHH! THIS IDEA WAS IN MY HEAD FOR SOO LONG ! also did y’all really think just because s2 is here, we are going to forget the main s1 simp? She is so pretty, I can’t -

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by user1, user2 , lando and 347,387 others

loveislanduk @ lando JOINS US FOR THIS SEASON !!!!

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user1 that's it. I am dead

user2 seeing landhoe being more hoey?

user3 BRO IS DOING EVERYTHING AS A SID E HUSTLE

user4 fuck paddock, I am going on a padi vacation

user5 SHIRTLESS LANDO 25X8 !?!?

user6 does mclaren even know !?

user7 THE SAUCY CHALLENGES YALL !?

user8 so you are telling me, he is going to cheat on Carlos !?

user9 I would love to see the grid’s reaction…

user10 I can imagine max saying simply lovely

liked by user1, jennieruby, user2 and 836,297 others

sojuyn ig survival shows are my thing

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user1 MOTHER IS GOING TO LOVE ISLAND !?

user2 she went to the final of squid games, what’s this for her ? 💀

user3 I just love how her pics are serving like always

jennieruby AHHH! can't wait to see you there xooxo

liked by sojuyn

user4 Y/N, DONT SHOW YOUR SEXY SELF To others 😔

user5 can't believe we can't gatekeep the hottie anymore 😔

liked by charlesleclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,366,872 others

lando Getting that British island 💪🏻💂

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carlossainz55 can’t believe you are going there

lando you have Rebecca !!

carlossainz55 I get it Lando, no need.

maxverstappen1 simple lovely mate

georgerussell getting over the championship defeat ?

lando getting over your gay ass ?

georgerussell it’s called being a diva

mclaren we weren't informed, Lando.

lando random applications i guess 😃

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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,357,827 others

loveislanduk the first episode just premiered!

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user1 HELLO THE CAST !?

user2 so you are telling me, Lando, Jude Bellingham, hjevelyn and BRYCE HALL !?!?

user3 HOW DID BRYCE HALL SPAWN HERE !?

user4 HJEVELYN 😍😍

user5 Y/NNNN 😍😍😍😍

user6 I see admin has a favorite, already posting lando and y/n 😃

user7 Is this some sport island season !?

user8 the amount of celebs !?!?

user9 WHY DO YOU HAVE TO TORTURE ME FOR ONE WEEK BEFORE RELEASING MORE

user10 I am here for the drama

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,365,467 others

loveisland raise your ya ya ya - heart!. The saucy challenge is only available on episode 2 🤭

view comments

user1 the caption is killing me 🐸

user2 DID WE ALL SEE LANDO AND Y/N!?

user3 LANDO'S HEART ROSE TO 140!?

user4 IS THAT EVEN SAFE !?!?

user5 we could see jude burning eyes into lando-

user6 THE FIRST COUPLING WAS SOGOOD

user7 I think it was obvious that y/n and lando will couple up-

user8 i can sense lando-yn-jude

user9 jude was not happy when lando picked yn

user10 the face when jude had to couple with magui-

liked by sojuyn, user1, user2 and 1,934,267 others

lando hideaway 😗

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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,763,278 others

loveislanduk @ lando debriefs with the guys, before grabbing @ judebellingham for a quick chat !

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user1 lando said no one messes with my girl

user2 ngl, those two look good together

user3 we seeing a lot of bromance

user4 i feel the connection between them

user5 istg if they dump the girls and be togther -

user6 POWER COUPLE

user7 yn with the richest and handsome men after her

user8 oh to be her 😔

user9 magui is not going to like this

user10 imagine jude coupling with her next week

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 2,463,274 others

loveislanduk the third episode started with drama! @ sojuyn was splashed by @ maguicorceiro for apparently lip locking her couple up @ judebellingham, @ Lando does not look much happy ! Tune in for episode 3 !!

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user1 and i-

user2 LANDO LOOKS ANGRY

user3 not kando turning into max by wearing mclaren merch-

user4 I am not even there but I can clearly see that that's not yn!!

user5 it is jude, but not with yn

user6 ITS EVELYN

user7 oh my gosh, ITS EVELYN AND JUDE!!

user8 YN IS LOYAL TO LANDO

user9 magui really wants lando

user10 just because they both are Asians -

part2...?

let me know if you want to be added or removed to the tg!

permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @nichmeddar @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx

fic tg: @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @ilivbullyingjeongin

Fated to Love You || Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: Idol Scoups X Solo Idol Y/n Genre: Romance/Angst/Second chance romance/Drama Plot: After a highly publicized breakup with Seungcheol, Y/n finds herself caught between the past and the present as she navigates love, heartbreak, and the pressures of fame. With the world watching her every move, unexpected encounters, media scandals, and unresolved emotions complicate her journey. As tensions rise and feelings resurface, she is faced with a choice—one that could change everything. Authors note: Hey everyone! I know it’s been a while since I last posted, but I’m finally back with a new story! I’ve put a lot of effort into this one, and I really hope you all give it a chance. Writing this wasn’t easy, but your support always keeps me going. Thank you so much for your patience and for sticking with me—I truly appreciate it! Please keep commenting; your words inspire me more than you know. Hope you enjoy the story! Love you guys 💕✨

Comment which is your favourite part of the story

And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other group

The bustling chaos of the airport filled Y/n’s senses. She pulled her cap lower over her face and adjusted her sunglasses, hoping to slip past unnoticed. It was her first public appearance since announcing the cancellation of her engagement, and she knew the media frenzy that awaited her.

But the fans were relentless. As she walked toward the departure gate, a small crowd gathered around her, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of questions.

“Y/n! Is it true you and Seungcheol broke up because of Sewon?”

“Do you regret ending the engagement?”

“What happened between you and Seungcheol?”

Y/n stopped in her tracks, her heart pounding. She forced a calm expression, though her hands trembled as she gripped the strap of her bag.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be answering any personal questions today,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The cameras continued to flash, and the murmurs grew louder, but Y/n kept walking. Her chest tightened with every step, each question cutting deeper than she cared to admit. By the time she reached her gate, she felt like she could barely breathe.

Finding a quiet corner, she slumped into a seat and closed her eyes, willing the tears to stay hidden. The echoes of the fans’ words lingered in her mind, reopening wounds she thought she had begun to heal. But as painful as it was, Y/n reminded herself why she had made the decision to walk away. It was for her own peace, her own worth things she refused to compromise any longer.

Seungcheol stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over Y/n’s contact. He had hesitated so many times before, unsure if she would even want to hear from him. But tonight, the emptiness in his apartment felt unbearable, and he couldn’t shake the need to hear her voice.

Taking a deep breath, he pressed the call button. The line rang, each tone dragging out the silence he dreaded. Finally, the call went to voicemail.

“Hey, Y/n,” he began, his voice low and uncertain. “It’s me. I… I just wanted to check on you. I know I don’t have the right to ask, but I hope you’re doing okay. I miss you."

He paused, the words catching in his throat.

“I… I’m sorry for everything. I hope someday we can talk. Take care, Y/n.”

Ending the call, Seungcheol let out a shaky breath and set the phone down. The emptiness lingered, but for the first time, he felt a flicker of hope—however small—that things might one day be different.

A day later, Seungcheol sat in front of his phone camera, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. He had debated for hours about making this video, but the backlash Y/n was facing left him no choice.

Pressing record, he took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Hi, this is Seungcheol. I know a lot has been said and speculated about my relationship with Y/n and the engagement we ended. I want to start by saying that Y/n has always been someone I deeply respect and care for. The decision we made to part ways was mutual, and it was a deeply personal matter.”

He paused, his eyes glancing down briefly before returning to the camera. “But what I cannot stand by and watch is the way she’s being harassed and blamed. Y/n does not deserve the hate or the accusations being thrown at her. She made the decision that was best for her, and I respect that wholeheartedly.”

Seungcheol leaned forward slightly, his tone growing firmer. “I also want to address the rumors about Sewon. She is a friend, nothing more. Any assumptions beyond that are untrue and have caused unnecessary pain to everyone involved.”

He exhaled slowly, as if releasing the weight of his words. “I’m asking, sincerely, for everyone to stop harassing Y/n. She deserves peace and privacy, just as any of us do. Please be kind. Thank you.”

With that, he ended the recording and uploaded the video, hoping it would help ease the storm Y/n was facing. As he sat back, he realized that while he couldn’t undo the past, he could at least try to make things right in the present.

Two days later, Seungcheol found himself dialing Y/n’s number once again. To his surprise, this time, she answered.

“Hello?” Y/n’s voice was calm but distant, guarded.

“Y/n,” Seungcheol said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Thank you for answering. I just… I needed to talk to you.”

She remained silent, and he took it as his cue to continue. “I know I hurt you. I know I let you down in ways I can’t even begin to make up for. But I want you to know how sorry I am. Truly. You didn’t deserve any of this—the doubts, the pain, the public scrutiny. None of it.”

“Seungcheol,” she interrupted, her tone sharp yet composed. “I didn’t answer this call to hear your apology. I’ve heard it before. What I needed from you was action, not words. And you failed me when it mattered most.”

He swallowed hard, the weight of her words cutting through him. “I know. I just… I hoped there might be a way to fix this. To fix us.”

“There’s no fixing this,” Y/n said firmly. “Not anymore. I gave everything to this relationship, and I lost myself in the process. I won’t do that again.”

Her words were final, and Seungcheol felt his chest tighten. “I understand,” he said quietly. “I just want you to be happy, Y/n. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I hope you find happiness too,” she replied

Three years ago

Under the bright lights of Y/n’s solo concert, Seungcheol and the members of Seventeen stood backstage, waiting for the show to begin. The crowd’s energy was electric, and their excitement mirrored the audience’s.

When Y/n finally took the stage, she owned it. Her presence was magnetic, her voice captivating as she performed with a passion that seemed to radiate beyond the stage. Seungcheol found himself mesmerized, his admiration growing with every song.

“She’s incredible,” Jeonghan whispered, nudging him. “No wonder everyone’s in love with her.”

Seungkwan nodded enthusiastically. “She’s not just talented; she’s got this aura. It’s impossible not to admire her.”

As Y/n finished her set and thanked the audience, her smile was radiant, lighting up the entire arena. Seungcheol couldn’t help but feel a spark of something deeper—a connection he couldn’t quite explain.

When they were finally introduced backstage, Y/n was gracious and warm despite the exhaustion evident in her eyes. She greeted each member with genuine kindness, and when her gaze met Seungcheol’s, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“You were amazing out there,” he said, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest.

“Thank you,” she replied, her smile soft and sincere. “I’ve heard so much about you and your group. It’s an honor to finally meet you all.”

That night, Seungcheol found himself lingering after the others had left, gathering the courage to speak again. “Y/n,” he began, his voice quieter this time, “I was wondering… if you’d like to grab coffee sometime. Just us.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly, surprise flickering across her face. Then, she smiled—a real, genuine smile that made his heart race. “I’d like that,” she said simply.

And so, it began. Coffee turned into late-night conversations, shared laughter, and a deep bond that grew stronger with each passing day. For Seungcheol, falling in love with Y/n was as natural as breathing, and in her presence, he felt like he had found a kindred spirit. The world seemed brighter, and the burdens of their demanding careers felt lighter when they were together.

Though their love story had its share of challenges, those early days were a reminder of the connection that had once brought them so much joy. And even now, as Seungcheol reflected on everything they had lost, he couldn’t help but cherish the moments that had made him fall in love with her in the first place.

As their coffee meetings turned into a weekly ritual, Seungcheol found himself looking forward to those moments more than anything else. Y/n had a way of making him laugh, even on his worst days. She listened intently, offering advice when he needed it and silence when words weren’t enough.

One evening, after a particularly long day of rehearsals, Seungcheol showed up at their favorite cafe, his exhaustion evident. Y/n noticed immediately and pushed a steaming cup of tea toward him.

“You look like you’ve been through a war,” she teased gently.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Something like that. But seeing you makes it all worth it.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she hid it behind her own cup. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Choi Seungcheol.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he replied with a playful smirk. “It got me here with you, didn’t it?”

Their banter flowed effortlessly, the connection between them growing deeper with every interaction. Over time, Seungcheol began to realize that Y/n wasn’t just someone he admired—she was someone he wanted by his side, through every high and low.

One night, as they walked along a quiet street after another coffee date, Seungcheol stopped abruptly. Y/n turned to him, puzzled.

“What is it?” she asked.

He hesitated, his heart pounding. Then, he took a deep breath. “Y/n, I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a short time, but… I like you. A lot. And I was wondering if you’d give us a chance—like, a real chance.”

Y/n stared at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, he feared he had ruined everything. But then she smiled, her eyes softening.

“I’d like that,” she said simply.

Relief and joy washed over Seungcheol, and without thinking, he reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed his hand gently, and they continued walking, their steps perfectly in sync.

It was the beginning of a love story that would change both of their lives forever.

Three years into their relationship, Seungcheol knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted Y/n to know how deeply she meant to him and how much he wanted to build a future together. With the help of the Seventeen members, he meticulously planned the proposal.

The venue was a private rooftop garden, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and surrounded by blooming flowers. It was the same place they had shared their first late-night conversation about their dreams and fears. Seungcheol wanted the moment to feel intimate, just as their relationship had always been—a sanctuary from the chaotic world around them.

Y/n arrived at the venue under the pretense of a casual date. As she stepped onto the rooftop, her breath hitched at the sight before her. A path lined with candles led to Seungcheol, who stood waiting under an arch draped in soft, white fabric and flowers.

He smiled nervously as she approached, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “You’re here,” he said, his voice tinged with both excitement and nerves.

“What is all this?” she asked, her eyes glimmering with curiosity and emotion.

Taking a deep breath, Seungcheol dropped to one knee, pulling out a small velvet box from his pocket. Y/n gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart. “From the moment I met you, you turned my world upside down in the best way possible. You’ve been my rock, my partner, and my greatest love. Every day with you feels like a gift, and I can’t imagine my life without you by my side.”

He opened the box, revealing a delicate ring that sparkled under the soft glow of the lights. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.

Tears streamed down Y/n’s face as she nodded, unable to find the words. “Yes,” she finally managed to say, her voice breaking. “A thousand times yes.”

Seungcheol stood, slipping the ring onto her finger before pulling her into a tight embrace. The sound of soft applause broke out as the Seventeen members emerged from their hiding spots, cheering and congratulating the newly engaged couple.

The night was filled with laughter, love, and promises for the future. For Seungcheol and Y/n, it was a moment they would treasure forever—a testament to the love that had grown between them, steady and unwavering, through every challenge and triumph.

But as the weeks passed, cracks began to appear in their seemingly perfect engagement. It started when Seungcheol grew closer to Sewon, a fellow idol he had known for years. Initially, Y/n didn’t mind; she trusted Seungcheol and knew how important friendships were in their industry. But gradually, his priorities seemed to shift.

Missed calls, delayed responses, and canceled plans became more frequent. Whenever Y/n tried to address the issue, Seungcheol brushed it off, claiming he was busy with group schedules and projects. However, Y/n couldn’t ignore the pattern: most of his excuses coincided with him spending time with Sewon.

One evening, after yet another postponed dinner, Y/n decided to confront him. She waited for him in their shared apartment, her heart heavy with unease. When he finally walked through the door, his tired expression did little to soften her resolve.

“Seungcheol, we need to talk,” she said firmly.

He sighed, dropping his bag onto the couch. “Can it wait? I’m exhausted.”

“No, it can’t,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly. “You’ve been distant lately, and I feel like I’m not even a priority anymore. What’s going on?”

He rubbed his temples, frustration flickering across his face. “Y/n, I told you, it’s just work. You know how demanding our schedules are.”

“Is it work?” she pressed, her eyes searching his. “Or is it Sewon?”

At her words, Seungcheol’s expression hardened. “Why are you bringing her into this? She’s just a friend.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m competing with her for your attention?” Y/n’s voice cracked, the pain she had been suppressing spilling out. “You cancel our plans to meet her, you talk about her all the time, and you don’t even see how it’s affecting us.”

“You’re overthinking this,” he snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. “Sewon has nothing to do with us. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Y/n took a step back, stunned by his dismissiveness. “Nothing?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you even hear yourself, Seungcheol? I’ve tried to be patient, to understand, but I can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to choose us,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “But it feels like you’ve already made your choice.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavily between them. Seungcheol opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself. Instead, he turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving Y/n standing alone in the living room, her heart breaking.

The days that followed were filled with strained conversations and unspoken tension. Y/n tried to hold on, hoping that Seungcheol would realize what was at stake, but his continued indifference only deepened the rift between them. Meanwhile, the rumors about him and Sewon began to spread, fueled by fan speculation and media reports.

Y/n found herself caught in a storm of doubt and heartbreak, unsure of how to salvage a relationship that seemed to be slipping through her fingers. And as much as she loved Seungcheol, she couldn’t ignore the growing feeling that she was fighting for something he no longer valued.

One rainy afternoon, Y/n received a message from Seungcheol, asking to meet at a small café they used to frequent during the early days of their relationship. Despite her reservations, she agreed, hoping for clarity amidst the chaos.

As she entered the café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of soft jazz music greeted her. Seungcheol was already there, sitting at a corner table, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug. His eyes lit up when he saw her, but there was a hesitance in his gaze.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as she sat down across from him.

Y/n nodded, folding her hands on the table. “What did you want to talk about?”

Seungcheol sighed, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his mug. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us… about everything.”

“And?” Y/n prompted, her heart pounding in anticipation.

“I don’t think I’m ready for marriage,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I’m too young. There’s so much going on in my career, and I feel like I’m being pulled in so many directions.”

Y/n stared at him, her chest tightening. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Before proposing?”

“I thought I could handle it,” he said, his eyes filled with regret. “I thought my love for you would be enough to overcome everything else. But now, I’m not so sure.”

Her lips trembled as she spoke. “Do you even want to be with me, Seungcheol? Or am I just another thing you’re unsure about?”

“Of course I want to be with you,” he said quickly, reaching across the table for her hand. She pulled away, shaking her head.

“You can’t have it both ways,” she said, her voice breaking. “You can’t ask me to commit my life to you while you’re unsure about yours.”

Her voice was sharper now, the edge of frustration cutting through. “Is it about Sewon?”

Seungcheol’s silence spoke louder than words. Sewon’s name had become a sore point between them in recent months. A close friend and fellow idol, her bond with Seungcheol had always been evident. While Y/n had trusted him implicitly, the whispers of fans and the media began to seep into her mind, planting seeds of doubt.

“She’s just a friend,” he said, but his tone lacked conviction. “You know that.”

“Do I?” Y/n’s voice cracked, betraying the pain she had tried so hard to mask. “Do you realize how it feels to constantly see her by your side, laughing with you, leaning on you? And the worst part? You’ve never once tried to reassure me."

Seungcheol reached across the table, his hand hovering over hers. “I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m the only one fighting for this relationship?” She pulled her hand away, tears threatening to spill. “We’re supposed to be partners, Seungcheol. But lately, it feels like I’m competing for your attention.”

“Maybe… maybe we need some time apart,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n felt her heart shatter. The engagement ring on her finger suddenly felt like a burden, its brilliance mocking her pain. She slipped it off and placed it on the table between them.

“If that’s what you want,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “Then I won’t stop you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

Y/n felt her heart shatter. The engagement ring on her finger suddenly felt like a burden, its brilliance mocking her pain. She slipped it off and placed it on the table between them.

Y/n stood, her chair scraping against the floor. “You already have.” Without another word, she walked out of the café, leaving Seungcheol sitting alone, the weight of his choices pressing down on him like never before.

*Flashback ends*

In the weeks that followed, Y/n channeled her heartbreak into her music. Late nights in the studio became her solace as she poured her emotions into lyrics and melodies. Each song she wrote was raw and vulnerable, capturing the pain, confusion, and longing she felt.

When her album was released, it became an instant hit, resonating with fans and critics alike. Tracks like "Falling Out of Love" and "Shadows of Us" topped the charts, their haunting lyrics striking a chord with listeners. In interviews, Y/n remained composed, describing the album as a reflection of her personal journey but never delving into specific details about her relationship with Seungcheol.

One particular song, "Unspoken Goodbye," drew widespread attention. Its lyrics painted a vivid picture of unreciprocated efforts and the ache of realizing love wasn’t enough to hold two people together.

“I reached for you in the dark, but you were already gone. Promises turned to whispers, and now I sing alone.”

Fans speculated endlessly, piecing together clues from the lyrics and her recent public appearances. Some sympathized with her, while others continued to draw comparisons between her and Sewon, fueling debates online.

Through it all, Y/n remained focused on her craft, using her art to heal. Though her heart was still mending, her music gave her

Months after the release, Y/n was invited for an exclusive interview with a renowned media outlet. The interviewer, known for their probing questions, eventually brought up the topic that many were curious about.

“How do you feel about Seungcheol now?” they asked, leaning forward slightly. “After everything that’s happened, do you still think about him?”

Y/n paused, her hands resting gently on her lap as she considered her words. She met the interviewer’s gaze, her expression calm but tinged with melancholy. “A piece of my heart will always love him,” she admitted, her voice steady but soft. “I could never hate him. He was a significant part of my life, and what we shared was real and meaningful.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “It hurts me to see him getting hurt. Despite everything, I don’t wish pain or hardship upon him. I think that’s what love truly is—wanting the best for someone, even if they’re no longer in your life.”

Her candid response resonated with fans and viewers alike, painting a picture of grace and emotional maturity. It reminded everyone that even in heartbreak, love could leave behind a legacy of compassion and understanding.

Seungcheol watched the interview late at night, alone in his apartment. Her words echoed in his mind, filling him with a mix of regret and longing. The song, the interview, everything she had shared publicly—it all made him realize just how deeply he had hurt her and how much he missed having her in his life.

On an impulse, he picked up his phone and dialed her number. It rang twice before she answered, her voice cautious. “Hello?”

“Y/n, it’s me,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I—I saw the interview. And the song. I just… I needed to tell you how sorry I am. For everything.”

She was silent for a moment before responding. “Seungcheol, we’ve already been through this. I’ve moved on, and you should too.”

“I know I messed up,” he said desperately. “But seeing you, hearing your words—it reminded me of everything we had. I miss you, Y/n. I miss us.”

Her voice remained calm but firm. “You miss what we had, Seungcheol, but that doesn’t change what you did. You made choices that hurt me deeply, and I can’t just forget that.”

“I’ll do anything to make it right,” he pleaded. “Please, just give me another chance.”

She sighed softly, her tone filled with a mixture of sadness and finality. “Sometimes, love isn’t enough. I’ll always wish the best for you, but I can’t go back to the way things were. Take care of yourself, Seungcheol.”

Before he could say anything else, she ended the call, leaving him staring at his phone, the weight of her words sinking in. For the first time, he truly understood that some things, no matter how much he wished otherwise, couldn’t be undone.

Months passed, and Y/n eventually entered a new relationship. Her new boyfriend was kind, understanding, and patient—everything she thought she needed to heal. On the surface, they seemed happy together, and the public saw it as her fresh start.

But deep down, Y/n couldn’t shake the emptiness she felt. The laughter didn’t feel as genuine, the conversations didn’t spark the same warmth, and despite her efforts to move on, her heart still ached for the love she had lost.

She found herself reminiscing about Seungcheol more often than she cared to admit—his bright smile, the way he always made her feel safe, the late-night talks where they dreamed about their future together. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, a part of her still belonged to him.

And no matter how much she wanted to forget, she couldn’t.

One evening, Y/n took the stage at a major rock festival, her energy electrifying the crowd. She had always loved experimenting with different genres, and this performance was one of her most powerful yet—raw, intense, and full of emotion. She poured her heart into every note, her voice carrying the weight of everything she had been through.

Backstage, her old friend Seungkwan watched from the wings, deeply moved by her performance. He had always been close to Y/n and seeing her like this—fierce yet fragile—made him realize how much she was still hurting.

Unable to ignore it any longer, he reached out to Seungcheol. “Hyung, you need to come see her. You need to hear her.”

Despite his initial hesitation, Seungcheol agreed. The two arrived at the concert venue unnoticed, blending into the sea of fans as Y/n performed.

Seungcheol’s heart clenched as he watched her under the bright lights, singing her heart out. He could feel her pain in every lyric, see the lingering sadness in her eyes. It was a painful reminder of everything they had lost.

And in that moment, he realized—he had never stopped loving her.

The moment Y/n stepped off the stage, her adrenaline was still pumping. The roar of the crowd echoed in her ears, but even their deafening cheers couldn’t drown out the heaviness in her heart. She barely had time to catch her breath before a familiar voice cut through the haze.

“Y/n.”

She froze.

That voice. That tone.

She turned slowly, her eyes widening as she met Seungcheol’s gaze. He stood just a few feet away, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those same eyes she once drowned in—were filled with something raw. Something she wasn’t ready to face.

Before she could say a word, her boyfriend Minseong appeared by her side, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, glancing between Y/n and Seungcheol.

The tension was suffocating. The members of Seventeen and her own group lingered nearby, uneasy, unsure if they should step in.

Seungcheol let out a bitter chuckle, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So this is him?” His voice was sharp, edged with something close to resentment. “The guy you moved on with?”

Y/n’s jaw clenched. “Cheol—”

“Did he ever make your heart race the way I did?” Seungcheol asked, his voice rising. “Or did you just force yourself to move on because you were scared?”

The room fell silent.

Y/n took a shaky breath, her eyes burning. “You don’t get to do this,” she snapped. “You don’t get to walk back into my life after all this time and question my choices. You were the one who let me go.”

Seungcheol stepped closer, his frustration bubbling over. “Let you go? Y/n, you walked away!” His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, the anger wavered, revealing the hurt beneath. “You left me. And now you’re here, acting like none of it meant anything?”

“It meant everything,” she shot back, her voice trembling. “And that’s exactly why I had to leave.”

Her boyfriend shifted awkwardly beside her. “Maybe we should talk about this later—”

“No.” Y/n shook her head, eyes locked onto Seungcheol. “You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the only one who suffered. Do you think it was easy for me? Do you think I didn’t spend nights wondering if I made the right choice?”

Seungcheol’s breath hitched.

Y/n’s hands balled into fists. “I waited, Cheol. I waited for you to fight for me, to give me a reason to stay. But you didn’t. You let me leave. So don’t you dare show up now, acting like you still have a say in my life.”

Seungcheol stared at her, chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he wanted to say. The members of Seventeen shifted uneasily, exchanging glances.

Seungkwan finally stepped in, his voice gentle but firm. “Hyung, maybe this isn’t the right time—”

But Seungcheol ignored him. His eyes stayed on Y/n, desperate, pleading. “Tell me one thing,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you really happy?”

Y/n faltered.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

And in that silence, Seungcheol got his answer.

The morning after the heated confrontation backstage, the internet was in chaos. News outlets, gossip sites, and social media platforms were flooded with headlines, each twisting the story in its own way.

"Y/n and Seungcheol's Backstage Clash: Former Lovers Turn to Heated Argument at Music Festival!"

"Caught on Camera: Y/n and Seungcheol's Explosive Fight – Tensions Boil Over in Front of Seventeen and Industry Insiders!"

"Seungcheol Confronts Y/n Over Their Past – Did She Ever Move On?"

Fan-recorded videos from the concert venue circulated online, showing snippets of their intense exchange. Though no official statement had been released, lip readers and “insiders” claimed to have deciphered the argument. The drama escalated as netizens took sides.

🗣️ "Y/n deserves to move on. Seungcheol had his chance, why is he acting up now?"

🗣️ "You can literally see the pain in Seungcheol's face... he's still in love with her."

🗣️ "Not Seungcheol pulling a ‘are you really happy?’ moment like it’s a K-drama 😭😭"

🗣️ "Her new boyfriend just standing there while Y/n and Seungcheol basically confess their unresolved feelings 💀"

Within hours, major entertainment news outlets picked up the story. Some reporters speculated on whether the ex-couple had lingering feelings, while others accused Seungcheol of being possessive. Articles broke down the timeline of their past relationship, analyzing every interaction they’d had in public since their breakup.

A particularly viral article from Dispatch read:

"Inside Y/n and Seungcheol’s Emotional Backstage Confrontation: A Love That Never Faded?"

"Sources close to the artists claim that the fight was years in the making. ‘They never fully moved on from each other,’ an anonymous staff member revealed. ‘Everyone knew there was unfinished business between them.’"

Another gossip site went even further:

"Did Y/n Settle for a ‘Safe’ Relationship? Fans Speculate That Her New Boyfriend is Just a Rebound!"

Y/n’s company quickly released a short statement:

"Y/n had a private conversation with a colleague. We ask for your understanding and request that unfounded speculations be avoided."

But Seungcheol’s company remained silent, fueling more rumors. Some fans believed it was because he had nothing to deny.

Meanwhile, Seventeen’s members were being bombarded with questions during schedules. Seungkwan, who had been there that night, looked visibly uncomfortable when asked about it during a live stream.

“Ah… it’s not my place to say anything,” he murmured, avoiding eye contact with the camera. “I just hope people don’t believe everything they read online.”

Three days after the backstage altercation between Y/n and Seungcheol shook the internet, the idol finally addressed the controversy.

At midnight, Seungcheol went live on Weverse, looking visibly tired. Dressed in a simple hoodie and cap, he sighed before speaking, his voice softer than usual.

“First of all, I want to sincerely apologize to the fans,” he began, his fingers laced together as he bowed slightly. “I never wanted to cause a scandal or bring unnecessary attention to anyone, especially Y/n. That night… things got emotional, and I let my feelings get the best of me.”

He paused, exhaling shakily. “I know many of you have seen the videos and read the articles. There’s no excuse for what happened. It was a private conversation that, unfortunately, became very public. And for that, I take full responsibility.”

His eyes flickered with emotion as he hesitated before continuing. “I also won’t lie to you. The truth is… I never stopped caring about Y/n.”

The comment section exploded instantly.

Seungcheol swallowed hard, his hands slightly shaking. “I don’t expect anything to change. She has her own life now, and I respect that. But I also don’t want to pretend anymore.”

💬 “DID HE JUST CONFESS???”

💬 “Wait wait wait HOLD ON.”

💬 “HE STILL LOVES HER??? SEUNGCHEOL WTF”

💬 “Someone check on Y/n’s boyfriend bc there’s no way he’s okay rn 💀”

“I loved her. I still do. And that’s something I can’t hide, no matter how much time passes.”

A heavy silence filled the air. The weight of his confession was undeniable.

“I don’t regret what we had, and I will always be grateful for the memories. But I also know that some things… can’t be undone,” he murmured. “No matter what happens, I just want her to be happy.”

He looked straight into the camera. “To the fans who were disappointed in me, I’m sorry. To Y/n, if you ever see this… I’m sorry for putting you through this again.”

With one final bow, he ended the live.

But the internet was just getting started.

Within minutes, hashtags like #SeungcheolApologizes, #CheolStillLovesY/n, and #Y/nResponseWhen? trended worldwide. Fans were divided—some heartbroken over his pain, others hopeful that this was the beginning of something new.

A few days after Seungcheol’s confession sent the internet into a frenzy, Seungkwan found himself standing outside Y/n’s apartment, nervously shifting on his feet. He had sent her a text earlier, asking if he could talk, and to his surprise, she had agreed.

When the door finally opened, Y/n stood there, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on her face. She looked tired—exhausted, really. And Seungkwan hated knowing that he had contributed to it.

She stepped aside, allowing him in without a word. He hesitated for a second before walking inside, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.

Taking a deep breath, Seungkwan turned to face her. “Y/n, I… I’m so sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She raised an eyebrow. “For what exactly?”

His stomach twisted. He knew she wasn’t making it easy for him—and honestly, he deserved it.

“For dragging Seungcheol to your concert,” he admitted, guilt evident in his voice. “I thought I was helping. I thought if he saw you, if he heard you sing, he’d finally get some closure. I never meant for things to spiral like this.”

Y/n let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. “Closure?” She scoffed. “Seungkwan, I was finally starting to move on, and now look at this mess. Do you know how many headlines I’ve had to ignore? How many people have been asking me about my relationship, about Seungcheol, about us?”

Seungkwan lowered his head, shame washing over him. “I know. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am for putting you through this again. I never wanted to make things harder for you.”

She studied him for a moment before sighing. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” she said, voice softer now. “But you should have stayed out of it, Seungkwan. It wasn’t your place to interfere.”

Seungkwan swallowed hard. “I get that now. And if I could take it all back, I would.” His voice cracked slightly. “I just—seeing you like that on stage, I knew you were still hurting. And I saw how much hyung was struggling too. I thought… maybe, deep down, you both just needed a push.”

Y/n’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, Seungkwan saw the raw emotion in her eyes. “You don’t think I know that?” she whispered. “You don’t think I’ve spent every single day wondering if I made the right choice?”

His breath hitched.

“I still love him, Seungkwan,” she admitted, the words hanging heavy in the air. “But that doesn’t mean we can go back to how things were.”

Seungkwan felt his chest tighten. He had hoped—prayed—that maybe, just maybe, things would fall back into place. But Y/n’s expression told him everything he needed to know.

“I get it,” he murmured. “And I swear, I won’t interfere anymore.” He looked at her with sincerity. “I just want you to be happy, Y/n. Whether that’s with Seungcheol or not.”

For the first time that night, Y/n’s expression softened.

“I know,” she said. “And I appreciate that.”

The tension between them eased, just slightly. And as Seungkwan left that night, he hoped—more than anything—that one day, Y/n and Seungcheol would find the happiness they both deserved.

The buzz surrounding Y/n and Seungcheol hadn’t died down, and after weeks of speculation, Y/n finally agreed to an exclusive interview. It wasn’t to explain herself, nor was it to address the scandal directly—she simply wanted to remind the world who she was beyond the drama.

Sitting across from the interviewer in a beautifully lit studio, Y/n looked poised and elegant, her aura calm despite the chaos that had surrounded her lately.

Halfway through the interview, the inevitable question came.

“Y/n, with everything that has happened recently, I think what everyone wants to know is… are you happy?”

The studio fell into silence, and for a moment, Y/n only blinked, as if carefully choosing her words. The interviewer watched her expectantly, and fans watching from behind their screens held their breath.

Then, Y/n smiled—not forced, not hesitant, but genuine.

“I am happy,” she answered simply, nodding. “I have people around me who love and support me. I’m doing what I love. I’m growing, learning, and becoming a better version of myself every day.”

She paused, her fingers gently running along the armrest of her chair. “I think happiness isn’t just about one person, or one moment. It’s about finding peace within yourself, no matter what’s happening around you.”

Her words sent waves across social media. Some fans cheered her on, proud of her strength, while others couldn’t help but read between the lines.

No matter how people interpreted it, one thing was clear—Y/n wasn’t letting the past define her anymore.

💬 “She didn’t say she moved on. She said she’s happy… but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him anymore.”

💬 “If she’s happy, then that’s all that matters. She deserves it.”

💬 “So this is really the end for her and Seungcheol?”

💬 “What if she’s saying this to convince herself? She looked kind of sad for a second.”

And whether Seungcheol was part of her future or not… that was a story only time would tell.

Just when the internet was beginning to settle down after Y/n’s interview, a single post sent fans into a frenzy once again.

Late at night, Y/n’s boyfriend uploaded a picture to his Instagram story—an intimate yet casual shot of him and Y/n. She was leaning against him, laughing softly, while he had his arm draped over her shoulders.

But what truly set the internet ablaze was the caption.

"Thanks for letting her go."

Within minutes, screenshots flooded Twitter, Instagram, and online forums. Fans and netizens had mixed reactions—some supporting the new relationship, others furious over what they saw as an unnecessary dig at Seungcheol.

It didn’t take long before Seungcheol’s name began trending again, fans anxiously waiting to see if he would respond.

💬 “OHHHHH HE’S PETTY FOR THAT 😭”

💬 “No way he actually posted this 💀💀💀”

💬 “Seungcheol, don’t look at your phone bro.”

💬 “He really said ‘I won.’ But did he, though?”

💬 “This feels kinda insecure… if you’re happy, why throw shade?”

💬 “Y/n deserves to be happy, but this caption was not it.”

However, Seungcheol remained completely silent. No statements. No cryptic posts. No subtle likes or unlikes.

Following the viral Instagram story from Y/n’s new boyfriend, media outlets wasted no time in picking up the drama. Within hours, headlines flooded every major entertainment site, further fueling the ongoing controversy.

📢 K-Buzz News: "Y/n’s New Boyfriend Takes a Dig at Seungcheol—‘Thanks for Letting Her Go’ Sparks Debate!"

📢 AllK-Entertainment: "Is It a Low Blow? Y/n’s Boyfriend Posts Shady Caption Amidst Seungcheol’s Confession!"

📢 Dispatch Exclusive: "Aimed at Seungcheol? Y/n’s Boyfriend Under Fire for His Controversial Instagram Post!"

The articles analyzed every angle of the situation—some supporting Y/n’s boyfriend, claiming he had every right to express his love publicly, while others criticized him for being unnecessarily petty.

One report even included insights from an anonymous industry insider:

"It’s no secret that Seungcheol and Y/n had a deep history. For a new boyfriend to make such a statement so publicly… it seems more like a declaration of victory than genuine love. Fans are divided, and understandably so."

Online discussions became more heated, with netizens and fans picking sides.

After days of silence, Seungcheol finally broke his silence—and he did it in the most Seungcheol way possible.

💬 “I mean… he’s not wrong, Seungcheol DID let her go.”

💬 “There was no need for this. If he was confident in their relationship, he wouldn’t have posted that.”

💬 “Is Y/n okay with this? She’s been trying to move on peacefully.”

💬 “This is getting so messy. I just want all of them to be happy.”

During SEVENTEEN’s sold-out concert, emotions were already running high, but no one expected the leader to address the controversy head-on.

Right before launching into a rap solo, Seungcheol took a deep breath, smirked slightly, and let the mic drop to his side for a second. The crowd fell silent, sensing something was about to go down.

Then, he looked out at the audience and said, “Someone decided to run their mouth… but I can’t just let that go, right?”

The stadium erupted in screams.

Without missing a beat, the beat dropped, and Seungcheol spit bars sharper than knives, delivering what fans immediately recognized as a freestyle diss aimed directly at Y/n’s boyfriend.

“You think you won, but why you still talkin’?

Got my leftovers, but you’re still stalkin’.

Holdin’ her hand, but you checkin’ my page—

You insecure, man, just stay in your lane.

The crowd went wild, some covering their mouths in shock while others jumped, hyped at the unexpected callout. Seungcheol didn’t stop there. He ended the rap with one last line that sent chills through the venue:

Talkin’ like you won but you don’t know the game,

She’s not a trophy, she don’t need a new name.

You flex online but we know it’s pretend,

If you gotta talk about me, are you really her man?”

“Real love don’t need a caption, it just stays.”

🔥 FANS. LOST. THEIR. MINDS. 🔥

💬 “DID CHEOL JUST DISS HIM LIVE???”

💬 “HE REALLY SAID I CANT LET THAT GO LMAOOO”

💬 “That was directed straight at him and everyone knows it 💀”

💬 “The way Seungcheol handled this was straight SAVAGE but CLASSY.”

As expected, clips of the performance exploded online within minutes. Hashtags like #SeungcheolDissTrack #StayInYourLaneand #ICantLetThatGo trended worldwide.

💬 “DID HE JUST CALL HIM INSECURE???”

💬 “Seungcheol said ‘you got her but you’re STILL mad’ LMAOOO”

💬 “This man had enough and snapped 💀💀”

💬 “Y/n’s boyfriend better not check Twitter today.”

💬 “The fact that he did this in a FULL concert with THOUSANDS of people watching… legendary.”

Even fellow SEVENTEEN members couldn’t hide their reactions—Mingyu was seen howling with laughter, Hoshi dramatically clutched his chest, and Jeonghan smirked knowingly.

Meanwhile, Y/n’s boyfriend remained silent on social media. No response. No clapback.

Because at that moment, Seungcheol had already won the battle without even trying.

The K-pop world is ablaze once again as Seungcheol's recent concert performance has sparked a fresh wave of controversy.

Leading outlets like Dispatch, AllKPop, and K-Buzz wasted no time covering the unexpected diss.

📢 Dispatch Headline: "Seungcheol's Savage Rap Sparks Speculation – Is Y/n's Boyfriend the Target?"

📢 K-Buzz: "‘Stay in Your Lane’ – Seungcheol Sends a Clear Message During SEVENTEEN’s Concert!"

📢 AllKPop: "Seungcheol Breaks Silence in the Most K-Pop Way Possible – Fans Call It the Ultimate Clapback!"

The viral moment had fans dissecting every line of the rap, with many convinced that the lyrics were aimed directly at Y/n’s boyfriend following his controversial Instagram post.

The reaction online was immediate:

One industry insider told Dispatch:

"Seungcheol is known for writing deeply personal lyrics, but this performance felt different. It was raw and deliberate—he knew exactly what he was doing."

Neither Seungcheol nor his agency released an official statement, but fans noticed that SEVENTEEN’s official social media accounts carefully avoided posting clips from that performance—further fueling the speculation.

💬 "He didn’t even name-drop, but we all know who he’s talking about."

💬 "Seungcheol said ‘stay in your lane’ and mic dropped. ICONIC."

💬 "If I were Y/n’s boyfriend, I would deactivate every social media app right now."

💬 "Seungcheol is fighting demons with a whole concert tour."

Meanwhile, Y/n’s boyfriend remained silent on the matter, with some fans calling his Instagram caption “the worst mistake of his life.”

As the drama unfolds, all eyes are now on Y/n, waiting to see if she will respond—or if she’ll continue to rise above the storm swirling around her.

After the chaos from Seungcheol’s viral rap performance, Y/n couldn’t stay silent any longer.

Furious over the public spectacle he made, she reached out to him directly—and it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.

The tension was thick the moment he answered.

“What the hell was that, Seungcheol?” Y/n snapped, skipping past pleasantries. “Did you really have to turn this into a public mess?”

Seungcheol sighed, already anticipating this reaction. “I didn’t mention anyone’s name.”

“Don’t play dumb!” Her voice was sharp with frustration. “You knew exactly what you were doing! You turned this into a damn spectacle, and now everyone is talking about it.”

Seungcheol, still heated from everything that had happened, scoffed. “Oh, but your boyfriend’s post wasn’t a spectacle? He went out of his way to take a shot at me, and I was just supposed to stay quiet?”

Y/n exhaled sharply, her patience wearing thin. “You don’t have to stoop to his level! Do you even realize what you’ve done? Fans are eating this up, and now it looks like some childish feud. And me? I’m stuck in the middle of it.”

Seungcheol was silent for a moment before he muttered, “He started it.”

Y/n let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, grow up, Seungcheol. This isn’t about winning or losing. This is my life you keep dragging into the spotlight.”

Her voice softened slightly, but the hurt was still there. “I just wanted to move on. Why couldn’t you let me?”

Seungcheol clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of her words. “Is that really what you wanted?” His voice was quieter now, raw with emotion.

Y/n hesitated for just a second. But she forced herself to stay firm. “Yes. And if you actually cared about me, you would have respected that.”

The call ended before Seungcheol could respond.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had truly lost her.

After their heated call, Seungcheol couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at him. He knew he had hurt Y/n, and no words could undo the mess he had made.

So, instead of words, he chose actions.

Every single day, he sent her favorite flowers, carefully arranged and delivered without a note. He didn’t expect a response—he just wanted her to know that despite everything, he still cared.

At first, Y/n thought it was from a fan or maybe her company, but as the days passed, the steady arrival of fresh bouquets started to make her wonder.

Then, one evening, she finally acknowledged them—posting a picture of the flowers on her Instagram story.

🌸 "One of my fav things." 🌸

Fans immediately flooded the comments with love, but one particular comment caught her attention.

💬 "Minseong is so sweet for doing this!"

Y/n didn’t respond, assuming her boyfriend, Minseong, was the sender. But before she could even process it, a verified comment appeared below.

💬 Seungcheol: "They’re from me."

The internet exploded.

💥 Fans Lost Their Minds 💥

Y/n stared at the comment, her heart dropping into her stomach. She had unknowingly posted a gift from Seungcheol, and now the entire world knew.

💬 "OH MY GOD. SEUNGCHEOL, WHAT?!"

💬 "The audacity… but also… the romance??"

💬 "Minseong is getting secondhand embarrassment right now LMAO."

💬 "This man does NOT give up."

💬 "Y/n, girl, we need a response ASAP."

The moment Minseong saw the comment from Seungcheol, he was furious. His name was trending alongside Seungcheol’s, and fans were speculating about their relationship.

That night, he stormed into Y/n’s apartment, his jaw clenched, his voice laced with anger.

“Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me?” he snapped, tossing his phone onto the table. “The whole internet thinks I’m some fool who’s been competing with your ex this entire time!”

Y/n, still overwhelmed by everything, took a deep breath. “Minseong, I didn’t know the flowers were from him. I thought—”

“You thought what?!” he cut her off, his voice rising. “That I’d waste my time doing some grand romantic gesture when I know you’re still stuck on him?”

Her eyes widened at his tone. “That’s not fair.”

Minseong let out a bitter laugh. “Fair? You’re the one making me look like an idiot while secretly holding onto the past.” He stepped closer, his presence suddenly suffocating. “You liked it, didn’t you? Knowing he’s still chasing after you?”

Y/n took a step back, her chest tightening. “I didn’t ask for this. I was moving on—with you.”

Minseong scoffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “No, Y/n. You weren’t. You were just pretending to.”

His words struck deep, but before she could respond, his hand slammed down onto the table, making her flinch. He didn’t hit her, but his anger was dangerously close to boiling over.

That was it. The final straw.

Y/n’s voice was firm, unwavering. “We’re done.”

Minseong froze. “What?”

She exhaled, steadying herself. “This isn’t love, Minseong. You don’t trust me. You don’t respect me. And I refuse to stay in something that makes me feel like this.”

His expression hardened, but he didn’t fight her decision. He knew he had lost. Without another word, he grabbed his things and left, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he was gone, Y/n finally let herself breathe.

It was over. For good.

Following the sudden news of Y/n and Minseong’s breakup, fans speculated about the reasons behind their split—especially after the viral Seungcheol flower incident.

To address the growing rumors, Y/n’s company released an official statement:

📢 [OFFICIAL STATEMENT FROM Y/N’S AGENCY] 📢

*"Hello, this is [Agency Name].

We would like to address recent reports regarding Y/n’s personal life.

After much discussion, Y/n and Minseong have decided to part ways. They will continue to support each other as colleagues and friends. We ask that fans respect their privacy during this time and refrain from spreading speculation that could harm either party.

Regarding the recent online discussions, Y/n has no involvement in any public disputes, and we kindly ask for understanding as she focuses on her career and well-being.

Thank you for your continued support."*

— [Agency Name]

Fan Reactions

Late at night, Y/n’s phone buzzed with a message from a number she hadn’t seen pop up in a long time.

💬 "‘No involvement’?? Her ex-boyfriend literally humiliated her, and they’re acting like nothing happened??"

💬 "I just know Minseong is punching the air right now."

💬 "Seungcheol’s somewhere smirking."

💬 "Hope Y/n is okay. She deserves better."

💬 "They didn’t even deny the flowers were from Seungcheol. Interesting… 👀"

Seungcheol.

Seungcheol: Hey… How are you feeling? Seungcheol: I heard about everything. I just… I wanted to check on you.

Y/n stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She knew she should ignore him. After everything that had happened, after all the chaos, it would be easier to just move on.

But a part of her—the part that still remembered how safe he once made her feel—couldn’t.

Y/n: I’m fine.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Seconds later, her phone started ringing. Seungcheol was calling.

She hesitated before answering. “What do you want, Seungcheol?”

His voice was gentle, laced with something softer than usual. “I wanted to hear your voice, baby.”

Y/n’s breath hitched. “Don’t call me that.”

He chuckled, but there was an undeniable sadness behind it. “I can’t help it. You’ll always be my baby.”

She closed her eyes, gripping the edge of her blanket. “You don’t get to say that anymore.”

Seungcheol sighed. “I know I messed up. I know I’ve made things worse instead of better. But I meant what I said… I’m not giving up on you.”

Y/n swallowed, her heart racing. “You can’t just decide that.”

“But I can decide to keep trying,” he countered, voice firm. “I let you go once. I’m not making that mistake again.”

Silence stretched between them. Y/n hated how her heart betrayed her in that moment, how it ached at the sound of his voice, how it longed to believe him.

“I don’t know if I can do this again, Seungcheol,” she whispered.

He exhaled, his voice softer this time. “Then let me show you that you can.”

The world was buzzing with excitement—both Seventeen and Y/n had been nominated for the Billboard Music Awards. Social media exploded with congratulations, and fans couldn’t stop talking about how fate kept bringing them back into the same spaces.

That night, Y/n was in her hotel room when her phone lit up. Seungcheol was calling.

She stared at the screen, debating whether to pick up. But a part of her already knew—she would always answer when it was him.

With a sigh, she swiped the call open. “What do you want now, Seungcheol?”

His deep chuckle came through the line. “Can’t I just call to congratulate my baby?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“I’ll stop when you stop running away from me,” he said smoothly.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m not running.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “Then tell me why every time I reach out, you push me away. Every time I try to come closer, you take another step back.”

She clenched her jaw, looking away as if he could see her through the phone. “Because it’s easier that way, Seungcheol. You and I… we always end up hurting each other.”

His voice softened. “Not always.”

“Enough times.”

A pause. Then, “And yet… here we are. Still picking up each other’s calls.”

Y/n closed her eyes. He wasn’t wrong. No matter how hard she tried to stay away, something kept pulling them back together.

“Just tell me one thing, baby.” His voice was quieter now, more vulnerable. “Is there still a part of you that wants me?”

Silence.

Y/n knew her answer. But she also knew that saying it out loud would mean stepping back into a storm she wasn’t sure she could handle.

So instead, she whispered, “Goodnight, Seungcheol.”

And then she hung up—leaving him with the silence that said everything he needed to know.

The stadium roared with cheers as Seventeen was announced as the winner. The members hugged, overwhelmed with emotions as they took the stage to accept their first-ever Billboard Music Award.

Backstage, the energy was electric. Staff members, fellow artists, and friends were congratulating them left and right. Amid the chaos, Y/n found them.

Dressed in a sleek black outfit, she approached with a small smile. “Congratulations, Guys.”

The members turned to her, pleasantly surprised. Seungkwan was the first to pull her into a hug, followed by Joshua and Hoshi. They had always been close to her, and despite everything that had happened, there was no awkwardness—only warmth.

Then, her eyes met Seungcheol’s.

He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. “You are here.”

Y/n smirked. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The members exchanged knowing looks before slowly dispersing, giving them space.

Now alone in a quieter corner of the backstage area, Seungcheol studied her carefully.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

She shrugged. “You worked hard for it. You deserved to win.”

Seungcheol took a step closer. “And do I deserve another chance?”

Y/n inhaled sharply. “Seungcheol—”

“Listen to me, baby,” he cut in gently. “I know I’ve messed up before. I know I let you go when I shouldn’t have. But I swear to you, I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Her heart pounded, but she kept her face neutral. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But I also know you still feel something for me. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he was right, and they both knew it.

Seungcheol sighed and reached for her hand, his touch hesitant but warm. “One date. That’s all I’m asking. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me, like old times.”

Y/n bit her lip, her walls threatening to crumble.

One date.

That was all.

What was the worst that could happen?

“…Fine,” she whispered.

Seungcheol’s face broke into a boyish grin, his dimples showing. “Really?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s just one date.”

He chuckled, squeezing her hand. “One date is all I need.”

Breaking News: Seungcheol & Y/n Spotted on a Date!

The entertainment industry was buzzing with new headlines the morning after Seungcheol and Y/n’s long-awaited reunion.

Photos had surfaced of the two enjoying a quiet evening at a luxurious yet cozy restaurant. Fans noted how they laughed easily, leaned close to talk, and looked at each other like no time had passed.

🔹 "Seventeen’s Seungcheol & Y/n Reignite Romance? Spotted on an Intimate Date!"

🔹 "Old Flames Reunite: Seungcheol and Y/n Seen Boarding the Same Flight Together!"

🔹 "Eagle-Eyed Fans Notice Y/n Wearing Her Old Engagement Ring—Is Love Back in the Air?"

“Look at the way Seungcheol is staring at her… He’s so in love.” – A fan commented on Twitter.

“It’s crazy how they just fit together. Like they were never apart.”

If the dinner date wasn’t enough, a bigger surprise came the next morning when both Seungcheol and Y/n were spotted at the airport—boarding the same flight.

Fans went into a frenzy.

A Few Months Later…

“Where are they going together??”

“This feels like a drama plot… a romantic getaway???”

It started with a simple Instagram post.

Y/n wasn’t one to flaunt her personal life, but tonight, something felt different. She uploaded a picture of her hand resting against a bouquet of white roses—and on her ring finger, a brand-new engagement ring sparkled under the dim light.

💍 CAPTION: “Some things are worth finding your way back to.”

The internet exploded.

🔥 BREAKING NEWS: Y/n Is Engaged!

"Months after rekindling her romance with Seungcheol, fans noticed Y/n sporting a dazzling engagement ring. While no official statement has been released, the caption and the ring say it all!"

As the world celebrated, somewhere in the quiet of their own little world, Seungcheol pulled Y/n into his arms and whispered against her forehead:

📝 Fans React:

💬 “THEY’RE REALLY ENDGAME OMG 😭😭”

💬 “Seungcheol, you romantic fool, YOU DID IT!!”

💬 “The way this love story has come full circle… I’M SOBBING.”

“Told you I’d never stop trying, baby."

Seungcheol Confirms Marriage to Y/n—Fans Go Wild!

Seventeen’s leader, Choi Seungcheol, has just dropped the biggest bombshell during an album promotion event—he and Y/n are officially married!

"We Got Married Recently" – Seungcheol’s Unexpected Announcement

During an interview for Seventeen’s latest album, the members were discussing the inspiration behind their new songs. When asked about the meaning behind a particularly heartfelt track, Seungcheol smiled knowingly.

“This one’s special. It’s about someone I love. Actually… I guess it’s the perfect time to say it—Y/n and I recently got married.”

The room went silent for a second before exploding into chaos.

The members clapped and cheered. The interviewers were speechless, fumbling for words before finally stuttering, “Wait—married?! Like, officially?”

Seungcheol grinned. “Yeah. Officially.”

As if that wasn’t enough, minutes after the interview aired, Seungcheol posted a never-before-seen picture of Y/n on his Instagram.

The photo was simple yet stunning—Y/n sitting in their living room, wearing one of Seungcheol’s oversized hoodies, holding a cup of tea with a soft smile.

The caption?

“Wifey. ❤️”

The Internet Breaks: Fans & Celebrities React

Within minutes, social media exploded.

Even celebrities joined in.

🔹 "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WIFEY????? SEUNGCHEOL PLEASE EXPLAIN.”

🔹 “Not only are they back together, THEY’RE ACTUALLY MARRIED. MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS.”

🔹 "This man just dropped a marriage announcement like it was a casual Tuesday.”

Jeonghan commented: “Wow, we lost him for real. Congrats, bro.”

Seungkwan: “I DESERVE CREDIT FOR THIS!!!”

Hoshi: “Does this mean I can still be part of your love story? 😭”

Following Seungcheol’s viral "Wifey ❤️" post, fans eagerly waited for Y/n’s response—and she did not disappoint.

She uploaded a candid photo of Seungcheol in their home, wearing a cozy sweater, running a hand through his hair as he smiled at something off-camera.

The caption?

“Hubby ❤️”

As expected, the internet went absolutely wild.

Mingyu: “Wow, you two are really doing this, huh?”

🔹 “WIFEY AND HUBBY POSTS ON THE SAME DAY???? THEY ARE SO IN LOVE I’M CRYING.”

🔹 “Y/n is now officially the luckiest person alive. Like. LOOK AT HIM.”

🔹 “THEY REALLY GOT MARRIED AND NOW THEY’RE CASUALLY POSTING ABOUT IT LIKE THIS ISN’T THE BIGGEST NEWS EVER.”

Jeonghan: “I give it 3 months before Seungcheol starts posting ‘My wife is the most beautiful person in the world’ every single day.”

Woozi: “Congrats, now please stop writing sad songs about her.”

Felix (Stray Kids): “This is actually the cutest thing I’ve seen in my life.”

After days of trending worldwide, Seungcheol and Y/n finally sat down for their first official interview as husband and wife. Fans had been eagerly waiting to hear their love story straight from them, and the couple did not hold back!

1️⃣ Why Did Y/n Give Seungcheol a Second Chance?

💬 Y/n: “A lot of people asked me this, and honestly, I asked myself the same thing at first. But… Seungcheol never stopped trying. Even when I was stubborn, even when I told him to move on, he just kept proving to me—through his actions, not just words—that his love for me never changed.”

💬 Seungcheol: [laughs shyly] “It was never even a question for me. I just knew she was the one, and I was willing to wait however long it took.”

2️⃣ How Did Seungcheol Propose?

💬 Seungcheol: “I was nervous. Like, really nervous. I had planned everything perfectly, but when the moment came, my hands were shaking.”

💬 Y/n: [laughs] “I noticed! He dropped the ring box at one point.”

💬 Seungcheol: “I wanted it to be special, but at the same time, I didn’t want some big public thing. So, I took her to the place where we had our very first date. Just the two of us. I told her everything I felt—why I loved her, why I’d never stop choosing her. And then I got down on one knee and asked.”

💬 Y/n: “And I said yes. Obviously.”

3️⃣ How Did the Seventeen Members Help?

💬 Seungcheol: [groans] “Oh my God. They were worse than me.”

💬 Y/n: “It was adorable, actually.”

💬 Seungcheol: “So, before I proposed, the guys decided they had to be involved. I thought they’d just help with the setup or something, but no… they insisted on singing ‘Marry Me’ by Jason Derulo while I was proposing.”

💬 Y/n: “I walked into the venue and suddenly all of Seventeen was standing there, singing with way too much passion.”

💬 Seungcheol: “Jeonghan was even pretending to wipe tears like he was my mother.”

💬 Y/n: [laughing] “It was so chaotic but also the sweetest thing ever.”

4️⃣ Why Did You Keep the Marriage a Secret for So Long?

💬 Y/n: “We really wanted to enjoy this moment for ourselves first. In this industry, so much of our lives is public, and we just wanted a little while where it was just us.”

5️⃣ How Did Seungcheol Win Y/n Over Again?

💬 Y/n: [teasingly] “He was persistent. Annoyingly so.”

💬 Seungcheol: “I sent her flowers every day, wrote her letters, checked in on her, reminded her of all the little things I remembered about her. I just wanted her to know that no matter how much time passed, my love for her never changed.”

💬 Y/n: “At first, I was so set on keeping my distance, but then one day… I realized I didn’t want to run anymore.”

💬 Seungcheol: “So, you admit I won?”

💬 Y/n: [laughs] “You never had to ‘win.’ You were already the one.”

6️⃣ Final Thoughts?

💬 Seungcheol: “I know our story has been crazy—lots of ups and downs. But I think that’s what makes it special. We grew, we changed, and we still found our way back to each other. And now… I get to call her my wife.”

💬 Y/n: “And I get to call him my husband.”

💬 Seungcheol: [grinning at her] “Best title I’ve ever had.”

As expected, social media exploded with love and admiration for the couple.

🔹 “This is literally a K-drama but real life.”

🔹 “Seventeen SINGING while he proposed? I need a documentary on this whole love story.”

🔹 “They were always meant to be. I’m so happy for them.”

With their love stronger than ever, Seungcheol and Y/n’s journey continues—but this time, as husband and wife.