#Spark Go 2020

[doerot]

Again. The thing about jason is that he has like 1 and half good comics, and the girls that get him GET HIM. But the rest of his comics are the worst they could have possibly done it and 80% of his fans are very vocal about how wrong (and classiest, and misogynistic, and and) they are. So I understand completely why people hate him. I, however

[supercantaloupe]

do you still write opera fic (or other [musicals?]?)? any WIPS?

in theory yes. in practice i haven't had the motivation or time since like last summer

unless i get freak level obsessed with a thing, during the school year i usually have no time or motivation to write fic because i'm so busy reading and writing academic papers and stuff. i also don't read for pleasure much during the school year for the same reason. i usually have more time on breaks and over the summer, but then it's a matter of motivation and inspiration. even when i do have time on my hands i need a good idea to want to write and the luck of fate i guess to actually do so. and ironically while everything i write i write for the primary audience of myself, and appeal to what i personally want out of a fic, i am far better at Doing Things when i have external motivation. and the things i end up writing fic about more often than not are things that have like. a realistic potential audience of like 4 people, if i'm lucky, ha. so i don't really get the benefit of commenters or a rapt audience motivating me to keep writing.

there are still a few outstanding longform fics that, while i haven't touched in over a year, i haven't totally given up on the concept of finishing them. right now this would pretty much be the devil you know (don giovanni), starlight (oklahoma!), and the 25th annual solesian national spelling bee (fantasy high), all of which are relatively long multichapter works which i haven't acutally finished writing yet, but have at least loosely planned out an ending an a way to get there. fantasy high is the only one that i would hazard to say has a real potential audience, but since the junior year season disappointed me, i haven't gotten the interest back enough to keep writing that one just yet. but it's got enough behind it already that i don't want to entirely abandon it. starlight at this point is old enough to enroll in kindergarten (i started it shortly after i finished high school. jesus christ) and i don't even want to list the au qualifiers attached to that thing here lest i succumb to the cringe, but the story and the characters are still so dear to my heart i don't have it in me to truly abandon her. and the devil you know is similar, though (at least at this time) i think the premise is less cringe; i have Ideas for it still, but i don't have the drive to finish it right now unfortunately. or the audience. but i know better than to expect that anyone but myself is really reading fic of old ass operas and musicals.

[requinoesis]

Hello! Fellow shark lover here, so that means i absolutely love your art! What is your favourite piece youve made of all time and what inspired you to create it if anything did? 🦈

I'm so glad you like my shark art! 🦈✨

I had to think about your question for a while, but I think my favorite piece is this one. It's part of a series of illustrations set in the same world, created during the first Sharktober in 2020.

The story depicts a little pilgrim shark exploring the ruins of his own world, where he finds wonders created by his ancestors, now forgotten.

Even though his people have lost all hope, this little one is determined to restore the image of an ancient deity, once the ruler of the ocean spirit. This divinity, however, is corrupted by a sinister shadow that consumes it as faith fades.

If I were to try to describe the meaning of this story, I would say that the little shark could represent me. He symbolizes my own journey in exploring both the reality of sharks, which are on the brink of extinction, and the fascinating aspects of their biology, ecology and role in the world - things that are ignored and in danger of being forgotten. His journey to “purify” the tarnished image of sharks reflects my attempt to recover the fascination and admiration they deserve.

However, like the little shark, I feel powerless in the face of such a great challenge. Who am I to counterbalance the negative influence that the movie Jaws had and that reverberates to this day? It only took one movie to destroy sharks’ image; could the opposite be done with the same intensity?

The fact that it seems that only this little shark still holds out hope of restoring the lost ocean, while their people live daily lives resignedly, waiting for the end, perhaps reflects something personal for me. Many times, those closest to me have discouraged me from trying to help the sharks, saying that it was “useless" or that I should "fight for a more important cause”.

Just as the little shark chose to trust his heart and leave his village, I decided to trust only myself on this lonely journey. Still, I keep trying. From ruin to ruin, the little shark persists, restoring one spark at a time to the great cosmic shark.

Perhaps, at some point along the way, when I can no longer go on, I will be able to inspire others to continue this journey. May they purify more sparks, until the full image of the sharks is restored.

Currently, I'm thinking of using the world I've created of this little pilgrim shark as some kind of “ RPG Book” of my modern sharkfolk that you know, it would probably be called “The Buried Ocean”.

[robertreich]

10 Worst Things About The Trump Presidency

Donald Trump left office with the lowest approval rating of any president ever. But some people now seem to be suffering from amnesia.

Let me jog your memory. Here are 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency — in no particular order.

#1. Trump fueled division and sparked a record uptick in hate crimes.

#2. Murder went way up under Trump. He presided over the largest ever single-year increase in homicides in 2020. A number of factors might have contributed to that, but a big one is…

#3. Gun sales broke records under Trump, who has bragged about how he “did nothing” to restrict guns as president in spite of…

#4. Under Trump, America suffered more than 1,700 mass shootings.

#5. Trump said there were "very fine people" among the neo-Nazis in Charlottesville.

I’m halfway to ten. If you think I’m missing something big, leave it in the comments.

#6. Trump allied himself with the Proud Boys, a violent hate group who helped orchestrate the Jan 6 Capitol attack.

#7. Trump’s not wrong when he says…

TRUMP: I got rid of Roe v. Wade.

It is entirely because of Trump’s judicial appointments that 1 in 3 American women of childbearing age now lives in states with abortion bans.

#8. One of Trump’s Supreme Court justices was Brett Kavanaugh, a man accused of sexual assault by multiple women.

#9. Trump’s White House interfered in the FBI’s investigation of Brett Kavanaugh’s alleged sexual assaults.

And now: #10. Trump has been convicted of committing 34 felonies while in office. The criminally false business filings he got convicted for in New York? All of them were committed while he was president.

I’m sorry, did I say the 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency? I meant 15.

#11. Trump’s failed pandemic response is estimated to have led to hundreds of thousands of needless deaths. By the time Trump left office, roughly 3,000 Americans were dying of covid every day. That’s a 9/11-scale mass casualty event every single day. How did Trump screw up so badly?

#12. Trump’s White House discarded the pandemic response playbook that had been assembled by the Obama administration.

#13. Trump disbanded the National Security Council’s pandemic response team.

#14. Trump repeatedly lied about the danger of covid, saying it was no worse than the flu or that it would go away on its own.

But behind closed doors, Trump admitted he knew covid was deadly.

#15. Trump promoted fake covid cures like hydroxychloroquine and even injecting people with disinfectants.

After Trump’s “disinfectant” remarks, poison control centers received a spike in emergency calls.

That’s fifteen things. Should I keep going? Ok, I’ll keep going. The 20 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.

#16. Trump presided over a net loss of 2.9 million American jobs — the worst recorded jobs numbers of any U.S. president in history.

#17. Trump profited off the presidency, making an estimated $160 million from foreign countries while he was president.

#18. Trump also billed the Secret Service over $1 million for the privilege of staying at his golf clubs and other properties while they protected him. That’s your money!

#19. Trump caused the longest government shutdown in U.S. history when he didn’t get funding for his border wall, which he said Mexico was going to pay for.  

#20. Under Trump, the national debt increased by about 40% — more than in any other four-year presidential term — largely because of his tax cuts for the rich and big corporations.

You didn’t really think I was stopping at 20, did you? We’re going to 25 —

#21. Trump separated more than 5,000 children from their parents at the border, with no plan to ever reunite them, putting babies in cages.

#22. The Muslim Ban. Yes, Trump really did try to ban Muslims from entering the country.

#23. Trump sparked international outrage by moving the American Embassy in Israel to Jerusalem while closing the U.S. mission to Palestine.

#24. Trump tasked his son-in-law Jared Kushner with drafting a potential Middle East “peace plan” with zero Palestinian input.

#25. And finally, Trump recognized Israel’s occupation of the Goh-lahn Heights, which is considered illegal under international law.

So there you have it, folks: The 25 Worst — Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Did I mention the impeachments? We’ve got to do the impeachments. Let’s go to 30.

#26. Trump broke the law by trying to withhold nearly $400 million of U.S. aid for Ukraine in an effort to extort a personal political favor from Ukraine’s Pres. Zelensky. Trump wanted Zelensky to interfere in the 2020 election by announcing an investigation into the Bidens. Delaying this aid to Ukraine weakened Ukraine and strengthened Russia.

#27. Trump personally attacked and ruined the careers of everyone who stood in the way of his illegal Ukraine scheme, including Ambassador Marie Yovanovitch and Lt. Colonel Alexander Vindman.

#28. To cover up the scheme, Trump ordered the White House and State Department to defy congressional subpoenas.

#29. For these reasons, on December 18, 2019, Trump became the third U.S. president to be impeached. He was charged with Abuse of Power and Obstruction of Congress.

#30. Even while he was being investigated for trying to get Ukraine to interfere in the U.S. election, Trump publicly called for China to interfere in the election.

So those are the 30 Worst Things —

I’ll go to 35.

#31. Long before Election Day, Trump started making false claims that the election would be rigged.

#32. After losing, Trump falsely claimed the election was stolen, even though his own inner circle, including his campaign manager, White House lawyers, and his own Justice Department and attorney general told him it was not.

#33. Trump kept telling his Big Lie even after more than 60 legal challenges to the election were struck down in court, many by Trump-appointed judges.

#34. Trump ordered the Department of Justice to falsely claim that the election “was corrupt.”

#35. Trump and his allies used threats to pressure state leaders in Arizona and Georgia to falsify the election results.

We may go to 40.

#36. When none of the previous schemes worked, Trump and his allies produced fake electoral votes cast by fake electors in multiple swing states. His former White House chief of staff and Rudy Giuliani are among the many members of his inner circle who have been criminally indicted for this scheme.

#37. Trump tried to bully Vice President Pence into obstructing the certification of the election.

#38. Trump invited a mob to the Capitol on Jan 6 with his “be there, will be wild” tweet.

#39. Sworn testimony alleges that when Trump was warned that members of the crowd were carrying deadly weapons, he ordered security metal detectors to be taken down.

#40. Knowing the crowd had deadly weapons, he ordered them to go to the Capitol and…

TRUMP: …fight like hell.

#41 — Yes, yes, I know, bear with me.

Trump betrayed his oath to defend the nation by doing nothing to stop the Jan 6 violence. Instead, according to witness testimony, he sat and watched TV for hours.

#42. On January 13, 2021, Trump became the only president ever to be impeached twice. This time he was charged with incitement of insurrection. It was a bipartisan vote.

#43. The majority of senators — 57 out of 100 — voted to convict Trump, including 7 Republican senators.

So that’s the two impeachments and the Big Lie, but wait, we haven’t dealt with Russia, right? So we’re going to 50.

#44. In a likely obstruction of justice, Trump pressured then FBI Director James Comey to stop the FBI’s investigation into Trump’s National Security Adviser, Michael Flynn. This was documented in the Mueller report.

#45. When Comey didn’t bend to Trump’s will, Trump fired him.

#46. Trump tried to shut down the Mueller investigation by ordering White House Counsel Don McGann to fire Mueller. McGann refused because that would be criminal obstruction of justice.

#47. When news got out that Trump tried to fire Mueller, Trump repeatedly told McGann to lie — to Mueller, to press, to public — and even create a false document to conceal Trump’s attempt to fire Mueller.

#48. Trump ordered his staff not to turn over emails showing Don Jr. had set up a meeting at Trump Tower before the 2016 election with representatives of the Russian government.

#49. Trump convinced Michael Cohen to lie to Congress about Trump’s plans to build a Trump Tower in Moscow, and Cohen served prison time for lying to Congress.

#50. Trump was not charged for criminal obstruction of justice because it’s the Justice Department’s policy not to indict a sitting president, but more than a thousand former federal prosecutors who served under both Republicans and Democrats, signed a letter declaring there was more than enough evidence to prosecute Trump.

So those are the 50 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency. Now I could go on…

And I will! The 75 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.

#51. Trump said he’d hire only the best people, but…

His campaign chair was convicted of multiple crimes.

So was one of his closest associates.

His deputy campaign chair pleaded guilty to crimes.

So did his personal lawyer

His National Security Adviser

The Chief Financial Officer of his business

A campaign foreign policy adviser

And one of his campaign fundraisers.

They all committed crimes, and Trump pardoned most of them.

#52. Trump said he’d drain the Washington swamp. But he appointed more billionaires, CEOs, and Wall Street moguls to his administration than any administration in history

#53. Trump intervened to get his son-in-law, Jared Kushner top-secret clearance after he was denied over concerns about foreign influence.

#54. Trump hosted a Russian Foreign Minister to the Oval Office, where Trump revealed top-secret intelligence.

Oh, and Trump’s economic policies!

#55 Trump promised that the average American family would see a $4,000 pay raise because of his tax cuts for the wealthy and big corporations. How’d that work out? Did you get a $4,000 raise? Of course not! Nobody did!

#56. Trump vowed to protect American jobs, but offshoring increased and manufacturing fell.

#57. Trump said he would fix America’s infrastructure, but it never happened. He announced so many failed “infrastructure weeks” they became a running joke.

#58. Trump said he would be “the voice” of American workers, but he filled the National Labor Relations Board with anti-union flacks who made it harder for workers to unionize.

#59. Trump’s Labor Department made it easier for bosses to get out of paying workers overtime, which cheated 8 million workers of extra pay.

#60. Trump repeatedly suggested he might serve more than two terms in violation of the Constitution — and continues to do so.

#61. Trump called Haiti and African nations “shithole” countries.

#62. Trump tried to terminate DACA, which protects immigrants brought to the U.S. as children. Luckily this was struck down by the courts.

#63. Trump called climate change a “hoax.”

#64. Trump pulled out of the Paris Climate Agreement.

#65. Trump rolled back more than 100 environmental protections.

#66. Every budget Trump proposed included cuts to Social Security and Medicare.

#67. Trump tried (and failed) to repeal the Affordable Care Act, which would have resulted in 20 million Americans losing insurance. And striking down the ACA’s protections for the roughly 130 million people with pre-existing conditions could have driven up their insurance premiums or led to a loss of coverage.

#68. Trump made it easier for employers to remove birth control coverage from insurance plans.

#69. By the end of Trump’s term, the number of people lacking health insurance had risen by 3 million.

#70. Trump lied. Constantly. He made 30,573 false or misleading claims while president — an average of 21 a day, according to Washington Post fact-checkers.

#71. Trump allegedly took hundreds of classified documents on his way out of the White House, reportedly including nuclear secrets, which he then left unsecured in various parts of Mar-a-Lago, including a bathroom. He was even caught on tape showing them off to people.

#72. Trump seriously discussed the idea of nuking a hurricane.

#73. When Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico, Trump delayed $20 billion of aid and allowed Puerto Rico to be without power for 181 days.

#74. Trump suggested withholding federal aid for California wildfire recovery and said the solution was to “clean” the “floors” of the forest.

#75. Trump pulled out of the Iran deal, placing Iran on a path to developing nuclear weapons.

Honestly, there’s so much more, from exchanging “love letters” with North Korea’s brutal dictator to publicly denigrating a Gold Star military widow and making her cry, to the way he attacked journalists, to late night tweet binges.

Look, I can understand why a lot of people want to block all of this out of their memories. But we cannot afford to forget just how terrible Trump’s time in the White House was for this nation.

And we sure as hell can’t afford to put him back there.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 17k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex,, florence + the machine - mermaids,, zayn - bordersz,, mikky ekko - who are you, really?,, q - alone,, danna paola - tenemos que hablar,, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, summer camp - i want you

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. the music recs above are also really nice to get into the vibe! enjoyyyy :D

[ ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ JUMP TO PART TWO ]

i. ASK ME THE TRUTH AND I’LL TELL YOU A LIE

the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.

“on september 2nd, around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police receives a call from you, saying your father hung himself.”

you stare at the the inspector — whose name you did not bother remembering — before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”

with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”

“no, i don’t.”

“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what exactly happened, since there were no witnesses.”

“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”

he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that were the case?”

“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.

all you can do is sigh. “i was his daughter in blood and name only. nothing more.”

with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”

that sparks your interest. “who?”

the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.

“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.

“what can you tell me about him?”

leaning back in your chair, you list a few things. “he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”

“anything else?”

keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”

“any particular reason why?”

“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”

the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”

“such as?”

his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”

your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”

“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”

“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”

“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”

scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.

this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.

you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.

which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.

your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.

and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.

as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.

his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”

“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”

your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”

he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”

it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.

“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”

he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”

“neither am i.” you state. like always, there’s a tangible coldness to your voice, which he finds soothing, for whatever reason.

it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.

a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair.

you proceeded to laugh in his face.

mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.

“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”

instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”

you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”

a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”

only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.

so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.

mingyu only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

ii. THE HATRED WE BEAR

you find yourself staring at your father’s tombstone with a numb face and the wind breezing through your hair. your makeup is slightly smudged under your eyes from the tears you shed just an hour before, while you were giving the public a final speech regarding his passing.

the funeral was long — too long.

at a certain point, once the whole thing was done and everyone left, you decided to take a quiet moment for yourself in the graveyard to let everything sink in.

you made the mistake of thinking you’d left alone.

a voice you’re too familiar with speaks up behind you. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

of course it’s kim mingyu out of all people who’s still here, sneaking up on you.

you don’t have the energy to make a snarky comment this time. “i’d ask why you’re still here, but it’s a question i already know the answer to.”

he still offers you his answer. “i’m here to check up on you.”

well, that takes you by surprise. “why?”

“you lost the one parent you had left. i don’t want you to be alone.”

something about that sentence fuels a sudden anger in you. he’s got some fucking nerve, saying that to you. “maybe you should’ve considered that a couple years ago. you know, before you decided to become my dad’s little protege.”

even as a little girl, your bond with your father was a shitty one. your mother passed when you were young, so you barely have any memories left of her.

in an attempt to win his love and affection, you always did everything your father asked of you, yet your efforts were hardly acknowledged. you found him to be a harsh and cruel man, but surely with you being his daughter, his only child, he must’ve cared for you. or so you always told yourself.

something about your yearning for his approval and support changed for the worse when mingyu’s mother became a prominent business partner to your father, about nine years ago. it made him spend more time with the kim family, and you have no idea how or why it happened, but mingyu became like a son for him.

you saw how well your dad treated him, and you cried for a long, long time as you compared it to his neglect towards you. for every pat on mingyu’s back, you got scolded for not being good enough. whenever he got praised, you got discarded. it’s no miracle that you came to be the way that you are. detached, perceptive, appearing to be just as unfeeling as the man who raised you.

you hated your father. with all your heart.

but you grew to hate kim mingyu more.

so to hear him say that he doesn’t want you to be alone — that takes the goddamn cake.

he lowers his head at your words. “it wasn’t like that.”

“right. of course it wasn’t.” your voice is painfully spiteful.

“i wouldn’t have done it if i knew it was at your expense. i’m sorry.”

he’s trying to be nice to you, not understanding yet that it’s actually doing more damage, making you angrier. “the last thing i want is your fucking pity.”

“then what do you want?”

“nothing you can give me.” it’s a subtle final warning coming from you, because you’re actually about to explode at him. “just leave me be.”

“please, just... i wanna help you.”

like a ticking time bomb, you suddenly hit your limit. finally, you turn around, facing him, and it’s only then that he truly sees how upset you are, like a storm suddenly changing its direction, and he’s in the way.

“help me? you’d help me by getting the fuck out of my face. you wanna know what i want, mingyu? i want to know what in god’s name everyone loves so much about you, what it is that made my father shut me out completely and replace me with you. he gave you more love than he ever gave me. just looking at you makes me sick. what the fuck did he see in you that he didn’t see in me?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from pouring your emotions out to the guy in front of you. “why did he hate me so much? even in death, he favors you over me. he left you... everything. a final ‘fuck you’ to his own child. and for what? for you?”

the fact that you got word from your father’s lawyer that your father chose to leave everything he had to mingyu instead of you was like the straw that broke the camel’s back.

throughout your life, you always did what was expected of you. you were the perfect daughter.

and for what?

the fact that your father grew to hate you and love this asshole so much that he left you not a single penny to your name — that is your tipping point.

and mingyu just wordlessly allows you to continue ranting, almost as if he deserves it.

“what the fuck is so special about you, huh? because i don’t get it. sure, you’ve got a nice face and you’re a smart guy, but i don’t believe you actually give a shit about others. i bet you came here today to rub my dad’s inheritance in my face — you fucking pretentious douchebag.”

“i’m sorry. i never meant—” he stumbles, nearly falling over as he backs away while you keep stepping forward, feeling surprisingly small in front of you, in spite of his tall frame.

“i don’t give a shit if this is what you intended to happen or not! i’m all alone.” you show your sadness right between the anger and hostility, vulnerable in front of him. “no family like everyone else, no money, no house, nothing. abandoned by the one person i had left.”

he looks at you as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. he’s never even shown you a hint of vulnerability — nor have you for that matter — so why is he showing it now?

you’re too deep into your breakdown to think rationally about it. “you took literally everything that i had. and i’ll never forgive you for that.”

“please, let me—let me fix it.” he chokes out, as overwhelmed by your strong emotions as you are yourself.

the harshness of your words makes him feel like he’s crumbling in your presence. “talk to me like you care about me one more goddamn time, and i’ll make you regret ever meeting me in the first place.”

in all the years that you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him flinch — you doubt any of your words have ever hurt him.

until this moment, it seems. but why is he even hurt? you don’t care about him and he doesn’t care about you. it’s always been that way, and you have a hard time believing it’ll ever change.

the moment you walk away from him with a sharp pain in your chest, pushing him to the side by his shoulder, he’s left behind in a shocked and bewildered state, neither of you aware that a pair of curious eyes witnessed the whole exchange.

iii. ULTERIOR MOTIVES

“the full inheritance of your father has been transferred over to you.”

the cup of tea you were raising stills with your hand. your eyes narrow at your lawyer as you’re seated in the garden of your father’s estate. “what—how? why? it wasn’t passed down to me.”

“no, but the person it was passed down to can always make the decision to pass it on. and he did — surprisingly with no strings attached,” he tells you, putting the document from the notary in front of you, “i had it all double-checked. everything’s there, the documents signed by kim mingyu himself.”

just hearing the name makes you grimace, putting you off your tea. “and there’s absolutely nothing he wants from me?”

“nothing was mentioned, no. he did, however, leave you a note.”

“what does it say?”

your lawyer raises his brow as he reads it, handing it to you instead of reading it out loud, which makes you give him a puzzled look before casting your eyes downwards to the piece of paper.

tomorrow, 4:30, my apartment. all you have to do is sign the papers. i look forward to the day you’ll make me regret meeting you.

“that asshole.” you mutter to yourself, not loud enough for your lawyer to hear it, but he’s certainly got an idea of how you feel about the whole situation.

“you do, of course, always have the option to reject the inheritance, but i would highly recommend not to. frankly, in all of my years of experience in this field, i’ve never felt a bigger need to encourage a client to take a deal.”

once you’ve picked up the documents and skimmed over the words, you look back at him. “and if i did accept it, it wouldn’t contain any possible implications for me in the long term?”

“none. it is... fairly remarkable he’s willing to give you the full inheritance for nothing in return, even if he and his family are known for their wealth. but it wouldn’t be a significant loss for him, considering the capital he already has to his name.” the man explains, not needing to spell it out for you.

you put down your cup. “knowing him, i’m not so sure he doesn’t want anything. i suppose i’ll have to talk to him about it myself, tomorrow.”

your lawyer highly encourages you to do so, leaving you to spend the rest of the day wondering what he could possibly want from you.

and so the following day, at 4:30 sharp, you step into his apartment — penthouse is the more fitting term. you’ll admit, though, that he’s got style.

it’s dead silent in his place, save for the metronome in the background and the slow brew of his coffee machine. he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with black trousers as he approaches you. “glad you could make it. coffee?”

“why are you willing to give me the inheritance?” you ask directly, not feeling up for the unnecessary chitchat. you’ve always hated small talk. “if it was just a set-up, i’m leaving.”

he doesn’t seem to be even the slightest bit surprised by your forwardness. “i’m willing to give it to you because a) i don’t need it, and b) i don’t want it. i think it’s ridiculous your dad set up his will like this.”

“well, that makes two of us.” you fake a polite smile, clearly very sarcastically, putting your hand on your hip. “you asked me to come sign the papers, but i have yet to see them.”

mingyu smiles a little at you. of course you’d skip straight to business — you never were a girl of many words. he walks over to a cupboard and takes a sealed folder with the documents out of a drawer, handing it to you.

when you attempt to take the folder from him, he swiftly retracts his hand like the asshole he is. “it’s not completely free, though.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “of course. i should’ve known better than to believe you were willing to do something out of the kindness of your own heart.”

he just keeps going as if he didn’t hear you, very much used to the little quips you throw at him by now. “don’t worry, i think you can manage this very small task for me.”

“just tell me what you want already—”

“my family’s hosting a gala next week, on friday. i’d like you to be my date.”

you’re baffled. this is what he wants in return for the inheritance worth millions of dollars? to have you on his arm for a single night?

oh, hell no. you’re not falling for it.

“why? you wanna publicly humiliate me or something?” you question, a deep frown settled in your forehead.

he huffs, annoyed that you’d think that low of him. “i know we’ve always hated eachother, but, maybe, during a hard time… it would be nice to have one relaxed night. and yeah, i wouldn’t mind doing that with a pretty girl to keep me company. what do you say? deal?”

not once in all the years you’ve known him has he ever called you pretty.

“fine. but don’t think about pulling any stunts.”

“wouldn’t dare.” his smile sits somewhere beween teasing and serious when he finally hands you the papers.

you sit down and briefly scan the documents, not signing them right away to have them checked by your lawyer first. “if everything in this is according to the plan, you��ll have them signed by tomorrow morning.”

“okay. see you friday.” he winks at you, escorting you to his front door, a subtle grin on his face that gives off the impression he’s planning something, and you can only imagine what it might be.

there is one good thing about having to spend time in his family home, though — and that’s to search his rooms to find anything that might implicate him having something to do with your father’s murder.

since there’s still a culprit to be named.

with your own agenda in mind, you walk out of his apartment, searching for the name of your stylist in your contacts.

you’re going to need a dress, after all.

iv. A PROPOSAL

with a stern look on your face, you look at the entrance of the gala from the tinted window of your car. it’s all bright lights and colorful decorations, candles, flowers — the kim family is well known for their luxurious and memorable parties. you’ve attended plenty of them. while you and mingyu may not get along, his sister and mother are genuine sweethearts, some of the kindest and most welcoming people you know.

if only you could say the same for the asshole you’re about to spend the evening with.

after checking your makeup in the pocket-sized mirror for a final time, your driver opens your door so you can step out of the car, which leaves you on your own in front of the stairs.

mingyu originally mentioned he wanted to pick you up at your home like the gentleman he very much claims to be, but you very quickly shut the idea down and told him you’d just meet him at his family’s mansion.

so here you are.

attending a gala only a month after your father’s funeral must seem like an… interesting choice, to say the least. the people you come across express their condolences and ask if you’re doing well — you wonder if the sentiment is real or not — and you tell them you’re here because it serves well as a distraction.

you’ve become an excellent liar over the years.

as you’re standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing, you observe the people on the dance floor below. those who aren’t dancing are chattering, the noises of clinking glasses and laughter filling your ears.

most of the time, you’re able to somewhat enjoy this life. but the truth is that it can be as exhausting as it is glamorous.

but with your last living parent gone, you do feel a sense of freedom, even if it is lonely at times.

not like you didn’t feel lonely when he was still alive.

you didn’t love him or care for your father. you cared for the hope that someday he would change. that he would show you he did care for you, even a little bit.

but that day never came.

he was primarily an investor, so at least you haven’t been burdened with having to take over a business or anything like it. having no siblings either, you feel like you should take this opportunity to start fresh; focus on building your own career and use your father’s money for things he’d never approve of.

suddenly, you spot your date in the midst of the crowd, breaking you out of your train of thoughts. his half-long hair looks pretty on him, you have to admit, the few strands in front of his face paired with the tailored, navy suit giving him the appearance of a model.

he’s currently talking to an older woman who clearly seems to adore him, the smile he puts up making her give him a gentle, loving squeeze on his upper arms. like always, no one is able to read the bitterness you feel as your face remains neutral.

growing up in your restricted social circle of the country’s wealthiest families, your group of peers wasn’t extremely big. you all went to the same primary school, same private high school. mingyu was always one of if not the most popular kid at school. an effortless ace at every fucking thing. everyone loved him, be it your peers or their parents.

you wouldn’t say you weren’t popular. quite the opposite, actually. your best friend was the queen bee of the school, as she was always striving to be the best in everything. top of the class, highest achievements, a true perfectionist at heart. bold, definitely a bit judgemental and classist too, but once she’s your friend, she’s the sweetest girl in the world. she did like to dabble in some drama with others if it came onto her path.

and you were the opposite. you preferred to steer clear of any drama, much preferring to watch it unfold from the sidelines — as you usually just didn’t care enough to interfere with it — and you were never quite as talkative as your best friend.

the sentences leaving your mouth are always quick, direct, sharp and without stutter. you’re masterful at small talk, even though you hate it. you know how to play people like a fiddle. your father made you use your manipulation skills to good use rather frequently.

many consider you cold and calculated.

which is true, of course. but you still have a heart, even if it barely beats.

the outburst you gave mingyu after your father’s funeral must’ve come as a shock to him. no one has ever seen you in such a vulnerable and weak state, and out of all the people who could’ve seen it, it naturally had to be him — and that makes you uncomfortable.

once he’s finished his conversation, he looks in front of him, then up at the balcony — and he locks eyes with you.

you give him a look of acknowledgment, but that’s it. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, still shining as brightly as ever, making his way up the stairs as fast as he can. “i’m sorry i wasn’t at the entrance to greet you, i didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

“it’s fine.”

he glances up and down, admiring the dress you chose. “you look gorgeous.”

the deeply dark green dress with its boat neckline, long and fitted sleeves and intricate gold embroidery makes you look elegant. with the dress itself already being quite the statement piece, you chose to pair it with dainty earrings, your hair half-up and curled.

“thank you.” you don’t bother saying anything about his appearance. he must be used to it at this point.

“can i get you something to drink?”

you test the waters by throwing in a joke. “what, planning on poisoning me?”

his eyes flicker for a moment, stricken by something you can’t quite place, which makes you blink at him. his flirtatious and charming self returns within a mere second, and he proceeds to snicker at your joke. “i could, but where’d be the fun in that?”

rolling your eyes at him, you take his arm once he’s offered it, keeping in mind you’re doing this for the inheritance.

the time goes by quicker than expected. he introduces you to some of the people he’s close with, tells you stories you’ve never heard before, even asks you about yours.

a few of his friends come by as well, surprised to see you by mingyu’s side. most people your age here know that you and him have never quite gotten along, to put it lightly.

when they subtly ask about it, mingyu tells them he insisted you came to distract yourself from the death of your father, and that you could probably use a party.

it raises more question marks as to what his motive is for asking you to be here tonight. what is he gaining from this? he hasn’t humiliated you yet. if anything, he’s only spoken of you highly, save for the little snark he keeps between the two of you.

it’s strange. really strange.

after a while, once all the guests have been drinking a bit, you decide to set your own plan in motion. this might be your only chance to snoop around here, as you doubt you’ll find yourself in here again anytime soon.

you’re literally invited in his home — you’d be a fool not to check his room.

unfortunately, just as you try to disappear from the crowd, mingyu extends his hand to you. “dance with me?”

just as you’re about to refuse him, you remember that this is the one night you have to be nice to him, all so he can give you the inheritance that was meant to be yours in the first place.

with a small sigh, you slide your hand in his, at which he grins triumphantly.

before you know it, you’re in the middle of the room together, and he has his one hand on your lower back, the other hand intertwined with yours. he’s smooth with his moves, you have to admit.

the question has already left your mouth when you process it. “why am i here? i’m sure there’s a reason i needed to be your date tonight.”

mingyu cocks his head at you. “i think you’ve had to endure a lot the past couple weeks. the incident, the interrogations, the press, the shit with the inheritance — i’m impressed you haven’t lost your mind yet.”

“how do you know i haven’t?” you ask, and he twirls you around, his hands feeling like they’re burning on your skin. “wasn’t my breakdown after the funeral enough to prove you otherwise?”

“well, looking back, i should’ve probably left you alone in that moment. but i did think about what you said, and you can correct me if i’m wrong, but i feel like your father and our ties to him were what made us hate eachother so much. now that he’s gone, maybe we can… i don’t know. tolerate one another.”

you make sure to hide your confusion from him. does he really not see it? sure, the main reason you’ve always despised mingyu was because of his relationship with your father, but you weren’t exactly best friends before that either.

even putting it like that would still make it the understatement of the year.

if he actually pictures the two of you becoming friends, though, he’s lost it.

unsure of what to tell him, you give him a shitty excuse to escape the conversation. “i’m just gonna use the ladies’ room, if you don’t mind.” you let mingyu know, and he nods at you in acknowledgement, caught off guard by you leaving so suddenly.

so you walk off, the voices of the people and the music in the hall fading into the background as you trail off.

now that you’re alone, you can finally go check his room.

it’s harder to navigate the mansion than you thought. hallways that all look similar, god knows how many rooms — you hope you won’t get lost here.

one of your best friends is good friends with mingyu’s sister, and so she knows the place like the back of her hand. when you asked her for the layout of the place, she did think it strange, but you told her she had nothing to worry about.

mingyu’s bedroom and study are supposedly on the third floor of the east wing, and the party takes place in the west wing.

so that’s just fucking great.

your best friend did warn you that he most often keeps his doors locked whenever visitors are present, so to ensure you could get in, you snatched the key from his pocket when he was dancing with you earlier.

it almost makes you chuckle when you think about how easy it was.

when you’ve finally arrived at what seems to be the door to mingyu’s room, you double-check the environment around you to see whether anyone’s following you, and when it appears to be safe, you shove the key into the lock, twisting it.

you exhale when realizing it’s the right key.

entering the room, you quickly shut it behind you, taking in the sight.

it’s raining outside, which you take notice of through the large windows. several paintings adorn the walls — you didn’t know he was a lover of art — as well as some photos of him with his family.

the room is surprisingly tidy, his clothes all neatly folded on the wooden planks in his closet and the drawers underneath. the few books he has sitting on top of the cupboard are gathering dust — you suppose he doesn’t like to read all that much.

of course he doesn’t.

his king-sized bed seems soft and comfortable, and the room smells of the cologne and perfume he always wears.

you blink a few times, realizing you’re dwelling too much on details that are not a priority right now.

which is enough to snap you awake, a rush of adrenaline moving through your veins as you look for anything interesting. files, documents, notebooks — anything.

you find his agenda in a drawer of his desk. with slightly trembling fingers, you move the pages back to the date of your father’s death, as well as the days before that.

as you’re caught up with doing so, you momentarily forget the first rule of breaking into a forbidden space: never turn your back to a door when you should be watching it.

“you know, i’m starting to think you agreeing to be my date came with ulterior motives on your side.” you suddenly hear mingyu’s voice behind you, at which you turn around, looking a bit too guilty for comfort.

your voice almost gets caught up in your throat, but you keep your composure. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t plan this.”

“it’s alright.” he responds, closing the door behind him smoothly, as if he doesn’t want you to see it. “you still think i had something to do with your father’s death, don’t you?”

“i’m not sure. i don’t see why you would, now that you’ve given me the inheritance. what other motive could you have?”

all mingyu does is clench his jaw at the rhetorical question. then he snaps out of it, his eyes trailing to the desk you’re currently leaning on. he takes a few steps closer to you, and you raise a brow, waiting in anticipation what he’ll do.

his face is suddenly very close to yours, and you’re almost convinced he’s leaning in to touch you when he reaches for the drawer behind you instead. “well, as a matter of fact, i did have something to show you.”

that surprises you.

“your father always carried a little red notebook with him. it’s the only part of the inheritance i didn’t give you, solely because i wanted to show you myself. there’s a few strange scribblings in it, with locations and numbers, and look at this—” he opens it up in front of you, pointing at the paper with his index finger, “apparently he felt like he was being followed just days before he died. maybe the police is right and he did get murdered.”

“yeah, i already figured he probably pissed off the wrong guy.” when he looks at you hopefully, you shrug. “what?”

“we should check it out, right? find out who killed him.”

you immediately shake your head at his suggestion. “no.”

mingyu’s whole body language changes, genuine confusion overtaking his features. “what do you mean, no?”

“he was caught up in all kinds of shit, things i never wanted to be a part of. that’s no different now that he’s six feet under.”

“are you not the slightest bit curious who killed him?”

“frankly, no, i’m not. i’d say whoever is guilty did me a favor.”

despite your valid point, he persists. “okay, then how about this — what if this person would come after you for whatever reason? don’t you want to know who you’re dealing with?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “why do you care so much, mingyu? i’m sure this is something you could manage on your own.”

the sudden question surprises him, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m not sure why. but i do. and you know i did care for him.”

“why don’t you just let the police handle it?”

“because they don’t know this world — and we have access to places, people they wouldn’t even know where to find or how to deal with. have you talked to the detectives? they’re amateurs.” he answers, pausing before taking a step closer to you. “he’s dead either way, doing a small bit of research might be interesting. who knows what you might find.”

“and you wanna do this with me of all people because...?”

he rolls his eyes at the question. “you were the only other person directly affected by it. c’mon, am i really so bad that you can’t even deal with me for a little while?”

the fact that you just give him a deadpan stare tells him all he needs to know.

it makes you bite your lip. you don’t feel like doing this at all, certainly not with mingyu of all people, but he appears to be ready to do this with or without you.

besides, you do feel up for a little adventure.

“fine, i’ll bite. hypothetically, what if i were interested in finding out who killed him?”

the young man in front of you tilts his head. “then i’d suggest we work together and do some digging.”

pursing your lips, you watch his pleased expression when he notices you’re actually considering it. “why do i feel like i’m gonna regret this?”

“maybe you will. maybe you won’t. we can go right back to hating eachother after this, but for now, we’ll be partners. deal?”

your eyes linger on the hand he’s stretched out to you, and even as you’re hesitant to take it, he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

with a sigh, you shake his hand. “okay. deal.”

v. PARTNERS IN CRIME

“for someone so organized, he sure as hell has a lot of unnecessary shit lying around here.” mingyu mutters, searching through the drawers of the cupboard.

you scoff in agreement. “tell me about it.”

the two of you are rummaging through your father’s study in your home in an attempt to find anything interesting as to what he might’ve been up to the past few years.

so far, you’ve had zero luck with it.

you already figured there’d probably be nothing of interest here, but mingyu insisted, said it would be stupid not to. so here you are.

“you know, i’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t be as stupid as to just leave traces of his criminal affiliations lying around in his study.”

mingyu shrugs while simultaneously looking into a drawer. “you never know.”

“he may have been an asshole, but he was a smart one.” you mumble to yourself as you go through the little notebook mingyu just handed you a few minutes ago.

he watches you with curiosity. “can i ask you something?”

without looking up at him, you give him a rather direct response. “i’m sure you’ll ask me regardless of my answer to that question.”

ever so indifferent, he thinks. if anything, one thing about you he is actually fond of is your unfiltered attitude. more people should be like that. “you said you’d never forgive me for what i did to you."

hearing those words makes you look up at him. you’re surprised he’s taking an approach this straightforward with you. “i know what i said.”

“is there nothing i can do to at least make things more civil between us?”

god, you’re sick of him already.

instead of outright telling him you hate him more than anyone else you know, you cross your arms over your chest and fire a question right back at him. “why do you want things to be different between us? don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over it, now.”

mingyu pauses a moment before he answers you. “i thought about the things you said, when you were upset with me, and i realized i’ve made your life harder without having intended to do so. and yeah, i am losing sleep over it.”

while he does appear earnest, you don’t exactly trust him, so all you do is shrug your shoulders.

he wants to say something right when his phone rings. once he picks up, you figure it must be something business-related, judging by the tone of his voice and formal language.

an apology directed at you leaves his mouth as soon as he’s hit the red button on his screen. “i’m sorry. an important business meeting was moved and i promised my mom i’d be there.”

you’ve met mingyu’s mother a few times, at events. she’s the ceo of a very prominent hotel business. many of the highest ranked hotels around the world are under her care, and she clearly knows what she’s doing, since her business has been thriving for many years at this point. you remember it was her who took over as ceo after mingyu’s father passed in a car accident when he was younger.

“then you better get going.” you tell him, your face not pulling a single muscle. you hope he didn’t think you were going to ask him to stay.

he nods at your words, taking the jacket with his initials embroidered in the tag and slinging it over his arm. “yeah. i’ll call you.” he says, going out the doorway, yet your voice makes him halt in his tracks.

“mingyu.” you say his name to him, an unfamiliar feeling on your tongue, and he turns to look back at you.

he awaits your words, catching the subtle warning in your eyes as you refer back to the question of his you had yet to answer.

“we may be working together now — call us associates, or even partners in crime — but once this is over, we’ll go right back to strangers. let’s just keep this… somewhat professional.”

you find he can be surprisingly hard to read from time to time, for a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. after blankly staring at you for a few seconds, processing the words, he just offers you a little smile and a gentle response. “okay.”

and he walks off, only leaving you more intrigued than before.

for two days, it’s complete radio silence from mingyu. all he asked you over text was if you’d been able to find anything in the study, to which you replied with a simple no. he didn’t say anything else.

you sincerely thought this whole investigation of yours wasn’t actually gonna lead to anything, that it was useless — until now.

it’s eleven o’clock, dark outside, the metronome ticking in the background of your living room as your eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop.

you just got a notification from the bank that someone made a significant withdrawal from one of your father’s bank accounts, one that still needs to be signed over to your name.

question is, who the fuck has access to your father’s bank account besides you?

no one. supposedly.

staring at mingyu’s contact in your phone, you twist your lips, unsure of whether to call him about this or not.

going against your gut, you press on his phone number and wait for him to answer the call.

nothing.

for good measure, you call him a second time. same result.

then it hits you. you spoke to wonwoo last night — he mentioned something about him and mingyu going out together this evening.

wonwoo, thankfully, does pick up his phone. “hey. what’s up?”

“hey. are you with mingyu right now?”

“yeah, why?”

“where are you?”

“uh—” he stutters out an address in the middle of the city, clearly confused by the urgency in your voice. “what’s going on? what do you need mingyu for?”

“well, it’s hard to explain. anyway, i’m coming over.”

“he’s kind of—”

you quickly interrupt him by hanging up. taking your wallet and car keys, you head out. the address wonwoo’s given you is located in the club scene downtown, and you make it there in no-time with the navigation on your phone.

parking your car across the block, you get out and check your phone, heading to wherever wonwoo and mingyu currently are. you usually tend to go for the clubs at the other side of the city, as the vibe feels a little different here, but you’ve been around the neighborhood a couple times, so it’s not entirely unfamiliar to you.

when you arrive at the club, you catch the sight of your friend leaning against the stone wall outside.

jeon wonwoo, all handsome in his expensive jacket and sleek shoes, looks surprised when he notices you of all people coming up to him, even though you told him you were coming. his voice is soft when he greets you. “hey. you gonna tell me what exactly you’re doing here?”

shrugging your shoulders, you put your hands in the pockets of your black coat. “you said you were here with mingyu. i gotta talk to him.”

“right now?”

taking note of his baffled reaction, you tilt your head to the side. “yes, right now. i don’t care if he’s occupied.”

wonwoo brings a cigarette to his lips, pushing the pair of dark-rimmed glasses higher up his nose. “what’s going on with you and him, anyway? i thought you hated each other.”

“we still do.”

“well, something’s changed.”

“believe me, wonwoo, i don’t like him any more than he likes me.”

all he does is narrow his dark eyes at you.

just when you want to open the backdoor to the club, wonwoo stops you. “you do know what kind of establishment this place is, right?”

frowning at him, you open the door just the slightest bit to check whatever he’s getting at, and once you catch sight of the pink and red lights, sensual music and metal poles attached to the ceiling, you momentarily close the door again.

right. this must be one of those clubs that are hidden from the prying eyes of non-customers, to give the illusion there’s nothing going on behind these walls, giving the rich clients some privacy in their activities.

you roll your eyes. “when you said you were going to the club, i didn’t think you meant a strip club.”

“i was about to tell you when you hung up on me.”

“so why are you out here and not in there with him?”

“because i wanted to smoke and he felt like heading into a more secluded space. with company, no doubt.”

oh, this is gonna be fun. since kim mingyu pretty much ruined your life, the very least you can do in return is ruin his night. you briefly chuckle to yourself. “alright. well, have fun smoking.”

“you’re still going in?” he calls after you, and all you can do is scoff.

“you think i care whether kim mingyu’s gonna have a good time or not?”

“forget i asked.” he responds, the hint of a smile tugging at his facial features. “i’ll wait here ‘til you get back.”

you shoot him a knowing smirk before stepping into the club. remaining in the background, you scan the area to see if there’s a glimpse of him somewhere.

at the other side of the bar, a man seems to be on watch in front of a separate hallway, so you figure that’s where the jackpot is.

not bothering to look back at the bartender, whose gaze trails after you, you head over to where you need to be, which is where you’re stopped in your path, as expected.

“these are occupied private rooms, ma’am.” a bouncer tells you.

“look, sir, i…” you begin, coming up with some bullshit excuse to get past him, “i’m pretty sure i saw my boyfriend just go in here with a dancer. all i want is a confirmation, i’m not looking to start drama.”

before the man can respond, you wordlessly hold up a small stack of hundred dollar bills between your index and middle finger, waiting for him to take the bribe.

works like a charm wherever you go.

his demeanor changes once he sees the money. “what’s he look like?”

“tall, dark medium-long hair, brown eyes, pretty handsome — though that’s probably subjective.” you shrug, adding a little fake smile to it. you can get far in life with a little charm and money.

the few generic features seem to be enough for the bouncer to know who you’re talking about. he takes the money from your hand, pointing his finger at one of the more secluded rooms in the back.

“go for room number six.” he says, stepping to the side so you can pass him.

thanking him, you head into the back, the heels of your ankle boots clicking against the floor.

the rooms have their matching numbers on neon signs above them. your eyes curiously take in everything they see, but all rooms grant the people in them privacy with the use of frosted glass.

once you’ve made it to the room with the number six on the sign, you take a breath while your hand rests on the handle.

you enter the room soundlessly. the broad space is dimly lit with its soft lights, a mixture of yellow, pink and red almost convincing you that this place is a mere fever dream.

mingyu is seated on the velvet red couch, his legs spread with a girl in skimpy lingerie dancing between them.

yet his eyes are on you.

with his head tilted down, he looks up at you from beneath his lowered brows, peering right past the bare hips of the girl as if she’s not dancing in front of him at all.

you catch a hint of intrigue in his features. he reaches inside his pocket to hand a small stack of money to the dancer in the exact same way you did with the bouncer only a minute before, and the girl leaves you to your privacy.

“hello to you, too.” he says, not bothering to move a single muscle as he remains on the soft couch.

“next time, answer your damn phone.” you scold him, staring him down with the coldest glare you can muster, and mingyu’s not sure why, but he relishes in it. it doesn’t happen often that someone treats him like this.

“i was occupied.” he casually answers, his hand running through his dark locks.

“well, not anymore.” you grin, handing him your phone to show the photo of the bank transcripts. “apparently, my dead father just took fifty grand out of his account.”

mingyu furrows his brows at the screen. “where?”

“all the way at the other side of the city. question is, who else has access to his account, aside from me?”

“we should go and check the footage.” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and he finally gets up, towering over you again. “i know someone who’s with the municipal authorities, i’ll make the call.”

“right now?” you ask, referring to how deep into the night it is, at which he raises his brow.

“yes, right now. this is the best clue we’ve come across so far. don’t you agree?”

“i do. i just thought you cared more about, y’know, being occupied.” you emphasise the last words with a waving hand, gesturing to the girl that was previously dancing on him, and his flirtatious nature comes right back to him as if it never left.

“why? wanna give me a show before we leave?” he smirks, getting closer, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you, to see what’s lurking underneath your closed-off persona.

fine. both of you can play this game, you think to yourself. “what, are the girls here not enough to get you off?”

“is that a yes?”

“why would you want a lap dance from a girl you can’t stand? i may not like you, mingyu, but i didn’t think you’d stoop so low to go after any woman with a pulse.”

“i feel flattered,” he smiles, eyes trailing down to your exposed collarbones, finding it ridiculously hot in here, “and i don’t particularly like you, either, but we both know you’re gorgeous. besides, i’ve seen you dance at chan’s club. you looked good.”

his honesty almost stuns you in your place. you didn’t think he held that kind of physical attraction towards you, yet it makes you feel good — because you think he’s fucking hot, too.

such a shame that he’s an asshole.

but still, there’s no time to dwell on his words. you have a reputation to uphold and a murder to solve, after all.

so you lean in, whispering your decision. “in your dreams.”

jesus, mingyu thinks, do you even remotely know how much sex appeal you have? it makes him beyond impulsive. “did you know studies have shown that sleeping with someone you can’t stand is arguably the best thing ever?”

you sarcastically reply to him with the exact same tone. “did you know you’d be so much more bearable if you just kept your mouth shut?”

“what? it’s part of my charm.” is all he says in return, snickering a little over your response, and you merely roll your eyes.

“we’ve got a different idea of charm, then.”

“okay, fair enough.” he shrugs, still maintaining the minimal distance between your bodies. “so what do you find charming? i’m dying to know, really.”

“i like men who don’t feel the need to pay for a woman’s touch.” the reply comes fast and sharp as a blade. “i hope you pay them generously, since they have to put up with you out of all people.”

“she didn’t touch me, though. it’s a strip club, not a brothel.”

“how noble of you.” you humorlessly chuckle at him, attitude turning more playful.

“mhm.” mingyu nods his head, the rest of his words sounding lower and suave. “tell me more. c’mon, i’m curious. i gotta know my partner’s preferences, right?”

the look you give your current partner is something. you decide to indulge him this once, face inching closer to his, just to keep things interesting. “i want someone who won’t hold me back. someone who will accept me for who i am — uninhibited.”

there’s something you can’t quite place flashing behind his eyes. it’s close to intrigue, but more intense, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen it in anyone else’s eyes before.

“good to know.” he breathes out, as if your words stole his breath, and you come to the realization that maybe, there’s more to kim mingyu than you thought.

now that he seems to be pretty much speechless, you raise your shoulders. “so, are we heading out or should i tell the dancer to come back in?”

he stutters out a reply, and you find it funny how his attitude is constantly going back and forth between a flustered mess and the most confident guy in the room.

once you’ve returned to the backdoor where you got in, you see wonwoo is still outside, his cigarette put out on the ashtray beside him.

“you leaving?” wonwoo asks, waiting for either of you to answer.

“yeah. duty calls.” mingyu replies while putting his jacket on.

for what it’s worth, wonwoo is actually a dear friend of yours, and one of the few people you show physical affection to, so you give him a kiss on the cheek before walking off. “catch you later, okay?”

he nods, catching mingyu curiously watching the exchange, and when you walk off with him, wonwoo notices him put his hand on your lower back, which you proceed to swat away.

a mere twenty minutes later, you and mingyu are seated in your car in an empty parking lot, looking at a screen displaying street security footage of the bank where the withdrawal was made earlier tonight.

mingyu’s friend seungkwan, who works for the authorities, sent you the footage, and as you’re looking it over, he’s on the phone explaining his observations. “he was wearing a mask and a cap, so we couldn’t recognize him. the car he drove has a license plate that doesn’t match, so likely stolen. he drove from a nearby parking garage to the bank, withdrew the cash, got back in the car and then parked it right here, about six blocks further, in the business district.”

the building the car is parked across is one you’d recognize any time of day. it’s where your father’s main office is — or was — one of the places he never allowed you to get into, or anyone for that matter. it was the only place where he got the peace and quiet he wanted.

you turn your head to glance at mingyu, giving him a knowing look. “that’s where my father’s main office is.”

“you think the guy’s gonna try to break in?”

“if he got his hands on the passcodes and proceeds to wait before the building he always worked in, then yeah, i do.”

you nod in agreement, because he makes a fair point. mingyu looks at the worried expression on your face and decides you’ve gathered enough information now.

he thanks seungkwan and tells him bye before hanging up, then turning his focus to you. “whoever that guy is, if he’s planning on breaking in, we gotta beat him to it.”

“you wanna break into an office on the seventh floor located in a building that neither of us are allowed into? they won’t even let us pass the front desk. i know because i’ve tried.”

he shakes his head. “trust me — we’ll find a way in. i’ve got an idea, but it’s not gonna be easy.”

vi. WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I

the following days are spent analyzing and memorizing blueprints, tracking the people entering and exiting the building and checking security in the hope of finding some kind of loophole in the system.

trying to get in through the front door is too risky, so you’ve opted for the roof instead, because there’s several buildings so closeby that you can get into either of the buildings next to it and reach it from there. you’ll get in with a classic heist movie tactic you pray works in real life as well.

ventilation shafts.

so now, you’re both in dark and practical clothing to attempt breaking in. because your plan is mediocre at best.

as you watch from the rooftop of a currently unoccupied office building nearby with a binocular, you face-palm yourself the moment you notice the security set-up is different than anticipated with the blueprints, meaning the ventilation shafts are most likely not accessible. “well, fuck.”

“what’s wrong?”

you hand the binocular to mingyu, and he mimics your previous actions, huffing in annoyance when he sees it too. “shit. what do we do now?”

“nothing.”

“what?”

“our plan was already risky enough, but now that we pretty much don’t even have a way in, we’d be stupid to try. we only have a fifteen-minute window before a security guard comes up the roof again.”

“that’s plenty.”

“it would be, for like — a swat team. we’re amateurs. at this, anyway.”

“speak for yourself.”

“oh, i’m sorry, have you done anything remotely on this scale before?”

“well… no.”

pinching the bridge of your nose, you roll your eyes to yourself. “we should’ve brought wonwoo.”

mingyu is quick to respond with a sarcastic comment. “and tell him what, exactly? ‘hey, we need your help breaking into one of the best-guarded buildings in the city so we can snoop around and try to find a clue leading to a killer’?”

“well, i don’t know if you’ve noticed, gyu, but we quite literally have no other options.”

“we could always try the front door. you’re still his daughter, they might let you in.”

“i really hope that wasn’t an actual suggestion, because if it was, it would highly diminish the idea i have of your intelligence.”

“is this your way of telling me you think i’m smart?”

“well, currently, i think you’re being an idiot, so no.” you retort, stealing the binocular out of his hand again. “god, i’m starting to respect criminals. this shit is difficult to navigate around.”

mingyu chuckles as he adjusts the black baseball cap on his head. “there has to be another way. maybe we could—”

“—get in through an open window.” you interrupt, handing the device over to him. “you see the glass window in the roof of his office? it looks like it’s ajar.”

once he sees it too, he tilts his head. “it’s almost too easy. it’d have to open manually, otherwise we’re screwed.”

you can only shrug. “it’s only a modern interior on the inside, the building itself is older, so the odds might be on our side. besides, it’s worth a shot, right?”

“can’t argue with that.” he agrees, checking the other buildings around to figure out the best approach.

you watch him as he’s distracted. he’s fully going for the whole partners-in-crime thing you’ve got going on with him, yet a part of you is still unsure what his motives might be.

but for now, you’ll just focus on the task at hand.

every fifteen minutes, a security guard comes up to the roof, checks everything, stays for a minute or two and leaves again. you’ve been keeping track of it. as soon as the one currently on duty closes the door to the staircase behind him, heading back down, you both start a silent timer on your watches, getting to work.

one thing you discover doing said task is that jumping from roof to roof is really not as easy as they make it seem in the movies. if anything, it’s pretty scary, even if they are relatively close to eachother.

the jump from the last building to the one you need to be on top of has the biggest gap, and mingyu takes a solid leap, landing ever so gracefully.

you shuffle your feet for a moment, making the mistake of looking down. mingyu notices your hesitation and tries to encourage you the best he can. “it looks scary, but it’s a relatively easy jump. i swear. that’s gotta mean something coming from a person with a fear of heights.”

clenching your fists, you try to steady your breathing. “don’t you lie to me, kim.”

there’s something strangely charming about you using his last name whenever you’re scolding him. “c’mon. i’ve always thought you were fearless. you’re not gonna diminish the idea i have of you, right?”

curse him for using your words against you like that.

clenching your fists, you bite your lip, the worst case scenario going through your head over and over.

“just go back a couple steps. steady your breathing, and then you run. okay?”

you don’t respond to his words but do as he says anyways. the jump isn’t even that far, you’re just afraid of tripping.

but you won’t go out embarrassing yourself in front of kim mingyu. your pride is too strong for that.

so you take a deep breath and make a run for it, jumping over the gap and landing on top of the other roof, far away from the edge. mingyu laughs triumphantly. “good job.”

“thanks.” you smile as he helps you up to your feet, and you dust off your jacket, proud of yourself for going through with it.

the two of you walk over to the glass window, and you kneel down, inspecting the lock. thank fuck — it’s so simple that all you have to do is click it open. you’re guessing they probably thought the security walking around was enough.

with your hands covered in gloves, you wiggle them through the gap and crack it open, after which mingyu takes the lead. he lets himself drop into the office silently, looking up at you as a gesture for you to follow him.

you attempt to do the same as him, but you figure he must have strong arm muscles, because you’re barely able to hold yourself up the way he can. he notices your struggle and moves to stand underneath you.

“just let go. i’ll catch you.”

“are you sure?”

he nods, his arms up as if he’s waiting for you to jump right into them. “yeah, yeah. i got you.”

not entirely convinced, you try to drop onto the floor in a way you can still hold yourself up, but mingyu proves himself true to his word when he catches you as easily as drawing his next breath. he looks you in the eye while he has you in his arms, his senses feeling heightened as your clothed skin touches with his.

then you tap on his shoulder, and he lets go of you.

the office is bigger than anticipated. the moonlight from outside is bright enough for you to not need a flashlight, so that’s beneficial.

mingyu is awfully quick on his feet for someone as tall and bulky as him. he’s quiet in every step he takes, which is useful in a situation like this.

while he begins to look through a bunch of drawers, you open cabinet after cabinet, going through some documents that don’t really contain anything interesting.

you turn to look at the desk and the painting on the wall behind it. it’s nothing spectacular — your father never had much of an appreciation for art, so you find it strange he’d even have it up here.

out of sheer curiosity, you try to check if there’s a secret stash behind the painting like in those crime movies.

you have to refrain from laughing when your eyes fall onto the safe in the wall. “hey. gyu.”

he turns around, his entire demeanor changing when he sees what you’ve found. “you’re kidding.”

the safe has a surprisingly easy system. it has four dials, so you need a code with four numbers to get access to whatever’s inside. you change the dials to your birth year for fun, but naturally, it doesn’t work. hell, mingyu’s birth year might have a better shot.

while you try out every combination you can think of, mingyu gets the little notebook out of his pocket — the one that was part of your father’s inheritance. he flips to one of the last pages. “try 9-3-6-8.”

going with his suggestion, you rotate the dials until they have the right numbers, and you hear a click. blinking a few times, you turn the small crank wheel beside the dials and open the safe.

there’s not much inside in terms of quantity, but the things that are in there are no joke.

two gold ingots, a stack of files and a loaded handgun with a silencer attached to it.

“what the fuck was he up to?” mingyu asks rhetorically, inspecting the pistol with care, and you shrug, grabbing the files to put them into the bag you took with you.

“i don’t know, but we should hurry up. we can look at whatever all this is later. clock’s ticking.”

he figures you make a good point, so you hold out your bag, and he puts all of the safe’s contents into it.

you’re both scared to death when you suddenly hear voices coming from the other side of the door. you immediately zip up your bag and close the safe back up, putting the painting right back in front of it.

footsteps come approaching your direction, and you realize you don’t have enough time to get back out of the office without being caught red-handed, so you’ll have to find a place to hide.

just as you’re about to go sit underneath the desk, mingyu doesn’t hesitate to grab you by your hand and pull you against his body, both of you hiding in the small gap between the bookcase and the wall, which is right next to the door.

you almost jump in your place when the door is opened by a security guard, and mingyu puts his hand over your mouth to make sure the guard doesn’t hear you.

thankfully, you’re hidden right behind the door now that it’s opened, but your heart is fucking pounding as your chest is pressed against mingyu’s, and all you can focus on is him.

he’s suffocatingly close to you.

the situation forces you to look at him so closely — like never before. your attention trails down from his dark eyes to the litte mole on the bottom of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the glimpse you catch of the silver chain adorning his collarbones.

it’s the first time you see how big of a man he is. he’s been working out a lot in the past few years, with considerable results — standing this close to him highlights the contrast between his frame and yours.

the footsteps leave the office not long after, and the door closes. you’re finally able to breathe properly when he releases his palm from your mouth, and you inhale and exhale deeply.

“you alright?”

“yeah. that was just — scary.” you respond, cracking a little smile.

he nods, neither of you really moving in your places yet. “you can let go of me, y’know.” mingyu whispers, sounding entirely unconvincing, and you frown before looking to your hand that’s apparently been clutching his jacket this whole time.

“oh, yeah. sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he assures you, pointing to the ceiling. “we should probably head back.”

you agree and sling the bag over your shoulders, on your back. he gets onto the desk first so he can climb out the same window you used to get in, and once he’s gotten up the roof again, he extends his hand to you so he can pull you up.

it doesn’t go smoothly. he’s a little clumsy, but he manages, so you take a breather once you’ve made it out of the office with him. you close the window in the exact position it was before you opened it, and you make it to the safety of the rooftop where you started just twenty minutes ago.

as you quickly go down the stairs of the abandoned building to reach the ground floor, he laughs triumphantly. “holy fucking shit. i can’t believe we actually pulled that off.”

you smile at him with adrenaline still rushing through you, heart still pounding in your chest when you realize what you just did.

and honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever felt that… alive.

a mere fifteen minutes later, you’re seated in a half-empty diner with him. he’s across from you in the booth, elbows on the table as he fiddles with his fingers.

while he looks around the place, you take the files you found in the safe out of your bag so you can look them over.

as your eyes fall onto the first page, you frown.

mingyu notices your gaze. “what’s wrong?”

you switch to the other file folders before scoffing to yourself, realization hitting you. “you gotta be fucking kidding me. they’re tabs he kept on the people around him. the staff at home, his driver... even me. and you. well, looks like he didn’t trust you completely.”

before he can even reply to the subtle dig, you slide the folder with his name on it across the table, and he opens it up, noticing a huge chunk of information on him neatly stashed away in separate documents. there’s even candids there that must’ve been made by a private investigator.

“i knew he was paranoid, but this takes the cake.” you mutter, and you throw the folders back into your bag, and mingyu hands you his so you can take it as well.

“well, this sucks.” he sighs. “those files aren’t of much use, so now we’re back to square one.”

you tilt your head. “that’s not entirely true. we might be able to check where the gun came from, or whose name it’s registered under.”

mingyu hums, lifting the cup to his mouth, whispering a compliment, not really expecting for you to hear it. “smart girl.”

with your bag zipped up and everything off the table again, it’s quiet between you and mingyu for a moment.

“god, i’m starving.” he says as you wait for your food to arrive, and where he’s slightly fidgeting in his place, you sit completely still, looking at him with a frown. once he catches your gaze, he raises a brow at you. “what?”

“do you do this often?”

“eating in a cheap diner?”

“trespassing. breaking in. illegal activities. whatever you wanna call it.”

he shrugs. “occasionally. keeps life interesting, y’know?”

the casualness in his attitude makes you scoff. “sure.”

“you don’t agree?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“no, but then again, you don’t really say much at all.” he says bluntly. he doesn’t mean it as an offensive statement in the slightest, but it would’ve probably sounded better if worded differently.

for a moment, he thinks his impulsivity must’ve upset you, seeing as you remain silent for a moment.

then you laugh at him. the sound is completely new to him, yet strangely soothing to his ears.

“you’re bold, i’ll give you that.” you snicker before taking a sip of your coke. “but i assume you don’t have an issue with people who are on the quieter side, since you’re besties with wonwoo and all.”

mingyu mimics your facial expressions. “yeah, i prefer being around quieter people more. but i didn’t—it came out wrong. i meant, you don’t really, like... show who you are. if that makes sense. even back when we were in high school, you were like a mystery. you still are, to me.”

“is this what this whole partnering-up thing is about? you wanting to unravel the mystery about me? because if it is, i’ll give you credit for the creativity.”

mingyu tilts his head. “well, it’s a little more nuanced than that.”

“if you wanted to get to know me, why didn’t you try years ago?”

“have you met you?”

you roll your eyes. he smirks at you, enjoying your company quite a lot, anticipating whatever it is you’ll say in response.

“you wanna know something, mingyu?”

“yeah.”

“you’re telling me i’m the mysterious one, but i’d say that’s you.”

his playfulness falters a bit, and he shows his confusion instead. “me?”

“mhm. you’re popular, good-looking, charming, all of that — and i think you’ve got layers to yourself that no one even knows about. characteristics no one would ever dare imagine when they think of you.”

his breath hitches in his throat. “why do you think that?”

twisting your lips into a pout, you put your drink back down on the table. “wouldn’t be any fun if i outright told you, would it?”

mingyu narrows his eyes at you. you just shrug, as if to tell him he’ll figure it out, if he’s smart enough.

and he welcomes the challenge.

“okay.” he smiles, biting his lip when he leans back in his seat. “but, hypothetically — what if you’re wrong about me? what if i don’t have those layers you’re talking about?”

you eye him up and down, remaining quiet with your arms crossed over your chest. you’ve always had that attitude. like you know more than everyone else, as if you’re the smartest person in the room. usually, you are. and yet you’re never smug about it, unless someone challenges you to be — you’re always calm, cool, collected. stoic. the fact that wonwoo of all people called you an ice princess years ago says enough.

“i’d be sorely disappointed.”

“so you have high expectations of me?”

“in a way, perhaps. though you’ll have to work a little harder to impress me.”

“tonight wasn’t enough?”

“it was a start. we still loathe eachother, remember?”

“right. i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

sure, you and kim mingyu hate one another, but he still makes you smile the most anyone has in ages, and you make him feel more alive than anyone else has.

vii. FRIENDS CLOSE, ENEMIES CLOSER

“i’ve got bad news.” you say, tapping your nails on the coffee table in your living room as you have mingyu on speaker.

“okay. do tell.”

“the gun isn’t registered, so we pretty much only have the files as evidence.”

“yeah. i doubt your father put those files together himself, since they seem like the work of a professional. we might be smart to seek out the private investigator who gave him the intel.”

you know he hears you sigh at the other end of the line, and your response hardly sound convincing. “yeah, i guess.”

“what’s wrong?”

it’s quiet for a moment. you speak up with a tension rumbling in your chest. “maybe we should just quit, gyu. i don’t feel like what we’re doing is actually going anywhere. we still don’t have a proper lead.”

then it’s his turn to remain silent, and you swear you can hear his breath shudder. “we’ll get there. it just... takes some time.”

“you sound a little too sure of that.”

“i just think it’d be a waste to not continue after the stunt we pulled last week.”

“what’re we gonna be doing next? breaking into the national bank?”

“something tells me you’d find that exciting.”

well, shit. have you become so transparent that kim mingyu of all people can tell the truth about you?

“maybe i would.” you grumble like a child admitting defeat.

the sound of his laughter echoes through the phone. it subconsciously brings a small smile to your face.

“look, i have a meeting ‘til five. i can come by after to brainstorm about things, pick up some food on the way. are you free tonight?”

“yeah. text me when you’re on the way here.”

“yes, ma’am.” he jests, saying he’s got to go before hanging up. it leaves you to stare at your phone for a minute. a past version of yourself would never believe it if you said mingyu would ever get close to you in the way he has over the past two months. it’s been a strange time. it’s come to the point you’re pretty sure you don’t even hate him as much as you used to.

maybe you don’t even hate him at all anymore. maybe.

but something about admitting that to yourself feels scary, so you put your thoughts elsewhere while secretly looking forward to having him come over again.

it’s a quarter past five when he sends you a message, letting you know he’s picked up the food and on the way to your house, and a mere twenty minutes later, you and him are seated in the lounge on the first floor as he tells you about his day — all while shoving a dumpling into his mouth.

what interrupts you, however, is the noise of your doorbell. mingyu frowns instantly, and you mimic his expression, because you weren’t expecting any more company. “who’s that?”

“no idea.” you shrug, so you get up from your seat, jogging down the stairs with mingyu following you, simultaneously chewing the food in his mouth.

checking the screen beside the door that’s connected to the doorbell, you notice a familiar face standing outside.

“isn’t he the main detective on the investigation?” mingyu asks rhetorically, his body language changing to something more stiff. “what is he doing here?”

“good question. i certainly didn’t invite him, but the guy at the front gate probably told him i was home. fuck — you have to hide.”

“hide? why?”

because the detective thinks you still hate mingyu, so seeing him here would make your story hardly plausible. “because he can’t see you, obviously. get upstairs and stay there. i’ll distract him.” 

“are you sure?”

“yeah, so go!” you push him back with your hands on his chest, and he seems hesitant to leave you by yourself, but he eventually jogs up the stairs again to get out of sight.

the inspector smiles only as a formality. you do the same. you haven’t spoken to him since you indirectly accused him of being an asshole, a while before your father’s funeral.

“good evening. i hope i haven’t come at a bad time. may i come in?”

“i have to take a business call soon, actually, so another time would be—”

“i won’t be long. i assume you’d like to have an update on the investigation?”

well, fuck. he’s got you there, so you’re forced to let him in, but you don’t let him wonder and gesture for him to sit down in the living room, on the couch. you move to take the seat directly across from him to ensure his focus is on you, instead of on the huge staircase behind him.

“am i still at the top of your list?” you ask. when the man tries to find the right words to respond, you scoff, filling in the blanks. of course you still are. “but you have no evidence.” 

“it’s not about evidence — moreso the lack thereof. i’m stuck with two people who each have a solid motive, an alibi that’s far from foolproof, and an important tie to the victim. you cannot deny that.” 

“is this another interrogation? because this is all off-record.”

“not an interrogation. i was just wondering something — back when i spoke to you last, before your father’s funeral, i asked what you could tell me about kim mingyu, your father’s former associate.” hearing him say his name makes you anxious, yet you pull every possible muscle to hide it. “you spoke of him as if he were the devil himself. you clearly hated him, perhaps more than you hated your father.”

“and?”

he pulls something from the inside of his jacket, and you discover they’re a few candids, photos taken of you with mingyu while out in the city. well, that’s just fucking great. you’re gonna have to make use of your top-notch acting skills here.

“i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me asking why you’re suddenly seeing someone you claim to hate as much as you do.”

the blankness of your face dissolves as you adapt a more playful and sassy persona. “you came all the way to my home for this? a few photos?”

“a few photos of my two main suspects together for a reason i cannot think of, yes.”

“you can’t think of a single thing? really? no offense, but i was under the impression you were at least a little clever.”

the man stares at you as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. that can only mean one thing — he’s falling for your act.

what an idiot.

you lean forward in your place, the dry smile remaining on your face. “i fucked him. several times, actually.”

he narrows his eyes at your statement. “i thought you told me you hated him.”

“oh, i do. but a good hate-fuck is the best way to release some frustration. you should try it sometime.” the sound of your voice is monotonous as you utter the words in one go.

“i’ll keep it in mind.” he sarcastically responds with a fake smile, and you copy his body language, pleased to see you’ve made him somewhat uncomfortable.

he clearly wants to change the subject, but you don’t feel like continuing this conversation any longer. “if you’ll excuse me, i really have more pressing matters, so i trust you can see yourself out.”

the inspector huffs a bit, but he knows better than to overstay his welcome. he wordlessly allows you to let you walk him to the door before turning around. “i hope you know who you’re dealing with. not everyone is who they say they are.”

leaving you confused, he looks at you a moment, proceeding to walk out your front door, after which you close it. did he know more than he was willing to let on? what a strange visit.

when you finally decide to turn around, you see mingyu standing in the middle of the stairs, looking a little baffled, at which you roll your eyes.

“why would you tell him that?”

“would you have preferred it if i told him the truth?”

“would that be so bad?”

you scoff, passing him on the staircase. “see, this is what i mean when i say you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

mingyu follows you back up to the lounge. “i’m just saying — maybe it’d make us look less suspicious.”

“it’d do the opposite, gyu. trust me.”

“okay. fine. but out of all the things you could’ve said, why that?”

“well, it made him uncomfortable, making it easier to get him to leave early. and, well… you know what you look like.”

the last sentence really grabs his attention.

“what i look like?” he repeats, knowing damn well what you’re getting at, but he’s eager to hear you spell it out for him.

“well, you’re somewhat good-looking. it’s one of your few strong points, actually.”

“so you think i’m hot?”

“didn’t quite say that.”

“no, but you implied it.”

“not really. you may be conventionally handsome, gyu, but attraction is a whole different thing.”

“oh, c’mon. admit it. i’m willing to, so…”

“do i need to remind you i said we’d keep things professional? which you agreed to.”

“god, you’re so tough.”

“part of my charm. maybe that’s why you like me so much.”

“i never said i liked you.”

“no, you didn’t have to.” you scoff, laughing at him, and mingyu feels the corners of his lips curling up — because you’re right.

then, as you plop down on the seats in the lounge again, you sigh as you look at the papers scattered across the table.

“you know, it’s been weeks, and we still haven’t got the slightest clue who’s the killer,” you frown, fingers resting on your collarbone, “and if i’m being honest, i doubt we ever will.”

mingyu briefly narrows his eyes at you, proceeding to take his laptop out of his bag. you watch curiously when he silently types away at his keyboard, then turning the device around and clicking on the play button.

suddenly you hear your own voice, and the words — you said those during the interrogations. how the hell did he get his hands on those recordings?

he seems to be able to read your mind. “i’ve got a contact in the force. he sent me the sorted files of everyone who was interrogated. we should probably listen to them, right? after all, we know more about the situation than the detectives.”

blinking a few times, you shrug and nod in agreement, so he increases the volume and presses the button again.

the following two and a half hours are spent listening to the recordings and taking notes of important things. you’re only halfway through them, but doing this the whole time really sucks you dry of energy.

at a certain point, you press the pause button and get up from your seat, moving to the liquor cabinet a few meters away. “you like a good whiskey, right?”

“yeah. how’d you know?”

“i observe and listen. that, and i heard you say it to wonwoo one time.”

he chuckles at your words, watching you take the bottle with two glasses and set it down on the table.

once you’ve poured the liquid into the glass, he takes what you offer him and down it in one go, after which you give him a judgemental stare. “seriously?”

“sorry. had a rough day.”

your gaze softens, and you pour him a second glass as he holds it out. “why?”

“i just… haven’t been feeling great lately. not really sure why.”

well, that’s interesting. “your conscience eating away at you?”

his eyes widen an uncharacteristical amount, and your face is blank for a few moments until you crack a smile. he laughs it off, squeezing his hands together, which you take notice of.

“guess you could say that. no, i don’t know. my sister’s been stressed and she won’t tell me why, which is odd ‘cause she always comes to me — and my mother’s been overworking herself, and i’m worried for her.”

pursing your lips together, you cast your eyes down for a moment.

for some reason, you feel a sense of repulsiveness whenever mingyu speaks of his family like that. as if it’s a reminder of what you didn’t have.

but you don’t show it.

“sounds tough.” you reply, not intending to sound distant — you just find it difficult to know what to say.

what you fail to recognize is that mingyu sees it. he sees your struggle and the emotions you think are so deeply hidden underneath the surface. they actually are, to be honest, but he’s come to know you and with that the way you hold yourself. and he’s suddenly able to read you better.

you’re made of sharp edges only — broken glass on all sides.

he takes another sip of his drink. you down yours in one go.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

mingyu’s eyes curiously follow your every move, the alcohol in his system making him bolder. “how are you holding up?”

“me? ‘m fine. why do you ask?”

“i think mostly ‘cause i’ve asked you a lot of questions, but not that one.”

the words make you silent for a moment, and you let out a knowing sigh when you realize what he’s getting at. “i told you i was glad he died, gyu.”

“i know. but even if you are, you can still find it difficult to deal with.”

you inhale and exhale slowly, leaning back against the wall for a moment, staring into nothing. “i’m not sad that he’s gone. i never will be. but there’s things i wanted to ask him.”

when you don’t continue, he asks you to. “what things?”

“things about my youth, my mother… hell, maybe even about you.” you shrug, chuckling for a brief moment, but the sound is gone as soon as it came. “but i think, mostly, i’d ask if he saw himself in me.”

mingyu is intrigued by your answer. “why would you wanna know that?”

you shrug, your tiredness contributing to you opening up. “because maybe i’d hear the answer i want to hear, and not the one i currently have. my worst nightmare has always been to turn into him.”

“you won’t be like him.” he tries to tell you, but you shake your head.

“i already am. i hated him to the bone, and yet i act like him, sound like him, handle things like him — because he taught me everything i know. at the end of the day, i am my father’s daughter. there’s no changing that.”

“you’re not a bad person. he was.”

“how would you know? he was nice to you. stand-offish, probably, but nice.”

“you don’t think i had an idea of what kind of person he was? i cared for him, but i knew he could be harsh. i caught some bits and pieces when he… yelled at you after our high school graduation.”

you have an almost visceral reaction as he mentions the incident. your father had yelled at you after the graduation, because the best student of your class got a prize on the big podium, and it wasn’t you. and that as a result made your father angry, because being in the top five wasn’t enough — because it should’ve been you.

it was always supposed to be you.

“why did you even want to be around him at all? if you knew how much of an asshole he was all this time.”

mingyu stares at the wall for a few seconds when he thinks about it. “he came into my life when i needed it the most. but looking back, i feel guilty. i shouldn’t have cared for someone like that.”

“like what?”

“someone that cruel. he didn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, not in any way.”

“can only good people be loved?” you ask in return, and he seems positively surprised at your question.

“you’d find love for a bad person?”

“mingyu.” you say his name in a brief chuckle, and it steals his breath away. “do you think you have that much of a choice over who we love? we don’t. that’s what makes it so complicated.”

he seems to grow increasingly stressed with each thing you say, much to your surprise. “but would you want to love someone like that?”

looking away from him for a moment, you think his words over. “if that person was good to me, and had the same values… yeah, i would. trust me, the few people i care about are no saints, and yet i’d go to hell and back for them.”

“am i on that list too?”

you meet his eyes, and his expression is so beautifully genuine, full of raw emotion you’ve never seen him show before. it’s then that it finally hits you — kim mingyu actually cares about you.

the worst thing is that you just might care about him, too.

so you gently smile at him with a light shrug of your shoulders. “maybe.”

he reciprocates it, his brown eyes blown wide as he gazes at you. “i’m glad. you’re on my list too, y’know.”

“am i?” you tease, and he nods cheerfully, happy to have verbalized his appreciation for you. “well, i didn’t really see it coming, that’s for sure.”

your words bring mingyu’s thoughts back to the death of your father, the rift you accused him of causing between the two of you. a wave of guilt comes flooding in once more.

“look, i… i know you may not believe me, but i genuinely feel sorry for what happened. for taking something from you. despite the things i saw and heard, i really was too stupid to see that your dad treated you as badly as he did.”

staring him right in the eye, you don’t fail to catch the earnestness in them. “it’s alright. you’re not half as much to blame as i’ve tried to make myself believe you were.”

the words intrigue him. “how come?”

swallowing the lump in your throat, you press your lips together. “because he didn’t care about me. he never did. maybe he was different before my mother died, maybe he wasn’t. i wouldn’t know.”

mingyu tries to hold his ground as he watches you get emotional. he remains quiet in his spot next to you.

“can i tell you something?” your voice is hesitant and almost inaudible, like a child who’s trying to tell their parent they did something wrong.

when he silently nods, you continue.

“you wanted to know why i hated you, right? well, i...” you pause in an attempt to find the right words, “i felt invisible to my father. like i didn’t matter — i was treated like nothing more than a tool to improve his businesses. but you... he treated you like a son. like a person. and i spent years trying to figure out what i did wrong and you did right, and i just... i didn’t get it. i still don’t. but whatever it was, i was jealous that you had it and i didn’t. and everyone loved you and praised you, be it our friends or their parents. everyone in our social circle. from my point of view, no one had ever uttered a single bad word about you, and then when my father began to take a liking towards you as well... i just hated you. you were my perfect scapegoat.”

the guilt on his face is clear as day. when he parts his lips, you already know he wants to apologize again, but you shake your head, speaking up first.

because you don’t hate him anymore.

“mingyu, there was nothing for you to take away from me to begin with. long before you were even present in his life, he didn’t care for me either.” with the corners of your lips turned down, you continue. “i did everything he asked. perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect social life. but he didn’t care. it’s not often i say people have no heart, but he just… he just didn’t have one. for his job, perhaps, for his business partners — but not for anyone outside of his work. i just didn’t think that would go for his own child, too.”

you reach for your forehead, trying to take his attention away from your face, running your hand through your hair while blinking your tears away. why are you telling him all this?

but it just feels so good to finally get it all out.

“you did the best you could.” he tells you, and you nod with watery eyes.

“i did. and somehow, none of it mattered.”

when the first heavy sob leaves you, you try to hold it back, not wanting him to see you break down.

he doesn’t let you. he moves to sit next to you and takes you into his arms, and for the first time in however long, you let yourself break. the tears are your acknowledgement of the pain it has caused you over the years, the damage that will never quite heal and always follow you wherever you go.

you’re not sure why you’re falling apart this easily. you hardly ever cry anymore, perhaps a few times a year, and you usually feel strong enough to hold it all back when you’re in front of others, but this time — this time, you just can’t.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. it’s okay. you’re alright. he’s gone now.” he whispers into your ear as comfort. “but you’re not alone. not anymore.”

his heart shatters when he internally makes the comparison between the loving family he grew up in and the lonely, broken family you could hardly call home.

“why wasn’t i enough? why didn’t he like me?” you mutter to yourself, having lost control as you cry into mingyu’s neck, clinging onto his body as your chest aches.

“because he couldn’t. he didn’t have it in him to care for anyone. that says more about him than it does about you.” he responds, gently stroking your hair, even pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and for the first time in a long time, you feel… cared for. like you truly matter to someone.

something that feels scary, perhaps even strange, but good.

mingyu’s big arms cage you into his hold, a comforting feeling. to be honest, you wish you could stay with him like this for the whole night. maybe even longer than that.

he rubs your back, feeling the pain in your chest as if it were his own. he’d take all of it if he could. you were damaged in a way that no one deserves, and seeing how much it still affects you and most likely will in the long term, that tears him apart.

the heavy ache in your chest subsides, yet you still cling onto him. you feel the most at ease you’ve ever been with anyone.

“thank you.” you mumble, giving him a tight hug with you wrapping your arms around him ‘till he’s almost suffocating. “i needed that.”

“anytime.”

you eventually finally come down from your breakdown, body slightly twitching as the last tears silently roll down your cheeks.

with your head in his lap, you lay on your side, closing your eyes for a while as the pain in your chest slowly subsides. he’s still rubbing at your clothed skin, and you’re curious if he’s aware it does wonders for calming you down.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you, gyu. after the funeral.” you speak up, voice still raspy. “i was wrong about you.”

mingyu feels his throat tighten up. “it’s okay. i was wrong about you, too. we have more in common than i initially thought we did.”

you wipe your tears away and move to sit upright, finally feeling confident enough to look him in the eye again. “like what?”

both of you are tired. everything that’s happened the past weeks has definitely been causing some sleepless nights for both of you, and with all the alcohol and emotions running high, you’re both feeling a tad drowsy.

he runs a hand through his dark locks. “this part of society — i think it’s exhausting, a lot of the time. full of noise, small talk that’s supposed to hide how cold half these people are, social pressure, all of that. but here, at home, it’s quiet. maybe a little too quiet. the thing is, i have my friends and family that i care about more than anyone else, but i still feel… hollow. like i’m missing something.”

you nod at him. “you can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.”

“yeah.” he sighs. “do you feel it too?”

“well, i may not have a family, but i have my friends. and they mean so much to me, and i can talk to them if i need to, but… yeah. i feel it too.”

he wonders if you feel the same connection that he’s feeling right now. he’s drawn to you like a damn magnet.

mingyu already knows he’s a goner when he gently puts his hand on your cheek. he feels electrified by your presence, your voice, even the way you look at him.

he needs you.

“maybe we can be lonely together.”

his words are enough for your breath to hitch in your throat. you doubt you’ve ever wanted to have someone as much as you do now.

and so you cross a line you never thought you would and press your lips to his, desperately needing his touch.

the kiss is harsh but slow, as if you’re aching to taste eachother. his hand makes its way to the back of your head, the other on your back to pull you closer to him.

his heart might as well be lurching out of his chest. god, he feels that excitement and nervousness as if he were his teenage self sharing a first kiss with his crush — yet whatever feeling is clouding his mind is something darker and deeper, something that transcends what he can describe with words.

he kisses you like his life depends on it. once you’ve both pulled back to get some air, looking the other straight in the eye, it’s like you’re silently admitting that the relationship you share is more than just being partners.

it’s something that comes alarmingly close to love.

the moment is harshly interrupted when his phone rings. he blinks a few times before rolling his eyes at the timing, as he’s still half on top of you.

you can do nothing but wait underneath him as he takes the call, and when he closes his eyes and releases a sigh, you know it’s not positive.

“alright, thank you.” he says before hanging up, turning his focus to you. “the alarm at my apartment in the city was triggered. i gotta check it out, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you mutter out, suddenly unsure of how to talk to him now that you’ve crossed the line that you have.

but mingyu is much more straightforward. his gaze is warm and intense as it finds your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to stay here with you. so he shows you that.

just when your lips are about to touch again, he smirks, gently holding your chin. “i’ll be back for this.”

with those words, he catches his breath and gets up from the couch, after which he jogs down the stairs, and half a minute later, you hear the front doors open and close.

the sound allows you to release the breath you’ve been holding.

what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

READ PART TWO HERE

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[jojo-schmo]

✿ Forgotten Land Roleswap AU ✿

✦ 3rd Anniversary ✦

I was hoping to get this Light Novel cover redraw finished by today, but I haven't been feeling well and ran out of time- but I still wanted to at least share this WIP and muse on how much things have grown during these three years, and how much this project has meant to me so far.

April 12, 2022 was the day I created posted the first doodles that would, unbeknownst to me at the time, germinate the idea that would transform into a passion project spanning multiple years. I had just finished Kirby and the Forgotten Land's story and slowly getting back into the Kirby fandom space for the first time in years. It had been a long time since a game made me feel as wonderful as Forgotten Land did. I've loved Bandana Waddle Dee since I first played Return to Dreamland on the Wii when I was a kid, and wished he had more opportunities to shine outside of directly supporting Kirby in the game. I also love "What If" and "Roleswap" AUs, so I considered what would happen if I swapped Bandana Dee and King Dedede's role in the game.

The posts didn't really get much traction at first, which was fine. But I kept going back to the idea after a few days and thinking about how to push it further. Instead of just swapping Bandee and Dedede, what if Dedede was Player 1 to increase the stakes of rescuing the kidnapped Waddle Dees? Dedede wouldn't have access to Mouthful Mode, so how would the gameplay work then? Instead of Kirby taking care of everything with his own Mouthful Mode, it could be more fun to have Meta Knight be Player 2 instead, and explore their teamwork dynamics and problem-solving methods together!

So I explored an alternative- Combo Mode! And developing and researching ideas for that lit a spark within me! I had to keep going after that!

Now I had to consider, if I'm already swapping around all the main characters, I'm starting to have an entirely new universe here! What's next to change up? For the heroes' companion, I felt like Elfilin wouldn't behave very differently in this AU than in canon, he would probably continue to be friendly and helpful and sweet. Which would be okay- but to make things more interesting for myself, what if I played around with the origin story of the missing pieces of Fecto Forgo and switched "Elfilis" and "Elfilin" around? That way there's new obstacles and possibilities there and maybe I can even surprise some people with the lore down the line!

Now I'd had my Dream Team shuffled around, a very different mysterious companion for them... And why stop there? Why not play with the Beast Council's roles too while I'm at it to make things even more interesting for myself to write?!

From the early days of this AU Project...

To my more recent work...

...Now here we are.

It'd been a long, long time since I enjoyed the creation process of anything for myself like this! I was coming out of some pretty hard times in the early 2020s, and in a lot of ways, this AU has been there alongside me during a years-long journey to get help for my mental health, to become more confident in who I am and what I can bring to the world around me, and to love myself. Now I'm the best version of myself I've ever been, and I can pour so much more into my art and writing, especially with this AU!! <3

AND MAN, does it feel good to see physical evidence of my art style's evolution side-by-side! Like comparing my first Light Novel cover redraw from 2022 with my current WIP!

Creating this AU has taught me so much about storytelling, the medium of comics, organization, and most of all, to enjoy the process and really push my personal limits in a positive way. I've met so many amazing people since starting this story, some of whom have inspired me in ways I never could've imagined. Some very key people have even helped me ponder different mediums to tell this story.... Some animatics... or maybe even more interactive storytelling...? I am slow cooking some fun ideas, dear reader....

This AU gave me the confidence to become more involved in the fandom space and find community among people who have taught me so much. I am so, so grateful for this project.

I know it's taken some time to get here. I still work full-time and now I'm pursuing a second bachelor's in hopes of a career change that will allow me more time to focus on creating someday. But for now, free time can be frustratingly limited for me. It's also taken this long because I've put a lot of thought into how to set up the metaphorical "dominos" in the forms of foreshadowing and world-building I want, to do my best to make the wait worth it for the future plot pay-offs and reveals I have planned!! I'm hoping to continue to pick up speed with updates as I increase my skill and solidify my master plan for this story... MUAHAHA....

I plan on seeing this project to the very very end, and I can't wait to continue this journey with you all. Especially with the announcement of Star-Crossed Worlds!!! I'm not too worried about it turning my AU lore upside-down quite yet since it's post-game content and my bigger lore drops are still a little bit away, so I have time to navigate that when it does drop :3

Thank you to everyone who has read, enjoyed, and supported this project in any way, whether it's a like, comment, reblog tag, dm, carrier pigeon, paper airplane- whatever!! <3 I love, appreciate, and am beyond grateful for every reader, supporter, and friend I've gained in the past three years!!

Cheers to a successful three years under my belt, and I look forward to the future!! By the end of this journey, I hope you will enjoy reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

🫧 Love, Jojo T. Schmo 🫧

★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★

♫ Laughing loud! Even if you're far apart, they're right by your side. Hearts full of love! Everyone is welcome to live in this new world. ♫

｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡

[vroomingrussell]

Papaya Rules doesn’t Apply to the Heart 🧡

Part 1 of 5

Oscar Piastri is in love with Y/N Brown. Y/N has been and probably will be in love with Lando Norris, and Lando, is in love with the attention and the thrill of chasing his first championship.

Note: this will be part smau & partly written; all pics are from Pinterest and in this Y/N is Zac Browns daughter. The fic takes places over the course of the 2024 season.

Thanks for Reading!

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Y/NIntsa posted to story

Photo 1 caption: Ms Graduate

Photo 2 caption: time to join my dad in the world of cars go fast

Photo 3 caption: Hello from Monoco

F1paddocktalk posted to insta

F1paddocktalk: CEO of McLaren Zak Browns daughter @yninsta has been spotted entering the paddock of the Monoco GP with her father. F1 fans following Y/N now private Instagram account, has confirmed that Y/N is in Monoco and has been since she graduated college earlier this month, she is rumored to be joining her father at McLaren for the remaining race season.

Comments:

user15: finally my princess is HOME; Y/N the kids have missed you 😭😭

User1: Landoy/n rise one again? User2: @/user1 landoy/n? Im new here, what’s the lore!! User1: oh im so glad you asked @/user2 I’ve been WAITING to talk about this; okay so back in 2020/2021 Lando and Y/N were SOMETHING; relationship never confirmed but they were seen almost everywhere together during summer and winter breaks. Even when they weren’t together, they were constantly calling each other, Y/N use to post her daily FT screenshots with Lando, he mostly use to game while she did homework…. Then Christmas is 2021, they unfollowed each other, her page went private and we haven’t seen her since. Lando never mentioned her again even though he use to bring her up EVERY 5 minutes on his streams. But now she’s back, graduated collage and is gonna be at McLaren for the rest of the races, soooo this should be interesting!

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

You clutched your phone anxiously in your hand, you hadn’t been to a race in years, hadn’t seen him in person in years, of course you kept tabs, it was hard not to when he’s all your dad seems to ever want to talk about.

No one really knew what happened between the two of you, not that you did either. Years ago, you were something or almost something… more than friends but never defined.

Friends that kissed til your lungs burned for air, friends that touched so tenderly the moments between you felt like glass. And just like glass, your had heart shattered when you saw the photo of Lando and a beautiful blonde posted on a gossip page. He told you the blonde was a friend, and you wondered just how many friends like that he had, for you it was always him, no one sparked electricity through your body just by looking at you, no one made you smile the way he did, no one made you believe in love the way he did, but you were smart, smart enough to know that he didn’t return those feelings.

So, you did what you always did when emotional and feelings became too much, or got too complicated.

You detach, and shrink away until you weren’t in his life anymore, holiday plans canceled, too busy with school, projects and test and even pretend dates until he no longer called, no longer there, blocked and removed, nothing messy. Quiet disappearance.

But years have passed and you’ve both grown; the oceans of emotions in your heart was had stilled until today, where every wave of want and love lashed at your stomach.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm, what?”

“I said are you okay? You look a little sick”

“Sorry dad, I’m okay just nervous, I forgot how hectic race weekends are” i you smiled at your father “I know” you sighed at the look of concern on his face “if I feel overwhelmed I’ll find your office and take a break, promise”

“I’m happy you’re here Princess” Zak smiled and kissed the top of your head “I’ll see you okay”

“I’m happy to be here too”

As you parted ways and you began to walk around the hospital; it dawned on you that you knew no one, not really. A lot had changed in the couple of years you’d been away. You knew Alex and George, but they were getting prepared for free practice, none of the WAGs were your friends, Lilly was nice enough the few times you’d spoken to her and Alex but she wasn’t at the race.

You were consumed by your own thoughts that you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking until you felt strong arms gripping your shoulders, stopping you from colliding them with them.

“Hey- whoa be careful”

“Sorry” you quickly apologized, looking up to see a face you have become familiar with, even though he might not know you “Oscar, hey I’m Y/N, Zaks daughter”

“Yeah? It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about, feels like I know you already”

You playfully rolled your eyes “my dad never shuts up huh?”

“No um Lando, actually, he’s been pretty much singing your praises since he heard you were coming”

“Oh” you forced a polite smile “that’s nice of him”

“Osc!” You heard a familiar voice call out, your heart began to hammer against your rib cage, the closer he got, the louder it sounded in your ear.

“Found y/n for you”

And before you could make your escape, there you were, in his arms, it felt as familiar as ever, and every caution went to the wind, you wanted to stay there, buried in the scent of his perfume.

“I missed you”Lando said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Missed you too” you said, finally relaxing and hugging him back. It had been years, you were both grown, you were ready to let go of the hurt you felt in the past and move on, rekindle the friendship you lost, because, above everything you feel for Lando, his friendship, truly meant more to you, and you’d love nothing more than being his friend again.

Friend, defined and uncomplicated.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

F1paddocktalk posted to instagram

F1paddocktalk:

Spotted by one of our followers in the McLaren hospitality, Lando Norris and Y/N Brown. Rumor has this is the first time the pair has met or talked since Christmas 2021; they were previously linked but a relationship was never confirmed, could the old friends be rekindling their old flame?

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Comment if you’d like to be tagged in future parts

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 30

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

The only thing you like about award shows, you've decided, is that you haven't had to give any sort of speech yet.

Well, that and the performances, but they don't feel like they're part of the same show as the rest of it. The tense atmosphere, the long period of sitting and clapping and waiting, the eyes looking down from everywhere...that's what comes to mind when you think of award shows. That, too, is all the things you hate about them. 

Worst of all is the not winning, the endless wait for a name they won't call. Not that you'd ever expected to be collecting awards this year, but to watch the boys lose over and over again too, on a year they should have won big...

It's hard. It's heartbreaking and it's demeaning, and sometimes you just know that your controversy lost them awards they should have won. Like everything Back Door was nominated for, flying past you with nothing to show for it. 

You thought you'd learnt everything there is to know about award shows before the final one of the season, but of course, there is always one more embarrassment waiting. It creeps up on you when you're least expecting it, right in that part of the show where your attention starts to strain and you've almost forgotten that there's still one award that you could win. 

The boys are just as clueless, sitting around the table at varying degrees of distraction; Chan is putting up a valiant effort, straight-backed in his chair, but Han seems to be making origami with the edge of the tablecloth, and Seungmin is painstakingly picking the label off a bottle of water and Hyunjin keeps whispering stupid things in your ear. In the relative darkness of the floor, at least, they can't easily be seen ignoring proceedings, just like you can't see the crowd that rings the outside of the stadium. It's a small, secret relief of yours; not that they are all Stay, but that the ones who are can't find you to shout down the obscenities they happily type into twitter, or take photos of you talking to Hyunjin to theorise over later. 

Not that it bothers you, you tell yourself firmly - just that it is annoying, after a while, the constant rumours, the tight scrutiny of every move you make even when you plan all of them in advance. Not that you hate Stay either. You can't hate the fans that pay for your life, support your career, come to see you on a stage again and again, even if they only come to make a fool of you-

"The winner of Best Album in 2020...Stray Kids, Go Live!"

Above you, the crowd erupts into cheers so suddenly that you think maybe you'd imagined what you'd heard - but no, the lights are turning towards you and the presenters are smiling, and the boys are slowly rising from their seats, blinking like it is their first day in the sun. Your eyes catch Chan's across the table as you stand too, and in them you see a spark like you've never witnessed before, a quiet triumph he allows himself just for one moment between the countless worries that plague him day by day. You can't help but return the small smile he flashes you, right before he turns to weave through the crowd and lead the way onto the stage.

You last until the stairs, at least, before your stomach bottoms out. You've never been so nervous to walk up onto a stage, never felt like you belong here less - but you had agreed as a group, way back when the nominations came out, that all nine of you would go even if it was this album that won. So you set your feet to the steps and climb, lining up between Seungmin and Felix as if you'd had anything to do with it at all, and you pretend not to notice the eyes that stare down at you from the dim rows of seats way up above.

[EXCERPT FROM TRANSCRIPT: SKZ CODE #2 - WINTER IS COMING]

TIMESTAMP 11:52

...

Felix: Next is...princess Hyunjinnie and princess Y/Nnie!

Hyunjin: Princess?

Lee Know: Dwaekki princess and ferret princess!

Changbin: But if we are both the princess how will we get married-

Felix: How will they fight?

Hyunjin: This princess fights...with the sword.

[All laugh]

Y/N: A queen doesn't fight her own battles, so I will choose you as my champion.

Felix: Me?

Han: You can't choose the king to fight for you!

Y/N: Because he's too scared?

Felix: I'll fight for you! 

Never back down-

All: Never surrender!

You close your eyes for a moment, standing in the dark on the edge of that stage, and then the lights and the music turn on and you love yourself in the easy beat of Back Door, every step you take rehearsed.

You could swear your heart rate settles rather than rises as you move into the quick rhythm of choreography, even as your breath starts to shorten and fatigue crawls into your limbs. The nerves that always plague you before a performance settle as the familiar part of the song slips by. Even the fears you harbour of the approaching dance break ebb, your thought firmly fixed on the belief that you know it well enough. 

For a moment, you feel what it really is to be on stage - the heat, the sweat, the music and the roaring crowd. The symmetry of nine bodies in perfect motion, every beat precise.

For a moment, you relax.

Exertion shakes from you limbs as you walk to the B stage, striding on the fringe of the group on the coattails of Lee Know. A breath fills your lungs back up as your eyes wander to the crowd. There are so many people there that they blur together, pinpricks of light at the back becoming the shape of indistinct bodies as they get closer, all the way down the to shadowed faces lining the barricade. And in front of them-

You only see it because you happen to be looking that way as you pass that particular section of the wall. You don't think it's meant for you either - a big banner, slung over the barricade to catch the pan of the cameras. A picture of the nine of you adorns it, blown up big enough that you can make out each face even in the half-light it catches from the side of the stage, and the-

You have to do a doubletake to check if it is real, your mind stuttering over the boldness of it, the lengths taken to craft and carry it in here. The spite it must take to draw the big red X that splits your face into quarters, front and centre where the boys had insisted you be when that photo was taken, back at your debut performance. 

None of the others even notice, their minds firmly focused on the moment and the task at hand, like yours should be. Your chest freezes, the tight cords of fear running their way through your ribcage.

Is it fear? Is it anger? Or maybe embarrassment, that such a stupid thing could upset you. You stare at Minho's back instead of the crowd as you finish the walk, shooting a tight smile at the hand Chan claps on your shoulder as you pass, the last one to reach the stage and fall into your place for the chorus. Stop thinking about it, you tell yourself in the build-up, shaking your arms out one last time - but now you are thinking so hard about that that you are distracted in a whole other way, and you need to concentrate and you have to prove them wrong-

It's impossible. Emotion, dark and heavy, crashes over you even when you try to hold it at bay, the frustration stinging in your eyes and biting at your lip until it bleeds. Choreography explodes out of you, sharp and furious, and yet it is still not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. Eight is fate, and you are nine, and they don't want you here - and you are being stupid and selfish, thinking about this when you're supposed to be dancing, frowning when you should be smiling. Letting yourself get distracted, holding back tears instead of focusing on the performance.

The dance break comes for you before you are ready for it, rushing in between the chorus and the bridge. For the first two bars, you can keep up, hiding in the back between Seungmin and Lee Know, Felix's fluid movement hiding most of your sharper attempts behind him. Stop thinking about it, you tell yourself again, trying to sink into the music - and then you find, between one move and the next, that you can't remember what comes after it.

Panic stabs at your chest, as fast and hard as the tears that threaten your eyes and the lump that blocks up your throat. Don't freeze, you think in between the pain, the entirety of your gaze on Felix. Don't freeze, don't freeze, don't freeze. 

You know you're slow, and the synchronicity is broken. You know you pick it up again one bar too late to play it off, and you know that you're not in the right position or dance for it to look good, being one beat slow. In the corner of your eye, you can see Minho shoot you a look, his face inscrutable; and whether he means it or not (and you know he doesn't, but that doesn't seem to matter to the voice that screams at you inside your head), guilt wells in the cavity of your chest.

At least it realigns your thoughts, away from the death spiral they'd been plunging down and back to the task at hand - and maybe you're stiff, and perhaps you rely a little too much on the doubling track to hold up your voice as you sing your final part, but you finish clean. Sweating and cringing and swallowing a wave of emotion that threatens to overcome you whether it is professional for an idol or not, but clean. In time with everyone else. Correct, in all the ways that matter, even if your heart isn't in it. You even manage to walk off the stage with your head held high, your jaw set in determination. 

You make it all the way to the dressing room before you remember that it's not your final destination; you still have to go back to your seats and sit through half a show, and there will still be cameras looking for you when you leave and then it will be far too late at night for any kind of debriefing, and you shouldn't keep them up anyway-

With great effort, you force a breath down deep into your chest and feign itching your eye to dab away the tear that wells in its corner. Crying is such a stupid response - you can sit through a few hours of pain. It's only time - eventually, it will pass. You don't even have to grin. You just have to bear it. 

"Y/N?" a voice says beside you as you reach for your in-ears, pulling the cord up out of your collar. I.N hovers in the corner of your eye, watching as you wrestle it, with the kind of worry in his eyes that twists your chest even tighter. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you reply, forcing your voice to be upbeat around the grit of your teeth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I.N looks at you like you're luring him into a trap. "No reason," he decides slowly, dropping his own sound packs on the table. "If you want to talk though..."

"I'll come find you," you promise, ignoring the stab of guilt you feel at the way he tiptoes around you, standing back and watching with uncertain eyes as you wind up your cords. After a moment of silence in which he says no more, he retreats, disappearing into the maelstrom of boys and staff that swirls in the room. The space he leaves is even more suffocating than his presence had been, creeping and crawling at your back as you set down your things and try to gather up your face again before you turn around, playing with the collar of your shirt to gain you more time.

Across the room, you can hear when the boys start to file out, pushed back towards their seats again. It makes your eyes prick with tears again, the fragile balance of your chest tipping again at the thought of already having to leave - but there's no time left. No way out of it except to bite it down and walk back out there like you aren't just made of glass. It's your willpower alone that turns you to follow them, your feet falling into Chan's shadow and your eyes avoiding the way he pauses to check that you are following, the only duck missing in his line.

You know he notices. You know that he knows it's on purpose too, and yet you do it anyway, cringing away from his attention as if you can lose control and forget choreography on stage and still escape his notice. You even believe it for a second - until you feel the hand that curls soft over your shoulder, his body blocking your way out the door. 

His eyes ask the question without his mouth having to move, quiet concern shining in the dark planes of his face. Your throat chokes up at the sight of it, your lips pressed together in the fight against the tears that return in full force. "We have to go," you say with difficulty, motioning towards the doorway behind him.

The slip of his arm around your shoulders is all it takes. "No, we don't," he answers as the first tear falls, pulling you to one side. "Not until you want to."

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[pazziiiiiiii]

This is my first fic and I don’t even know if this is good or no but lmk if you want another part cause if you like it I’ll make it a series but we’ll see!! I like a lot of angst cause otherwise I find stories boring so there will probs be a lot.

This is like their whole life starting from quarantine so because of that it’ll probs be a longer series if y’all like it but lmk idk about it cause if y’all don’t like it I won’t continue. Be completely honest with me I don’t care if it’s mean!!

Word count: 2.3k

Part 1

2020 - Paige POV

Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd have always been inseparable from the day they met in the team USA tryouts. That day where they were both shaking with nerves and were put on the same team to scrimmage. Instantly it looked as if they had been playing with each other for years, somehow knowing where the other would be at all times and able to get an easy bucket. That’s what sparked their friendship through the whole tournament. Until they found out they were being separated after it.

However, even when they lived on other sides of the country it was like they were still together. They FaceTimed every chance they could and were talking to each other constantly (if not it was about the other to their family). They had late night conversations that went on for hours into the night, until someone fell asleep and they woke up in the morning with the call still running. On the few times it was Paige who stirred first (because she always slept in later), she would wake up confused at first to see her phone screen shining, but then would notice the person on the screen and her heart would flutter the slightest bit. She always gets this feeling looking at Azzi, since the day she saw her. But these feelings were long pushed away because Paige was too afraid to admit what they were.

But, even if they talked constantly, they were still itching to actually be with each other so they could prove who was the better hooper, instead of trash talking through a screen. This was a dream they knew would never come true considering how far away they lived.

That was until Paige had an idea. A crazy one, but a good one. She was going to surprise Azzi. She was going to come live with the Fudd’s in quarantine. Just the thought made Paige excited.

Paige loved Tim and Katie Fudd, they were amazing. They had been at the entire USA tournament and because Azzi and her had already become so close, she was introduced to them. And they welcomed Paige in immediately. They saw how Azzi and her were together and knew they would be best friends. So they quickly supported Paige liked their own daughter. They loved her and Paige knew it.

This made Paige even more eager to come stay with them, because this kind of love was different to her own home. She lived with only her dad and hid new wife because her mom left when she was 3. Her dad loved her a lot, yes, but he also was quite lost in how to support his child. So Paige was distant from him, very. She didn’t express her feelings or anything of that sort to him. Leet alone anyone else.

Except Azzi. Even though it was not much Paige told her, and it took Azzi a lot to get anythibg out of her, it was more than anyone else. Because she listened and understood Paige. Knew when something was off and how to fix it. Which made her appreciate Azzi even more.

But with all this in mind, Paige was still nervous of how living months with her best friend would go. It wasn’t like the Fudd’s were scary or anything, of course not. But whenever Paige saw her she was forced to push down the feeling that she was scared to admit. That she could never admit.

So when she texted Katie to ask if she could stay, it took a lot longer than expected.

After a lot of tries, she finally settled on:

Hey Katie, it’s Paige. I was wondering if I could stay with you guys for quarantine and surprise Azzi? If you guys start tomorrow I could get there then? I really think it would be a good idea if it’s ok with you?

When she finally clicked send, she tossed her phone to the side, trying to let her mind rest and her nerves settled.

After a couple minutes a buzz vibrated through her phone and Paige picked it up straight away. Of course it was from Katie:

Hey Paige, that sounds like a great idea! We’ll pick you up from the airport tomorrow just text us.

Paige let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. She quickly responded to Katie and booked her flight for the earliest one she could. She could just imagine Azzi’s face when she saw her. Her beautiful, brown curls that matched her brown, doe eyes and her lips that-

Paige had to stop these thoughts. She couldn’t think about her best friend like that, it was wrong to like her like that. Especially when she was going to live with that girl for at least a couple weeks.

Once Paige had finally stopped thinking about that, she realised she was going to have to tell her dad. The dad who doesn’t know how to parent her. The dad who is very religious. The dad who doesn’t know how to properly to talk his child, so instead he resorts to yelling at her. Getting mad at her for the slightest things. It’s not like he doesn’t love his daughter, but he just doesn’t know how to be a parent.

Paige decided she just had to get this over with, so she set her phone down and slowly started to go downstairs. She didn’t know how she was going to tell him. Should she ask or just tell him without a yes or no option. She decided on the second one cause, well she already booked her flight and also she didn’t want him to say no (which he was going to do anyway).

When she saw him he was at the table, glasses on and looking at his laptop. He didn’t even look up, not a care in the world, as if she didn’t even exist. Paige slowly went up to him and was forced to start the conversation herself.

“Um bob- I mean dad…” She slowly said, her father’s real name slipping from her mouth like usual. She usually just couldn’t bring herself to say dad because of how little he was as one.

Bob hummed in response, still failing to look up from his laptop. He looked like he didn’t want to talk to her, as always.

“I was just gonna tell you,” Paige started, not bothering to give him warning. “I’m gonna say with Azzi and her family for a while during quarantine. I’ve already told Katie and Tim and booked my flight and stuff, I leave tomorrow morning.” She rushed out, as if it would end this conversation sooner.

Bob finally looked up, his expression blank, only his brows were furrowed, showing the only sign of emotion. Anger.

“You weren’t even gonna ask me at all, just decided to do it without any permission?” He said firmly, the anger obviously rising through his tone.

“I just really want to go and I don’t want to stay here. I haven’t seen Azzi in so long and I’m gonna surprise her.” Paige replied, not even bothering to be respectful about it.

But then, Bob said something Paige would have never thought he would say. Making her wish she never even said anything in the first place.

“Of course you wanna visit Azzi, why don’t you just go live with her and ask her to be your girlfriend. You better not ask her or you can stay there forever.” He said strongly, his voice raising to a yelling level.

Paige stood in front of him, still. Frozen in shock. She didn’t think he thought about it that way. Didn’t think he would take it that far. I mean she knew something was different and she thought about girls differently, but she had been pushing it down for so long, forcing herself to not feel that way. Now he said it, being very religious he would never forgive her if that was the case.

They both stared at each other for what felt like hours, until Paige finally spoke up.

“I’m leaving at 6:00, I’ll get an uber. I’ll see you when I get home.” She said flatly, turning around and going back to her room, ignoring his voice yelling at her behind her shoulder to come back.

When she got there, she just layed down, staring at the ceiling with her thoughts filling her mind. She knew Azzi was expecting her to call, and Paige was going to, but she didn’t know what to say. Azzi would know something is wrong, that’s just how she is. But Paige knew Azzi was the only person she could to talk to right now.

So she picked up her phone and clicked on ‘Az’ instantly. The line only rang twice when she saw the younger girls face pop on the screen.

“Hey P, took you long enough, it’s literally midnight.” Azzi said with a teasing tone.

“Sorry, was just talking to my dad.” Paige tried to get the words out strongly, attempting to push the lump forming in her throat down. But that was not the case, and Azzi, of course, could tell.

Her face softened almost instantly, knowing what her dad was like, she knew it was something bad, otherwise Paige would never have talked to him in the first place.

“What’s up P?” She asked, voice laced with concern.

“Nothing I’m fine,” Paige answered a little too quickly.

Knowing Paige’s walls she built were very difficult to break, Azzi quickly replied.

“Just answer Paige I know somethings up, you can tell me I’m here.” When Paige didn’t reply, Azzi added, “you have to let me in P it’s not gonna help you.”

Paige knew she should tell Azzi, should tell her what was wrong and how she was feeling. But Paige couldn’t, she had so much built up anger that she couldn’t stop from coming out, so she let it out on Azzi.

“Just stop Az, you don’t always have to know what’s happening I can figure it out on my own, I’ve done it plenty of times before.” Paige knew she shouldn’t have even let the words come out of her mouth as soon as they left.

Azzi’s face froze for just a second, but Paige caught it. She saw the hurt and confusion that flashed through her eyes, but was also gone as soon as it was there.

A long moment passed before Paige spoke up again, the anger settling in her as she pushed it down.

“I’m sorry Azzi, I shouldn’t have said that. I just…” Paige stopped to think about her words, looking down at her fiddling hands that wouldn’t stop moving, before continuing, “I just need to figure it out on my own, he got mad is all, I’ll tell you another time, but I gotta go.”

Paige knew it wasn’t true. And so did Azzi. They both knew that Paige would stay on for hours if she wasn’t feeling so many things at once. Just looking at Azzi made her calmer. But she couldn’t, she needed to stop talking to her best friend before the things her father were saying happened.

“Tell me when you can P, I’m here.” Azzi said softly, the same hurt all over her face as she hung up the call.

Paige stared at her phone for a moment as her screen turned black. She was panicking, the voice of her dad’s words echoing in her mind. Repeating the phrase over and over again. You better not ask her or you can stay there forever. The words had hit Paige harder than she should’ve let them. Deep down she knew that what he said was true. But she had pushed it down for so long, now wasn’t the time she wasn’t going to let up on that. Not now, not ever. Azzi was straight anyway, she would never think that way about her. It was something she had just excepted.

When Paige finally took her eyes off the screen in-front of her, she was breathing heavy and fast. She needed fresh air.

Whenever Paige felt like this she did one of two things. Go play basketball because it was the one thing she loved to do. Or when she couldn’t do that, she would sit on her roof. So that is what she did.

Paige opened the window and stepped out, the cold Minnesota air hit her face instantly, but she wasn’t fazed. Once she got to the top of her roof her breathing instantly slowed. This was the one way (besides Azzi) Paige could get rid of her racing mind, even just for a small time, it was everything to her.

She stared up at the night sky for a while, not thinking about anything but the stars above her.

Azzi POV

Azzi knew exactly what Paige was doing right now. She couldn’t go out to the court and hoop because it was snowing (not that it’s stopped her before), so the only thing she could be doing was sitting on the roof looking at the sky.

Being able to understand Paige and know what she was doing came easily for Azzi. It was like she was made to do it.

In this moment she knew something was wrong. Paige hadn’t told her too much about her father, but it was more than she’s told anyone ever, and it was enough to understand what happened to her in the conversation they had tonight.

But in moments like Paige was having now, there was nothing Azzi could do to stop her. She had already built the walls around her, she had tried to break them down but they never let up, so she just had to wait for her. Even though Azzi knew it wasn’t healthy for Paige to do, she couldn’t do anything about it.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Thank you so much for the work you put into this blog.

I'm in the early stages of writing a book that's set in close to modern times. I'm white, but many of my friends, and myself, have had many negative experiences regarding police, and I want my book to talk about that. Its close enough to me that it will be a central theme in the story.

I've been reading a lot and I have every intention of hiring a sensitivity reader when I get to that point, but I'm still fleshing out the story. Right now, all of my main characters have had negative interactions with police, and two of them are Black.

My question is how do I handle the topic of police brutality as a white person? Given the setting, having my Black characters not experience it when the white characters do strikes me as ignoring systemic racism, and that is the opposite of what I want.

Are there other things I can read to better familiarize myself with police violence and how that manifests differently for Black people? Should I avoid describing that?

😅 I don't- I must be honest, this one snatched my breath a little bit. Forgive me, I just can't imagine the privilege of not knowing.

Well first, your friends have varied experience with police violence; none of them are Black that you can talk to? Because if they are, and you haven't had that discussion, that indicates that there's a level of safety they don't feel with you. Not saying that's the case, but if it is... I would pause writing this story in lieu of building your relationships. It would help to consider how the police treated you, versus someone Black in a similar scenario as you. So look into cases like that.

As for this, I mean... The news 😅 police brutality against Black people is so regular that I find myself struggling sometimes to remember which body got which murder over the years, there's so many. Start reading Black abolitionists who write on the topic, for sure. There are also activists who write on it in general; The New Jim Crow is an easy one; even though it's older, things have gotten no better. The documentary 13th; runs in the similar vein of how law enforcement, policy, and the prison industrial complex preys on Black bodies using "color blind" racism to fill prisons for free labor.

Actually, I'm gonna issue you a personal challenge- I also want you to find five news article examples of police brutality against Black people and read both the articles AND some of the comment section of white commenters. I promise by the time you're done, you'll see how police brutality against Black people is responded to. Hell, even on here. Sonya Massey, Jordan Neely; the antiblackness bled from the average Tumblr commenter on those cases.

Read articles of the families left behind and how even in death, we cannot rest; George Floyd's murder sparked mass protest in Summer 2020 and people still tease his daughter about her father's murder. You can even go back in time and read, from lynchings in the 30s to the riots in the 60s and 90s; the rhetoric is generally the same, even if the language isn't overt anymore.

[khaylin27]

So Long, London

pairing: carlos sainz x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; a teaser of oscar piastri x reader hehe

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: when carlos joined mclaren, it was easy for y/n norris to fall in love with him. throughout 2020 to 2023 y/n norris could see that carlos was drifting away from her. this could be due to carlos' suggested depression after leaving mclaren to go to ferrari, him being unready for marriage, and his infidelity towards in their relationship.

warnings: infidelity; depression; mentions of sex; one sided relationship; also let’s pretend charles was with alexandra in 2021 to now

author's note: this is literally my favorite song from the album. it describes a time in my life where i put so much into a relationship but they kept drifting away. hope you guys like it 🥹

2020

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

It was so easy to love and be in a relationship with your brother's team mate, Carlos Sainz. But once the pandemic hit, you saw the spark of your relationship fade slowly.

"No quiero estar en McLaren más hermosa." I don't want to be in McLaren anymore beautiful. Carlos tells you as he shows you the contract Ferrari sent him for 2021 to 2023.

During the pandemic, you and Carlos were sharing an apartment together in London. He would teach you Spanish so that he can speak to you in his native language. "I thought you loved being in McLaren babe? What would my brother say if you leave?"

"There's no 'if' hermosa. I don't care what your brother says because he was on board with Zack on putting Daniel in my seat for next year." Carlos says angry because you brought up your brother. They've had a great relationship throughout the 2019 to 2020 seasons, but once Lando sided with Zach on putting Daniel in Carlos' seat their friendship tore apart. "My decision is final. I'm going to Ferrari whether anyone likes it or not."

You kept calm and walked to where Carlos was to give him a tight hug. "If it makes you happy babe, I'm with you on this one." He didn't hug you back the same way you hugged him.

You didn't know it at the time but this was the first sign that Carlos was drifting away.

2021

My spine split from carrying us up the hill Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill I stopped trying to make him laugh Stopped trying to drill the safe

Once the 2021 F1 season started and covid regulations lifted, you thought your relationship would get better since Carlos joined Ferrari but it didn't. Ferrari kept him busy with back to back events that you weren't invited to because of your connection with McLaren.

When Carlos would come home from these events, drunk and not mentally there. You knew he would drink himself away due to the depression he was going through after leaving McLaren. You would try to keep the relationship alive by having sex with him. Even though it did keep your sexual relationship somewhat alive, it felt like your spine was going to split from carrying your relationship alive.

Ferrari did invite you to an event after you complained to Alexandra (let's pretend Charles was with her during this time) one time during a Grand Prix weekend. It was a different atmosphere than what you were used to at McLaren. You felt wet through your clothes and chill through your weary bones during the event.

You and Carlos were sitting in a booth with Charles and Alexandra. You smiled at Charles and Alexandra's interactions together. She would always make Charles laugh and it made you miss when you used to do that with Carlos. Making Carlos laugh made it feel safe in your relationship with him, but not anymore.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out I founded the club she's heard great things about I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath

The event that Ferrari was hosting was in a club in Monaco. Carlos left your booth to get a 'drink' while you were talking with Alexandra and Charles.

"So Y/N how do you like the event?" Charles yells through the loud music.

"It's okay I guess. It's different than McLaren events." You say uncomfortable. McLaren was like home to you, they were family. You left all that to be with Carlos and follow his dreams. Yet you both aren’t happy with leaving McLaren.

Alexandra can tell that you were uncomfortable with the question. "Why don't we go to the bar Y/N?" You nod at her question as she takes your hand to walk together to the bar.

Once you arrive at the bar, Alexandra orders drinks for both of you but you hear something that was interesting. "Girl, I just had the best sex with that one Ferrari driver."

It was two girls that got invited to do press for this event. The other girl asks "Oh my god. Which one?"

"The Spanish one! Let me tell you, he's very good with his hands." You start tearing up as she continues to explain what your boyfriend did to her. It was things that he never did to you. "He told me that he hasn't had sex like that in months."

Alexandra looks at you with the drinks in her hands. She notices the tears going down your face and ruining your makeup. "Y/N are you okay?"

"No, I'm not." You say politely as you wipe your tears. "Is it possible for you to call an uber for me? I want to go home."

Alexandra nods and goes on her phone to reserve you an uber. While she was doing that you were breaking down crying on the bar counter.

I stopped CPR, after all it's no use The spirit was gone, we would never come to And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

Hours after you got home from the event by yourself, Carlos comes home late. Usually you would have sex as soon as he got home to keep your relationship alive, but it's no use. Why would you put so much into him if the spirit he had for you was gone?

"Hermosa, beautiful can we have sex?" He asks drunkenly while your body was turned away from him. "Por favor." please

"No Carlos." You say as you try to go back to sleep.

"Why not hermosa? beautiful You looked so pretty in that dress you wore?" He peppers your arm and back with kisses trying to get you in the mood for sex.

"Carlos stop. I'm pissed off at you right now." You sit up and look at him. You can tell he was drunk because he didn't care that you were crying. "I'm pissed off that I spent so much of my youth on you. We left the only place that we were happy at thinking it was better for you but it wasn’t. Only for you to hookup with a whore at an event while I was there. What happens when I’m not there? Is that why Ferrari doesn’t invite me to anything??"

"I'm sorry hermosa. beautiful It’s just been emotionally draining after the past couple of months." He hugs you.

"I know it's been but you're not helping if you keep doing this." As you wipe your tears you then add. "I thought this move would be better for both of us. Remember how we dreamed of getting married and starting a family?"

"That's not my dream Y/N, that's your dream. My dream is to be World Champion and I won't let any distractions get in my way." It was like a slap in the face when Carlos told you this. All your life you've always wanted a husband and to start a family. You thought it would be with Carlos but it would be a 'distraction in getting World Champion.'

"Goodnight hermosa beautiful Te amo I love you" he says as he hugs you and falls asleep.

And you say I abandoned the ship But I was going down with it My white knuckle dying grip Holding tight to your quiet resentment 

Ever since the night of the Ferrari event, you haven’t been to any Ferrari events or even to the Ferrari garages. Instead you’ve been hanging out with your brother in the McLaren garage.

It was 2021 of the Russian Grand Prix, Lando had spun and grazed the wall on one of his laps that caused him to not win the Russian Grand Prix.

Once Lando gets back into the garage and gets out of his car, you can see the tears in his eyes. “It’s okay little bro.” He pulls you into a tight. You knew that this was race was emotionally draining on him.

“If I just pitted and changed my tires I would’ve won.” He continues to cry.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done Lan. I just thank god you’re okay and nothing happened to you.” You hug him tighter.

“Thank you for being here Y/N.” He says as he pulls away from hugging you. As you both wipe your tears, he looks at the screen and sees Carlos on the podium. “You should go and be with Carlos. At least get to celebrate with him.”

“It’s okay. I’ll wait until he’s done to celebrate with him.” You give him a fake smile in hopes that he doesn’t see that you’re faking it.

Little did you know, you weren’t going to be celebrating with Carlos tonight.

“Why the hell weren’t you with me celebrating my win?” Carlos yells at you while you’re sitting on the couch just staring at him.

“Didn’t think you needed me since that whore was wrapped around you.” You saw the photos that F1 gossip accounts were posting on Twitter.

Carlos looks at you with frustration. “I’m sorry hermosa beautiful but I needed to let off the excitement .” You role your eyes at his response.

“‘Let off the excitement’ you have a girlfriend at home waiting for you.” You explain to him.

“Well you should’ve been around me instead of that girl.” He says putting the blame back on you.

“I was taking care of my brother. Your best friend that could’ve won today but didn’t. At least try to comfort your best friend instead of having whores going around you.”

“I swear ever since that night, you’ve just abandoned me and everything we’ve built.”

You laugh at what Carlos says, “you’re saying I’ve abandoned you and everything we’ve built. Oh honey, I’m just going down with it.”

Your knuckles are turning white as you’re clenching the pillow so you don’t cry in front of this man. “I’m leaving to London to be with Lando. Fix whatever is going on with you to fix this relationship.” You knew deep down that Carlos resented you for what you said that night.

My friends said it isn't right to be scared Every day of a love affair Every breath feels like rarest air When you're not sure if he wants to be there

Once your plane landed in London, Lando was waiting for you at the arrival terminal. After you got your bags and got in his car you explained to him what’s been going on with Carlos for the past two years after he left McLaren.

“That’s not healthy Y/N and you’ve been going through this for two years now?” Lando asks you and you just nod in silence.

“It feels like every day is a love affair. Every breath I took around him feels like rarest air.” You try so hard not to cry in front of your little brother right now but the tears keep pouring. “I’m not even sure if he wants to be in this relationship. It broke my heart when he said he didn't want to get married or start a family because it would be a 'distraction'”

Lando hugs you and more tears start pouring out. “It’s okay Y/N. You don’t always have to be strong for me.”

“I know, but you guys were very close and I don’t want to ruin your friendship with him.” You explain the reason why you didn’t tell him for so long.

“Whether we’re friends or not, he shouldn’t make you feel like that. It isn’t right to be scared in a relationship.” You hug him tighter as the tears keep pouring down.

“I know, but I love him.”

2022

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

After months of you living in London with Lando, Carlos was desperate to have you back. During the 2022 season, you decided to go back with Carlos only if Carlos marries you. Carlos agreed and you both started planning the wedding.

You two decided to plan the wedding in Spain at the end of July during the mandatory summer break. The wedding was going to be beautiful. All of your family, friends, and colleagues would be invited to the big wedding. Sadly, you wouldn't be getting married.

As you're walking down the aisle with your father, you look ahead and see that Carlos wasn't standing at the alter. "Where is Carlos?" Your father asks Carlos Sr. and Reyes, Carlos' parents.

You look at Lando, who was Carlos' best man. "Lando please be honest with me. Where is Carlos?"

"He needed to talk to his cousin, just pre wedding jitters I think." He smiles at you trying to make you feel okay but deep down you knew.

"Carlos is not coming back." Caco, Carlos' cousin comes up to you and the family.

"¿Qué quieres decir con que no volverá? what do you mean he's not coming back" Carlos Senior asks his nephew.

"I tried to keep him here but he wanted to leave." Caco looks at you with sad eyes. "Carlos told me to give you this." It was a note that Carlos hand wrote for you.

To Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you on the altar waiting for me. I couldn't get married and get distracted from the dreams I truly wanted. I wish I could do this in a better way and not put you through so much pain. So long Y/N, we had a good run. I know I'm not the one for you hermosa beautiful.

Love, Carlos

You breakdown once you finish reading his note. He 'loved' you but where was the clues? He left you on the altar waiting for the proof. He sacrificed your relationship and the dreams you wanted to achieve together so that he could be World Champion.

2023

And I'm just getting color back into my face I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

It took you awhile to start coming back to the races again. Every time you would think about going to a race to support your brother, all you could think about is Carlos. You loved the races but it made you mad as hell cause you loved Carlos.

Lando invited you to the Las Vegas Grand Prix to celebrate his birthday and to watch him race. At Lando's birthday party, you met his new teammate Oscar Piastri. "Oscar this is my sister, Y/N." Lando introduces Oscar to you before he leaves to dj again.

"Hello Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard great things about you from Lando." He smiles at you.

"Oh really? What did he say?" Now you were intrigued about what Lando says about you behind your back.

"For one, he didn't tell me that you were so beautiful." You blush at Oscar's compliment. "But he does tell me how much he misses you being around the paddock. He says you're like the 'warm sun' whenever you're around."

"I know I've been absent in paddock due to what happened last year." You take a sip of alcohol after bringing up your failed wedding. "But I'm back where I've always belonged. McLaren was and will always be family." You say as you smile at Lando and Zack being dj together.

"Well I'm glad you're back and I can't wait to get to know you better." Oscar gets two shots from the bartender and gives you one. He smiles at you and says, "Cheers to new beginnings."

"Yeah. Cheers to new beginnings."

[meetmeinanotherworld]

If I could give one piece of advice to shifters, from "baby" shifters to the ones who have been trying for five years, specifically the ones still on tiktok, it would be this.

Number one, get off of tiktok. I say this with love toward the shifttok community and as someone who still watches videos on there. Stop depending on other people. Especially on TikTok. People on TikTok love to preach about how much hard work it is and how shifting isn't easy, but everyone is capable of it if they "keep pushing and trying and experimenting with a new method every single night." Which leads me to my next point.

Shifting is easy. People on tiktok love to preach the opposite because they heard the affirmation "shifting is as easy as breathing" and chose to take it literally and then got their feelings hurt when it didn't go their way. Shifting is easy the moment you decide it is easy. And I mean really decide and truly believe, not just saying it a couple of times before bed without any intention behind it and then being confused when you're not in your desired reality.

I used to let myself get obsessed to the point of burn out. I survived the misinformation era of shifttok and unfortunately there still is misinformation on there. But more than that, it's full of people overcomplicating it. In 2023, I barely attempted with shifting at all because I was so burnt out and so drained from my "failures." That bled into 2024 as well where when I finally found my spark again, I would lose it after two tries and then would be demotivated for weeks or even months at a time.

But then at the end of 2024, something finally clicked for me. And it wasn't because of shifttok and it certainly wasn't because of tumblr either (I wasn't actively on shiftblr at this time). Something clicked and I suddenly didn't have any doubts about shifting. I knew with 100000% certainty that shifting is real, and because I knew it was real, I also knew that I would shift eventually. But that was my next obstacle. That one word.

Eventually.

I would spend every attempt believing in shifting but not really believing I would shift then.

Then I came on shiftblr. No, you should not depend on anyone for your shifting journey besides yourself. But I will say it was refreshing to see a switch from "which method should I do?" "What works for you?" "I've been trying for three years and nothing is working" "guys is shifting actually real?" to "obviously shifting is real and it's easy" "all you need to do is let yourself have it" "you don't need elaborate methods, just believe."

I will always love shifttok, but I can admit that it definitely stunted my growth on my journey. Listening to other people and depending on what other shifters, especially successful shifters, were saying fucked me over. You don't need those outside voices. All you need to do is let yourself believe that you can do it. And I mean ACTUALLY believe. The second you decide it's easy, it is easy. Shifting really can be as easy a breathing, if you let it.

And if you were on shifttok, you'd probably have a dozen different people saying in your ear "no, it's not. Shifting is hard because it's taken me years." But it only has taken them that much time because they keep reinforcing that idea over and over in their minds (calling myself out there). If I had the mindset I have right now back in 2020, I would have shifted to my desired reality within the first month of trying.

Although, it is probably a good thing I didn't shift right away to my first dr because that script was rancid and I did not understand shifting back then LMAOOOO

So tldr- stop depending on outsiders on your journey, especially people that overcomplicate it on tiktok. Figure out what you need to do to believe, believe in yourself that you can achieve it too, and then know that you will shift. Every time you want to shift, remind yourself that you will shift and that it is easy. Because it is. You never needed an instruction manual on how to dream or how to breathe. It's already built in. All you need to do is allow yourself.

[poppyflower-22]

His Girl.

Part 1

Summary: Lando loves his rich, girl boss, girl. Though he doesn't really know what she really does underneath. Until he does.

or

In which Lando finds out his girlfriend is not who she said she was.

Side note: I'm using names for reader, and spelling and grammar errors. I've had this in my head for a while and while I write on Wattpad normally, I'm taking a brake because of some nasty things said to me about my writing.

Masterlist

2020

Lando was on another high from another podium that weekend in Australia. He was at the bar ordering another drink, when he looked across the bar, he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

She was wearing a short black dress. Her makeup and hair were just right, and she was wearing a silver chain necklace. She was sipping a Vodka Cruiser. Not a care in the world.

He thanks the bartender and makes his way over to her. He sat down bedside her. She didn't even give him a glance.

"Not interested." She spoke. And God Lando fell in love her voice. It was British. But her voice was so soft.

Lando clocked an eyebrow, "I didn't even say anything." He chuckled.

She sighed and turned to look at him. "You were going to hit on me and hoped I would end up in your bed by the end of the night. No?" She bluntly spoke with her eye raised.

Lando just stared at her in aww. Because maybe that was the case but not now. He could tell she was interesting person already. There was a spark in her eyes, of mystery and fun. She interested him very much. "Okay maybe your right." He smirked at her. "But how about I just buy you another drink?" He asked.

She wouldn't say it out loud, but he was handsome. "Fine." She sighed and Lando flagged down the bartender. The bartender gave her a nod as he left to get her drink.

"So, what's your name, love?" He asked turning his seat to face her.

She copied him. He was interesting. Mostly when she said no, the guy would walk away or start being aggressive. But not him. "Bonnie." She smiled.

"No last name?" He asked with a curious look. He watched as she brushed her black hair out her face and smiled at him.

"Salvatore." She reposed with a small smile. "Yours mystery man?" She asked taking a sip of her drink.

"Lando. Lando Norris." He spoke. He watched as she studied him.

"The formal one race driver?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

Lando nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Did you watch the race?" he couldn't but ask.

Bonnie shook her head, "Oh no, my father loved F1." She smiled. She loved her father and talking about wasn't a sad thing. Despite the life they lived.

"Oh sorry."

"No, it's okay. It was a long time ago." She reassured him with a hand on his hand. "But he was a Ferrari fan." She teased knowing he is a McLaren driver.

"Oh." He teased placing his hand on his heart. "Not Ferrari." They both laughed. Bonnie's hand was till on his and Lando started cresting without knowing. "Who's your favorite team?" He couldn't help but ask.

Bonnie smirked, "Red Bull." She told and watched with a beaming smile as he fakes a hurt look.

"Now that hurts. Right here." He spoke in fake sadness as he pointed to his heart. They both giggled with each other. "I'll get you to change your team at the end of the night." He boldly told her.

Bonnie shook her head with a smile. "Tell me something about you. No race talk. I can tell you don't want to talk about it." She said to him.

Lando chuckled, that was right he didn't want to talk about his driving right now. He wanted to know this girl right in front of him.

"I hate sea food." He told her and couldn't help but wrinklie his noes up at the thought of it.

Bonnie chuckled. She liked it. Not her favorite but she could have in curtain things. "Really. Why?" She rested her elbow on the bar and her chin rested in her hand to look at him.

Lando shook his head, "Just don't. Don't like the texture." He explained. "Do you?"

She hummed. "I can have it in curtain things, But not all the time." She told him and took a sip of her drink.

"Tell me something about yourself." Lando spoke as he watched her.

"I can speak Five languages." She smirked and watched his eyes widen.

"Wow. What are they?'

"Dunch, French, Russian, Latin and Japanese." She smiled

Lando leaned back in aww. "Wow I can't even learn a new language. Never mind five." He spoke impressed. She kept getting better to him.

She was everything he ever wanted in a girl. And not in a cocky way. in a more, he has found the one for him way. She was witty and he could just tell that she would be fun to have around.

Bonnie shrugged, "I was a homeschooled kid. My father was traveling everywhere, and I guess I just picked it up." She told him.

"You might need to come with me to my racers, you can be my spokesperson." He teased. Bonnie chuckled.

"Let's not get ahead of our self-Mr. Norris." She teased with a smirk. Their hands were still together.

Lando giggled with her. He watched in aww as she giggled. "Your very beautiful." He couldn't help but blurt out.

Bonnie blushed. She never blushed. She looked down and when she looked up Lando was smiling at her. Not smirking at her, like he was happy with his comment. No, he smiles like he was admiring her and her beauty.

And he was.

"You're not bad." She shot back with a smile. And it widened as she saw him blush.

They both sat there with blushing cheeks. That night they talked all night. They had found themselves at ease with each other. It was easy to just talk and not be judged.

Bonnie couldn't help but be attracted to him. And not just by his looks but by how he talked about his family. His hobbies and generally. He was the life of the party but deep inside there was a whole different side to him.

Lando was in love by the end of the night. He had found she was a businesswoman, running her own company and traveled for work. He had found her easy to talk to. He had found she had a poodle dog and loved him more than anything.

That night they had formed a connection that would make and break them. For better and for worse.

But no matter the outcome maybe love can overcome it all. After all, if you love someone you love all of them or not at all.

This is going to be a short series. You can request other things as well.

[svt-luna]

ʚ WRITINGS ɞ

One-shot chapters

synopsis: Completed one-shots of certain events in the Luna-Verse timeline throughout the years in chronological order.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

If only

╰ 2017 & 2018 - A moment of vulnerability, a confession left unanswered, and a heart quietly breaking— If only things had gone differently, but some stories take time to unfold.

Can I be him?

╰ 2017 & 2018 - Amid the tangled emotions between Luna, Jeonghan, and Mingyu, unspoken confessions and lingering hopes weave a bittersweet narrative of love, regret, and the desperate longing to be chosen.

Talking to the moon

╰ 2018 - After months of avoidance and awkward interactions, two hearts finally break their barriers, sharing confessions under the moonlight and finding the closure they both desperately needed.

His english love affair (18+)

╰ 2019 - What starts as playful teasing quickly spirals into something deeper, where teasing words and lingering touches lead to a line neither of them can ever uncross.

Nothing matters but you

╰ 2019 - When exhaustion and vulnerability collide, Jeonghan's quiet devotion proves that even in the midst of chaos, only one thing truly matters.

Nobody knows

╰ 2020 - After a year of stolen glances and secret meetings, one reckless moment in the practice room turns Jeonghan and Luna’s hidden relationship into the group’s loudest revelation.

Let the world burn

╰ 2022 - After Luna gets injured during Be The Sun tour rehearsal in Bangkok, her members— willing to do anything and everything for her— refuse to let her face it alone.

She will be loved

╰ 2022 - Despite her injury, Luna takes the stage with unwavering grace, surrounded by the love and support of her fans and members, proving that no matter what, she will always be loved.

Moonstruck

╰ 2022 - Jeonghan’s life had always been filled with quiet realizations about Luna— the way he loved her, the way she changed him— but nothing struck him harder than the moment he knew, with unwavering certainty, that he wanted to marry her.

The boy is mine (18+)

╰ 2023 - In the city of love, Luna finally snaps and learns just how far she’ll go to protect what’s hers.

Say yes to heaven, say yes to me

╰ 2024 - Beneath the moonlit skies of Berlin, a moment years in the making sparks a whirlwind of love, laughter, and unspoken promises, with a diamond shining as bright as their future.

They don’t know about us

╰ 2024 - When their five-year secret relationship is exposed, Luna and Jeonghan navigate the chaos of public scrutiny, media frenzy, and agency interference— only to prove that no one really knows them except the people who truly matter.

Him and I

╰ 2024 - In a momentous night filled with cheers, Luna must confront the void of Jeonghan’s absence, finding solace in the echoes of his unwavering support from afar.

Soldier

╰ 2024 - At his military training graduation, Jeonghan stands tall as a soldier— but it’s Luna’s surprise arrival that brings him to his knees in love all over again.

Candyman (18+)

╰ 2024 - After coming home from Jeonghan’s military training graduation, the uniform, the weeks apart, and the tension of missing each other become too much to resist— until they finally unravel in each other’s arms.

Birds of a feather

╰ 2024 - Amid the rush of the MAMA Awards and the whirlwind of victories, Luna and Jeonghan share quiet moments of love and reflection, as their hearts connect through wins, speeches, and emotions that speak louder than words.

Santa baby

╰ 2024 - On a Christmas Eve brimming with emotion, Luna and Jeonghan exchange gifts that bring tears, laughter, and a profound realization that in each other, they’ve already won the greatest gift of all.

Drive you insane (18+)

╰ 2025 - After weeks of mutual teasing and denial, Jeonghan and Luna’s secret plan to surprise each other with bold hairstyle changes ignites a night of explosive passion, proving they know exactly how to drive each other insane.

No. 1 party anthem

╰ 2025 - At TWS’s first concert in Seoul, Jeonghan and Luna show up looking like the hottest rockstar couple with Seungkwan as their reluctant, third-wheeling son— causing chaos, PDA, and social media meltdowns in their wake.

Juno

╰ 2025 - coming soon !

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - selఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy

[evesfate]

I FEEL THE RUSH .ᐟ

✶ TENNIS REALITY

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

EST 2021.

━━ IRIS “THE SPARK” TSHIANI.

born in 2001 . BLOOD , SWEAT , TEARS . raised in lyon, nice then paris, she’s been in love with tennis since she could remember. as she held a racquet for the very first time and dreamt of grand slams, her family never doubted her determination to make it happen. after years of silent and committed work, her talent became undeniable when she, ranked low at the time, outplayed naomi osaka in an early round of the 2020 miami open. the response of the international tennis community after that was unanimous: iris was the new face of french tennis. france’s new hope. and she was damn well set on honoring that title.

iris has also long sparked rumors about her love life. while the media speculated about her sexuality, she simply let the whispers linger, never confirming or denying a thing. she didn’t mind the attention at first— in fact, she often played into it, letting speculations run wild. there was no public announcements, no official statements. the way she saw it, it wasn’t needed. however, when she found herself caught between two souls, the complicated nature of her relationships became much harder to conceal.

𝓈ongs associated with this reality . . .

𝒶fter midnight . chappell roan

𝓵es . childish gambino

𝒷illie bossa nova . billie eilish

𝓸rdinary things . ariana grande

𝒷efore i let go . beyoncé

[kathlare]

sparks fly

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie find themselves unexpectedly alone during a late-night gaming session with their usual crew.

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

April 2nd, 2020 - London, United Kingdom

Lando adjusted his headset for the third time and tried not to stare at his Discord screen like a fucking idiot.

She was gonna join any second now.

The boys had sworn they’d be on too. “Usual squad night,” George had said. “7PM sharp, don’t be late,” Charles had texted. Alex even sent a meme five minutes ago in their group chat like nothing was off.

But Lando had this weird feeling—tight in his chest, crawling up his neck like heat—that something was very off.

And then the Discord voice channel pinged.

Amelie joined.

Her mic clicked on before she even spoke, and the first thing Lando heard was her laugh—soft, almost breathy, and she said, —Why the fuck am I the only one here?—

Lando scrambled to unmute.

—Hey,— he said, way too fast. Way too eager. He cleared his throat. Chill, mate, Jesus. —Uh, yeah, I’m here too. Guess the others are running late or something?—

—Running late or ghosting us?— Amelie replied, and Lando could hear the smirk in her voice. —Should we be offended?—

Lando laughed, nervous as hell. He leaned back in his chair, legs kicking slightly under his desk like they always did when he was fidgety. He prayed to every possible god that his voice wouldn’t crack.

—Honestly, probably. George owes me like three matches after yesterday. This feels personal.—

She snorted. —Right? And Charles said “7 sharp” like it was a blood oath. Traitors.—

The call settled into a weird, crackling kind of silence after that—comfortable but charged. Like they were both waiting for something to happen. For the others to pop in and save them from… whatever this was.

But no one came.

Lando glanced again at the player list.

Still just her. Just Amelie.

And him.

He tugged the sleeve of his hoodie over his palm and muttered a soft —fuck— under his breath, not into the mic. This was the first time—ever—they’d been alone in a call together. No Charles to interrupt with some stupid soundboard. No George yelling over everyone. No Alex cackling at his own jokes. Just him. And her.

And his heartbeat was absolutely pounding.

—So...— she said slowly, drawing the word out with a teasing lilt. —You gonna carry me, Norris, or should I just log off and go read a book or something boring?—

He huffed a laugh. Jesus Christ. She made it sound so easy, like they hadn’t just been abandoned on purpose. Not that either of them knew that yet.

—Depends,— he said, grabbing his controller, hands slightly clammy. —Do you actually plan to shoot people this time, or are you still just running around looking for clothes and snacks?—

Amelie gasped. Actually gasped.

—Excuse me, I loot with style. That’s called strategy, thank you very much.—

He smiled. That kind of crooked, embarrassed smile he only ever got when she was teasing him like that. Like she saw through all the bullshit and didn’t care.

—Yeah, okay. Strategy. Sure. You gonna wear that strategy while I get shot in the ass again?—

—You’re being dramatic.—

—You left me for a purple leather jacket last night!— he said, voice pitching, mock offended. —You just watched me bleed out on the street while you were like, “Ooh shiny trench coat!”—

She broke into laughter. Full, unfiltered, soft as hell. He grinned like a fucking idiot.

God, he thought. I’m so screwed.

Because now that it was just the two of them, Lando realized something terrifying: it was better without the others. Quieter. Sharper. Every word, every little laugh she made—it hit harder. Landed deeper. Her attention was just on him. And that was... dangerous.

And also addictive.

They launched into a match, the screen full of rapid movement and noise, but the air between them stayed threaded with that same strange tension. Comfortable, and sparking with something unspoken.

Somewhere halfway through the game, she muttered, —Lan, behind you.—

It wasn’t the first time she’d called him that. But this time it felt different. Like he’d earned it. Like it meant something.

—You okay?— she asked after he got shot, her voice softer now, headphones catching the edge of her concern.

He swallowed. —Yeah. You were watching my back?—

—Always.—

Fuck.

He didn’t respond for a beat too long. She must’ve noticed, because he heard her laugh again, this time quieter. Nervous maybe. Or shy.

Neither of them mentioned it.

They kept playing. Kept talking. Until the game ended and neither one of them logged off.

At some point, Lando glanced at the clock. Nearly midnight for him. She had to be tired too—Mexico time and all—but neither of them moved.

Instead, Amelie said, —Hey...—

He perked up. —Yeah?—

—You’re actually fun when you're not yelling at George.—

He chuckled. —You’re actually nice when you’re not stealing jackets off dead bodies.—

She giggled. —Touché.—

And then it happened again. That silence. But it wasn’t awkward this time. It was thick. Like static. Like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be said—but neither of them dared to say it.

They both knew something had shifted.

Not that they would admit it.

Not tonight.

But when she finally said, —Alright, I should probably go to sleep,— he almost said Don’t go.

Instead, he said, —Yeah. Sleep well, Ames.—

Her voice was sleepy, soft. —You too, Lan.—

And just before she left the call, he thought he heard her sigh. Just a little. Like she didn’t really want to hang up either.

The channel went quiet.

Lando sat there, alone in the dim blue light of his screen, heart racing like he’d just finished a quali lap.

He grinned, cheeks warm.

—Fuck,— he whispered to himself.

The boys were so gonna make fun of him.

And he didn’t even care.

-------------

-------------

The next evening, Lando clicked into Discord with the same buzz of nervous energy fizzing in his chest.

This time, though, the voice channel was already alive.

—Oi, lover boy’s here!— George’s voice exploded through his headset before Lando could even adjust his mic.

Lando groaned audibly. —Oh, fuck off...—

—Did you sleep at all last night or were you too busy dreaming about her?— Alex chimed in, voice smug and syrupy. —Bet he slept with his headset on. Whispered her name into his pillow.—

—“Ames… oh Ames… revive me again, baby,”— Charles mocked in a falsetto so bad it looped around into hilarious. —“Loot me some love, please.”—

Lando slapped his palm over his face. —You’re all actual children.—

—Awww, he’s blushing!— George cackled. —Look at him! Turn your camera on, coward. Let us see those pink cheeks.—

—Not a chance,— Lando grumbled, sinking further into his chair like he could physically disappear from the embarrassment vibrating through his entire body.

The boys were relentless.

—So…— Charles drawled, his accent somehow making it sound more dramatic. —What did happen, hmm? You guys were alone for over two hours. No interruptions. No Charles-shaped third wheel. Sparks must’ve flown, non?—

—We strategically didn’t join,— Alex added smugly. —You’re welcome, by the way.—

Lando groaned louder, dragging both hands down his face this time. —You planned that? You absolute pricks.—

—Uh, duh,— George said. —We’re not subtle. We’ve been trying to get you to admit your hopeless crush for, like, years. Last night was just our most genius plan yet.—

—And it worked beautifully,— Alex said with a satisfied sigh, like he’d just nailed the final move in a chess match. —Honestly, I should write a book. How to Third-Wheel Your Friends Into a Relationship by Alex Albon.—

—You're all so unbelievably annoying,— Lando muttered, but he couldn’t even be mad. Not really. His cheeks were still warm, and yeah, maybe he had replayed her laugh in his head last night like a complete simp. Maybe her saying “always” had kept him up longer than he’d admit.

George, predictably, wasn’t done. —What’d you talk about, huh? Did she say you were her favorite? Did she confess her undying love while shooting zombies and looting jackets? Tell us everything, lover boy.—

Lando threw his head back in exasperation. —Nothing happened! We just played the game. Talked a bit. That’s it.—

—That’s it? You’re telling me two beautiful idiots with unresolved tension get left alone on purpose and nothing happened? I don’t believe you.—

—George,— Charles whispered dramatically, —He’s lying. He’s protecting the sacred flirt session. Respect.—

And then...

Ping.

A new icon popped up in the channel.

Amelie joined.

And just like that, dead silence.

The call went so quiet Lando could hear someone’s chair creak. Probably Alex. The boys had frozen instantly, like they'd all been hit with a stun grenade.

Lando’s spine straightened like he’d been electrocuted.

Her mic clicked on.

—Hey, nerds,— Amelie said casually, completely unaware of the landmine she’d just stepped on. —Why are you all so quiet? Did someone die?—

A strangled noise came from George that might’ve been a cough—or a panicked wheeze. Charles smacked something, probably trying to mute his laughter.

—Nope! All good here!— Alex said way too fast. —Just, uh… updating drivers. Tech stuff. Boring.—

Lando was going to murder them all.

Amelie paused. There was something suspicious in the pause. Like she knew.

Because of course she did.

Her tone shifted, just slightly. Less amused. More... curious.

—Uh huh,— she said. —So you weren’t just talking about me, or anything. Right?—

Lando winced. He knew she knew.

George made the most unconvincing noise of denial ever uttered by a human being. —What? No. You? Never. We were talking about… uh… Charles’s baguette addiction.—

—He eats like three a day,— Alex added. —It’s actually alarming.—

Charles, affronted, gasped. —Baguettes are culturally essential, thank you very much.—

Amelie laughed. It was soft but pointed.

—Mmm. Sure. Baguettes. Got it.—

And then—because she was evil—she said sweetly, —Nice to know you boys are still full of shit.—

Lando couldn’t help it—he barked a laugh.

—God, you're insufferable,— she said, clearly fighting a grin, probably imagining the panic she’d just caused. Then, smoothly, she added, —You gonna carry me tonight too, Lan? Or are you still traumatized from the trench coat incident?—

The boys exploded.

—Lan?! Again?!—

—Oh my god, kill me. I’m actually deceased.—

—Just bury me now. They’ve got nicknames.—

Lando leaned back in his chair and let it wash over him, the teasing, the chaos, her voice mixing with theirs like she belonged there. Because she did. She always had.

And yeah, they were all absolute menaces—but he didn’t mind.

Not when she was here. Not when she was laughing.

He smiled to himself, eyes flicking toward her icon on the screen.

So screwed.

And maybe… maybe okay with it.