#Also more people need to watch the 2017 one

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed in January - DC Comics Fic Rec List Part 2

I am still neck-deep in DC fandom this month and the fics have been so so good. Unlike last time, I am too tired to write mini summaries/reviews, so I'm going to feature my favorite quote from each fic instead.

My first DC Comics fic rec list is here!

Floor Plans by @oh-mother-of-darkness (Teen & Up, 1k, 2016) “I really didn’t want to die,” he finished. “I was kind of hoping if I laid here long enough, I would remember what that felt like.”

Losing two brothers in six months takes an emotional toll.

almost right by @bitimdrake (Teen & Up, 3k, 2020) He desperately wishes that he didn’t know what Dick’s cheekbone feels like under a gauntleted fist.

Bruce sucks in a breath, hand raising to fix the cowl. Dick flinches back.

but more with love by @danishsweethearts (Teen & Up, 3k, 2022) Dick wakes up one morning, groggy from a dream that he thinks might’ve been about the circus and also about his favourite car and also about how lonely he is, and realizes that he can’t remember what his mother’s voice sounds like anymore.

O Robin, Robin, wherefore art thou Robin?

The Mechanics of a Hug by @sohotthateveryonedied (General Audiences, 4k, 2017) “You know… that crushing sense of depression? Like,” Dick chews his lip. “It’s. A physical weight. Makes it hard to breathe?” “Yeah,” Tim says, soft. He smiles, wryly. “I sort of hoped you didn’t, though.”

“So,” Tim ventures. “It's… what, a cuddle pollen?” Bruce just shrugs. “Something like that.”

No Pain, All Gain by @sohotthateveryonedied (General Audiences, 1k, 2020) Tim’s eyes go even wider. “You stole my organs?” “Technically,” Jason chimes in, “the doctors stole your organs. We just gave them permission.”

Bruce checks Tim’s IV. “Are you in any pain? Do you need more morphine?” Tim’s pupils are so wide that only the faintest ring of blue can be seen. He watches Bruce the way a five-year-old watches cartoons. “I’m all good, B-dog. All Gucci, like we cool teens say." His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Tim doesn’t seem to notice or care. "I could fight Superman right now.”

The Wind Sits in the Shoulder of Your Sail by @birdchildsnest (Teen & Up, 7k, 2020) “Oh my god. Bruce. I can’t even tell if you’re serious. When everybody finally eats the rich—they’re going to eat you first.”

At least, back then, Tim had barely been a teenager. He could almost forgive his own volatility. And he’d been smart enough (scared enough?) not to tell Jack that he didn’t need him. What was his excuse now? Bruce was his dad (at least, in the legal sense), but (surprise, surprise) it turned out that Tim wasn’t any better at being a son. Or Tim and Bruce still have some things to sort through after the adoption.

I Left My Conscience On Your Front Doorstep by @dustorange (Teen & Up, 21k, 2022) He doesn’t want to be loved if being loved is like this.

"I think I'm leaving," Dick whispers. "I think I'm not coming back."

bad boys bad boys (whatcha gonna do) ♫ by @drakefeathers (Teen & Up, 20k, 2014) "They live their lives thinking they can charge through the city with the right to hurt and kill and destroy as many lives as they want. And they do it all without a shred of remorse." “But—” Damian begins, brow furrowed in confusion. “Isn’t that like you?”

a Jason and Damian as Batman and Robin AU!! featuring a bunch of graffiti, a rival dynamic duo, and Cat Jason (a cat named Jason).

The Biggest Mistake by @oh-mother-of-darkness (General Audiences, 1k, 2016) “I could ground him anyway, if it would make you feel better.” “He only said it because I called him ‘a garbage can so ineffective it actually became garbage.’”

"You know what really needs to be addressed? Bruce's truly terrible treatment of Damian." -Me, on a daily basis

been a number and a name by @wynterstars (Teen & Up, 35k, 2023) “Turns out if you just say ‘spacetime’ until people’s eyes glaze over they don’t really question anything you say. Also, somehow nobody expects me to be able to actually do enough math to explain it.”

On a field trip, Robin has a close encounter with the newest super in Metropolis, only to discover the hard way that Superboy secretly works for Lex Luthor. They agree to work together on a plan to free Superboy from Luthor’s hold, but Robin isn’t sure how far he can trust him—and his developing feelings only make things more complicated.

clean it like you mean it by @wynterstars (Teen & Up, 70k, 2024) "Wait, ugh, you're not my dead dad, right? If I'm getting a dying vision of my dead dad I want a do-over because he suuuuucked."

When Gotham's crooks have to scrub down their lairs, who do they call? Jason Todd, Gotham's first and only underworld crime scene cleaning specialist. He's spent his life dodging the Bat, but after a chance encounter he saves Robin's life. Tim Drake finds himself drawn to the conflicted rogue, and soon Jason becomes Robin's street informant. But they can only stay on opposite sides of the law for so long before something breaks.

3:16 by @wufflesvetinari (Teen & Up, 70k (WIP), 2023) “Try to decouple one thing from the other. I’m proud of you, but ice cream isn’t my grand statement about whether you’ve been good or bad today. Good things are good. Happiness is precious. Sometimes you just want caramel chocolate chip.”

The knife pushes thin along Dick’s carotid artery, cupping the indent between neck and jawline—forcing him to angle his chin. The metal is warm, pulled with execution speed from under Damian’s pillow. “Okay,” Dick says quietly, tracking the intricacies of his own heartbeat—counting the space between breaths. “Guess I did need a shave.” (With faltering steps, Dick and Damian become Batman and Robin.)

wolf-king of rome by @mysterycitrus (Not Rated, 25k, 2024) “You go after Joker, but you don’t kill him, because it’s not about the Joker dying, it’s about Bruce breaking his code for you. It’s about Bruce loving you enough to change himself for the worse. It’s about your idea of grieving.”

Jason doesn’t fear Dick Grayson. Fear itself has changed shape for him, since his return from the Pit - it tastes of dirt in his mouth, of drowning, of fire and blood and laughter, more than a tangible face. Still, he’d be stupid not to be cautious. Dick liked playing on an uneven field, and would do anything to keep him off balance, so he just had to stay focused. That’s the nature of the armistice, both waiting for the other to make a move. It’s like balancing on the head of a pin.

Declensions by @dustorange (Teen & Up, 13k, 2018) “Do not tell them your name. Do as I did to survive. I lied. I have always lied. Make one up. Do not let them have you. Say your name is…is…is…Richard Grayson. Or something. They are going to steal you; do not give them anything to steal.”

“My father,” Dick says, “worked the rope. It cut him. His hands were never clean.”

Passiontide by @bigdvmnhero (Teen & Up, 5k, 2025) Despite its faults, the day had tried to be good. He felt young, like someone's son.

On the 96th day Bruce didn't call, Dick remembered their old game. Three things he knew: 1) In three months, it would be Dick's death anniversary; 2) Bruce was still missing his check-ins; 3) Here Dick was, persisting. Imagine the things I'd survive, Dick thought distantly, if I loved Bruce less. Or: Agent 37 and his various crises of faith, on Day 277 at Spyral, Day 150, and Day -0.

the time you won your town the race by @silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 4k (WIP), 2022) Tim. Tim is Dick’s. Death sharpens, clarifies these things. Who will receive the body, decide on the funeral, receive condolences, make all the decisions that matter. No one has questioned it, not even Tim’s friends. There’s a terrible clarity about death. If Dick said, let’s burn everything he owned, Alfred would do it.

He doesn’t know exactly what Tim would say. But he knows what Tim would do. Tim dies. Dick doesn’t take death for an answer. A Red Robin 12 AU.

door, opening by @cowboysorceror (Mature, 70k (WIP), 2024) Dick, with the keys to every locked door Jason has ever tried to open, tucked inside the cradle of his skull; all of that, snuffed out like a candle.

It’s barely audible, but he knows what he heard. A short, four-note whistle, chirping down – E, C#, then jumping up to A, F#, a little trill on the finish. He waits a moment, head turned slightly towards the dim shapes of storage containers between him and the ramp, eyes straining against the blackness. Long, stretching seconds. There it is again. His gloved hand, prickling with cold, closes into a fist. It’s a wood thrush. A small North American songbird that doesn’t sing at night, doesn’t live in the city. He knows what it means. It means hold, steady, not yet. It means wait for me, I’m behind you.

[elliedafish]

Little Women is the kind of movie that you can sit through an hour of and it'll only feel like 30 minutes.

[hannieehaee]

SINGING LOW

18+ / mdi

summary: despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

content: idol!mingyu x hybeidol!reader, pining, mingyu's kind of a slut, smut, afab reader, reader is a 97 liner, dry humping, a lot of made up shit abt the industry lmao, mentions of other idols, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of a breakup, angst, fluffy ending, etc.

wc: 13k~

a/n: this is not connected to my lil idol!mingyu x idol!reader series just fyi <3 i hope u guys enjoy this it took me like a month to write T-T

masterlist | kofi

Mingyu could still remember the day he met you. Well, maybe not met, but it was the first time he ever saw you face to face. It was at some awards show back in 2017. MAMA, was it? Or maybe the MMAs? Well, that didn't matter much. All he knew is that on stage, you had caught his eye.

It was only about a year into his debut, so he still wasn't too used to this scene. He simply sat back and enjoyed the pretty sight in front of him, knowing your group (and you) by name, but not having had the pleasure of meeting you personally by then. He hadn't met many people thus far, actually. At the time, most of his friends in the industry consisted of the twelve other members of his group. Coming from a small company, it had been hard for any of the members to begin to disperse and befriend their peers in the industry. Sure, they all had friendly acquaintances with other idols, but nothing could really compare to what they had with one another.

It wasn't until somewhere around 2017 that Mingyu had finally found a group of friends outside of his twelve members that he could trust. He had always been an outgoing guy, befriending anyone who'd look his way. He reasoned that someone had to be the icebreaker in every social situation, and he had given himself that job. Despite being a charismatic extrovert, however, most of these friendships did not stick. He developed many acquaintances, and maybe even situational friendships, but he had not really considered anyone a friend until meeting one Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook was simply the tip of the iceberg. Some believed Mingyu had taken the man under his wing, while others believed the opposite, but it had in fact been a mutual aid. They had both felt a bit lost at the time they met, bonding over the many things their lives had in common. Their age being one of them. At first it was thrown around as a joke, the idea of forming a little group with the many other 97-liners within their industry. But that joke became reality soon after when Mingyu had met Yugyeom backstage during his group's most recent comeback at the time. The three soon became four, taking in a Cha Eunwoo, and then a Jaehyun from NCT. Even some of Mingyu's own members joining, having the privilege of being born on the great year of 1997. This was how you eventually entered the picture.

Mingyu had already known you, well, more so known about you. Despite being the same age, you had debuted a couple of years before Seventeen, which gave him the opportunity to get to know you as an idol before he did personally. He still remembered the days in the green basement, watching comeback shows with the members as they prepared for their own debut. There had been a specific day when your group had been presenting their debut stage, which was also the day Mingyu first caught sight of you. You had caught his eye immediately. There was just something about you. He might've developed a slight interest in you from that moment on, hoping for the day in which he would become one of your peers.

Upon debuting, Mingyu had only seen you in passing for the first couple of years, the closest contact being a quick and informal introduction between your groups as you cruised through the backstage hallways of MNET. You looked even better in real life, he had to admit. But sadly, there was no one-on-one interaction between you that day. Nor was there during any of the following encounters throughout the next few years. It wasn't until about a year into the creation of the 97 squad that Mingyu had the pleasure of meeting you personally.

It was sometimes Jungkook who brought in new members to the friend group, but it was mostly Mingyu who would take the liberty of befriending the aforementioned members in order to introduce them into the group. It was mostly due to Mingyu's extroverted personality, which allowed him to strike up conversation with anyone at any time, unlike Jungkook who was a bit shier in that aspect. It had been Jungkook, however, who had first introduced the two of you. It had been backstage of MAMA or MMA, he wasn't completely sure. Mingyu also wasn't sure how you and Jungkook had met; he'd never bothered to ask, but upon your first meeting it had seemed like the two of you were close friends already. Mingyu had to admit that upon that first assumption, he was a bit jealous of his proximity to you. This was immediately followed by the realization that maybe Mingyu's previous infatuation in you went further than mere interest in you as a fellow idol, but it was maybe a bit of a crush. Regardless of what Mingyu had felt at the moment, he knew that he wanted to see you again.

For some unknown reason, you were not present in the following 97 gathering soon after your introduction. This struck Mingyu as strange, seeing as you were also a 97, and a friend of Jungkook's, so why would you not be present? It was soon after revealed to Mingyu that you had yet to be offered a spot in the now renown 97 squad. Jungkook had assessed that all the dating rumors that would come attached to the inclusion of a girl in the group were simply not worth it. He wanted to save you both the headache and the scandal. It seemed like a pretty reasonable decision. Mingyu, however, was not the most reasonable of people, often allowing his decision-making to be led by impulse rather than calculated choices. Which was why Mingyu had found himself walking up to you next time he spotted you at yet another comeback show, promptly asking you if you'd like to meet some of his friends sometime in the following week, claiming it was tradition for all 97s to go for a drink every other week. He felt like he was inviting you to join into a cult, or at least that's what you said to him it had felt like. But you had still agreed, giving him your number so that you could be privy to the details of the meeting.

Your admission to the friend group came very naturally, having already met a few of the members and easily befriending the rest. Yes, it had come with some controversy at first, but Mingyu had come to learn that you were quite strong-minded, not allowing a few rumors to get in the way of your personal life. It was easy for the two of you to grow close after that. Despite having befriended the entirety of the group, you and Mingyu seemed to form a more special bond, even seeking each other's company outside of group gatherings. It was all platonic, of course. Mingyu had quickly realized you did not seem interested in that way, so he tucked his crush deep within him, choosing to offer a friendship to you instead, never speaking of his crush to anyone. This was how the two of you came to become best friends.

This repression of his feelings, however, did not come without its consequences.

Mingyu was a hopeless romantic at heart. This meant that his crush never really went away. It actually worsened over the years that he knew you. But you never acted like anything other than a friend to him. You would always treat him the same way you did Jaehyun or Eunwoo. He was just another one of the members of the friend group to you. Yes, you two were closer in nature – calling each other the best of friends within the industry – but Mingyu did not want to risk that closeness just because of a selfish crush.

The repression of his feelings was also met with other things. Mingyu was a very loving man. He needed to express his love to everyone around him or he would physically explode (Okay, not really, but he swore that's what it felt like to him). He had a loving family to tend to by taking care of them financially and spending every waking minute away from work with. He had his thirteen best friends to shower with playful affection during and out of work. He had his 97-liners to play around with in between work schedules. What he did not have, however, was that one person who was his and only his. Someone to give the type of love that you reserve for only that one special person in your life.

Mingyu found himself seeking this person out since the beginning of time. Many would call Mingyu a womanizer or a player due to the high volume of relationships he had been involved in during his life. It wasn't like that, however. Not at all. Mingyu would date a girl he liked, would be happy with her, but would ultimately realize that the spark he was looking for was not there, causing him to regrettably end the relationship. He was often met with curses directed his way, but he felt it was best to try and end it amicably if he did not see a future there.

His most recent relationship had been with a former staff member. She was funny and sweet, and also pretty easy on the eyes. They got along very well when she first got assigned to Mingyu as part of his personal team. It started as a friendship, but it didn't take long for Mingyu's hopeless romantic tendencies to seek her out in a romantic way, something to which she obviously agreed to immediately. Mingyu had no issue getting women on his side. He had never dealt with rejection all his life. Being handsome, talented, funny, and even rich from a young age, it was rare to be met with anything but enthusiastic responses left and right. The relationship did not end amicably, however. Mingyu should've known better than to date someone who technically worked for him. I mean, he had been through this before (with one stylist, one MNET staff member, and a former Pledis recruiter to be specific), so he should've known by now that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. But his romantic tendencies couldn't be helped. He had too much love to give, and no one to give it to.

In the big year of 2023, Mingyu had found himself in five different relationships, all ranging in length.

His longest one had been three months, and it had been with a fellow idol whose name he'd rather keep to himself. Despite his friendly and easy-going demeanor, the relationship had ended terribly. He had realized three months in that he did not feel as strongly about her as she did him, choosing to try and end it on friendly terms. As per usual, his proposal to end it was met with curses and threats. It couldn't be helped, Mingyu was a catch, and his usual switch up in feelings (reasonably) stirred up feathers any time he realized he hadn't found the spark he was looking for in the respective relationship.

After that, Mingyu took a quick break from relationships, only to rebound with a random girl he met at a quiet pub in Seoul. One NDA later and he had her in his bed for a few weeks after that, only ending it after he got his head out of the gutter and focused on more the more important things aspects of his life once more. And the cycle repeated.

Throughout all of this, you didn't leave his mind for too long. From one relationship to another, a glimpse of your name would always be imbedded in his brain as he apologized to whichever girl he was with at the time, regretfully letting them know that he just didn't see it going further; that he was looking for someone something else. Despite having known you for a few years now, his feelings were still there. They had been in the back-burner for a while, but they'd resurface every once in a while. It made him feel guilty every single time, specially now that you had been in a relationship for a while.

Yes. You were in a relationship, which was one of the main reasons why Mingyu found himself serial-dating (and maybe sleeping around a bit, sans any involvement of feelings) more than usual this year.

You'd only been with that guy for eight months. It had started at the end of last year. Being best friends, you had let Mingyu know about the entirety of it. From your first meeting, to your first time holding hands, even to your first time sleeping together. It had been hell on Mingyu's side. He was in love with you; had been for years, and now he had to deal with watching you deliver your love to someone who was not him all while he watched from the sidelines, with a fake supportive smile that could never leave his face. The skill he had at hiding his feelings for you was truly unmatched. No one, not even his closest friends, knew about his feelings. Okay, there were a few exceptions, a few slips of the tongue when he was drunk and thinking of you a bit too much. Damn you, Jeon Wonwoo and Lee Seokmin for having been present that fateful night in which you'd texted him letting him know you'd be busy til the morning, excited that that night was the night you'd finally stay over at your boyfriend's for the first time. That had been a new low for Mingyu. He hadn't felt such a huge pit in his stomach as he did that day, knowing you'd be sleeping in the safety of someone else's arms (or doing much worse) while he pined for you in a tiny bar across the city.

That was more or less the time in which be had started dating around again. No matter his busy schedule, he needed his heart filled (and occasionally, his bed too). Unfortunately for him, that hollow in his heart could only be filled by you. His crush had been in the back-burner, sure, but it had never truly left him. The time you spent together was very scarce, as you two worked very busy idol schedules, but he cherished it immensely. Nothing truly compared to the relationship he had with you. The way you understood him and just fulfilled everything he could ever want in a girl was unmatched. He tried to keep these thoughts at bay, but every time he saw you made them resurface.

It had been a while since you two last each other. You were just returning from your tour, while he and his group prepared for theirs. The two of you kept up with each other through text almost on a daily basis, so he was surprised to see you as he walked the Hybe hallways, having been certain you were scheduled to arrive two days from now. These thoughts were put aside, however, the moment you spotted him and ran to him, pulling him in a hug. How was he not supposed to be enamored when you were so physically affectionate? When you felt so perfect in his hold? Other similarly delusional thoughts invaded his mind as he held you. Did you come back early to see him? He had told you he was leaving on his own tour soon, so maybe you wanted to catch him before he left. Had he been your first stop upon your return? I mean you were walking along the same hallway as Seventeen's practice room, surely you had been looking for him, right? His questions were answered almost immediately upon releasing you from his arms.

"Gyu! Missed you so much. God, it's been so long. How long has it be-"

"A month," it had been a whole month since you'd seen each other. Almost to the day. He had felt your absence very clearly.

"Too long. Hate that you're going on tour soon too," you threw him a pout, one that made him feel that maybe you meant it; that you'd miss him as much as he did you.

He was feeling melancholic lately for some reason. His feelings were heightened by your sudden presence.

"Only going to Japan for two weeks. It's fine, you'll have me back soon."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, baby, I pinky promise," he'd take you with him given the chance, "How come you're here earlier?"

"Oh! My boyfriend's sister has an engagement dinner this week. He insisted I go, so I asked if I could come back a bit earlier since we were already done with tour."

"Oh. Have you been to see him yet?", was that too obvious a question? He wanted some salvation that maybe he took at least a bit of priority over that guy.

"Nope. Wanted to stop by and see you first! I wasn't sure when you were leaving, so I didn't wanna risk meeting you."

All in life was restored now. This was all he needed to hear to ignite the spark once again. Okay, maybe a bit dramatic, but being Mingyu, he could feed himself for a month with the scraps you were throwing at him.

"Missed me that much?", he gave you a boyish smile, teasing you but with some hidden hope on the side.

"Shut up. You're so annoying. You're my one remaining friend. Everyone else is gone on tour! God, I hate touring season. If you don't come back by the end of the month, I swear to God ..."

"I'll be back soon, don't worry. You have your guy to keep you company anyways."

"Hah, yeah .. Well, uhm. I should probably go see him, actually. Call me later, though? We can go for a coffee or something. You know, before you leave and everything. When is that, by the way?"

You seemed a bit awkward at the mention of your boyfriend, despite you having even mentioned him earlier, but Mingyu chose to let it slide. It's not like he liked remembering his existence anyway.

"Thursday. You still have me for three days."

"Three?? Shit. Okay, so you absolutely should call me tonight, then. We'll hang out one of these days, okay? Promise me."

"You don't have to convince me, but okay. Pinky?"

You giggled, putting up your pinky to hook with his. This was a tendency of yours, born out of an inside joke Mingyu had already forgotten about, but you'd always pinky promise each other things. It was kind of your own personal thing, despite it seeming a bit childish for your age.

Pulling away, you said a final goodbye before threatening once more about calling you, saying you'd be seeing him off before he left. He agreed (obviously) and went on with his day, looking forward to hanging out with you one-on-one after being deprived of you for two months, while also cursing your shared company for scheduling you away from each other back to back.

~

The two of you only spoke on the phone for a few minutes, agreeing that you'd meet for coffee the following morning before heading to your specific schedules – the perks of working at the same company. You'd also agreed on having him over the following night for a few drinks as you bid him farewell on his short-lived Japan tour. Despite your boyfriend's dinner falling on that same day, you assured him that you'd be done on time to spend the night drinking with him; playing catchup. You'd usually invite some of the other members of the 97 squad, but most were busy, and seeing as you'd be meeting in your home, there was no need for more people in order to prevent scandal. There had already been a few instances in which the public believed you two to be dating, which was why you'd never hang out alone while in public.

Although most of the media had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, knowing you were friends, there was still an entire subsection of your fans who believed there might be more there. As much as Mingyu wished for it to be true, he also felt bad for the scrutiny those dating rumors gave you. He'd be willing to fight for you if the occasion ever arose, but you'd need to at least look his way for that to happen; something that he was still working on.

"Hi, Gyu! Sit, I got your usual."

You had been sitting by a window at the Hybe cafeteria when he walked in. He had to get to the building a bit earlier in order to make time to see you, but the decision between sleeping an extra hour or getting to hang out with you before he left was a given for him.

"Hey, baby. Thanks."

"Sooo. Anything new? What did I miss while I was gone?"

He chuckled at your inquiries. You were always very interested in his life, always keeping up with everything he had to share. It was cute, really. Made him a bit delusional at times too. He'd imagine a different scenario; one in which you'd be laying in bed together at night, going over your respective days as you allowed slumber to take over.

"Nothing much. Had a comeback. I kinda told you about everything as it happened. You called me almost every other night."

It was true. You were kind of attached to the hip by now, communicating with Mingyu as much as you could. He sometimes wondered if that was the case with your actual boyfriend.

"Hmm. Okay. No new girls then?"

Ah. Okay, that was an area of his life he didn't really touch with you. He didn't want to give you the wrong impression. How was be supposed to explain his dating habits without you thinking he just gave it up to everyone? (Which he kind of did). There was no way for him to talk his way through it without revealing his feelings for you.

"Anyway. How's things with your guy? Ready for the dinner thingy tomorrow?"

'Nice segway, Gyu', you chuckled at his evasion, "Uh, yeah I guess. I bought a new dress and everything. Haven't had a chance to meet his family til now."

"You don't seem too enthusiastic. Trouble in paradise?", he knew that you knew he wasn't a fan of your boyfriend, but he also knew you weren't aware of the real reason why.

"It's not that, just ... I don't know. We've been, uh, arguing a bit more for a while," you looked a bit dejected as you said it, eyes on your drink instead of him.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine, Gyu, really. It's nice to be able to talk about it. It's just- I've been bugging you about my relationship since before it even started, I felt kinda embarrassed to bring this up. And I know you don't really like him. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Well, that all checked out. He would always evade any conversation about your romantic life, despite how frequently you brought up your boyfriend. It had stopped after a while, however. You had probably caught up on his lack of enthusiasm whenever you'd bring him up. It made him feel guilty that you'd actively hold back from airing your grievances to him, though. Had he been that obvious with his disdain for the subject?

"No, fuck. I'm sorry. You can always talk about it with me. Just .. been going through some stuff of my own, that's all. What's been going on? You can tell me. Always," he grabbed your hands across the table to offer you some comfort.

"Really? What's wrong, Gyu? You know you can talk to me too, right?"

He knew. He just couldn't bring himself to. Not yet. Maybe someday he'd be ready to risk the friendship and tell you, but for now he wanted to enjoy you by his side in whichever way you were willing to give yourself to him.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," he offered you a soft smile, rubbing his thumbs reassuringly on the back of your hands, "Now tell me, what's up?"

"It's just ... He's been a bit pushy lately? We got into a fight about his sister's engagement dinner. He was mad I couldn't come, so I had to fix my schedule to make it. Management got mad at me about it too. God, I just don't know how to juggle both things, Gyu. I'm too busy, I- How do you do it?"

"Me? I'm the worst person you can ask. I haven't been in a serious relationship in years. And it doesn't matter anyway. It's not about me."

He wanted to go back to what you first said. Were you having issues with your boyfriend? He didn't want to relish on it, but he always saw something in him he didn't like. Getting in the way of your career was in no way okay in Mingyu's book. Who did he think he was?

"It's not your fault you're busy. He knew what he was getting into dating an idol," he continued, "You shouldn't let him feel like he can get in the way of your career. There's so many guys out there who would understand and support you."

Like him, for instance. He was an idol too, after all. He knew the struggle of dating in this medium all too well. No one would understand you the way he did. He wanted to scream it out for everyone to hear.

"Yeah, I know you're right. I know. It's just- it's been so hard to find someone. We're 26, Gyu. I'm ready for the long run. This is the longest relationship I've ever had. I know it hasn't even been a year, but I know I want to settle down someday soon. I ... I really like him, Gyu. What do I do?"

It felt like a punch in the gut. He enjoyed being in denial, pretending like your current boyfriend was just a placeholder while the real deal – Mingyu – came along, but that plan wouldn't really work unless you were also on board. So now he was forced to face reality and give you some friendly advice. It was too bad he liked you so much, because he couldn't help himself in giving you genuine advice instead of attempting to sabotage your relationship as any other reasonable person would.

"Try to talk it out with him. I mean, he should know by now how busy your schedule is, but sometimes it's hard for people to really understand. Tell him your issues and let him tell you his. Communication is the best thing you can do."

Damn him for being so emotionally smart and in touch with his feelings. He did not want to do your boyfriend any favors, but he prioritized your happiness over his own stupid feelings. It was a catch 22, except he always ended up making the desicion that favored your happiness the most.

"Yeah ... you're right, Gyu. Thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to turn this into couple's counseling. I'll shut up about my relationship now, okay? Let's, uh, talk about your comeback. Wanna record a tiktok with me before you leave?"

He decided to let you rest from what was probably a very stressful subject for you at the moment. Likelihood was that you'd keep him updated on it sooner or later. So, he chose to play along with you instead and change the subject, now finally catching up with you as he ignored your boyfriend's existence, pretending in his head that this wasn't just the platonic hangout you intended it to be, but something more.

The next day came sooner than anticipated. Mingyu's days always had a tendency of blending together whenever he had a comeback. Being an idol, he had to get used to the hectic nature of the job, even growing to enjoy it at some points.

The two of you had agreed to meet at 8-ish. You had told him that your boyfriend's sister's dinner was more of a brunch than an actual dinner, that you'd call him up at some point to let him know you'd be home to receive him into your abode for some drinks.

He didn't think too much of it when it turned into 8:00 and you hadn't called him. When time passed until 8:30, he began to wonder if something happened, but decided against contacting you. It was at about 9:15 that he finally received a text from you apologizing for your delay and letting him know that he could stop by whenever, that you had food and drinks ready for him waiting for his arrival. Once again, he decided not to question the delay, simply being content that he'd get some one-on-one time with you before he left for two grueling weeks for the Japan leg of his tour.

You welcomed him as per usual; with a tight hug and a peck on the cheek. He never thought much of it, but still always relished on it. Conversation flew as usual for the first thirty minutes, with Mingyu telling you stories of things that had happened with his members during your absence, but he could sense you weren't at your best. Asking was still not something he felt like doing, however. He didn't want to intrude in case you didn't feel like talking about it, and he also didn't want to hear about your relationship again. It was selfish, but there was only so much a man could take. Usually when you had an issue you would just tell him, so he chose to just let you take the reins. Your communication with each other was always very seamless, which was why he wasn't surprised when you finally brought it up a few moments after the thought flew through his mind.

"Sorry I'm a bit off today, Gyu," you chuckled, nursing your second beer of the night.

"Couldn't even tell, don't worry about it," that was a bit of a lie, but he didn't want you to feel badly on top of whatever was going on on your side of things.

"Don't lie to me. You read me better than anyone."

It was said in a lighthearted tone, but he knew you were right. He was always able to get a perfect read on you. He knew you, and you knew him in the way any pair of best friends would (sorry, Wonwoo).

"Okay, what's up? Did something happen at the brunch?"

You groaned dramatically, letting yourself fall back on the recline of the couch.

"Okay, so that's a yes ... Wanna talk about it?"

'Is it okay if I do? I'm sorry, I know I said I'd stop, but, it's kinda important this time."

That piqued his interest. And not in a good way.

"We, uh, we're taking a break."

Oh.

Admittedly, that really caught Mingyu off guard. For the entirety of your relationship with your boyfriend (even during the talking stage), you had never informed Mingyu of any problems between the two of you until yesterday, when you brought up his insistence at your return from tour, along with the frequent of arguments with him. You'd been the picture-perfect relationship in the eyes of anyone who was privy to your personal life, which was yet another reason why Mingyu always avoided speaking about your romantic life. Bitterness was something Mingyu rarely felt, but your relationship always brought it out in him. He also had always had a feeling about your boyfriend. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he just knew. Regardless, hearing that things weren't only not going well, but even going badly enough to require a break, surprised him.

"Oh, I- Fuck, I'm sorry. You should've told me. Fuck, I feel like a dick just talking about some stupid story about Vernon when you're dealing with this. What- what happened?"

"It's fine, Mingyu, really. It's not that big of a deal, I .. I kinda saw it coming," you certainly didn't seem heartbroken, but you still looked dimmer than usual.

"Do you wanna talk about it?", he scoot up to sit closer to you, knees now touching as you faced each other on the couch.

"It was what you'd expect. I tried to talk to him about my schedule; how I can't just drop my job for things that aren't that important, like some random brunch. He took it personally. He even picked a fight in front of his family. God, it was so embarrassing. It, uh, it ended up with me asking him for some space."

"Oh ... Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you to talk to him on an important day like that. That was terrible advice from me, I'm sorry."

"No, Gyu. It's fine! You were right. I needed to talk to him. I thought he'd understand, but I guess I misread him. I- I don't know what's gonna happen. It was a pretty big argument. He brought the argument all the way back to his apartment once the brunch ended. That's why I was late tonight. Fuck, I don't even know if we're broken up."

"What did you say? What did he say?", he felt like a teenage girl snooping for details in his friend's relationship, but he genuinely felt bad. Had his constant wishful hopes for you two to break up cause this? No, that was stupid. But he still felt bad for not having been too supportive of the relationship despite being your best friend.

"He said that if I'm not willing to prioritize his family, then he didn't see much of a future. I told him that my job didn't even give me the privilege prioritize my own family, so he'd have to wait for things to get less hectic for me. He didn't like that, so he started to get agitated ... He scared me a bit, so I told him we should just take a break away from each other. He, uh, he just told me to get out after that."

Jesus Christ. Had you been bottling this up since he got here? He felt like a terrible friend for making you feel like you couldn't talk to him about it. Yeah, maybe he had prayed for the day you'd finally break up, but now that it was (maybe) here, he felt like he had been the cause of your sadness. Except you didn't look too sad; more so disappointed.

"I- I'm so sorry," he went to hold you against him, "Had you been keeping this to yourself this whole time? Fuck, you should've cancelled on me. I would've understood. Are you okay? Never mind, of course you're not. I, shit, How can I help you? What do you need?"

You giggled against his chest at his rambling, something that made his heart swell despite the circumstances.

"I'm fine, Gyu, I promise. I didn't wanna make our last night together before you leave about him. I know I said I like him a lot, but .. honestly, I saw a different side of him tonight. I do feel a little sad; like I wasted my time for the past year I've known him, specially these past eight months, but I know my worth. Besides, all I wanted tonight was to drink with you. Being with you always makes me feel better."

Oh. Oh.

How did you expect him not to read into things when you said something like that? It was like you were screaming at him to make you his. And he wanted to. God, did he want to.

Instead he reached over the coffee table in front of your couch, grabbing another pair of bottles of soju before gesturing to you.

"Well, if it'll make you feel better, I can't really argue against it, can I?", and with that, he opened both bottles, handing you one as the two of you swung them with no cares in the world.

It was quite common for the two of you to drink together. Granted, you'd usually be accompanied by either the 97s or some of his own members, but if you felt like drinking with him would help you forget about your (hopefully) ex, then so be it.

~

Only about an hour passed by the time you were both tipsy.

The subjects of conversation varied a lot, from fun fan interactions during your tour, weird moments in interviews, fights with your group mates, to some more personal stuff.

You were currently playing a tipsy version of 20 questions, or at least that's what it seemed like as you took turns to question the other. Nothing was off the table.

"Soooo, who's the last girl you hooked up with?"

"Oh, I, uh-"

"I know you don't like to talk about your relationships to me, which I don't really get by the way," you said in a jokingly scolding tone as you dug your finger accusingly in his chest, "but cmon. Tell meee."

He remained a silent, but blubbering mess. Did you mean hook up, or relationship? There had been multiple instances of both which you had been unaware of until now.

"Was it Nayeon? Seokmin said you dated an idol for a few months," you giggled at his widened eyes.

"What? Seokmin? I'm gonna kill him- No! I never dated Nayeon. We're just friends, I-"

"Good. I never liked her for you."

"Huh? What? Why not?"

Not that he was ever interested in her (They were just friends, truly!), but he was curious as to your reasoning.

"I don't know. Gut feeling?", you took another swing of your third soju bottle of the night, "I've never really liked any of the girls you've been with. Is that mean of me?", the question was accompanied by a playful pout, which unintentionally drew his eyes to your lips.

"Why's that, baby?", he took the bottle from your hands, setting in on the table next to his. Suddenly he felt a bit less tipsy, sobering up at your unexpected bluntness.

"They just .. None have felt right for you. They're not good for you," you sounded like a petulant child as you said it, sitting up a bit, causing your body to lean further closer to his own, faces now closer than usual.

Oh? Did you-

"Do you-"

"Gyu," you breathed out.

Shit, when had you gotten so close?

"Y/N, I-"

"Shh. It's okay, Gyu. Right?," your eyes had slowly descended to his lips, making his own copy your movements.

By now you were basically on his lap, your face towering over his as he slowly nodded at your question, ready for you to finally close the gap but still gasping against you once the proximity had ceased to exist.

His moan against your lips couldn't be helped, nor could the way his arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer. The alcohol had not yet reached a point where it could rid him of his inhibitions, but had instead made his senses even more sensitive. Neither of you were lightweights, so Mingyu knew that the alcohol had boldened you more than anything. He thanked the courage it had given the both of you to finally end up here.

He gave you the best of him in his kiss, tongue swiping against yours almost immediately as he played with it. He toyed with your bottom lip, swallowing the moan that came as a result. You felt so soft against him; so sweet and delicate. There had been no night in which he didn't dream of your lips against his. The real thing had thrown him a curveball, making him unsure of what to do other than moan against your lips as his hands ran up and down your back.

You pulled away first, or well, tried to. Mingyu did a good job of following your lips with a whine, licking into your open mouth as he incited you into continuing the kiss. He was the one to break it next, only to pepper kisses along your neck, enjoying the feeling of your head being thrown back.

"Gyu ..."

"Please ... Just let me ..."

He felt bad kissing you like this when you had just (maybe?) broken up with your boyfriend, but he couldn't help himself. This was like dangling a meal in front of a starving man, asking him to please take a bite. There was no way for him to deny you when you had seeked him out first.

You disconnected his lips from your neck, looking into his eyes. Your expression let him know you were pondering your choices, eyes going from his eyes to his lips. He whined against you as you decided to attack him with yet another kiss, this time more vulgar in nature.

The two of you kissed for long enough for Mingyu to lose his sanity, finally taking initiative to carry you to your room, not once allowing you to disconnect your lips. The entirety of it was sensual, from the removal of your clothes to the feel of your lips against each other. You, lying in bed with only some thin panties and a tiny bralette to cover your intimate parts had him losing his mind. Was this real? Did he really have the girl of his dreams in bed, eyeing his almost nude body like she wanted to do very disrespectful things to him?

"Gyu ... Please, I need you."

He finally leaned over you, allowing your most intimate parts to finally touch, only the two thin layers of your respective underwear separating you. Slowly, he dragged his length against your cunt, groaning at the way your nails dug onto his back as a result, with your own back arching. Your chest was pressed up against his, making him grow frustrated and ripping off your bra in order to feel your hardened buds drag against his chest as your hips connected.

Ungluing his body from yours, he finally dragged down your panties, taking a moment to look at the entirety of your nude body.

"You ... You gorgeous thing, fuck. Do you even know how perfect you are? Your body ... Jesus Christ. How do you not have people on their knees begging to be buried between your legs every single day?," his voice showed genuine frustration as he said this, getting down on his own knees and beginning to lick and suck at your thighs.

"I ... Just want y- you ... Want you just like this."

"Like this, angel? On my knees, begging for cunt?"

His tongue itched for you, causing him to finally begin licking at your clit ever so lightly, groaning at the smell of your cunt.

"Ple- please! Gyu, I need ... You don't understand, I need you so-"

"I dont understand? Oh, baby ... I'm gonna break you .. Gonna make this cunt cry for me by the time I'm finished, don't you worry, angel."

Those were the last words spoken by him before finally burying his face nose-deep into your cunt. His cries and groans against your warmth couldn't be helped. He had no control over himself as he dove in and gave you everything he had to offer. Your cries and grinds against his face were not helping things at all. His own hips ground against the mattress as he took in all your pretty sounds of pleasure. Causing you to lose your mind like this made him lose his own tenfold. He had wanted nothing more than to make you his ever since that fateful day in which he turned the TV on back in the green room and saw you dancing on stage. His crush had haunted him for too many years, taunting him upon your first meeting and up to this very moment. But karma had finally smiled his way. He wasn't sure what he'd done in order for karmic retribution to gift you to him, but he'd do it over and over again if it meant he could keep you all to himself.

"Oh, Gyu ... Feel so good. Shit, so fucking good. I- God, pl- please don't stop!"

Oh. You were so ... You wanted him to cum in his pants, didn't you? That had to be why you insisted on sounding so damn pretty when moaning his name.

"Keep moaning my name, beautiful. W- wanna hear you, fuck, please," he begged against your sopping cunt, "Nd grind that pretty pussy against me. Use my nose, my tongue, anything, just ... Wanna feel that tiny little cunt cream all over my face."

His words also seemed to have some type of effect on you. You began to push his head against you in an uncontrolled manner, crying in high-pitched whines that made his own eyes roll back. He knew he'd cum like this. He couldn't even be embarrassed by the thought. Cumming because a beautiful girl – you of all people? – was crying his name so prettily? Using his face to stimulate your cunt with no care in the world? The simple thought would've had him creaming his boxers.

Then he made the dire mistake of looking up.

You wanted him dead. If he wasn't sure before, he was now. Your mouth was open while your eyes were crossed, nose scrunched up at the pleasure. There was not a single thought behind those eyes. You were clearly lost to the pleasure. One of your hands was buried in his hair while the other toyed at your hardened buds. He made a mental note to lavish your breasts with attention whenever he was given the chance. He'd always dreamed of making you cry as he abused your tits with his tongue for hours on end. So many ideas were cruising through his mind at what he wanted to do to you. But these thoughts were interrupted by your loudest cry of the night, followed by warm cream invading his senses. His orgasm against your bedsheets followed immediately after.

The taste of your cream and the sound of your voice had forced him into his own orgasm. He made sure to let all his groans of pleasure land right against your cunt, as he was unable to stop licking at you even after your orgasm had ended. You whined at him a bit until he finally allowed you to push him away, letting out a whine of his own at the separation. The two of you stared at each other for a bit before he lost all control again, jumping on you as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. The kiss was extremely filthy; just an absolute mess of tongues as he gave you as much of your own essence as he could. He even went as far as begging you to stick out your tongue so he could spit on it, but growing too distracted and sucking on it with his own instead. His hands went crazy along your curves, not knowing where to stay as he found a new favorite spot to touch every few seconds.

His thoughts were once again interrupted by you, as you allowed your hands to find way to his dick, which was somehow hard again after just a few minutes of disrespecting your mouth with his tongue. He opened his own mouth against yours, groaning when you licked into his tongue as your hands sped up on his cock. He'd let you have as much fun with his body as you wanted. You didn't even have to ask, he'd just give you anything with no question.

"Want it in my mouth, Gyu ... Fuck. I- I've been dreaming about it ... Please let me have it in my mouth?"

That was the moment his brain stopped functioning, head falling into the crook of your neck as he cursed you out.

You ... You'd dreamt of his cock ... in your mouth? You wanted to choke on his dick? Wanted him to lose his mind as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes all while he disrespected your throat? You were begging for it? Oh ... Oh, fuck.

"Gyu?"

"A- anything ... God, I'll give you anything, just ... Yes! Please ... Wanna fuck that pretty mouth, baby, please? I'll give it to you. Just ... just never beg me like that again, okay? Can't ... can't hear you beg."

That seemed to pique your interest.

"Oh? Why not, baby? What if i wanna beg for your cock to bruise my throat? What if ..." you pressed your lips to his ear, "... I wanna beg to bounce on your cock until I cry? Am I not allowed?"

"Angel ... God, please ..."

"Can I have your cock now, baby?"

He nodded as your lips overtook his, whining at the bare thought of your lips wrapped around him. Which is what came next, but not without some teasing from you. You kissed down his body, sucking and licking at your favorite parts before finally landing on his aching cock.

It was sensitive from his previous orgasm, but you didn't care, simply choosing to lightly suck and lick at his tip, dragging your tongue along the vein ever so slowly. You took mercy on him after a few minutes of teasing, finally taking the whole thing into your mouth like an expert. You bobbed at a slow and sensual speed, eyes constantly on his as you did it. Eventually you gave him the green light to cant his hips against your mouth, making him throw his head back at the vibrations from your moans. The sight of your eyes crossed in pleasure also didn't help matters. Once more, he found himself cumming embarrassingly fast, groaning again when you swallowed as much of his load as you could muster.

He brought you up to sit on his lap, caressing your body tenderly as he thanked you for being so so good to him. You seemed exhausted, so he made sure to clean you up before tugging you under his covers, joining you soon after.

The two of you laid against each other, shy and tender touches being the only thing you could do to each other in your tired states.

"Gyu ... Thank you for being with me tonight. Thank you for taking care of me."

God, you were adorable.

With a kiss on your nose, he responded, "I'm always here for you, you know that. Thank you for being so ... so perfect for me, angel."

"Shut up ..." you whined as you buried your face in his chest out of embarrassment.

"Sleep, angel. Let me hold you in my arms as you sleep."

The next morning, the two of you woke up a mess of limbs. Today was the day in which Mingyu was meant to get on a plane and head to Japan for the next two weeks. But his mind wouldn't allow him to disconnect from you. You were so warm and soft in his hold. He'd need a whole army to pry him away from your touch.

Just in that moment, you turned to look at him, hand softly landing on his cheek upon realizing he was awake. He leaned against your touch, relishing in the soft way you caressed him.

"Gyu ... Last night ..."

"It was a dream ... You were so beautiful. You're so beautiful, angel. Made me feel so good."

His smile wouldn't leave his face. He wanted to wax poetic at you, tell you how in love with you he was, but he didn't want to scare you away just yet.

"You don't regret it?," you were pouting at him, head tilted in a questioning manner.

"I'd never regret you."

"Oh ... That's ... Sorry I jumped you like that. I .. I don't regret it either. I was afraid maybe you were just humoring me."

"Of course not. It was all real for me. Was, uh, was it real for you too?"

You smiled at him, pulling him in for a quick peck, "Of course it was, Gyu. It was so .. it was perfect. I just, fuck, I feel ... I need to call him."

You ... You were thinking of him? He thought he'd be out of the picture the moment your lips landed on his. Why was he even in your mind?

"Call him? Wh-"

"I need to officially break up with him. We never actually broke up. I need to tell him .. I don't want to carry this in my conscience. No break, just need to end it officially."

"Oh. I thought-"

"No, Gyu. There's ... There's no choice between the two of you. It's you," you paused with a sigh, "but I just need to talk to him. I don't want to be a cheater. I need to end it before anything else happens."

You seemed to feel guilty at the thought of going back to him, but Mingyu understood. He didn't want to get in the way of something you felt like you had to do in order to clear your conscience. He had waited for you for years, he could wait for another week or so to officially have you in his arms.

"I understand, angel. Don't worry. I'll wait as long as you need."

Your sigh in relief was all he needed to hear to know his feelings were mutual. The two of you wanted the same thing.

"Thank you, Gyu, really. It's all such a mess right now, but I promise it'll all be settled by the time you get back."

He groaned at the mention of his absence. He finally got you and now not only did you have to deal with your ex while he was gone, but he couldn't have you in his arms again for at least another week. Life was laughing at him once more.

"Fuck. I need to get ready, angel."

"Yeah. I'll get dressed and let you get ready. I'll see you at Hybe later?"

He hummed, "Wanna kiss me goodbye"

"Shut up and get dressed, Gyu."

~

Your goodbye had been quick, seeing as you'd already given him the best farewell gift last night. You bid him goodbye with the promise that you'd update him on your conversation with your ex as soon as it concluded. He left with the promise that he'd think of nothing but you until his return. He was yet to make you privy of the gravity of his feelings, but he was happy to know that you felt similarly to him, wanting to pursue something with him despite having been only best friends this whole time.

The days passed naturally, with a few performances taking up his time and keeping him occupied. Thoughts of you did not leave his mind, however. There had been no updates on your situation with your ex for the first week, nor had the two of you spoken too much. You were preparing for a comeback and he was busy with the short Japanese leg of his tour. The two of you had too many prior engagements to really indulge in what had happened the day of Mingyu's departure, which was something that kept him up at night. Neither of you had made mention of it in your texts to one another thus far. He was scared that his window was closing. You wouldn't do that to him, would you? Or did you think he was just trying to get his dick wet? People did assume Mingyu was a serial dater, dating women and immediately dropping them. Had he used you in a vulnerable moment? Fuck. All these thoughts kept his mind running like crazy.

He just needed you to bring it up first, then he could finally get some clarification on the current state of your relationship. All he wanted was to hear something of substance from you following your separation, but there had been nothing he could cling to thus far.

It wasn't until the eighth day of his stay in Japan that he finally received the first phone call from you. Not a text, but finally a verbal form of communication.

"Hello?"

"Baby! Hi! How have you been?"

"Hi, Gyu. I'm good. How's everything going? Having fun?"

"Yeah. Miss you, though. Uh, been waiting for you to call, actually. Didn't wanna be pushy or anything. Fuck, sorry. I'm being pushy right now, aren't I?"

"No, Gyu. It's fine. I actually did call you about that ..."

"Oh. Did you ... did you talk to him?"

"Yeah. I just got back from his place. It took me a while to reach him, but, uh, yeah, we spoke."

You were being evasive, he could tell. The myriad of possible reasons as to why had his heart racing. He was never one to feel nerves around a girl, but you were the sole exception. He'd always been secure of your friendship, but every time his feelings for you would invade his mind – just like right now – he would panic and not know how to work his way through a simple conversation.

"How did it go?"

"He kissed me."

Oh.

He had no response for that. He knew he should've expected something like this. I mean, what kind of man would let one argument get in the way of being with you? Except there had been a Mingyu-shaped obstacle in the way now, and he was not planning to get out of the way. It still made his heart drop, however. The thought of his lips on yours after Mingyu had finally claimed you as his made a frown find a way onto his face.

"I'm sorry, Gyu. He did it as soon as he let me in. I guess he wanted to try and make up for the fight with sex, or something. I stopped him, though," you sighed, "I told him it was over. That it had been for a while. He put up a fight, begged for me to say, but I couldn't do it. Not after what we did ... It was horrible, Gyu."

"I'm so sorry. I can't imagine. I wish I'd been there for you, I should've taken the brunt of it, I-"

"I didn't bring you up," you interrupted, "It felt mean and disrespectful. We were still technically together when we slept together. I- I couldn't do that to him."

"Oh. I ... I understand, angel. It's okay, it's over now. Now we can move on together. It's okay if it takes you a while, I'll wait."

A few seconds passed until he heard a response from you.

"Mingyu ... What are we doing? I can't do this to you, I- I can't get you involved in my mess like this. I'm sorry I made you an accomplice to my cheating. I care about you so much. I didn't mean to use you when I was just sad and vulnerable."

"You .. you what? Baby, it's nothing like that! You didn't cheat, you weren't together. I don't care about any of that, you know that!", it was difficult for him to not get exasperated right away. Where was this coming from?

You were clearly getting emotional too. He could hear your sniffles and the dejected tone of your voice.

"I can't make you my rebound, Mingyu. I love you too much to do that to you. You're my best friend."

There were those two words again. Best friend. He wanted to be your best friend until the end of time, but he wanted more. He truly thought he was more than that to you by now.

"I love you. So much. Please. We- we can't do this over the phone, okay? Please, just ... don't make any rash decisions like this. I'll be back in four days. Can I come see you? Can we talk about this?"

He didn't care how desperate he sounded as he plead to you. There was still hope that he could talk to you and make you understand how he felt. He hadn't given himself the chance to even try yet; life kept getting in the way. And he was sure you felt the same. The way you felt against him, your cries of his name, your sweet smile as he held you in his arms in the aftermath ... None of that could have been just due to a pesky rebound. No, it was all real, he knew it.

"Yeah, Gyu, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put all this onto you. I'll see you when you're back, okay? I'm taking a few days off before our comeback begins. You can just come to my house whenever you're back in Seoul."

"Yeah, I .. I'll do that. Goodnight, angel. I love you."

"Love you too, Gyu."

The next few days without any communication from you had been absolute hell for Mingyu. He knew it was for the best; to not plague your mind with any more thoughts of him. You needed time on your own so that you could think. Mingyu, on the other hand, could've used the opposite. He thought of you nonstop. Those four days felt like eternity. Even as he performed and hung out with his friends, thoughts of you never stayed away from his mind for too long.

When the day of his return finally arrived, Mingyu was a wreck. Somehow he had been able to keep his turmoil of emotions a secret from his members. It was for the best, he thought. Wishful thinking had him holding onto the hope that the first time he ever brought up the situation to his friends would be by the time you were officially his girlfriend. However, this meant that the only person privy to his scrambled thoughts was himself.

With no one to ask for feedback or advice on the situation, Mingyu decided to just head straight to you. He had been in love with you for years, he didn't need to rehearse his confession to you when he'd already gone over it in his head endlessly times through the years.

Arriving to your door had been the worst of it. The ringing of your doorbell was followed by the sole sound of his heart pounding right out of his chest at hearing faint steps getting closer from the opposite side of the door. His breath caught in his throat as soon as you opened it.

He had seen you in all states, – from glammed up to recently awoken, both equally as beautiful – but the heightened emotions of the situation made him see you with rose-colored glasses (even more rose-colored than the ones he already saw you with). He had missed you immensely, that much was obvious. You had been gone for a month and had spent the best night of his life with him, only for him to leave for another two weeks right away. He realized now how much he'd been craving you these past few weeks.

"Hi."

"Hi, Gyu. Come in, please."

The air felt heavy. It was too serious for Mingyu's liking, but he was willing to do anything to show you that that night had not been just a fluke caused by your recent break up, even if it meant a grueling conversation in which he detailed the intensity of his feelings for you.

You two remained standing near the door even after crossing the threshold into your home. He wished to remain close to you; not allow you any more distance than you'd already had these two weeks away from each other. He was ready to talk the moment you turned around from locking the door, facing him as he looked down at you. He had meant to speak before anything else, he really did. It wasn't his fault that he had miscalculated his distance, ending up almost trapping you against the door. It also wasn't his fault that you looked so pretty as you stared at him with your widened eyes. What was his fault, however, was the soft kiss that landed against your lips just mere moments later. You had been at fault too, as you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you allowed him to push you against the door.

The kiss heated up a bit, but remained tender and sensual. Tongues played with each other as you breathed into each other's mouths. His arms wrapped around your waist, palms flat against the arch of your back. You fit perfectly against him. He hadn't enjoyed your kiss to the fullest extent that fateful night. He hadn't kissed you with the love you deserved. It had all been a mess of passion and lust, unlike now, in such a tender moment that allowed him to relish on every single sigh against his lips.

It was when he finally ran out of breath that he first spoke up, faces still just mere inches away as his hooded eyes looked into yours.

"There's ... there's no way you could possibly believe that night didn't mean something," be breathed, "There's no way you haven't realized by now."

"Realized what?", your breath was just as heavy, face tilted towards his as your lips remained within breathing distance of his.

"You really don't know?", his hands were running up and down your back, pressing you to his chest him with every swipe of them along the length of your back, "I've been discreet, but .. you have to know, right?"

"Gyu, tell me. What don't I know?"

"How indescribably in love with you I am," he whispered against your lips, swallowing your gasp.

"Were you playing dumb, angel? Making me watch you be with him as I waited for you to look my way? You must've felt it that night; the love I've been keeping under lock and key. You know, don't you, baby? You have to know."

"Gyu, I-"

"I waited for you for so many years. Waited patiently for you. And then came him ... But even then, I waited, and .. fuck. You finally gave yourself to me. Only for you to call me a rebound? Was I a rebound, angel? Does this feel like a rebound to you?"

Halfway through his confession, he had begun to pepper kisses along the side of your neck, drinking in every single sigh of pleasure you let out. This wasn't exactly the speech he had envisioned himself giving you all these years, but you were soft and pliant in his arms as he accused you of playing dumb to his feelings, so things seemed to be working.

"N-no ... You're not a rebound, Gyu, I ... Fuck, you're everything to me."

"Everything? Were you willing to throw your everything away just like that, then? Were you scared, angel? Scared of how much you felt that night?", he brought his lips back to yours, almost pressing them together but not really.

"Yes ... Gyu, I need ..." you chased for his lips, but he wouldn't give them to you so easily, no matter how badly he wanted to swallow any and all of your cries.

"I need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me."

"I love you, Gyu," you gulped, eyes glassy and beautiful, "That night ... wanted more. Needed more. I should- I should've broken up with him so long ago. The moment I began to compare him to you. He was nothing. He's nothing. I love you. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

He kissed you then, interrupting the rambles he had only ever dreamed of hearing from you. You'd thought of him? Wanted him to be the one holding you close at night? Had he known, he would've fallen to his knees the moment your heart opened up to him. He didn't care when your feelings for him began, he would've dropped everything in that moment to reciprocate.

"You wanted me? Were you waiting for me too, beautiful? Huh? Did you ache for me as I did you?", it was as if he'd burn if his lips strayed away from you further than a few measly inches. Every word was spoken against your mouth as you whined for his lips to find home against yours again.

"I need you .. Need you so fucking bad. Can I have you? Can I finally make you mine?"

This time you took control, dragging him down as you kissed him with everything you had to give, moaning affirmations against his lips. That's all he needed to wrap your legs around his waist and take you to your room once more. He had no time to waste. Knowing his feelings to be mutual was driving him insane, making his brain short circuit at all the implications behind your confession. Had you thought of him every night as he did you? Had these past two weeks been agony remembering every second of that night? If you felt even half as miserable as he did while aching for you to be his, then he truly needed to show you what he'd been wanting to give to you all these years.

He laid you on your bed, making quick work of your clothes as he unwrapped you, mouth watering at your nudity. His hands had their fun, feeling every soft inch of your body as his ears fed on every single whine whenever he'd pass by a particularly sensitive spot. His mouth was like a magnet the moment his eyes landed on your tits. His plan to make you cry as he abused your nipples with his lips had been on the back of his mind since that first night. He had wanted to go through with it now, but your cunt was begging for him just south from him, making him eventually get back on track.

You had been equally as desperate in getting his clothes off, feeling him up in a way that had him feeling filthy. Your desperation for him was making him lightheaded. The thought of being an object for your pleasure crossed his mind for a moment. His mind would've stayed there for a while had you not interrupted him with a whine of his name.

"Fuck me. Please, Gyu ... Need you so bad."

"Angel, need to prepare you, just give me a min-"

"No! I'm ready, Gyu. I promise! Just .. please ..."

Fuck. He couldn't hold back if you looked at him with those eyes, quite literally begging for cock to impale the pretty pussy that he'd been aching to have against his tongue.

With one hand, he grabbed onto his aching cock, using his other hand to position your hips in order to give him perfect access to your cunt. He used his dominant hand to drag the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, groaning at the stimulation against his slit. You matched his reaction by arching your back against your bed, begging him to please put it in. He could only handle a little bit of teasing until his cock finally began to push through your walls. Your cunt gave resistance, but you insisted that the stretch was delicious, begging him to not hold back.

"Feel so good ... Fuck, Gyu, you're so big ..."

He didn't need any type of ego boost, but your soft sighs at his size made his mind go blank, causing him to speed up his entrance, swallowing a loud whine from your lips to his.

"O- oh, fuck! Baby ... you're so fucking tight, shit!", he had imagined the feeling of your walls wrapped around him ever since he could remember, but no dream he could conjure could compare to the reality of it.

You were off worse than him. Your mouth was open and your eyes rolled back. You were practically a limp doll, mewling at him to 'please give you more' every so often. He just couldn't hold back at the sight, giving you everything you wanted with every single thrust.

He pounded into you so animaliatically that the your moans had begun to be drowned out by the sound of the headboard slamming against the wall. It was like the room was shaking from the intensity in which he fucked you, but you wouldn't stop crying for more. Mingyu's ability to think had died the moment he kissed you, which added to the myriad of reasons why he was unable to stop ramming into you even as tears clouded his eyes. At some point, however, he finally snapped back into reality, deciding to go for an intense yet more mellow pace.

He wanted to enjoy you; to see you lose your mind on his cock. Your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears welling in them made him lower his face down to yours to give you a quick peck. You responded by putting one of your hands on his cheek (which had previously been dragging its nails deliciously across his back) to keep him close to you.

"L-love you so much," you hiccuped.

"Oh, angel ... You have no idea."

He was close now. The mere affection behind your eyes had made him want to fill you up more than anything. And you seemed to be in the same state, as not even seconds later you began to beg him to let you cum.

"Angel, need you to cum with me, okay? Need that pussy strangling my dick, fuck. Please."

"Gyu .. Gonna cum. Fuck. Come with me, please! Want you to fill me up so bad ..."

"I'll give it to you, angel. I'll give you anything you want. My beautiful girl."

He pulled you even closer to him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he felt you tighten up once more. His fingers had been toying with your clit the moment he suspected your orgasm was on its way, only accelerating the process. His load spurt inside of you the second your orgasm took over you, making him press his face even further into your neck whining as his hips went crazy against your cunt.

Your screams made him lose the tiny bit of sanity he had left, digging the soles of your feet into his back as you pulled him to meld with your body. The two of you shook against each other for a minute or so before you finally went limp. Mingyu immediately took action, positioning so you could cuddle into the bed. He'd worry about cleaning you up later (Maybe by taking you to your shower and burying his face between your legs). Now, he wanted to feel you pressed up against him as he caressed you and told you how badly he loved you.

You sat up a bit, although still being held in his arms, and looked attentively into his eyes.

"Angel?"

"I'm sorry, Mingyu .. I'm sorry I made everything so complicated. I didn't realize how much I liked you until that night and I was scared I had just used you without realizing it. I love you, I'm sorry."

His heart swelled up at the confession. He already had a pretty clear idea of your feelings after the past hour of making love, but hearing a confession come from your lips had been something he had always dreamed of hearing.

"Shhh," he held you even tighter, "I love you. There's nothing you could do to ever make me stop. If this is what needed to happen for us to be together, I'd go through it ten times over. Just wanted you to be mine."

"I'm yours, Gyu. I promise."

"Yeah? You know you can't get rid of me now, right?", he chuckled, "If you thought I was touchy before, just you wait."

"Shut up. You say that like it's a threat," you giggled against him, lightly smacking his chest.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

~

You spent the night holding each other and bantering in your bed. You finally spoke of everything surrounding your lives as of late, even touching on your feelings for one another and the respective gravity of them through the years. Mingyu felt embarrassed revealing the intensity of his own, but enjoyed the way you'd gasp and giggle at his commentary, so it was impossible for him to stop.

"Since pre-debut?? You really liked me since then?"

He cringed but laughed nonetheless, "Yeah ... I don't know. I saw your debut stage and I just couldn't take my eyes off you. I kept up with your group after that until Jungkook introduced us."

"Oh my god? Did Jungkook know? Did anyone?"

"Some of my members did, but I was discreet. You didn't like me back, so I didn't want to impose it on you."

You frowned at that, "Gyu, I-"

"Hey, it's okay. I got the girl now, didn't I? Took a while but now I get you forever. Nice trade off, I think."

"Were you this nice to all those other girls?", you were teasing him now.

You'd merely laughed when he revealed his dating habits to you. The ones he kept hidden to ensure you wouldn't assume him to be some type of womanizer. You'd even coo'd at him upon hearing that it had all been to keep his mind off you, promising that you were now all his, so there was no need to ever look at another girl.

"Yah! Stop. They don't exist to me anymore. Just like no other man exists for you, yeah? Just me."

"Yeah, Gyu. Just you," you sealed the unspoken promise with a kiss.

Keeping your relationship a secret had been entirely out of the question. The moment the two of you arrived to Hybe together that next morning, Mingyu had been unable to keep his hands off you. He didn't care if any artists or staff knew you were his (He wanted them all to know, actually). If he could, he would've even gone as far as letting the entire world know, but he wasn't quite ready to involve the two of you in a massive scandal.

Life had now become the perfect routine. He'd head to work to his dream job with his best friends, only being a few floors under the love of his live's workplace. It had taken him years, but he was finally exactly where he always wanted to be. He couldn't help but be reminded of that fact every time you stopped by his practice room to shower him with the affection he always wanted to give to you.

That young Mingyu watching you in the green room would've fainted at the mere thought of his current life.

To read short 2k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: short drabble continuation to this fic, idol!mingyu x idol!reader established relationship, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2629 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Mingyu ..."

"Yeah?"

'Okay, first of all, personal space', you somehow managed to separate yourself from his tight hold.

You were currently sitting up against a mirror in seventeen's practice room. By some act of god, you and Mingyu always managed to somehow pay each other visits during the day. You'd befriended his members over the years, which meant that your presence was not uncommon even before you'd begun dating.

You had entered the room with plans to talk to Mingyu about something that had been bothering you for the past three months you'd been officially dating, except that your plans had been intercepted by the large man himself the moment he spotted you and dragged you to uncomfortably cuddle on the hard floor of the practice room. That's where you currently found yourself; hard floor digging against your ass as mingyu held you against him, keeping a hellish posture as the two of you laid back against one of the many mirrors in the room.

"Is there something you wanna tell me? Maybe about your previous relationships ..."

That piqued his interest. You didn't say it with any type of anger in your voice. You simply wanted some confirmation on some suspicions that had recently arisen. You knew Mingyu had a bit of a past in the dating area (something which he never spoke about due to feeling embarrassed by it), but you didn't realize how far it went until you'd attended MNET last week, only to be received with dirty looks by a few of the female staff members. You hadn't realized that rumors of your relationship had begun to circle around the industry (not having entered the general public yet), meaning that many staff members at venues often visited by kpop idols were aware of the high possibility that the well-known 97-liner besties were now something more.

This should not have come as a negative thing. Contrary to popular belief, idol dating within the industry was never much of an issue. Idols kept it hush, and most staff members remained either unaware or were too professional (or scared of repercussions) to ever really do anything with that information. You, however, had now been on the receiving end of one too many angry faces headed your way. It had even gone as far as staff 'accidentally' spilling your drink or messing up the settings of your in-ear. It wasn't until you had heard from your own company's staff that Mingyu had frequented a few of the girls working at MNET that you realized the reason why a metaphorical target had been put on your head.

You'd wished that Mingyu would've prepared you for this. I mean, you would've warned him ahead of time if he ever were to interact one-on-one with one of your exes (though that was unlikely, as you did not share Mingyu's serial-dating habits even before your relationships), so you would've expected the same from him.

" ... What previous relationships?"

"Gyu! Don't play dumb. MMET staff? Really? Did you think it was a good idea to shit where you eat?"

"Oh, fuck. Did someone say something mean? Baby, I'm sorry, I-"

"You should've warned me before I walked in to work with three of your exes!", by now you had unglued yourself from him, legs still tangled but no longer leaning against each other.

You weren't truly mad. You really only found the situation ridiculous, but you had still wished you hadn't been so caught off guard like that

"I'm sorry! I didn't want you to think I was some time of .. whore. I did date around a lot, but it was never anything serious. I'm sorry, I'll tell you next time, okay, baby? Forgive me?"

He was such an idiot. Immediately pouting at you and pulling you back into his arms, knowing you weren't truly mad.

"Fine. But I swear to God, Kim Mingyu, if this happens again ..."

"Yes, Ma'am."

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[doctorsiren]

Moth Psycho 100 AU

Something that I latched onto for mp100 is the moth imagery for Mogami. More than once is a moth shown as symbolism, but it’s also associated with Mogami more than once, whereas with the other bugs he’s shown associated as, it’s just once i’m pretty sure (even if not, moths show up as symbolism the most so uhhh yeah)

So @cupofchemicalchatter and I cooked up an AU idea :)

Mogami Arc happens as normal except for the very end. Instead of Matsuo catching Mogami’s spirit and trapping him, Mogami is able to go and watch Mob from afar like he said he would: “You made your choice, kid. I’ll keep watching from afar to see if you made the right one.”

At the end of the Mogami Arc, Reigen says: “Anyway, history has shown that no good ever comes from drowning in wealth, fame, or power. Think about it: Mogami let his own powers swallow him up too.” Remember this, as this is important for the AU I’m about to explain. 

And this will go into the next arc, the Separation Arc. The part where Reigen is in the alleyway under the streetlight with those moths above him always felt deeper to a level that it probably wasn’t supposed to be and by that I mean I was connecting it to Mogami’s moth thing.

What am I talking about? Okay well, just imagine the Separation Arc happening as usual UNTIL that moment. The moment where Reigen is in the alleyway:

Mogami had been keeping an eye on both Mob and Reigen, figuring that a way to break Mob was to use someone he cared about, that person being his mentor. So in that moment, Mogami had been possessing / using that moth as his vessel to watch Reigen. The moment that the moth drops dead and Reigen looks up is the moment that Mogami transferred his possession from the moth to Reigen, causing his sudden change. Now he is determined to “become somebody”. Of course, just like in canon and like Mogami did, he starts out by helping people out with their problems. He stated in the Mogami arc: “Mogami? Yeah, I modeled part of my work off him when I started this job.” Mogami stated that “at first, I used my abilities for good, giving advice and solving various problems.” Mogami was the “Psychic Star of the 20th Century”, with Reigen being the “Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century”. Mogami basically told Mob the classic villain thing of “we’re not so different, you and I”, but Mogami now sees that with Reigen as well. Despite the man not having powers, he would prove useful.

Reigen began “developing” psychic abilities. He thought at first that it might have been something residual still left over from when Mob gave him his powers while fighting the Scars, but he soon began to believe that he had dormant abilities that became awoken once he set out on “becoming somebody”. However, it’s actually just the possession from Mogami. He begins to realize that he doesn’t need Mob anymore. He can do exorcisms on his own now! So, he starts pushing everyone away…the people who would be able to actually help him out of this.

Reigen starts to hear a voice in his head. It’s Mogami speaking to him like he did with Mob, but he disguises it as Reigen’s own voice, allowing the conman to think that it’s his own thoughts. Reigen begins to separate himself from this “new” version of himself (which is just Mogami), but not in a way of “oh, these are bad thoughts” but in the way of “this version of me is my only true friend.” Since he’s being possessed, he’s not really thinking rationally. 

His reflection becomes a way that Mogami can communicate visually, while disguised as Reigen, of course. He speaks to Reigen, convincing him further that he doesn’t need anybody. Only himself.

His shadow also becomes a visual way for “Reigen” to communicate (because I thought that would be cool, kind of like Morgana in Ducktales 2017, or in The Princess and the Frog). 

The turning point for where things actually go south is the Supernatural Detective TV spot. When Jodo suggests that Reigen be the one to do the exorcism, instead of letting Jodo trick him, Reigen insists that Jodo go ahead with how the program was planned. In this world, the event is reversed. Jodo actually does the fake exorcism, since it was scripted, but then Reigen steps in and explains there was no evil spirit to exorcise, hence making Jodo the fool rather than Reigen. The host praises Reigen and the child reveals that he was acting the whole time. 

And then begins his true metamorphosis. 

Usually, butterflies are used to represent change, however moths go through that same transformation, but to most, they are held typically in a lesser regard than their daytime counterparts. Not really important, but I just thought it was interesting.

Reigen starts to spiral, becoming more and more of a corrupted conman. He isn’t assassinating people for money like Mogami had done, but he is lying more and more and more. The more he becomes corrupted with power, the more his psychic abilities grow (think Ritsu with Dimple and the student council stuff)/ The idea actually started out by me suggesting that as he gets more corrupted, he starts to cough out moths (sorta like an odd moth-based hanahaki, but having literally nothing to do with unrequited love and he won’t die from the moths. He just coughs them out because we thought that went kinda hard), but of course, he keeps telling himself (as well as Mogami telling him) that he’s fine. 

His powers (Mogami’s powers) are getting stronger and he’s taking out bigger spirits, taking on bigger clients, and becoming a bigger star. He finds himself losing consciousness / disassociating at times, only to wake up and find that he is stronger. It has become a little of a Jekyll and Hyde situation, but while Mogami has control of Reigen’s body, he uses it to consume evil spirits to try and regain the power he lost from fighting Mob. How we’re visually showing the possession is through a scar (like how Dimple has the red cheek spots). He got the scar under his right eye when Mogami exploded that one-way mirror in the Mogami Arc, and since Reigen’s technically being possessed during the duration of the AU (once that moth dies), the scar is visible the whole time.

In the end (we haven’t figured out when but we just know), Mob has to confront Mogami inside Reigen’s head, like he did with Minori. Inside Reigen’s head, it becomes blatant that Reigen isn’t psychic, although Mob’s sorta known that for a while (as it is alluded to at the end of the Separation Arc). But, Mob himself doesn’t want to acknowledge that fact. Reigen always said he had powers! Why would he lie? So although Shigeo knows the truth, Mob doesn’t see it. He pretends that it’s not true. He believes in Reigen’s lies. The student has become the master, in it that Mob is now lying to himself because he can’t bring himself to believe that Reigen lied to him.

After everything, Mob is able to separate Mogami from Reigen (but of course, not without everyone getting their fair share of trauma). The scar goes away, as he is no longer possessed. He’s back to being powerless, and now he knows that it was Mogami the whole time. However, Mob says that line. He says how he’s known that his master is genuinely a good guy, because it wasn’t on his own that he did all that conning and evil spirit stuff. It was because of Mogami’s corruption and influence. I think Matsuo would still somehow come across Mogami’s spirit and capture him, just so that it can come in handy later when he’s used in the World Domination Arc bc I don’t wanna mess that up lmao

Anyways yeah that was my attempt at compiling some frantic and excited discord DMs about this AU into something somewhat cohesive! Now here’s art for the AU, because I wanted to share them, but I needed to explain what was going on first!

This was the first one I did for the AU, when I knew I needed to draw something up for the concept of him getting corrupted and coughing moths 😄

And then the shadow and mirror thing (I LOVE the one of “Reigen” in the reflection oughhhh)

If you remember that post where I said I woke up and found I had written “twink controlling a twink” the night prior, this is what it was in relation to 😭 why did I call Mogami a twink very very late at night? Who knows. The important thing is that doing so altered everything and now he is one in my mind, so I can’t do anything about it. Don't ask why this page seems really fruity, it was like 3 AM and over a week ago so I don't know (/silly)

These were from when I was rewatching the Mogami Arc to pick up details for the AU

Moths have the patterns on their wings to mimic eyes, so there’s that inherent aspect of deception and lying. It makes the moths seem like a bigger threat than they actually are. (also I have him wearing Mogami's blazer and shirt)

And then just the moths and such with Mogami’s spirit

And me pulling a quote from when Dimple was explaining who Mogami was.

YEAH I just really love drawing stuff for this AU bc of the fun moth symbolism.If none of any of this makes sense, I’m so sorry. I just needed to finally post about this AU bc it’s given me brainmoths (like brainworms, but y’know)

We kinda came up with the AU backwards and filled in random spots here and there after the fact of our original conjuration of it, so I had to try and piece it together HAHA 

[crosbyism]

"but then again this is the guy who’s publically known for loving to eat ass so"

I'm sorry, I thought Nate eating ass was fanon. Are you telling me this is an actual canon fact??

god i love when people don’t realise how much “fanon” around sid and nate is actually canon. it’s like heroin to me. also bc it’s like. 90% of the stuff in fics (which is probably why people assume it’s fanon but. oh boy it’s not. there’s shockingly little fanon around these two, mostly because canon is so abundant).

yes, nathan mackinnon is a known ass-eater. let me direct you to this post, anon. you’re welcome.

other nate (and sid) facts you might not have realised are canon:

nate is a known advocate for therapy. he’s been seeing a sports therapist since 2017

they wear matching clothing all the fucking time, sid has said publicly that he started wearing white sneakers and updated his wardrobe due to nate’s influence (iirc nate might’ve even bought him his first pair of white sneakers? either that or it was a “he told me i need to so i did” situation). they share a tailor. unfortunately i now have to bring your attention to the fact that since they have an alarming amount of matching clothes that they’ve bought for each other, that means that they in fact have to know each other’s clothing sizes off by heart. they also low-key share clothing btw

their families celebrate canada day together and their dads are best friends. in-law behaviour goes crazy

nate did in fact stalk his way into sid’s heart (got the same personal trainer and agent at age 13; built his house next door in 2017; they’ve been spending every day in the summers together since at least 2015. sid cooks for them daily, or at least did pre-pandemic. sid refuses to use nate’s gym tho so they always use sid’s).

nate used to have a fan twitter account more or less where he rooted for the pens. it was active until 2017.

sid and nate regularly go to summer weddings together as each other’s dates. they have done this since, once again, at least 2015

nate has confirmed that he used to have a poster of sid on his wall as a teenager (he didn’t confirm he used to jerk off to it but frankly. i think that’d be saying the quiet part out loud)

when sid won the cup in 2009 and held the parade in cole harbour, nate stood by the side of the road watching it. he was about to turn 14, he was already working with sid’s trainer and agent, and he was about to start attending shattuck (sid’s junior high). due to old pics we also know that this was RIGHT before nate had his first growth spurt and hit puberty. i’m not saying seeing sid with the cup kickstarted nate’s puberty and gave him his first boner but i’m not NOT saying it

nate dated vanessa morgan of riverdale fame in his rookie year. she’s now good friends with elias petersson from the vancouver canucks (this means nothing but i do think it’s a very funny coincidence).

nate schmidt, formerly of the VGK, once failed a drug test (it turned out to be a testing-fuck-up); when nhl players were asked about it natemack iconically said “i don’t think he was sticking a needle up his ass” (i just like this one)

when he was a kid, the one other thing sid wanted to be was a hairdresser. nate, on the other hand, “didn’t have a plan B”

nate is canonically possessive of sid (see: the asg 2024) and sid is canonically delighted by this and into it

they go on so many lunch dates in the summer my dude. they go grocery shopping together. like there’s so many pics of them in grocery stores or out having coffee or weird green shakes

oh i almost forgot, they went on a roadtrip through ireland last year. they’ve been on holiday together multiple times over the years though. done some eurotripping together and stuff. in 2015 they spent three months together, three weeks of which were spent living in sid’s santa monica condo together just the two of them

sid has put up a picture of every stanley cup winning captain in his basement since 2008, when the pens lost in the scf to DET. apparently this serves as motivation for him to win the cup. he notoriously does not watch the playoffs after the pens are out

however, he partied so hard at nate’s cup party he actually closed down the party with his dad. nate is the only non-teammate sid’s ever been seen supporting for a cup run (he’s also never been to his teammates’ cup parties afaik so. there’s that)

also they talked on the phone daily and between periods during nate’s cup run. they also canonically have almost weekly phone dates that can run multiple hours. quote nate “i can’t talk to anyone else the way i can talk to him”

they each have pictures of the two of them together framed in each other’s houses

there’s rumours they’re building adjoining houses on neighbouring properties in cape breton next to a golf course bc apparently being neighbours in halifax isn’t enough or something. this one is as yet unconfirmed by reputable sources though

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ IF ONLY

❛ 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺? 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵? 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪’𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮? 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪’𝘮 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦— 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺. ❜

timeline: 2017 & 2018

synopsis: A moment of vulnerability, a confession left unanswered, and a heart quietly breaking— If only things had gone differently, but some stories take time to unfold.

warnings: cursing, crying, misunderstanding, drinking, angst, drunk confessions, rejection, sad!Luna, confused!Jeonghan, heartaches, talks about embracing the pain, unrequited love (?), a somewhat hopeful ending

surprise! my first ever one-shot in the Luna-verse, I really hope you guys like it! Also… I am so sorry for making this sad and angsty. A lot of you have been asking me about how Jeonghan rejected Luna ever since I posted the Group Ships… so here it is, but I promise it gets better from here. Luna and Jeonghan’s story is very very interesting so keep a lookout on that 🤍 (p.s. I made myself cry writing this.)

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

If only she wasn’t the way she was, that is what Luna thought growing up.

Luna had always found it difficult to make friends. From a young age, she was used to the way people looked at her— peers who seemed to keep their distance, children her age who were either too intimidated by her or too quick to judge. The few times she had tried to approach someone, their hesitation or outright dismissal had stung.

But with time, Luna learned to accept it. She carried herself with an air of quiet confidence, convincing herself that she didn’t need to fit in with the rest. Even as a child, she’d find comfort in the quiet, the solitude that followed her like a shadow.

That sense of isolation followed her into her teenage years, long after she had moved back to Korea to chase her dream of becoming an idol. At just fourteen, she had thrown herself into a world where competition was everything.

It was hard enough to adjust to the grueling training regimen, but there was something even more challenging— forming connections.

Surrounded by other trainees, Luna had hoped that maybe here, in the shared space of hard work and ambition, she would finally find people who understood her.

Instead, the distance only grew.

The girls she trained with didn’t just avoid her because of her looks. They avoided her because of her talent, her skill, and her determination.

Luna was better than them, and they knew it.

Every time she entered the practice room, Luna could feel the stares. Her sharp movements and flawless execution stood out, but not in the way she had hoped. It didn’t make people want to get closer to her. It made them wary as if they were afraid her presence alone was a threat.

Luna never intended to intimidate anyone; she simply wanted to do her best. But no matter how hard she worked, it seemed to push people further away.

Luna had taken it as a compliment as she got older. But back then, it was suffocating, watching the others group together while she was always left on the sidelines, untouchable, unapproachable.

If only she could have done something differently.

If only people could see beyond her cold exterior.

If only people weren't so quick to judge.

As she grew older, she tried to find some comfort in the idea that perhaps this distance was a compliment. If they were intimidated, it meant they saw her as someone to be taken seriously, someone skilled enough to be a rival. And rivals didn’t need to be friends, right?

But even as she told herself this, the isolation lingered. There were times when the silence became suffocating, and she wondered if anyone would ever approach her without that look in their eyes.

No one ever did.

Not until Jeonghan.

She remembered the first time they met vividly like it was etched into her mind.

It was her first day at PLEDIS after she had transferred from YG Entertainment. She had expected it to be just like the others— people watching her from a distance, maybe a polite nod or two but no real effort to get to know her.

But Jeonghan had been different from the start.

While the other trainees kept to their familiar circles, glancing at her curiously but saying nothing, Jeonghan had walked right up to her. His messy swept hair was already growing since then, and there was a smile on his face— easy and warm as if they had known each other for years.

“Hi,” he had said, extending his hand to her. “I’m Jeonghan. What’s your name?” he’d said with a casual smile like it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth disarmed her and made her wonder why he didn’t hesitate like the others.

Luna had blinked, momentarily stunned by his straightforwardness. She had been so used to people shying away from her that for a second, she didn’t know how to respond.

“I... I’m Jiyeon,” she had managed to say, her voice uncharacteristically small. “Or Luna… you can also call me Luna.”

“Jiyeon or Luna,” Jeonghan repeated, his smile widening. “Welcome. If you need anything, just let me know.”

That was it. No fanfare, no awkward small talk— just a simple greeting, but it had meant the world to her.

It still does.

Jeonghan was the first person to make her feel like she wasn’t an outsider in the cutthroat world of trainee life. From that moment on, he became a constant presence in her life.

He became her first friend within the company and her first proper friend ever. The one who cheered her on during monthly evaluations when no one else would.

His voice would always rise above the whispers of competition, “You’ve got this, Nana-ya!” he’d say, his voice full of encouragement.

And when she did well— when she ranked first during one of the most intense evaluations— it was Jeonghan who was the first to congratulate her, beaming with pride as if her success was his own.

If only she had realized back then just how important he’d become to her.

Jeonghan became her anchor, the one person she could count on when the loneliness threatened to overwhelm her. He was the first one to truly see her—not just as another trainee, but as someone worth knowing.

Jeonghan was her first friend, her first best friend, but he was also the first guy she ever liked.

As time passed, it became clearer. Jeonghan wasn’t just a friend to her. Luna didn’t know when it had happened exactly, but one day, she realized that her feelings for Jeonghan had shifted.

It wasn’t a loud, thunderous realization. It crept in like a slow sunrise, soft and warm.

His easy smiles, the way his hair would fall into his eyes, the effortless kindness he showed not only her but everyone around him. It was the way her heart would flutter when he smiled at her, the way she would find herself glancing at him in the practice room, admiring his soft features, the way he moved with effortless grace… it all felt different.

It made her heart ache, a tender pull that grew with every interaction.

Jeonghan wasn’t just her best friend— he was someone she cared about, someone who had become more important to her than she had ever anticipated.

It started innocently enough, a soft crush that lingered in the back of her mind, growing stronger with every passing day.

Back then, Luna had convinced herself it was just admiration. After all, Jeonghan was everything she wasn’t— outgoing, charming, and effortlessly kind. He had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, and for someone like Luna, who had always been hard to approach, that was something she admired.

But it wasn’t just admiration. She knew that deep down.

If only she could stop herself from liking her best friend.

It terrified her.

Cause just like every first crush, it came with fear.

Fear that he wouldn’t see her the same way.

Fear that their dynamic would change, and the closeness she cherished would slip away.

As a trainee, Luna had done her best to suppress those feelings. She’d bury herself in practice, pushing herself harder and harder, hoping the exhaustion would numb whatever emotions were swirling inside her.

But Jeonghan always seemed to break through that wall. He was the one who encouraged her when she doubted herself, the one who praised her when she felt like she wasn’t good enough, and the one who always made sure she never felt alone.

He had this way of showing up exactly when she needed someone, even when she hadn’t realized she needed anyone at all.

If only it were simple.

If only her heart didn’t race every time he smiled at her during practice, or when he pulled her aside after evaluations just to tell her how well she’d done.

If only she could keep it all together like she wanted to. But every time they stood next to each other on stage, every time they shared a laugh behind the scenes, every time he gave her that gentle, knowing look that only he could, her feelings for him grew stronger, despite how desperately she tried to push them away.

And yet, she knew she couldn’t say anything.

From their trainee days to their debut, Luna kept those feelings locked inside. She’d convinced herself it was better that way. After all, they were in the same group now. They were members of SEVENTEEN, a team. If anything were to happen, if her feelings were ever discovered, it could ruin everything they had worked so hard for.

The thought of jeopardizing that terrified her. That is the last thing she wanted was to complicate things—for herself, for Jeonghan, or the group.

So, for years, Luna held back.

She smiled when Jeonghan smiled at her, laughed when he teased her during practice and pretended it didn’t hurt when he leaned a little too close to one of their other members, playfully tugging on their sleeves the same way he did with her.

Luna tried to delude herself into thinking that her feelings would fade sooner or later.

If only it did.

The feelings persisted, gnawing at her every time they shared a moment. And as much as she tried to hide it, there was no denying the truth: she had hard fallen for him.

Soon, she had become a master of hiding her emotions, of keeping her heart carefully tucked away.

By 2017, she had gotten so good at it that even she almost believed she didn’t care anymore.

Almost.

But it all came crashing down one late night in June, in the quiet of their shared dorm floor. The group had just come home from a long day, having performed at ‘Music Bank’, and the exhaustion clung to them like a heavy fog.

But for Luna and Jeonghan, the night was far from over. It had become their little routine— after a long day, after all the noise and chaos of performing and smiling for the cameras, they would retreat to either Jeonghan or Luna's place, pour a few drinks, and talk.

Tonight was no different.

The apartment was dimly lit, casting a soft glow around the living room where they sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, with half-empty glasses between them. The curtains were drawn shut, blocking out the city lights, and the only sound was the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of their glasses as they took small sips.

The rest of the members were asleep or off doing their own thing, leaving Luna and Jeonghan in their own little bubble, just as they always had been.

Jeonghan had been talking about something— Luna wasn’t sure what exactly, her mind was too clouded with the effects of the alcohol and the way he was looking at her, that soft, knowing gaze he always gave her when he thought she was overdoing it. His now blonde hair, now tousled from the day, framed his face as he watched her with that same concerned look he always gave her whenever they drank together.

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow, you know,” Jeonghan said, his voice soft but amused. He leaned forward, reaching for her glass as if to take it from her, but Luna pulled it back with a childish pout, cradling it against her chest.

“I’m fine,” she whined, her words slightly slurred, but playful. She leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes for a moment before glancing at him with a half-smile. “We are so busy nowadays that we never get to just… talk anymore. I miss this.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

Luna nodded, her gaze drifting to the ceiling. The room felt heavy with unsaid words, with all the things she’d been holding back for years. And yet, there he was, sitting across from her, calm, composed, completely unaware of the storm raging inside her.

He was so infuriatingly perfect— always knowing what to say, how to make her feel safe, how to make her laugh, how to keep her at a distance just enough that she could never cross that line.

Jeonghan shifted beside her, his arm brushing against hers as he reached for her glass again, gently prying it from her hands this time.

“Nana-ya, you’ll get hungover if you keep this up,” he said, his tone more serious now. His fingers brushed hers as he took the glass, setting it aside, and she hated how even that small touch made her heart race.

If only if her heart stopped doing that.

“I don’t care,” Luna murmured, the alcohol loosening her tongue more than she realized. She slumped further into the couch, her legs stretching out in front of her, her head turning to rest on the cushion behind her.

She watched as Jeonghan stood up, stretching his arms over his head before leaning down to gently take her hand, pulling her up with him.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing as he gently tugged her toward her bedroom.

“I’m not tired,” Luna whined again, stumbling slightly as she followed him, her body swaying from the alcohol.

She felt warm all over, not just from the drinks, but from the way Jeonghan was guiding her with such care, as if she were fragile, something to be protected. His hand was steady, firm but gentle as it held hers, and Luna found herself hating it. Hating how easy it was for him to be like this. How perfect he was.

“We can talk more in the morning. You need to rest.” Jeonghan said, his voice soft but insistent. He led her into her bedroom, helping her sit down on the edge of the bed.

Luna shook her head, her vision blurring slightly as she stared up at him. “You’re too good to me, Hannie,” she mumbled, her words tumbling out without her even realizing it. “You’re… too perfect, it’s annoying.”

Jeonghan paused, crouching down in front of her, his hands resting lightly on her knees as he looked up at her with that same gentle smile. “What are you talking about?” he asked softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face

Luna's heart clenched. She hated it. Hated how effortlessly he could make her feel like this.

“You make me feel things,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “And I hate it.”

Jeonghan blinked, his smile faltering slightly, but before he could say anything, Luna let out a frustrated sigh, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder. He stayed quiet, his hands gently resting on her back, his touch light, almost hesitant. He didn’t say anything, didn’t push her away, didn’t ask her to explain. He just stayed there, holding her, letting her lean on him as the weight of her words hung in the air between them.

“You’re too perfect,” she repeated, her voice muffled against his shirt. “And I hate it. I hate that you make me feel this way.”

Jeonghan's brows furrowed as he heard her words, the frustration lacing her voice, and something in his chest tightened.

He had a feeling he understood what she meant— he wasn’t oblivious, after all. He’d seen the little signs, the lingering glances, the way her gaze softened whenever he was near. But even with that knowledge, there was a part of him that needed to hear her say it outright. To confirm what he had long suspected but never dared to address.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but probing, hoping she would clarify even though he already had an inkling.

Jeonghan’s heart beat a little faster, anxiety swirling in his chest. He didn’t move, his hands still resting lightly on her back, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her shirt. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the weight of her leaning against him.

Luna pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, her expression a mix of frustration and something else— something raw, something vulnerable.

“I hate you,” she muttered, her words slurred but filled with emotion. “I hate that you make me feel like this.”

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily taken aback by the bluntness of her statement. “What do you mean ‘feel like this’?” he asked again, his voice quieter now, a little more uncertain.

Jeonghan knew, of course, he knew, but hearing her say it— he needed that.

Luna huffed, her frustration growing as she ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands as if trying to pull herself together.

“Since we were trainees, Yoon Jeonghan,” she said, her voice rising just slightly, her words tumbling out faster now as if she couldn’t stop them. “You were always so... nice to me. Too nice. And you were always there, cheering me on, helping me, making me feel like I wasn’t alone. You made me feel so pretty… so loved… so feel special.”

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He listened, his heart pounding in his chest as she continued.

“And I hated it. I hated how much I needed that. I hated that every time you smiled at me, I felt something. Something I wasn’t supposed to feel.” Luna’s voice cracked, her frustration turning into something more fragile, more pained. “It’s been the same since we were trainees. And even now... even now, you’re still making me feel this way. And I don’t know what to do with it anymore.”

Jeonghan stayed silent, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of her words sinking in, each one hitting him like a stone, and yet... it wasn’t surprising. Not really.

Jeonghan was good at reading people, he had always sensed it— this undercurrent between them, something deeper than friendship, something unspoken that lingered in the spaces between their interactions. But hearing her admit it, hearing the depth of her frustration, her hurt... it made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Jiyeon-ah...” he started, his voice soft, but before he could say anything more, Luna slumped forward, her body going limp as the alcohol finally took over. She had passed out, her breathing evening out as she leaned against his chest.

Jeonghan froze for a moment, blinking down at her in surprise. His heart was still racing, his mind spinning with everything she had just said, but as he looked at her now, so peaceful in her sleep, all that frustration and pain gone from her face, he felt a wave of tenderness wash over him.

She looked so fragile in that moment, so vulnerable, and it made something deep inside him stir. He didn’t move right away. Instead, he sat there for a few minutes, watching her, his hand lightly brushing the hair away from her face as she slept. His heart ached for her, for the weight she had been carrying for so long, for the feelings she had kept hidden all these years.

If only things had been different.

If only he had realized sooner.

Jeonghan let out a soft sigh, his fingers trailing through her hair one last time before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. It was light, barely there, but it was all he could offer at that moment.

“Goodnight, pretty angel,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he slowly pulled away.

He stood up, carefully laying her down on the bed and pulling the covers over her, making sure she was comfortable before stepping back. He glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the mess they had left behind in the living room— the half-empty glasses, the bottle of soju, the scattered snacks. With one last look at Luna, he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

Jeonghan made his way back to the living room, his mind still spinning from everything that had happened. He cleaned up in silence, his movements slow and methodical as he cleared the table, washed the glasses, and wiped down the counter. His thoughts kept drifting back to her words, the way she had looked at him, the raw emotion in her voice.

By the time he finished cleaning, the apartment was quiet again, the night settling in around him. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, his hands resting on the back of the couch as he stared at the empty space where Luna had been sitting earlier.

If only he had known earlier.

If only things were simpler.

The next morning, Luna woke up with a pounding headache and three immediate regrets.

If only she didn’t remember what she said to Jeonghan last night.

If only she hadn’t drank so much.

If only she drank more— enough to forget.

But she remembered everything. Every. Single. Thing. And she knew, with a sickening certainty, that Jeonghan did too.

Luna stayed in bed longer than she should’ve, staring up at the ceiling as her mind replayed the previous night’s events on an unrelenting loop. The hazy confession, the way her voice had trembled when she told him she hated how he made her feel—her heart sank deeper with each flash of memory.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget, but it was useless. The image of Jeonghan’s face, so soft and caring as she spilled her heart, refused to leave her mind.

Her schedule wouldn’t let her wallow in bed, though. Today was packed with activities: music shows, interviews, rehearsals, variety show tapings, and a radio appearance in the evening.

All of them required her to see Jeonghan.

Dragging herself out of bed, Luna’s stomach twisted at the thought of facing him. How was she supposed to look him in the eye after what she said?

She could still feel the weight of his gaze from the night before, the warmth of his hands guiding her to bed, the way his lips had brushed her forehead so tenderly. Her heart beat faster just thinking about it, but now all she felt was dread.

She couldn’t avoid him. Not when their schedules were so packed together. And yet… If only she could. She pulled on her clothes, barely paying attention to what she was wearing, her mind too preoccupied with thoughts of how to survive the day without falling apart in front of him.

The day started with a soundcheck at a music show. Luna moved through the motions, greeting staff, warming up her voice, and running through their choreography.

All while keeping one eye on Jeonghan.

She didn’t have to look to know he was watching her. She could feel it— the way his gaze followed her across the room. It wasn’t unusual for him to look out for her, but today it was different. His eyes lingered too long, his expressions too soft, too thoughtful.

And yet, she refused to meet his gaze. Whenever he moved towards her, she skillfully maneuvered herself away, pretending to be busy talking to another member or reviewing notes with their staff. When he tried to catch her between breaks, she’d feign exhaustion, lying down in the waiting room, headphones in, eyes closed, hoping he wouldn’t disturb her.

He didn’t. But he watched.

During the interview portion of their music show appearance, she stood sandwiched between Mingyu and Wonwoo, grateful for the buffer zone. Jeonghan was on the other side of the group, but still, she felt his eyes on her. Every time the camera wasn’t focused on them, he’d glance her way, and she’d pretend not to notice.

The weight of it was suffocating, but she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. Not yet.

The rest of the day unfolded in a blur of performances and obligations. She danced, smiled for the cameras, and laughed when appropriate, all while dodging Jeonghan’s attempts to talk to her. When they left the studio for rehearsals, she managed to stick close to the other members, always positioning herself away from Jeonghan without making it too obvious.

But he was relentless. Subtle, but relentless.

For two days, she avoided him with increasing skill. If he took a step toward her, she’d suddenly have a question for staff or be deep in conversation with another member. If he tried to speak to her during breaks, she’d claim she was too tired or needed to use the restroom.

Thankfully, their schedules were so packed that it was easy to stay busy. The exhaustion from back-to-back schedules worked to her advantage— no one questioned why she was too tired to chat during their downtime.

No one, except for Jeonghan.

He never pressed her. Never forced her into a conversation. But Luna knew. She could see it in the way his eyes would flicker with something unreadable when she ducked out of his reach, the way his expression softened whenever she pretended to be preoccupied.

Jeonghan wasn’t fooled. He knew exactly what she was doing.

And he let her.

But there was no escaping the fact that the more she avoided him, the more she felt the tension building between them. It was like a taut string, pulling tighter with each passing day, each fleeting glance, each unspoken word.

And the worst part? She knew it couldn’t last. Eventually, she’d have to face him.

There was only so much running she could do before everything came crashing down again.

And it did.

Three days after her drunken confession, Luna found herself in the worst possible scenario— alone with Jeonghan.

It had been a long day of grueling practice, the kind that left everyone too exhausted to talk, but not too exhausted to finally notice the tension between the two of them.

Luna was desperate to get to her room, hoping to avoid another awkward interaction. She quickened her pace as soon as they entered the dorm, hoping to reach the elevator before anyone could catch up to her— before he could catch up to her.

One thing about Luna is that she hates elevators— she got stuck alone once when she was a child. From then on she never took it alone… till now, that’s how desperate she was.

She must have jinxed it.

As the elevator doors slid open, she stepped in quickly, but a second later, Jeonghan slipped in behind her. The doors closed, trapping her in the small, suffocating space with the one person she had been desperately trying to avoid.

“Fuck my life,” She cursed under her breath.

Where were the other members? Normally, someone would’ve joined them, but tonight, it was just the two of them. Jeonghan must’ve said something to the others, some quiet, strategic whisper to give them privacy.

Luna sighed audibly, her shoulders tensing as she avoided looking in his direction.

The silence in the elevator was unbearable. She could feel Jeonghan’s presence beside her, calm and unhurried.

She hated how composed he always was— how nothing seemed to faze him. Luna, on the other hand, felt like she was barely holding herself together, her heart pounding in her chest, her palms sweaty as she stared straight ahead, willing the elevator to reach her floor as quickly as possible.

But Jeonghan didn’t speak. He didn’t push, didn’t prod. He simply waited, giving her space, like he always did.

If only he wasn’t so perfect.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Luna broke the silence. "Just spit it out already," she muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes.

She knew he had something to say, something he’d been holding back for the past three days. It was the thing she had been dreading ever since she confessed her feelings to him— the thing she had been running from since their trainee days.

Jeonghan’s voice was soft, almost tender when he finally spoke. "You’ve been ignoring me."

He didn’t sound angry or hurt, just… understanding.

And Luna hated it. He was too perfect, too kind, too gentle for her own good. How could she not fall for someone like him? How could she not hate him for making it so easy?

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

Luna could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but she kept her eyes on the elevator doors, counting the seconds in her head, hoping this would all be over soon. But the words were clawing their way out of her, demanding to be spoken.

"What do you want me to say, Han?" Her voice was sharp, and defensive, as if she could protect herself with her words. "That I lied? ‘Cause I didn’t."

She finally turned to look at him, her eyes meeting his for the first time in three days. The impact of it hit her like a wave— his warm, concerned gaze, the softness in his expression, the way he looked at her like he saw straight through her defenses.

"If only it was," she added quietly, her voice breaking just a little at the end.

Jeonghan stepped forward slowly, his movements careful and deliberate, like he was approaching a wounded animal. His hands found her arms, his touch light, barely there, as if he was afraid to hurt her. He gently caressed her skin, his thumb tracing small circles against her sleeve, soothing in a way that only made everything worse.

"Jiyeon-ah..." His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if saying her name out loud might shatter the fragile moment between them.

He didn’t need to say anything else.

Luna knew him all too well.

She knew him inside and out— knew that the look in his eyes wasn’t just concern. There was something else there, something that made her stomach twist painfully.

A twinge of regret. Sadness.

She already knew what he was going to say.

And she dreaded it.

"I…" Jeonghan hesitated, his grip tightening slightly as he prepared to speak, his gaze never leaving hers. "I care about you so much, you know that, right?"

Luna nodded in defeat, biting down on her lip to keep the flood of emotions at bay. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

"But… we can’t do this." His voice was soft, so gentle as if he was trying to let her down easy. "It wouldn’t be professional. And it wouldn’t be fair to the others, to the team. We’ve worked so hard to get here, and… we can’t risk that."

There it was.

The polite rejection.

The one she’d expected but had hoped would never come. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from her lungs. She went numb, her mind buzzing with a kind of dull, painful shock.

She had prepared herself for this. She knew it was coming. But still, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

She couldn’t hear anything else.

The world around her became a blur, Jeonghan’s words fading into the background as her mind shut down, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. Her chest felt tight, her throat constricting as she struggled to keep herself composed.

If only she could forget this moment… this feeling.

At that very moment, something in Luna’s brain snapped— a survival instinct, a deep-seated need to protect herself from the pain that had just hollowed her out.

A switch flipped, and determination settled over her like a mask. She forced a giggle, light and airy as if nothing had happened. As if her heart wasn’t hanging in tatters inside her chest.

She could see Jeonghan’s face soften, but not in relief. No, his eyes were filled with something else—pain. He knew her all too well. Knew this was her defense mechanism. Her way of pretending everything was fine.

Jeonghan opened his mouth to say something, maybe to stop her from pretending and shutting him out but Luna was faster.

"It’s fine," she said, her voice calm, steady. Her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I was drunk and being stupid."

There it was.

The first lie.

And then, with a forced chuckle, she gave him the second, her all-time favorite lie, one she had practiced in front of a mirror countless times just in case this moment ever came.

"It’s a little crush. It’ll go away soon."

Luna had become so good at pretending, at brushing off her own heartbreak as if it were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

She waved her hand dismissively as if her heart hadn’t just been ripped to shreds and thrown at her feet. As if she wasn’t praying for the earth to open up and swallow her whole so she could disappear from the sheer embarrassment of being rejected.

"I’m sorry for worrying you," she said, her voice light, too casual. "You know me. I didn’t want to come off as weird and I’ve been missing my parents lately… Plus, with our schedule being so crazy, I’ve just been all over the place."

She was explaining herself, making excuses for her vulnerability, for the way her feelings had slipped through the cracks in her armor.

It was easier to blame it on something else— on homesickness, on stress— than to admit what was really happening inside her heart.

She saw Jeonghan frown, saw the worry deepening in his eyes as he tried to get a word in, but she was already moving, already pivoting away from the conversation.

"We’re okay." She cut him off, a little too cheerful. Her firm voice cutting through as if to reassure Jeonghan or more so to reassure herself. She stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, something she’d done a hundred times before but this time it felt like a goodbye. "Don’t worry about it."

As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open, and without waiting for a response, Luna slipped out, leaving Jeonghan standing there, stunned and silent.

The moment the door to her apartment clicked shut behind her, the facade crumbled.

Luna’s breath hitched, and she locked the door with trembling hands. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor, the weight of everything she had been holding back crashing down on her in one violent wave.

She pressed her forehead to the cool surface of the floor, squeezing her eyes shut as silent sobs wracked her body. The room was too quiet, the kind of quiet that only amplified the buzzing in her ears, the heavy thud of her heartbeat.

She had known it would hurt, but she hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

For years, she had kept her feelings carefully hidden, burying them deep inside her chest where no one could see, not even herself sometimes.

Luna had told herself it was better this way, safer. But now that it had all come out— now that she had laid herself bare only to be rejected— it felt like everything she had built around herself was crumbling.

All the walls she had put up, all the armor she had worn, were useless now.

If only she hadn’t said anything.

If only she had kept quiet like always.

If only she hadn’t let herself hope.

Luna was angry— at the universe, at herself because she couldn’t find herself to be angry at Jeonghan. It was not his fault after all. It’s not his fault he didn’t feel the same way, he didn’t do it on purpose. In the same way, she didn’t fall for him on purpose.

However, she was angry that she had been stupid enough to believe, even for a second, that he might feel the same way… even a little. Angry that she had let her guard down. Angry that no matter how hard she tried to let go, her heart had latched onto him with a vice grip that wouldn’t loosen.

Her thoughts spiraled, wild and desperate as tears streamed down her face. She had tried for so long to suppress her feelings, to push them down, to keep them from surfacing. But now, they were all spilling out, every fear, every insecurity, every moment of doubt.

Years, she thought, choking on the sobs. Years of holding this in, of pretending I was okay… all for what?

Luna had always known that liking Jeonghan would lead to this.

It had been inevitable, she supposed.

A quiet, creeping sense of dread that had lived in the back of her mind ever since they were trainees. She had always feared that this would be the outcome, that her feelings would only ever be one-sided, that the day she confessed, everything would fall apart.

But she had never expected it to hurt this much.

Her heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, she wished she could rip it out of her chest just to make the pain stop.

The rejection wasn’t even the worst part.

No, it was the fact that Jeonghan had been so kind about it.

So understanding.

So… perfect.

Luna hated that about him.

Hated that he had been so gentle, so considerate when he let her down.

It would’ve been easier if he had been harsh if he had given her something to be angry about. But instead, he had given her nothing but soft words, valid excuses, and apologies.

The buzzing in her ears became a dull hum as the last of her sobs faded, and in the silence, her body slowly went numb as she curled up on the cold floor, hugging her knees to her chest as she let the pain settle deep within her heart.

Luna didn’t push away the pain this time; she allowed it to consume her, to wrap itself around her heart like a vice.

Every ache, every sharp sting of rejection, she accepted it— because maybe if she let herself feel it fully, let herself drown in it for just this moment, her heart would finally learn.

Maybe this time, the hurt would leave a scar deep enough to remind her, to teach her, that hoping for more was futile. That loving someone who didn’t feel the same way was a battle she was always destined to lose.

Maybe, she thought, maybe this time, my heart will finally take the hint and move on.

But deep down, Luna knew better.

She had tried to move on before— countless times—and it had never worked.

No matter how much she wished for it, her heart had always found its way back to Jeonghan. Always.

And now, as she lay there, broken and exhausted, she realized with a painful clarity that this wasn’t the push she needed to forget him.

No.

This was only the beginning.

It was still painful, though.

Knowing that the first guy she had ever liked— the first person she had truly opened up to— would never see her the same way.

Jeonghan had been the first person to approach her, the first person to become her friend, the first person she liked, and now, he was the first person to break her heart.

If only things had been different.

Life, however, moved on.

The next day came with the same grueling schedule and the same routines. Music shows, interviews, practice sessions, and variety show appearances all blurred together as if nothing in her world had been torn apart the night before.

Luna didn’t allow any cracks to show; she was an expert at wearing her mask by now. She laughed with the other members, joked with the staff, and smiled for the fans— all while something heavy settled deeper within her chest, like a stone she couldn’t quite shake off.

With Jeonghan, it was as if nothing had ever happened. No awkward tension lingered between them, no strained silences or hesitant interactions. He treated her the same way he always had— kind, supportive, teasing her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Jeonghan was worried, of course.

Luna could see it in the way his eyes lingered on her a second longer than usual, the subtle softness in his voice whenever he spoke her name. But he didn’t push. He didn’t force her to talk about what had happened that night, didn’t ask for explanations or demand a conversation she clearly wasn’t ready to have.

Luna spoke to him like she always did, her tone light and unbothered.

Not once did she avoid him because, in her mind, avoiding him would only prove that she wasn’t okay.

And she desperately needed to be okay.

She couldn't allow anyone— especially Jeonghan— to know the truth despite knowing he probably already did.

That her heart still beat just as fast when he smiled at her, that every casual touch sent a familiar warmth spreading through her chest.

No, she wasn’t going to let anyone see that she was still hurting.

Not again.

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months and Luna realized quickly that nothing had changed with her feelings.

They hadn't diminished, they hadn't been pushed away. If anything, they only grew stronger the more she tried to bury them.

So, she made a decision: she would lock them up deep down in her chest, chain her heart, and throw away the key.

It was better like this. Safer.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

Because no matter how far Luna thought she’d thrown the key, somehow, in some twisted cosmic joke, it landed straight into Jeonghan’s hands.

Unbeknownst to her, he had already begun to notice the cracks beneath her carefully crafted facade, the moments where her smile faltered just a little too long, or when her gaze lingered on him longer than she intended.

Jeonghan, who had always been so attuned to her, had found the key she so desperately wanted to hide.

And little by little, without her even realizing it, he was using it to unlock the very heart she was trying so hard to protect.

A year had passed since that night.

A year since Luna had bared her soul, and Jeonghan had rejected her.

It was 2018 now, during the filming of the music video of their song ‘THANKS’ and the air was thick with a quiet intensity as the members pushed through a grueling day of shooting.

But even amidst the rush and exhaustion, Jeonghan couldn’t help himself. His eyes followed Luna from a distance, as they often did.

She was talking animatedly to the camera set up for their ‘Inside SEVENTEEN’ behind-the-scenes footage.

Luna’s laugh echoed faintly across the set, and Jeonghan couldn’t stop noticing the smallest things about her.

The way her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when she smiled— an indication that it was real, genuine, a smile that Jeonghan hadn’t seen in far too long. He noticed how her hair danced in the light breeze, strands occasionally kissing her face before she absentmindedly brushed them away.

Her smile stretched wide, almost reaching her ears, a sign that today, she was happy. Genuinely happy.

And Jeonghan was thankful for that. He’d worried about her for so long.

Luna turned toward him then, catching his gaze. For a moment, time seemed to slow as she smiled at him—soft, warm, real.

Jeonghan returned it with a smile of his own, but the second her attention shifted back to the camera, where she began laughing about something with Dokyeom who sneaked up on her from behind, his heart twisted in a way he hadn’t expected.

Jeonghan would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about her confession every day since it happened. Because he had. It had haunted him, followed him into every quiet moment, and lingered in every glance they shared.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it— about her. He hadn’t stopped worrying about her since that night, either.

The truth was, he admired her— he always had.

Jeonghan admired the strength she had to smile and laugh even when she must’ve been hurting inside.

He admired how effortlessly beautiful she was, today, yesterday, and every day in between.

He admired how she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders but never let it dim her light.

But as Jeonghan watched her now, laughing freely with Dokyeom, something sharp and bitter jabbed at his chest.

It was innocent, of course. Luna and Dokyeom had always been close. Their laughter was nothing more than friendly.

But that didn’t stop the sudden realization from slapping Jeonghan across the face: he couldn’t keep this lie up any longer.

The lie that he had been telling himself since the night Luna confessed to him.

When she had stood there, vulnerable and raw, spilling her heart out, he had been scared.

He’d made excuses— talked about professionalism, about the team, about the risks. But deep down, they were just that— excuses.

He had lied, not to her, but to himself.

Because he felt the same.

He always had.

And he’d been too scared to admit it, too scared to face what it would mean to let himself fall for her.

If only he hadn’t lied.

If only he hadn’t been scared.

If only he had the courage to do what his heart had been telling him all along.

But the sight of her laughing with someone else, even if it was innocent, hit him like a bolt of lightning.

The thought of someone else making her laugh like that, of someone else being the reason behind those genuine smiles— he couldn’t handle it.

Jeonghan couldn’t let someone like Luna go.

Not now.

Not ever.

His hands were clammy as he fidgeted with the hem of his top, his leg bouncing anxiously. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, it felt like it might burst out. There was a smile creeping up on his face, a warmth spreading through him, and for a moment, Jeonghan wondered if he was going into cardiac arrest.

But then, no… this wasn’t heart failure.

This wasn’t a symptom of physical pain.

This was him falling for Bae Jiyeon.

It wasn’t fear.

It was exhilaration.

It was the undeniable truth that he couldn’t keep hiding anymore. He was falling for her— had been for a long time, but now, it was clear as day. The thought of her with anyone else made him feel like he’d lose a piece of himself.

And there was only one way to fix that.

Jeonghan wasn’t discouraged by his mistakes from the past. No. He was determined now— more than ever.

Determined to make this right, to tell her what he should’ve said a year ago.

Determined to hold onto her before it was too late.

With the key to Luna’s heart, which she had thrown away in her desperate attempt to lock her feelings deep inside, now firmly in Jeonghan’s grasp, he was determined to unlock a future they both had wished for but were too hesitant and scared to reach.

Jeonghan is determined to do anything to turn the if only into an unequivocally so.

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[fungateshortcakes]

Deadly Dinner (old!Logan x fem!reader)

Pairing: old man Logan × fem!mutant! Reader

Summary: A nice family invites you, your husband Logan, Charles and Laura to dinner at their farm. You have a lovely time, yet Logan insists on leaving despite being offered a place to sleep. Maybe you should have listened to him?

Wordcount: 5.1k

Genre: angst, heavy angst, little tiny bit of fluff, follows the plot of the movie (Logan 2017)

Warnings: english is not my first languange! first time posting on tumblr, blood, goore, wounds, violence, death, X24, guns, stabbing, one time use of (Y/N)

I've never uploaded to tumblr before, so I am still trying to figure things out. Let me know if you liked it!

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You knew Logan didn't really like sitting here at the dinnertable with this new family when he was supposed to sit in his car and get Laura to her destination - which he didn't believe to be real, but what other choice did he have?

For you, this felt..nice. It was like catching a long needed break, bringing back domestic moments like this even for just a little while. You had missed that in your marriage with Logan for a long time now. He was getting old, getting tired, shutting you off more often than not. And even if this was just play pretend - Laura being your little daughter, despite you knowing her for barely a week, and Charles being Logans father - for a second you allowed yourself to be fooled and enjoy this moment as it was.

"Oh she is adorable" Kathryn cooed as she watched Laura stuff her mouth full of food with her bare hands. You chuckled nervously and went to wipe her greasy fingers clean, to which she looked at you with a slight glare. You gave her a warning glance no one else could see and handed her cuttlery. You turned back to Kathryn with a forced smile. "Isn't she just? That cute little face makes up for all the manners she doesn't have" you elbowed softly into her side, she pouted and began to eat with her fork and knife, albeit unhappy with your decision.

Kathryn laughed, remembering how her teenage son Nate was at that age. "Don't be too dramatic, when Nate was that age, he was no different" she flashed her teeth while watching Laura eat her food in big bites as if she had been starving. "I miss when my big boy was still this little" she giggled and pinched her sons cheek, who groaned in annoyance.

"How did you cope with her going to kindergarden for the first time? Nate is going to college soon and I still can't manage seeing him all grown up" The woman swooned, turning her whole attention to Logan and you, completely neglecting her food. It also had been a good while for her that she got to talk to someone about this, she was eager for a conversation.

This was awkward. Logan and you never actually had children, nor did you two want any in the first place. Not to mention the fact that Laura was no ordinary child created by the love of two people, with a normal life and normal childhood. Your mouth remained open as you looked at her. You kicked Logan under the table and looked at him for help.

He cleared his throat. "Uhm...well. I'd say Laura had a harder time than us" he chuckled, the sound more of a rasp as he scratched his neck. You quickly clocked in. "Right, yeah. When we went to bring her in for her first day, Logan had to peel her off his leg because she didn't want us to go" you smiled and leaned against Logan, his eyes softening. "She cried the whole day until we picked her up again"

A warm feeling spread through Logans chest, dulling the every day ache for a short moment at the thought of what could have been. "Aww, sounds like someone really loves their mommy and daddy." Kathryn cooed to Laura. Laura couldn't care less about the words that were spoken and didn't really give the woman any reaction besides looking at her for a split second after she noticed someone talked to her. Kathryn was a bit...weirded out, to say the least. But it was good enough.

"Nate was the complete opposite" Will suddenly threw in, chewing his food soundly. "The second he hit the ground - he was off. Like he couldn't wait to get away from his mom" he lifted his fist to his mouth and coughed "not that I would blame him-" he muttered before his booming laugh echoed through the room after his wife had slapped his arm. "I'm kiddin" he snickered, holding his hands up in defense.

The whole table laughed, some forced, others genuine. Charles cleared his throat, pulling the attention to him. "In that matter, Laura is just like her father. Ever since Logan met (Y/n), he was stuck to her like glue. And it has been that way ever since"

The family ooe'd at you both, Logan huffing out a quiet laugh as he shrugged his shoulders in that 'what can I say' way, the crows feet near his eyes crinkling deeply.

You hadn't seen him like that in ages, the expression on his face coming as close to what someone would call joy as it could with the pain plaguing him every single minute of his time.

You rubbed his back, leaning your head on his broad shoulder that slumbed only a little under your actions. "Where did the two of you meet, hm?" Kathryn asked, eager to know more about your relationship. You grasped Logans hand under the table, for reassurance of course.

"Well my, my father ran a school for a lot of years. Right, Charles?"

Charles smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, yes it was...it was a kind of special needs school" he lied, Logan softly snorting at the choice of Charles words. "Uh-huh, that's a good description" you laughed at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. Of course Charles couldn't say what this 'school' truely was. But still.

"He was there" Charles started, pointing to Logan. "And she was, too"

Kathryn clasped her hands together. "Oh! So you are something like highschool sweethearts?" she assumed, smiling brightly at Logan and you. "I guess you could say that, yes" you answered and her smile only went wider at what she heard. She put a hand over her heart. "So true love does exist, how lovely"

For her, it sounded like Logan and you had been together ever since you were teenagers. To think that your love was still strong after all these years made her so incredibly happy for you two. Truth was, back at the mansion, you were well in your twenties when you met Logan. Not to mention that he was already over a hundred years old or so at the time. Besides that - you hated each other. Which didn't mean that what Charles said was wrong. Oh no. Logan followed you around everywhere. It annoyed you and he didn't even know why he did it. Turns out, he wanted to protect you ever since he laid eyes on you. Without reason. He just did. Keeping you safe was his priority.

It still was.

Not that you weren't fully cabable of handling any danger yourself. You were a beast in combat and could heal your own as well as other peoples wounds. And yet he felt a whole lot better if he was by your side and could keep an eye out. Just in case.

After you had waited for Laura to still her seemingly insatable hunger, Logan stood up from the table. "Well ma'am, I can't thank you enough for this. Uh, it was great. But we have a long drive ahead of us, so.." he trailed off, tapping Lauras shoulder so she would stand up. You frowned up at him but Kathryn spoke up before you could. "But you need to rest, don't you?" He lifted a hand dismissively "Yeah, we'll find a motel somewhere"

You and him locked eyes and you gently shook your head, he sighed. "The nearest one is two hours from here and it's not even that nice" Will argued and you raised your brows at Logan as if to say 'you seriously want to sleep in a murky hotel when we can stay here for the night?'

"We have a perfectly fine room upstairs for your father and your daughter. And you and your wife can sleep in the livingroom on the convertible" Kathryn reasoned even further as Logan pulled Laura up from her seat by the arm. He stopped to look at the woman. "Kathryn, it's very, very nice of you, but we really should go"

Logan turned, pulling Laura along but you stood up, blocking his way. "We can leave early in the morning. Break of dawn, as it were" Charles chimed in, looking intentively at Logan. "Listen to your father. Come on, just one night. I would agree with you if you'd let me drive once in a while instead. But you'd rather drop dead than let me behind the wheel." You muttered, looking deeply into his tired eyes, your hands gently roaming up and down his sides. "You need a break. Nothing will happen, okay?" The eyecontact in this moment was important to you, yet he huffed and looked away. You quickly catched his jaw, turning him back to you. "Okay?" you asked again.

You could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes moving over your face with his internal fight. He sighed. "Okay" he whispered, kissing your forhead before stepping away. "Why don't we wash up, Pop?" Logan sighed, gripping the handle of Charles wheelchair, pushing him out of the dining area to a bathroom.

You smiled softly as Kathryn gave your daughter- well, Laura, a piece of cake for dessert and the little girl smiled softly for once. She was...just like Logan.

Turning to the big pile of dishes in the sink, you rolled up your sleves and began scrubbing at the dirty plates. You felt a presence behind you. "What are you doing?" Kathryn laughed in surprise as she watched you washing their dishes as if you were their cleaning lady. You knew the next words that would come out of her mouth would be something along the lines of 'you are our guest' and 'let me finish this up while you get comfortable with your husband'

You flashed a smile at her "You gave us a delicious meal and let us stay the night, this is the least I can do to show my gratitude and appreciation" and that quickly shut her up. She was thankful and you knew, that was all that mattered.

The clinking of cuttlery could be heard as you washed the forks and spoons thoroughly with a soap drenched sponge. It was a mindless activity for you, your hands only focused on getting every speck of left-over food off the steel and ceramic, you didn't even realise you were softly humming to yourself. Your mind was elsewhere. That's when you jumped as the water suddenly spurted all over the place, the pipes creaking dangerously. You quickly turned off the water flow before there was a loud "Ah, shit!" and the front door fell shut.

The next second Logan and Charles were out the bathroom. Will explained that the pump station that supplied them with water was a mile away and got itself shut off from time to time. From what Nate said, some douchbag men were the reason for it. No big deal, right? They still had a water tank that had been freshly filled by the heavy rain yesterday, which you used to complete washing the dishes. Yet, Kathryn wanted her husband to fix the problem right away and since he wasn't in the mood to argue with his wife in front of guests, he reluctantly gave in to go out to the fields.

"My son is happy to go with you" Charles chimed in, nodding over to Logan who looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "No, no, its fine" Will declined the offer. Partly because he clearly saw that Logan wasn't really keen on the idea and to Will, Logan looked rather tired, weary and- insustainable, not to say weak. If these assholes came, what kind of help would Logan even be? The last Will needed was to bring you back your husband, all beaten up or something.

Logan of course new better. Yes, he was weary, he was tired, but he's still got it. He'd manage, somehow. Logan threw a last glance at Charles before his shoulders slumbed a bit in defeat. "Allright, I'll go" he rasped and walked over to you. He put his warm, rugged hand on your shoulder, kissing your temple. "I'll be back in a moment, sweetheart. I will get Charles settled, you think you can handle Laura on your own?" there it was again, that slight  smirk that made his eyes crinkle. You smiled at his attempt at teasing you. If your hands wouldn’t have been sopping wet and the others weren't there, you would have certainly wrapped your arms around his neck. Instead, you bumped his side with your hip. "Look who's talking" you  teased back with a small grin. You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek- or as much as you could reach from it, which ended up being more beard than skin. "I will wait for you in the livingroom once I'm done until you get back. I love you"

Logan brought Charles up to the guestroom Kathryn had prepared and went out with Will shortly after. Before you knew, Laura had silently followed Nate up to his room. The house was quiet, even upstairs.

You hummed softly as all you could smell were the sweet soapy bubbles in the sink. You used a small bowl you filled with water from a tank under the sink cabinet to rinse off the dishsoap from the porcelan cups and wine glasses, scrubbing with a rough sponge to leave it shiny and spotless. It was a bit more tedious than if you had running water, but you enjoyed this domestic moment you had to yourself. The last few days had been draining and exhausting, keeping your stress levels high with every dangerous thing life had thrown at you.

You had hope that after all of this, after bringing Laura safe and sound to Eden, that maybe some things would return to normal, that it would get better. You just wanted your husband back. Not in the sense of him not being there anymore in the flesh- but he had been so emotionally absent from you for the past years. You loved him, and he loved you too. It was just hard to keep believing that. You always thought that you were something worth living for to him. You were well aware of the pain he went through every day, the reminders that were constantly thrown at him that he couldn't do things like he used to, the voice in his head only telling him to kill himself to get out of that misery. You had catched him more often than not playing with the adamantium bullet, sometimes even with a shotgun pressed under his chin. You'd rather not see that again- ever.

As you had finished every last piece and put it next to the sink, you searched for a cloth to rub the plates and cuttlery dry. One hand held the spoon while the other engulfed it with the rag, drying it in between every tooth.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of strong hands on your hips, the frizzy texture of a beard scratching the exposed skin of your neck. You hadn't heard how he came in. After the initial shock, you relaxed under your husbands hands and continued your task. "Are you back already? That was pretty quick. I hope these assholes didn't give you two too much trouble" you muttered absentmindedly as you changed out the dry dishes in your hand with still wet ones. "I saw Laura walking up the stairs, she is probably with Charles. Maybe you could check if she's asleep yet before we go to bed" you suggested but never heard and answer from Logan. Yet his grip stayed firmly on your hips. You figured he was just tired, too worn out to care.

His hands felt weirdly...cold. And stiff. Logans were usually warm and lose around your waist or shoulder. This felt different now that you thought about it. What happened out there?

"I'll meet you in the livingroom once I am done here, okay?" you asked then, still no answer. You could only feel his hands travel up from your hips to your waist, resting there. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" you asked him carefully. He smelled different. Like he just broke out of a medical institute, reeking like sanitized air. You grew a bit tense, and you thought he could feel that.

Finally, you decided to turn your head. "Logan-?" you asked, but before you could get the words out, six adamantium blades pierced through your torso, the tips poking out on either side. You choked out a pained yelp, your legs feeling weak. That man behind you, whoever or what he was- he lifted you up to have gravity pull you down more onto his claws. He enjoyed the gutteral cry you let out before he let his blades retract, your body falling onto the ground, your head hitting the kitchen tiles.

Blood gushed from the wounds on your waist, throbbing pain hammered against your skull. You couldn't pass out. If you passed out, you'd die. With short grunts filled with agony, you twisted your aching body to the side, your eyes glancing at the figure of a man, his footsteps thundering up the stairs. You whimpered out, but it was more of a breathless weeze. "No...No, Laura. Charles" you rasped quitely.

The world kept spinning in harsh circles. Don't pass out. Don't pass out. While you could heal, it was unlike Logans ability to do so. While wounds, cuts and bruises vanished the second he got them, or at least that's how it used to be, you had to touch the affected area with your fingers. The bigger the wound, the longer it would take for you to heal it. The bigger the wound, the more the healing process drained your energy. But you couldn't let him get to Laura and Charles. You wouldn't forgive yourself.

You jammed your fingers into the clean cut holes, wailing in pain, your body protesting against your actions as it coiled in on itself. You sobbed out as you tried to bundle your energy and concentrate it to your fingertips, the burning sensation of flesh, intenstines and muscles stitching themselves back together all over your torso.

Tears spilled out of your eyes as you wriggled around in pain on the floor like a worm that had been cut in half. You gasped deeply to fill your lungs with air, completely forgetting to continue to breathe from the amount of energy this took out of you. You tried to stand, tried to get up and save Laura and Charles. But your knees buckled underneath you and you fell back against the kitchen aisle.

With a heaving breath, you sat up to lean your back against the oven door, heart thumping against your ribcage after you heard cries and a gunshot from upstairs. Who was that guy? He had claws. Like Logan. This couldn't be, this wasn't your Logan, right? Right?

Speaking of which, your husband came stumbling into the house, only wearing his white tank, a look of panic etched on his face. As you saw him, you breathed a short sigh of relief. But it worried you even more. Because if the man that had stabbed you wasn't him- then who was he!?

Logans knees nearly buckled under him from the sight of you, your blood spilled onto the tiles, staining your shirt, smeared all over your hands and arms. He fell to his knees next to you, eyes roaming over your body. He saw the six hole shaped wounds on either side of your torso, his gut twisting nauseously as he pictured what happened.

His chest heaved, his strong arms slipping under your legs and back, lifting you up with a pained grunt. "It wasn’t me- oh god it wasn’t me" he rasped, but it sounded more like an reassurance to himself than to you. Because you knew that- he would never do that to you. He made you touch the wounds on your side with your hand, his fingers trembling as he did. "Heal yourself, c'mon please" he pleaded you, his heart squeezing deeply in his chest as he heard you whine in agony, your body too tired and weary to continue.

He brought you outside and laid you into the back of his pick up truck, pressing your hands to your torso tightly. You had broken out into a cold sweat, your gaze a bit blurry as you looked at him. You couldn't say a word, you had to heal yourself. And every breath, every exhale and mutter of our voice pushed you further away from your goal.

Logan brushed his shaking thumb firmly over your cheek, trying to soothe you. And himself. With one last longing look, he turned around to pick up Charles and Laura. But before he could open the door to the house, it was already opened and he was face to face with - himself?

The mans face and his were identical, but the stranger was youthful. No wrinkles, no scars, not a trace of grey in his buzzed hair or beard. Only a deep scowl on his face. Both held intense eyecontact but made no sign of movement. Not until Logans gaze fell downward after hearing a distressed shriek below him.

The man had Laura.

The stranger huffed through his nostrils as he shoved himself past Logan and began to stomp towards a row of armored cars, Laura struggling in the device he had put her in. "No...Laura" you croaked helplessly as you watched, your voice barely above a whisper.

You turned your aching body back to Logan, ready to beg him to save her - but he was already gone, running up the stairs to find Charles. Before you knew it, tears continued to spill out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Everything happened so fast, everything was so much all at once. You were no help, you couldn't fight.

You couldn't save your daughter.

You were on the brink of unconsciousness, your eyes falling shut every now and then as your skull throbbed with pain. You forced yourself to stay awake, forced yourself to listen to Lauras cries as a reminder what a failure you were. Logan was right, you should have left after dinner.

You saw as another three set of cars drove onto the farm, a group of men getting out and standing in the mans way. They talked to him and he lowered Laura onto the ground. You breathed a sigh of short relief, hissing as finally one wound closed up completely on both sides. Five more to go...

A pained grunt threw you out of your haze. It was Logan, with Charles in his arms. Stumbling, he brought him over to you and only then did you see the three wounds on his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as his weak body was laid next to you. "I can heal him" you rasped but Logan knew better. Charles wouldn’t make it, despite the amount of energy you would put into healing him. And the last thing Logan needed was both of you dying without him being able to do anything about it. He swatted your hand away with a hurt look. He had made a decision.

Logan and you leaned over Charles, your tear falling onto his cheek right after he took his last breath. "No..." you whispered shakily, looking up to Logan, his jaw working tightly as he blinked, as if the weight of the moment had settled within him.

An explosion went off behind you, bringing your attention to the man that had Laura. He had killed the group of farmer assholes and was now distracted by the noise and fire. That's when Logan took off.

",Logan, no!" you shrieked in sheer panic, your voice raw, as Logan threw himself at his doppelganger, stabbing him into his neck. He buried his claws into him over and over, grunting as he did. But that bastard healed instantly, just like he did once. The doppelganger roared and flipped Logan over himself, smashing him down against the ground by his claws.

You heard blood splatter, wood cracking, the cutting of blades and the screams of your husband as he was pierced by blades mercilessly, his body growing tired.

You couldn't bear to look as the man rammed his blades through Logans armpit and out of the top of his shoulder. You started hyperventilating as all you could do was listen to your husband getting killed. You cried, desperately pushing your fingertips into your wounds and getting a hold of yourself again. You had lost so much blood, it was hard to know what was up and what was down.

Another wound closed up, and another. You couldn't feel your legs as you growled out, putting the last bit of energy into healing yourself so you could help Logan. Or at least get Laura to safety.

A car crashed into Logans doppelganger, pushing him into the exposed sharp ends of a destroyed tractor piece, trapping him there. He grunted, growling animalistically, struggling to get free. Will slowly got out of the car, a shotgun pointed to the man he had just hit with his car. Frustrated and angry, he shot him three times, the third time taking his eye out of it's socket before he finally quieted down.

Stumbling, Will turned around to face Logan, the real one out of the two. Wills gaze graced over Logans withered and battled body, the way the crimson blood soaked his white tank, dripping down his arms, face and hands. It was everywhere.

Both men panted as they looked at each other, Logan struggling to stand up as his knees kept buckling underneath him. Will grunted and lifted his shotgun, pointing it at Logan with shaking hands. Logan watched, swallowing thickly before he let his head hang, eyes closing and ready for it to end.

"No! No, don't shoot him" you gasped, suddenly standing in front of Logan defensively, holding up your hand to show that you were unarmed. "It wasn’t him, please" you pleaded, but for what? That he wouldn’t shoot just because you said it wasn’t Logans fault? That wouldn’t bring his family back. So what use did it have?

You took a shaky breath. "I know that you are angry, that you are hurt. And you have every right to be" you said to him, trying to find a change in Wills expression, but there was none.

"If you need to shoot someone...shoot me" you uttered. Logans eyes widened and he hoped he had heard you wrong. "No" he slurred, a hint of desperation in his voice as he pushed himself to stand up. You paid him no mind.

"If you need to let your anger out on someone, use me. But don't hurt my husband. He won't survive a bullet. Please" you begged him. Your heart was pounding in your throat, your sides were still aching, but not bleeding anymore. Were you scared? Of course you were. Scared of death, scared of losing the love of your life, scared to leave him and Laura alone...scared to be left alone with a kid that was so smiliar to him.

Despite your pleading, Will pulled the trigger. You jumped at the sound but were pretty much still alive. His gun was empty. And he was dead. With a loud thump, the man fell to the ground, unmoving.

Both you and Logan sighed with a hint of relief. You turned to him, the sight of him all beaten up like a knife to the heart. You made him sit down on the ground, leaning him against the wheel of a tractor. He was protesting, trying to stand up. "My god, Logan, stop fussing! You can’t walk, goddamnit!" you yelled at him, which shut him up. He wasn't mad at you for raising your voice. He knew you were stressed and worried about him. You didn't mean to shout at him. He grunted as you lifted up his shirt, exposing a fleshy wound. "Sh, sh, it's all going to be okay" you breathed, fingers penetrating the wounds. He groaned out and you cooed at him, tears rolling down your face. "I'm so sorry. I'm going to heal you as best as I can, then we are going to get Laura and get out of here, drive somewhere safe, okay?" You whispered to him, watching his face contort in pain as his flesh sewed itself back together.

Logan huffed as he saw that your own wounds hadn't finished healing yet, either. He graced them softly with his hand. "Your waist.." he croaked but you shushed him. "Don't worry about me. I'll manage. But you won't on your own" you answered, already feeling a headache forming as your energy was drained, flowing into repairing your husband so he wasn't on the brink of passing out anymore.

Once the biggest wounds were somewhat closed up, Logan had already healed some surface cuts into scars himself. You kissed his forhead before helping him up, his 300lbs body leaning on you for balance.

You slotted him into the passanger seat of the pick up truck before jogging up to Laura, scooping the shrieking girl into your arms. You opened the drivers door and pushed Laura over to Logan before getting behind the wheel yourself and shutting the door. Laura yelled as she saw the dead body of Charles in the back of the truck, Logan had to hold her down into her seat as you drove off.

"What do you think you are doing?" Logan coughes roughly, you could practically hear the frown in his voice. He was displeased with you driving the car, he didn't want you to get involved into a car accident. He also wanted you to rest, this was a lot today. "Do you seriously want to start this now?" you growled at him. This was not the time to argue about mundane stuff like this.

He didn't say another word after that and you sighed deeply. "I want you to rest, okay? Just this one time, let me drive" you mumbled, tired of fighting with him. The air in the car was thick, but the car only went quiet after Logan had freed Laura from her restraints.

You drove in silence, your grip tense on the steering wheel. You felt a hand on your thigh. Logan softly squeezed the meat of your thigh, a way of him saying sorry. To show that you accepted his apology, because why should you be angry at him for long?, you put your hand over his.

You looked at him for a moment. "I love you." he said. And you were glad that after today, after everything, you were still able to hear him say that.

[dysthoepiadaily]

I'm seeing discussion about this tour being Dan and Phil using it as a final swan song, like they meant to with interactive introverts, and the idea is silly because Dan has literally talked about how he doesn't want to end it, and how he's been working towards keeping his work life more sustainable, and being careful about not overworking, as they were doing from 2011 to 2017.

I think TIT is more meant to be a celebration of the good, the bad, and the ugly of their careers, and about starting anew (all sins will be cleansed or whatever Dan said). A new, healthier era, where there is more honesty, but also more mutual respect between them and their audience. They can be honest, but they don't need to give us everything. We can watch them and speculate, but won't demand more from them than they're willing to give. It won't be "giving the people what they want", it'll be a death of that era, and the start of a new one.

[teamcavota]

50 milo murphy's law facts

5 not so fun and 45 fun!

Not so fun to start!

The only Milo Murphy's Law official merchandise is a notebook released in Japan for the MML X PNF crossover.

Disney actually apologized to Dan (and I assume Swampy) for the treatment of Milo Murphy's Law. Dan has expressed frustration at the MMLs treatment before, citing the Hiatus between s1 and s2 and the fact it did not air on the main Disney Channel.

Doof appears in more episodes than Cavendish and Dakota in s2 (this is the real reason we needed a s3). Also, while PNF/Doof stuff was planned from the start, Disney did push for more PNF.

When season 2 was airing, new episodes would randomly be released in other countries.

Milo was cut from CATU due to a feeling from Disney that audiences would not recognize his cameo.

ok LAME ones out of the way

On the first drawing of Milo there are three names beside it: Milo, Mikey, and...Monty. As you probably know the Mikey one got pretty far and is the name used in the pitch bible (and was referenced with "I am Mikey!".) The reason Mikey was changed to Milo was not a creative choice, but because there was a popular YouTuber named "Mikey Murphy."

Speaking of, Milo was also just going to be another character apart of a different pitch, but Dan kept thinking he should go into his own show. He went to Swampy and asked him what he thought of Milo (at the time Mikey) and the idea of a show about Murphys Law. it took them about an hour to come up with the concept pitch.

You can find several of MML song dubbings on YouTube and other platforms. Most notably the Japanese version (マイロ・マーフィーの法則) highly worth checking out. Fun fact in a fun fact, Doof and Dakota also share the same voice actor in this dubbing.

In re-airings of some of the first MML episodes, second versions were made that included Cavendish and Dakota in the background.

Yes, Melissa was originally going to feel the lasting effects of the pistachion uprising by remaining looking like one instead of Bradley having his arm turned into a vine. This would have been a source of conflict for her in season 2, but in the end they felt it was too much of a change. As far as Bradley's plant arm it was originally only going to come out sometimes before it was changed to being a constant thing. He does have feeling in this arm.

The Island of Lost Dakota's was going to include a scene with merman Dakota's ("merkotas"). There was also going to be "mutation" Dakotas, such as ones with multiple heads.

There exists a live action version of the Milo Murphy's Law theme song. well, sorta, watch it

Before Milo came out Dwampy made the song "we're gonna do it again."

MML was originally set to debut in early 2017.

Weird Al did not originally come to mind for Milo. One of the idea voices they had was Noah Z Jones (Fish Hooks). They auditioned hundreds of people for Milo, but many had issues such as sounding too nervous in their lines. It wasn't until Alex Hirsch (Gravity Falls) posted a photo with Weird Al that Dwampy realized he'd be perfect for the role.

Sara is based on a friend of Dwampy.

In tune with the popular headcanon/fan theory, it's possible they did actually consider making Cavendish a descendant of Milo. When Cavendish was going to agree he also liked Milo, he was going to say he was his descendant. *this may have also just been a joke line

Milo and Cavendish are meant to mirror eachother in the fact Milo deals with Murphy's Law and Cavendish is the "author of his own misery" in regards to things going wrong.

Another thing they considered was the possibility of Dakota and Cavendish being in a romantic relationship, but they ultimately decided they wanted them to have them represent a strong male friendship.

The Milo Murphys Law crew did keep up a fanart and concept art wall. Here, here, and here are some photos.

There was a baby Cavenpus cut from final productions.

There are no official ages for Dakota and Cavendish. Dan has said he believes Cavendish to be older, while Joshua Pruett has said he believes Dakota to be the older one and by a bit of a margin.

Pistachios came to be a thing in the show because a son of some of Dan's neighbors had been allergic to specifically pistachios. They needed an idea for the larger plot and somehow those two came together. (Swampy also notes it's a funny word).

Several of the scripts for MML storyboarders included just the words, "and Murphy's Law happened."

Dan has made at least one Vinnie Dakota dedicated Tiktok similar to his Doof ones.

The Doof and Dakota lines were recorded together, back and forth.

Melissa was going to have a hamster nemesis named Ham. In the Pitch Bible the name wasn't included, but it's explained it was a pet class hamster that would always escape and end up on her things.

The secret handshake Milo and Zack do in scream-a-tourium was intended to be longer.

The studio executive for MML originally thought The Island of Lost Dakota's was a joke idea until he read the script.

There was a MML kids menu at Disneyland circa 2016.

Dakota and Cavendish were originally not in the shows ideas, nor was any B-plot, but being used to it in PNF the writers room felt they "needed something to cut away to"

Joshua Pruett pitched for the MML x PNF crossover for where when Milo opened his backpack to pull out the thing he needed to save the world it'd be...Phineas and Ferb.

Dakota is the reason parking tickets exist, as he can be a bit careless about leaving time vehicles all over the place. Dakota is proud of this.

Melissa's likeness and name is based on Dan's daughter Meli, as to sorta "balance out" Isabella also being based on his other daughter.

They considered a twist where Bob Block would be an alien wearing a face mask.

"Cavendish Farms" is an episode that never came to be pitched by Pruett where in order to track Cavendish Dakota would try to duplicate Cavendish, though none of them would quite be Cavendish. One of the Cavendishs would have a heart to heart with Dakota, while Doof would ultimately call out Dakota for what he's doing and tell Dakota "you already know what he would do." dwampy rejected this idea because this was a bad idea, to which pruett felt that is exactly why Dakota would have tried it. if renewed, pruett would have tried to convince them more on it.

Chop Away at My Heart was originally called "Jump Jump Jump" and was made for another project by one of Dan's friends. After Dan have asked to transform it into something else for Milo, Joshua Pruett suggested a "Lumberjack themed boyband" in the script.

unfortunate split for character block limit

Dakotas voice was inspired by Elvis Costello. It's also the harder voice for Dan in comparison to Doof.

Mark Hamill originally auditioned to play a teacher on the show, but Dwampy liked his audition so much they decided he'd better fit Mr. Block.

In the MML pitch bible it is stated, "Mikey has a destiny to fulfill, something vital to the future of the planet." The goal of Cavendish and Dakota would be to make sure he stays on the right path.

There IS a full version of We're Going to the Zoo, which was played by Dan in this interview at 3:00:30. Several MML songs have had full versions leaked, implying this is probably the case for some other songs too.

Like several other characters, Sara in the MML pitch bible was different from her show counterpart, being "a hipster like Thora Butch in Ghost World."

The song "A World Without Milo" is based on the song "Happy Together" by "The Turtles"

Almost every character, including creatures or minor one-offs had a name in the script. An example is "Pia," the name of the poodle Diogee falls in love with.

In regards to when Dakota talks about cutting through the Mesozoic in First Impressions and the fact it is illogical, Dan says this is likely just Dakota being Dakota (aka, it was a mistake), and not every such line should be taken serious.

In a deleted "Snow Way Out" line it was confirmed that the raccoon in Going the Extra Milo and Fungus Among Us is recurring raccoon.

Brick and Savannah were going to have a role in the crossover.

Story ideas from the MML pitch bible that never came to include a beach episode, a Friday the 13 episode, and an episode where Cavendish and Dakota try convincing Milo to take a self defense class leading to conflict with a hidden ninja gang.

For unspecified characters (probably multiple different sets) Pruett wrote in hugs that were cut by (mostly) Dan. In response, he says he "put 4 in so at least 1 stays."

S3 would have likely included: A third Block (yes, still voiced by Mark Hamill and a Block "family meeting"), Milo creating the universe, Dakota and Cavendish getting the promotion they wanted but being unsatisfied, Elliot cleverly being connected to the overarching plot, AU exploration (akin to pnf) including an episode where Dr Zone is real, and a conclusion to the Prof Time arc. The overarching plot would have been the "biggest yet."

credits to: danvillecheese for suggestions + encouragement, cheetochild989 for facts the fact about going to the zoo and a world without milo, the 2nd dimension on YouTube, my hamsterward friends, and of course all the talented people who worked on MML :3

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write for katie where her and reader have a child and readers admiring them playing together

Mo Stór

Katie McCabe x reader

-> Watching Katie play with your daughter will never get old

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

People could say all they wanted about Katie on and off the pitch, and no matter what she did there would always be someone who would not like her – so she gave up on getting people to like her and just started being herself.

That’s why you fell in love with her all those years ago. It was so easy to fall in love because the Irish woman was just so lovable.

When the then twenty-two-year-old had returned from her loan spell to Glasgow City, she was a changed woman – more mature with more bite and goals in life as she returned to Arsenal, and you. You, her girlfriend since 2015 – but that title would not hold much longer, because upon returning, Katie proposed to you.

It was a lovely day in – you had woken up together and prepared a nice brunch before going for a walk outside. It was as romantic as Katie would get, still keeping her humor that had won you over in the first place – handing you a ring-pop at first before pulling out the real one.

The wedding was small but everything both of you wanted, taking place in Katie's hometown of Tallaght where you had set up in a stunning barn. The footballer’s entire family was there, as were most of the Arsenal girls that could make it – for you however, there were just a couple of friends that had come.

Same-sex marriage had only been legal for two years in Ireland It was after the wedding that it would be legalized in Germany where you were from. And while your parents were not necessarily against it, they also weren’t fans of it – opting not to make an appearance.

Later in the year, in October 2017, after many conversations you had started the first round of IVF, thankful for the chance of having a baby together. And to everybody’s surprise, it worked. The first round worked. Both of you were incredibly happy and after a hard pregnancy, Aine Lily McCabe joined your little family in July of 2018.

---

---

Now in 2023, the five-year-old was still the light of your life – making every single day better than it already was. You thought life couldn’t get better after Katie, but you were wrong, Aine made life just a little more colorful.

With Katie being a footballer, her schedule could be crazy, but your teacher lifestyle came with a very consistent week, which made everything much easier, there always would be difficulties - like on that particular day. Aine’s Kindergarten was closed due to sickness, but you had to work – leaving Katie with her spitting image at the Arsenal training grounds.

You had been scared that the day would end in a catastrophe, but the girls loved ‘their youngest member’ and Jonas was happy to have her as well as she was a nice distraction from the serious topics and hard training.

After finishing for the day, instead of heading home, you opted for the Arsenal Training Center, desperate to see your girls after a long day. Once parked, you didn’t even need to check inside, hearing the girls yell from the pitch – so you just followed their noise.

It was now the midst of October and the Arsenal girls were preparing for their game against Aston Villa. You could see your breath due to the cold, as you walked the way to the pitch. It was chaotic, and the girls were playing matches on smaller fields, with fewer people – but there were 2 games at the same time.

You could see Aine sitting on a jacket by the side of the pitch, a beanie much too big to be her own, on her little head, hiding her brown hair. She was dressed appropriately in a warm sweater, with a big jacket on top, not even remotely cold as you shivered on your way. Pulled over her jacket was a bright yellow bib, that marked one team from the other. And after a glance, your guess was confirmed, that Katie was also wearing yellow.

“Hiya baby!” The little brunette squealed as you plucked her off the ground, swinging her back and forth before sitting down with her on your lap. “Mommy!” Wet kisses were littered all over your face – something else that she copied from her mother. “I missed youuu!” She sang the last ‘u’ while pouting adorably. “Missed ya too baby.”

A shrill whistle marked the end, two sets of women cheering in victory, as the opposing teams looked disappointed. It didn’t take your wife long to join you, taking her biggest fan out of your arm, and settling her on her hip, before pulling you up by your hands. You couldn't even register anything as fast as she had already roped you into a deep kiss, as Aine hid her face in Katie's neck. “Come on a stór – show me watch ya got.”

Katie had taken her little stór, her treasure with her, setting her down and explaining where to steal a ball from, when a long, lanky arm found its way around your shoulders. Viv was smiling at you, giving you a quick hug, before Beth could get there first. “What a bad wife you have – doesn’t even give you a jacket.”

The three of you chuckled as you pushed the blonde off, picking up Katie's discarded jacket from the ground, and pulling it over your own. It was nice to chat with them even if you saw them just a couple of days ago – there was always new gossip to gather. The whole team was obsessed with your student's gossip – and while you would never tell important or confidential stuff, the ‘who-loves-who’ was very interesting to the footballers.

“Oh, look at Aine go!” It was Alessia who made you look back to your daughter. The five-year-old was sprinting down the pitch, Kyra by her side as Katie was ‘trying’ to defend the goal where Sabrina jumped from left to right. The Australian passed Aine the ball, who just stretched her leg out and it went in. Leaving a stunned Katie and Sabrina.

Loud cheers made your daughter shy, as Kyra picked her up, throwing her in the air and catching her again. The brunette walked over to her mom, hiding in her legs, with a broad smile on her face. “Mama, I made it!” Your wife could not help but laugh “You did baby, but right now, I’m your opponent, not your friend, right?” She had crouched down by now, wiping some dirt off your daughter’s face. “No, you are Mama. My Mama.”

Meanwhile, you stood at the side of the pitch, staring at your gorgeous wife and daughter. Viv and Beth were quite amused at your speechlessness. “Recon if they were alone Mrs. McCabe would jump her bones right here and now.” You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how fast you looked at your friend. “Beth!” The couple walked away chuckling to themselves.

You had not moved an inch, watching Katie kick the ball at Aine, who sent it back to her. It was adorable. Whenever a ball went to wide, Katie would run after it, reassuring her daughter that she did a great job. Big smiles on both their faces. Smiles that looked almost identical.

Katie was so incredibly great with Kids, that it made you cry sometimes. She would always make time for the little girls and boys who wanted her attention or signature, even if she was already late. She really listened to them, getting on their level, meeting their eyes, and never took them as too young or inexperienced when she talked about something serious. Katie took the time to explain, helping your daughter with homework when you were just too tired.

Your wife by now had noticed your starring, a smirk on her face as she sent Aine to go with Kyra to the changing rooms. Your daughter abruptly took the Australian's hand, tugging her with her. Once Katie stood in front of you, she covered your very cold ears with her warm hands, giving you a passionate kiss after making sure that you were the last ones outside. “What are ya starring at, lovie?”

The smile on your face was love-drunk, and Katie loved it. “I want another one.” You had buried your head in her neck, trying to hide your hot face – but she quickly nudged you out of it. “Huh? Repeat that for me, my love.”

Her smirk was unbearable to look at, as hot as it was. “Could’ve sworn ya said you want another one.” Your nod was enough to earn you another searing kiss that left you breathless. “I really do Katie. Do you- I mean do you want another one?”

“Mama! Kyra stole my shoeeee!” Your wife pressed her forehead against yours, keeping you close. “We’ll talk about it when we get home, yeah?”

“Kyra! Give it baack! Mama!” Apparently, Aine had found herself a big sister in the Australian who was standing in the hallway, holding a tiny shoe in her hand, pretending to throw it outside. “I’m coming mo stór!”

[verstappentime]

Max mutes the TV, hoping that will get Charles's attention, and doesn't look at him when he says, "I think I'm in love with Daniel." AKA: it's 2017. charles is max's best friend in the whole world. they're turning 20, max wins in malaysia, charles wins the f2 championship, and max needs to tell him something. also: a little coming of age precursor to my unfinished maxiel divorce fic.

maxiel + max & charles | hurt/comfort & dealing with their respective hard years | 3.4k

Max has not gotten to hug Charles in so long. That's what he's thinking when he stumbles down from the podium.

Just a few minutes ago, he was livid at Prema and their stupid safety car cockup. Then he was elated as Charles crossed the finish line, and he triple checked the points to confirm – he really is champion. Now, Max just wants to see him, desperately.

Someone takes the bottle of champagne from Charles, and Max makes his move, crashing bodily into him. Charles isn't like him – he doesn't freeze, just wraps both arms around Max and hangs on. 

He had been worried about Charles not having family here. But he's reminded, as that feeling of coming home blooms, that he does now. 

Neither of them say anything for a beat. Then Max, newly bigger and broader than Charles, hefts him up and spins him around and they both start screaming. "Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc–" Max stops to breathe. "You are the motherfucking 2017 F2 champion!"

Charles is breathless. He looks the happiest Max has seen him in four months. "Oh my god. Holy shit."

Charles has won a lot of championships in his life. But this one means the most. They both know it. 

Max sets him down. "Was that the French anthem?" 

Charles nods, pained. They manage to stay straight-faced for about five seconds.

It takes them a good two minutes to stop laughing. Max's ribcage actually hurts.

"I am so glad my dad was not here to see that," Charles says, once he's done gasping for air.  His smile twitches, though. Max pulls him back in for a hug.

"I am so proud of you, okay?" He presses his nose into Charles's hair, even though he's sticky all over with champagne. Herve would be proud, too, but Max will tell him that later, in private. 

Charles clings on. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it."

"Of course I made it. Did you hear what I said?" 

"Yeah." Charles's voice sounds wet. Max just keeps hugging him. "Thank you." 

"I mean it. You are so fucking crazy, oh my god," Max continues. "I don't know how you did that." Max had nearly looked away, that last lap with five cars on the back of him, not wanting to see Charles lose his win. Stupid to bet against him.

"I didn't lift the throttle," Charles says. His shoulders are shaking. Max can't tell if he's laughing or crying, but he thinks it's the second one. Max doesn't let go, incase he doesn't want anyone to see.

"Your tires were, like, a banana." 

"I know. I thought probably I would bin it." It's Charles who finally pulls back. He rubs his face with his sleeve, and Max wonders if he knows he's just smearing champagne around.

"I sent some videos to your mom, of the podium. I muted them." It gets Charles to laugh again. Max has more to say. He isn't good with words. "You're going to get the seat," he says. Maybe he shouldn't. But he's never been more certain. "You're going to race with me next year." 

"Better watch out, I guess," Charles says. 

&&&

Max got them a fancy hotel room. Having a lot of money is still weird, but he likes to spend it on stuff like this. He likes comfortable beds and having a lot of space and a big shower. He likes being able to bring Charles with him. 

It has two queen beds, even though he's shared a bed with Charles a thousand times before. He thought it would be nice. 

They're crowded on the same one for now, Max watching the history channel with subtitles on and Charles curled on his side, fucking around on his phone. He's getting congratulations from everyone he knows. Charles is popular. It's a lot of people.

After the sprint tomorrow, they'll find something to celebrate, but for now it's good to just. Be around someone who knows how to be around him. 

Max mutes the TV, hoping that will get Charles's attention, and doesn't look at him when he says, "I think I'm in love with Daniel." 

He's been wanting and wanting to tell Charles. He thought maybe when they both got back to Monaco. But it keeps trying to jump out of his throat, like he swallowed a fly or something.

He's never been nervous to tell him anything before, but as soon as it's out, his heart starts beating fast. Charles is taking too long to say something.

"Okay," Charles says, finally. He pushes himself up to sit beside Max. "That's okay."

Charles likes boys. Max has known this since they were twelve. But Max has only ever had a fleeting interest in anyone, and it's never been important, and– and now Daniel is important, and he has to think about it all. He doesn't want to.

"I don't know about being gay or whatever," he says. He still isn't looking at Charles. "I don't know if I am."

He's had sex with girls and he'd liked some of it but maybe not enough. He's had one weird hookup with a guy, a friend of Charles from school or something, after their birthday party last year. He liked that more but he was drunk and sleepy and they called it off after he sucked the guy's dick. Charles had been pissed that it happened while he was sleeping on the couch in the same flat and never asked Max any questions about it. He didn't want to dissect it then and he doesn't now. He just – liked that guy's dick, and he likes Daniel.

He knows what he likes to look at and think about, but only things in real life matter. 

"Okay," Charles says again. His voice is careful. "That's fine. We can skip that." There's a hand, gentle on his wrist. "I knew there was something going on with you." 

Max has been a little off, he knows that. He wants to talk about Daniel all the time and he's worried that he'll do it too much, so sometimes he just doesn't say anything. Charles asks about his day and he tries to sum it up: The team went to this, the team went to that. I'm tired. It was a long day. The car is shit. The car isn't shit. Something something. Charles has asked if he's okay. Max has been trying to be okay whenever Charles asks, this year. 

"I don't know if I– if I'm in love with him," he says, and his voice cracks. He finally lets himself look at Charles, needing, suddenly, to see acceptance on his face. He's the same as always, big green eyes soft. Max tries to say the next part quickly. "I know he's older than me and stuff. I don't want it to be true but I think it is." 

Charles moves so he's sitting in front of Max, criss-cross, and squeezes his ankle. "It's okay if it's true. You'll figure it out. I'll help."

"I think it's true," Max says. He wants to cry. 

"It's okay if you like him. It's good to love someone." Charles keeps his hand on Max's ankle. Touch has always been instinctual for him. Max has never been like that. "I wish you weren't hiding this from me."

"I wanted to tell you. I was waiting." 

"You told me now. It's okay." 

"It feels weird," Max says. He is really hoping he doesn't cry. He can't be crying over his teammate. He has to see him in a few days, at the factory. 

"It is weird," Charles says. He was always in love, when they were kids. Max never was. 

"I used to think I was in love with you. When we were like, thirteen," Max says. He can say it now because he knows it's not true.

"Yeah, I know." Charles is grinning at him. It's the way he looks when everything's going to be okay. "You were always staring at me with your weird bug eyes." 

"I just thought maybe," Max says, and he coughs out a laugh. "But then I realised you are so annoying and I didn't want to kiss you." 

"And you do love me," Charles says, shrugging. "That's different. Do you want to kiss Daniel?" 

That's easy. "Yes. I want to so much. And always I want him to talk to me and be near me and I get jealous if he's not. Or when we go to these things and he doesn't have time for me. And if he helps me with my helmet or something I want to throw up." 

"But it feels nice too, yeah?" Charles is searching his face. 

"Yeah. It feels nice." 

"Okay. Then it's a good thing." A lot of the time, Max feels like he's too old for everyone his age. But Charles has grown up a lot the past three years. He looks so much older than nearly twenty, right now. Calm and sure. It's soothing. It's that grating two weeks where they're not the same age. But maybe Max can be the younger one for a moment. 

"I want it to be a good thing," he says, and he sounds small and more unsure than he ever hears himself.

"You aren't not telling me stuff, right?" Charles lays his hand on Max's shoulder. "Max? Because of– because of Papa and everything?"

"I—" He's just trying to be okay when Charles asks. He doesn't know how to say that. I would die before I would make this worse for you, maybe. He chews at the cuticle on his thumb. "I haven't told anyone," he says, lamely. Charles just keeps watching him. He doesn't move his hand. He looks like he's caught Max doing something he shouldn't. "You had a championship to focus on," Max tries. 

"I won it now. So now you will talk to me, yes?" 

"Yeah." Max swallows. He'll have to. He wants to talk about Daniel all the fucking time. He's not that strong. He tries to let Charles's touch be comforting. He's in love with Daniel and someone knows. Charles knows. He wants to hear more about it. He's not angry. It's good. It should feel good. "Can you tell me how it's okay again?" He's needed to hear it so long. So, so long. 

Charles looks sad. "Come here." He untangles himself so he can flop onto his back. It's been a long time since they could do this, since Max could curl up perpendicular with his head in Charles's lap. It's nice and he didn't want to ask for it. 

Maybe if he has a boyfriend one day they won't do this anymore. He wants one but only if it's Daniel. Maybe Daniel won't care. 

Charles scratches his scalp, the way his mom does, when he's too tired to even talk with her when he comes home. Probably Charles did it first. He didn't see his mom for a long time. "It's okay," Charles says. "It's okay. It's a good thing, Max." 

He breathes. Daniel is a good thing. Max will be able to talk about it now. That's going to be better. Maybe it can feel like something new growing in his chest instead of something festering. "It's stupid," he says, just so Charles will tell him it isn't.

Charles says, "Loving someone is never stupid." He hesitates for a second. "I keep– all the time thinking about how life is short. You know. Because Jules– and Papa– It's. What's the word in English? Like I am obsessed?" 

Max's chest tightens. He wishes he could see him. Charles doesn't see life as fair or unfair, but Max does, and Charles hurting is fucking unfair. "Yeah, that's the word," he says.

"Anyway," Charles says, after a long, shaky moment. "All the time, I think about it. And I think if you love someone it is going to be a waste of time to pretend that you don't, or say it's stupid." 

He sounds grown up. Really, really grown up. He sounds right, like Max should trust him, the blind way a child does. "Okay," he says, quiet, like a secret. "I might not tell him though."

Charles starts petting his hair again. Max really hopes he hasn't made him sad. "What about Malaysia?" he asks, and he sounds normal. "Was it fun, with him?" 

Max tells him about the day of his real  birthday, about how they couldn't go out because of the race the next day but the team brought him a cake. It was Daniel who brought it out to him. Maybe it was his idea, Max doesn't know. But he looked happy. He said something about how it would be nice not to have a teenage teammate anymore, but not in a mean way. It felt like he was excited about Max's birthday, too.

"And everyone was so happy that I won," Max says. "Daniel was, even though he didn't win. He said it was like a birthday present, except for I earned it." Max's dad has been angry at him, about the season being shit. The win wasn't good enough for him and he didn't call, but his mom had been really happy, and Daniel had, too, and Christian, and GP. Charles had called. It was nice. It felt good, when Daniel hugged him and said he'd done an incredible job.

"You both looked really happy on the podium," Charles says. "You have some nice pictures now." 

"I saved them in my phone," Max admits. They do look really happy. He thinks sometimes he's the happiest he's been, when he's around Daniel. Winning, and with Daniel. He feels bad thinking it, when he's here with Charles– but it's different. Love feels different. 

Charles doesn't say it's weird or anything. "Good. Then you can look at them." 

He peppers Max with questions about their night out on Sunday, for his birthday and for the double podium. He talks about how they had an expensive team dinner and GP said some nice stuff about him before they had another cake. Charles stops him. "What kind of stuff?" 

"I don't know. Like about how all of his wins have been with me and it's special." He'd said how Max is really kind off the track and people don't always know that. He'd said he's the most talented driver he's known, and Max had thought maybe that was unfair, because Daniel was sitting there, but it had felt– really good. He doesn't want to tell Charles all of it. That can be his to keep.

Charles hums. "Okay, and then what?" 

"Me and Daniel and some of the guys went out to a club. You would have liked it. I– I wanted to kiss him a lot. The whole time. But I didn't. But it was good. I liked that he was there." Max feels around for his phone, unlocks it and passes it up to Charles. "You can look at the pictures. Some of them are funny." 

"I will kill you if there's nudes in here," Charles says. Max reaches back to wack him on the arm. 

"There are no fucking–" 

"I don't know, Max, I'm pretty sure that is a dick." Charles sounds deadly serious.

Max flips himself over. He doesn't even have time to panic before he sees the wicked grin on Charles's face, and lunges at him.

"Give me that, you shithead, oh my god–" Charles holds the phone aloft so Max can't get it. 

"Oh, hey." Charles bats at Max, half-hearted. "Daniel texted you." 

"No he didn't, you fucking liar." Max pushes himself up so they're level. Charles looks thoughtful, squinting at the screen like he's reading something. Maybe he's not– "Charles. Come on. It's not funny." 

Charles passes the phone to him. He's smiling. "I think I like him very much." 

There is, after all, a text from Daniel. It's a picture of his laptop screen. It's got the F2 race on, Charles in P1, with the whole pack behind him, just before the finish line. INSANE race, mate!! Tell him congrats from me!! That's my ROTY vote in the bag!! We are screwed when he comes to F1 tho. Hope you're having fun, England wet and boring.

Daniel likes exclamation points a lot. He likes making texts longer than they maybe have to be, and adding irrelevant details at the end. Max didn't ask about England. But he likes that Daniel wants him to know. He likes that Daniel watched Charles's race, and acknowledges how fucking good he is. He likes Daniel so, so much.

"That was nice," Max says. It sounds stupid.

"Text him back," Charles says. "Tell him I am the best driver in the whole world, and if he sends nudes you can show those to me." 

Max glares. "I will tell him your IQ is seven, so he doesn't have to worry." 

"I don't even know what that means," Charles says, but he sing-songs it, which means he's pretending. He speaks English perfectly fine, until Max is insulting him.

Max ignores him. He tries to sound normal in his response, like he hasn't just confessed he's in love with Daniel outloud for the first time ever.

Charles says thnx!! Prema are stupid idiots, I cannot believe he won. Glad I made it. Be in MK Monday, think of a good prank for GP. He wants to put a heart, but that feels stupid. It's just. He wants Daniel to know.

Something new happened today. Something changed. You changed me. You might never know, but you did. He can't communicate that with a fucking emoji.

Eventually, he puts three little race cars and the tranquil looking smiley face, and passes the phone back to Charles. 

Charles flips through the pictures without being a fucking dick. He laughs at the ones of Max eating limes at the bar, because he was fucked up and thought that's what they were for. Daniel snapped one of Max passed out in the taxi that Charles sends to himself. "I will think of a use for it later, there is a joke there," he says.

"You're annoying," Max says, but doesn't protest. It will probably be funny.

Charles scrolls some more. "Max," he says, quiet and serious. "Did you see this one?" 

When he gives Max the phone, there's a picture of him and Daniel on the screen. His forehead is pressed against Daniel's shoulder, Daniel's hand light on his back. They're laughing, and they look really, really happy. "I didn't look at the ones with Daniel. I didn't know if– if maybe they were embarrassing." Max presses his thumb to the picture, like he could transfer himself back into that moment.

"They're not embarrassing," Charles says. "It just looks like you love him." 

&&& 

Prema fucks up again, and Charles is P7 on Sunday. Neither of them care. Max takes him out for his birthday. He's a world champion. Even if it's been hard to carve out good moments this year, it's a fucking good one.

Charles hugs him extra tight when he leaves for the airport, hungover and dreading going round and round in the sim. "You'll talk to me," Charles says, not a question. 

"I will. Promise." Max pulls him back in for another hug. "I'm so fucking proud of you. Just–" It's hard to leave him every time. To think about the bad days coming and going without Max there. But Charles has other friends. He has his family. "Just. I'll see you soon." 

Charles presses his face against Max's shoulder, just for a second, and then he lets go. He doesn't like to say goodbye, and it's not for that long anyway, so he doesn't. 

Later, Charles texts him a screenshot. It's of a guy who sort of look like Robin Williams but isn't. There's movie captions on it. Our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once. He always does stuff like this. Sends Max quotes and sports highlights and things, little bits of wisdom anywhere he can find them. Max likes to text all the time, but mostly stupid shit. Charles is always with the drama. 

This one, though. He sits in his plane seat and reads it a few more times. Charles writes underneath: Not stupid. Don't ignore it ❤️❤️

Max reads it again. The not-Robin-Williams guy isn't wrong.

He sends back: I'll try, and makes the picture of him and Daniel his background.

[sinofwriting]

Figlia Mia - Charles Leclerc

Words: 6,231 Summary: When she had met Charles Leclerc for the first time in 2017, she watched as her grandfather gave him the impossible task of restoring Ferrari’s greatness and her the task of making sure he does so. Note(s): This was a lot of fun to write. I got to do a lot of digging into Ferrari’s history in motorsports and F1, and make sure that the changes I made to the history of Ferrari made some sense. I also got to reignite my love for stats and things. I spent a lot of time looking at different circuit stats (which will be relevant in the second part of this fic) and just driver stats. Used a translator for the Italian but not google translate. Also, I shouldn’t have to say this but: How I write the drivers in these fics is not based on my feelings for them, it is just what I need them to be. So, please don’t send me hate because your favorite driver says or acts or is regarded in a certain way. Thanks! Hope you like this!

Masterlist | Support Me! | Part Two

Figlia mia - my daughter stella - star

2017

She eyes her grandfather wearily. He had called her home early from her classes and she had rushed home to Maranello.

“Nonno, what is the matter?” His gaze turns to her and he smiles, the solemn look on his face gone as he sees her. “My stella. You are back home.” His accent is thick as it wraps around the English words, always willing to indulge her. She sighs, leaning down to hug him. “You called me back. Did something happen?” He shakes his head, patting her hand when she straightens. “No, I have a meeting that I want you to attend with me.” She frowns. “It is late in the season for a meeting. Did Vettel or Räikkönen break contract?” “No. It’s for the team, but more of a future prospect.” Her frown deepens. “If it’s Hamilton, he won’t leave Mercedes and you shouldn’t entertain him, Nonno. You only have so much energy.” “I don’t want to take him from Mercedes. He wouldn’t be able to win with us anyways.” He groans as he thinks of how long it’s been since his team has won, and has achieved the greatness they are supposed to. “I just want your opinion, they should be here any minute.”

An uneasiness sits heavy in her stomach at how cryptic he’s being with her, something he never is, but she sits in the chair beside him. Taking his hand in both of hers and breathing a sigh of relief at the strongness still in his hands, no shakiness to be found. He was in good health, she reminded herself as they waited. He hadn’t even had a cold for three years, but still her mind worries.

“Mr. Enzo, Stella, your guests have arrived.” Anita’s voice says through the intercom. He presses the button to talk. “Please have Andrea get them and bring them back and tell him to stay as well.” “Andrea is here?” He hums, “I asked him to come. I have an idea.” She doesn’t say anything else to that and keeps quiet as she waits for whoever to arrive.

There’s a slight relief in it not being either Vettel or Räikkönen, she wasn’t keen to meet them for the first time right now, not when she had rushed home. She also didn’t want her grandfather meeting them now for the first time, so late in the year where he could catch an illness.

A knock sounds on the wooden door and she turns her head to look at it. Releasing her grandfather's hand from hers and moving to stand behind his chair. Her normal position in such meetings.

“Enter.” He calls and the door opens. “Signor.” Andrea greets, as he steps into the room, two, or rather one man and one boy following behind him with wide eyes. “I have your guests.” “Please sit, the three of you.” He tells them and they all quickly do.

Her eyes narrow as she recognises the familiar face of the man who is currently running the Ferrari Driver Academy and the just familiar face of the current F2 champion. The sight makes her want to lean down, to question why a F2 driver of all people is being allowed to meet her grandfather. A luxury he hasn’t afforded a single F1 driver since her father died other than Michael Schumacher. And even then he had won a championship first with them. But such a thing isn’t not her place, especially in front of guests, so she keeps quiet as her grandfather does as well, clearly waiting them out, letting the tension in the room build.

“Charles Leclerc.” Her grandfather says and the boy practically jumps. “You started winning in karting before you were even ten in 2005 and never stopped. A second place in Alps, then fourth in the European F3.” She watches as he winces at the reminder of what he clearly views as failures. “But you won your first year of GP3 and now have won F2. Truly impressive.” His eyes are still wide and they dart to the left before returning. “Thank you, Signor.” Her eyebrows raise at the way the Italian term leaves his mouth. He clearly had invested time in his Italian lessons. “Don’t thank me. You’ve done well for yourself. And now you have an F1 seat.” Her eyes darted to Andrea, “Nonno.” She hisses, stepping forward. “Andrea has signed the appropriate NDA’s and contracts, stella. There is no need for your worry.” This meeting seemed to be nothing but worrying for her. And suddenly the employment contract she had seen in her inbox for Andrea makes all the sense, especially since it had been sent to her directly, not cc'd.

“You will be joining Sauber this coming season. Are you ready?” “I hope and believe I am.” “And you have a team? A trainer, your own PR manager? A assistant?” Charles shakes his head, cheeks red. “I’m afraid not. I only signed the contract two days ago. I haven’t made arrangements.” “And your plans for the 2019 season? Still at Sauber?” “I only signed a one year contract with them. So I hope to stay with them if I can.” He hums and the tone if it tells her everything she needs to know and it takes everything in her to not show the horror she’s feeling. “There will be a spot open at Ferrari for the 2019 season. Show me you can handle an F1 car and perhaps it will be yours.” The three sitting opposite stare at him with wide eyes and Charles’ mouth is open, jaw dropped. “And Andrea will be your trainer. I have a good feeling about you Charles Leclerc, prove me right.” He then nods his head towards the door and the three scramble to stand and leave with rushed goodbyes.

She stands behind him for a moment before walking around the desk and flopping down in one of the seats.

“That boy is going to get destroyed.” “He is a boy to me. Barely a year younger than you, I believe.” She scoffs, “please, nonno. You have just put the biggest weight on his shoulders. Prove to me? And what if he speaks of this? Of getting to meet the great Enzo Ferrari when the man doesn’t leave his house and hasn’t met any drivers or even team principals in person since Schumacher.” “Then you will handle it, I suppose. And I will be proven wrong about the boy since he had to sign an NDA. Not a word of this meeting or this trip to Italy.” “And if people ask about Andrea? How they met? How he came to work with him?” “The academy put them in contact together. And no one will think anything of it. He is too distantly related to think that we have anything to do with it. Nor has he ever spoken of us.” His eyes soften as he really looks at her. “Everything will be fine, stella. I have a good feeling about this one.” She looks at him, worries still sitting heavy in her stomach, horror too, because god what if her grandfather had just sentenced him to forever chasing a dream he can’t have and faith in them that they are unable to deliver. She knows already that both Räikkönen and Vettel are feeling that way, their faith in Ferrari wavering if not gone. “I won’t be able to do anything to help him. Not for years.” “You will be able to help. Not as much as you will in a few years time, but you can still help. We still make decisions for the team and sign off on things.” “And if he leaves before then?” “He won’t.” His voice is quiet, but filled with unwavering faith. Faith she wants to feel herself. “He will be what our team needs to become champion and he won’t leave until he gets that.”

2018

“Vettel is not happy that he wasn’t told before about getting a rookie as a teammate.” She tells her grandfather, looking over the top of her laptop at him. “Sebastian will deal.” Enzo coughs. “And he won’t have a rookie as a teammate.” She makes a humming noise, looking at all of the articles about the announcement of Charles Leclerc joining the historic F1 team before opening her email again. “Should I cover Andrea’s costs again?” “Yes. As long as you aren’t in power with the team, I want Charles kept close.” “That won’t happen until the end of the 2023 season. You want us to pay for Andrea that long?” “Andrea is also family.” He reminds her, before lips twitch into a smile. “And there is a reason he doesn’t receive as large of a Christmas bonus as everyone else anymore.”

2020

“They want to sign Sainz for a two year deal.” He snorts, “and for what? Let me guess sponsors?” “They’re serious about this, nonno. His team has already approached us about a two year contract.” “And he can’t go to Aston because Vettel is going there for two years.” “And he’ll never go back to Red Bull. Mercedes won’t entertain the idea.” “But we are?” He groans, running a hand over his face. “God, what has happened to this team? He hasn’t gotten a single podium, a win! And he’ll hit a hundred races this year. That is who they want on the team?” “He was sixth in the driver standings last year.” “Could he handle it?” She frowns. “Maybe. We wouldn’t know until it happened. He’s older like Vettel, has more experience as well than Leclerc. But Leclerc already has wins under his belt, managed to get fourth in the standings in only his second year. He was teammates with Verstappen in his rookie year, so it’s possible he could handle it.” “A two year contract, huh?” “Two years.”

2022

“Sainz wants to be extended.” She rubs at her forehead, the email, moreso the wording was troubling. “And why should we?” “Because he finished ahead of Charles in the driver's standings last year.” “By less than ten points and due to our own team's failings. They way they embarrassed him in Monaco.” He shakes his head, the rage he felt that day watching it happen coming back. “Four podiums to one. And neither got a win.” “Who needs a seat?” “There’s rumors about Schumacher.” “No.” He shakes his head, fingers beginning to tap against his desk. “Maybe in a few seasons, but not now.” “Bottas, Guyuan, De Vries, Hulkenberg.” He scoffs at all the names. “A friend at McLaren said they’re looking to drop Ricciardo.” His fingers stop. “Ricciardo. He’d understand his role.” “And as long as we treat him better than Red Bull did or how McLaren are, we’d have him.” “Why do they want to drop him?” “Underperforming. Norris is doing better.” He looks at her disbelief. “Please tell me that’s a joke.” She shakes her head. “He gave that fucking fake British team their first win in a decade!” “He’s older and despite his knack for giving good development advice, they’re ignoring it for Norris’.” He rubs at his forehead. “Write him down. Maybe we can get a talk with him before another team manages to snatch him up. Who else?” “It’s all reserves and formers now. There’s Piastri who's serving as Alpine’s reserve this season, wouldn’t shock me if they’ve already signed a contract with him for the next year but haven’t announced it though. We or Haas really has Illot still under contract as a reserve.” He shakes his head. “Leave him in Indycar for a few seasons. Might try him in 2024 when we’re looking for another driver.” She nods, writing his name down with 2024 beside it. “And Piastri?” “No. Alpine probably has something signed with him already. They’d be stupid not to.” “That leaves Ricciardo and Sainz.” He frowns. “Reach out to Ricciardo. We nearly had him for 2021, we should’ve taken him.” “Understood.”

As she begins to type out her email to Ricciardo’s team and she wonders how Blake will react to seeing an email for Ferrari, Enzo speaks.

“How is Charles?” “Nonno.” “I can’t ask?” “You are fishing.” She replies, not looking away from her laptop. “But he is good. Ready for the season to start.” “Hmm. And will he be coming for dinner?” She pauses her typing, looking at him. “Are you asking him to come to dinner?” “I’d like to meet the boy that has made my granddaughter so happy.” “Oh, nonno. It is not a boy that is making me so happy. Just you. You have been in better spirits for the last year.” She laughs. “And isn't it interesting that it was only when you started seeing him that both of our spirits rose?” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t make me take the Leclerc name.” It’s a high insult to the Ferrari name, one that her grandfather has made sure that she knew better to even joke about, but he doesn’t react with his fiery temper, just smirks. “It’s serious enough for marriage but not for you to bring him to meet me?” Blood rushes to her cheeks. “You have met him.” “When he was a boy.” He counters. “One you had distaste for.” He reminds her not that she has ever forgotten.

She had told Charles on their third date about it, watching as his mouth gaped at her, unable to believe that the boy he was at the age could be distasteful. Now, he likes to tease her about it. About how she didn’t like him but as soon as he left the room and she was issued the challenge of making sure he got to Ferrari she did.

“I haven’t met him since. I haven’t met him as your partner. And we both know that you’ll be taking each other's names.” “It is too early to say that.” She tells him, voice quiet. “But I’ll message him. He’ll love to meet you.”

2023

“This is ridiculous!” “I told you that this would happen! You put your hopes and dreams on a boy and look at what has happened!” “I did no such thing!” “You did! And I told you that you would ruin him. That he would lose faith just like the ones before and now look.” She waves a hand at the TV in front of them, playing the lowlights of the season. “He didn’t just go to that meeting with Red Bull and then shut it down like he has before, he entertained it.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “He should’ve left us for them when they first fucking offered.” “You do not mean that.” “Look at what our team has done to him! Look at what you have done! I have no power there and barely do you. I get to vote on what drivers we add to the team, but it is one vote, against six others. Same goes for the general direction of the car, which we both were out voted in. And that is it, that is my power! I don’t get to give him the Ferrari team he deserves, that we deserve, because you signed it away when my father died until I turn twenty-seven!” She turns away from Enzo, taking in a shaky breath, before turning back to him. “And you will not ever bring it up to Charles that he considered leaving us or if he does. Because I set up that meeting with Red Bull for him.” He looks at her resigned, saddened, but not surprised. “You would let him leave?” “I don’t let him do anything. I love you, nonno. I love this team. But it is not just Charles that they are disappointing and letting down. It is our fans, our people, our family, our legacy, me, you. Next month, I get to finally take back our families power in the sport and it is already too late for this season and nearly too late for the next. I can’t even guarantee a good first season with me in charge because of where the car is already developed too. And the upgrades.” She shakes her head. “None of it would matter with the team that is working there.”

“What do you want to do?” She looks at him, struggling not to cry, and she folds herself down in front of him, taking her hands in his. “A new structure and house. The voting can stay, but it has anonymity, we don’t talk about who is going to vote for what, only after the votes have been cast we talk, discuss, but with us having the power to veto if decisions are being made too much on outside factors like money and perceptions. Drivers who have multi-year contracts starting next season can be present for the votes, hear why we voted for what we did and even jump in on discussions if they feel inclined. We change. We have been stagnant for too long. We need new blood and beliefs.” He starts to shake his head and she squeezes his hands.

“Nonno, please just listen to me.” She pleads. “We need a complete overhaul of the team, you know it and have said it yourself. I can’t just hire Italian first, not when that has ended with us where we are now. I can offer everyone severance packages, pay for it all myself, but no more Italian first. We take who is best suited for the team and hope they are Italian. Maybe we baptize them if they aren’t.” His lips quirk into a smile. “The strategy team needs to go, PR, social media, the race engineers.” “Sainz likes his race engineer.” “Sainz also likes to say that he comes up with the strategy used in the races but as soon as they fail, he backtracks. He is a fair driver, but he needs to be retrained in PR.” “His family needs a gag order.” Her grandfather huffs. “Yes, but that is not something we can do. What we can do is get him retrained and get a new PR manager for him, same with social media. Charles will be getting the same. He needs an image refresh.” “This is what you want?” “Yes. I want to bring our team back to greatness. I already have the people I want for the team, I’m just waiting for your approval and for the next month to pass before I start sending out contracts.” He sighs, looking in pain. “Can they at least speak Italian?” She smiles, standing to press a kiss to his cheek. “They can learn and they will quickly.” Another sigh leaves him but he smiles, warm and gentle at her. “Mia figlia, la mia stella, fai quello che devi. Il mio supporto è tuo, sempre.” My daughter, my star, do what you must. My support is yours, always. “Thank you, papa.”

October 23rd, 2023

She stands facing the back wall of the room, listening as the door opens and people trudge in. She tries to count the pairs of feet she hears. She knows how many are supposed to come to this meeting, how many she asked to come, but it wouldn’t surprise her if someone let slip that the new boss, and the big boss at that, had arranged a meeting that a few people would try tagging along.

It’s the sound of the door shutting and then locking from the inside that has her turning around, giving a nod of thanks to her bodyguard, Roman, who inclines his head before retreating to the left front corner of the room.

“I see you all made it.” She says, her Italian accent barely noticeable around the English words and she can see a few faces turn confused at the English. Ferrari was Italian, they spoke Italian, had meetings in Italian. And more importantly, she was not just Ferrari, but a Ferrari. One that only three people in this room had ever met in person, and only two others had seen her face because of video calls. “Good, let's talk about the dumpster fire that was yesterday.” She can see a few faces balk at her words, but it’s Sainz’s that gets her attention. “You don’t agree?” “It was an unfortunate thing that happened to Charles, but I still ended up in P3.” “Due to a disqualification. Which is also what happened to your teammate. This also is the third time you’ve ended up on the podium due to such a thing. Let us also not forget to acknowledge that while the FIA didn’t check your car, like they should have after finding that two of four of the cars they checked had issues with their planks, doesn’t mean we didn’t.” He frowns and so does a good majority of the room. “I don’t understand.” “Your planks were just like Leclerc’s. Just barely under what they should be. But still enough for disqualification.” Eyes widen and she continues. “Not that it matters, because I won’t be alerting the FIA of such a thing. Not when the teams didn’t get enough time to set up the car because of the sprint format and I don’t think we need to give McLaren more of a jump on us.”

Walking around the room, she nearly pauses behind Charles' chair. Wants so badly to squeeze his hand, to offer him comfort or a way to get his frustrations out, but she continues until she is at the front of the room.

“The FIA won’t get rid of sprint races, but myself and a few other team representatives, will be going to them with a new sprint format for the next season hopefully or for at least starting the 2025 season. I expect both of you,” she looks at Sainz and Charles, “to voice your support. And I’m sure Red Bull, Williams, Mercedes, McLaren, Aston Martin, Alpine, and Haas, will be saying the same to their drivers as well.” “You want us to support a format that could be worse?” Charles asks, and she can see a few shakes of the head at him. “No, I want you to support one that is better. For Sprint weekends, you will have free practice one and the sprint shootout on Friday. On Saturday, there will be the sprint, followed by second free practice, then qualifying. Sundays of course will just be race day. Does that sound worse?” “No. You think the FIA will go for it?” “The FIA won’t have much of a choice. And besides next year allows each team to have more tyre’s allocated, they’ll want something extra to help burn through them to make it more interesting.”

“Now,” She lifts the lid of one of the two file boxes she has. “Leclerc, Sainz.” Both grimace at the use of their last names, but she catches a glimpse of amusement from Charles. “I have meetings with both of your management teams after this. Sainz, you’ll be getting a new PR manager, Ana. She or her assistant Val, will be with you for every event, interview, or anything else PR wise. Sometimes they both will.”

She turns her head to look at Charles. “Leclerc, you're getting an image refresh. I’m not letting a driver for this team have a vast majority of people thinking there’s nothing behind your apparently good looks.”

“Why isn’t Charles getting a babysitter?” She raises a brow at the tone and question. “Ana and Val aren’t babysitters, they work in PR. They will be retraining you. Because at the moment I could be breaking your contract right now with four races left in the season due to the public clause and if you have to ask why, you need more help than I thought.” He looks at her in shock and she can see a few people in the room shift uncomfortably. “Also concerning both of you, you both will have new race engineers in Mexico. Your previous engineers were lacking.” They both look uncomfortable with the decision but don’t say anything and she turns her attention to Fred.

“Fred.” “Ms. Ferrari.” She smiles at the title, though there’s nothing polite or happy about it. “This is your team is not?” She gestures to the drivers, the heads of different departments that all sit in the room with them. “Yes.” “Then, why am I doing your job for you and handling them?” With that she starts throwing out the severance packages onto the table. When she runs out of ones in the first box, she takes the lid off the second and just tips it over, letting them spill out.

“Severance packages.” She states, seeing some people's confused looks. “Some are effective immediately. Others will be given after the last race.” “Fabio’s name is here.” “So is Gualtieri and Cardile. They have been given generous severance packages.” She reassures. “You will meet their replacements either later today or in Mexico.” “They are heads of their departments!” “And they have failed at their jobs. As has everyone who has been issued one of these.”

—

“How did they take it?” “Safe to say I haven’t made any friends.” “So, it's going well.” She snorts, smiling at Charles as he enters her hotel suite. “I’m fairly certain they all would like to burn me at the stake.” Charles frowns. “Not Charles of course.” “Is he there?” “Just got here.” She confirms. “Do you want to talk to your grandson?” She teases and predictably Charles flushes. “Yes, yes. I want to make sure that he’s taking care of you, protecting you.” She rolls her eyes at the last part but passes the phone to Charles, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she does before stepping around him to her open laptop.

Leaning against the desk, she stares at the list in front of her. A list of drivers, currently on the grid, reserves, and not yet on the grid. Before the halfway point of the 2024 season she’d either have to sign contracts for one new driver or two for the 2025 season and now it just came down to who she wanted to reach out to.

A good amount of them are already on the bottom half of the page under the bolded words, not an option.

Verstappen was there, both Mercedes drivers, Bottas, Hulkenberg, Magnuessen, Alonso, Ocon, Stroll, Perez, Norris. She chooses not to look too closely at the fact that she doesn’t have Piastri there. She’d buy out a contract if need be and she knew Mark. If she proved that Ferrari could improve and be a winning team under her, he’d be willing to help her break a contract or two.

She jolts when a pair of lips presses themselves to her forehead, her phone being set down next to her laptop. “Your list is interesting. No Antonio?” “He’s a good development driver.” She says, typing his name out under not an option. Charles hums, sitting in the chair and then pulling her onto his lap, carefully pulling her legs to hangover the arm of the chair. “You have two Indycar drivers under possible.” She shrugs. “I’ll watch closely as the first few races go for them. They only have contracts for the 2024 season.” “Not that it would matter.” She grins, huffing out a laugh. “Not that it would matter.”

She watches as he peers at the list, his hands rubbing at her calf. “You have a lot of no’s.” His eyes narrow as he scans it again. “Mick, Ollie, and Vesti all under maybe?” “Vesti’s done well for himself, Mercedes is just going to waste him. Especially if he’s any good in an F1 car. Bearman’s had a strong first season in F2. Schumacher,” She hesitates. “I’m not keen on the idea. Especially with two seasons out of F1, but there is the opportunity to put him in Alfa Romeo.” “But Valterri and Zhou.” “Valterri knows he won’t be promoted back up. He’s doing good for being at Alfa Romeo, but he also has a lot of other ventures and pursuits. I’d like to keep him for another year or two after for development if I can.” He hums, “Alex and Schwartzman?” “Albon is sticking to Williams like glue. Which is understandable after Red Bull, but there’s hope.” She doesn’t mention that she’d think that he’d be a good teammate for Charles. “Schwartzman is already under contract with us. Just as a reserve and for testing, but who knows.”

He presses a kiss to her shoulder and he reads the top of the list, the possibles. He had only skimmed it before, but now he gives it his full attention.

“I’m on here.” “Yes.” “But,” “You don’t have an extension with us. You are only contracted with us for this next season. And as much as I’d like to keep you as would the fans and nonno, we haven’t proven that we deserve to have you here. I have to keep my options open that there will be two drivers I have to sign for 2025.” “I don’t like it.” He tells her, frowning. He didn’t like to think about not being at Ferrari, at the possibility of it, especially now with her at the helm and already making drastic changes. He didn’t know yet if those changes were good or not, but it felt like they were, he hoped that they were.

Piastri, Ricciardo, Drugovich, and he blinks as reads the last name, saying it outloud. “Sargeant. You have Sargeant under possible? Not a maybe but possible?” “Sargeant would sign a contract with us in a heartbeat, no contracts to break. 2024 will be a one year for him.” “Something has been signed?” She shrugs, “it’s common sense to keep him. Otherwise they’d just be dealing with a whole other rookie.” He sighs, jaw twitching. “I don’t like it. He has only scored a point because of my disqualification.” “I know.” “He has cost them much.” “I know.” Charles pouts, “he is American.” She lets out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “That will be your issue with him? His Americanness?” “Yes.” “Well, it’s just a possibility.” She smiles, before leaning down to press their lips together in a quick kiss. “Now, tell me out of everyone in the maybes and possibles who you’d want as a teammate.” “And what? You’ll make it happen?” “If I can give you a good season next year, I’ll do everything I can.”

He eyes the list, taking in the names he mentioned before and the few he didn’t.

Pierre would end in a dumpster fire and he was selfish enough to say that he didn’t want him as a teammate so they could keep their friendship, one so close to his heart. Lawson was an interesting idea, he had performed well for having to suddenly jump into a car. Alex would be a good teammate as well and he knew that Alex would also love the development side of things like he did.

He didn’t know enough about Drugovich or either of the Indycar drivers really. They had performed fair in F2 and were doing well in Indycar, but it was unknown. He could see them both though at Alfa Romeo. Ollie was too young to step into such a huge seat, maybe for him also Alfa Romeo in 2025 and by 2028 he’d be ready to step in and then take over a seat.

Oscar and Sargeant are both interesting for completely different reasons. He wishes that she had gotten power in the beginning of 2022 and when the Alpine drama happened, snatched Oscar up.

But there’s one name that he keeps on looking at, that’s circling in his head.

“Daniel. If I could have anyone, I’d want Daniel.”

There’s a shared pained history there and Charles knows that he took what was going to be Daniel’s seat in 2019 before Ferrari really started gunning for him while Renault took a keen interest in Daniel.

Charles could still remember around the fifth race of the 2020 season when Daniel had cornered him, looking nervous to be around him for the first time since their accidentally shared Vegas trip that made them break the ice. Daniel seemed so much smaller as he asked Charles if he’d be okay with them being teammates next season, and had seemed shocked by the relieved and happy grin Charles had given him.

She hesitates, “I never said anything, but I tried getting Daniel for 2024 and even 2023 when the rumors about McLaren dropping him started up.” “But Carlos?” “He asked for an extension, but nonno and me wanted to present a different option. But by the time I reached out, Red Bull had managed to snatch him back up. He’s only with them though for 2024. He’s free after that.” “So, you are saying?” He hopes. “I’m saying that, I’ve already reached out as of yesterday. Red Bull isn't in any hurry to get him under contract for 2025 and Blake has made it clear that Daniel isn’t signing any contracts until May or June to them and us.” “Which is enough time to prove that the team is improving.” “Yes.”

He stares at her wide eyed speechless. “What does that mean?” “If we improve?” He nods. “We sign you and Daniel until 2027.” She pauses, hesitating, but she won’t lie to him now. “We let you two battle it out at the beginning of the 2025 season. If Daniel is scoring more points, higher on the podium than you by break, you defend. We’ll ask you to let him pass if both of you can get on the podium or he has better pace and can get on it. We let him become world champion first. And it would go the other way around as well.” He rolls the idea in his mind, lets it sit in his stomach. “Daniel Ricciardo the 2025 world champion and Charles Leclerc the 2026 world champion.”

He lets them sit in the air, the idea of practically another three seasons before it could happen. Could he wait that long? Watch as Daniel got it before him? Watch as his teammate got it before him? Could he let himself be sacrificed for his teammates gain again? He thinks it over, because it is not fair for her to ask, to say, but that is what driving in Formula One is. It is not fair, with unequal machinery and only twenty spots available. To have to worry not just about your race but also your teammates depending on where the point standings are at.

But she is offering him something that he wasn’t before and with clearness, transparency. Not something that will be dropped on him in the middle of the race or as he’s about to finish lap ten or fifty. She’s telling him now what to expect and how it will go. She’s letting him know that it doesn’t matter which one is in the lead for the championship, just that whichever one isn’t when they come back from break, will be defending and he thinks now of her emphasis on the word. Not sacrificing, but defending. She wouldn’t let either of them be compromised so badly that they drop either low in the points or out of the points completely, but she would ask that they defend the other.

“I want it. Even if I do have to wait an extra year. It’d be worth it.” “And if you won in 2025 and then Daniel in 2026?” “We could trade off years, but I want it, I want that.” She smiles and there’s something sweet and dangerous about it. “Then I’ll make it happen.”

@eleetalks @cixrosie @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @benstormy @bibliosaurous

[stephiramona]

The tale of two cities according to Heiko and Stephi - Part 500

Unbelievable! This is the 500th part of our "Tales"! So Heiko and I thought that something special was needed.

But first of all, we want to thank you. You are fantastic, and without you and your comments, this wouldn't have been the same.

In the past years we have visited each other a few times, and this week we both wrote something about what we think the biggest differences of our hometowns are.

Let's start with Heiko's text and the photo (the first one) he took in Munich:

Today is our 500th Tale, which is pretty unbelievable. Yet, I admit that we are repeating ourselves a lot when it comes to the seasons (watch our for Christmas time) and we might even have repeated ourselves in some subjects. Still, we are doing the Tales for almost 10 years, a feat neither Stephi nor myself would have ever thought we would accomplish.

We also visited the other person’s city a couple of times and there are some differences about them. Picking out one, I would say that Munich is just bigger and you really need some time to explore the city. It just looked vaster to me. It seemed that you always need e tram or train to get to another spot. In Cologne, on one of Stephi’s trip, we went on foot and within a couple of hours I was able to show her the heart of the city with some of the most important places. I admit that if we took a tram, we would have been able to see other spots as well that are not in the center but more on the fringes, but you can spend a couple of days in Cologne by foot and see a lot of great and important places. I never had that feeling in Munich as the tourist attractions and other cool places were further apart.

Basically, you can spend a day in Cologne and see a lot of the city. I don’t think that would have been able in Munich. Yet, it’s well worth to spend more days in Cologne and go into some local pubs to get to know the people of the city and it’s flair. That will pass you by when you are only in the center that is usually crowded with tourists.

Another difference are the temperatures I experienced. Today it was cold and windy in Cologne. But I have never felt temperatures like on that trip in January 2017. That was cold and could have served as my own personal hell.

My picture from Munich is from that cold January trip and I am trying to show the vastness of the city.

Other things are petty similar though. I have seen some cool parks in Munich in which people hang out. The same is true for Cologne.

Since I spend most time with Stephi and Pete (and Fern on one trip), I didn’t get know other people from Munich. But according to Stephi, the people are pretty cool and open minded, other than the impression you get from Bavarian’s politicians and the way people vote. Cologne also praises itself for being open minded and I usually find that to be true.

I could probably go on for a while but I still want to thank you for sticking with us, reading our Tales and responding from time to time. I rarely respond but I really do appreciate your comments and feedback, read and enjoy it. Thank you all very much.

Now to my text and the photo I took in Cologne:

I think, Cologne and Munich are both great but very different cities. During my visits to Cologne, I was most impressed by the cathedral and the river Rhine. We inhabitants of Munich love our cathedral but - if I'm honest - the "Frauenkirche" isn't very impressive. At least not as impressive as the "Kölner Dom". Munich has a sweet little river, the Isar. It's nice for swimming and for spending some quality time. The river Rhine is way bigger and more impressive, but it's not a good idea to swim in it. I guess, you can't have everything. In my opinion, both rivers belong to the highlights of our respective hometowns, but in a different way.

Munich is close to the mountains and has beautiful surroundings. If you ever visit Munich you should take the time to visit the surroundings as well. Munich and Cologne look very different but the biggest differences for me are the people. When I was in Cologne, I found the citizens so nice, and refreshing, funny, and honest. During my first visit to Cologne, I took a taxi and the taxi driver wasn't only funny, he even wanted to share his breaktime snack with me and offered some radishes. I can't imagine something like that happening in Munich. Munich's citizens are more stiff and not as open as the ones of Cologne are.

Have you ever visited both cities? What do you think are the most differences of our hometowns?

[hannieehaee]

SINGING LOW (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

content: idol!mingyu x hybeidol!reader, pining, mingyu's kind of a slut, smut, afab reader, reader is a 97 liner, dry humping, a lot of made up shit abt the industry lmao, mentions of other idols, oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, angst, fluff, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.7k (teaser) 13k (full fic)

FULL FIC HERE

Or you can check it out on my ko-fi today by subscribing here and going on the fic here

a/n: this is not connected to my lil idol!mingyu x idol!reader series just fyi <3 also i decided to open a ko-fi!! (stop booing me pls T-T) here's a link to the details! anyways hope u enjoy this ive been thinking of this trope for a while <33

masterlist

Mingyu could still remember the day he met you. Well, maybe not met, but it was the first time he ever saw you face to face. It was at some awards show back in 2017. MAMA, was it? Or maybe the MMAs? Well, that didn't matter much. All he knew is that on stage, you had caught his eye.

It was only about a year into his debut, so he still wasn't too used to this scene. He simply sat back and enjoyed the pretty sight in front of him, knowing your group (and you) by name, but not having had the pleasure of meeting you personally by then. He hadn't met many people thus far, actually. At the time, most of his friends in the industry consisted of the twelve other members of his group. Coming from a small company, it had been hard for any of the members to begin to disperse and befriend their peers in the industry. Sure, they all had friendly acquaintances with other idols, but nothing could really compare to what they had with one another.

It wasn't until somewhere around 2017 that Mingyu had finally found a group of friends outside of his twelve members that he could trust. He had always been an outgoing guy, befriending anyone who'd look his way. He reasoned that someone had to be the icebreaker in every social situation, and he had given himself that job. Despite being a charismatic extrovert, however, most of these friendships did not stick. He developed many acquaintances, and maybe even situational friendships, but he had not really considered anyone a friend until meeting one Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook was simply the tip of the iceberg. Some believed Mingyu had taken the man under his wing, while others believed the opposite, but it had in fact been a mutual aid. They had both felt a bit lost at the time they met, bonding over the many things their lives had in common. Their age being one of them. At first it was thrown around as a joke, the idea of forming a little group with the many other 97-liners within their industry. But that joke became reality soon after when Mingyu had met Yugyeom backstage during his group's most recent comeback at the time. The three soon became four, taking in a Cha Eunwoo, and then a Jaehyun from NCT. Even some of Mingyu's own members joining, having the privilege of being born on the great year of 1997. This was how you eventually entered the picture.

Mingyu had already known you, well, more so known about you. Despite being the same age, you had debuted a couple of years before Seventeen, which gave him the opportunity to get to know you as an idol before he did personally. He still remembered the days in the green basement, watching comeback shows with the members as they prepared for their own debut. There had been a specific day when your group had been presenting their newest comeback, which was also the day Mingyu first caught sight of you. You had caught his eye immediately. There was just something about you. He might've developed a slight interest in you from that moment on, hoping for the day in which he would become one of your peers.

Upon debuting, Mingyu had only seen you in passing for the first few years, the closest contact being a quick and informal introduction between your groups as you cruised through the backstage hallways of MNET. You looked even better in real life, he had to admit. But sadly, there was no one-on-one interaction between you that day. Nor was there during any of the following encounters throughout the next few years. It wasn't until a few years into the creation of the 97 squad that Mingyu had the pleasure of meeting you personally.

It was sometimes Jungkook who brought in new members to the friend group, but it was mostly Mingyu who would take the liberty of befriending the aforementioned members in order to introduce them into the group. It was mostly due to Mingyu's extroverted personality, which allowed him to strike up conversation with anyone at any time, unlike Jungkook who was a bit shier in that aspect. It had been Jungkook, however, who had first introduced the two of you. It had been backstage of MAMA or MMA, he wasn't completely sure. Mingyu also wasn't sure how you and Jungkook had met; he'd never bothered to ask, but upon your first meeting it had seemed like the two of you were close friends already. Mingyu had to admit that upon that first assumption, he was a bit jealous of his proximity to you. This was immediately followed by the realization that maybe Mingyu's previous infatuation in you went further than mere interest in you as a fellow idol, but it was maybe a bit of a crush. Regardless of what Mingyu had felt at the moment, he knew that he wanted to see you again.

For some unknown reason, you were not present in the following 97 gathering soon after your introduction. This struck Mingyu as strange, seeing as you were also a 97, and a friend of Jungkook's, so why would you not be present? It was soon after revealed to Mingyu that you had yet to be offered a spot in the now renown 97 squad. Jungkook had assessed that all the dating rumors that would come attached to the inclusion of a girl in the group were simply not worth it. He wanted to save you both the headache and the scandal. It seemed like a pretty reasonable decision. Mingyu, however, was not the most reasonable of people, often allowing his decision-making to be led by impulse rather than calculated choices. Which was why Mingyu had found himself walking up to you next time he spotted you at yet another comeback show, promptly asking you if you'd like to meet some of his friends sometime in the following week, claiming it was tradition for all 97s to go for a drink every other week. He felt like he was inviting you to join into a cult, or at least that's what you said to him it had felt like. But you had still agreed, giving him your number so that you could be privy to the details of the meeting.

Your admission to the friend group came very naturally, having already met a few of the members and easily befriending the rest. Yes, it had come with some controversy at first, but Mingyu had come to learn that you were quite strong-minded, not allowing a few rumors to get in the way of your personal life. It was easy for the two of you to grow close after that. Despite having befriended the entirety of the group, you and Mingyu seemed to form a more special bond, even seeking each other's company outside of group gatherings. It was all platonic, of course. Mingyu had quickly realized you did not seem interested in that way, so he tucked his crush deep within him, choosing to offer a friendship to you instead, never speaking of his crush to anyone. This was how the two of you came to become best friends.

This repression of his feelings, however, did not come without its consequences.

Mingyu was a hopeless romantic at heart. This meant that his crush never really went away. It actually worsened over the years that he knew you. But you never acted like anything other than a friend to him. You would always treat him the same way you did Jaehyun or Eunwoo. He was just another one of the members of the friend group to you. Yes, you two were closer in nature – calling each other the best of friends within the industry – but Mingyu did not want to risk that closeness just because of a selfish crush.

The repression of his feelings was also met with other things. Mingyu was a very loving man. He needed to express his love to everyone around him or he would physically explode (Okay, not really, but he swore that's what it felt like to him). He had a loving family to tend to by taking care of them financially and spending every waking minute away from work with. He had his thirteen best friends to shower with playful affection during and out of work. He had his 97-liners to play around with in between work schedules. What he did not have, however, was that one person who was his and only his. Someone to give the type of love that you reserve for only that one special person in your life.

Mingyu found himself seeking this person out since the beginning of time. Many would call Mingyu a womanizer or a player due to the high volume of relationships he had been involved in during his life. It wasn't like that, however. Not at all. Mingyu would date a girl he liked, would be happy with her, but would ultimately realize that the spark he was looking for was not there, causing him to regrettably end the relationship. He was often met with curses directed his way, but he felt it was best to try and end it amicably if he did not see a future there.

His most recent relationship had been with a former staff member. She was funny and sweet, and also pretty easy on the eyes. They got along very well when she first got assigned to Mingyu as part of his personal team. It started as a friendship, but it didn't take long for Mingyu's hopeless romantic tendencies to seek her out in a romantic way, something to which she obviously agreed to immediately. Mingyu had no issue getting women on his side. He had never dealt with rejection all his life. Being handsome, talented, funny, and even rich from a young age, it was rare to be met with anything but enthusiastic responses left and right. The relationship did not end amicably, however. Mingyu should've known better than to date someone who technically worked for him. I mean, he had been through this before (with one stylist, one MNET staff member, and a former Pledis recruiter to be specific), so he should've known by now that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. But his romantic tendencies couldn't be helped. He had too much love to give, and no one to give it to.

[esyra]

These days, I have long debated what to write regarding Palestine-Israel, and questioned why I should write anything at all. The idea that celebrities and the loudest chronically online people you've ever met, blessed in their ignorance and indifferent to livehoods different than theirs, feel the need to opinate on social and geopolitical issues is absolutely insane. Most of the time, they do more harm than good—spreading misinformation like wildfire. Such opinions are what convinced me to ultimately talk about it.

Rest assured I'm not particularly qualified to talk about any of this, then again no one seems (or tries) to be. This is not a statement, simply questions about selected nuance. Full disclosure: I am of Palestinian descent. And I tried my hardest to be all-encompassing and empathetic; if I fail at any moment, my sincerest apologies.

All around social media I've seen only two kinds of posts regarding Palestine and Israel; they're either completely favorable to Israel and dehumanize Palestine or they treat Palestines as a footnote, in which it's made to assure its author doesn't endorse murder but also to point out that Palestine "deserve what's coming." There's a certain nuance required to support Palestine that's not asked when supporting Israel.

I've seen Jamie Lee Curtis reposting a picture of Palestinian children watching Israelis air strikes as if they were of Israeli children. There's no doubt it was a malicious-intended post considering she credited the photographer while deleting the original caption which explicitly explained who the ones pictured were. After being severely corrected in the comments, she simply deleted and made no mention of it. Guess children don't matter if they're Palestinian. I've seen way too many celebrities responding to the conflict with worries about how they might be affected by it, as self-centered and selfish as you can imagine.

I've seen a journalist claim that 40 Israeli babies were beheaded and multiple newspapers (many of them British, because what else can you expect from them?) and public figures reposting as a fact, only for the same journalist to later claim she actually "never said that" (she absolutely did). Also the IDF explaining they have no information confirming the allegations that 'Hamas beheaded babies'. I've seen people using statements from Sabra and Shatila massacre survivors and trying to rewrite Palestine, which were the victims of said crime, as the perpetrators. I've seen people using videos of Russian attacks as Palestinian ones. I've seen a British journalist fabricating a harmful statement from a Palestinian Ambassador to help dehumanize Palestine, and being proud of such. I've seen BBC using the nuances of language to their liking, reporting how Israelis were 'killed' while Palestinians 'died'. Always heard journalists avoid adjectives in favor of being unbiased. Again, guess that's unimportant when it comes to Palestine. Most of all, I've seen people equate supporting Palestine to anti-semitism.

If that belief steams that Palestine and Hamas are one-and-the-same, and the latter is a anti-semitism organization, then that's another concern I'd like to add the recently appraised 'nuance'.

Hamas first appeared during the first intifada, a Palestinian uprising against Israeli occupation of the West Bank, Gaza, and East Jerusalem. The signing of the Oslo Accords in 1993 marked the end of the uprising—an agreement between Israel and Palestine meant to lay the groundwork for the formation of a Palestinian state alongside Israel. Instead, it has erased Palestine's recognition as a State. In its history, Hamas have equate the liberation of Palestinians with the destruction of Israel, likely the reason they're a highly divisive organization that has often been at oddens with more mainstream Palestinian politicians. However, Hamas backtracked on its aims in a 2017 proclamation, making it clear that what it wants is to end a “racist, anti-human and colonial Zionist project.” In its 16th topic, they state "Hamas affirms that its conflict is with the Zionist project not with the Jews because of their religion. Hamas does not wage a struggle against the Jews because they are Jewish but wages a struggle against the Zionists who occupy Palestine."

The description of the Israeli occupation as fascist most likely comes from the similarities of Palestine to an "open air prison". They have no control of their own borders (IDF controls who and what enters or leaves) and are deemed stateless. "In defiance of international law, Israel considers all Palestinians inhabitants of the occupied Palestinian territory as non-citizens and foreign residents." Meaning if they leave their territory, they won't be allowed back in. Their rights in the Arab World are uncertain, particularly in Lebanon and Egypt where they are denied rights to secure residency, employment, property, communal interaction and family unification. Procedures to allow non-residents to apply for naturalisation in Lebanon, Egypt and Saudi Arabia do not apply to stateless Palestinians. So while those asking for Palestinians to be evacuated for their safety certainly have noble intentions, I ask of you: where they will go? Can you imagine walking away from home knowing you're heading into nothing? What's the difference between living in the rumbles of their homes and being homeless in another country?

The ones who decide to stay (and the ones unable to leave) are likely not making it for much longer. According to the United Nations, roughly 6,400 Palestinians and 300 Israelis have been killed in the ongoing conflict since 2008, not counting the recent fatalities. Is it truly a war if one side is so overpowering in its resources and retaliations? I feel the need to point out these stats to question why the notion that "violence is never the answer" is only used now. When it has been the only response until now.

Then again, Hamas remains a polarizing force in Palestinian society. They're an organization that's slaughtering families and less than a third of Palestinians think the group deserves to represent them. There has not been an opportunity, however, for elections to change their representatives. Palestinians living in Gaza must endure an unstable political reality with an unrepresentative government implementing repressive policies against LGBTQ people and abusive policies against detainees. Israel's Prime Minister Netanyahu purposefully propped up Hamas and there has been speculation that Iran has supported them. I've seen many post as if it's a fact, so I'd like to reinforce that it's speculation. In essence, Hamas is a terrorist group with questionable history and even more questionable allies. None of which has the Palestine's best interests at heart.

This has been overly long, and I still haven't touched on all topics I wished to address. Some I probably couldn't express properly since it's such a complex geopolitical issue. Then again, no one seems to try while all seem very comfortable in being as biased as they wish to be. So I thought I add my compassionate two cents in favor of Palestine and all the years of oppresion they've endured. I still hope you'll read this to the end, and extended to Palestine the same sympathetic hand you've rightfully extended to Israeli citizens.

My heart aches for the innocent people murdered, Palestinian and Israeli. Settlers aren’t innocent, but people who were born there didn't really choose to be one. Jewish people following matters of faith don't deserve to die. No one has (or should have) the right to take someone's life away. People at the Gaza Strip that are either just trying to survive or attempting to protect their homes also don't deserve to die, as flawed as their logic and actions might be, and many are missing that nuance. The denial of food, water, and medical aid, violates the Geneva convention. And it's a kind of retaliation that Palestine in its entirety will never be able to match.

Currently, the Israeli government is preparing a ground invasion of Gaza. An anonymous Israeli official said they would turn Gaza into “a city of tents.” A parliamentarian said that Israel should not concern itself with the safety of any Gazans who “chose” to stay in the Gaza Strip, as if every crossing hasn't been blocked.

Soon, the 'war' will end. And when it does, I can assure you Palestine won't be the last one standing. They've never had a real chance. I'd like to remember everyone that, despite Netanyahu's claims that they are "human animals", Palestinians are human beings. People. All of which deserve to live, deserve compassion and deserve protection. They also deserve to be remembered.

[onakomiyaki]

just a silly crush (not) pt. 1.5

pairing : daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader ; lewis hamilton x reader (implied, platonic relationship)

summary : lewis make sure that you and daniel finally talk after the bahrain incident. or he will take matters in his own way.

warning: unedited and rushed work (I GOT INSPIRED AFTER TWO CANS OF REDBULL RAAAAAAHHHH), harsh words, childhood trauma (kinda), slowburn.

a/n : this is an extra chapter where lewis playing cupid for you and daniel. you can definitely skipped this chapter since this chapter is originally added to the first chapter.

masterlist

consider tonight's meeting (and reconciliation) a huge success, totally worth the money you spent on the party. one of perks of being the daughter of david brabham is that your can splurge on unimportant things; this party, for example, and your father won't even bat an eye.

and maybe the fact that you are one of high paid supermodel–plus an actress so you don't think about money that much.

other than this party, you really need to thank max for his genius plan. maybe a new watch or some new designer clothes for the dutch will do.

"(y/n)!"

you turned your body, eyes lit up at the view of the mighty lewis hamilton.

"what took you so long?" you asked, hugging the brit as he kiss your temple.

for some people lewis's gesture might be mistaken as love-like affection. but of course you know that it is not like that at all. lewis had always see you as his annoying little sister who he love dearly and you saw him as the big brother you never had. while you do have a younger brother, sam, things with you and lewis are just... different.

"if i say traffic, would you believe me?" he sheepishly said.

and to that you let out a dry–mocking–laugh. "really? traffic? here in monaco?" you said.

"alright alright. i might–i said might–met binotto." he stated, letting out a sigh.

"mattia binotto? that's-"

"ferrari's current principal, yes." he nod, hands snug inside his pockets.

"they want you huh? interesting." you said, fingers cradling your own jaw.

although you hate formula one, you being the daughter of david brabham of course would know a thing or two. including all the current principals of all 10 teams.

lewis let out a chuckle, shrugging his shoulder. "maybe."

you rolled your eyes at his attic, shaking your head at his secretiveness. he won't be able to keep any secret from you, you're too smart for that. and lewis is aware.

what is not so smart of you is your inability to figure out about daniel's hints and feeling for the past 10 plus years. maybe more, lewis believe.

he always notice how daniel's eyes always lights up when he saw your instagram posts, or your appearance at the latest fashion magazine. he even rambling non-stop at your first big screen debut in 2017, not only to his teammate max, but to almost all the driver on the grid. almost, because most of the drivers are just confused and was there to humor the aussie. sebastian vettel though–god bless that man–always there for him, sharing the same excitement even cheering him up.

he also remember how dejected he looks when your father visited one of the race in 2015, hoping that you would show up beside your father despite your hatred towards the sport. but instead, he saw sam, your younger brother, calmly walking beside your father.

so it is safe to say he knew it all too well. and he honestly feel sort of sympathy for both you and daniel.

"have you talk to him yet?" he asked, averting the conversation about his meeting with binotto.

"that, i have." you simply said, grabbing two glass of champagne passed by the waitress.

lewis gracefully accept the other glass and clinked his glass with yours. "and how it goes?"

you went silent, gnawing your bottom lip nervously. "it went... well." you said, voice unsure.

"oh?"

"he asked me to watch the race. in monza." you stated.

lewis nods, letting out an acknowledgement hum as he sip his champagne.

"you should come, (y/n). its been 10 years since his first race, and yet, you haven't attend any of them in person." he simply stated.

"well i did watch the race from my house in monaco." you muttered. lewis shaking his head to your reaction.

"its not fair for him, you know? you guys are best friend for almost 20 years now, you said it yourself."

yeah, bestfriend. he thought.

you went silence, eyes trailed down to the floor. the expensive marble beneath your louboutin heels seems more interesting than lewis now, and he notice.

"i just don't want you to live in regrets in the future, (y/n)" he said, patting your shoulder as he walk away from you–giving you some space to think about what he just said.

"i know lewis." you whisper to yourself.

daniel, who currently enjoying his alone time at the bar, was greeted with a familiar figure walking towards him. he fix his posture, sitting straighter as the figure sat beside him and he watch in silent. daniel is still wary of this man so he just wait for him to break the silence first.

"let me join you for awhile, mate." he said.

"lewis."

"honeybadger."

hearing his nickname make daniel chuckle. thanks to you who actually give him that nickname years ago, back when you and him still go karting together, it stuck with him. and honestly he don't mind. because it was given by you.

"no company?" lewis simply asked.

"well, i was dragged by the ferrari duo, little lando, and the lovebird but they are gone now." daniel explain, politely asking the bartender for another refill.

"the lovebird?"

"max and kelly."

"ah, yes... the new hot couple." lewis nods, flashing his charming smile at the younger driver.

"yeah, i don't want to be a thirdwheel or dancing with dj norris and his two minions so here i am." he said, returning the smile to his senior as he pointed at the dj podium where lando is already getting on. carlos and charles was dancing like a maniac with drinks on their hands.

lewis raised his eyebrows, genuinely shocked and impressed at the young brit secret talent as a dj. "never knew little lando is a party animal." he said.

"i might be the one who responsible for that–to be a party animal i mean." daniel chuckled, shaking his head.

"well, he learn from the best then." and with that both daniel and lewis share a laugh, clinking their glass together.

as daniel enjoy his 3rd? 4th? glass of whiskey that night, lewis give him a small pats on his back. and daniel, confused at the gesture, watch lewis with a small frown.

"you have the patience of a saint, daniel. i won't last that long if i were you," he said, finishing his drink. "i gave up after got rejected for a second date."

lewis's cryptic messages, plus the familiar tipsy feeling, make him confused even more.

"huh?"

"goodluck, mate. i am rooting for you." he said, flashing him a smile before walking away from him.

"what just happen..." daniel muttered as he finish his glass of whiskey and decided to join dj norris and the minions.

what a night...

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