#Top Legal Podcasts

[hamable]

BRO MARKIPLIER’S EDGE OF SLEEP SHOW COMES OUT OCTOBER 18 WTF

[pumpkin-in-a-pear-tree]

Ah. So this is why they're all marked as spouses on the wiki

[000-pawz]

drunk in love (bnd legal line) ˚ · .

bnd when they're drunk/when you're drunk , bnd x fem!reader , legal line reactions/headcanons , fluff , some suggestive sprinkles here and there , established relationship

more under the cut!

a/n: thank you for the request anonie! <3 this was so fun to write

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ if you call sungho while you're drunk at a friend's house, he'll be there in record time! he's not letting you go home alone or with someone else. he's going to make sure that you get home safe himself

𐙚₊˚ sungho is the best drunk sitter ever </3 he's making sure you are consistently drinking water throughout the night, getting food into your stomach the whole time (and rewarding you with kisses along the way!), and making sure you don't fall off of a roof or something

𐙚₊˚ at parties, he watches your cup the entire time, placing his hand over the top when you lean in to hug a friend, holding it for you while you go to the bathroom and everything!!! like he does not play about your safety at all

𐙚₊˚ if you start to get a little too out of hand, he knows it's time to take you home </3 and if you complain and pout about it, he'll just sigh and try to give you an incentive to cooperate like getting to steal all of his hoodies for a month (and of course, you give in!)

𐙚₊˚ throws you over his shoulder and carries you away when it's time to go and you're too drunk to walk >< pats your butt when you tell him to put you down lol

𐙚₊˚ helps you change into one of his big t-shirts and spoons you to sleep, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, whispering 'i love yous' into your ear until you fall asleep <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ i see sungho as someone with a pretty high tolerance, so it may take him a few drinks to start visibly showing that he's drunk

𐙚₊˚ the first sign would be how he laughs at everything. full on belly laughs, slapping his knee, falling over and it'll simply be because someone pronounced a word wrong or something >< like that is ijbol king

𐙚₊˚ sungho is an extrovert, yes, but he becomes the extrovert's final boss when he's drunk. he pretty much carries the conversation, but he probably is a little volume deaf too, like he gets really loud and hyper (at least he's cute though)

𐙚₊˚ he doesn't really get emotional, but his emotions are more raw for sure!! he might end up in an argument with someone at some point in the night if he's left alone for too long, so please keep an eye on him!!!

𐙚₊˚ he'll probably want to kiss you a lot. like even more than usual, and that's saying something. you'll be talking with a friend and he'll come up from behind you and slip an arm around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and then he disappears again >< or if you two are just drinking alone, he'll peck your lips literally while you are in the middle of a sentence :C his impulse control is nonexistent when he's drunk like partner pretty so he kiss! it's that simple!

𐙚₊˚ getting home with sungho would be a personal podcast in your ear... he's going to be talking the entire time with exaggerated gestures, recapping his entire lift story because his filter completely disappears when he's drunk!!! and getting him to sleep is even harder </3 he'll be silent for a few minutes before asking you yet another question, so you have to kiss his lips and shush him to sedate him <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ loves when you're all over him <3 sitting in his lap as you laugh with friends, kissing him all over his face, running your fingers through his hair... it makes him so happy

𐙚₊˚ will gladly take pictures of you if you ask! pretends to be your paparazzi like "miss y/n!!! over here!!!" before snapping a picture all dramatically while you pose like you're on the front cover of vogue <3 just silly and fun

𐙚₊˚ if you're under the influence, he'll want to make sure you have the most carefree, stress-free, most enjoyable experience possible! he'll compliment you the whole night so you never forget how pretty you are, makes sure you don't go past your limit, and piggybacks you while holding your heels <3

𐙚₊˚ smiles at you so fondly when you drunkenly ramble to him <3 he gives you the most cartoonish reactions to everything you're saying, and when you realize he's not actually listening and just admiring how cute you are, he just laughs softly and kisses you, urging you to continue

𐙚₊˚ feeds you throughout the night so you don't feel too sick in the morning!! as soon as you take a break from talking, he's putting a cracker in your mouth and telling you to chew lol

𐙚₊˚ very gentle when he lets you know it's time to go home, waiting patiently for you to finish saying goodbye to all your friends (even if it's the entire room of people) <3 after you surprise him with another kiss attack as soon as you step foot inside the home, he manages to get you into bed, removing your makeup for you once you're asleep, treating you like you're a piece of glass </3 he loves you sm

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ riwoo brings sweetheart energy to the function like <3 he's not that talkative when he's tipsy, choosing to just observe the scene with a smile on his face. you'll probably have to pull him up out of his seat to get him to mingle lol

𐙚₊˚ as soon as he hits the dance floor though, it's sooooo over!!! his hands will be on your hips as you guys dance, laughing into your ear, hyping you up as you break it down like!!! he'll be really touchy too, holding you from behind as he whispers into your ear, grinding into you from behind just to tease ><

𐙚₊˚ he'll probably eat a lot before drinking so he doesn't get too drunk, but it honestly never works </3 thankfully, he's able to stay pretty level-headed when he's drunk, so you never have to worry too much

𐙚₊˚ when he's drunk drunk, riwoo probably slurs his words a lot, and gets really giggly, and really corny. he'll crack the worst joke you've ever heard and then laugh at it because he thought it was the funniest thing ever (and please indulge him </3 he's too cute to not fake laugh at his jokes)

𐙚₊˚ i see him as the type to turn into jell-o when he gets really drunk. like he'll be leaning on you the entire time because if you let go, he's going straight to the floor. getting him to bed would be an entire workout because he just goes limp randomly and trips on air every three seconds pls

𐙚₊˚ riwoo definitely likes to be babied when he's drunk ^___^ he'll be giggling the entire time as you help him get his shoes off and change into more comfortable clothes like "riwoo, lift your arms up!" and he's doing it with the widest smile on his face (and if you tell him about it when he's sober, he'll be soooo embarrassed </3)

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun is probably half-concerned/half-entertained the entire time </3 he's laughing whenever you stumble over your own feet, but his hands are quick to steady you to make sure you don't hurt yourself!!!

𐙚₊˚ records you with a big smile on his face when you're dancing on tables, cheering you on the entire time. but if your skirt starts riding up, he's quick to grab you down with his hands around your waist before helping you pull your skirt down <3

𐙚₊˚ taps his cheek whenever he wants a kiss because he knows that you love to kiss him when you're drunk </3 it becomes a game between the two of you during the night, where he taps his cheek randomly and you stop whatever you're doing to kiss him lol

𐙚₊˚ indulges you in all of your drunken activities! if you want to race him down the road barefoot, he's right there with you, his shoes tossed off to the side at the ready mark. or if you want to see who can do the most cartwheels, he wraps his jacket around your waist before the competition starts and then shows off that he can do more than you!

𐙚₊˚ if you're reaching your limit, he gently takes your cup from your hands with a little "alright, that's enough for you" and if you whine, he kisses your nose and goes "how about some water instead, hm?" and you reluctantly agree because he's just so sweet

𐙚₊˚ he's so subtle with the way he cares for you, you barely even notice what's going on. you're too busy having the time of your life to realize that jaehyun has already gotten you home, washed up and changed as you talk his ear off in your drunken haze >< he responds to everything while multi-tasking, making sure you get tucked in on your side just in case before you drift off <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun clingy drunk agenda! he'll always want to have his hands on you in some way, whether it be hugging you from behind, holding your hand, or resting his head on your shoulder!

𐙚₊˚ probably needs to be bodyguarded when he first starts drinking. please do not dare him to do anything because he will do it. and he will prove that he can do it better than anyone has ever seen.

𐙚₊˚ although his energy is usually always at 100%, i think he mellows out a bit when he's really drunk. at first, when he's simply tipsy, he's the life of the party! cracking jokes with everyone, sparking up a conversation with anyone in his vicinity, even he's dancing on tables lol but once he gets really drunk, he gets a little quieter and sticks to your side!! (that's when you know it's time to take him home)

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun can get pretty emotional when he's drunk too. he could probably cry just from thinking about how much he loves you!! you won't even notice that he started to cry until he's sniffling, dabbing at his eyes :< and if you ask him what's wrong, he'll just be like "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." and you're just like ???<3???<3??? because it'll come out of nowhere lol

𐙚₊˚ if you aren't with him at a party or something, he'll probably text you the entire time. just like paragraphs of how much he misses you, and how he loves you so so so so much, and he'll even send you cute drunk selfies so you know he is safe and having a good time!

𐙚₊˚ jaehyun can get very very needy when he's drunk! you could be chilling at home when he comes back from a friend's house and he'll be all over you, nuzzling his nose into your neck, kissing your shoulder, subtly trying to rub against your leg because he forgets to use his words :<

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ #1 instigator. he thinks that you are so funny when you're drunk >< how you'll do and say literally anything without a second thought and he encourages it even. it's cute to him

𐙚₊˚ like if you get into a rap battle with a random busker on the street, he's throwing imaginary money and tossing in random adlibs like he's a soundcloud rapper girlfriend lol

𐙚₊˚ always has an arm over your shoulder, holding you close to his side because you look so good and he doesn't want anyone to think you are single and try to hit on you! keeps you close to him at all times

𐙚₊˚ nothing really fazes him and he's good at keeping calm. like if you start to throw up, he'll simply hold your hair out of your face and rub your back softly before cleaning you up with a tiny smile. or if you suddenly burst out into tears, he's cooing at you, wiping your cheeks with his thumb, placing kissing on your nose <3

𐙚₊˚ but if you're blackout drunk, way past your limit, he gets really serious >< he'll sit you on the kitchen counter and make sure you drink a bunch of water, his eyes on you like a hawk. he'll rub your knee comfortingly to keep you present, praising you every few seconds for doing so well for him

𐙚₊˚ he'll tease you so much once you're sober, recounting all of the crazy things you did while you were drunk >< and when you start to get embarrassed, he wraps you up in his arms and reassures you that you are still cute to him no matter what <3

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ yapper. like. he's going to be talking soooo much!!! just about anything and everything, stumbling and slurring over his words as he recounts how he saw a squirrel earlier that day or something. shares wayyyy too many tmis too

𐙚₊˚ he definitely loosens up more when he's drunk. his composure and attention span goes straight out the window. he's usually pretty composed when he's sober for the most part, but as soon as he gets a few drinks in his system, something in him flips like a switch

𐙚₊˚ please do not let him pick up the karaoke mic oh my... he's going to attempt to have a rap battle with you or try to belt out the highest notes possible. he'll put on an entire show for your whole friend group!!! he might even join in on drinking games and stuff

𐙚₊˚ wanders off easily, so please can an eye on him!! he'll get distracted by every single thing, his feet carrying him away without a second thought >< you might even lose him for an hour, and then find him sitting in the kitchen eating a bag of chips with someone's hat on and a mustache drawn on his face

𐙚₊˚ taesan can get pretty pouty when he's drunk too. especiallyyyy if you're not giving him as much attention as he wants! you could be laughing with some friends and taesan will be sitting next to you with his arms crossed and the biggest kitty pout on his face ever because? why aren't you laughing with him!!!! (pls give him lots of kisses to make up for it!!!)

𐙚₊˚ he definitely has a habit of denying that he's drunk. he'll try to dismiss your help to get him home, or refuse to drink water, and claim that he can do everything by himself. he'll literally be tripping over his own feet as you try to help him into his bed and he'll be like "nooo i'm not drunk! i swear!" and then as soon as he hits the pillow, he's out like a light

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

when you are drunk

𐙚₊˚ follows you around like a guard dog the entire night! he knows that you like to run off and do reckless stuff when you get drunk, so he's keeping his eye on you

𐙚₊˚ makes all of your drinks himself and never lets you drink out of the punch bowl <3 you like to joke that he's your personal bartender and he takes the title with pride

𐙚₊˚ if you get really drunk and start getting emotional, he's quick to comfort you, even if you won't remember anything he said in the morning. he's cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips and telling you how much he loves you!!! he thinks it's so adorable when you start crying because of how much you love him, and he reminds you that he isn't going anywhere, ever <3

𐙚₊˚ super gentle with you when helping you wind down for the night!!! he'll remove your make up and help you brush your teeth with a quiet "say ahhh", smiling softly because you are just so cute and he's so in love

𐙚₊˚ lets you space out and stare at his fish tank while he makes you food to eat before you go to sleep so you can get something in your stomach! goes to the other side of the tank and makes a funny face through the glass just to see you giggle

𐙚₊˚ already has hangover medicine ready on your side table with water and snacks if you wake up and need something!!! please thank him a bunch in the morning for how well he took care of you <33

when he is drunk

𐙚₊˚ second highest tolerance i think! he definitely gets drunk quicker than sungho, but it still takes him a bit!!! mostly because no one can tell if he's actually drunk or not with the way he's able to keep his composure

𐙚₊˚ i don't see him as the type to chug a bunch of drinks immediately, probably only nursing one drink for a long time. he knows his limits, and tries to stick to them because he hates being hungover the next day!!! he has to feel good so he can take care of you instead <3

𐙚₊˚ he gets sooo flirty, it's unreal. he'll literally try to talk you up even though you guys are already together!! he'll comment on how good you look, his hand rubbing your thigh, leaning in to whisper into your ear and kiss your neck ><

𐙚₊˚ he gets really soft toward the end of the night, his head resting on your shoulder as he spaces out </3 he'll probably play with your fingers while you converse with your friends, laughing quietly every now and then, but his mind is on an entirely different planet. it's okay though because he knows you'll look after him!!!

𐙚₊˚ gets pretty defiant when he's had one too many drinks lol >< like if you tell him it's time to go home, he'll plant his feet into the ground so you physically cannot drag him away with a teasing look on his face. he might even just take a seat on the floor and look up at you with big puppy dogs eyes because he doesn't want to go yet!

𐙚₊˚ he sobers up pretty quickly and is usually fine by the time you guys get home!!! he'd probably want to shower together before cuddling up to you like a big teddy bear, usually asleep within a minutes, surrounded by your warmth <3

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding

In which you and Max tie the knot.

Warnings: just fluff. a bit of anxiety talk but nothing Max can't fix. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - Master List

After getting engaged, there were two things that you and Max almost immediately agreed upon: first, because so much of both of your lives were already available for public consumption, you wanted to protect the peace and privacy of your wedding as much as possible. And second, you didn’t want to wait until the next summer break to get married. 

Growing up, it was a cliche fact but a fact all the same, that you often thought of what you wanted your wedding to be like. You were even very much guilty of having secret wedding Pinterest boards set up all through high school and college. But the moment the even presented itself in real life, you suddenly felt choked by the weight of what a big wedding could entail. 

It had been Max that had suggested the solution in the end, his idea passed by you casually one night as you walked hand in hand back to your hotel after dinner before the race in Italy. He had sensed your hesitation around hosting such a big, over the top wedding that everyone seemed to assume you wanted. The spark in your eye faded just a bit when Alex and Carmen had started talking about wedding venues and guest lists and he hadn’t missed the way your shoulders hitched up a bit more towards your ears as you listened to your friends ramble. 

“What if we just eloped?” He works to keep his tone causal, not wanting to give away how appealing that idea sounds to him. He wants you to choose the kind and scale of wedding you want all on your own because he knows you’d do anything for him, right down to agreeing to plan a wedding that doesn’t suit you at all. 

You stop dead in your tracks, Birkin bag swinging wildly at your elbow from the sudden halt. “What?” 

Max sticks his hands deep in the pockets of his khakis, giving you a knowing smile. “You heard me. What if we just said ‘fuck this’ and ran off to the beach and got married by some old fishing captain. Captains can legally marry people, right? That’s a thing?” 

Not for the first time in your relationship, you’re stunned into silence at something your soon-to-be husband says. For a moment all you can do is blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s fucking with you or not. “You’d…you’d want that?” 

Max steps forward, earnest look on his handsome face. “Baby,” He murmurs, framing both sides of your face with his strong hands. “Baby, I’d marry you in an alley way in the middle of New York City. I don’t care where or how, all I care about is that we come out at the end of this married and tied together for life. I don’t care about the wedding, I care about the marriage.” 

Max watches as your pupils blow wide, shy smile tugging at your lips. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

Max’s forehead rests on yours and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Well, it’s true. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams because I know that will make you happy but other than that, I don’t care.” 

He’d do anything to make sure you were happy, knowing it was just this side of obsessive the way he took you into consideration with every decision he made. Standing opposite of the man who consumed your entire soul, your stomach dipped low, the pleasant swooping sensation something you’ve become accustomed to over the last year. “I just feel so overwhelmed. Both of our lives are already so public and under scrutiny. I want this to be something that we can cherish without any of the potential tarnish of what it means to be so public.” 

You shake your head, feeling a little silly and what you’re feeling. “I love our lives and know we’re privileged to live like this but sometimes I just want to have something that’s just ours. I want to share our love and relationship with everyone but maybe we could just shield some of it from the world?” 

An idea forms in Max’s head then. “What if we eloped somewhere just the two of us and then have a party to celebrate with everyone after?” 

You nod, “Have is quietly ours for a while before sharing the news with everyone?” 

Max reaches for you, enjoying the way you press against him with ease. It’s a warm Italian summer night, the scent of perfumed flowers and left over sunshine hung heavy in the air and you wanted to snap this moment into something that stayed with you forever. Max’s hands heavy on your hips, digging into the flesh there as if he can’t get enough of you despite not leaving your side for the last 24 hours. 

Ever since getting engaged, you’d hated spending any length of time away from Max, almost like your soul had already started to twin itself to him. It made leaving difficult but returning was always so sweet. You had this weekend in Italy before you had to leave on another trip but you’d been considering ramping down your travel over the next few months. But, that was another conversation for another day. 

“Where would we go? And when?” The more you thought bout it, the more the thought of what Max was suggesting appealed to you. 

Max releases you before taking your hand as you two start back towards your hotel, feeling a bit lighter at seemingly solving the problem that had been weighing on you for a few days. 

“We could do it this winter? There’s always a total shut down of everything that week between Christmas and New Years. We’d see our families for Christmas and escape saying we were just taking a trip the two of us.” 

You grin up at him, liking where he was going with this. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

129,938 likes liked by yourdad, assistantshannon, maxverstappen1, and others yourpersonalisnta sun, sand, and a very cute finace kikagomes is this that place in Mexico you were talking about?! It looks so pretty! >>>yourpersonalinsta yes!!! it is gorgeous. you and P need to come here some day. alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl >>>yourpersonalinsta love you bby user029 dream life fr user0092 looks like paradise! tell max congrats on his 5th title for us!!

December, 2025 

The warm ocean breeze fluttered through the wide open doors of the villa behind you as the bright December sun heated your skin where you laid on a lounge chair. Next to you, Max was sprawled out on on the chair next to you, snoring softly as he took what you thought might just be his third nap of the day. 

Ever since the pair of you had arrived in Mexico a few days ago, you hand’t done much beyond sleep, eat, and fuck. The 2025 season had been the most stressful, chaotic, out of control season Max had ever had and while he had managed to clinch the championship on in Abu Dhabi from Lando, but it had been a difficult ride to get there. So when Christmas had been celebrated and you had jumped on the jet to fly from Monaco over to Mexico, you couldn’t help but continually breathe a sigh of relief. 

The fight had truly weighed on Max, the hollows underneath his eyes growing more and more prominent as the race weeks ticked by. The only relief he had gotten had been your midseason trip to Thailand when he had proposed. When Jensen had asked him what had gotten him through the difficult second half of the season during an interview after he won the championship, his immediate answer had simply been you. 

Much to the disappointment of your fans, you had decided to really ramp down the amount of travel and work you had done following the summer break. Max had been resident at first, not even wanting to entertain he conversation at first when you had brought it up shortly after it had been decided you were going to elope. He didn’t want to even think of you putting your career on hold for him, to take care of him, to follow him. Not because he didn’t want you around. It was the exact opposite. Just the thought of you spending more time traveling with him instead of the insane schedule you’d been keeping over the last year had relief flooding through him. While he was tired from his schedule and the pressure of winning a 5th consecutive world title, he knew you were tired too. There were many times you both went weeks without setting foot in your shared apartment and sometimes you’d go weeks between seeing each other too. 

No, it wasn’t because he didn’t want you around. It was because he didn’t want you to resent him one day down the line that you had given up your career for him. He couldn’t bare the thought of being the cause of any resentment or heartache for you and despite how much he wanted you by his side every possible moment. 

In the end, reason had won out as you had explained that you weren’t taking a break because of him. He was certainly part of it, but like him, you were exhausted. You reminded Max of Brazil last year, how you had slept for so long the day after the race there that Max had postponed your flights home for another week he was so worried about you getting sick. 

You had done a few interviews since the engagement, mostly with people in the motorsport world: Susie and Toto Wolff, Natalie Pinkham, and of course Lewis being your biggest interviews. In addition, you had done some post race interviews and coverage for F1TV, which allowed you to have even more of a reason to be in the paddock week in and week out. You weren’t sure where your podcast was going in the future, but for now, you were content with the schedule and where you were professionally, despite what some of your critics might be whispering. 

All of this works through your mind as Max begins to stir beside you. His eyes blink open eventually and when they do, they immediately find you. “Hi baby.” He whispers, voice rough with sleep. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” You grin, setting your book down beside you as Max rolls over onto his side, creating some space for you on the oversized lounge chair, beckoning you to join him. 

As you snuggle deeper into his chest, Max slots his thigh between your legs and slips his top arm over your waist, pulling you closer. “You looked deep in thought. Everything okay?” He murmurs before his lips ghost over your cheek. 

“Hmmm, of course. Just thinking about this year and how good it feels to just breathe.” 

Max could tell when you got in one of your thinking moods just by the way your body language shifted. In those few moments between when he had woken up and you had noticed his eyes open, he had watched you staring out over the villa’s lawn. Your shoulders were relaxed, the usual pinch between your brows completely absent and with legs crossed at your ankles as you read your book, you had looked the picture of relaxed. 

“You still feeling okay about tomorrow?” 

Just the thought of what tomorrow would bring made your heart rate pitch up a bit. The first morning after your arrival, you and Max had gone over to the concierge in the main reception building to tell them of your plans for an elopement. They had, of course, been ecstatic and ready to help you in whatever way you wanted. After a few hours of discussion, you had everything planned and the concierge snapped into action. 

“I am…unless you’re not?” It occurs to you that Max has been awfully quiet this morning, a soft reflective mood taking over his usual energetic attitude and suddenly, anxiety pinches in your chest. You desperately search Max’s face for any sign of hesitation or regret, not knowing what you’d do if he suddenly got cold feet before tomorrow. 

Max shakes his head before pulling you even closer, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hip, covered only by the little string of your bikini that you’ve been living in since you got here. “Lifeje, stop that. You know I would have married you the moment after I proposed to you months ago.” 

Something settles in you at his words, having just needed that little bit of reassurance from him. As hard as you tired and as much as Max made sure to never leave any doubt in your mind that he was all in with you, you sometimes still found your anxiety getting the best of you. Scenarios about how Max was having second thoughts, how he didn’t really want to marry you, how this was all in your head sometimes ran rampant in your head. You were getting better at controlling them, especially after he had proposed but that was the funny thing about anxiety, you couldn’t always control it. 

“I know.” You whisper, fingers trailing up and down his toned arm that was wrapped around you tightly. 

“Anxiety?” It was almost spooky how well Max could read you from just a shift in your tone of voice. All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling silly. Max rolled his hips into yours, pulling your lower half closer. “Do you feel what you do to me?” He asked, pressing his already half hard cock into your center. “Do you feel what you do to me just laying here? All you have to do is look at me and I’m a goner. There isn’t a single second thought in my mind, love.” 

“I’m sorry I’m hard to love sometimes.” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as Max lifts your chin so he can have a better look at you. “I’m sorry you have to constantly reassure me despite not giving me any reason to doubt you. I know  it can’t be easy.” 

You had spent most of your adult life being told how difficult you were to love. How hard it was to deal with the constant reassurance you needed when the anxiety crept in, telling you you weren’t good enough. It was unnerving sometimes when Max loved you so easily and effortlessly because how did he find it so easy to do when no one else before him had? 

Max pulls back so he can get a good look in those pretty eyes of yours. It made him rage internally knowing how insecure you were. Not because he faulted you. Oh, absolutely not. He raged at the people that made you feel like you were inferior and hard to love because that was something that he simply didn’t see. Loving you and being with you was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life. 

“I want you to listen to me, okay?” He waits, brows raised, until you nod. “I will gladly spend the rest of my life telling you how much I worship you whenever and however you need or want me to. When I take those vows tomorrow, I mean it with every bit of my soul, schatje. For worse or better, you’re mine and I’m yours from tomorrow on, okay? You are not hard to love and I am so lucky I get the privilege of telling you every single day how much I love you.” 

Your mind settles a bit at his words as you let the sensation of having Max so close to you wash over your anxious nerves. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” 

“Oh, sweet girl it’s not you that’s lucky.” Max leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips as you sigh into him. “I’m the lucky one that somehow coincided you to love me back.” 

There were only two people in your lives besides you and Max that knew what you two were really doing in Mexico. GP because Max was physically incapable of keeping anything from his race engineer and your assistant Shannon. GP had called Max out on his sudden change in demeanor in Italy after the decision to elope had been made, asking Max what had happened in the previous 12 hours to make him not so grumpy when he showed up to the track that morning. Max being a terrible liar when it came to GP had been unable to think quick enough to come up with an excuse and when he had simply looked at GP with a deer in the headlights look, he had fessed up and spilled the beans. When you had found out that Max had told GP you had sworn the race engineer to total secrecy, telling him you’d cut off a very important body part of his if it got leaked. 

Shannon was the other person that knew and it was only because you had needed help with choosing and figuring out how to sneakily order, tailor, and pack a wedding gown without anyone getting wind of it. You knew if the paparazzi had caught sight of you leaving a bridal boutique with a dress in hand nearly a year before you had told everyone else that you were planning on getting married, people would talk. So, with Max’s approval, you had enlisted the help of your personal assistant who had honestly turned into one of your closest friends over the time that she had worked with you.

 It had been Shannon that helped you choose the dress that you wore the morning you married Max, the white lace clinging to every curve and valley of your body. It was just going to be the two of you, the officiant, and the photographer there and the utter quiet and simplicity of getting ready in complete silence and peace was something you would cherish for the rest of your life. Max had left the villa about an hour ago, telling you he had a few errands to run before the officiant would turn up for the ceremony. What kind of errands could he be doing in the middle of a luxury resort in the middle of the Mexican jungle, you had no idea but you hadn’t asked any questions because you wanted the time alone to get ready. 

You’re just slipping on the second thin strap up over your shoulder when there’s a knock at the villa door moments before it swings open. Max comes bustling in, wearing the khaki pants and white linen shirt you had chosen for the beach nuptials. He’s got a fresh haircut and shaved face, his bright blue eyes looking for you the moment he walks in the door. In his hand dangles a little black bag with silver ties that doesn’t look big enough to hold much more than a small box or two. 

“Lifeje, where are -” Max stops in his tracks when you round the corner out of the bedroom and he sees you for the first time. His hand goes straight to his sternum, rubbing at the place that is suddenly aching at the mere sight of you. He had thought he’d been prepared to see you in your wedding dress but what he saw in front of him made every coherent thought tumble right out of his head. If he had thought you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen before, seeing you standing there before him in the white lace dress with it’s plunging neckline and fabric clinging to your every curve, just confirmed that he was the luckiest person in the entire world. “Christ.” He whispers, unable to move from the spot he’s rooted to. 

You let out a little uncertain giggle, tucking a piece of hair that you had left out of the sleek low bun you had styled your hair in for the day behind your ear. “Do I look okay?” 

Max finds the ability to move then, crossing the room in just a few strides, suddenly needing nothing more than to touch you. He had to know what that lace felt like under his fingers, had to know if your skin looked as radiant up close as it did when he had first walked into the villa. 

“I am so glad I wrote my vows down because there is no way I’m remembering anything while I look at you.” He croaks, voice becoming totally unreliable with emotion just seeing you dressed like this solely for him brings up. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life, schatje. ” 

And it was the truth. Max had never seen anyone as gorgeous as you were standing there in that white dress, veil tucked into the top of your bun so it cascaded down over your shoulders. The dress pools at your feet and dips low in the back, showing off the tanned and toned body you work so hard for. At your ears wink the diamonds Max had gotten you for Christmas just a week earlier. A diamond and sapphire necklace set in platinum sits at your throat, also a gift from Max for your one year anniversary earlier in the year. Seeing you wearing the jewels that he’s bought for you does something to Max, a possessive streak proudly zipping through him at the thought of you dripping in expensive baubles that he’s bought you. 

“What’s in the bag?” You ask as Max settles his hands low on your hips, still checking you out with absolutely no shame whatsoever. 

He seems to remember that there’s something else in the room other than you then, holding the bag out to you with a sly grin on his face. “I know we said our wedding bands were going to be our presents to each other but I saw this the other day when we were out shopping in that little jewelry store and had to go back to get it.” 

You raise a brow but know better than to argue about Max spoiling you. It’s a lost cause at this point and you settled for just accepting the pretty things he liked to give you simply because he loved seeing you in them a long time ago. You take the bag from his hands and reaching in, you pull out a long, slender velvet box. 

When you open the box, you barely stifle a gasp at the delicate bracelet sitting on the black satin. It’s the diamond and pearl tennis bracelet set in platinum that you had casually looked at yesterday when you and Max had gone into town to do some shopping and had mentioned in an off handed comment that you had liked how the pearls and diamonds worked so well together, although you had ultimately decided not to get it because of the price tag and the fact that you thought you’d never have anywhere to wear it. 

“Max.” You whisper, gaze darting up from the box to Max’s own eager look. “It’s…it’s so pretty I don’t have the words. You spoil me.” 

“And I’m going to continue to spoil you for the rest of our lives, lifeje. Now, can I put it on you so you can be dripping in diamonds for our wedding day, please?” 

You laugh a little, somehow unsure of how you got this lucky to be here in Mexico marrying the man that literally worships the ground you walk on. 

“Now, I understand that you both have written your vows for each other. Max, would you like to go first?” 

Later that afternoon, the two of you stand barefoot on the beach, a gentle breeze teasing the veil at the back of your head, while the officiant the hotel recommended stands before you. The atmosphere could not be more perfect. The sun hangs low in the sky, sunset just an hour or two away so the golden rays cascade over you and Max. Behind you, the photographer you hired snaps discreetly away. The fact that it’s just the four of you on the beach witnessing this could not have been more perfect. 

Max stands opposite you, large hands swallowing your smaller ones, and takes a deep breath. You can see the emotion playing plainly on his face and know he’s going to have a hard time getting through these words. For the outside world, Max Verstappen is a hardened competitor that takes no shit and will do anything to win. But here? On the beach with just you and 2 others as he professes his love and adoration to you, he’s as soft as kitten and almost more emotional than you are. 

He couldn’t have been happier at his decision to write down the words to his vows because the emotions that swirled in him then, as he stands there looking at you in your wedding dress is so overwhelming he can barely put together a coherent thought. Here he was, the man that has won five world championships and zips around a race track at 200 miles per hour regularly, completely unable to speak he’s so happy. 

The paper is a bit crumpled when he pulls it out of the pocket of his khakis but it’s fine all the same. He clears his throat nervously and then begins. “When Melissa suggested I go on your podcast, she said it would be an amazing PR opportunity for me. I think I told her no five times but on that sixth time, I agreed because GP said he thought I’d like you and then he sent me that interview. And then I walked into that studio on that cold, rainy April and have never thanked GP and Melissa so fast. That first time I saw you, I felt my entire world shift beneath my feet. Having the childhood I did ruined the idea of love for me for most of my life but the moment you waltzed into my life, schatje, I knew that you were going to show me how wrong I’d been. I love you endlessly and will forever be thankful that you’ve shown me what the meaning of real, true, unconditional love is.” Max takes a breath, swiping at an errant tear that falls down his cheek. 

Across from him, you grip at his hands, desperately trying to commit this entire moment to memory. You’re endlessly glad you both had written your vows so you’d be able to look back and remember what was said today on this beach. 

“I promise to love, honor, cherish, and spoil you,” He pauses when you chuckle and roll your eyes, but just squeezes your hand before continuing on. “Whatever you need, you’ll have. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you never want for anything ever again, both material wants but also emotional wants. You are my number one priority from here on out and I vow to never ever stop living up to these promises. I never believed in soulmates until I saw you for the first time and words can’t accurately describe how much I love you. Having the title of your husband is worth a million and one world champion titles and I promise to spend the rest of my days proving that to you.” 

The emotions ripple over you as Max concludes his vows. The officiant turns to you, dipping his head to let you know it’s now your turn. Max squeezes your hands together and you drown in the watercolor blue eyes looking back at you for a moment. 

“I stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago. That is until you walked into that recording studio and looked at me like you’d known me for our entire lives. I tried so hard not to get ahead of myself for so long, but it was that first time you flew me down to Miami two weeks after meeting you that I knew. I knew that you were it for me, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve been through so much in such a short time and I know there are so many people that are going to think we’re criminally insane for doing this. But it’s nearly impossible to put into words what you’ve done to my soul in such a short time, Max. I know it’s beyond cliche but you’ve altered who I am at my very core. I’ve never been with someone so unwaveringly supportive of everything that I am and everything that I do.” You draw in a shaky breath then, needing a moment before you can make the rest of your words materialize. 

“I promise to love you so unconditionally and strongly for the rest of my life. I promise to be by your side during the highs and lows of your career, on and off the track. The life we live is so fast and so difficult sometimes but just knowing that you’re on the other side of that plane ride, waiting for me to come home to you, makes everything we do worth it. I promise to give you whatever you need no matter how difficult it may be. You are my life now and I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you. Soulmates are real and you’re mine. I’m so thankful that I found you, Max. I love you.” 

A quiet settles between you and Max then, the vows cementing the bond you’ve been building since that first day in the recording studio. The officiant and photographer seem to sense it too, their soft smiles playing on their lips as they give the vows that were just exchanged a chance to sink in for each of you. 

Rings are exchanged and before you’re able to get a handle on things, the officiant declares you and Max husband and wife. The feeling of sheer relief and excitement washes over both you and Max as you’re told to seal the vows with a kiss. And what a kiss it is. Max pours his entire soul into the first kiss he shares with you as your husband. Everything he said in his vows being repeated by the way his lips cover yours, working over your mouth in such a way that has your knees buckling. 

“I love you so much, wife.” Max murmurs against your lips just before breaking the first of many kisses between husband and wife. 

maxverstappen1 posted

1,309,292 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, assistant shannon, and others maxverstappen1 she's stuck with me forever now danielricciardo EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT THE FUCK user028 did they ELOPE??? Without telling ANYONE??? OH MY GOD??? HELLO??? user448 somehow, this feels very on brand for the both of them >>>user432 i was just thinking the same thing. charlesleclerc I'm sorry, WHAT??? yourpersonalinsta love you, husband >>>user0299 oh my god, i cannot be normal about this landonorris kinda heartbroken I didn't get to be the flower boy, ngl >>>user998 this is such a lando comment oscarpiastri wow! didn't even know you were engaged! congrats. man! >>>user332 why is this the most Oscar Piastri comment I've ever read??? >>>user948 HAHA OSCAR

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,029,398 likes liked by yourdad, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta wife>>>fiance user0298 the HAND PLACEMENT in that last photo. Max, my maaaan. user918 they eloped and didn't tell a single soul. i fucking love this so hard. kikagomes OH. MY. GOD. Congratulations gorgeous girl!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta love you pretty girl! user8892 my man wins his 5th world championship and then gets married in secret, max is winning at life rn assistantshannon so happy for you boss lady. you and max deserve the world. love you!!! >>>yourpersonalinsa so thankful i had your help with this, sweet girl. user827 are we just going to ignore the TATTOO on Max's wrist??? HER??? >>>user0291 oh my god oh my god

tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland

[mxstellatayte]

pretty please: chapter one.

pretty please masterlist.

chapter one warnings: lewis lowkey being a sugar daddy, (sex spoilers after this,) legal use of alcohol, consensual sex!!!, lewis is really good at dirty talking lol, lewis has a big dick haha, oral sex (m and f receiving,) multiple orgasms (f receiving,) belly bulge, praise (m and f receiving,) lewis hamilton aftercare king

chapter one word count: 5.3k (3k words of porn tho don't worry)

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore

join my taglist here!

you made me an offer i can't refuse

thursday, 23 may, 2019

you push out a shaky breath, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in your outfit one last time before stepping out of your hotel room. today is the day you've been both dreading and looking forward to for the past two weeks- the day you interview the one and only lewis hamilton at the monaco grand prix media day.

when you'd been offered the opportunity for a one-on-one interview with one of the most iconic faces in both the fashion and motorsports world, you thought you were dreaming. turns out that the journalist who had originally been assigned to the project had a family emergency and needed time off of work, so the chance to lead the project was yours and yours alone. of course, once you realized that you were not dreaming, you accepted. despite your preparation, you're still terrified. you have ten questions at the ready in your small notebook that you've read over and attempted to memorize approximately twelve times each hour for the past three days, but the practice does nothing to soothe your anxiety.

"fuck it," you say to yourself, inspecting your makeup one last time before slipping your feet into your signature shoes- platform high top converse. once on the streets of monaco, you hail a cab to take you to the circuit, your black and purple media badge secure in your purse. your stomach is twisting with anxiety the whole way there, and when you pay the driver and step out of the cab, it only increases tenfold.

you're about to interview lewis hamilton. no big deal.

yeah.

not a big deal at all.

the next hour and a half is a whirlwind of meeting with lewis' manager to getting your questions checked over to getting a tour of the media center to seeing the recording booth where you're going to be interviewing the driver. it's a nice room, but it's separate from the rest of the media areas, so you assume it's likely not normally for recording podcasts.

"how long do i have before the interview?" you ask, turning to lewis' pr manager.

"about twenty minutes, but lewis is going to be here in ten for soundcheck. make yourself comfortable for now, can i get you anything? water, tea, coffee?"

"a cup of tea would be lovely, thank you." you smile and nod, sitting down inside the booth on the plush couch. in a feeble attempt to quell your nerves, you take your mini notebook out of your bag and go over the questions for the umpteenth time today, but the words on the page blur together as you try to squish down the stirring in your stomach.

"here's the tea for you," someone says, and you're expecting it to be the manager you'd spoken to, but when you look up, you're met with an unfairly beautiful face. oh. okay. this is happening. you're casually accepting a cup of tea from five-time world champion lewis hamilton. the man you're about to interview.

no big deal.

the interview goes by without any hiccups, and, before you know it, your hour in the booth is up, and you say your on-camera goodbyes before they stop recording. as you're about to leave, though, lewis gently touches your upper arm and asks to speak to you for a moment-

only if you don't have something to rush to, of course- and your heart leaps into your throat. had you said something wrong or hit a sensitive nerve with one of your questions?

"i want to thank you. not a lot of reporters are able to ask questions beyond the simple 'how do you plan on winning this weekend' and 'what changes are you going to make based on mistakes made at the previous race,' so i applaud you. your questions were really different from what i was expecting, and your interview style is really unique. i enjoyed talking to you." he extends his hand and you shake it firmly, your chest feeling like it might just explode with pride.

"thank you, mr. hamilton. i'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to speak with you, and i'm looking forward to any i may have in the future." the driver beams, and you can't help but notice the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. it's annoyingly pretty.

"i won't have any of this 'mr. hamilton' nonsense. call me lewis. after talking to you for an hour, i can tell that you're very knowledgeable when it comes to both motor sports and fashion, which is really impressive. and i look forward to speaking with you in the future, too." the two of you chat for a few more minutes before he's summoned once more, and you bid your goodbyes.

a few minutes later, as you're trying to calm down your heart rate so that you can maintain some small semblance of composure before returning to the outside world, one of your long-time friends from college approaches you from behind, and, in her standard fashion, scares the shit out of you.

"boo."

you shriek, your previous efforts to stabilize your heart rate now entirely in vain. "christ, amelia! do you have to sneak up on me everywhere?"

"absolutely. i also have something to tell you something." your eyebrows furrow as she almost instantly moves on from the fact that she nearly scared you half to death mere seconds ago, but you almost fully pass away by choking on your saliva two seconds later. "you've got it really down bad for him, and you're not subtle about it. at all."

after you're done recovering from yet another near-death experience, you punch her left arm. hard. "you are so lucky i don't have a weapon right now." amelia laughs, her head thrown back and her shoulders bouncing with delight.

"awe, come on." she smiles at you, her eyes glittering in their signature way, signaling that she's about to drag you into a potentially messy and new situation. "you know that the rules state very clearly that there's a zero-tolerance policy for physical or verbal harassment."

i got it bad for you, so baby

thursday, 28 november, 2019.

it's your third time interviewing lewis in the 2019 season, and since you first spoke to him at the monaco grand prix, things have changed for both of you. following the success of your interview with him at the monaco grand prix and the article you wrote to go along with it, you'd been promoted from your previous position as fashion field journalist to the lofty title of fashion and sports researcher and journalist. as soon as lewis hears the news, he's sure to congratulate you, this time at one of the biggest spectacles in motorsports: the abu dhabi grand prix. you can't help but beam with pride when he mentions your new title, thanking him again for his time, and remembering to call him by his first name despite how strange it feels.

"i should be congratulating you on something, as well, six-time world champion," you grin, happy as your friendly banter with lewis seems to fall into place. your first time meeting him, you were so terrified of saying something wrong that you didn't let yourself really let go and show your personality. the second time, in mexico, you were able to relax a little bit more and even crack a few jokes. today, you're all smiles and even got breakfast with him before the scheduled meeting time. one anxiety you'd voiced was that the same paparazzi that you've worked with in the past don't take photos of you with the driver and sell them to the media, which would undoubtedly start a pr disaster for both of you.

"if you'd rather have breakfast in the paddock, i can have that set up," he'd offered, and, once again, who would you be to decline such a kind offer?

so here you find yourself, enjoying an expertly brewed italian iced coffee and two perfectly crumbly strawberry scones, sitting across from the reigning world champion of motorsport.

you know, standard thursdays.

"one thing i don't think i've mentioned before," lewis begins, setting down his cup of tea, "is how much i admire that you try to find the human behind the driver."

your eyebrows furrow. "i don't think i follow."

"i now realize my wording is really weird. let me fix that." you laugh, taking another bite of your scone. "you don't exclusively ask questions about driving. you dig into our hobbies and interests outside of the paddock. in my experience, the way you balance questions for both motorsports and fashion is fascinating."

"it's all part of the job. i wouldn't be where i am without interesting questions, would i?" lewis smiles, shaking his head.

"i doubt it, but you are pretty damn smart. i bet you'd find a way to make it here one way or another."

"i'm flattered."

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

sunday, 1 december, 2019

after the race, lewis crossing the line not only in p1, more than 16 seconds ahead of the rest of the grid, but with the fastest lap, as well, you're sure to congratulate him on your social media accounts and in person in the pit lane. "lewis!" his head turns at the sound of your voice, and he sees you moving as quickly as you can down the pit lane, neon green paddock pass hanging from your neck alongside the black and purple media pass. your signature converse and light wash jeans complete your outfit, and his heart swells with joy when he sees that you're still wearing the necklace he gave you.

"hey! i'm glad they let you down here after the race. i was a bit worried i'd have to wring a security guard's neck to get you down here."

"aw, you'd do that for little old me?"

"i'd do just about anything for the most interesting reporter in the paddock," he replies, ever so cocky and so annoyingly pretty. seriously, was he a saint or something in his past life? it feels painfully unfair that he was blessed with such perfect looks and charm. it makes your stomach twist with a flirty giddiness you haven't felt since you were a teenager. it's exciting. "are you coming to the after party?"

"i don't know if i'll be able to. i have a lot to do in the next few days and i honestly don't know if i'm going to be able to take a break on the plane back to london. i'll probably be sitting in my seat going over notes and writing up an article or answering an obscene amount of emails."

"please? just one night? i'll buy your drinks." he bats his eyes at you, and it really shouldn't make you fold as easily as it does, but here you are, sitting in his mercedes and driving to a probably very heinously overpriced club.

a girl needs to be a passenger princess every now and then, right?

when you arrive at the club, you have to force your lips to stay closed so that your jaw doesn't drop in shock and awe. paparazzi swarm you as soon as you step out of the car and lewis hands the keys to the valet, and for a moment, you're convinced this is some sort of sick and twisted fever dream as microphones are shoved in your direction and cameras flash quickly enough to make you glad you don't have photosensitive epilepsy. when lewis' hand rests on the small of your back and he smiles brightly at you, though, you're reassured that this is very much real.

"after you." you smile back at him, your own anxiety lessening just a tiny bit now that you know that he's right there by you.

pretty please, come on over and ruin my life

how did you end up here?

you'll blame it on the alcohol.

either way, lewis' lips feel amazing on yours, and you waddle slightly as he backs you up to the bed in his extravagant hotel room. "need this off," he mutters, hands searching under your shirt and gripping at your waist. your brain is a foggy mess of lust, alcohol, and a lot more lust, and as quickly as you can, you pull back from the kiss (much to lewis' dismay,) tug your shirt out of your waistband and yank it over your head, tossing it somewhere to your right. almost immediately, strong arms wrap back around your torso and you're caged in, and every single one of your senses is flooded with lewis, lewis, lewis. his skin is hot underneath where your hands lay, your right on his cheek and your left clutching the side of his neck as if letting go would result in falling off the face of the earth.

his kisses are messy, desperate, and wet. his tongue glides along your own and you moan wantonly, the noise only further spurring on his efforts. as you lay back against the bed, lewis kisses his way down your chest (when did your bra come off?), lavishing each of your breasts with his tongue and hands. one hand works over your flesh, kneading and pinching while his tongue licks over your right nipple, gently biting and sucking and smirking when you moan once again, switching to the other side. "lewis, oh my god-" you interrupt yourself with an embarrassingly loud whine, your back arching as deft fingers pop open the button on your jeans, unzip the fly, and slip into your panties.

"fuck, darling, so wet for me already," lewis groans, his head buried into your neck as he bites gently at the sensitive skin there. "i'm gonna have to get a taste before i fuck you."

"yes, oh my god, please," you whine, the mere thought of the driver between your thighs making another rush of butterflies flood your lower tummy. you almost laugh when you realize that you still have your converse on and he's struggling with the laces, so you lift yourself up off of the bed and shoo his hands away, instead expertly undoing the white laces in less than ten seconds and kicking them off your feet, leaning back onto your elbows as they hit the ground with a muffled thump. "you are way too overdressed."

sure, you've seen photos of lewis shirtless before, but it doesn't compare to seeing it in person and up close, and...

fuck.

he's beautiful.

"that's not fair."

"what?" lewis laughs, crawling back over you after you both pull your pants off and toss them to the side, and your breath briefly catches in your throat as the scent of his cologne overwhelms your senses.

"you aren't allowed to be nice and hot. it doesn't work like that." lewis laughs, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips that intoxicates you more than any of the high proof alcohols you've drank in the past few hours.

"well, i guess i'm a rule breaker, then." he shuffles you up the bed so that your head rests on the plush pillows, sighing in relief when you think he's finally going to fuck you, but you gasp when he slides his way back down to your thighs, pulls them apart with his hands, and settles between them. "fuck."

"lewis, please. need you."

"what do you need, baby?" he teases as his hands begin stroking up and down your thighs. you're about to respond, but you cut yourself off with a cry when his fingers gently stroke up your panty-covered slit, the sensitivity making your back arch and your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"fucking hell, i... i need you to eat me out."

"i thought you'd never ask." his fingers tug at the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips slightly, just enough for him to slide them off of your legs and add them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. without wasting a second, he dives into your cunt, tongue dragging along your slit from your entrance all the way up to your clit, and you both moan in unison. his hands grab at the meat of your ass, pulling your hips closer to his face, and you yelp, but it's quickly cut off with another moan as lewis' tongue prods at your entrance, hot and insistent.

"mmgh, lewis, fuck, so good." you barely have any control over your own mouth as lewis eats you out, his tongue expertly lapping up every part of your cunt as if it's the best meal he's ever tasted. he quickly figures out what makes you twitch and moan and focuses on that, his nose bumping against your clit as his jaw hinges open and he swallows you whole. his hands tightly grip your ass, the pads of his fingers digging into the skin and definitely leaving some form of marks to appear later in the night, but that's the least of your concerns when you have the world champion of motorsport between your legs. the moans that tumble past your lips echo off of the bare walls of the lavish hotel room, but not a single noise you make is embellished in the slightest- he's just making you feel that good. the coil in your tummy builds and builds, but your brain has been reduced to mush from pleasure, so you have to resort to scrabbling your hands at whatever you can grab, your fingers ultimately tugging at his neat braids. lewis thankfully gets the hint and only increases his efforts, his left hand moving from your ass to gently push two fingers into your entrance, and, when he curls them upwards, perfectly hitting your g-spot, you nearly sob, your orgasm hitting you a lot sooner than you had anticipated. "oh, lewis, don't stop, please. feels so good, baby, fuck."

lewis helps you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, pulling his fingers out of you and pressing a tender kiss to your hipbone before climbing back up to you and connecting your lips in yet another messy kiss, and you groan when you can taste your cum on his tongue. when lewis' boxer-covered erection grinds against your sensitive clit, your mouth falls open in a gasp, letting him take the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and run against yours. when you kiss him, it feels like you've stepped through the gates of heaven and you're kissing an angel. you suck greedily on lewis' tongue and he moans in response, making you smile into the kiss.

lewis pulls back momentarily and you pout, but the sight before you is absolutely beautiful. his skin glows with a thin sheen of sweat and his lips and chin are covered in a mix of your cum and spit. it's gorgeous. "are you okay with this?"

"more than okay," you grin, leaning up to peck his lips quickly. "it's fantastic."

"in that case, i'd love to fuck you properly..." at his words and the feeling of his lips ghosting down the side of your neck, pressing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin, you shiver, your hands coming to rest on the sides of his torso. "if you'll have me, of course."

"please do." with another smile, lewis pushes himself up and off the bed, returning promptly with a condom in his hand. you bite your lip and watch eagerly as he pulls down his boxers, and...

fuck.

you're fucked.

"seriously, lewis? are you kidding?" your head falls back with an exasperated laugh, your shoulders shaking as you realize: of course he's big. if he's nice and attractive, then it's almost a guarantee that he's going to have a big dick. "you really just have it all, don't you?" the mattress dips, and you raise your head again, looking back at him as he crawls towards you, almost catlike in his motions.

"i could say the same for you. beautiful, kind, intelligent, an absolutely killer ass..." you scoff and roll your eyes, trying to come up with a cocky response, but your brain short circuits when you feel lewis begin to push the head of his cock into you. "oh, fuck."

"lewis, oh my god," you keen, your hands reaching up and finding purchase on his broad shoulders for stability. his left hand holds your waist while his right grips at your hip, the tightness of his hold almost painful... almost.

"baby, you're so tight. taking me so well. 's like you were made for me." you're pretty sure the words spilling from lewis' mouth are just mindless, sex-brain-induced babbles, but either way, it makes your pussy throb around him, and you both groan in pleasure when his hips finally meet yours. he looks down at you and almost chokes- you look absolutely stunning. your eyes are screwed shut, your lips parted as breathy moans sneak their way past them, and your hair is splayed around your head like a halo.

when you finally manage to pry your eyes open and steady your breathing, lewis is gazing down at you, and you can't help but pull him down for yet another kiss. how many times have you kissed him tonight?

not enough, you decide.

between soft and slow kisses, you breathe out the words that lewis has been praying you'll say: "you can move, lew." when he does, slowly pulling out most of the way before pushing back in, the drag of his cock against your walls makes you shudder, your nails digging into his shoulders and undoubtedly leaving crescent-moon shaped divots in the skin. "oh... oh, fuck, baby."

"you like that, baby? you like having my cock inside of you?"

all you can muster in response is a meek "mhmm," but that isn't enough for him. he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, and halts his steady thrusts, making you whine.

"use your words. i know you can- you showed me this morning."

"yes!" you sob. "yes, i love feeling you fill me up. i love it, lewis. it feels so good. feels perfect."

"there you go. i knew you could do it." his words make you moan even louder as he resumes his thrusts, this time at a much faster pace. "fuck, look at that. taking me so well... i can even see it. gimme your hand, baby. feel it yourself." he places your left hand low on your stomach, just between your hipbones, and... oh.

oh.

you can feel his dick filling you up under your hand.

"lewis, oh my god!" your moans only increase in volume with his own when he presses down onto the bulge in your tummy with his hand, changing how deeply you feel him, and it sends you hurtling towards your second orgasm of the night embarrassingly fast. "fuck, fuck, lewis, don't stop. feels so good, baby, just like that, yes!" your own hand sneaks around his wrist and rubs circles around your clit, which makes you clench around him, which in turn throws you into your orgasm. "lewis, 'm cumming, 'm cumming, ah!"

"just like that, baby, cum for me. so perfect. so, so perfect." lewis talks and fucks you through your orgasm, his own fingers taking over when yours falter on your clit. when the end of your orgasm trails off, you try to catch your breath, but when your post-orgasmic clarity dawns on you, you realize that lewis didn't cum.

"oh, fuck, lewis... let me suck you off. you didn't cum."

"are you sure? i'm-" he cuts himself off with a grunt, his hips stuttering as he slows his thrusts so as to not hurt you in your oversensitive state, but when you nod, your bottom lip pinched seductively between your teeth, he gives in. "alright, yeah. yeah." he pulls out of you and you roll over, shuffling your way down the bed until you're settled between his legs, your arms resting on his upper thighs.

"you're so pretty, lewis. so, so pretty." if it was a bit brighter in the room, you would've seen the way lewis' mouth ticks open and his dick twitches at your praise, but the singular bedside lamp is barely enough to light the room. instead of noticing, you gently peel the condom off of his cock and toss it in the trash can underneath the bedside table, then settle back between lewis' legs and let a fat drop of saliva leak onto his cock.

"fuck, if you keep saying things like that i'm not gonna last long," lewis groans, his head thrown back into the pillows.

"oh, you don't want to hear me call you pretty? you don't want me to say that you're one of the most beautiful people i've ever laid eyes on, and that i've waited months to be here just to tell you that?" your hand begins lazily stroking his hard cock as you continue rambling shamelessly, your mind a sex-addled haze that you have nearly no control over. after watching in awe as a pearly bead of precum swells at the head of lewis' cock, you decide that enough is enough and that you have to taste him. your tongue falls out of your mouth, the flat of it brushing up the bottom of his dick until you reach the tip, and then you secure your lips around it, and fuck, if having the taste of lewis' cum on your tongue isn't enough to make your eyes flutter shut for a moment, you don't know what is.

lewis' hand finds itself in your hair, pulling gently as you begin to bob your head along the length of his dick, and you can't help but feel pride bloom in your chest when his hips begin bucking up to meet your mouth and hand, shoving the tip so far back you swear the back of your throat might be slightly bruised in the morning. you moan shamelessly as he does so, letting him fuck your mouth as he pleases until he cums, warm ropes of sticky fluid filling your mouth as he spills into you. pulling off, you swallow part of his load and clean what little remains off of his softening cock with gentle kitten licks, smiling faintly as he whimpers quietly at the oversensitivity. after crawling up to the head of the bed and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, lewis' eyes search yours before dipping down to your mouth. you're a bit confused as his left hand comes up to your face, thinking he's going to kiss you again, but instead, his thumb swipes against the corner of your mouth and pries past your lips, a silent order that you obey willingly. you'd missed one tiny drop of his cum on your cheek. his thumb pops out of your mouth momentarily and you collapse down next to him, the exhaustion of the jam-packed day finally catching up to you.

"i'm gonna go grab a towel to clean you up, yeah?" you nod sleepily, a quiet hum escaping your body. "you're staying here tonight. i won't stand for letting you out of my bed for the next twelve hours." this time, if a question mark could be a sound, that's the noise you make. lewis understands you, though. "we'll take my jet. don't worry about your fight." another content sound from you.

by the time lewis returns to the bed, warm damp washcloth in hand, you're asleep, and he can't help but tuck the strands of hair out of your face after he cleans up your swollen cunt and tucks you into the soft bedding, joining you shortly thereafter.

yeah.

he's fucked.

[feminist-space]

"The lawyer helping Robert F. Kennedy Jr. pick federal health officials for the incoming Trump administration has petitioned the government to revoke its approval of the polio vaccine, which for decades has protected millions of people from a virus that can cause paralysis or death.

That campaign is just one front in the war that the lawyer, Aaron Siri, is waging against vaccines of all kinds.

Mr. Siri has also filed a petition seeking to pause the distribution of 13 other vaccines; challenged, and in some cases quashed, Covid vaccine mandates around the country; sued federal agencies for the disclosure of records related to vaccine approvals; and subjected prominent vaccine scientists to grueling videotaped depositions.

Much of Mr. Siri’s work — including the polio petition filed in 2022 — has been on behalf of the Informed Consent Action Network, a nonprofit whose founder is a close ally of Mr. Kennedy. Mr. Siri also represented Mr. Kennedy during his presidential campaign.

Mr. Kennedy, President-elect Donald J. Trump’s choice for health secretary, has said that he does not want to take away access to any vaccines. But as he prepares for his confirmation hearing and plans a fresh health agenda, his continuing close partnership with Mr. Siri suggests that vaccine policy will be under sharp scrutiny. It is a chilling prospect to many public health leaders, especially those who recall the deadly toll of some vaccine-mediated diseases.

At the Trump transition headquarters in Florida, Mr. Siri has joined Mr. Kennedy in questioning and choosing candidates for top health positions, according to someone who observed the interactions but insisted on anonymity to disclose private conversations. They have asked candidates about their views of vaccines, the person said.

Mr. Kennedy has privately expressed interest in having Mr. Siri serve in the Health and Human Services Department’s top legal job, general counsel. However, Mr. Siri has suggested he may have more influence outside the administration. At his law firm, Siri & Glimstad, he oversees about 40 professionals working on vaccine cases and policy.

“Somebody on the outside needs to be petitioning them,” he said on a podcast in late November.

Either way, it’s clear that his voice will be heard at the highest levels."

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/12/13/health/aaron-siri-rfk-jr-vaccines.html

[luvhughes43]

so it goes | jack hughes

[journalist!au masterlist⭐️]

the previous part is linked here !

word count: 6.5k

jack hughes had thin curtains. you would think that a 22 year old millionaire would invest in good curtains, but alas here you were. the sun shone into his room, and you could do nothing but groan as rays of warm light illuminated your face and his. 

you swore jack was a cat with how completely unbothered he was all the time. he’d happily lay and soak up the sun, not bothering to twist away from the light now encasing the room. you look over to your daughter, who slept exactly like her father. leighton was sprawled out on her back, completely content as the sun shone off her.  

“you need better curtains,” you mumble, too awake now to fall back asleep. jack snores lightly in response, and so you move to drape one of leightons baby blankets over the top of her bassinet to help shield her from the light. 

“where u goi-ing?” jack's speech is slurred, and you watch with butterflies as he stretches out across his bed and paws at the empty space where you once were resting. It felt wrong to want him. nothing had happened last night, and yet you were wanting him as if it were two years ago and you hadn’t broken up with him. you wish one of you had been smarter and been the first one to pick up the phone. 

speaking of phones, you pick up yours only to see a slew of messages from friends. you click on claudia's first, and your heart immediately drops.

claudia: i think vivienne was talking about you and jack on her podcast??

claudia: idk she said Jack may have cheated and now ppl are going crazyy

claudia: this is genuinely insane when I catch vivienne…

you: did she mention my name?? did she say anything about leighton ?

you wander out into the kitchen, perching on an island stool with your lip between your teeth. 

claudia: link

claudia: no she didn’t drop names but people are digging. some of jack's fans on twitter are putting the pieces together and speculating that you're the ex but it hasn’t gotten out yet. 

you: wtf

as soon as you send the last message your phone rings with a call. “hello?” 

“what are we going to do about this?” claudia's voice rings out through my speaker and you hastily turn the volume down. 

“well, there's not much that I can do right now”

“uh, you can sue her ass! hello!” 

“sue her for what?

“i don’t know… defamation?” you put claudia on speaker and then swipe up on the call. you do a quick search on twitter, and by screenshots and transcripts it's clear the podcast was solely focuses on jack and whether or not he cheated. “i’m not going to sue her,” you sigh and claudia groans in annoyance. 

“why not?”

you take a second and pause, “well if i sue her everybody would know that i was the ex and also, i don’t even think there’s legal grounds for-”

“okay jack can sue,”

“i don’t think anyone needs to sue,” you reply, setting your phone on the countertop so that you can make yourself a coffee. hopefully jack had some pain meds because your head was starting to throb…

“i’ll talk to Jack about it, but things like this go away. i’m not going to risk leighton getting exposed to crazy fans and to be subjected to vivienne's publicity”

“vivienne has already damaged that little girl's life,”

“and so I'm not going to let her do anything else! if vivienne speaks on leighton then i'll look into my legal options. but no, i'm not going to let her get any more of my time. i need to focus on my daughter, and my family, so if some influencer wants to go on the internet spreading lies then so be it! i’m done with her. I can’t handle any more than i already have,”

claudia's silent on the line and for a brief second you're afraid she’s hung up the phone. “claudia…?”

“she’s going to get her karma. she can’t be let off the hook forever”

“oh, trust she will. but i’m not going to have a hand in it,”

⋆ ★

vivienne

liked by oliviajade, alisha, alix_earle, and 267 092 others

vivienne as promised… some exciting things are coming your guys’ way! follow viv212 to stay in the loop! 💆🏼‍♀️🍾

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oliviajade cant waittt!! <3

alisha youre stunnninggg ! cant wait to have you on the pod!❤️

user01 ahh so excited to see what u have in store viv!!

user02 we know what u did!!!

user03 ?

user02 don't question me.

claudiasphotos posted 2 years ago !

Liked by ynuser, jackhughes, and 581 others

claudiasphotos yn 📸🥂

tagged: ynuser

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ynuser love you!!! thank you for the incredible photos🫶

jackhughes ❤️‍🔥

newest comments

user04 jacks heart?? the tag?? is this his ex gf

user05 wait what

user06 claudia is yn’s friend! they both follow each other

user05 maybe yn just modelled?

user07 how tf did u guys find this acc? Im crying there's no way😭😭

⋆ ★

when jack found out about the podcast episode he was beyond pissed off. vivienne telling everyone that he was a cheater was one thing, but spreading those lies knowing that she helped keep him away from his daughter… he had never felt rage quite like it. 

“i’m getting lawyers involved,” is all jack says to yn when he passes her phone back to her. “i don't want her speaking about us ever again,” jack’s voice is steady and firm. 

“what are you asking the lawyers to do?” 

“sue her, make her take down the video, i don't know they’ll find something,” jack rambles, pulling out his own phone from his pocket.

“i just want to make sure that she doesn’t speak about leighton,” you say, deliberately choosing not to say vivienne's name.

jack looks away from his phone to make eye contact with you. “i swear i’ll make sure of it,” 

“thank you,” you respond simply, cradling your head in the palm of your hand. when was this nightmare going to end. 

⋆ ★

“you’ve got to take the video down,” viviennes manager, louis reiterates for the tenth time. 

“well, no” vivienne sasses as she scrolls through her social blade. “it’s pulling in insane numbers i’m not taking it down because of one complaint,”

“lawsuit, it’s a lawsuit vivienne” louis sighs, cursing himself for even taking influencers on as clients. 

vivienne sighs dramatically. “i dated jack for months, the video should be my compensation”

“his lawyers want you to sign an NDA,” 

“well i’m not signing or taking down anything,” 

theres a tense silence for a minute before louis groans in frustration. “he doesn’t want you talking about his kids,”

“kid. singular. he only has the one,” 

“can you stop being difficult? you’re going to lose more money than you’ll gain if you don’t just settle with jack. delete the video, and sign the NDA that his lawyers are going to send over,”

“but-”

“but nothing! your brand is dropping next week. if you delete the video now people will be tuned into your next moves,” louis explains his business plan, even though he’s mentally cursing vivienne in his mind. 

“fine.” vivienne stubbornly admits defeat as she switches off her social blade and logs into her podcast channel. 

⋆ ★

⋆ ★

it was the beginning of december now, and jack’s schedule has picked back up now that he was back to playing. as well as the busy schedule, vivienne had finally signed the NDA jacks lawyers had sent over, and with her podcast episode scrubbed from the internet all was well for the moment. 

on jack’s days off it wasn’t uncommon to find him at his ex-girlfriends place, which is why when y/n got off work she didn’t bat an eye that jack was chilling on her couch with their baby in his arms. 

“did you pay the babysitter?” you ask absentmindedly as you shrug off your coat and let your work bag drop to the ground. 

“yes i did! isn’t that right leighton? daddy paid the sitter?” jack coos, eyes never straying from the little girl in his arms. leighton giggles loudly, her little hands smacking at her dads cheeks who grins in delight. 

“thank you!” you call out as you round towards the kitchen. “are you staying for dinner?”

jack gets up off the couch and settles himself in the kitchen. leightons little hand grips at her dads shirt, the other tugging on his finger. “do you mind?”

“no,” you reply softly, and when you look up from the pantry you catch eyes with jacks. you immediately feel delighted and delirious at the sight of him (looking handsome) with your girl resting happily in his hold. “leighton, do you want daddy to stay for dinner?” 

“dada!” leighton squeaks, and both yours and jack’s heads whip towards the small girl. 

“did you just say dada?” jack giggles, his face lit up with pure joy.

“dada!” she says again, wiggling in his grasp. 

you gasp, “our baby’s first word!” and rush to be by jack’s side. he looks up at you fondly before using one of his arms to bring you closer to his side. “leighton! say it again, say dada!”

leighton doesn’t respond this time, just giggling happily at her parents' happy words and sounds of encouragement. “she said my name,” jack whispers sappily, and when you look at his face you see tears line his eyes. 

“she knows who her daddy is,” you smile tearfully, leaning your head against jack’s who leans his against your chest. 

“i’m so happy i get to know her,” jack’s voice is quiet as he gazes at his daughter. he still wasn’t over the fact that he missed your pregnancy and the first few months of leightons life, but hearing his daughter call for him certainly helps ease some of the sadness. 

you don’t reply to jack’s comment, knowing that there’s nothing in the world that you can say that would erase any of the past. so instead you brush your hand through jack’s hair, and enjoy the happy moment. 

⋆ ★

vivienne

liked by viv212, alixearle, and 137 008 others

vivienne so beyond excited to announce that my haircare brand viv212, is being released next friday! please follow the viv212 account for updates, posts, and product info before the first launch! i love you guys so much! mwah <3

tagged: viv212

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alixearle loveeeee

alexandracooper Cannot waitt!!

user08 AHH VIV!! <33 

user09 saving up as we speak🫂

user10 another influencer brand… we do NOT care!!

⋆ ★

jack’s voice rings out through your phone's speaker, his face half in view as he brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. you guys were just talking nonsense now - you had both put your daughter to bed a long time ago but jack didn’t get off facetime like you had expected him to. 

you were both distracted which if claudia asks, is your excuse for staying on facetime with him so late. because really, you were catching up on work and it just so happens that jack was talking to you in the background. 

“do you think if i started reading now then my brain power would double?” jack asks absentmindedly through a mouth full of toothpaste. he spits, “quinns doing it and he says he feels smarter. but i don't know,” 

“i don't know about double… but it’d definitely help!” you tease, looking up from your mounds of documents to catch jack pouting at you. 

“that's kind of mean!” he replies as he rinses off his tooth brush. “but whatever, what are you doing for the holidays?” 

you watch silently as jack pulls his phone off the hotel bathroom counter, and tosses it on his bed. you stare at his hotel room ceiling as you reply, “my parents are going on vacation so i’m just gonna stay here. do you have any plans?” 

jack picks up his phone - shirt noticeably gone - before he settles himself in his bed. “my family’s gonna fly in to jersey. quinn’s coming too. it’s just easier with our schedules and luke and i being here already,” he responds, and you nod along to his words. you missed the hughes family. they were so unlike your family growing up. their parents were present and not always gone for work, and it felt so nice to be around siblings who weren’t constantly at each other’s throats. 

“that’s really nice,” you hum. “i have a few days off during your break. you should pick a date when we’re both free for your family to meet leighton,” 

“mom’s so excited,” jack chuckles. “i keep sending her photos and videos but it’s never enough,” 

“your mom’s so sweet,” you smile, leaning your head in your palm as you look at jack. “she texts me everyday just to check in and wish me well,” 

jack smiles back, and you would pay any amount to know what he was thinking. “quinn’s excited too. luke keeps teasing him about how he met the baby first,” 

you roll your eyes - that was such a luke thing to do - and before you can reply there's a sharp succession of knocks at your door. 

“are you expecting someone…?” jack asks with a frown, and you shake your head. 

“not that i know off… one second,” you walk towards the front door and if you had brought your phone with you you would have seen the worry and concern etched on jacks face. 

you look through your doors peephole, before shouting a quick, “it’s just claudia!” which causes jack to visibly relax. 

“just claudia” the woman in question mimics as you finally open the door. “who are you talking to,” 

“jack,” you reply, and claudia rolls her eyes dramatically as she pulls her shoes off and wanders over to your phone. 

she waves at jack, before telling him that you have to hang up. you barely get a good-bye in when she’s hanging up the call and turning towards you with a grin. “you're still talking to jack? at 9:30pm on a monday…” she teases, and takes your spot at the counter. 

“we were putting leighton to bed!” you refute, ignoring the knowing looks your best friend was sending your way. 

“uh-huh,” she shakes her head. “you’re unbelievable!” 

“no i’m not! that’s my daughter's father! who, by the way… was her first word,” 

“yah yah, if auntie c were easier to pronounce she’d call my name first,” claudia laughs before composing herself. “but seriously y/n, you guys broke up for a reason. you can’t just forget all about that now that you see him with the baby,” 

“i’m not getting back together with him! it’s different now. we’re just friends,” you defend pathetically, knowing very well that you were already re-developing feelings for your ex. 

“i just want you to be careful,” claudia stresses, grabbing a hold of your hands and pulling you into the chair next to her. 

“i wasn’t in the right headspace last time. i was insecure and i-”

“he was still liking other people’s posts and staring down models babe, just be careful please,” claudia reiterates. 

you nod, knowing that she was ultimately right. “we have better communication now. we’ve grown,” 

 “whatever you say!” claudia wraps up the conversation, before diving into the reason she actually came over. “okay, but i logged into my photography account and people are starting to connect the dots that you’re, well… you”

“what do you mean?” you question, picking up all of your work documents and placing them back in your bag. 

“there’s a few instagram comments speculating. jack left a heart comment on one of my posts about you when you were still dating, and his fans have just found it now. do you want me to go private? delete the comments? i don't know,” claudia explains, pulling up her photography instagram and scrolling through the comment section of said posts. 

you think for a minute, before responding simply, “keep it up, i don’t really care”. claudia nods and logs out of the account. 

⋆ ★

drama.alert 

liked by trevorzegras, and 11 913 others

drama.alert people have finally received their viv212 hair products after a massive delay in shipment, and unfortunately the product is causing their hair to fallout :/ despite being asked to comment, vivienne nor her team have responded to the accusations. not the best way to start a brand is it? what are you guy’s thoughts?

tagged: vivienne, viv212

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user11 whoever buys haircare from an influencer deserves it lowkey🤷‍♀️

user12 yikesss😬 looks like the products were rushed and there wasn’t a lot of time to get the formula right… i hope everyone who lost hair grows it back quickly. what a shame. 

user13 i honestly can’t believe she hasn't spoken up yet. the people who bought her products were all fans so this is just soo disappointing. she better apologize and start refunding people soon or she’s going to lose A LOT of loyal fans and viewers. 

user14 YUP! this! and did u see the pr reviews? lotss of acting going on lol. you can tell that nobody likes the products and it's obvious as to why! very messy and not good at all. 

user15 trevor? wtf are you doing here??😭

user16 he stands on business

user17 trevor is so damn messy liking this im cryingg

user18 who tf is trevor?

user17 jacks best friend lol 

user18 ohh that's so nasty..😭

vivienne

liked by mikaylajmakeup, tanamongeau, and 68 002 others

vivienne i hope u guys are loving all the products! let me know if u guys got anything💐

tagged: viv212

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viv212 😍😍✨

user19 yeah girl we did get products… AND NOW MY HAIR HAS STARTED TO FALL OUT!

user20 this is so out of touch. you’ve ruined so many peoples hair!! apologize!!!

user20 youve really shown ur true colours lol.

user21 posting this as if u haven't ruined so many of ur fans hair… wow..

user22 ignore all the hate viv! I know u just haven't seen the reviews! take all the time u need to respond <3

user23 bffr she's just money hungry and dgaf if she ruins her fans hair for money. shes weird af

⋆ ★

if you thought work was rough before - with all the bad articles you were given- you weren’t prepared for what was waiting for you on monday. after a peaceful weekend with your babygirl and your best friend claudia, the last thing you were expecting was to receive the worst case you’d ever been assigned. 

“y/n, we need you to cover social media drama today,” your boss had said. there were a million headlines rushing through your mind, from small scandals to non-disclosure disputes, you hadn’t even considered you’d be assigned to write about… viviennes new brand. 

“i mean, are you fucking kidding me?” you whisper-shout to claudia through the phone. you were pacing inside the girl’s washroom, disbelief written across all your features as you stare perplexed at the folder in your hand. “her brand is making peoples hair fall out. and i have to write about it… this is a joke. this actually can’t be real,”

“are you even allowed to write about her? with jack’s NDA and everything?” claudia asks from the bathroom stall at her work. 

“i mean, it was just about leighton and my identity, and the whole jack cheating thing, i don’t think it applies to this,” you're beyond stressing. the story had to be finished by lunch and here you were, pacing the bathroom borderline having a panic attack. “i think i’m going to pass out,” 

“okay breathe! breathe!” claudia's voice was loud and clear on the other line. “you’re just going to write the article with indifference, and everythings going to be fine!” 

“indifference? she fucking kept jack from finding out about our baby and harassed me?” you seethe, stopping in front of the sink to splash your face with some water. “this article is going to be so biased,”

“regardless of your history, she's an asshole. i mean she’s literally causing people’s hair to fall out,” claudia states, flushing so her coworkers don’t get suspicious of her long bathroom break. 

“i’m just going to write it and i’ll call jack once he's out of practice,” you settle, knowing there is really no way out of your work. even if you told your boss you had a history with vivienne and that there was going to be bias, they wouldn’t care. they just wanted the story posted so they’d garner as many clicks as possible since it was going viral right now. 

“okay, good luck! love you,” claudia says her goodbyes, and with a quick i love you back, you hang up on your best friend and prepare to write. 

⋆ ★

you had called jack after his practice, but with the articles deadline hastily approaching there was nothing you could do to delay writing the article. jack of course understands, offering a quick, “i’m sure she won’t read it anyway,” before he was called back into whatever a hockey job required on the daily. 

once the article was published on the newspaper's website, and vivienne hadn’t outright harassed you, you take a deep relieved breath before continuing with the rest of your day. 

⋆ ★

of course, vivienne the lurker had seen y/ns article about her hair products. she’s seen every little message and video about the whole situation, and so as tempting as it is to find y/ns number and send her a… compromising video of jack, she resisted. instead, she took her anger out on her manager who insisted she sign an NDA in the first place. 

“you made me sign that stupid document! now i can’t even say anything about her! she's slandering my name and brand!” vivienne yells, fuming as she paces around her office. her manager, who was sitting on one of her chairs, rolls his eyes. 

“you wouldn’t be able to say anything regardless of the NDA. you know you’re in the wrong with the whole, y/n-jack-baby situation. and plus, lashing out at journalists won’t do you any good when you post your apology,”

“it's not fair!” vivienne whines. “what am i supposed to do? she’s just going to get away with this?”

“your interns and i have worked up a statement for you to record. you should probably try and get ahead of this now before it's too late,” her manager finishes, placing a small packet of papers on vivienne's desk. 

“whatever,” she huffs stubbornly, leafing through the small apology packet. 

⋆ ★

after a rough two weeks, it was finally time for the rest of the hughes family to meet baby leighton. ellen and jim were beyond ecstatic, carrying armloads of gifts for their granddaughters first holiday season. 

the family comes to visit after leightons nap, so for the grand reveal you sit the family down in your living room and bring your daughter to them. “awh… she’s so sweet!” ellen immediately starts to tear up as you slowly place the tired baby in her arms. “leighton baby,” she coos, finger tracing leightons little nose as the baby looks up at her. “she looks just like jack when he wa a baby,” 

“she’s perfect, guys,” jim speaks next, gently holding little leightons hand in his larger one. 

quinn sits quietly just taking in the sweet moment. he remembers the night jack first called him, panicked and lost about the whole situation. he was just so glad everything was working out for his younger brother, and to see jack become a father? it was surreal. 

“i don’t think i want to let her go,” ellen laughs softly as tears spill down her face. jack discretely wipes away his own stray tears as he watches his parents fall in love with his daughter. 

“that’s how i felt when i first met her too,” jack laughs weakly as he presses the corner of his sleeve into the corner of his eyes. you stand close behind him, rubbing his back comfortingly and he leans into your touch. every time you were reminded of what happened, you felt such a strong pang of guilt. like it was somehow your fault that jack didn’t get to experience the pregnancy, birth, and first few months of his baby’s life. 

ellen passes the baby to her husband, and then slowly makes her way over to you. she holds out her arms, and you easily walk into them. “you did so good,” she says, and all of your feelings bubble to the surface as you softly cry. 

“i’m really sorry,” you whisper to her and she only holds you tighter. “i should've tried harder - i thought that he didn't want to be in her life,” you gasp through your tears. ellen squeezes you and whispers reassuringly in your ear. she was always so kind to you and it made you feel sick sometimes - this family loves so thoroughly and effortlessly, something you missed from your own parents. 

when your calm enough, you remove yourself from ellens arms. jim was now cuddling leighton and quinn was leaning over his shoulder. luke was teasing jack about something, having already met leighton a long time ago. when jack notices you're no longer hugging his mom, he grabs hold of your hand and gently soothes his thumb across the back of your hand. 

you spend the rest of the evening in your apartment surrounded by family. 

⋆ ★

ynuser

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ynuser leightons first holiday season🥹🤍

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes to many more!❤️

colecaufield did you get the gifts i sent? 

ynuser yes! leighton loves all the habs merch!

jackhughes but she loves the devils more!

trevorzegras cant wait to meet her!❤️

_quinnhughes lee is the cutest!❤️

claudia loveee😭😭🫶

user1 happy holiday sweetheart! 

jackhughes added to his close friends! 

⋆ ★

after viviennes less than impressive apology, her fans quickly gave up on the star. people who were only invested in vivienne for the jack hughes drama, grew bored, and angry fans were boycotting viviennes videos and social media platforms to show the influencer their disappointment with her behaviour. she lost thousands of followers, and she was absolutely pissed off. 

behind the scenes, her friend emily was fuming. vivienne had promised her a shoutout on her pages in order to boast the girls social blade, and with all the recent drama vivienne kept pushing the dates. so, emily did what she thought was best.

REDDIT SNARK PAGE

user455595654: vivienne aiden sent nasty messages to jack’s ex girlfriend while she was dating him from random instagram accounts. here are some of the tamer ones lol. she drunkenly confessed to me one night and i got her to send me ss to keep as collateral incase she fucks things up as usual. so there's that

jack hated you so bad that he couldn't stand being a father to his child... and you know that he wants to be a dad in the future. gonna make him a dad and send u the pics. know ur worth nothing

he never wanteddd you... and know he doesnt want his baby

happy birthday to your baby! thought i'd send u a message since we know jack's not.

crazy that you get to look at your babygirl and know that she was abandoned. probably hurts

he's all up on me :)

⋆ ★

“did you want to take any of the clothes leightons got for your house?” you ask jack as you fold leightons laundry. jack’s family and friends went a little overboard with the gifts, and so now you were left with dozens of little onesies and clothes in various different team styles. 

jack glances over at you and nods, and you can’t help but wonder what’s got him so distracted. he’s barely taken his eyes off his phone in the past half-hour, and even though it was none of your business you were starting to worry. 

“do you have any preference?” you follow up, hoping to get at least a response. 

“uh,” jack tears his eyes away from his phone and takes a deep breath. “i’ll uh, whatever you think,”

you sit in silence for a moment, thumbing quietly through your daughter's pile of clothes before deciding to question jack. “okay, what’s going on is there-”

“did uh, did vivienne…” you pale immediately at his words as your heart starts racing. “the messages she sent you uh,”

“what-”

“someone posted them online and i just - they got sent to me and i need you to confirm if they’re real of if someones just fucking around,” jack finishes shakily, and you sit in shock as he passes his phone over to you with unsteady hands. 

there were so many messages, each taking you back to when you first received them. you remember the panic each time a new one came in, how you kept blocking viviennes accounts and how a new one always replaced it. you nod slowly, and jack breathes in. 

“i’m going to- i-” he stutters, cluelessly trying to piece together a coherent plan. 

you pass his phone back, and slowly focus your gaze onto jack. his hands are trembling, and his jaw keeps clenching as he scrambles to make sense of what he’s been reading. “why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“i’m sorry,” your voice is quiet and jack has to strain his ears to hear you. the familiar pang of guilt wells up in you again and you so desperately wish that you had just told jack the full truth. that there were dozens of more messages, and that you had been receiving them for much longer than you had let on. that you received instagram follow requests from accounts impersonating your coworkers and friends in attempts to bait you to accept them. you knew vivienne was borderline stalking you, but you didn’t want to worry jack further. you witnessed his reaction to the first batch of messages, how he gagged and cried and blamed himself. you shouldn’t have hid the rest from him, but you didn’t want to be the one to expose him to all the hurtful things you were dealing with. you wanted to put an end to the past and to move on, but it seemed vivienne and whoever was in her close circle were determined to keep you hooked and battered. 

“is there anything else? i want to know everything,” jack replies, his hands twisting together as he fidgets. you nod slowly, and jack looks sick with worry as you beckon him to sit down.

you take a deep breath before pulling out your phone. you still had all of viviennes messages saved in your dm requests, and you click on one of her burner accounts. “she uh, sent me these pictures after i had given birth,” you explain with a shaky voice. when you pass over your phone, jack sees all the lewd pictures his ex had sent to you. pictures of the two of them, cropped so you couldn't make out the faces but it was still so blindingly obvious. some of the pictures were tame, jacks back to the camera as he cooked with a simple caption “he’s so sweet to me❤️”. others not so much - dark lingerie, jacks hands wrapped around viviennes body and cupping her boobs. a picture of his head resting against her naked chest, her hand buried in his hair. it went on and on, all with annoying captions talking about how he was hers and that he didn’t want a family. 

the worst picture though was of an unused pregnancy test sitting in the palm of viviennes hand, “he’ll love our baby!❤️” . 

it took awhile to go through everything, and jack sat unusually quiet as he switches between different message threads. “i, i don’t know what to do,” jack admits after you had showed him everything. 

“there’s nothing that you can do,” you reply simply.

“i didn’t get her pregnant,” he states, completely disregarding your reply. “she was just being cruel and trying to bait you or something-”

“jack i know-”

“and you know that if i knew about leighton i wouldn't have abandoned her, and those pictures, i didn’t know she was taking half of them let alone sending them to you, i just-”

you place a hand on jacks arm, silently urging him to stop explaining. “i know,” 

“i’m just- learning about all of this for the first time-” 

you let your hand trail down jack’s arm, and then you slip your hand into his. you squeeze twice, and then run your thumb along the width of his hand - a habit you picked up when the two of you were dating. jack squeezes back. 

you don’t have time to say anything else before leightons soft cries spill out of the baby monitor. “da-da,” she whines, and when you turn to look at the monitor you see her thrashing around in her crib. 

“i’ll get her,” jack says with a gentle tone as he squeezes your hand one more time. 

you cuddle into your throw blanket, completely and mentally exhausted from the night's events when you hear jack’s soft voice through the monitor. 

“i’m always gonna be here for you okay? dada will always be here,” 

“i love you my sweet girl, always.”

 ⋆ ★

he had liked her. he had actually liked vivienne when they were together and the thought makes him feel sick. 

jack had first met her two months after his breakup with y/n. it was way too soon in his opinion - but his teammates were relentless and tired of his moping around. so, instead of picking up the phone and dialing y/ns number he had agreed to meet the girl everyone seemed to think would be a good match for him. and she was at first, it was simple and there were no complicated feelings. jack didn’t promise to be anything, and vivienne was fine with that. there was no pressure to stay hidden, they went out and had fun. not that y/n didn't go out, but there was a clear difference between both girls and jack wasn’t mad about it. 

that didn’t stop him from thinking about y/n though. he still had a photo album dedicated to their pictures together, and he still had her favourite music neatly organized in one of his playlists. he never deleted the list of her favourite things from his phone, never unpinned the addresses of the new museums, art galleries, and coffee shops they wanted to try. jack hadn't done anything at all, instead he let himself drift and he found some comfort in a girl he wasn’t sure he even understood properly because really, there were two sides to vivienne aiden and jack didn't have a strong grasp on either. 

now that he was with y/n again, or at least raising their daughter together, he can’t help but feel the urge to get to know her again. he wanted to do everything a boyfriend would do, but the timing was always wrong. they were parents first now, and it was way too soon to start a relationship up again. 

plus, they broke up for a reason. jack would be the first person to admit that he was in the wrong. liking other girl’s picks and lingering on girls in public… meanwhile he had the most amazing girl he’d ever met on his arm. he felt like such a fucking idiot, and ruminating on those facts on the drive back to new jersey seemed like a constant these days. his communication was awful too, not apologizing and not realizing the problems sooner. now he faced those consequences, driving an hour each way to spend time with his daughter. he should be there all the time, or they should be here - whatever. 

traffic stalled, and jack sat in uncomfortable silence. no depressing country song would even come close to how awful he was feeling right now. then when he got home he’d be faced with luke and his family, all doped up on all the quality time they were fortunate enough to scrape together between everyone's busy schedules. he was so tired, and everything just seemed to keep piling up. he didn’t want to hide anymore, he was tired of vivienne dictating his life and making y/n feel awful. 

therefore a week later with your permission and before jack boarded his flight for his roadie, he posted a simple but effective instagram post. 

jackhughes 

liked by trevorzegras, colecaufield, dawson1417, and 361 299 others

jackhughes baby’s first holiday season❤️

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trevorzegras does she love the duck teddies i sent?

colecaufield little love bug🐞

dawson1417 my best girl !

_alexturcotte dads a dad🫡

holtz_10 bring her to the rink when were back

_quinnhughes best duo💯

lhughes_06 tell everyone who her favourite uncle is (it's me)

nicohischier happy holidays!❤️🎄

user24 WHAT THE FUCK?????

user25 JACK?? DAD??? IM SO CONFUSED WTF

user26 this has to be a joke

user27 im crying so hard is he actually a dad?? this is my worst nightmare omfg

user28 congrats on the baby hughes! being a father is hard work but its rewarding!

user29 who’s the mom??? vivienne?? 

user30 no its 1000% his ex. look jacks name up on twitter and you’ll find all the threads!

user31 omg… 

user32 im in disbelief i think i passed out what the ..

user33 this HAS to be yns baby omfg. If u compare the backgrounds of these photos it’s literall her apartment

user34 ? how tf do u know what her apartment looks like?

user33 it’s the same background in her friends pics of her

user34 that sounds genuinely psychotic im sorry!

user35 DAD JACK DAD JACK DAD JACK

everything had already gone viral with vivienne, and there was nothing else for jack to add to the public speculations aside from be truthful. so he worked behind the scenes to protect his family, and made it known he wasn’t hiding or playing anymore. 

vivienne got what she deserved, and her career would surely be over with the massive amount of hate she received, and jack knew it too. the countless voicemails she left told him enough, and with every swift delete and the final press of the block button - he felt a massive weight lift of his chest.

-

-

-

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Six: Playing Baby Sitter SS: 11 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 2.4K Content Warnings: Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Discussion of disappearances and murder, brief mention of vomit,

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The street corner is enveloped in an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant murmur of late-night traffic and the occasional figure passing by. Minho stands there, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he adjusts the weight of Hayun in his arms.

She leans heavily against him, her senses clouded by a mixture of alcohol and drugs, rendering her unable to stand on her own. Her black mini skirt hikes up slightly, and her cropped top, barely reaching below her chest, provides little protection against the chill of the night air. Draped over her attire is an oversized Packers jacket, while her knee-high boots bear the marks of numerous stumbles on the uneven pavement.

Minho, clad in his trademark black leather jacket, with silver chains catching the light under the streetlamps, and torn black jeans, seems completely out of his element in the role of a babysitter. He steadies Hayun with one arm, while the other delves into her clutch. His fingers find a small orange pill bottle, and a wave of concern washes over him as he reads the label: Oxycodone.

"For fuck's sake," he mutters under his breath, slipping the bottle back into her bag before closing it up.

Hayun groans softly, her head lolling to the side as she tries to focus on something, anything, but her vision is swimming. Minho rolls his eyes, muttering, "I barely know you, and here I am playing babysitter for your high ass."

Just then, Chan's car pulls up to the curb, headlights cutting through the darkness. Minho sighs in relief as Chan hops out, looking between Minho and the practically unconscious Hayun with raised eyebrows. 

"Is this Hayun?" Chan asks, already moving to help.

Minho nods. "Yep. Help me get her in the backseat."

Together, they manoeuvre Hayun into the back of Chan's car, her limbs limp and uncooperative. Minho slides in next to her, cradling her head in his lap to keep her from flopping around too much. Chan hands him a plastic bag before getting back into the driver's seat.

"Just in case she throws up," Chan says, glancing at them through the rearview mirror as he starts the engine.

Minho nods, holding the bag with one hand and keeping a steadying hand on Hayun with the other. Her breathing is slow, her eyes half-open but unfocused.

"Jeongin was right in the group chat," Minho says after a moment of silence. "I found a bottle of oxy in her bag. It's prescribed to her, though."

Chan frowns, keeping his eyes on the road. "You think she's got someone to write her a fake prescription? The way Jeongin described it made it sound like she's not exactly getting them legally."

Minho sighs, looking down at Hayun's pale face. "Probably. Jeongin, Felix, and Jisung are still out because Hayun said she didn't want to see them yet. I'm going to take her back to their place and stay with her tonight. I don't know if Felix and Jisung know about her habit, but clearly Jeongin does."

Chan's knuckles tighten on the steering wheel as he navigates the quiet streets. "You sure she'll be okay? It's pretty heavy stuff she's on."

"Yeah," Minho replies, though he doesn't sound entirely sure. "I'll keep an eye on her. If anything seems off, I'll take her to the hospital."

They fall into silence again as Chan drives toward the house. When they arrive, Minho pulls out the key Jisung gave him through Hyunjin and unlocks the door while Chan carries Hayun inside. The house is quiet, eerily so, with only the soft buzz of electronics humming in the background. It feels strangely empty without the usual chaos of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin filling the air with laughter or heated podcast debates.

The two of them head upstairs, Hayun's weight a burden Chan carries with ease. They push open the door to Hayun's room, and both of them stop for a moment, taking in their surroundings.

"Jesus Christ," Chan mutters under his breath, his eyes sweeping over the room. "She has a lot of books."

Bookshelves line the walls, stacked high with everything from thick psychology textbooks to crime novels, true crime memoirs, and random pieces of literature that look like they've been read and reread a hundred times.

"Yeah, she seems the type," Minho says, watching as Chan carefully places Hayun onto her bed, arranging the pillows so she's lying on her side in case she throws up during the night.

They both stand at the end of the bed for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Minho folds his arms, glancing down at Hayun's unconscious form. Her breathing has evened out, and she seems more or less settled, but he's still on edge.

Chan and Minho sit at the edge of Hayun's bed, both keeping a careful eye on her to make sure she stays on her side. The silence in the room feels thick, broken only by the soft sound of Hayun's slow, even breathing. Chan shifts slightly, glancing over at Minho.

"You don't have to stay, you know," Minho mutters, not taking his eyes off Hayun.

Chan leans back, shaking his head. "Two people are better than one, right? Besides..." He hesitates, then sighs. "Even though I don't know her, I'd spend the night worrying about her if I left. Not really my style to leave someone like this."

Minho lets out a small grunt of agreement, his eyes still fixed on Hayun. "Yeah... I get that."

There's a pause before Minho speaks again, voice quieter this time. "You know, you'd never be able to tell she was an oxy addict unless you caught her like I did. She hides it well."

Chan nods, glancing toward the stack of books on Hayun's bedside table. "Sometimes you can never tell with a person. I mean, look at her, Felix, and Jisung. Their whole brand is Three Sunshines—people see them as these happy, upbeat podcasters talking about murder like it's nothing. But there's always something more beneath the surface."

Minho's expression hardens slightly. "She's got demons, Chan."

"Don't we all?" Chan replies softly, leaning forward with a sigh.

Minho doesn't respond, his gaze flicking toward Hayun's desk. Something catches his eye—a stack of notebooks, their spines neatly arranged, diaries maybe. Without thinking, he stands up and walks over to them.

"What are you doing?" Chan asks, watching him carefully.

Minho fingers the spine of one of the notebooks before opening it, flipping through the pages. "When we talked to Lia about the night Yuna disappeared, she mentioned that Hayun vanished at the party. They didn't find her until the next morning, passed out."

"So?" Chan leans forward, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"So..." Minho continues, scanning the dates on the spines of the diaries. "They were at one of Song Mingi's parties. It's odd that no one could locate her that night, don't you think?"

Chan's eyes narrow. "You're going through her diary? That's a massive invasion of privacy, man."

"The night Yuna disappeared, no one could find Hayun until the next morning. I'm just making sure I'm not working with the person who killed Yuna. Or my sister."

Chan doesn't say anything for a moment, just watches Minho as he pulls out the diary from five years ago and flips to the entry around the time of Yuna's disappearance.

"Here it is," Minho mutters under his breath. His eyes scan the page quickly, and then they narrow as he reads the words aloud: "I wish I couldn't remember. I wish I had never met Shin Yuna or Song Mingi. I wish they both died."

Chan's eyes widen slightly, but he shakes his head. "She was fourteen, Minho. That sounds like teenage angst to me. Don't jump to conclusions."

"Maybe," Minho says, though his tone suggests he's not entirely convinced. He pulls out his phone and takes pictures of the pages, just in case.

Chan watches him with a frown. "Didn't Jeongin say she was scared of Mingi?"

"Yeah," Minho replies, his voice tense. "Any time he's mentioned, she shuts down. It's like a switch flips in her. She goes stiff, looks terrified. There's definitely something there."

Chan rubs the back of his neck, leaning back against the bedpost. "Me and Changbin asked around campus like we said we would. And you were right—there's something off about that guy. The women we talked to clammed up the second his name came up. They wouldn't say shit."

Minho nods grimly, placing the diary back on Hayun's desk. "Jeongin mentioned that when we go to talk to Mingi, Hayun won't come with us. She refused. Whatever happened between them, it's deep."

"That's what worries me," Chan says, his voice low. "There's gotta be a reason why the women on campus won't talk about him. That's not just a coincidence. He's dangerous. You can feel it."

Minho clenches his fists, his jaw tight. "We'll figure it out. Someone will talk. There's no way someone like Mingi operates without leaving cracks. We'll find out what the fuck he's hiding."

Chan leans forward again, glancing toward Hayun's unconscious form. "I just hope we're not too late, Minho. I mean, she's already—" He stops, nodding toward Hayun. "Look at her. She's on fucking oxy. Whatever happened five years ago, it's still eating her alive."

Minho sits back down at the foot of Hayun's bed, his gaze heavy as he watches her sleep off the effects of whatever cocktail of substances she'd taken. He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I think I know where she's getting the drugs."

Chan's eyebrows raise as he leans forward slightly. "Yeji?"

Minho nods, a bitter edge to his voice. "Yeah, that's who Yuna used to get whatever pills she was on from. Chaeryeong told me back then. And Yeji hasn't exactly stopped, has she?"

Chan frowns, his expression darkening. "Hyunjin doesn't associate with her anymore, even though she's his cousin. He hates that she sells. Blames her for half the addicts on campus."

"He's not wrong," Minho mutters, eyes flicking back to Hayun. "She's probably the main supplier for students who are trying to deal with their shit."

Chan sighs, leaning back on his hands as he stares up at the ceiling. "Jeongin mentioned that Hayun only takes them when her anxiety gets bad. I guess if something terrible happened to her at a party, like we think, then going to an outside rave like the one you guys just came from would definitely trigger that anxiety to spike."

Minho looks at him, clearly confused. "Then why would she go in the first place? Why put herself in that situation?"

Chan shrugs, his face softening with a kind of understanding. "She's a university student. She's young, she wants to fit in. And when you find something that helps you cope, even if it's destructive, it's hard to let go of it. Her way of dealing with her anxiety is using those pills, even if it's fucked up."

Minho's jaw clenches at that, frustration boiling under the surface. "Mingi's connected to all this, Chan. I just know it. He was always glued to Yuna at parties because Lia rarely went. She only ever showed up when she took Jisung and Hayun with her. Chaeryeong told me that."

Chan leans forward, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "What the hell was Lia thinking, taking two fourteen-year-olds to those calamity parties? That's insane."

Minho shakes his head. "I don't know. I don't know any of them well enough to ask about it. I mean, I only met Hayun last month, and I've barely scraped the surface of what's going on with her."

Chan sighs again, rubbing his temples. "I've known Jisung since we were both ten, but Hayun never really hung around when Changbin and I were with him. From what Jisung told us, she's had a shitty life. Bounced around in the foster system. Her mom was in and out of her life—a heroin addict. Hayun never had it easy."

Minho's face softens for a second, understanding but not entirely surprised. "That explains... a lot."

"Yeah," Chan continues, "Jisung always looked out for her, but there's only so much he could do. She built her walls high. I'm sure there's a lot of shit she's never even told him."

Minho glances at Chan, his curiosity piqued. "What's the deal between you, Changbin, and Jisung? Changbin hates his guts, and I never got why."

Chan looks slightly uncomfortable but decides to explain anyway. "I don't have a problem with Jisung, personally. But Changbin? It's complicated. Just before we got signed with JYPE a few months ago, 2RACHA was supposed to be 3RACHA. Jisung was supposed to split his time between the podcast and recording albums with us. But out of nowhere, he quit. Dropped his music production minor and chose to focus solely on the podcast."

Minho's eyebrows furrow. "That's why Changbin's so pissed?"

Chan nods. "Yeah. Jisung helped us produce our first album—he gets royalties from it, and he's featured on a few songs. But Changbin felt betrayed because it had always been our dream to be a trio, signed to some big label. And right when that dream was about to come true, Jisung bailed. It hit Changbin harder than anyone expected."

Minho tilts his head slightly. "So, it wasn't just about the money or the music, then?"

"It was more about the betrayal. We'd been a team for so long, and for Changbin, it felt like Jisung walked out right when everything was falling into place," Chan explains. "But Jisung... well, he's always been unpredictable. And, to be fair, the podcast is massive now."

Minho stays silent for a moment, processing everything. He looks down at Hayun, who's still sleeping, and his mind races with a million questions. Between Mingi's looming presence in their investigation, Hayun's hidden past, and now the tangled relationships between his own friends and Jisung, it feels like everything is slowly unraveling.

"We're all wrapped up in something, aren't we?" Minho finally says, his voice low.

Chan lets out a dry laugh. "Yeah. Welcome to life, I guess. Everyone's got their shit to deal with."

Minho sighs. "I just hope we can figure this out before it gets worse. Whatever happened five years ago... it's not over."

Chan nods, his gaze fixed on Hayun. "No, it's not." He hesitates, then adds, "And I have a feeling when the truth comes out, it's going to wreck more than a few people."

Minho doesn't respond, but the knot in his stomach tells him Chan is probably right.

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount

[hueseok]

( 01. ) GOOD GRACES.

kim seokjin doesn’t believe in luck. he’s someone who knows that in order to have good things coming your way, you have to work damn hard for it. however, that might not be the case when it comes to bad luck, because after a video of him goes viral wherein it looks like he’s screaming at someone’s grandma, he begins thinking maybe luck does exist—and it just so happens that he’s now being subjected to a lot of unluckiness.

he’s being cancelled. his career is getting destroyed. his manager is forcing him to take a hiatus. and on top of that, as if things could not get worse, the only hope he has on redeeming everything he worked hard on depends on you, the director’s daughter of the theater show that could propel him back to where he used to be.

that should have been a piece of cake. if only you weren’t his ex who he dumped via phone call and got threatened by to never show his face to ever again...

pairing: seokjin x reader

word count: 4.2k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, humor, exes to enemies to friends to lovers au | ft. theater actor!seokjin + himbo energy!seokjin lmao, podcaster!reader + nepo baby!reader

warning/s: lots of swearing | lots of internal monologue by seokjin? lmao

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 01. there are worse things i could do !

seokjin never thought that the downfall of his career would happen because of a misconstrued video of him going viral where he was apparently yelling at a poor old lady in a grocery store.

but here he is, getting canceled on twitter and being informed by his manager that he was taken off the projects he was scheduled to do for the upcoming year, the brands who were once so keen on getting him on board suddenly backtracking and terminating the previously signed deals that were already discussed.

regardless of how he tried convincing yikyung, the said manager, that he wasn’t actually fighting the woman who was probably the same age as his grandmother on that short clip—and that all of this was just a stupid a misunderstanding, he’s told it’s too late. the public already made up their mind; they all hated him, and there were several gossip blogs publishing articles that had ‘receipts’ of his apparent bad and diva behavior over the span of his career.

“look, namjoon and I are working on it,” yikyung says, explaining that the PR and legal team are already in the midst of taking care of the whole problem. “but for the meantime, the best you can do is lay low for a while, buddy.”

“what?” seokjin exclaims. “are you saying—”

“you’ll be going on a hiatus.”

“hiatus,” he repeats, enunciating every syllable like he heard it wrong. he feels like he’s going to vomit, the whole room he’s in right now spinning before his eyes.

“yes. hiatus.”

god, seokjin hates that word. he’s been working his ass off since he knew how to act and sing and was the absolute fucking best at it. and now they’re putting him on a hiatus? it’s ridiculous. it’s unfair! he isn’t in some kind of boyband or anything, but he’s pretty sure that they use that term to sugarcoat the fact that the members are quitting the industry or going solo which doesn’t make sense for him so the former category is probably more applicable to his situation at the moment and—

“it’s temporary,” yikyung continues speaking, as if reading what’s going in his mind. “at most, it’ll be a year.”

that still doesn’t calm seokjin down. “you’re benching me for a year?”

“at most.”

“does it really have to be that long?”

“yeah, if we see that it’s necessary enough.”

“i don’t think a year is necessary.”

“we don’t know that yet.”

“but if you keep me away from the public that long… it's going to kill my career!”

yikyung gives him a pitiful look. “it's already dead, jin. let’s be real here.”

he gasps, genuinely offended that his manager would say such a thing. “take that back.”

“look, i’m not happy with this either,” yikyung says, “but the public needs to forget that video. It’s what everybody is talking about, it’s what every director or sponsor that’s asking us about too—nobody would want to associate themselves with your name anyway while the story’s fresh, so this hiatus won’t kill it. doing this hiatus will just induce your career into a coma. you’ll be like sleeping beauty.”

“then who’ll be the fucking prince?”

“a mindblowing project that’ll remind people that you’re the best leading man in the theater world.”

seokjin lets that sink in.

just days ago, he was being blasted with offers to do commercials and new productions due to the successful run of chicago where he portrayed billy flynn. A lot of columns praised his versatility, saying that despite reservations on how he was going to perform, he nailed the part and captured the audience’s hearts with how he made that character his own. it was the biggest ego boost he had in a while considering he was so passionate in bringing billy flynn to life and pulling off the long note he had in we both reached for the gun—now though? all the happiness that he felt before? all the acclaim he reckoned could last him a good few months to stay motivated in doing this? it’s being buried to the ground; he feels as if everything is crashing down and every good thing in his life is fading away.

guess it’s true that being too happy can cause too much sadness after.

“a year goes by so fast, you know,” yikyung tells him. “keep yourself busy. pursue other hobbies. the next time i’ll call you, i’ll make sure it’s about an offer that’ll jolt your career awake again.”

and so with no other choice, really… that’s what seokjin did.

he decides to follow yikyung’s advice and take a train back to his hometown with the plan to help his aunt run the small grocery business she had, residing there until circumstances appear better for him. he figures this break might be better than he thinks, taking into account the fact that he’s been working nonstop since he began landing solid roles years ago. maybe a restart is what he needs; maybe he can use this as an excuse to do other stuff and pursue other hobbies like he was suggested to do.

in the first month of his forced hiatus, he becomes some kind of apprentice at his aunt’s mentioned grocery store. he meets taehyung, a young man who looks way too handsome to be only arranging packed and canned goods in the aisles of the shop as another helper of his aunt; taehyung also apparently recognizes him, asking if he’s that “theater star harassing an old lady” he kept on seeing on tiktok which seokjin’s always quick to correct. taehyung never looks convinced though, regardless of how much seokjin explains, but he at least doesn’t treat him shit for some groundless scandal.

then in his second month, he begins to try pottery. there are classes for it in the same town, a 10-minute drive away and the instructor happens to be a family friend. however, after five sessions, he realizes that he’s horrible at the task and can’t produce anything that’s worth selling or admiring even. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it though, ‘cause he does, and he still attends each class or goes on his own for the following months to use this activity as catharsis.

for the third month, he starts painting; on the fourth, he volunteers to walk the golden retriever that an elderly couple neighbor has; when the fifth month comes, he begins jogging around the area, continuing that until the sixth and seventh as he progresses to running—and then on the eight month, while he’s tending to the crops he’s growing at his aunt’s backyard, he finally gets the call from yikyung that he always pretends not to care about.

hurriedly taking off his gloves that are covered with mud, he picks up his phone from the table and answers his agent’s call. “please tell me you have something,” is what he says, not even concealing the desperation in his voice.

“i have something,” yikyung confirms, sounding excited.

“holy fuck,” he whispers to himself. he’s pacing around now, thrilled and anxious, praying to the gods of every religion that this will be a good offer. “what is it? tell me quickly.”

“they’re doing grease,” he says and seokjin does an impromptu super mario impression, just jumping all over the place because of the mention of the famous musical, the kind of musical that he knows would definitely benefit him if he wants to be within everybody’s radar again. “they already have a sandy young—it’s the producer’s niece—so now all they’re looking for is the rest of the cast. I already got you an audition for danny zuko and it’s two weeks from now.”

“god, i fucking love you, yikyung.”

“i’m amazing, aren’t I?”

“the best. you’re a goddamn gift from above.”

“and it hasn’t even been a year,” yikyung proudly points out. “you’ll be absolutely back on your feet after this project. your scandal has died down, anyway. not a lot are talking about it, and some of your fans are getting better at defending you, sharing encounter stories of their own to support the claim that you aren’t a dick who has a fetish in getting into a bickering war with an old woman.”

seokjin rolls his eyes. “never describe it that way to me again.”

yikyung chuckles. “i’ll hire a cleaning lady to clean your apartment here in the city maybe this weekend. when do you think you’ll arrive?”

“some time after the weekend. i’ll have to take care of a few things before i go.”

“like what?”

“well, believe it or not, i actually made some friends here.”

“damn. i told you this hiatus was going to be good for you.”

“yeah, you are right about that. i think it was healing for some reason. aside from the first weeks of me being depressed as fuck.”

“so, what does that mean? does this mean that you think you’ll nail the audition?”

seokjin grins. he isn’t cocky for nothing. even though it was advised to him before to lower it down a bit so that he wouldn’t come across as a complete ass, he knows he’s great at this pursuit of his. he’s charming, he has an amazing voice, and he can pull off any choreography instructed to him regardless of his initial lack of dancing abilities. being a hard worker makes you that way, and it’s what seokjin thinks will always help him in every endeavor he runs after.

“you bet, i will.”

“how’s your voice? your joints? do you need to warm up?”

“i’ve been singing for the community here every tuesday and thursday. i also haven’t been physically inactive like you think i am. i’ve been exercising regularly, improving my stamina and all that shit.”

yikyung doesn’t answer for a few seconds, a silence that seokjin translates into his manager being impressed that he hasn’t let go of himself despite the circumstances.

after a few more clarifications and reminders, the call ends and seokjin flops down on the wooden chair close to him, this goofy and giddy smile erupting on his face. it doesn’t occur to him until this moment that he’s been wishing for a miracle like this to come along because he’s been missing performing on stage like he used to do during shows and even when he’s in dance studios for the rehearsals. yeah, having a reason to take a break was nice too as he expressed, but nothing beats doing what he loves to do.

and playing danny zuko? wow, talk about a huge upgrade from being mandated by his management to disappear from the public to potentially being cast as one of john travolta’s famous roles. of course, the challenge with this is that he has to make sure that he actually gets the role, which he’s optimistic that he’ll be fine with.

his reputation may be questionable once he comes back, but there’s no denying that if there’s anyone who can emanate an arrogant greaser who cares too much about his image—it’s him.

****

seokjin’s aunt was devastated when she discovered that he’s leaving. she tried to persuade him to stay longer (if not for her, for the plants and the grocery store—and maybe the crowd of people he would sing for whenever there was an occasion in the neighborhood). however, regardless of her insistence, seokjin cannot be budged; he’s been waiting far too long for this to have second thoughts about it, to be swayed from this provincial life he has come to love and genuinely enjoy.

“are you coming back?” taehyung asked him when the news of seokjin’s immediate departure got to him too. “because if you aren’t, can I have your bike?”

seokjin rolled his eyes. over the course of his stay, taehyung has become some sort of little brother he never had. “i’m coming back. just to visit though,” he said. “so you can have my bike.”

on the weekend before he left, he spent time with the people he befriended. he arranged a bingo session with the elderly; he ran laps with that golden retriever he took on walks every morning; he did his last piece of pottery with the instructor he also became friends with; then, on his very last night, he shared a few drinks with his aunt and taehyung, promising them that if he gets the part, they’ll have front row tickets to the show.

if not, he’ll jump off the bridge because he doesn’t think he has a face to show to anyone anymore. 

he earned a slap on the arm by his aunt with that one.

everything went smoothly when he came back to his old apartment the following morning, freshly cleaned like yikyung promised. nonetheless, seokjin felt it was necessary to check every nook and cranny of the place to verify that, even going as far as examining the decorations, memorabilia, and picture frames he had on display, his finger being swiped on the most random areas to make sure that every corner was polished. nobody lived here for eight months in his defense, and he really could catch a bad case of allergic rhinitis in the case yikyung was lying. he couldn’t have that. he had his voice to take care of; there shouldn’t be snot or phlegm getting in the way of the full prowess of his vocals.

for the next few days leading up to the audition, he did everything he can to assure that he’ll be in his best state when his time to shine comes. he practiced the song sandy, a solo piece sung by danny zuko, and rehearsed the lines for the scene where danny and sandy first meet again at rydell high.

in those hours he spent talking to himself, warming up his voice, making sure that he shaped his words right and exuded the energy of the greaser he’s aiming to play, he started thinking again that he seriously got a huge chance in landing this role. he’s superb at acting; he’s certain that he has the voice needed for this part; and not to mention that he’s got the looks for it, alright. his handsomeness is certainly one of the aspects that makes him so marketable as an actor.

plus, he manages to get a positive outlook regarding this because yikyung has been great in encouraging him, sending him inspirational quotes that sometimes were borderline annoying because it had nothing to do with his situation but still touching in a way.

like right now, as seokjin waits in the holding room of the theater for the audition, he receives a message from his manager with a GIF of a maneki-neko with an oversized arm and the quote by dr. seuss saying, “you have brains in your head. you have feet in your shoes. you can steer yourself any direction you choose. you're on your own. and you know what you know. and you are the guy who'll decide where to go”.

it is a little aligned to what he’s going through right now but seokjin can’t help but still grimace in distaste.

“kim seokjin?” the casting assistant calls, and he snaps his head up from the screen of his phone to peer at the person who called him.

he stands, gaining the attention of the casting assistant. “here.”

“great. follow me please.” she smiles and begins walking to where the stage is without checking whether seokjin followed her or not. 

he does, as quickly as possible, thankful because he can finally get away from that enclosed space with fellow auditionees who were either gaping at him or chatting him up, asking about the hiatus he did. he’s smart enough not to give any specific details, instead saying the standard “mental health break” or “sabbatical leave” that they seemed to buy.

walking across the stage, his eyes squint a bit at the spotlight directed to him. then, stopping at the center, he averts his gaze to the two people who are sitting on the front row seats. hyunbin park the director and seungjoon ahn the producer. they both appear serious, like they’re bored, or like they’ve been unimpressed by the roster of auditionees they’ve been having so far.

it creates a spark of hope for seokjin who’s confident that he might just be the person that’ll blow their minds for today. even though this is his first time performing in front of a professional again, he’s learned over the years to trust his skills more, and he knows that he’s definitely adept for the tryout happening at the moment.

“kim seokjin, isn’t it?” mr. Park says. he’s the more intimidating one out of the pair. he’s famous for having directed a lot of shows that got to win several trophies in every award giving body that catered to the theater industry. aside from this production being an anticipated project of his, he’s scheduled to direct a movie with a star-studded cast.

seokjin nods. “yes, that’s me.”

“wait a minute, i know you,” says mr. ahn, an index finger pointed towards him. this man doesn’t look that much older than seokjin. give or take about only five years his senior. “i’ve seen you somewhere. where have i seen you?”

seokjin swallows hard. fuck, fuck, fuck. kill me now. bury me in the ground. shit. i hope he doesn’t realize that i'm—

“ah! i remember.” mr. ahn laughs, turning to mr. park. “isn’t he the guy who played corny collins three years ago or something?”

a huge breath of relief escapes seokjin.

mr. park nods unsurely. “yeah, I think so. did you play corny collins, son?” he asks.

“i did.”

their faces significantly brightened.

“well, i’m looking forward to your audition, seokjin,” mr. ahn says. “i watched the media preview of hairspray back then. i was a great friend of jiyong.”

jiyong was the director of the said show.

“you may begin,” mr. park adds, gesturing for him to go ahead before readjusting the glasses he’s wearing. “break a leg.”

seokjin flashes a dazzling smile and begins.

****

yikyung: how was it? yikyung: the audition should be over by now. yikyung: tell me how you did! yikyung: i’ll be like this for the whole day until you reply. yikyung:

seokjin: do you think sending gifs is cool? seokjin: bc it’s not

yikyung: you didn’t answer my question?

seokjin can’t stop grinning. he’s had this grin since he finished the audition and walked out to the lobby, his mind replaying the events that took place during his performance and the reactions of the director and producer after he was done.

even though the two didn’t make their verdict apparent, seokjin had a feeling that he was going to get cast in this show for the reason that as soon as he finished belting the last line of the song sandy, mr. park and mr. ahn shared a look with one another, their eyebrows raising in what comes across like understanding.

now, quick disclaimer, seokjin doesn’t read minds, but he’s pretty sure that that’s a good sign. he’s done his fair share of auditions and seeing an interaction like that from people who are in charge of casting always raises the chances that he’ll end up in the project. it’s a really big tell from what he thinks—and it’s what’s prompting him to almost skip like a little girl while walking to the café nearby where he’s planning to treat himself with the mouthwatering strawberry cream croissant he saw on their display earlier, nothing in his mind other than fantasies of receiving a call as soon as he gets home confirming he got the part.

maybe i should start incorporating black leather jackets into my wardrobe more… it is what danny zuko wears half of the time in the film and since i’ll be danny zuko, it can be some kind of way i’ll be able to internalize the character and be fucking amazing in this…

clearly, doing an inner monologue isn’t advisable when you’re walking along a busy street filled with people who are obviously in a rush to get to where they’re going.

because as he continues marching forward, taking a quick turn to the café he’s aiming to go to, his thoughts everywhere aside from the path he’s strolling on—his arm bumps against someone’s shoulder, ceasing his daydreaming and causing him to glance back, about to utter a quick apology if it wasn’t for the sight that greets him when he does.

he wrinkles his forehead, gazing at you.

there’s no doubt in his mind that it really is you who he’s looking at, but due to the fact that it’s been approximately 9 years since you last saw each other, seokjin asks himself whether this is legit or is his imagination taking a sinister route and letting him imagine how it would be like to meet the person he doesn’t want to see on a perfect day.

“well, shit,” you say, staring at him with the same surprised yet puzzled expression. your features look more mature, your hair is styled in a different way, your choice of clothes is more sophisticated—yet despite the subtle changes, you’re still as attractive as you were when he last got to see you. he might even dare to think that your attractiveness leveled up as well. “i’ll be damned. it’s you.”

seokjin feels his throat closing up, reality sinking in that you’re really here in front of him. “____?”

“i’m flattered that you remember.” you chuckle. “or that you’re not pretending to have amnesia to escape this conversation at least.”

to be fair, if it registered to him a few seconds earlier on who you are, he might have done exactly that.

but of course he doesn’t admit it. his ears just turn red while he utters a lie. “that’d be silly. it’s not like you’d believe me if i said that.”

“touché. but i still reckon you’d do it. you are an actor.” a smirk makes its way to your lips. “how’s that going, by the way? last time i heard, you’re being murdered on twitter and being called a world class asshole.”

he winces slightly. “that’s an exaggeration.”

“i don’t think so. you are on hiatus because of it, aren’t you?”

“not anymore.”

“oh?”

“you seem disappointed,” he retorts. “then again, i wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been praying for my downfall ever since you-know-what happened.”

“you-know-what? do you mean when you dumped me?” you explicitly say, not even missing a beat after he was done speaking.

yes, you’re an ex-girlfriend. sadly, an ex-girlfriend he knows he didn’t treat well because of what you just reminded him of.

he presses his lips together, gathering all the confidence he has left. “yes. i do mean that. and i am sorry about it. truly.”

“you dumped me over the phone.”

“i’m aware of that too.”

“you didn’t explain why you wanted to break up.”

a pause. “yes, i didn’t.”

“and just because we coincidentally met again after so many years, you finally apologize?”

“that’s about right.”

“it doesn’t sound very sincere to me.”

he widens his eyes, surprised that you’re not letting this go as easily as he thought you would. from what he remembers, you’re the type of person who doesn’t hold grudges; you’re the type of person that everybody would say was genuinely good. in fact, it’s what he was mad about years back when you were still together—how you often let other people take advantage of your kindness, often putting you in a position of being a doormat or an emotional punching bag.

but that’s almost a decade ago. he feels bad that he’s not sure whether to be proud of you or to be a bit frustrated that he’s on the receiving end of this.

“anyways,” you add after the excruciating awkward silence, “as much as i want to give you a piece of my mind, i have to go. i’d say it was nice seeing you and that we should catch up sometime, jin, but that would be a lie.”

seokjin’s supposed to let you go despite his conscience eating him up. he’s not entirely stupid, it’s apparent that it’s better not to reopen healed wounds, and judging from the manner you spoke to him, you don’t want to give him an opening to enter your life again.

but then your phone rings, which you’re holding on one hand while the other holds a paper bag from the coffeeshop. And then, seokjin sees it—sees mr. park’s face on the screen with a caller ID named ‘dad’, that he can’t prevent himself from staying still and allowing you to leave without explaining what he’s witnessing right now.

“wait,” he holds your elbow as you’re trying to walk past him, “your dad isn’t mr. park, is he? i know your dad. He’s not hyunbin park.”

you blink at him, confused at the random question, however a wave of understanding swiftly washes over you. he watches you grin all of the sudden, eyes twinkling in amusement. he’s familiar with that expression, and it’s scaring him to death because he now has a pretty good idea on what your answer is going to be.

“you’re here in the city because of an audition,” you state, tone so sure that it makes him sweat. “don’t tell me… You’re auditioning for grease?”

he doesn’t tell you he’s auditioning for grease.

your grin widens even further, your next sentence inducing a sensation that might be a heart attack.

“then you’ve met dad. he is hyunbin park, the director.”

fuckity fuck fUCK FUCK!

note. AHHH first chapter is out! i hope y’all like this because i’m happy with how this turned out hehe. this drabble series will only have 10 episodes and i’m gonna pray that i get to finish this before the year 2024 ends 😭

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

A list of things I personally think are possible with the way the three shows I watch (SaMS, EaLS, MGaFS) are going.

Lunar gets so angry at Moon that his powers lash out and Moon gets massively hurt.

Ruin gets into genuine trouble and nobody believes he actually needs help because Moon convinces them it’s a trick to get out of the system scrub.

Lunar has a breakdown.

Whoever made Eclipse kills Sun as a ‘warning’ for Moon and Eclipse not to mess with them.

Earth and Monty’s inevitable wedding hopefully. Preferably with Monty wearing a wedding a big puffy ball skirt with a tux top.

Moon has a breakdown.

Solar having something bad happen to him because he’s now living alone in the daycare.

Jack O Moon becomes Lunar’s wingman with Gemini.

Eclipse has a breakdown.

Monty kidnaps Eclipse for the Puppet and Monty Podcast.

Foxy legally adopts Frank.

Ruin has a breakdown.

Gemini kills Eclipse and the motherfucker respawns not even two days later probably.

Sun goes to actual therapy and cries.

Solar has a breakdown.

Eclipse gets therapy.

Ruin gets therapy.

We actually have a character address the fact that New Moon has created a sense of having to over-villainize Old Moon just because he doesn’t want people to compare them and the fact that Sun never got to grieve Old Moon.

I have a breakdown.

Someone gets put in time out. Probably Moon.

[st-just]

ive seeeen you mention listening to history podcasts before, are there any that youd recommend? I have looked at whats out there but a lot of the popular ones I saw seemed to be rather dubious if you get me

So an assortment off the top of my head

Mike Duncan's stuff is both generally very good and also the inspiration of 90% of the history podcasts I listen to, so useful for cultural literacy if nothing else. (He podcasted his way into being a bona fide public intellectual for a moment there!) History of Rome is exactly what it sounds like, a narrative history from the mythical foundation of the city to the fall of the Western Empire (getting much more detailed and in depth as it gets into the imperial era). Revolutions is an anthology on what can be called the great revolutions of the modern western world, with series on the English, American, French, Haitian, Spanish American, German/Italian/French again (1848), French round three (Paris commune), Mexican and Russian (also includes a semester-length intellectual history of 19th C europepan leftism) revolutions. First two series are fine but it really gets good with the French Revolution and the Haiti series is some of the best pop history I've listened to or read. Also doubles as just a decent history of the long 19th century in Europe.

Tides of History is the only one of this list that feels like it has an actual production budget and more than one person working on it as part of their actual job. The host is the other guy whose podcasted himself into being a bit of a public intellectual (would rec his substack!) The downside of having a budget is most of the older stuff being locked behind a paywall, which is a shame because the early seasons are some of the best approachable history on the late medieval and early early modern period in Europe I've heard or seen. The current season is about the late bronze age world, and continues to be excellent.

History of Byzantium is explicitly an attempt to pick off where Duncan left off and follow the Eastern Roman empire from the fall of the west to 1452 (it's still in progress, now well into the 13th century). Also much like History of Rome, it starts off fairly general and vague but gets much more detailed as it goes. The general narrative history is intercut with semi-regular interviews with academic historians about the subject of their expertise for more in depth and probably rigorous discussion.

Speaking of Byzantium and Friends is hosted by one of the more prominent working byzantinists and consists of absolutely nothing but that. Much, much more academic - there's a level of assumed background knowledge to get much of anything out of the episodes, and and a level of academic inside baseball, but accurcy-wise this is the podcast I trust most out of all of them.

History of Japan is, again, what it sounds like. One of many podcasts begun by a grad student probably procrastinating working on his thesis that has lasted long enough for him to graduate, get married, and settle into a full time job. Vast majority of episodes are 20-30-minute mini-histories on, say, the biography of a particular political figure or part of a mini-series on the spread of Buddhism or something (plus a few much, much longer series on e.g. the Meiji Restoration). Currently in the middle of remaking/expanding a series that's a general high-level survey of Japanese history to celebrate hitting episode 500.

Criminal Records shares a host with it, but is (intentionally) less rigorous and much more bantery (having two hosts helps, them being married presumably good for the chemistry), also technically a true crime podcast - specifically about weird crimes and legal cases throughout history. My favorite episode is the one on the oldest surviving court case in the record from ancient Sumeria.

The History of the Crusades and it's sequel Reconquista continue the trend of admirably self-explaining names. They're nearly-entirely narrative and political histories, so if you're not interested in crowns, marriages and wars probably give them a pass, but very granular and detailed as they go. Crusades finished after the fall of Jerusalem and then a follow-up about the Albigensian Crusade, Reconquista currently still ongoing (in the 11th century at the moment, I believe).

Pax Brittancia is the one I just finished binging as depression-ameliorating background noise and what I've been posting about recently. Another begun by a grad student avoiding their thesis who has since become a doctor (who had previously completed a podcast on the history of witchcraft, which I have not listened to). It's ostensibly a history of the British Empire, beginning with the Stuart Dynasty (and personal union with Scotland) and moving forward with sufficent attention to detail that after five years and change it's objectively just a very in depth history of the Wars of Three Kingdoms (incl. causes and aftermath). Includes many, many interviews with established historians, including a whole series on Covenanter Scotland and whether its rise should be considered a Scottish Revolution. The narrative just reached Cromwell's inauguration as Lord Protector.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Ur writing is so easy to dive into I desperately need more!!! Is there more???? What happens to this awful wet cat of a woman next?????????????

uuuh. this.

in reference to this, for anyone who finds this just incomprehensible.

It turned out that she wasn't going to be left alone to rot in peace.

It turned out that she wasn't going to be left alone to rot in peace.

On Jessie’s disgustingly cheerful, rainbow-spangled doormat (an impulse purchase from a previous June that currently pissed her off every time she looked at it) a cupcake, a birthday card, and a note torn from a yellow legal pad were waiting for her.

The cupcake was chocolate topped with a mountain of blue buttercream frosting and edible glitter, and if Jessie's day kept going this badly it was probably going to end up being her dinner.

The card, also coated in glitter, wished her a happy birthday and was signed with a flourish from Uncle Ray. Ray wasn’t related to her in any biological sense of the word, but he’d been a friend of Jessie’s father since before Jessie was born, and that had to count for something. It was like her brother always said: family wasn’t about who you were related to, it was about who was there for you.

Uncle Ray was also, unfortunately, the owner of the building Jessie currently lived in and therefore her landlord, which was currently counting for way too much.

On the note he’d left her a hurried, shaky-handed explanation: he was sorry to miss her, hoped she was having fun on her birthday, and as a gift he’d be waiving May’s rent, which they both knew perfectly well was extremely overdue. However, he warned, he expected the money for June right on time at the start of the month, and if she failed to deliver they were going to need to have a very serious talk about Jessie’s status as a tenant moving forward.

And then, because Uncle Ray was Uncle Ray, he’d given her a little wiggle room: a PS, informing her that Mrs. Hoang said her dishwasher was acting up again, and that he’d happily credit the repair towards Jessie’s account if it meant he didn’t have to call in his idiotic repairman. Jessie didn’t understand for the life of her the psychological warfare that was going on between the two of them, or why Ray didn’t just fire the poor dunce if he hated him so much, but she wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to get paid for hanging out with Mrs. Hoang. Jessie loved old people, and Mrs. Hoang was a hoot. 

She pretended not to see the second maintenance job he offered her, fixing up a dryer and a washer in the basement that had both started spitting people’s quarters back out at them when they were done running. It had taken Jessie a long time to figure out how to make them do that, and she wasn’t one to foul up her own handiwork. 

Alright. Alright. This wasn't good, exactly, but she had somewhere to start, something to keep her occupied instead of completely falling apart. If she didn't give herself a little task right this second she would probably do what she had been doing for days at a time ever since Jonas left: wallowing in her own misery, eating weed gummies and jacking off, listening to true crime podcasts and shopping online until it was time to microwave something for dinner. If the morons in the Brig could see her like that they would cream their standard issue sweatpants. She decided to implement a new rule of personal conduct: whenever she found herself doing something that would make Whirligig feel like she was winning their friend breakup, Jessie had to cut that shit out immediately.

With that in mind, Jessie dragged herself to the bathroom to shower off the morning’s disgrace and wash her hair for the first time in, arguably, too many days. When the hot water ran out, something that she would be holding her uncle accountable for, she toweled off and crawled into a ratty tank top and snowflake-patterned pajama pants. A laundry day outfit for sure, but a.) it actually was laundry day, thank you very much, and b.) she deserved some time in soft clothing after spending the night packed into her catsuit like a can of spam. Then came the first of several trips up and down too many flights of stairs, because despite the criminal lack of an elevator Jessie was determined to throw all of her heaps of laundry into the wash at once. It was sort of a dick move, monopolizing all the washers like that, but she couldn’t wait around all day and her neighbors would forgive her when they realized that all of the machines would spit their change back out now. What, like Jessie had enough quarters for that many loads of laundry? In this economy?

Then she shuffled to the second floor to see Mrs. Hoang, who didn’t care that she was in pajamas and insisted that Jessie stay to have some soup before she started fiddling with the dishwasher. It was a damn good soup, extra spicy bún bò that filled her up so well that she was glad she’d neglected to eat her cupcake. Jessie ate it without saying much, offering a sympathetic ear and supportive scoffs while Mrs. Hoang talked about the convoluted feuds she kept up with various shopkeepers and other elderly women in the neighborhood.

As usual Mrs. Hoang left the TV on while she talked, the news turned down to almost nothing. She hardly seemed to notice it was on, but Jessie’s eye was caught when the puff pieces dissolved into a scene from downtown earlier that day. Nothing too shocking, by Rustbelt’s standards: Ricochet, red and self-righteous, duking it out with some new nobody on the scene, disrupting downtown traffic earlier that afternoon. Jessie ran the numbers, and figured this must have taken place not long at all after she was ingloriously dispatched from N.E.X.T. Had Ric already known? Was that why she was in such a hurry to send Jessie packing? It was nice to imagine there was a reason rather than her archenemy being an asshole, but she knew it was more likely the latter. 

In any case, the new kid hardly seemed like he was worth it. Sure, he was putting on a show. Whatever his trick was, he managed to shatter every pane of glass out of the sparkling facade of the Van Houten Charitable Foundation, a window virtually made of buildings, and send the shards surging across Central Square straight at Ricochet. She was fine, of course, boinging away to safety like the world’s bitchiest little frog, but the cars and businesses around her were definitely going to need some TLC. Hopefully they had powers insurance; you’d have to be a fool to live in Rustbelt without it. And this was a crystal clear claim, in Jessie’s inexpert opinion, caught on camera from multiple angles and everything.

But the actual so-called villain? Pathetic. Amateur hour. Nobody knew his name, for one, because he hadn’t bothered to announce himself, so the chyron at the bottom of the screen could only refer to him as “mystery criminal.” Hardly inspiring stuff; nobody was going to be shelling out for merch of Mystery Criminal. And he hadn’t even bothered to get a decent outfit together, instead showing up in ratty black skinny jeans and a green hoodie like he was fresh off a shift at Hot Topic. He was wearing a backpack, for fucks sake! The only points Jessie would give him were for the fact that he’d at least had the presence of mind to keep the hood up, which was concealing his face to an impressive degree. None of the security cameras or cell phone footage seemed to have gotten a clear look at his face, so at least that was something.

Still, she wasn’t impressed.

“I can’t stand it when these wannabes come crawling out of the woodwork with no direction, no goals, no panache, no nothing,” she said to Mrs. Hoang. “Like, you’re not a villain just because you have powers. If you’re not going to put any artistry into it, you might as well just put your hand in your pocket to pretend you have a gun and go rob a 7/11.”

“Well, not everyone can be as professional as you. You’ve got the passion for it, more than anybody I’ve ever met in my life.” Mrs. Hoang said from beside the kitchen window, where she was on her second cigarette and blowing smoke rings. She was a pack a day kind of broad with a voice to match, and Jessie admired the old-school panache even if she shuddered to imagine the state of Mrs. Hoang’s lungs.

The compliment made her blush. “Thank you. You really mean that?”

Mrs. Hoang shrugged. “I’ve met every type of criminal they make, right? And nobody’s having more fun than you. There are kingpins living in palaces on their own tropical islands who don’t like what they do as much as you do. I think you’re made for this.”

“God, thank you. I’ve been kind of, like, second-guessing myself lately.”

“What? Since when?”

“I don’t know. Like, this morning?”

Jessie gave Mrs. Hoang the abridged version, leaving out details here and there that made her seem extra pathetic—namely, the thing about Ricochet’s secret identity. Jessie didn’t mind painting herself as a victim of N.E.X.T.’s bullying, but she didn’t want to implicate Jonas in anything. The two of them had to present a united front always; that was one of their rules. Still, she was pretty sure she got across exactly how fucked she was, which was why it surprised her when Mrs. Hoang simply shrugged her bony shoulders again.

“You’ll figure it out,” she proclaimed.

“Yeah but, like, how?”

“Well, that part’s not my job. What, you think I’m going to train you? You think I’m trying to be your fucking Mr. Miyagi?” Mrs. Hoang cackled so hard at her own joke that she made herself cough, pounding her chest until she got it back together. “Look, you’re a great girl. I’d let you marry one of my grandsons.”

“You said you’d disown them if they married white people!”

“Eh, I’m getting desperate with this one. He’s a good boy, smart, but he’s got no direction. No ambition. All he does after work is go home to play his video games. I think girls scare him.” She looked at Jessie meaningfully. “He’d be an easy husband, is all I’m saying. He works in tech, makes lots of money that you could spend however you want. And a tough girl like you could really sort him out.”

“I really appreciate it, but I’m not marrying your cringefail loser grandson. That feels wrong, somehow. Like, extremely wrong. I feel like you’re trying to sell him to me.”

“See? You’re a good girl,” Mrs. Hoang said. “But you’re also an eel. That’s the point I was getting to. You’re slippery. You’ll wiggle around and bite whoever you need to so you can survive, because you have to. What else would you do? What is there for you, if not being a villain?”

That wasn’t a rhetorical question; she had a hard look to her face like she actually expected answers. So Jessie scrambled, trying to come up with anything else she might feasibly do to pay the bills.

“I mean, sales? I used to do that.”

“Where’s the last place you were a salesgirl?”

“This snooty-ass jewelry place in the mall. Mostly selling engagement rings and stuff. I kind of hated it, and they ended up firing me for, you know. Stealing an engagement ring with a big honkin’ diamond in it.” 

“You can’t work sales, girl. You love to steal.”

“Okay! But what about, like, waitressing?”

“You’ve done that before?”

“No, but I know how restaurants work. I can hold things. I’m good with people. How hard can it be?”

Mrs. Hoang waved her cigarette scoldingly in Jessie’s direction. “First of all, you apologize to waitresses. That’s skilled work. You can hold things, but what are you going to  do when some tight-ass starts yelling at you for not bringing her shitty kid enough chicken strips? And your feet hurt, and half your dipshit coworkers didn't show up for shift, the head cook is on meth, and nobody's tipping worth shit?”

Jessie tried and failed a few times to come up with what was probably the right answer, and ultimately landed on something a lot closer to the truth. “I don’t know, call in a bomb threat and go home early? Jesus Christ, that sounds like a nightmare.”

“Apologize to waitresses!”

“Sorry, waitresses.” She rolled something around in her mouth, unsure if she should say it at all, then figured it couldn’t hurt to dig herself in a little deeper. “There’s this other place that’s, like, super shady and hires girls who don’t even have to serve the wings, they just walk around in costumes. So like models, basically. It’s superhero themed, and they just have all these girls there to hang out dressed up as the slutty Halloween costume version of heroes and villains and stuff. I figure they might hire me on the spot if they realize who I am, because having the real Frostbite is kind of a get, right? And then I get paid to just, like, hang out with other cute girls and take pictures with people like a character at Disneyland.” Not that Jessie had ever been to Disneyland, but she gets the idea. 

“Okay, so what’s stopping you from doing that? Go apply right now.”

Jessie groaned. “But, like, I know that the first time some guy gets too grabby I’m going to break his fingers and get turbo fired. And also there’s a chance that they’ll tell me I’m too fat to play Frostbite, which is, like, you know. Obviously I’ll just have to burn the entire restaurant down, which is probably illegal.”

Mrs. Hoang nodded like this was all going about as well as she’d expected. “Anything else?”

“Well, like, I have the crafting thing, right? Like, I take some commissions and stuff. I could pivot to do that full time?”

“No. Never try to make a hobby your whole life. You’ll end up hating it.” Mrs. Hoang nodded to the soup simmering on the stove, making a face. “I like to cook. You know what happened when I tried to start a restaurant?”

“You ended up having to burn it down, change your name, and leave San Jose forever.”

“And kill my second husband.”

“You killed your… I don’t know if you’ve ever told me that part before.”

Mrs. Hoang shrugged, as if to say that sometimes second husbands had to die and there was nothing that could be done about it. “He was more of a business partner than a husband, really. Not a lot of love. Sometimes it’s the partner that’s the problem, you know what I mean?”

“I’m not killing my brother,” Jessie said flatly.

“No, no. But you don’t need him, either. You’re smart, tough, quick-thinker. Go find someone else to do crime with you. You want to hang around with pretty girls in costumes so much, go find some yourself. Every big villain I see on TV, he’s got some lay sidekick in a sparkly little outfit. Why not you?”

“I mean, those girls are all union. I can’t afford moll rates.”

“So don’t hire a professional, dumbass. Get a friend,” Mrs. Hoang said. She flicked a little ash off her cigarette derisively. “You remember how to do that?”

“Yeah,” said Jessie, who wasn’t actually sure of that at all. When was the last time she’d made a friend? There was Whirligig, which had obviously been an ass-shattering disaster. Even before it broke really bad, there had never really been a lot of love between them. Then there was Xochitl, who Jessie actually liked and had still managed to completely blow her chances with. That one was still so raw that she couldn’t even joke about it. God, why couldn’t Xo have just yelled at her like a normal person? It would be so much easier if they could just hate each other now. And she’d made a hell of an effort with Night Noir when they did that little crossover job in the fall, but all that had gotten her was the worst ghosting of her life. 

Maybe she didn’t actually know how to make a friend. Maybe she could start by finding a henchperson and figure it out from there. She didn’t really need a friend friend, right? A partner would suffice. Anyone to fill the Jonas-shaped void while Jessie figured out how to go it alone. Sure, she and her brother had been a team. But anyone could watch her back, right? That was hardly skilled labor.

“You really think I can do it? Run my own shit?” 

It was a question for herself as much as for Mrs. Hoang, one of the biggest things that had been pinning her into inaction for the past few months even as it became increasingly clear that she needed to do literally anything. The solution was obvious, really; there was no other path Jessie could take. But the prospect of figuring out how to do it all alone, of having to stand without Jonas’ support for the first time in her life, was scaring her shitless. 

Mrs. Hoang sighed. “What do you like about it? Being a villain?”

Jessie hadn’t expected another question, but this time she was immediately ready with an answer. 

“It’s fun. I mean, it’s hard and stressful and it's kind of scary, but it’s never boring. Every job is a different challenge, and I really like that. And things actually happen. At most jobs you do the same thing over and over again every day to try and keep everything the same forever, right? If you do everything right, nothing really changes. Best case scenario, some months you sell more stuff than last month. But if I do my job right I get to go home with a diamond the size of my ass cheek, because I was smart enough and tough enough and ballsy enough to take it when nobody else was. And there’s no CEO or boss or board of directors who get to take a cut or give me a bad performance review or anything. Nobody can fire me. Nobody can tell me what to do. I’m free to do whatever I want.”

She stumbled a little on the last part, because it wasn’t exactly true anymore. Ricochet very much had told her what to do, had even taken away her freeze ray to really rub it in, and Jessie had no fucking idea what she was supposed to do about that. She had spent years thinking of Ricochet like a yappy little dog, irksome but easy enough to kick away when she got too annoying. And now it turned out she wasn’t scared of Jessie and never had been, and Jessie’s head was still spinning.

Mrs. Hoang cleared her throat, snatching Jessie’s attention back. “You know how you look, when you talk about it?”

“What?”

“You talk about being a villain like you’re in love. You get this look on your face like my third husband used to get, back when we were falling in love.”

“The one in Rikers?”

“God bless him.” Mrs. Hoang crossed herself in the wrong order, cigarette trailing a smoky crucifix across her chest. “Listen to me: you look happier talking about crime than most people do talking about their own children. We all have to work until we die on this bitch of an earth, so if you can make money doing something you don’t hate, why would you let that go? Because your brother’s not around? Your brother’s a bastard. You don’t need him.”

“Hey.”

“I know you love him, but you’re a smart girl. You can love someone and know they’re a bastard. That’s my third husband, too. You’re tough. You’re a survivor. And you never take no for an answer. So why the hell are you waiting for an old woman to tell you that you can do it?”

“You’re right. Oh my god, you’re so right.” Jessie stood up, awkwardly smoothing out her pajama pants. Suddenly she was feeling hideously underdressed, embarrassed to have even gone outside of her apartment like this. She had a reputation to maintain. “Thank you so much for this. What time is it? I need to get moving. I have to get my life together.”

“Eh eh, hold on.” Mrs. Hoang snapped her fingers impatiently. “You need to fix my dishwasher first. It’s making that noise again. I can’t stand that shit.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry. Hang on.” Jessie immediately redirected that energy back into the kitchen, yanking open the dishwasher and dropping straight to the floor. “Seriously, thank you so much. I really appreciate it when you let me pick your brain like this. You don’t happen to have a cringe pushover granddaughter, do you? I’d marry her in a heartbeat.”

“Nice try. All of my granddaughters are brilliant and mean.”

“God, that’s hot.”

“I’m very proud. I’ll pack up some leftovers for you, okay? I know you’ve been sad without your bastard brother around. It’s hard to eat when you’re sad. You should have come to see me sooner, so I could feed you.”

“I’m really sorry,” Jessie told her, and meant it. “I’ve been in kind of a funk, you know? But I’m trying to shake it off now. I promise.”

That was an understatement. What remained of the afternoon passed in a blur, with Jessie cramming in as much as she could to make up for lost time. She actually put away all of her clean clothes when they were done drying instead of leaving them to rot in the laundry basket, got dressed in a proper functioning outside outfit, and styled her hair and slapped on a little eyeliner and lip gloss for good measure. Then she went to see Isaac, the sweet Zimbabwean grad student across the hall. She’d been letting him use her Wi-Fi since he moved in and had knitted him a scarf to get him through the winter, and he’d always sworn he owed her a big favor for it while Jessie swore that he didn’t owe her anything at all.

Well, the times were a-changing, and Jessie was coming to collect. 

He was surprised to see her but didn’t refuse when she asked to go to the grocery store, or ask questions when she insisted on going to the fancy one that was well outside of their neighborhood. Jessie recommended, as delicately as possible, that he stay in the car while she shopped, and if he suspected that she’d stolen every single item in her overstuffed cart then he was polite enough not to say anything about it. It was a risky move, for sure, but if Jessie had learned anything as a child it was that even the worst circumstances seemed a little better when you at least had a full pantry, and she needed to save the last of her dwindling cash for bigger and better things. 

One-Eyed Polly’s was cash-only, after all, and somehow it always came back to One-Eyed Polly’s.  

According to family legend, everything had actually started there for Jessie, specifically in the middle stall of the women’s bathroom where her mother’s water broke. Yes, her mother really was the kind of bitch who was still hanging out at the local bad guy bar shooting the shit and hustling people at pool while she was nine months pregnant. Explains some things, doesn’t it? 

Anyway, Jesie spent her childhood obsessed with the idea of the place. It was a mythical location in her little kid brain, like the White House or the North Pole. God only knew what actually went on in there, but her imagination was filling in the gaps in the most lurid way possible. Polly’s was where Dad went to find work when every other lead dried up and the family was getting desperate, their saving grace. Dad would slink off to Polly’s when the power was about to get turned off, and he’d come back flush with confidence and enough money that the family wouldn’t have to worry for a few more months.

He never told Jessie much about Polly’s when she pressed, or anything else about his work. From Jonas she had gathered that their dad, gentle and bumbling as he was, had been an enforcer once, what Jonas scathingly called dumb muscle. It made sense, physically; Jonas and Dad were built exactly alike, tall and broad and sort of looming huge no matter what they did to seem smaller. But Dad didn’t do that anymore, not in years. These days he kept his head low, mostly serving as a driver, but he still wasn’t sharing any details. 

In young Jessie’s mind Polly’s was a nightclub like the ones on cop shows, dark rooms with throbbing music where sexily-dressed people writhed through smoke and neon lights. The villains would lean up against the walls, watching the crowd with a sharp gaze until they found just what they were looking for, and then they’d smile and beckon the lucky hench who’d caught their eye. You. And the crowds would part to let the chosen one through, everyone envious of whatever trait had been enough to deem them worthy. 

Admittedly it was hard to picture her deeply uncool dad in such a setting, but it must have worked out somehow. 

She didn’t actually get to see what Polly’s was like until she was thirteen, and that was still too early as far as Jonas was concerned. Before they went in he’d given her a whole lecture in the car, his knuckles white on the steering wheel even though they were parked.

“I’m going to walk you up to the bar and have you sit with Maudie, alright? She’ll take care of you.”

“Will she make me a drink?” Jessie asked. She was avoiding looking at her brother because she didn’t want him to see how excited she was, or that she’d been experimenting with eyeliner and mascara. He wouldn’t care that she was wearing makeup, but he would want to know where she got it and he’d probably guess that she’d also been experimenting with shoplifting. Best to annoy him on purpose so he had something else to be grouchy about.

It worked perfectly, and he made a sound of deep distress like he thought she was being serious. “You can’t drink. She’ll find you a chocolate milk or something, and then you’ll hang out with her until I’m done with my meeting. Don’t talk to anybody else, okay?”

“Why not?”

“Stranger danger, Jess, come on. People are freaks in here.”

“You’re here.”

“Because I have to be, alright? I don’t like it.” Jonas rubbed his eyes, looking tired. He’d looked tired since he moved out of their parents’ house, so much that Jessie worried about his health. She swore he was starting to get gray hairs, even though he’d only just turned twenty-one.

“What am I allowed to do?”

“Have a nice conversation with Maud. Tell her about how good you’re doing in school.”

“I’m not doing good in school.”

“Then you better come up with something nice to talk about, because you’re not doing anything else. Don’t even look at anybody too much, people get twitchy if you start doing that in case you’re a snitch.”

“Am I allowed to piss?”

He looked strained, the way he always did when she swore for no reason. “Have Maudie go with you.”

“Seriously? I’m not a baby, I can go to the bathroom by myself.” Jessie couldn’t even imagine what kind of trouble he thought she would get into there. In health class they’d said that people hung out in strange bathrooms to offer kids drugs, but that seemed stupid to Jessie. She would probably take a drug if it was free, just to see what it was like, but someone giving something away for no money seemed like a stupid idea to her even though she’d gotten detention for saying it.

Anyway, Maudie wouldn’t let something like that happen in her bar.

“I know you can wipe yourself, doofus, but you’re also gonna meet someone and start talking their ear off,” Jonas was saying. “Don’t do that.”

“Gaaaaawd. Why don’t you just leave me in the car if you’re so worried about it?”

“Because that’s child abuse. Any more questions?”

She could have asked questions forever, if he’d let her, but she was getting antsy and didn’t want to make him late, so she zipped her lips and shook her head. 

Jonas steered her inside with a big hand on her shoulder, his skin a little chilly even through his stupid little driving gloves. When they stepped through the door Jessie’s hopes momentarily soared, then immediately crashed and hit the ground like a dead seagull. Where was the pounding synth and the sex appeal? This was just a boring room with worn-out furniture and a pool table and completely normal lighting shining down on a scratch-up wooden floor. The most notable features were a jukebox blasting old people rock that made Jessie think of her dad and an ashtray smell that made her think of her mom.

Her brother steered her straight back to the bar, where a graying butch was waiting with a dusty can of grape soda that had clearly been dug up from somewhere deep in the bowels of the basement.

“Heya, tyke,” Maudie said, unsmiling.

“Heya, dyke,” Jessie said, with a shit-eating grin. She swung herself up onto one of the barstools, kicking her legs eagerly. “How’s it hanging?”

“Same old.” Maud turned to Jonas, somber. “Recluse is already waiting for you in the corner.”

Jessie swiveled all the way around her stool to have a look, and was delighted to see a menacing figure occupying the big booth jammed into a corner at the back of the room. She was wearing a lengthy trench coat that was bulging in the back, with long, bristling black spider limbs poking out at angles that didn’t seem like they should work. 

“Holy shit,” Jessie said, right before her brother spun her forcibly back around to look at Maud.

“Do not,” he said. “Please. I’ll be right back.”

He patted the top of her head and left, hunching his shoulders the way he did when he wanted to look even bigger and wider. Maudie sighed, long and slow.

“How’s school, kid?”

“Stupid. I wish it was summer.” 

“Yeah? What are you going to do when school’s out?”

“I don’t know. Watch TV. Who’s Recluse?”

“Trouble. Mind your own business.”

“Why’s Jonas talking to her?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Does she owe him money?”

“How about I put this pop in a margarita glass, huh? Would that be fun for you?”

“Can I have a little paper umbrella?”

“We don’t do those here. You get the fancy glass, take it or leave it.”

“Take it.”

The grape soda tasted musty, the carbonated fizz warm on her tongue, but Jessie sipped it anyway to be polite, swirling it the way she saw women do with wine glasses on TV. Her eyes were swiveling over the glass, trying to get a look at anyone else inside without being obvious about it. There was mostly nothing to see except a lot of sad, slouchy men who looked like her dad, but over at the dartboard there was a woman that Jessie wanted to look at forever.

There were some men with her, too, but she was clearly the center of the situation. Tall and leggy (in the normal way, not like Recluse), pale and dark-haired, face filled with all kinds of exciting piercings that Jessie hadn’t previously realized were even possible. Her outfit was all black, shiny black boots and a black cropped t-shirt and tight black pants that rode low enough to show off a skeletal stomach and jutting hips. God, even her belly button was pierced. Her whole body was like a knife, nothing but sharp edges and bits of metal. As Jessie watched, the pointy woman flipped a dart backwards over her own shoulder and hit a perfect bullseye, never even glancing at the board.

“Stop,” Maud said sharply.

“Stop what?”

“Looking. Thinking. Whatever you’re doing.”

Jessie leaned across the bar, conspiratorial. “Who is she?”

“Too old for you.”

“Maudie! That’s not what I meant!” Jessie said, blushing in a way that strongly suggested otherwise.

“Like hell it’s not.” Maud rolled her eyes, cut a glance over at the sharp woman, and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “She calls herself Flechette, like machete. You’re not supposed to pronounce it like that, it’s French, but she’s mangling it on purpose. Dumbass. She’s been hustling those saps for the last fifteen minutes, taking them to the cleaners, and if I was dumb enough to gamble I'd say they’re about to start catching on.”

“Hey,” said one of the saps, right on time. “How the hell are you doing that?”

“She’s a freak!” one of his friends declared, which was followed pretty immediately by sounds of terrible pain.

Jessie didn’t turn around fast enough; hardly anyone could have. By the time she could see what was happening Flechette was already twirling a pool cue like a weapon and pulling off a series of improbably high kicks and sharp elbow jabs. The guys she’d been soundly beating were hardly amateurs—they all had the look of professional enforcers, dumb muscle to the bone—but their lumbering punches never had a chance to land.

Maud whistled, loud and sharp enough to split right through the fracas “That’s enough. You know there’s none of that bullshit in here.”

Flechette froze at once, except to deal one more swift kick to a man trying to drag himself up from the floor. She dropped the pool cue and held her hands up, wide open to show that she was done being a threat. It was a choice though, Jessie thought; this woman was entirely in charge of how and when she was dangerous. Maudie had always seemed unshakeable to Jessie, stubborn and stern as a stone statue, but what could she have actually done if Flechette didn’t want to leave? The baseball bat beneath the bar wouldn’t be much use against someone like that. 

It didn’t matter. Flechette flashed a smile like a shark and made for the door, pausing to throw a wink back at the bar. Maybe that was meant for Maud, a final little taunt to remember her by, but Jessie liked to imagine that it was meant for her. She was watching with her jaw dangling to the floor, not trying to make any secret of it. When Jessie told the story later she would always editorialize, hinting that Flechette must have sensed a kindred soul in her that day, spotted another villain’s star rising. 

In any case, nobody ever saw Flechette around Rustbelt again. From there on out she started climbing the ranks as a mercenary and assassin for hire, eventually working for A-list baddies all over the world. She upgraded from darts to razor-thin daggers that could find their mark from nearly any distance, thanks to her superhuman aim, and her services were sufficiently in demand that no prison could keep her contained for long. Somebody more powerful was always eager to break her out and have her killing in their name.  

In the meantime, the door of One-Eyed Polly’s slammed shut at the exact moment a giant hand gripped Jessie’s shoulder and made her jump.

“It’s time to go,” Jonas said, low and urgent. “Come on, Jess. Say thanks to Maudie.”

“I didn’t even finish my drink,” she said, knowing immediately that it was a stupid thing to say.

“Maybe next time.” Maud’s face was tight, and she was already whisking the margarita glass away. “Take care, kids.”

Jonas steered Jessie straight to his awful van, completely silent until he was back in the driver’s seat and gripping the steering wheel. He hadn’t taken off his gloves, but Jessie could imagine his knuckles turning white. That was a bad sign, considering the van wasn’t even running.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said quietly.

Which confused Jessie for a moment, because she had assumed that she was in trouble. An apology was unexpected.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “It was cool. She’s badass.”

“She’s not a role model. Nobody in there is.”

“What about Recluse?”

Jonas groaned, lowering his head to the steering wheel as well. “You shouldn’t even know her name. No, she’s not a role model. She’s a psychopath.”

“What about Maudie?”

“She’s on thin ice,” he said, which would normally make Jessie chuckle and point out haha, ice, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood. And she wasn’t either, because Jonas was treating her like a baby and that ticked her off, so she did something rude.

“Well, what about you?”

That made him raise his head, at least, and she immediately regretted pushing him, because Jonas looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him in their entire life. He was getting dark hollows under his eyes, and he seemed skinnier and more raw beneath his baggy clothes every time she hugged him, and that hair that was going gray. 

“I don’t want to be there either, Jess. Don’t think for a second that I do, alright? This is pragmatism.”

“What does that mean? Come on, I’m failing English. I don’t know words.”

He reached into his jacket and withdrew a fat wad of bills clipped together, slapping them down on the center console. It wasn’t forceful, not enough to make Jessie cringe or scare her in any way—he was always careful about that, conscientious to be gentle with her since he had always been so much older and bigger. But she could tell he wanted to make a point about it.

“It means that I’m being smart and doing the thing that will make me the most possible money, even though it sucks.”

“Why, though?” Jessie pressed. “You don’t have to do it if you hate it so much.”

“Jess, come on. I’m trying to take care of you, okay? Dropping off groceries every week is expensive, and driving you around is expensive, and I’m…” He paused, rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. I didn’t want to bring it up too soon, in case it didn’t pan out, but what if you came to stay with me instead of Mom and Dad?”

Her heart skipped, and she immediately clamped down on that feeling before she could get too excited. She had to play it cool. “But you said I’m never allowed to visit your place.”

“Well, I’d have to get a new place. With no housemates, so I’d have to pay the rent and security deposit and everything by myself because it would be just me and you. But I think I could do it.”

Jessie swallowed hard. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

“No. But I think I could make them understand, if it was what you really wanted. And that’s another thing I’m saving up for, getting a lawyer if they try to fight about it. So that I could legally adopt you or something, if I have to. If you want me to.”

“Adopt me?” Jessie repeated. It sounded silly, thinking of Jonas as her parent instead of her brother. He was too young to be her dad. But it made sense, didn’t it? Mom made sure she had food and clothes and all that, but Jessie had never felt like her mom loved or even her. Dad loved her plenty, but he was responsible for losing all their money and getting the lights shut off at least as often as he was responsible for fixing it. Jonas was the only one who had ever managed to love her and take care of her. 

“If you want,” he said again. She’d never seen him so nervous. “You don’t have to. But I know Mom and Dad have been getting worse, and I don’t want you to have to stay there if you don’t want to. You should feel safe at home. And I’ve never forgotten what you said that night at the park. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

She knew exactly what he meant; there was only one night at the park for them. The night they’d been eating ice cream sandwiches and watching fireflies when the sky opened up, when time slowed to almost nothing and snapped back to a different world, a world where her brother was a walking blizzard. 

“It’s okay,” Jessie told him, even though it sort of wasn’t. She’d gotten used to it. “But I would. I’d live with you. It’d be cool.”

Jonas didn’t smile often or easily, but right then he looked happier and more relieved then she’d ever seen. Maybe even excited, like he had been worried she would say no and pick their parents over him. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll make it happen, Jess. I’ve been saving up as much as I can, and I think I’m close. We won’t be anywhere very nice, but I’ll find us somewhere. We’ll make it happen, okay?”

Jessie’s heart was racing, all the excitement of One-Eyed Polly’s already forgotten in light of this new development. She had to make sure this was for real, had to make this as close to legally binding as she could. “You promise?” 

He extended a little finger and she grinned, tied their pinkies together to seal the promise like they had since she was little.

“I promise,” he said. “You and me against the world.”

[deanmarywinchester]

best sf/f/horror I read in 2024

hello esteemed colleagues. here’s stuff I read in 2024 that I liked, in no particular order outside of the ranking tiers. find previous years of this reclist here

top 5

the bright sword by lev grossman: “lev grossman wrote a shockingly melancholy, hopeful, and expansive novel that hurts a little to read, about a young man who dreams of the age of heroes but finds that that age is over” and other unsurprising statements. this one is a take on Arthurian legend that happens after Arthur is dead, and is really interesting to me for how it portrays England as abandoned once by Rome’s great architects and then once more by the magic of Arthur’s court. with the age of legends twice dead, can anyone bring it back for real or can they only try to make it RETVRN?

the traitor baru cormorant + sequels by seth dickinson: there was a version of this post, before I went back and checked my list of what I read this year, where the top 5 was only Seth Dickinson books. these books are about how far you’ll descend into evil (ie how many war crimes you’ll commit as an imperial operative) to save your colonized home. they’re all good but the first one goes CRAZY. the author was a police bias researcher and it shows. portrays lesbian desire really really well. “hard fantasy” isn’t REALLY a thing but it’s this, they’re barely fantasy and more political drama

exordia by seth dickinson also: what if a reality-warping anomaly was hotly pursued by the US military while they were hotly pursued by aliens with planet-killing power? what if you got your whole village killed as a child and now you’re in a romcom with an alien? the Acknowledgements say, nearly word for word, “i wrote this between Barus for fun because those really take it out of me. anyway I’d like to thank the researchers who helped me with astrophysics, nuclear weapon functions, Kurdish feminism and history, and translation into five languages.” read if you like meticulously researched thrillers, Annihilation, and Challengers situations.

everything for everyone by eman adelhadi and m. e. o’brien: told with a framing device whereby the authors mention their own experiences with activism and revolution after the 2020s and compile an oral history of the future anarchist New York Commune, each chapter of this book is an interview with someone about a different aspect of how they contributed to revolution and setting up a new society. my gripe with this book is that I wish it talked more about problems that will still (or newly) exist in utopia, but I still loved it.

we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson: I finished this book and immediately went to that blog that was running the literary incest tournament earlier this year because I was certain that Merricat and Constance had placed and lo and behold they had. those gothic themes are gothic themeing. read if you want jackson’s theme of small-town distrust and paranoia and isolation taken to the extreme

honorable mentions

the raven tower by ann leckie: what I love about ann leckie is her ability to write non-human protagonists without sci-fi jargon and with totally alien concerns and viewpoints that you can nonetheless buy into. this protagonist is a rock living on a hill that is a local god. read if you like folktales, loners, and twist endings.

the sapling cage by margaret killjoy: even though this is middle grade, all you had to say to me was “Margaret From Podcasts does transfem anarchist Song of the Lioness” and I was in. in a medieval fantasy world without a concept of transness, a trans girl swaps places with her friend so her friend can become a knight and she can become a witch and discover who is leaching the life from the forests for their own gain. the witch politics/interpersonal drama is done with the eye of someone who’s lived in communes most of her life and the way it straddles lingering love of knight tales and distrust of armed people with the legal right to kill you is refreshing

do you dream of terra two by temi oh: the most elite graduates of a cutthroat boarding school are selected for a mission to explore a potentially habitable planet in this character-driven meditation on what it takes to believe in something you can’t see and may have to give up your whole life for

monstrilio: a piece of flesh from a woman’s dead son grows into a person of its own, initially shaped like a monster but molded by his parents into a more-or-less normal-looking young man with a taste for human flesh. cringe moment but this is what Jack Supernatural could have been. to me. litfic with themes of monstrousness/normality, grief, and the various meanings of consuming flesh.

long live evil by sarah rees brennan: listen I know how it sounds but I’m putting this book so high up this list because I had a blast. a teenage cancer patient gets isekai’d into a book series that her sister loves but that she only half remembers, and has to use her vague memory of the plot to avoid execution long enough to obtain a magic item that’ll cure her in the real world. it has something to say about how it feels to live in a body that’s healthy after being desperately sick but it’s also just catnip for your inner teen fangirl daydreaming about getting your first kiss from a tortured prince

the terraformers by annalee newitz: in three different stories of people at different times in the planet’s political development, the story of a privately-owned planet terraformed to be habitable is told. this is for you if you like future politics about privatization and the rights of non-human persons a la Murderbot

silver under nightfall by rin chupeco: this book was selected for me by my friend and favorite bookseller @literally-irreverent because i like romance IN things but I don’t usually like when romance is the whole plot. anyway this is about solving a dangerous strain of vampirism while having a vampire/vampire/vampire-hunter romance that is. mwah. chef’s kiss. read if you like politically disastrous polyamory and The Witcher

the adventures of amina al-sirafi by s. a. chakraborty: i read the daevabad trilogy and I liked it but didn’t love it, but I liked this book a lot. mostly I think it’s really fun to have a seagoing adventurer who’s a mom, and it was done with a lot of care for her perspective.

runners up

to shape a dragon’s breath by monquill blackgoose: in an alternate history New England, an indigenous teenager finds a dragon egg and must become the first non-European to attend a school for dragon riders near her island. YA with prose that skews young and easy to read but with a good story. themes of colonialism and resistance.

things have gotten worse since we last spoke by eric larocca: I don’t love larocca’s prose but I felt like this book succeeded because it’s written in internet dialogue + therefore hid larocca’s tendency to get purple prose with it. horror about the quick rabbithole that is getting socialized/groomed mostly online.

the lion will slaughter the lamb & the barrow will send what it may by margaret killjoy: novellas where a group of wandering punk-house dwellers find out what’s raising supernatural horrors and how to stop them from killing again

running close to the wind by alex rowland: this felt like an attempt to bottle the Our Flag-type chaos and comedy pirate romance vibes without feeling like straight-up fanfiction. a pathetic meow meow of an ex-intelligence agent tries to sell state secrets without getting caught aboard his ex’s ship, while the two of them bet on who can break a hot monk’s vow of chastity first

the gone world by tom sweterlitch: this felt like christopher nolan writing a detective novel, as government agents travel to parallel realities to solve a murder

autonomous by annalee newitz: in a future society, this follows a scientist on the run from the governments and pharma companies that are out to get her for her work to make patented medications available on the black market, as she tries to fix a mistake she made in making an addictive treatment available to the public. this book is broadly about intellectual property and about the concept of property at all

the deep sky by yume kitasei: weirdly this book is a very different take on the same concept as another book on this list, do you dream of terra-two, where graduates of an elite school are sent on a generation ship to start a new colony. the twist is that all the characters are expected to bear two children to carry on the generation ship, which leads to some wild mostly-unexplored gender dynamics. this one is much more sci-fi/mystery to Terra-Two’s character-driven drama.

the atlas six by olivie blake: well-written dark-academia thriller that is obvious booktok fodder. with the vibes of the mortal instruments (everyone is so hot and powerful and tortured!) meets the secret history, a group of young magicians is recruited to learn the secrets of the library of alexandria

Ursula, kill this clown: dishonorable mentions

I don’t have enough dishonorable mentions for their own post this year but HOLY FUCK. THE FIVE BOOKS OF ROBERT MOSES. this book is FOURTEEN hundred pages of absolute dogshit that I should have DNFed but I liked the concept so much that I wanted to find something to like in the execution. Nope! the pitch is “a dirty bomb turns NYC into a wasteland and the city is picked up and moved wholesale, with the maps of the five boroughs remaining more or less the same, into a Nevada desert refugee camp guarded by the army, and a major character is Robert Moses’ disaffected younger brother.” on a petty level, this is the New Yorkiest pitch possible for someone who absolutely doesn’t give a shit about developing the new desert New York with any interest or fidelity. on an unpetty level, this is a slop “political” “thriller” that doesn’t develop a strong political perspective and moves at a sloth pace. skip.

[spaceorphan18]

Okay, some Glee discourse, because it's been a while ::

@lilacdaisyrose mentioned in a comment :: I’m so shocked that Ryan Murphy actually revealed that!! Also, I’ve always wondered (sorry kinda related), at the time was Adam quite a big thing in the Klaine fandom? To me I find Adam so confusing because there’s so little character development and I always wish there was even a bit more, but also wonder why they introduced him if they weren’t going to really add to his character? 🙂

Okay. So. There are a lot of components to this. In order to understand the whole Adam thing, you kind of need to have the context of what was going on within fandom at the time.

The short version (because this deserves it's own psychological thesis piece) is that Kurt Hummel had a huge fan base that had been fractured into many different sub fandom groups, all of them centered around shipping him with different characters. But mostly the big divide was between people who liked Kurt with Blaine and people who didn't.

[This whole sub culture fandom thing is so fascinating, and I really should write up a giant master post about it some day.]

So, we got wind that Adam was coming some time around Christmas (And, I mean, originally his name was Paul, and it was Paul's Peaches. I wonder why that didn't clear Fox Standards and Practices, huh.) And so the Anti-Blaine Kurt Stans got a hold of this info and just raaaan with it. Like, it did not matter who he was or what kind of character he was -- he was not Blaine and that's ALL that mattered.

So, Adam became a thing before he was even a thing.

A couple of things happened, though. First of all, like usual and typical, the Klaine fans (and I mean, I'm not even getting into the sub culture of Klaine fan divides either, because that is another post) began harassing everyone - including the actor, which, you know, made him a little cold (understandably). He did one interview attempting to insinuate that his role was important, but it definitely bristled and I don't think it was his best PR move, but that was lower compared to all the rest of the nonsense going on.

The big thing that happened was that Adam's first song -- the remix of Baby, Got Back, was tied up in some legal issues. Basically, Ryan Murphy used the mix without crediting or even asking the person who mixed it if they could use it. Now, they got permission from Sir Mix A Lot (or whomever did that song originally) but then it got into some weird legal gray area stuff, and blew up in the media and left a bad taste in everyone's mouth. So the general audience soured on him pretty quickly.

On top of that -- there was a shit ton of stuff going on BTS -- Cory's addiction was becoming a problem, the network wanted to kill the show, the tinhatters were driving Chris to murder, like there are a bunch of layers of stuff going on that made all this complicated, and it all kind of results in Season 4 just being wonky on a lot of levels.

(Btw - do Kevin and Jenna talk about Adam at all? I haven't listened to the podcast in a long, long while, so I don't know, but my curiosity is piqued.)

But during that time, this was when the Glee cast was finally beginning to set some boundaries concerning social media, but Ryan Murphy was beginning to try to use it -- and he kept getting himself involved in fandom, and flying a little too closely to the sun. I do think Klaine was always where he wanted to go (because the actors (mostly Chris) did complain -- which, again deserves it's own post). But they were loud, and they were obnoxious about it.

No, Klaine fans did not like Adam. At all. They wanted him gone, and we wanted reconciliation. But the Anti-Blaine Kurt stans made Adam the measure of who Kurt's bf should be. They did not really care that Adam only had three episodes and very zero development and was clearly dropped like a hot potato because it's obvious Kurt still has feelings for Blaine because, you know, Kurt's sleeping with Blaine while this whole dating Adam is going on but...

It was just a mess.

The other thing you have to remember is that -- while this was live, we didn't get the chance to just watch quickly in succession and go onto the same thing. Those of us who were spoiled knew of this character for months before he appeared. And it was a whole fucking long time before Love Love Love finally closed the door on it officially. So while he was only around for those three episodes, the open endedness of it last a LOOOOONG time. And no one knew what was going on.

So the shipping wars, as usual, continued on and on and on.

I'm trying to think if I at all answered your question, lol.

Why did they create him? the tl;dr version is that since Season 3, they had Klaine (the now b-couple) mirror Finchel (the a-couple) -- prior to that Finchel was the b-couple and Wemma the a-couple, and Glee loved to do parallels with them. But Wemma really wasn't a thing much by season 4, and Klaine was much more popular, and my god they just loved having Kurt be Rachel lite sometimes that they're basically telling the same story with both couples.

So, Rachel gets a season long boyfriend only to wind her up with Finn again (only the cory stuff threw a wrench into that). So, clearly, Kurt needed to have one, too. But also -- they needed to have Kurt do something. They weren't going to put Klaine back together until sweeps week, or the finale because that's how network tv paced things back in the day. So Adam was just subpar character development.

I don't know what their original intentions for the character were. I don't know if they knew. I think they had their story up until 4x15 (overall) and then it got rocky because things with Cory were getting weird and it all just fell apart.

I do think, like Darren, the actor playing Adam got a three episode contract, and they wanted to test the audience's reaction. Clearly, it did not go well, and the added legal issues of the song just kind of made them sweep it under the rug all the faster.

Hopefully, some of my rambling made sense.

Maybe at some point in the future, I'll do an expansive history of the Kurt fandom series.

Or y'all can keep asking questions. What ever you'd like to do <3 lol

[primeministerofantarctica]

Okayy enough of that. Time for ducktales headcanons feat: the kids as college students* (*only two of them are in college)

Huey

double majoring in geography and history at calisota state

cracked her egg as a teenager

got a scholarship from the jr woodchucks, of which she is a lifelong member and local assistant troop leader

Dewey

got his private pilot license as soon as he legally could. and then his ged, under della's insistence

while the piloting gig is his main job, he's also a (aspiring) travel influencer/ vlogger

has tried starting a podcast at least six different times

Louie

majoring in business at the local community college while working at a coffee shop

is really good at talking to customers, not so anything that's harder than "pushing the espresso machine button". keeps dropping hints to the general manager that he should definitely get promoted.

his professors refuse to believe that scrooge "ay-earned-all-me-money-through-hard-work-what-do-you-need-college-for" isn't funding his tuition, but hey, who is he to deny some blatant favoritism when it suits him?

Webby

shush's #1 top field agent, often away dealing with threats both magical and mundane

has to go off the grid from time to time, but makes an effort to keep in touch with her family as much as she can

currently dating lena after an excruciatingly (for everyone else) long period of "we both like each other but we're also both incredibly oblivious idiots". they still have their friendship bracelets, ofc.

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

Okay I want to hear your thoughts on sapnap and mcc bc oh boy that sounds interesting

No because, genuinely there are old clips of people laughing when they bring him up because they know he's popular but they don't want to see anything bad about him. Like you can barely tell it's chuckle.

As you may know originally teams were categorised based on 2 factors. Vibes. And if they could go a long period of time without swearing or not.

In the Skizz and Imp podcast, Scott laments about how it was so hard to categorize people who could not go an extended period of time with swearing in their stream and with people who could not stop swearing.

And there is more people who are PG/ can go a long time without swearing, then non-pg people, the podcast was recorded roughly a bit before the sapnap drama with MCC but it was still bubbling.

I need you to go back and watch that podcast because even if they were clear examples you can still sense who he's talking about, because genuinely sapnap would swear so much but even non-pg people wanted to avoid playing with him. If you go back to watches old MCC wins you can hear the nervous chuckles of people when he begin to swear.

Additionally one time they were trying out a new system on MCC and a lot of people were aware of that and it came out that the math was wrong and two teams should have got first place instead of just one because of the math, and One team was willing to just relent a bit and at the end of the day walk away. But Sapnap on his own had caused such a fuss that they still had to give him a coin and had to let him compete in DodgeBolt, and how to get a crown for him post his picture saying that he won along with his team. I cannot describe to you the absolute tantrum that man went on. Over a coin. He was so disrespectful that he didn't come back for a couple mccs after.

There is a genuine reason why a collective group of people do not want him to compete in MCC.

And you're probably wondering why did he compete in the MCC recently? Because before the main deal of him being signed to kick.com he had already signed the application and had been accepted to do MCC. The same week he came out and said that he was joining kick.com and that a lot of it young viewers should join kick.com

People with begging Scott to remove him, but kick.com just gave that man 20 million and he would definitely find a suitable lawyer to take his case because he earns a substantial amount of money from MCC.

But why would he Sue over MCC? I have a longer post going through this, but I will explain it here to.

Scott couldn't say no. For alot of reasons but here are 2 off the top of my lil head

1. Him not allowing sapnap to compete in MCC after already accepting his application is illegal form of discrimination regarding someone's work. Because he would be discriminating against how he does his work and what he uses to do his work, ( a more clearer example of this would be for someone to reject another person's application because they found out that they were Binman/wasteman, explaining the other people thought it was filthy). In reality

Scott had no basis to withdraw his application and to withdraw his place because most arguments (which are true), had came from social media and it could be argued that the people on social media influence Scott to make that decision and therefore sapnap could have lost a large portion of revenue as a self-employed person that MCC and Scott would have had to repay him based on statistics.

Again I have a longer post going through the law on this but I fact checked everything, and he would genuinely have a legal basis to sue them for discrimination.

And Scott had to take all the stray bullets for that. Because in the UK you have to consent to a formal document being shared with someone else. And even though this is an application for a game it's still an application. So he couldn't share the content of the application because it's illegal here.

Also in the podcast Scott mentions him having a waiting list and then bring this up the applications and you brings up a rough idea of when they application started, and you could actually guess when the applications started From when sapnap started turning up less frequently. Meaning that he was one of the many reasons why the application was made in the first place.

2. Publicity. Sapnap brought a lot of viewers to can watch MCC and it's argued that if Dream and George were there but Sapnap was not there, the pair would not participate regardless of what team they were on because their friends. (BBH actually brings up how close their friendship is when he was defending dream against one of his many allegations and you can tell how close the friend group is. An in Sapnap's Defense of dream he literally goes on about how close they are and in the deleted vod he said wherever he goes I go).

But getting back on track, at the time without the large audience that MCC had it would have not been as sustainable as it is today. They definitely contributed to the success in the early days along with others as it will seen as a new form of Minecraft Monday.

He also raged pretty hard when in MCC 14 Scott's team won after giving hints to his teamate, to win ace race. To which half of his team didn't even finish. And they actually placed lower than top 3 in that event. Scott goes on to say about how he and other had tested it, they were giving instructions and Sapnap did actually finish.

But he was so mad that Scott team had won at a game that EVERYONE was objectively bad at that thiers a 15 minutes video of him screaming about it in Youtube.

Scott later went on to say him and many others who did finish also tested the map, and he always give hints to his team, AND SAPNAP HAD WON AN EVENT WITH SCOTT'S HELP AND USING SCOTT'S HINTS. It's only when he didn't win he had a problem with it.

Sapnap cried when he didn't win, and blame everyone about it yet shot up his ego when he did.

And admittedly he did get better as time went on but dude needs a whole ass team fr-

Are realistically you couldn't call the two of them friends they were more, a friend of a friend. And even if Scott didn't like them objectively over people like them and that's why they were there.

Sapnap but did not come back after the kick.com incident and I doubt he will.

And on that notion a lot of streamers have younger audiences ranging from children to teenagers to young adults. While kick.com is a primarily adult site, not completely adults but you're gonna see some weird things. The majority of streamers who participate in MCC, obviously are going to be put into teams. And if you were put into a team with Sapnap, who was streaming on kick.com, you might think to yourself "wow he'd fun ill check him out!" then boom pedo in your Dms.

For many streamers involved in the event he was not ideal to keep around because realistically he was endangering of a people's audiences while pumping out publicity from his own.

It was not fair to other streamers that their young audiences could we expose to an objectively talented person streaming on one of the worst sites known, and he signed this deal back when kick.com has no moderation, so imagine all the convicted sex offenders, criminals and gambling on the site, then in an attempt to get a younger demographic onto the side it paid Sapnap using the money that they gained from gambling to effectively switch over ( because, and Tubbo did a stream on this and summarized it accurately, because he had a couple conversations with this CEO and for money. Not for the audience).

Meaning that everyone is immediate circle who wanted to continue to watch his content or learn who he was through major events like MCC would download the app and then over your targeted by a lot of older people.

And actually this was the basis that allowed Scott to never bring him back but Scott could not get rid of him for the MCC because it would be legally discrimination.

There are a bunch of things too that I could say about how at the start the only people he would team with would be mostly from the dream SMP and how that directly correlates with how people described him in person, ( trying to control and dominate people), and how people like Niki were too scared to say no at the time, but it be a bit late my dude

The takeaway from this is that he was MCC Problem Child and that Scott couldn't immediately kick him out due to discrimination despite reassurance that he changed his behavior only to immediately sign to kick.com. How he'd endangered both his young audiences and other if he actually stayed. How we used to scream and yell at every one of his mistakes to the point where people didn't want to compete with him. How he would target people who faulted him within the game. And even how he practiced the game so much to the point where they had to make new maps and that if he would lose it would genuinely be down to his team and not him as a player because he had practiced so much meaning that his team felt worse after they didn't win because they knew it was their fault instead of just being happy to play the game ( like you remember when they blew up parkour warrior and replaced it with a new map because of them)

He was just realistically a mess and I'm surprised they tolerated him so long, because the amount of money they have to drop on changing things because the Dream Team had paid someone to recreate some of the maps so that they could practice, and then other people started doing that in which they would memorize a certain game practice that game and then come out on top ( an example of this would be technoblade, who memorised all materials needed for BuildMart and they had to change it and he was basically told that he couldn't do that and he was actually sorry because he didn't know because other people like we're doing it. And again with Technoblade killing people in Bingo to which in the Stream he says he didn't know that you could kill people in Bingo and once people figured it out that would be the strategy until they changed it. Philza practicing ace race maps as he had someone build an almost identical copy of the original because other people were doing it. Wil and other, trying to perfect The Glitch block technique and that's one point someone had commissioned another person to remake the map to see where it was going wrong so that they could utilize the bug instead of playing the game). All these things have in common that they were all in the same server at one point and that the dream team had started this trend but all of them stop doing it when they were told to stop doing it but the Dream Team didn't to the point where even Sands of Time had to be changed, parkour warrior, sky battle, battle box, parkour tag and TGTTOS had to be changed, and they actually sparked the "maybe we should have different maps" trend

Because it was a poorly hidden secret that they'd paid people to re-create maps so that they could practice. (but Scott giving hints is cheating he says while paying someone to remake parkour tag so that they can get a perfect run)