#47 errors

[chad-danaki]

Sad, But True

[faaun]

.

[blconnoisseur]

JUST FUCK ALREADY

[brainrot-yumm]

I havent posted my 6k fanfic shenanigans yet >~< I'm so scared to. I know I'm just doing my duty and putting fear smut out into the world but like. it scare

[robertreich]

Friends, Since I offered you 10 reasons for modest optimism last week, discontent with the Trump-Musk regime has surged even further. America appears to be waking up. Here’s the latest evidence — 10 more reasons for modest optimism. 1. Trump’s approval ratings continue to plummet. The chief reason Trump was elected was to reduce the high costs of living — especially food, housing, health care, and gas. A new Pew poll shows these costs remain uppermost in Americans’ minds. Sixty-three percent identify inflation as an overriding problem, and 67 percent say the same about the affordability of health care. That same poll shows the public turning on Trump. The percent of those disapproving of Trump’s handling of the economy has risen to 53 percent (versus 45 percent who approve). Disapproval of his actions as president has risen to the same 53 percent versus 45 percent approval, which shows how essential economic performance is to the public’s assessment of presidents these days. The Pew poll also shows 57 percent of the public believes that Trump “has exceeded his presidential authority.” By making the world’s richest person his hatchet man, Trump has made more vivid the role of money in politics. Hence, a record-high 72 percent now say a major problem is “the role of money in politics.” Other polls show similar results. In the Post-Ipsos poll, significantly more Americans strongly disapprove of Trump (39 percent) than strongly approve of him (27 percent). Reuters, Quinnipiac University, CNN, and Gallup polls show Trump’s approval ratings plummeting (ranging from 44 percent to 47 percent). In all of these polls, more Americans now disapprove of Trump than approve of him. 2. DOGE is running amusk. DOGE looks more and more like a giant hoax. This week, reporters found that nearly 40 percent of the contracts DOGE claims to have canceled aren’t expected to save the government any money, according to the administration’s own data. As a result, on Tuesday DOGE deleted all of the five biggest “savings” on its so-called “wall of receipts.” The scale of its errors — and the misunderstandings and poor quality control that appear to underlie them — has raised questions about the effort’s broader work, which has led to mass firings and cutbacks across the federal government. DOGE has also had to reverse its firings. On Tuesday, Secretary of Veterans Affairs Douglas A. Collins celebrated cuts to 875 contracts that he claimed would save nearly $2 billion. But when veterans learned that those contracts covered medical services, recruited doctors, and funded cancer programs as well as burial services for veterans, the outcry was so loud that on Wednesday the VA rescinded the ordered cuts. After hundreds of nuclear weapons workers were abruptly fired, the Trump administration is scrambling to rehire them. After hundreds of scientists at the Food and Drug Administration were fired, they’re being asked to return. On Wednesday, Musk acknowledged that DOGE “accidentally canceled” efforts by the U.S. Agency for International Development to prevent the spread of Ebola. But Musk insisted the initiative was quickly restored. Wrong. Current and former USAID officials say Ebola prevention efforts have been largely halted since Musk and his DOGE allies moved last month to gut the global-assistance agency and freeze its outgoing payments. The teams and contractors that would be deployed to fight an Ebola outbreak have been dismantled, they added. DOGE staff are resigning. On Tuesday, 21 federal civil service tech workers resigned from DOGE, writing in a joint resignation letter that they were quitting rather than help Musk “dismantle critical public services.” The staffers all worked for what was known as the U.S. Digital Service before it was absorbed by DOGE. Their ranks include data scientists, product managers, and engineers. According to the Associated Press, “all previously held senior roles at such tech companies as Google and Amazon and wrote in their resignation letter that they joined the government out of a sense of duty to…

Read the full list here: https://robertreich.substack.com/p/more-reasons-for-moderate-optimism

[hhaechansmoless]

LIGHTS OUT PT.2

pairing: f1driver!haechan x PRmanager!femreader

genre: fluff, angst, romance

description: Part of the Beyond The Grid series. Haechan, bold, aggressive and unrelenting, is back after a narrowly missed opportunity to become the world champion in 2024. This time, he's set his sight on making it all the way to the top. You, as his newly appointed PR representative, are assigned with the task of keeping up with a world of high stakes, unpredictable twists and well, him.

warnings: strong language, stressful situations, descriptions of car crashes and physical exhaustion, slowburn, honestly quite f1 heavy

w/c: part 1 - 17.8k part 2 - 15.8k glossary taglist a/n: the last part!! for any errors in descriptions of any of these places, reminder: i've never been there LOL. Writing Haechan in this threw him back into my bias list (very up high too) and it was so fun :)) this is the biggest fic i have ever written and i think that I'd like to be proud of it. I hope you all like it too! (If you do, i may or may not have a ferrari scoups fic in the working to make this into a series for all my caratzens 👀 so please be on the lookout for that as well!) This might have a few typos ngl...proofread this half late at night so excuse them 😔Please feel free to comment or send an ask about your thoughts on this. Feedback is always appreciated <3

COLOGNE, GERMANY

September 12th

You: Haechan you’ve been to Cologne before right? What was the name of that restaurant you said you really liked? In Alstadt. [12:47]

Lee Haechan (RB): Are you in Cologne rn? [12:47]

You: Yeah!!! My sister and I decided to go on a little girls trip since yk there’s a break. She has a college sem break now too so the timing was perfect haha Anyways, what's the name? [12:48]

Lee Haechan (RB): What the hell 😭 omg where are you exactly rn This is INSANE I’m ALSO here with my SISTER ??? [12:48}

You: NO WAY??? We’re walking back from the cathedral rn Old town’s like 2 mins away by walk where are YOU? [12:48]

Lee Haechan (RB): There’s this lock store thing nearby in old town My sister wanted to buy one for her and her boyfriend so we’re going to head there after lunch 🙄 We should eat togetherrrr ask your sister Mine’s fine with it. [12:48]

“Rina,” You call your sister to grab her attention. She hums as she turns one last time to take another photo of the cathedral looming in the distance, “Promise me you won’t freak out.”

She turns to look at you then, furrowing her brows, “Why?”

“So I asked the friend that I told you I’d be asking…” You grimace as she stares at you for a moment before it clicks.

“Ah! The guy you lowkey have a crush on but will not admit it. Yes, why?” She grins, looping her arm through yours as you begin to walk again.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes, “Coincidentally, he’s here too and he’s wondering if we can catch lunch together. He’s with his sister too.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the excitement coursing through your sister, a small jump in her next step as her hand tightens around yours.

“Yes! Tell him we’ll come,” Rina giggles, “Oh, I can’t wait to meet this guy!”

You sigh again, regretting your decision already, “Please don’t embarrass me? And don’t say anything I wouldn’t want you to say, okay?”

She nods her head, lips stretching into a smile, “Go on, tell him!” 

You pull your phone out of your coat pocket.

You: We’ll come!! Are you sure your sister is fine w it? [12:50]

To your surprise, your phone buzzes in your hands, Haechan’s profile pic flashing on your screen.

You quickly swipe to answer, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “Hello?”

“Hey,” his voice is casual, but you can hear the underlying excitement. “I figured it’d be easier to call. Are you in Alstadt now? My sister is really excited, by the way.”

You take a moment to look around the old town. It’s a charming sight, cobbled roads with colourful, narrow buildings leaning against each other. The air carries a faint scent of fresh pastries from cozy cafes nestled between quaint shops selling handcrafted trinkets and souvenirs. There’s a relaxed and calm energy in the air from the soft murmur of laughter and conversation drifting out of the many breweries in the area. 

“Yep, where do we go?”

“Awesome. Okay, see the fountain in the middle of the square?” Haechan asks, his voice clear through the phone. “We’re at this brewery right behind it. It’s got these big wooden barrels outside and a green sign. You can’t miss it.”

You look up, spotting the fountain just ahead, surrounded by people taking photos and chatting. “Yeah, I see the fountain. We’re heading over now.”

“Cool,” Haechan replies, his voice light. “I’m standing outside so you can spot me.”

You can’t help but smile. “Alright, see you in a bit.”

“See ya,” he says, and the call stays connected, neither of you hanging up.

It’s strange how comfortable it feels, just having him on the other end of the line. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to hang up first or if he’s waiting to spot you. You don’t have the heart to hang up either.

Your sister, on the other hand, has no qualms about your situation. She pokes your shoulder, her voice loud enough for Haechan to probably hear. “Are we going or what?”

You snap out of your thoughts, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah, we’re going.” 

The sun shines bright over the square, but there’s still a chill in the air. It’s pleasant and frankly it’s exactly the weather you love. As you pass the fountain, the sunlight glinting off the water, you promise Rina that you can take photos on your way out. Just beyond it, you spot the brewery Haechan described, the wooden barrels outside and the green sign hanging above the door. And there he is, leaning casually against the wall. 

He’s wearing a slightly oversized beige knit sweater that looks warm and comfortable, the fabric soft and relaxed around his shoulders. It contrasts nicely against his black jeans. His hair falls messily over his forehead, tousled by the breeze, and he looks so put-together that it takes you a second to remember how to breathe.

I see you,” you say softly, your heart doing a little flip.

You see him perk up, his eyes searching the crowd before locking on you. A bright smile spreads across his face, and he waves.

You wave back, suddenly feeling shy before you cut the call.

“Is that him?” Rina whistles. Haechan stands a little awkwardly, hands tucked into his pockets as he waits for the two of you to come over. As you come closer though, Rina gasps.

“What the fuck? That’s Haechan.” She stops in her tracks, hand falling out from yours.

You nod sheepishly, scratching your neck, “Yeah…”

“You have a crush on Lee fucking Haechan, shut up.” Her mouth falls open. You grimace before pulling her along again. 

“Please behave yourself.” 

“Do you think I could ask for an autograph?” She pipes up, “I didn’t want to ask you till now cause I didn’t know if it would be appropriate but holy shit, you like him and by the looks of it, he does too so I think it would be fine.”

“Rina, stop.” You grit out, still smiling.

“Hey, you made it!” Haechan’s smile grows wider when you approach. Without thinking, he moves in closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders for a brief second, a quick, casual side hug as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s barely more than a brush, just enough for you to feel his warmth against your side, his fingers resting lightly on your shoulder before he pulls away just as quickly. 

Rina grins at you, making you narrow your eyes as you turn back to Haechan. 

“Haechan, meet Rina, my sister. Rina,” You point at him, “This is Haechan.”

He holds out his hand for her to shake, which she takes willingly.

“I don’t mean to make this awkward,” Rina begins, “And she’s probably going to kill me for saying it so soon, but I’m a big fan! You were really cool in Austria!”

Haechan laughs, eyes flitting over to you once, “Thank you. She’s really mean about it though, isn’t she? She never tells me that I do well.”

“I just don’t want to inflate your ego,” You roll your eyes defensively, “And hey! I do tell you sometimes.”

He nods, but you see the look he shoots your sister, making her giggle in agreement.

“Anyways, let’s go in, Dahyun’s already caught us a seat.”

—

The plates on the table are mostly empty, remnants of lunch scattered between glasses of half-full beer and water. The lively chatter coming from the other side of the table contrasts the comfortable silence between you and Haechan.

You lean back in your chair, eyes fixed on Rina, who’s explaining something to Dahyun, her hands moving wildly as she talks. Dahyun watches her with rapt attention, nodding along enthusiastically, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“They’ve really hit it off, huh?” Haechan’s voice is low and close, his shoulder just barely brushing yours as he leans in.

You smile, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t expect them to get along so well.”

Haechan hums, “Dahyun’s usually shy around new people, so this is a nice surprise.”

You glance at him, taking in the soft, fond smile on his face, “She’s cute. I was honestly worried that Rina might be a bit too much. She’s—if it’s not obvious already—the extroverted one between the two of us.”

“You talk to a lot of new people, though,” Haechan turns to look at you, “Quite confidently, too.”

“It comes with the job,” You shrug.

“Speaking of, it’s nice to meet outside of work, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re probably glad I’m not eating your ear off about saying the right things, no?” You joke, expecting him to laugh and retort. Instead, he looks slightly taken aback.

“No, I don’t mind it.” Haechan tells you, but when you shoot an unsure look, he continues, “I mean, at first it was a bit weird. You were all business, all the time. But then I got used to it... and now...” He trails off, his eyes flicking to yours before quickly looking away. “Now, I like having you around.”

Your pulse quickens, not expecting him to sound so serious. “Oh,” is all you manage to put out.

He seems to want to say something else when a burst of laughter from across the table catches your attention. Dahyun and Rina are completely lost in conversation, their heads bent close over Dahyun’s phone as they snicker at something.

“It’s kind of crazy how we’re both at the same place, if you think about it.” Haechan scoffs, smiling at them, “And crazy how they’re getting along. So random.”

“I’m pretty sure I overheard them exchanging numbers too.” You giggle, “Guess it was just meant to be.” You glance at him.

Haechan’s gaze is already on you, his eyes softening, “Yeah, maybe it was.”

You’re not sure who looks away first when the moment is broken by Dahyun.

“Oh! The love locks!” she exclaims, her eyes bright as she turns to Haechan. “We’re going after this, right?”

Haechan sighs, “Yeah, yeah.”

Dahyun beams, turning to Rina. “There’s this bridge nearby where couples put locks on the railings and throw the key into the river. It’s supposed to be, like, a forever thing. Isn’t that cute?”

Rina’s eyes widen with excitement. “That’s adorable! We should put one too,” She looks at you.

You laugh, “Hey, you can’t get rid of me. We’re already sisters forever, or whatever.”

“Still,” She insists.

“Oh my god,” Dahyun gasps, “We should all put one together! Like... as a memory of today!”

Her words hang in the air. All of you? Together? Your eyes flick to Haechan only to find him already looking at you. His expression is unreadable, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he looks away, a small smile playing on his lips.

Rina claps her hands excitedly. “That’s such a cute idea! And we can write the date on it too!” She turns to you, her eyes sparkling. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

You hesitate, feeling strangely shy. “I mean... yeah, I guess that could be cute.”

Haechan leans back in his chair, his arm resting casually on the back of yours. “You sure? Thought you’d think it's cheesy.”

You scoff but your lips curve up anyways.

It’s just a lock. It’s just a silly little tradition, you try convincing yourself.

But the thought won’t leave your mind. The image of writing on that lock, snapping it in place on the bridge... standing next to Haechan, side by side, surrounded by hundreds of other locks glinting in the sun. You can almost feel the warmth of his shoulder against yours, hear his soft laughter as you fumble with the key. It’s silly. Completely unrealistic. But the thought makes your chest flutter all the same.

“Okay!” Dahyun announces, breaking you out of your thoughts. “It’s settled then. We’re all getting one!”

She looks so excited that you can’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright. I’m in.”

“To be fair,” you turn to Haechan as you get up from your seat, slipping your arms into your coat, “This seems like the kind of thing you’d call cheesy too.”

He shrugs, helping you pull the sleeve as you struggle with your left arm, “Yeah, but it’s different if it’s with you.”

You freeze. His eyes are bright, reflecting the golden afternoon light. You don’t see the playful spark in them that’s present whenever he pulls pranks on his engineers and mechanics. Are you just imagining it, or does he look the most sincere you’ve ever seen him?

You tear your gaze away, clearing your throat, “What is that even supposed to mean?”

He laughs, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “C’mon, let’s catch up before they leave us behind.”

Without a second thought, he holds out his hand to you, palm open and waiting. You try not to stare, hesitating for a moment before slipping your hand into his. 

Haechan’s fingers curl around yours, slowly, maybe a little unsure now that he’s already done it. You lose your breath at the way it feels so right.

For the first time, as he leads the two of you out, you stop trying to convince yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. Right now, it’s starting to feel like everything.

SINGAPORE, MARINA BAY STREET CIRCUIT

Thursday, Media day October 2nd

Haechan walks out of the meeting room with a lot more on his shoulders than he had walking into it an hour ago. There's a sense of finality, excitement in him as he peeps into the corridor, wondering where you are. At the same time, it feels like the biggest burden ever. Six years he's prepared for this, fought for this and now that the weekend is already here, he is overwhelmed beyond words. Even though he's known that it's been coming this entire season, even though he came close to it last year, Haechan realizes that no matter how many times it happens, he might never get used to it.

He sees you walking towards him, turning into the corridor he's in. Your eyes are stuck on your tablet, strides long and in a rush.

He realizes you're the first one he's going to tell. It's electrifying.

You come to a stop in front of him, beginning to greet him when he stops you by putting both his hands on your shoulders. His hand shakes a little and you notice it.

“Are you alright? Do you feel si-”

“They said I could win the championship this weekend.” 

Haechan watches as you smile, like you already knew. Do you?

Your smile grows, “I know! I just got the news. The press will probably ask you about it.” 

He leans against the wall, hand coming up to his heart, “I can't believe it, honestly.”

“You can do this!” You grin, “I'm so happy for you, genuinely. Finishing the championship with like 6 more races left is crazy and you're so close to it.”

“You think I can do it?” Usually Haechan asks such questions when he's completely confident and digging for compliments, but today you know he really means it.

“I believe in you, come on.” You drag him, “You will be fine. Right now, there's a press conference to get to.”

“You're going in with Seungcheol, Doyoung and Jeonghan.” You inform him as you leave the hospitality and head towards the FIA building. “They will definitely ask you about the drivers championship and since Choi is also there, there'll be questions about the constructors too. There's no need to make digs at anyone right now, so be careful.”

“What do I tell them if they ask about the drivers championship? Fuck, I really don't know what to say.” He sighs, shaking his head, “It feels kind of unreal.”

“It's better to play it safe right now. I'm sure that this weekend decides if you're going to be champion, not Jaehyun, right? So even if you don't win here you don't have to be too worried. Don't freak out so much. You only have to tell them that you're focusing on the race here. There's no need to commit to anything beyond that.” You bite your lip, “Honestly Haechan, you'll be fine. Say what comes to your mind, just don't sound overconfident, alright?”

He nods. You give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the two of you enter the conference room. You'll be sitting behind the reporters, right there. He has nothing to be worried about.

The moderator begins to speak as Haechan sits down next to Seungcheol, “Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to the FIA driver's press conference ahead of the Singapore Grand Prix. Joining us today, on my right we have Doyoung from Mercedes, Jeonghan from Williams, Seungcheol from Ferrari and Haechan from Red Bull.”

The first few questions from the moderator are directed towards the other three, with Jeonghan answering questions about how it's getting more competitive in the midfield right now, to Doyoung talking about the problems he's been facing with the car as of late. The next question, though, goes to Seungcheol.

“Seungcheol, Ferrari are in contention against Red Bull for both the Driver's and the Constructors’ Championship, and it seems the team’s focus has shifted more towards Jaehyun’s title fight. How are you balancing supporting the team’s goals with pursuing your own results this weekend?” The moderator asks.

Haechan can tell it ticks off the man beside him.

“The team’s goal is to secure the best possible result in the Constructors’ Championship, and I’m fully committed to contributing to that. Jaehyun’s in the title fight, and it makes sense for Ferrari to back him. But that doesn’t mean I’m just here to play support. I’m still a competitor, and I’m racing for myself too. My focus is on maximizing my own performance, and if that helps the team, then that’s a win-win.” Seungcheol asserts before setting his mic down.

“Thank you, Seungcheol. Moving on to our championship contender. Haechan, you have a chance to secure the driver's championship this weekend. How are you managing the pressure of that possibility, especially at a track as challenging as Singapore?”

Haechan clears his throat, “Yeah, I mean I'd be lying if I said there was no pressure. But it's a part of the job. I've learned that the moment you start thinking too ahead, you lose focus of what's in front of you right now. So I'm trying to take this entire weekend one step at a time. Singapore is a tough track, nothing's guaranteed. I'm going to approach it like any other race. Try to give my best. If it happens, it does. Otherwise we keep pushing.”

The moderator nods, “Well, all the very best to you. We'll now open the floor to questions from the media.”

A journalist in the first row stands up, “My question is for Haechan.”

“Hello,” Haechan smiles, earning polite laughter from the journalists.

“Both Seungcheol and Doyoung have been in your position before. Have you sought any advice from them on handling the pressure of a title decider?”

“I mean,” Haechan laughs a little, “Not really? I've seen first hand how they've handled it and that in itself has been sort of a lesson. But at the end of the day, all drivers experience things differently and deal with things differently. But who knows, maybe I should ask them.” He turns to look at the two world champions sitting near him.

Seungcheol throws a small smile, “You'd have to ask nicely.”

Haechan rolls his eyes at this, playfully poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue in mock irritation.

Doyoung laughs along with the rest of the room before speaking, “Honestly, with the way he's been driving this season, I wouldn't say he needs our advice.”

The next journalist stands up with a question for Seungcheol.

“There have been rumors going around since Monza that you might be in the talks of leaving Ferrari. Do you have anything to comment on about that?”

“Rumors are just that—rumors. Nothing is confirmed till you hear it from me. Right now, I'm focused on the constructors. Anything beyond that, we will talk when the time comes.” He says with an air of finality, giving the hint that he will not entertain more questions about this.

—

Lee Haechan (RB): Can you wait for me? I'm almost out of debriefing We're going to the same place anyways, I'll drive you [20:29]

You: stalker much? I'm in front of the Ferrari hospitality. [20:34]

Lee Haechan (RB): More like I saw you leaving in the morning Where are youuuu [20:36]

“Hey,” Haechan greets as he walks up to you.

You take his arrival as an excuse to leave, bidding farewell to Jaehyun's PR manager.

“God, you came at the right time, really.” You groan as the two of you walk into the parking lot.

“Why? She's that bad?”

“Don't even get me started,” You let out, exasperated, “I pity Jaehyun, honestly.”

Haechan lets out an offended noise as he opens the door of his car for you. You slip inside, too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice the gesture. When he gets into the driver's seat, he sighs.

“You can't pity my competitors, come on. Unless it's because of what's coming for them.” He jokes.

You sigh, swatting his arm, “No that's not it. She's weirdly really open with whatever is going on at their team. I think if we’d stayed a few more minutes she would’ve straight up started talking about the contract situations in Ferrari.”

“My first PR manager was like that too. And I think because I was a lot younger, he thought he could just control me and boss me around.” Haechan exhales as he drives out of the gates. 

It makes you bristle. “I hate people like that, honestly. Like you’ve got one job, it’s really not that hard to stick to it while being a nice person too.”

Haechan hums, nodding his head. 

“You know, thinking back on it, she was like that in college too. Never knew how to keep things to herself. She had this grand nickname— The Leaky Faucet.”

It makes him laugh. You can’t help but stare at him while he drives. He looks like he feels better than he did in the morning, his shoulders are more relaxed and his head gently moves to the beat of the song playing on the radio. The soft, dim glow of the dashboard makes his features look softer and more innocent.

You look away before he can catch you gazing. “Is the hotel far from the track? I didn’t really have the time to notice it in the morning.”

“Nah,” Haechan glances at you for a moment before focusing on the road again, “We’ll be there in like five minutes. Come to think of it, this is the first time you’re sitting in a car that I’m driving.”

You gasp, “Wow, it is! I’d give you a 4.8 rating out of 5.”

“Where did the 0.2 go?” He scoffs.

You sigh, sinking back into the seat, gazing outside the window at the Marina Bay Sands hotel outside, forever illuminated. “Nowhere. I need to keep your ego in check.”

“You wound me,” He says, making you laugh at the way it sounds so monotone, “By the way, I called my parents up today and they were so excited, I’m pretty sure they already booked tickets to fly in for tomorrow.”

You coo at that, unable to stop your lips from smiling, “That’s great! It’s insane honestly. I mean, you’ve probably heard it from so many people already, but I’m truly very excited for you.”

He pulls into the hotel entrance, shaking his head towards the valet to let him know that he’ll park the car himself. Looking back at you, he smiles. “Thanks pretty.”

If his words didn’t make your breath hitch, you’d be rolling your eyes right now, fighting the urge to pull him by the ears. Too bad you actually fucking like the stupid guy.

“Dahyun’s coming too, I think,” Haechan mumbles as he backs into a parking spot. He does it with only one hand, the other resting casually on the center console. He does it with so much ease that you have to blink a few times to snap out of your thoughts. The effortless way he controls the car, barely glancing at the mirrors, makes you wonder how many times he’s done this before. There’s something undeniably attractive about how relaxed and composed he is. You remind yourself that he’s a driver, for god sake. It would be concerning if he didn’t know how to park well.

“I honestly think she’s more excited to see you than see me win.” Haechan speaks again as he turns the ignition off, turning his body sideways to look at you.

Although you scoff, your heart warms at the thought of his sister liking you, “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Believe what you will,” He shrugs, “I’m telling the truth, though.”

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you. For a second, you let yourself savour the idea of being more involved in his world.

“You’re exaggerating, Haechan. But do tell her I’ll be happy to see her as well.” You say, getting out of the car. He follows you, gently shutting the door before locking it behind him.

As the elevator doors close, Haechan speaks up again. “I'm glad you two like each other, honestly. Hope your sister doesn't mind me either.”

You're about to laugh it off and tell him that Rina would love him anyways when the first part of his sentence hits you. A part of you wants to ask him why, wants to put a name on this, wants everything cleared up. The other part wants to let everything die down before you address anything.

Tonight, you ask anyway, sure that you'll regret whatever answer you hear from him. Both your rooms are coincidentally on the 25th floor giving you plenty of time to talk if you must.

“Haechan,” You begin, carefully, “Really, what do you mean by that?”

He looks at you properly, turning his entire body towards you. 

Haechan thinks you feel the same way that he does. Although you're professional most of the time, he's noticed the way you blush or look away when he throws something flirty at you. He's noticed the way you've become much more comfortable with him, the way you don't seem to mind how close you've become. The lines between coworkers and friends had been erased a while ago, but the line between friends and a little something more lies there in the space between you two, stretching long and thick. He wants to bend over it, hold your hand and jump onto your side to erase that too. He's just not sure if tonight is the night. So he makes himself, and hopefully you, a promise.

“Sunday,” He finally says, sounding a little short of breath but determined nonetheless, “I promise we’ll talk about this on Sunday, after the race.”

You nod. In a way you are relieved, but now that you know you're going to hear something from him, it keeps you on your toes. 

When the two of you get off the elevator on the 25th floor, Haechan stops you by grabbing your hand. You glance at it for a second and it makes him take his hand off. You wish you could tell him that you would rather him not do that.

“I hope this doesn't make it awkward between us for the next few days.” Haechan admits, looking down as he shuffles from one foot onto the other.

“Of course not,” You furrow your eyebrows, “It won't, don't worry.”

Your rooms are on two different ends of the corridor, so he shyly bids you goodbye and promises to leave only after he sees you go inside. You can't help the butterflies that rise in your stomach as you turn on your heels to go back to your room. You don't dare to turn back. You don't know if you can control yourself if you do.

—

Saturday, qualifying October 4th

“Welcome back to a crucial qualifying session here under the bright lights of the Marina Bay Circuit! We’re in for a tense evening, and one of the biggest stories heading into this weekend is Lee Haechan���s grid penalty. After taking a fresh energy store, the Red Bull driver will drop ten places from wherever he qualifies today.” 

“Yeah, and that’s a big blow for him. He’s got the chance to walk away with the driver’s championship this weekend, and on a track like Singapore, which is notoriously difficult on the drivers, that’s going to be a tough hill to climb on race day.”

Usually, you don’t sit through qualifying. There are more important things to do back at the hospitality. Articles to overview, media obligations to manage, last-minute preparations for whatever chaos might unfold post-session. But tonight is different. The Red Bull garage is packed, not just with the engineers and strategists and mechanics but with most of the crew that usually don’t attend. It’s an important qualifying that leads to an important day for not just Haechan but the entire team. The last time Red Bull had a world champion on their hands was a long time ago. 

His family is here too, in one of the corners of the garage where there are normal televisions to watch the qualifying. You see Dahyun wave at you and smile in return. You can’t walk up to her right now, but you’d already met her earlier in the day when her mother and her had stopped by the hospitality to grab a coffee before heading down to the garage during FP3. 

You turn your attention back to the screen when you see Haechan roll out of the garage for his first run. The RB21 glows under the artificial lights as he leaves the pitlane. 

“Out lap now. Track conditions look stable. Let’s build into it.”

“Copy.” Haechan responds. 

He’s worried. 

This grid penalty just had to fall on the weekend that mattered the most and there’s nothing he can do to even protest against it because it’s the team’s decision, and because it was done to maximise his performance this weekend in the first place.

As Haechan begins his outlap, he pushes the penalty out of his mind. He needs to focus on getting pole. It’s the only way he can lessen the damage. 

On the bright side, the car feels good under him. He approaches the corners confidently and the car is well balanced, taking the high speed straights well. Maybe the new energy stores were a good decision after all.

You watch as the first times come in. Doyoung sets the benchmark, a 1:35.982. Jeno follows, then Seungcheol. The screen flickers as sector times update, and you feel the tension build as Haechan’s name lights up purple in Sector 1. 

He’s faster than Doyoung by a tenth in sector 1. As Haechan approaches Sector 2, you’re on edge. If he can stay ahead here, sector 3 won’t be too hard. The screen flickers, and there it is—another purple. Faster than Doyoung again.

"Yes!" someone mutters under their breath. You can’t help but feel a surge of pride, even though it’s far from over. 

He hits the final stretch, and you watch as the seconds increase. The timing screens update, but this time, it's Haechan’s name that dominates. A 1:34.926. Purple across the board.

The garage erupts. The engineers shout in excitement, high-fiving each other. The team principal gives a nod of approval, but his focus is already on what’s next. Haechan’s provisional pole doesn’t guarantee anything yet, but it’s a damn good start.

The team radio crackles on Haechan’s side, “Mega job, Haechan. Mega. You can head in if you’d like.”

Haechan doesn’t have room to be satisfied with his performance. He will not, until he has a clear lead over the others. He wants to push, see how much more than a second he can go. Plus, Singapore is a track where the grip increases with more rubber lay-down.

“I’ll stay out.”

After a slow, recharge lap, the team watches as he winds up for another flying lap. It’s a gamble, his tires will have lost some of their peak performance, but if he nails the lap, it won’t matter.

“Alright, you’re clear,” his race engineer says. “Push now.”

Haechan’s first sector is clean and precise. He shaves off time where he can and maneuvers through the corners perfectly. Then comes sector 2. The garage watches as he approaches Turn 14, braking even later than before. The car responds sharply. The rear wobbles, side pods almost grazing the wall, so close that for a moment, everyone in the garage holds their breath. It’s the kind of moment where, if he gets it wrong, that’s the lap over.

But Haechan doesn’t lift. Doesn’t hesitate.

“That’s a purple sector 2. Doing good, push harder if possible.”

“I’m trying, man,” Haechan grits out. He’s already wringing every bit of performance out of the car.

He storms through sector 3, showing insane speed on the straights. You think that the people back at the factory who are most definitely watching right now, deserve to be really proud of themselves.

When Haechan crosses the line again, the times update.

1:34:582.

“What’s the gap?”

A beat of silence, then his engineer’s voice,“P1 by 1.4 seconds. You can box, box.”

And that is pole position occupied for the rest of quali, you think, unable to help the grin on your face as you watch his family celebrate.

The pitlane is still buzzing as the final cars complete their laps, but no one comes close. Haechan’s time remains untouchable. One by one, the names shuffle on the board, but his stays on top.

When the session ends, confirmation comes through. “Session over, P1 confirmed,” his engineer tells him. “We’ll start P10 tomorrow. Lots of work to do but good job, you did your best.”

Haechan knows it too. He climbs out of the car, removes his helmet, and though his face is calm, you know him well enough to see the flicker of frustration behind his eyes. Pole position means nothing when you have to give it up.

He barely has a moment to breathe before his family surrounds him, his mother pulling him into a tight hug before he can even react. He stumbles back a step, but his hands come up instinctively, resting on her back as she murmurs something only he can hear. Whatever frustration was lingering in his posture melts just slightly, replaced by something softer. 

Dahyun grins beside them, waiting for their mother to let go before nudging Haechan in the ribs. “Fastest man on track,” she teases. “Shame you’re not starting there.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, but there’s the briefest twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he wants to be annoyed but can’t help himself. His father claps him on the shoulder, saying something about how he drove well regardless, and for a moment, the tension of the session is forgotten.

You hesitate a few steps away, watching the scene unfold. You don’t usually get involved in moments like these. They’re personal, belonging to the drivers and their families, not to you. You know when to blend into the background, to let them have their time. But you also know when to step in, because there’s still a job to do.

Still, approaching feels different this time.

Adjusting the collar of your team polo shirt, you take a breath before stepping forward.

“Haechan,” you say, voice level, “we need to head to the media pen soon.”

He turns at the sound of your voice, eyes flicking to you before he gestures for you to come closer. “Oh, right—Dad, Mom, this is my PR rep,” he says casually, “She makes sure I don’t say anything that’ll get me fined.”

His father chuckles, holding out his hand, “Well, that must be a full time job.”

You shake it firmly, offering a small smile, “Some weekends more than the others. But he’s fine.”

“We appreciate it,” his mother says warmly. “This one can be a handful.”

Haechan groans, throwing his head back as he sets his helmet on the table, “Come on, I’m really not that bad, she said it herself!”

He turns to you, “Can we please leave before they say something that would actually look like I’m a PR liability?”

You laugh at that, smiling and nodding at his family before you leave behind him.

The paddock is still alive and will be for a few more hours to come. Mechanics start packing up, Jeno’s side practices a pit-stop, engineers bent over their data. Haechan walks ahead, his pace unhurried. He doesn’t look particularly frustrated, but you can tell the result is still sitting with him.

“You’re quiet,” you say as you catch up.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Just thinking.”

“You drove well.”

He hums, “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

“It could’ve been worse,” You point out, “You’ve done all that you could have.”

He sighs softly. “Yeah. Still feels shit, though.”

You don’t have anything to say to that.

The media pen is bright and waiting. You can see the other drivers and their representatives and trainers hanging around the area, probably waiting for their turn or coming out after finishing. The journalists wait, cameras and mics ready.

Haechan breathes in deeply, dragging a hand through his hair, fingers catching briefly before falling back to his side. Then, with barely a pause, he steps forward, and you follow.

—

The hotel is quieter than expected when you walk in. It’s a little late, but you did expect to see at least a few people from the team in the lobby. You step into the elevator, pressing your floor number before leaning back against the wall, already half distracted by your phone.

The doors are just about to close when a hand slides in between them.

Haechan.

He steps inside, the doors shutting behind him. You blink, caught off guard. It’s late. Too late for him to just be getting back.

“You’re back now?” you ask, brows furrowing.

He leans against the railing on the glass back-wall, hands stuffed into his hoodie’s pockets, eyes trained on the floor. “Meetings went on forever. The debrief was long and there’s a lot to do tomorrow.”

You nod to yourself. Of course there is.

“What about you though?” Haechan looks up, “Why were you down so late?”

“I went to dinner with a friend,” You shrug.

“How was it?” He hums before looking up at the floor that the elevator stops on. 16. Someone gets on and you step behind, closer to him.

“It was fine,” You reply, a little softer, “Did you eat?”

Haechan nods.

“In your dressing room like a lonely little kid?”

“I didn’t feel like sitting with anyone. Everyone’s just going to talk about strategy and I felt like I was going to lose my mind.”

The person gets off on floor 19.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask softly. He can feel your stare on him, but it doesn’t feel harsh or expecting.

“It’s been a while since I’ve mentally dreaded a race this much.” Haechan sighs, looking at his shoes again, “It’s going to be really hard. Singapore always is, but with this championship hanging on the line, it’s going to be worse.”

You shift, leaning against the railing beside him. “Yeah,” you say, because what else is there? He already knows what tomorrow is. He doesn’t need you to tell him he’ll be fine, or that he can do it. He just needs to say it out loud.

He exhales, pressing his lips together. “I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

“If it makes any difference, I don’t think you will.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “You sound confident.”

“Someone has to be.”

That pulls a quiet laugh out of him. His fingers rake through his hair, messing it up worse than it already was. “I’m supposed to sleep properly tonight, but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

The elevator dings, doors sliding open. You step out first, Haechan falling into step beside you. When he doesn’t say anything else, you pause, looking back at him. He’s still stuck in his own head.

Before you can think too much about it, you step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down slightly.

You feel him tense for a second, like he wasn’t expecting it. Then, slowly, he exhales, his shoulders dropping as he leans into you. His hands come up hesitantly, resting against your back before wrapping around your waist. 

He sighs when you gently rub your palms up and down his back and it sends a chill down your spine. Haechan is warm and soft and smells like fabric softener. His grip tightens, just slightly, like he doesn’t want to let go yet. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and for a second, the weight he’s been carrying all weekend seems to melt away. His body molds easily against yours, the space between you completely gone, like this is exactly where he needed to be without realizing it.

“You’re good at this,” he mumbles, voice low and muffled against your shoulder.

You huff out a small laugh. “At what?”

He shifts, his chin grazing your shoulder. “Making things feel less bad.”

—

Sunday, Race Day October 5th

“Welcome to race day here in Singapore,” the commentary plays in the background. “Today, there’s more than just a race win at stake. For the first time in the track’s history, it may see a driver crowned world champion tonight. Red Bull’s Lee Haechan has a chance to clinch the 2025 World Championship at the Marina Bay Circuit.”

A slow pan across the grid shows the top ten, cars lined up in neat formation, waiting. 

“But it won’t be easy,” the commentator continues. “After taking a grid penalty for a new energy store, Haechan starts tenth, meaning he’ll need to fight his way through the field if he wants to leave here as champion.”

“There’s more,” His co-commentator picks up. “He needs to finish in the top two, and Jaehyun who is still mathematically in the fight, must finish P4 or lower. If that happens, the title is his.”

The team is gathered around his car, making final adjustments. His race engineer says something to him, but Haechan only half listens, nodding out of habit. He already knows what he needs to do.

“And let’s not forget—his teammate, Jeno, starts from P3,” the broadcast continues. “He’s not in the championship fight, but he could be a major factor today, whether that’s helping Red Bull control strategy or playing a defensive role later in the race.”

Haechan exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders back as the national anthem begins. He stands among the other drivers, hands clasped in front of him, eyes fixed straight ahead. He barely hears the music. His mind is already in the race.

There’s no point overthinking now. He’s already run through every scenario, every risk, every move he needs to make. All that’s left is to drive.

As the anthem ends, the grid stirs back to life. Mechanics move around him, engineers making last-minute checks. He reaches for his balaclava, adjusting his gloves, but just before he pulls it on, his eyes flick toward the front row.

Jaehyun’s had a bad qualifying, so Haechan thinks that at least he had a little luck on his side as he watches the former get into his Ferrari standing at P6.

Jeno’s car sits in P3, just ahead of the chaos Haechan will have to navigate.

Jeno is already getting ready, helmet on, listening to his engineer. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t have to.

Haechan knows he’ll be there when it counts.

He exhales, pulling his helmet on. The engineer beside him pats his back.

"Let’s do this."

The grid clears. Engineers step back, mechanics rush off, the final checks are done. Haechan is in the car, helmet on, visor down. You put your earplugs back in as the roar of all twenty engines amplifies, getting ready for the formation lap.

You should be thinking about the media responsibilities that will come if he wins, if he loses, if something goes wrong. That’s your job. That’s what you always do.

But right now, none of that matters.

Right now, all you can think about is him.

Everything he’s worked for. The pressure he’s carried. The way he refuses to let himself enjoy the good moments because there’s always something more to chase. The way he overthinks, the way he drives like he’s got something to prove, the way he wants this more than anything.

Your fingers tighten, nails digging into your palm.

You want this for him. So badly it makes your chest ache. 

Dahyun stands next to you, palms pressed together beneath her chin. She doesn’t talk. For all the teasing and affection she shows for her brother, she understands this moment isn’t one for words.

You glance at her briefly, catching the way her eyes stay locked on the screen, unblinking. There’s no joke poised on the tip of her tongue, no playful jab about how dramatic all of this feels. Just quiet, unspoken hope.

The two of you stand there, side by side, a little away from her parents, watching as the cars snake through the final sector. The pit wall is alive with movement, engineers murmuring into headsets, strategists making their final calculations. But none of it feels real. Not the voices murmuring in the garage, not the bustling of the mechanics as they settle down, just the car marked with the number 66, rolling into position on the grid.

Dahyun lets out a breath, barely audible. You don’t realize you’ve been holding yours until you exhale, too.

Haechan pulls into his slot. The rest of the field follows.

The engines rev louder than before. The first light flickers on.

Haechan’s grip on his wheel tightens. His hands stay still, his breathing steady.

Two.

The tension in your chest coils tighter. The grid is motionless, waiting, but the air feels electric, charged with everything that’s about to happen.

Three.

Haechan’s foot hovers over the throttle. The start will make or break his race.

Four.

Your palms feel sweaty. It feels like everything is balancing on the edge of a knife.

Five.

Make it count, Haechan thinks.

The lights hold. For a second, and then another.

Then, they go out.

Haechan gets a start so good it almost doesn’t seem real.

The second the lights go out, he’s moving—reaction time faster than most of the midfield teams, his car shooting forward while others hesitate for a split second too long. Before they even reach Turn 1, he’s already ahead of one, then another, slipping into the gaps before they close.

“He’s off to a flying start, already gaining places down the straight!”

The onboard feed flickers, his hands steady, engine roaring as he picks off another car before the braking zone. The midfield is tight, but he’s making space where there shouldn’t be any.

“He’s up to eighth already!”

The next car ahead is slower, leaving the inside open just enough. Haechan takes it without hesitation, braking later and edging forward as they go side by side through the corner. For a second, it looks like the Alpine will hold him off, but Haechan keeps his car planted, forcing him wide on exit.

“Nicely done! That’s seventh!”

The camera shifts, showing the cars funneling through the first corners, the Red Bull slicing through cleanly.

The field begins to stretch out as the front row cars start pulling away, but the midfield is still clustered together, the gaps tight. Haechan is right in the middle of it, eyes fixed ahead, mind already calculating the next move.

“He’s closing in,” commentary picks up. “He’s looking for another place.”

His Red Bull is practically glued to the car in front, catching on the straights, losing slightly in the slower corners. He needs to be patient. The driver ahead knows he’s there. One wrong move could ruin everything.

Haechan waits. The dirty air makes the car slide slightly through the high-speed turn, but he corrects it instinctively. It doesn’t shake him. He’s done this a hundred times before.

And then it happens. A small mistake, a hesitation on the throttle, a loss of momentum. Haechan doesn’t wait.

“He’s making a move! Down the inside!”

You barely realize you’ve shifted forward, hands pressed together, breath held. The car ahead squeezes him, forcing him tighter to the inside line, but he holds firm, braking just late enough to slip ahead.

“He’s through! That’s P6 for Haechan!”

The cars behind him start to grow smaller in his mirrors.

Haechan doesn’t need confirmation. He can feel it in the clean air stretching ahead. The midfield is behind him now. No more defending. No more fighting for scraps.

Now, he hunts.

His race engineer’s voice crackles through the radio. “Gap to P5, 3.8 seconds. We’re in a good window. Start pushing.”

“Pace is strong,” the engineer comes back. “You’re faster than the cars ahead.”

Good.

The numbers on his wheel flicker, confirming what he already knows. The gap is shrinking.

Another lap. Another sector. Another second gone.

The laps start blending together.

From Haechan’s perspective, the race has settled for now. No fights, no wheel-to-wheel battles, just the steady determination of closing a gap.

“Gap to P5, 1.6 seconds,” his race engineer updates. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Jaehyun is right there.

Haechan doesn’t need an engineer telling him the gap. He can see the Ferrari ahead, steady, controlled, the same way it’s been all season. The same team that spent last year pushing him to the limit, waiting for him to crack.

But not this time.

Mathematically, Jaehyun is still in it. He’s over a hundred points behind, but as long as the title isn’t clinched today, he still has a chance. He’s holding on, dragging this battle out for as long as he can.

But Haechan isn’t interested in waiting.

His grip on the wheel tightens, the tension settling deep in his chest. The car is working under him, the balance just right. He doesn’t have to overthink it. He just has to keep closing.

"Gap to Jaehyun, 1.4 seconds," his race engineer says.

In the garage, your hands are pressed together, fingers locked tight, knuckles stiff. You’re not praying, but it feels close to it.

The energy around you is suffocating. No one is talking, no one is moving. The mechanics are barely breathing, eyes fixed on the monitors. You can’t take your eyes off the screen. The energy is different now. This isn’t just about moving up the order anymore. This is the championship fight, laid out in front of you, two cars, two drivers, one of them about to take everything. He’s the last obstacle, the only thing keeping this title fight alive.

If Haechan doesn’t get past him, it all drags on. Another race. Another chance for Jaehyun to claw his way back.

Jaehyun isn’t making this easy.

Haechan knew he wouldn’t. Even with the championship slipping out of reach, Jaehyun isn’t the type to roll over. He’s still fighting, still defending, still forcing Haechan to work for every inch of track.

"Gap to Jaehyun, 0.8," his engineer calls. "You’re in DRS range."

Finally.

The Ferrari stays planted through the high-speed corners, Jaehyun’s placing the car exactly where it needs to be. No mistakes. No wasted movement. Haechan is faster, but faster isn’t enough.

He closes in on the straight, opens the rear wing, gains a few meters, but Jaehyun moves first, covering the inside, forcing Haechan to think twice.

You hold your breath as the onboard flickers on the screen. He’s close, but not close enough. Not yet.

Haechan tucks in behind him, barely lifting through the next corner, tires screaming for grip.

He waits.

Another straight. Another chance.

This time, he moves first.

A sharp flick to the outside, forcing Jaehyun to react and he does. Just a small shift, a split second of hesitation, enough for Haechan to dive back inside.

Side by side.

You can hear the mechanics shout out in encouragement, elbows on their knees as they bend forward in anticipation, the tension hanging heavy in the air.

They brake late, almost too late, tires locking, fighting for control. Jaehyun holds the line, refusing to back down, squeezing Haechan toward the curb but he doesn’t flinch.

He keeps his foot in. Holds his nerve.

For a second, they’re wheel to wheel, neither giving an inch.

Dahyun reaches out for your hand, her grip tight and lips muttering, “Please, please, please don’t touch.”

Then just before the next turn, Haechan edges ahead.

"He’s through! Haechan takes P5 ahead of the Ferrari! It’s an uphill battle now, to make it to P2 and make sure Jaehyun stays behind him.”

Dahyun jumps a little next to you, letting out a cry of relief. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding too. But it isn’t over yet. Not until Haechan sets a solid gap between him and Jaehyun.

Jaehyun is still there, still in his mirrors, still waiting for a mistake. And for a second, Haechan almost expects him to fight back immediately, to dive into the next braking zone and throw everything at it.

But he doesn’t.

The Ferrari stays close, but not aggressive. Not reckless. He guesses that this is the biggest difference between Jaehyun and his teammate.

The radio crackles. "Nice work. Let’s pull away now. Next car, 3.4 seconds ahead. How are the tyres feeling?"

Haechan exhales slowly, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

“Starting to wear, but I can hang on for a few more laps. Tell me when the Mercs and Ferrari pit.”

"Copy. We’ll keep you updated," his engineer responds.

Haechan doesn’t say anything after that, eyes locked on the road ahead. The Ferrari and Mercedes up front are still running strong, but their tires are wearing just as fast as his. The undercut is coming. He just doesn’t know when.

He settles into his rhythm, stretching the gap behind him little by little. Jaehyun is fading in his mirrors now, not close enough to be a threat but still there, lingering just out of reach. 

The radio comes back a lap later. "Ferrari in the pits."

Haechan exhales sharply, eyes flicking toward the pit lane as Seungcheol peels off early. That’s aggressive. Too early for pure tire strategy.

"He’s playing the team game," his engineer confirms. "Seungcheol could be pitting now to put pressure on Jeno. Joshua might try to hold you up."

Not because Mercedes is helping Ferrari, but because Joshua is racing for himself.

Haechan tightens his grip on the wheel. That’s a problem.

Joshua isn’t just going to let him through. And if he stays out too long, Haechan will get stuck behind him, wasting his tires while Seungcheol gains time on fresh rubber. If Red Bull reacts too late, Haechan could come out of the pits behind both of them.

No. That’s not happening.

"Stay out. We’ll extend and cover the overcut," his engineer tells him. "Let’s push now."

Fine. He can push.

Joshua is just up the road, P3 still in his grasp, but the Mercedes is holding position, taking defensive lines. He knows Haechan is coming. And he’s not going to make it easy.

Haechan exhales slowly. So this is how it’s going to be?

Ahead, Jeno still holds P2 and Doyoung leads the race. The fight up front hasn’t started yet, but the midfield is already shifting. One mistimed stop, one second lost, and everything could flip.

The radio crackles again. "Seungcheol is on hards. Jaehyun’s pit right after him. Jeno and Doyoung are still out."

And every lap spent behind Joshua is a lap lost to Seungcheol.

"Gap to Seungcheol, 19.3 seconds," the engineer calls. "They’re warming up the hards, let’s get past Joshua now."

Yeah. He knows.

The next straight is coming up. He tucks in behind, inching closer, feeling the slipstream pull him forward. DRS open. The Mercedes shifts slightly left, not a full move, just enough to discourage a late lunge.

Haechan lifts. Backs off.

Not yet.

In the garage, you feel the frustration creeping in. He’s fast enough to take the position. But every attempt costs time, and the gap behind is closing.

"Seungcheol is matching our pace," the engineer updates.

You feel a little sick.

Haechan has to go now.

He knows it, too. The moment he brakes into the next corner, his mind is already on the next opportunity. Joshua is covering the inside. Fine.

Haechan sets up wide and gets a better exit. If Joshua wants to defend, he’ll have to do it twice.

The next straight comes up fast.

This time, he doesn’t wait.

A sharp flick to the right, making it look like he’s going for the outside. Joshua shifts, just slightly, just enough—

And Haechan dives left instead.

Inside line. No time to react.

They’re side by side.

Joshua holds his ground, braking as late as he dares, keeping the nose of the Mercedes alongside but Haechan is already there, already committed, tires squealing as he forces the car through the corner.

There’s barely any space, but it’s enough.

Joshua tries to hang on, but the exit is compromised. Haechan is already ahead before the next turn.

"He’s through! Haechan into P3!"

The mechanics start falling into position, wheeling out the tyres. 

"Box, box," the engineer calls immediately. "We cover the undercut now. Let’s go."

It takes Haechan a split second to process it, his hands already moving.

"Understood."

Haechan dives into the pit lane, the speed limiter kicking in as he barrels toward his box.

The Red Bull crew is already waiting. The stop is fast. Clean. The car drops, the mechanics move  and Haechan launches back out onto the track.

"Good stop. You’re rejoining P7, ahead of Jaehyun."

He exhales, gripping the wheel tighter. That was the first hurdle. But Jaehyun is still there, still a threat. If he gets caught behind traffic now, that gap could disappear in seconds.

Back in the garage, the tension is barely contained.

The screens flicker, cameras shifting between pit exits and live timing. You don’t blink, don’t move, don’t realize how shallow your breathing has become until your chest starts to ache.

By the time the pit cycle is completed, the cars ahead disappearing into the pits to get fresher tyres on, Haechan is back to P3. 

“Jeno is pitting ahead of you, that is P2. He’s been told to stay back, so he will not chase you.” His engineer informs him.

Haechan barely acknowledges the call. He sees the Red Bull peeling off to the right, diving into the pit lane just as he flies past, officially taking P2.

But he doesn’t feel any relief.

The heat is suffocating.

His race suit clings to his skin, drenched in sweat. His gloves feel heavier, his grip on the wheel tighter than it should be. His mouth is dry, but drinking won’t help—the liquid in his drink packet is already warm because of the heat of the engine. He presses the drink button anyways, cringing once the warm water hits his tongue. 

He blinks hard, forcing himself to focus.

"Jeno is rejoining now… P3, just ahead of Joshua."

Good. That’s good. Jeno held out just long enough to help, but not long enough to ruin his own race.

But Haechan can’t think about that right now.

His breathing is heavier, his body dragging against the weight of the car. His shoulders burn from holding the wheel steady through every turn and his entire body hurts. So much. The exhaustion from all the pushing he’s done until now hits him as he finally comes up to a safe position.

“Where is Jaehyun?” he asks, voice rough, eyes flicking to the lap board.

Lap 61.

Two more. Just two more and it’s done.

The radio crackles back. “P6. He’s not a threat.”

He exhales sharply, but it doesn’t feel like relief. Not yet.

In the garage, no one talks. No one moves. The only sound is the low hum of the monitors, the voices over the team radios, the distant roar of the cars.

Your nails dig into your palms, but you don’t even feel it anymore. Lap 61. Two more to go.

You glance sideways at Dahyun. Her hands are clasped so tightly together that her knuckles are white. She hasn’t spoken since the last pit stops, her usual excitement replaced with something quieter, more anxious.

She exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but it’s breathless. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

You don’t answer. Because so do you.

Over the course of the race, Haechan’s parents have come to stand near you two. His mother holds onto his dad. You think she’s praying.

The camera flickers to Haechan’s onboard. His hands are stiff on the wheel, no wasted movement, but you can see it now—the exhaustion. The way his shoulders don’t sit as steady. The way his breathing is heavier through the radio.

The commentators pick up on it, too.

"He’s done everything right today, but you can see the toll it’s taking now. The heat, the intensity, the pressure, it’s all hitting at once."

Dahyun shifts beside you, biting her lip. "Come on, Haechan," she mutters under her breath.

Lap 62. The last one

He’s almost there.

The moment the lap board flashes past, Haechan’s breathing quickens.

One more. Just one more.

Everything hurts. His arms feel leaden, his fingers ache from gripping the wheel too tightly, his head is pounding.

But the finish line is right there, only one lap away.

“Final lap, Haechan,” his engineer says, voice measured, but he knows they feel it too.

He barely acknowledges it, eyes locked on the road ahead. Doyoung is too far ahead to catch, and Jeno is holding P3. The positions won’t change. It’s just him and the track now.

The crowd is deafening, even through his helmet. He can see the lights flashing from the grandstands, the energy building as he weaves through the final corners.

In the garage, you can’t breathe.

He hasn’t crossed the line yet, but the mechanics are already getting up from their seats to run to the pitwall. There’s not much to go wrong here.

The numbers on the screens blur together, and everything else—the people around you, the cameras, the noise—fades into the background. It’s just him on the monitor, his car flying through the final sector, the realization slowly, finally sinking in.

Dahyun has stopped fidgeting, but her hands are still clasped so tightly together that it looks painful.

He’s almost there.

The final corners. The final turns.

You remember the moment you were told that you’d be his PR rep for this season. It wasn’t meant to be anything special. Just another job, another person to manage, another year of handling media schedules and press conferences. You weren’t supposed to care.

But then the season started.

And you watched him race. You watched the way he carried himself, the way he fought for every position like it was the only thing that mattered, the way he never let himself get too comfortable, the way he refused to believe it was his until the numbers made it undeniable.

You’ve seen him exhausted, frustrated, drowning under the pressure. You’ve heard him at his most bitter, his most doubtful, when he let the weight of it all slip through the cracks.

And you’ve watched him get back in the car every single time.

Now, he’s almost done it. World Champion.

You don’t even realize your fingers are trembling until the moment his car crosses the line.

“He’s done it! Haechan finishes second with Jaehyun at P5, and with that— Lee Haechan is the 2025 World Champion!” The commentator exclaims.

The garage erupts.

Mechanics leap into each other’s arms, engineers cheering into headsets, the pit wall exploding into celebration. Somewhere behind you, someone is yelling, but all you can do is stare at the monitor, at the car with number 66 rolling past the checkered flag.

Dahyun lets out something between a laugh and a sob, hands flying to her mouth before she hugs you tightly. You swallow hard as you hug her back, unable to hold back the grin on your face. It’s an overwhelming kind of relief, not sharp, not explosive, just deep, sinking into your bones, settling in the way you hadn’t let yourself feel until now.

The crowd outside is deafening.

The cheers flood through Haechan’s radio. His engineer’s voice cracks with emotion. Someone from the pit wall is already yelling his name.

But all Haechan does is exhale.

His hands are still locked on the wheel. His arms are trembling, his body aching in ways he doesn’t have the energy to acknowledge yet.

It’s over.

And all he can think about is how long it’s taken.

Every year, every setback, every time he thought he was close only to watch it slip away. Every grueling season where it felt like no matter how hard he tried, it was never enough.

But this time, it was.

His vision blurs—not from exhaustion, not from sweat—just pure, overwhelming relief.

He breathes in. Breathes out. 

Sees the World Champion board where there should’ve been a P2 in parc fermé. 

When he parks, he finally lets go of the steering wheel, slumping into his seat. 

Jeno is the first to walk over, patting his helmet, his voice muffled but warm. Haechan barely processes it, only catching fragments—"Proud of you, man." Doyoung bends down next, saying something he can’t quite comprehend. The words don’t matter. He knows what they mean.

He nods, hands shaking as he reaches up, pulling off his gloves, his helmet, his balaclava. The rush of cooler air hitting his face is almost dizzying.

The moment he’s free of it, his eyes lift toward the barrier.

His team is there. All of them.

The mechanics, the engineers, the people who have been with him through every season, every late-night debrief, every painful loss. His mother, standing close to his father, hands pressed together as if she can barely believe it. His sister, bouncing on her heels, already reaching over the barrier.

And you.

Haechan doesn’t think. Doesn’t stop.

He moves on instinct, throwing himself out of the cockpit, barely registering his own exhaustion as his legs hit the ground.

And then, he runs.

Straight to them.

The second he reaches the barrier, the arms are already there, grabbing, pulling, holding. Someone ruffles his hair, someone yells his name, but he barely registers who is who. He just knows that this is his team, his people, and they’re all here.

Dahyun is the first to properly reach him, throwing her arms around him, squeezing tight. His mother is next, her hand cradling the side of his face for half a second before she pulls him in. His father’s grip is firm when he hugs him, yelling into his ears that he is proud, so proud.

He barely has time to think before another set of arms wrap around him, yours.

His breath catches for just a second. He can feel how tightly you’re holding on, how solid you feel against him despite how hard everything is still hitting him.

He shuts his eyes for just a moment.

It’s real. It’s over.

And he’s really won.

—

Monday, Post Race October 6th

12:05 AM

The dressing room is quiet.

For the first time in hours, there’s no noise, no cameras, no voices in his ear. Just the hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of his team still celebrating downstairs.

Haechan sits on the small bench, head tilted back against the lockers, eyes shut. His whole body aches, the exhaustion hitting now that the adrenaline has fully worn off. 

His damp hair sticks to his forehead and he can still smell the champagne on his race suit that he’s abandoned in a corner of the room. The shower did make him feel better, washing away the litres of champagne that he’d been doused in. His clothes, a normal t-shirt and sweats, feel so much lighter on him after hours of being in the sweat-soaked, heavy race suit. 

The door creaks open.

He knows it’s you before you say anything.

You step inside, letting the door click shut behind you. 

“You’re here,” he murmurs after a moment, voice rough with exhaustion.

“Your parents are waiting downstairs,” you say softly. “I told them I’d check on you first.”

His lips twitch slightly, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Checking to see if I passed out in here?”

“Something like that.”

You cross the room without hesitating, sinking down beside him. He doesn’t move, but when you lift a hand and press it gently against his back, you feel him lean into your touch, his shoulders losing the last bit of tension he’d been holding onto.

For a moment, you just sit there, your hand tracing slow, absentminded circles between his shoulder blades. The weight of the day still lingers in the air, but this moment feels different. Quieter, softer, just the two of you.

You let out a small breath, glancing at him. “You did it.”

His eyes flutter open, meeting yours.

“I did,” he says, barely above a whisper, like he hasn’t fully let himself believe it yet.

A small smile tugs at your lips as your hand moves up to the nape of his neck, raking through his hair. He hasn’t cut it since the first day you met him.

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

He watches you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

“Sunday,” He finally answers. You hum, a little confused.

“I told you we’ll talk on Sunday.”

You still. It had been the last thing on your mind during the race, so you’re a tiny bit surprised when he brings it up. You breathe in deeply before meeting his eyes and letting out a small laugh.

“Well, World Champion, I don’t know if you know, but it’s Monday now.”

Haechan shakes his head, turning his body to face you. “No, I know. But—” He cuts off, throwing his head back before he reaches out for your hands, “Hold on, I’ve kind of rehearsed this, but I’ve never done this before so give me a moment.”

You blink, a laugh escaping you as he stumbles over his words. “Rehearsed it? Haechan, what are you—”

“I just…” He takes a breath, looking at you with a sort of quiet, soft determination. “Okay, here goes.” He squeezes your hands lightly, his fingers warm against yours. “I’m not good with words, you know that. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I—I just need you to know…” He hesitates, and for a split second, his confidence falters.

You watch him, waiting. Despite knowing what’s coming, you can’t help the way your heart races. You feel breathless for a moment.

“I like you,” he says finally, his voice steady despite the nervousness in his eyes. “I like you more than I ever meant to. More than I’ve ever let myself admit.”

The simplicity of his confession knocks the breath out of you. He’s not asking for anything, not trying to pressure you, but it’s clear he’s laying everything out there, raw and open.

“I didn’t expect this. Didn’t think it would be this important, but it is. And I need you to know that,” he adds softly, his grip tightening just a little on your hands as though he’s grounding himself in the moment.

He waits for you to say something, but the words get stuck. Your mind races, and all you can do is stare at him.

Haechan’s brow furrows slightly, unsure of your silence. “You don’t have to—”

“No,” you interrupt, your voice soft but steady as you squeeze his hand. “I’m just… surprised. I mean- I’m not, because you’re not very subtle about it. I just didn’t expect you to say it today, you know, after all that’s happened. But I—” You swallow, the truth coming to your lips before you can think. “I like you too.”

You can see the relief flood his face, his shoulders relaxing as though he's been holding his breath. But then, a playful grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Well, I think I knew too,” he jokes, the tension in his voice lifting with the teasing. “I mean, it wasn’t exactly hard to tell…”

You blink, surprised by the shift in his tone. “You’re a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Just a little,” he grins back, his eyes lighting up with that familiar spark as he shifts closer to you. “You know back there, after I got out of the car, I thought you’d go all WAG mode and kiss me on my helmet or something.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your hands away from him, making him laugh, “Oh, so I’m a WAG now? You know I'm really professional. So I’d never do that. In public too? Forget it.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining ‘cause I wouldn’t mind,” Haechan shrugs, “You should do it sometimes.”

You give him an exaggerated look of disbelief, but the warmth spreading through you makes it harder to stay serious. “You really think I would?”

“I’m just saying, it’d be a really nice surprise,” he says, his voice lowering, the teasing fading into something more sincere.

You hesitate for a moment, the playfulness still hanging in the air. And then, before you even fully process it, you lean forward, your hand finding the back of his neck. Haechan’s eyes widen slightly, but before he can react, you close the gap between you, pressing your lips to his softly, with a tenderness that’s more than just a playful kiss.

You can feel the warmth of him, his body moving ever so slightly toward yours, his hand sliding to your waist, fingers gently curling around you, anchoring you to him. The world outside this little bubble of yours fades into the background. Haechan’s lips slot perfectly between yours. He still tastes like champagne. You’re not particularly fond of it, but for him, you think you could make an exception.

 His hand slides up to your cheek, fingers brushing against the soft skin there as he tilts his head just slightly, deepening the kiss. You feel his pulse against yours, a rhythm that matches the way your heart begins to race, each beat a little faster, a little louder. 

When you finally pull away, your lips still humming from the closeness, Haechan’s forehead rests against yours, his breath a little quicker than before, as though he’s still coming back to reality. You can’t help but smile softly, feeling something in you settle, like a weight being lifted.

“Was that surprising enough for you?” you murmur, your voice just above a whisper.

His smile stretches slowly, like he’s trying to still comprehend. “Definitely.”

The two of you stay silent for a moment, processing and acknowledging whatever just happened when Haechan speaks up again, “But… just for the surprise to hit harder you could do it again.”

You huff out a quiet laugh, shaking your head, but before you can even think of a reply, he tugs you just a little closer, his lips brushing against yours again—lighter this time, but just as sure.

WINTER BREAK

December 21st

You hadn’t meant to spill the news to your mother this soon. It had just sort of… happened.

You had been on the phone with her one evening, catching up like you always did when you were both too busy to visit in person. She had been asking about work, about life, about whether you were eating properly, when she had casually slipped in, “So, are you seeing anyone?”

And because you hadn’t really been thinking, half-focused on something on your laptop, you had answered honestly.

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Then a distinct shift in her tone, lighter, curious. “Oh?”

Your stomach had flipped. There had been no taking it back now.

“Yeah,” you had said again, slower this time, as if easing yourself into the reality of this conversation.

“Since when?”

You had hesitated, glancing at the calendar on your desk. “A little while now.”

“And when were you planning on telling me?”

You had exhaled through your nose, already hearing the teasing smile in her voice. “Eventually?”

She laughed. “Eventually. Right.” A pause, then, “Well? Who is he?”

You had bitten your lip, then said, “Haechan.”

Silence.

Then, after a few seconds, a sharp inhale. “As in your Haechan?”

You had winced. “Yeah.”

“As in the same Haechan I see on TV? The same one you’ve been working with this season?”

“Yeah.”

She had let out an incredulous laugh, clearly caught off guard. “And when exactly did this happen?”

You had hesitated, because when had it happened, really? There had been no defining moment, no grand realization, just a steady shift, an unshakable pull toward something you had probably always known was there.

“It wasn’t all at once,” you had admitted. “It just… made sense.”

Your mom had hummed like she was turning that over in her mind. “Well,” she had said eventually, “if it’s serious enough for you to tell me, you should bring him home for dinner.”

Your breath had hitched. “What?”

She had repeated it like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Bring him home. If you care about him, we’d like to meet him properly.”

You had swallowed. You hadn’t thought this far ahead, hadn’t considered when or how you’d introduce him to your family. Not because you hadn’t been sure about him—you had, you really had—but because the idea of sitting at that table with him, of merging two parts of your life that had always been separate, had made everything feel so real.

But… wasn’t that the point?

You had let out a slow breath. “I’ll ask him.”

Your mom had chuckled knowingly. “Good. Let me know when.”

You don’t bring it up right away.

It’s not that you’re nervous about his reaction—you know he’ll say yes. But when you finally mention it, just a casual, “My mom wants you to come over for dinner,” he still pauses for half a second longer than usual.

Then he blinks. “Dinner? Like, ‘sit at the table, be on my best behavior, answer your dad’s questions’ dinner?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Haechan leans back, tilting his head at you. “So, just to clarify, there’s no ‘pretend you don’t know me and let me sneak out the back’ option?”

“Nope.”

He exhales dramatically, rubbing his hands over his face. “Alright, then. What do I call them? Should I be formal? Or do I go straight to ‘Mom and Dad’ to establish dominance?”

You snort. “If you do that, my dad might actually kick you out.”

“Got it. Saving that for the second dinner.”

You shake your head, watching as he stretches his arms over his head before finally settling back against the cushions. For all his joking, you can tell he’s actually thinking about it. He’s always been quick to roll with things, but this feels like something he’s mentally preparing himself for.

After a beat, he glances at you again, quieter now. “You want me there?”

“Yeah,” you say, just as soft. “I do.”

He holds your gaze for a second before nodding, more certain now. “Alright.”

—

Dinner passes in a comfortable blur.

Haechan is nervous at first. You can tell by the way he sits up a little too straight, the way his fingers drum lightly against his thigh as if he’s reminding himself to stay composed. But as the meal goes on, the warmth of your home eases him in. Your mom fusses over his plate, your dad throws in the occasional dry joke, and Rina’s teasing keeps him engaged. By the time the table is cleared and your mom waves you both off with a “Go relax, I’ve got this,” Haechan follows you upstairs looking much more at ease.

Your childhood room is just as you left it. Familiar, unchanging, a space to return to whenever you visit. You can hear Rina’s Frank Sinatra album playing through the walls. You remember when Rina was still small enough to curl up beside you on lazy afternoons, insisting you play music for her. You remember the way she’d hum along, her voice soft and uncertain, trying to match the notes, how she’d giggle whenever she stumbled over the lyrics. It takes you back to being seventeen, to the quiet comfort of these walls, the long stretches of time where it felt like nothing would ever really change.

But then your eyes land on Haechan as he steps inside, and the memory settles into something different. Not quite distant, but no longer the world you live in.

Seventeen was a lifetime ago. Before flights and paddocks, before conferences and championship fights. Before Haechan.

And yet, here he is, standing in the middle of it all like he belongs. Like there’s room for him here, too.

Because there is, You think fondly.

You watch as his eyes scan the space, gaze moving from the overstuffed bookshelf to the small collection of stuffed animals still tucked into the corner of your bed. He lingers on the little trinkets lining your desk, a few old keychains, a white dreamcatcher from a school trip years ago, a cup of dried-out gel pens you never threw away. It’s a time capsule, a version of you he never got to know.

But it’s the photos on your wall that really draw him in.

He moves closer, his fingers hovering near them but never quite touching. There’s one of you at five, or six maybe, in a navy blue sweatshirt with your hands cupping your cheeks as you smile so wide your eyes disappear. 

Haechan lets out a quiet laugh, turning towards your figure, flopped on your bed. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You were actually the cutest kid alive.”

You grin. “It’s one of my favourite pictures of me too, honestly.”

He nods, but instead of moving on, he lifts his phone and takes a picture. You don’t notice, too lost in the comfort of your bed, the warmth of the moment.

Haechan doesn’t say anything either. Just tucks his phone away and keeps looking, his gaze flicking over another photo from a class trip, where you and your friends are grinning wildly, arms slung around each other. A few graduation photos, one with your parents standing proudly on either side of you, another with Rina making a face behind your shoulder.

You watch as Haechan’s gaze lingers on the framed family photo that sits on your desk, his fingers hovering over the glass like he’s memorizing every detail. There’s something unreadable in his expression, not quite wistful, not quite sad, but thoughtful in a way that makes you want to say something before he gets lost in it.

“That was taken after dinner at my grandma’s house,” you tell him, shifting so you can see it from where you’re sprawled on the bed. “We almost didn’t get a picture because Rina kept running off to play. My dad had to bribe her with extra dessert to get her to stay still.”

Haechan huffs out a quiet laugh at that, his lips quirking up slightly. “I should’ve guessed.”

You nod toward the frame. “It’s one of my favorites too.”

He tilts his head, still staring at it. “I get why.” Then, after a beat, he exhales and glances at you, hesitating for just a second before saying, “This might be a little forward, but… I kind of wish we knew each other before. Like, what if I could’ve been one of those people in your class photos, or—”

“You would have driven me insane,” you interrupt, glancing at him.

Haechan lets out a laugh, tilting his head. “Oh, really?”

You nod, leaning back against your bed. “Absolutely. You would’ve been the kid who never sat still, who found new ways to annoy me every day, who somehow convinced me to break all the rules.”

He smirks, nudging your knee with his. “Sounds like we would’ve had fun.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”

Haechan hums, studying your expression for a moment before murmuring, “Still wish I was there.”

The words settle between you, soft but heavy.

You’d never really thought about before. About how your life would have looked if he had been there earlier.

But now, as he sits beside you, fingers tracing the edge of an old photograph, you can’t help but picture it.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old. Would he have been the boy who stole your notes in class? The one who passed you secret messages during exams just to make you roll your eyes? The one who always found a way to drag you into trouble, just so he could laugh at how flustered you got?

You exhale, suddenly aware of how fast your heart is beating.

Would you have fallen for him faster?

You sit up properly now, meeting his gaze, searching for something in it that you already know is there.

“I think you would’ve fit right in,” you say quietly.

Haechan’s lips curve into a small, almost shy smile, and he nods once, like he’s tucking the thought away for later. He looks back at the photo as he sits next to you. You take his hand in yours, gently rubbing the back of his palm with your thumb.

“Maybe next time, I’ll get to be in one.”

You squeeze his hand, “You will be.”

The two of you settle into an almost comfortable silence when the music from Rina’s room catches your attention.

"There is nothing for me but to love you… and the way you look tonight."

Haechan’s head tilts slightly, a slow, knowing grin creeping onto his lips as he turns to you. “Well, that’s convenient.”

You groan, already feeling the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Oh, come on. Don’t.”

His grin widens. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

He shrugs, leaning just a little closer. “I mean… if the music insists.”

You smack his arm, but he only laughs before resting his head on your shoulder. 

—

December 23rd

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Haechan pauses, one hand still adjusting a silver bauble on the tree. He turns to you with an incredulous look. “How can I possibly be doing it wrong?”

“You’re clustering all the ornaments in one spot,” you say, pointing at the lopsided section he’s been working on. “It’s all too heavy on that side.”

He scoffs. “Excuse me for trying to create a focal point.”

“It’s not a gallery wall, it’s a Christmas tree.”

“Same concept.”

You roll your eyes and get up from his couch, stumbling a little over all the boxes on the floor. He flinches, rushing forward to catch you. You don’t fall, but you end up in his arms anyway. You reach to move one of the ornaments, but he swats your hand away. “Nope, decoration rights revoked,” he declares. 

You stare at him in disbelief, eyes falling on the hand that swatted you away before moving to the one around your waist. “Hello? You can’t do that.”

“I absolutely can. My tree, my artistic vision.”

You give him a deadpan look. “I was the one who convinced you to get a tree in the first place. Otherwise, your house would just be sad and lifeless. I chose the tree too!” rolling your eyes, you continue, “Besides, your artistic vision looks like it got tired halfway through and took a nap.”

Haechan gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve personally offended him. “Okay, that was uncalled for.”

You bite back a grin as you place a red bauble exactly where he had just moved it from, making him groan in protest.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters. “I let you into my house, I let you touch my Christmas tree, and this is how you treat me?”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get your hands off me then!”

Haechan doesn’t even hesitate. “No.” He smirks, fingers curling a little tighter around your waist. “I won’t. What are you gonna do about it?”

You open your mouth, then close it, then sigh in defeat. “Nothing,” you mutter.

“That’s what I thought.” He grins, rocking you both slightly where you stand. The Christmas lights cast a warm glow over his face, and for a moment, neither of you move. He’s looking at you, not in the teasing, smug way he usually does, but in that softer, quieter way that always makes your chest feel too full.

Then you sigh, glancing at the half-decorated tree. “We’re decorating way too late.”

Haechan groans in agreement. “I know. If we started earlier, this wouldn’t be so stressful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, whose fault is that?”

He blinks at you. “Not mine? I won both championships before December. It’s not my fault they don’t let us go until all the races are over. Blame the F1 calendar instead!”

You sigh, relenting. “Okay, fine. It’s the calendar’s fault.”

“Thank you.” He grins, rocking back on his heels. “Finally, some sense.”

You shake your head with a laugh, nudging his shoulder before turning back to the tree. “Still, if we started earlier, we wouldn’t be scrambling to finish before Christmas.”

Haechan hums in agreement, reaching for another ornament. “Guess we just have to get better at this whole off-season thing.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “We?”

Haechan nods, his gaze flickering to you for a moment before he looks back at the tree. “Yeah,” he says simply, looping an ornament onto a branch. “We. We are quite good during the season, don't you think?”

He hooks another ornament onto a branch, “Oh, by the way, there’s fruitcake on the kitchen counter.”

You pause, your hand holding an ornament in mid-air and turn to look at him. “Oh?”

He nods, adjusting a light on the tree. “Yeah.”

You frown slightly. “But… you don’t like fruitcake.”

Haechan shrugs like it’s nothing. “Yeah, but you do.”

You frown slightly, touched by the gesture, “How do you know that?”

Haechan glances at you, lips curving up. “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Oh, please. When have I ever mentioned liking fruitcake?”

He hums, stepping back to take a look at the tree, “I think it was in Budapest. Jeno was talking about how he got sick from eating fruitcake off season.”

You laugh, pleasantly surprised that he remembered that.

“As much as I love fruitcake, it’s definitely not the best thing to have in any month other than December,” You admit, “Also, you really have to get the right ones. Some are loaded with too many spices, some are too greasy… I’d never complain about having too many nuts or fruit but I guess people wouldn’t like that either.”

His laughter is light as he lets his forehead rest against yours, his hands slipping to your waist. The tree lights flicker in the corner of your vision, a warm golden colour. They remind you of Haechan. 

“This is kind of the last thing I expected getting into this year,” he murmurs after a beat.

You blink, the playfulness between you both settling into something more serious and heartfelt. “What? Decorating a tree with me?”

His fingers drum lightly against your hip. “More like all of this. Us.”

You exhale, nudging your nose against his. “Yeah,” you admit. “Me too.”

Haechan hums, thoughtful. “I mean, if you told me at the start of the season that I’d win both championships and have you here at the end of it, I would’ve laughed in your face.”

You tilt your head. “Oh? What part was more unbelievable?”

“The championships, obviously.” He grins, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “You? I think at one point it just became obvious that you were inevitable.”

Your stomach flips, but before you can even think of a response, he reaches past you, placing the star in your hands.

“Go on, then.”

You eye him suspiciously. “No catch?”

He shakes his head. “Never.”

You glance at him again, making sure before standing on your tiptoes to place the star at the top. As you adjust it, Haechan’s hands settle at your waist again, steadying you without a word.

Once you step back, the tree finally completed, he lets out a satisfied hum. “Not bad.”

You turn around to look at him.

He looks back at you, tilting his head, a smile playing on his lips before he leans down

The first time you met Haechan, he barely spared you more than a glance, too caught up in the frustration of strategies and a season that hadn’t even begun. 

Now, Haechan kisses you like it’s second nature, like he’s done it a hundred times before and will do it a hundred times more.

His lips move against yours with a quiet sort of certainty, like he’s memorized exactly how to kiss you. Not rushed, not hesitant, just sure. His hands slide up, fingertips pressing into your back to bring you closer, and when you splay your fingers across the fabric of his sweater, you feel the way his heartbeat kicks up under your touch.

He exhales softly against your lips before kissing you again, deeper this time, slower. The world narrows down to the quiet press of his mouth, the steady warmth of his touch, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingering between you. You can feel it in the way he holds you that this isn't something that will slip away.

And then, just for a second, it’s like standing on the grid, the air electric, the whole world holding its breath.

Just before the countdown. Before lights out.

tagging: @yukisroom97 @awktwurtle

[asapstarkey]

It's Complicated — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Two: It’s just how it always ends

Chapter One

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader

Summary: You try to stay away and set boundaries with Rafe. For worse or for better.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, vomiting, possible grammatical errors

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Another semi-short chapter. They will get longer as this fic progresses. Once again, this is a slow burn. I’m building things up and trying to set the scene. Feedback is always appreciated!

It had been almost three weeks since that night on the beach. Almost three weeks since you had seen Rafe at all. His two-in-the-morning phone calls and text messages went unanswered by you.

The Pogues didn’t get much out of you about what happened. They just knew Rafe had opened his big fat mouth like he always did and you had enough. You couldn’t tell them too much without giving away your dirty little secret. How you had been able to keep sleeping with him a secret for over four years was a miracle.

You had pretty much been in hiding. You hadn’t left the Cut at all, gone to a single party, or gone downtown at all. You couldn’t keep it up much longer either. You couldn’t stay away forever.

The bell above the door chimed as you walked into The Wreck. It was still early in the day so there weren’t many people in the restaurant. Kiara had asked you to come help her and Dad that day. A couple of employees called out and the business still needed to run. Thankfully, you had worked there your Senior year of High School and a couple years after to keep the lights on and food on the table for you and John B.

“(Y/N)! So good to see you,” Mike greeted you with a bright smile and a tight hug. “How are you? How’s business going?”

“Just taking things day by day,” you answered truthfully. “This Summer seems busier than in the past.”

“You’re telling me,” Mike sighed and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I really appreciate you helping out today.”

“Anytime! You know I loved working here back in the day.”

It was true. When your dad was missing, being at The Wreck was your only escape. Balancing school and trying to parent your menace of a kid brother took up all of your time. You couldn’t imagine it any other way though. Had John B not met Kie, and she not helped you get the job, you didn’t know where you would be now. The only reason you quit was to keep John B alive when he and the Pogues went after the Merchant Gold.

Mike handed you an apron and you got to work like you had never left. Time moved quickly as you moved about the kitchen making food. Music played softly from a speaker Kiara had brought. You sang along quietly, dancing around Mike as the two of you worked together.

You felt at peace. For once you weren’t at the Surf Shop, balancing numbers and figuring out how much more you needed to make that month to make sure everything was paid. You weren’t worried about JJ coming home with some elaborate scheme that would surely get all of you arrested. You weren’t worried about making sure Cleo wasn’t getting into trouble with people, Pope’s college papers, or whether or not your brother and Sarah were using protection. For once you had no worries.

And Mike had already said he was going to pay you generously for helping him out. If that was on paper or not, he told you not to concern yourself with that, so you didn’t.

Your phone chimed from the counter behind you. It had gone off a couple of times but you figured it was just your brother updating you on how business was going. Deciding you should check it, you walked across the kitchen and picked it up. You scoffed when you saw you had new messages from someone who was /certainly not/ John B.

Rafe: U up? 2:21 am

Rafe: Um hello? Are u alive? 10:47 am

Rafe: Ur starting to worry me here.. Like fr 3:09 pm

You shook your head and locked the phone back. It’s been three weeks, dude, take a hint.

“(Y/N) can you go help Kiara bus some tables real quick? The rush is over and I’ve got lots of dishes to bring back,” Mike poked his head in to ask you, work phone pressed to his shoulder where someone was surely on hold.

“On it!”

You put your phone back down on the counter and grabbed a buss tub before heading out into the dining room to clean up. You had barely finished bussing your third table when the bell above the door signaled someone walking in. You turned around to greet them, not expecting it to be the last person you wanted to see.

His eyes found you within seconds and there was no escaping. You couldn’t just hide in the kitchen and you couldn’t escape out the side door with no explanation. You had to face him.

Rafe looked almost relieved to see you. His features softened and his shoulders lost tension. He walked straight over to the table you were wiping down and stopped on the opposite side.

“Did your phone break or something?” he asks.

Some greeting that was.

“No.”

“Well, I know my number’s not blocked cause all of my texts and calls have gone through.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you replied with a shrug, trying to play it off like this didn’t bother you. But the hurtful things he said to you on the beach replayed in your head daily. Your subconscious always reminds you of how he truly felt about you. You went back to cleaning the table, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone.

He laughed as he questioned, “You’re not seriously still mad, are you?”

What a silly question for him to ask after you quite literally exploded on the beach.

“Yes, Rafe, I am,” you snipped. “And I’m working so you need to leave.”

You grabbed the tub and moved to a different table, moving with haste as you cleared the dishes. Your back was to the blonde Kook but you felt him move closer as he followed you around the dining room. You glanced around, hoping to see Kiara or someone who could save you from this situation.

“C’mon, baby,” Rafe’s voice dropped as he took on a more pleading tone. “Y’know I didn’t mean it.”

Your chest tightened and your face heated up. The same rage you felt on the beach slowly reigniting in your chest. This was just a tactic to get you back into his bed like he had done time and time again.

“No,” you whipped around to face him, the smirk on his lips slowly fading. You pointed your finger and every word off your tongue was laced with venom. “You always do this. You use me to get your fix, then treat me like shit and throw me away when you’re done. I don’t know if it’s some sick kink of yours to belittle me every chance you get, but I’ve had enough.”

Rafe scoffed and shook his head, “That’s not true, (Y/N).. I-“

“Shut up!” You held your hand up, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply. There are still tables in here, keep your cool. When you looked at him again he looked hurt. A small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Just shut up, Rafe. I don’t care what you have to say anymore. I’m done. Do you hear me? I’m fucking done.”

You meant it. Every word you said to him you meant. You were sick and tired of him treating you like all you were meant for was a quick fuck. You were fed up being spoken down to like you were less than because of how you grew up. You were absolutely done being Rafe Cameron’s secret little play thing, and judging by the look on his face, he knew it.

Rafe didn’t say anything else. He stared at you for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and then he left.

You were visibly shaking at that point, breaths coming out in short puffs as you tried to calm yourself down. You felt lighter after finally speaking your mind and letting it all out. Though, your eyes stung with unshed tears as the door to The Wreck shut behind him. You just let go of someone you wasted years of your life with after all.

What was supposed to only be a few hours of you helping turned into a twelve hour work day. After your run in with Rafe it seemed like all of Kildare Island and some decided The Wreck was the spot that day. You stuck around helping Mike cook, Kiara take tables, and you even helped the bartender make drinks when they got swamped.

By the time Mike was ready to let you and Kiara go it was just after nine o’clock and the sun was lowering beyond the horizon, casting an orange glow over the parking lot as you climbed into the passenger seat of your curly headed friend’s car. You couldn’t wait to just get home, take a hot shower and absolutely crash.

A few more weeks had passed since Rafe sought you out at The Wreck. You’d barely seen more than a glimpse of him. He’d pass the shop on his boat but never stop for gas or come inside. He’d be at the beach with his friends when you were surfing, always keeping his distance and leaving shortly after.

You had even ended up at the same house party somehow. Some Touron’s parents left him at the AirBnB alone and he threw an absolute rager. The two of you would steal glimpses of each other from across the room without the other knowing. Though you were never in the same part of the house at the same time for more than a minute or so.

It was a relief, truthfully. You weren’t anxious the whole time that he’d walk over and whisk you away to the bathroom for a quickie and someone would see you. You weren’t scared your brother would smell his cologne in your hair from your face being tucked into his neck. You weren’t afraid Sophia would see the scratch marks on his shoulder blades and know they weren’t her doing.

But, God, did you miss him sometimes.

You missed the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek when he was too tired and spent to kick you out of his house and he’d fall asleep holding you close. You missed him playing with your hair as he talked to you, trying to convince you to sneak away from your friends for five minutes so he could take care of you for once. You missed the weight of his lips against yours when all you could do was steal sloppy kisses in the dark and there was no time for funny business. You missed the way he looked at you, even if it was purely lustful and nothing more, his blue irises saying more than words ever could.

But Rafe had made it very clear he would never be with you. And despite those little moments where you thought otherwise, you could never be with someone who made you feel so shitty all of the time. You had to hate Rafe in order to protect yourself.

“Something’s bothering you,” you were snapped out of your thoughts by your brother’s voice.

John B had been watching you from behind the wheel of the boat. You sat at the front, staring out at the water as you mindlessly picked at the skin around your nails.

He got up from his seat and walked over to you, holding out an ice cold bottled beer fresh from the cooler. “What’s on your mind, sissy?”

The snort you let out brought a smile to John B’s lips. He stopped using that nickname years ago, unless he wanted something from you or he got himself into trouble. He was genuinely worried about you though. You hadn’t been acting like yourself for months and everyone was starting to notice.

“Just.. stressed,” you sighed and shook your head, avoiding his prodding hazel eyes.

“Business is good, (Y/N). We’re finally getting our feet under us,” John B tried to reassure you. Little did he know this wasn’t about the shop at all. “We’re finally getting everything we deserve.”

You twisted off the cap of your beer and tossed it in the grocery sack being used as a trash bag hung off of a rope hook. “I know, I know. That doesn’t mean I’m just gonna stop caring. Someone around here has to run payroll and budget,” you continued. “No offense, but none of you are remotely close to qualified. Except maybe Sarah.”

John B laughed but didn’t disagree as you took a swig from your bottle. He wandered over to the edge of the boat to talk to JJ and you watched the other four Pogues as they hung off foam noodles and talked not too far.

As you brought your beer back up to your lips, you paused. Your stomach twisted as the bitter smell met your nose. Suddenly, you were scrambling to turn around and wretched into the water in the knick of time. The sound of the amber bottle hitting the deck of the boat was what caught the attention of your brother and friends.

JJ must have skipped the ladder and hoisted himself onto the boat from the side because he was pulling your hair back in a matter of seconds. He rubbed your back and encouraged you to ‘just let it out’. You could hear John B calling the others back to the boat, your stomach too busy emptying its entire contents for you to protest.

Once everyone was back on board and you weren’t vomiting anymore, John B crouched beside you, “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I don’t know.. One second I was fine and then I just felt sick.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and sat back against the seat with a heavy breath. Your brother stared at you worriedly and rubbed your knee. “Let’s take you back. I don’t want you out here in the sun in case it gets worse,” he suggested.

“No,” you groaned. “Don’t let me ruin the fun. I’ll be fine, JB.”

JJ had already started cruising towards the Chateau though, so you knew it was pointless to argue.

“We planned on heading down to catch some waves anyway. I want you to rest. Kay?” John B insisted.

He reminded you of your father in that moment. Caring and protective. You tried to be the strong older sister who looked after everyone but he was always looking out for you too. So you nodded and let him wrap a towel around your shoulders for the short boat ride back home.

After reassuring your brother that you’d be fine alone, you headed into the Chateau while they loaded into the Twinkie and headed off to surf. You dropped your belongings on your bedroom floor before falling face first into your bed. Exhaustion caught up with you and in a matter of minutes, you were fast asleep.

A/N: Add yourself to my tag list for this series if you haven't already! As always, feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @badasspizzalover @enthusiastms @ficlibraryfavs @klauslovemepls @maybankslover @nouis-bum @ohemgeewhat @owl0y0s @run-for-the-hills @simpforromance @spideysimpossiblegirl @thebumbqueen @adribarbie @babygirlwilly @bellstwd @drewstarkslut @eringaitskill @fallout-girl219 @hadidsworld @hoeforthefictional @honk4emoboyz @iknowdatsrightbih @itsmattiesworld @iwannaleavethis @jayjayshere @magicalyoura @midnight4034 @probablyreadingsmutlol @rafes1luvr @ravenroyale @reidshearts @riah1606 @sweetestrose569 @whore-for-pennywise @writingwithmai @xolos-wife @aespa-savage @aesthetic-lyss @aiddaab @aloe-7 @angvl3tears @balletalbum @bejeweledsthings @bilssturns @brittancqs @cigaretteshoney @constantsadness @coquettebiatch @dancingqueen21 @daniellequinna @diduzzola @dilfluvr4evr @dream-alive789 @dreamygirli3 @dstrkeywife @enemiestoloverhoe @escapismlourve @exhaustedbutelated @f4ll-for-you @fastlovela

If you did not get tagged either I couldn't find your blog or your URL changed! Please send me a message or resubmit a google form.

[berryqueercc]

Yeaaaa this one is even longer than the blushes one. But I like facepaints for the use of my aliens I make so of course it's going to have the most.

Anyway this is a bunch of facepaints I like, things I recategorized as facepaints, and things I created, in my colors.

These work for all ages, frames, genders and occults.

Otherworld Swatch

Duotone Swatch

Galaxy Swatch

Gradient Swatch

Download and Originals below the cut!

[Google Drive P1] [Google Drive P2]

In the order above:

#1-3 - My favorite DAI Vallaslins converted #4-15 - A couple of my Andromeda Facepaints. #16 - Thunder Facepaint by Brainstrip #17 & 18 - Dots Facepaint by DecayClown #19-21 - Spots Facepaint by DecayClown #22 & 23 - Bat Lady Blush by EvilQuinzel #24 - Data Eyeliner by EvilQuinzel #25 & 26 - Cupid Eyeliner by EvilQuinzel #27 - Mermaid Blush by EvilQuinzel #28-30 - Cyberskull Blush by EvilQuinzel #31-33 - CyFi Neuromancer Blush by EvilQuinzel #34 - Snow Eyeliner by EvilQuinzel #35 - Stargaze Eyeliner by EvilQuinzel #36 - A facepaint part of a set I started and never finished. #37 & 38 - Circuit Spots by iyaS #39 - Starpop Blush A by J3LLYFISH #40-42 - Starpop Blush B by J3LLYFISH #43 - Starpop Blush C by J3LLYFISH #44 & 45 - Eyeshadow N10 by Jul-Haos #46 - Fallen Marks by KikuruAcchi #47 - Runes by KikuruAcchi #48 - Runes Of The Forest by KikuruAcchi #49 - Constellation And Stars by LaraBliss #50 - Saiiia Face Tattoo by Lisaminicatsims #51 - Myshuno Glitter by Networksims #52 & 53 - Alien Dot Markings by pastelsims #54 - Alien Facepaint V6 by Reevaly #55-63 - Petchy Alien Spots TS2 Conversion #64-69 - Petchy's Alien Spots by Glowing a-la FutileFairytale #70-72 - Alien Facepaint V4 by Reevaly #73-75 - Alien Facepaint V5 by Reevaly #76 - Alien Facepaint V7 by Reevaly #77 - Alien Facepaint V8 by Reevaly #78 - Anjos V2 by Reevaly #79-80 - Belle Blush by Reevaly #81 - Butterfly Blush V3 by Reevaly #82 - Dots V1 by Reevaly #83-84 - Dot Blush V1 by Reevaly #85 - Biium Blush by Reevaly #86 - Dot V7 by Reevaly #87 - Dot V8 by Reevaly #88 - Dot Facepaint V9 by Reevaly #89 - Fae Paint V1 by Reevaly #90 - Fae Paint V7 by Reevaly #91-93 - Facemask Halloween by Reevaly #94 & 95 - Gudrun by Reevaly #96 - Halloween Mask V1 by Reevaly #97 - Halloween Mask V3 by Reevaly #98 - Neon Blush V1 by Reevaly #99 - Neon Blush V2 by Reevaly #100 - Neon Blush V3 by Reevaly #101 - Neon Blush V5 by Reevaly #102 - Neon Blush V6 by Reevaly #103 - Spring Tulia by Reevaly #104 - Xintus by Reevaly #105 - Error 404 not found. #106 - Face Glitter by SmallFoxie #107 - Demon Blush by Taty #108 - Fantasy Tattoo 01 by Taty #109-111 - Fantasy Tattoo 02 by Taty #112-114 - Fantasy Blush 01 by Taty #115-117 - Fantasy Blush 02 by Taty #118-120 - Fantasy Freckle by Taty #121 - Fantasy Blush 05 by Taty #122 - Fantasy Blush 09 by Taty #123 - Mermaid Blush by Taty #124 - Tribal Blush by Taty #125 - Tribal Blush 02 by Taty #126 - Tribal Face 04 by Taty #127 - Tribal Face 05 by Taty #128 - Tribal Face 06 by Taty #129 - Tribal Face 07 by Taty #130 - Tribal Face 02 by Taty #131 - Tribal Blush 03 by Taty #132 - Lots A Dot by KatDashes TS2 Conversion #133-135 - Thessia Spots by Kiinu TS2 Conversion #136 - Constellation Freckles by PascalCurious TS2 Conversion #137 & 138 - Stargaze by Tealeaf TS2 Conversion #139 & 140 - Fawn Tattoo V2 by UnidentifiedSims #141 - CyFi Cosmic Crush Eyeshadow by Willeekmer #142 & 143 - Pride 24 by Willeekmer #144 - Honeybee Eyeshadow by Willeekmer #145-147 - Simply Spots by Xyliax #148-149 - Trapping's Beneghalis TS2 Conversion by Weepingsimmer

[lost-in-thoughts03]

Falling for you // Hwang brothers

Previous part || Next part

Summary: In-ho finally moved his glass. Now is the moment to demonstrate his sincerity with you. Despite your attempts to push him away, he never stops.

He is like a magnet; once he is attracted, he will not let you go.

" You are not hard to love. You are the dream to love."

Warning: Fluff, soft! In-ho, cheezy pick-up lines, sincerity, efforts, sick! In-ho, confusion, hesitation, slightly possessive, courting, slow burn, denial, grammatical errors

The kitchen was silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator. You cradled the warm glass of milk in your hands, the heat seeping into your skin as you sat curled up on the couch.

The glow from your phone illuminated your face in the dark living room, casting soft shadows against the walls.

Your thumb swiped absentmindedly, scrolling through old photos.

High school days.

A time when things were simpler—when your heart wasn’t tangled between two brothers, when love was something distant, not something that could hurt you.

Then, your finger stopped.

A photo of you and Jun-ho.

It was an old picture—your high school uniforms slightly wrinkled, the both of you grinning like idiots.

Jun-ho had his arm lazily slung over your shoulder, and you were making a silly face, laughing at something that had long faded from your memory.

Your chest ached.

You traced the edges of the screen, exhaling slowly.

If you could go back…would you change things?

Would you have distanced yourself the moment you realize your feelings for Jun-ho?

Would you have avoided every lingering glance, every skipped heartbeat, every moment where you thought—maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way too?

Or would you have fought harder?

Fought to make him see you not just as his best friend, but as someone who could love him unconditionally?

A bitter smile touched your lips.

No.

You would’ve done neither.

Because the past wasn’t something you could rewrite.

No matter how much you wished to undo the heartache, to take back every stolen moment, every silent longing—life didn’t work that way.

You sighed, closing your eyes briefly before taking a sip of your milk.

The warmth barely soothed the hollow feeling in your chest.

And In-ho…

You weren’t blind. Looking back now, the signs had been there.

The way his eyes lingered a second too long.

The way he was always just there, watching, waiting.

Unlike Jun-ho, he never made grand promises.

He always give you mixed signals.

No, In-ho had been steady. Quiet. But constant.

And now, he wasn’t just quiet anymore—he was loud, persistent, unapologetic.

You groaned softly, running a hand through your hair. “ I need to stop thinking about this.” You muttered to yourself.

But how could you, when both the past and the present refused to let you go?

You stared blankly at the living room wall, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.

Your heart felt heavy—tangled in memories, uncertainty, and the weight of feelings you had no idea how to handle.

So, for the first time in a long while, you whispered a silent plea.

" God, just…give me a sign. Something. Anything. Because I don't know what to do anymore."

The moment the words left your mind, your phone buzzed.

You blinked, your body stiffening slightly as your heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, you looked down at your phone, the dim screen illuminating your lap.

And there it was.

In-ho.

His name stared back at you from the notification bar, almost as if the universe was laughing at your desperate request.

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around the phone.

Seriously?

Out of all people, out of all the times…why him?

For a moment, you just stared.

You could ignore it. Pretend you never saw it, act like you had already fallen asleep, and deal with whatever nonsense In-ho had to say in the morning.

But your traitorous thumb hovered over the screen before you could even think twice.

In-ho [1:47 AM]: Are you awake?

You chewed on your lip, debating whether to respond. But before you could make a decision, another message popped up.

In-ho [1:48 AM]: Actually, I know you are. You're probably overthinking again.

Your breath hitched slightly. How did he—

In-ho [1:49 AM]: I can already picture you sighing, holding that stupid glass of milk like it holds all the answers to your problems.

You frowned, glancing down at the warm cup still in your hands.

...How the hell does he know that?

Your fingers hesitated, but then, without thinking too much, you typed back.

You [1:50 AM]: Are you spying on me or something?

It didn’t take long before he responded.

In-ho [1:50 AM]: No. I just know you.

A lump formed in your throat.

Because he was right.

He did know you.

Probably more than you wanted to admit.

You stared at the screen, your heart pounding in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Maybe this wasn’t just a message.

Maybe this was the sign you had asked for.

The real question was—were you ready to listen?

…

You groaned quietly, pressing your fingers against your temples as you glared at the glowing screen.

" Are you serious right now?" You muttered under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

Of all the people in the world, of all the times the universe could have intervened…why him?

You had been expecting—hoping—to see Jun-ho’s name pop up.

Even after everything, some foolish part of you still wanted him to reach out.

To say something.

Anything.

But instead, the universe, in all its twisted humor, gave you In-ho.

Irritated, you chugged your milk aggressively, as if somehow that would drown out the frustration clawing at your chest.

The lukewarm liquid slid down your throat, but it did nothing to soothe the chaos in your mind.

With careful precision, you placed the empty glass on the coffee table, making sure not to make a sound.

The last thing you needed was to wake your family up and have them ask why you were sulking in the living room at nearly two in the morning.

You let out a long, weary sigh.

This wasn’t something you could handle alone.

You needed someone who wasn’t emotionally tangled in this mess, someone who could slap some sense into you and tell you what the hell you were supposed to do.

Your fingers worked quickly, unlocking your phone and pulling up your messages.

There was only one person who could give you the advice you needed.

You [1:52 AM]: Are you awake?

It only took a few seconds before you saw the typing bubbles appear.

Bubble pop wrap [1:52 AM]: Why do you even ask? You know I don’t sleep like a normal person.

A small smile ghosted your lips.

You [1:53 AM]: Are you free? I need help. Serious help.

Bubble pop wrap [1:53 AM]: Lemme guess. The love triangle from hell?

You sighed.

You [1:54 AM]: Damn it.

Bubble pop wrap [1:54 AM]: Fine, fine. But you better buy me coffee. And maybe a cupcake. I’m gonna need sugar to deal with your drama.

You chuckled despite yourself, feeling a small wave of relief. At least you weren’t dealing with this mess alone.

Now, the real question was—would talking about it make your decision easier, or would it only make things worse?

...

The morning sun barely kissed the horizon when you opened her door, only to be greeted by the sight of another bouquet of fresh flowers resting against the threshold.

Roses today.

Yesterday, it had been lilies, and the day before that, tulips.

Each one carefully chosen, each accompanied by a handwritten note in In-ho's elegant script.

" A flower for every moment I think of you. At this rate, I’ll be sending you entire gardens."

You sighed, shaking your head as you picked up the bouquet, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

It had been weeks of this now—flowers, letters, visits.

In-ho was relentless.

And it didn’t stop there.

At exactly noon, her doorbell rang, and when she opened it, there he was, standing with a knowing smirk, a steaming container of food in his hands.

" Make your favorite today." He announced proudly, stepping inside before she could protest.

" You need to eat properly. I can’t have the woman I love ignoring her meals."

" In-ho—" You started, but he was already setting the table like he belonged there.

Your parents, seated nearby, exchanged a glance, utterly bewildered by his constant presence.

" You again?" Your father finally asked, narrowing his eyes.

In-ho merely smiled. " Yes, sir. And you’ll be seeing more of me. A man should be persistent when it comes to love, don’t you think?"

Your mother, hiding a laugh behind her teacup, whispered. " He reminds me of someone."

You groaned, but your cheeks burned at his confidence.

Later that evening, as you sat on the couch, you unfolded another letter.

" I know you might think I’m foolish, but I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. You’re worth the fight, Y/n. And I’ll keep proving it to you every single day. So don’t bother trying to resist—I’ll win your heart, one way or another."

P.S. Be ready for another pick-up line tomorrow.

And true to his word, the next day, he leaned against her door frame, grinning.

" Are you French? Because Eiffel for you."

You groaned, covering your face.

" Admit it, you love it." He teased you.

" You’re impossible." You muttered, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable.

In-ho wasn’t just pursuing her. He was making it impossible for her not to fall in love.

Days turned into weeks, and still, In-ho never faltered. Every morning, fresh flowers greeted you at your doorstep.

Every afternoon, he arrived with your favorite meals, smiling like he belonged there.

Every evening, another letter slipped beneath your door, each one filled with heartfelt words that made your heart race despite your best efforts to resist.

Her parents had long stopped questioning his visits. Her father still gave him skeptical glances, but your mother?

Oh, you was clearly amused.

" It’s like a drama." She whispered to you one evening. " A very persistent male lead."

You sighed, pretending not to care, but deep down, she knew your mother was right.

Tonight was no different. The moment she opened her front door, In-ho was there, casually leaning against the frame, a grin playing on his lips.

" Did you trip?" He asked.

You frowned. " No?"

" Weird. Because I keep falling for you."

You groaned, but the smile you tried to hide betrayed you. " In-ho—"

" What? It’s true." He said, stepping closer.

His voice softened. " Y/n, I meant what I said in my letters. I won’t give up on you. I don’t care how long it takes—I’ll prove to you that no one will love you the way I do. So, tell me…" He tilted his head, watching you carefully.

" Am I winning yet?"

Your heart pounded. He was relentless, persistent, and sincere. And, God help you, he was making it harder and harder to ignore the way you felt.

Maybe he was winning after all.

It was becoming routine now—the flowers, the food, the letters.

The cheesy pickup lines that made you roll your eyes but secretly look forward to the next one.

But today was different.

It had been raining since morning, the kind of downpour that turned the streets into rivers. You assumed In-ho would take a break from his relentless pursuit, but she should have known better.

When the doorbell rang, she hesitated before opening it, only to find him standing there, completely drenched. He held up a small, soggy bouquet, his usual smirk replaced by something softer.

" Still not giving up?" You asked, crossing your arms.

" Never.” He said without hesitation.

You sighed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside. " You’re insane. You could’ve just stayed home."

" And miss seeing you?" He teased, dripping water all over the floor.

" Not a chance."

You shook her head, disappearing into your room and returning with a towel. " Here. Dry off before my parents think I let you catch pneumonia."

He accepted it with a grateful smile but didn’t miss the concern in her voice.

" You’re worried about me." He pointed out.

" I’d worry about any idiot who stands in the rain for hours.” You countered.

" So, I’m special, then?"

You shot him a look, but he just laughed, running the towel through his damp hair.

Then, as if remembering something, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another letter. The paper was slightly wet, the ink smudged at the edges.

" It got a little ruined, but the words are still clear." He said, handing it to her.

You hesitated before taking it. You slowly unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting.

" I know I’m persistent. Annoying, even. But I won’t stop because you’re worth every effort. You can keep pushing me away, pretending you don’t feel anything—but I see the way your eyes soften when I show up. I see the way you almost smile at my terrible jokes. And I know, deep down, you’re scared. But, Y/n, I’m not. I’m all in. And I’ll wait for the day you are too."

Her hands trembled slightly as she lowered the letter. When she looked up, In-ho was watching her closely, his expression unreadable.

" You don’t give up, do you?" You asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head. " Not when it comes to you."

And for the first time, you didn’t try to fight the warmth spreading through your chest.

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of In-ho's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against hers. You sat next to him on the bed, your hand gently resting on his.

His fever had broken hours ago, but the way he clung to her, even in sleep, made you feel like he was holding on to something far more than just his recovery.

You sighed, watching his peaceful face as he murmured in his sleep, the words barely audible but enough to make her heart tighten in your chest.

" Y/n...please...I’ll never give up on you...I’ll wait...until you’re mine."

Your heart skipped a beat. He was always saying things like that, always declaring his love for you, but now it felt different.

It was no longer just words. It was a promise, a declaration that he would fight for her until the end.

You gently nudged his shoulder, trying to wake him from his sleep.

" In-ho." You whispered, your voice barely a breath.

" In-ho, wake up."

His eyes fluttered open slowly, meeting yours with a dazed but unmistakable warmth.

The moment his gaze locked on you, a soft, contented smile spread across his face.

" Y/n..." He murmured, his voice husky from sleep, his eyes bright with something unmistakable. He reached for her, his hand weak but determined, pulling you closer.

Without thinking, he buried his head into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against her skin.

A soft, almost desperate sigh escaped his lips as he snuggled against her.

" In-ho..." You gasped, feeling the heat of his body and the way his arms locked around you, keeping you in his embrace.

The familiar weight of his arms around you made your pulse race, but it also made your heart ache.

" I can't let you go." He murmured into your skin, his voice muffled but full of emotion.

" I won’t let anyone else take you from me. I’ll never give up on you, sweetheart. You're mine...you just don't know it yet."

His words were so full of certainty, of resolve. You felt your chest tighten.

The way he held you so close, the way he made you feel like there was nowhere else he wanted to be, made everything inside you spin out of control.

You didn’t know how to respond. You didn’t know how to fight this feeling that was growing inside you, the feeling of being cared for, cherished, in a way you have never allowed yourself to feel.

" You’re...not going to stop, are you?" You whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand caressing your cheek as his thumb gently traced your skin.

" Never."

His voice was full of conviction, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt toward him, the way he made you want to give in, to let him hold your heart as tightly as he held you in his arms.

" I want you to be with me, Y/n." He added softly.

" Not just for now, but for always. I’ll fight for you, no matter how long it takes."

You swallowed hard, the intensity in his gaze leaving you breathless.

Every word, every action, told you that he wasn’t playing games.

This was real.

He was all in.

And for the first time in your life, maybe—just maybe—you wanted to be too.

N/A: Y/n and Jun-ho met when they were 16. In-ho, on the other hand, began to like her when she reached her legal age—around the time Y/n was in her twenties. (I need to clarify this to avoid misunderstandings between the characters)

Y/n and Jun-ho's age right now: 23 (College students)

In-ho's age right now: 30 (I need to lower down his age to make it more accurate)

Tags: @nina357 @maah-sama @colorwastaken @frontwomann @coolasiangal123

[chad-danaki]

Senators unveil bill to claw back power over tariffs amid Trump trade wars:

[eddiediaaz]

Hi! Can I ask how you did the double exposure gifs for your merlin set? They're beautiful btw!

heyy, thank you!! of course!

it's actually not very hard, the trick is to find the right shots for this. here's how i did it (reference gifset), under the cut.

for this tutorial i will be: — using photoshop cs5 on windows — assuming you know how to make gifs using the timeline — have basic coloring, sharpening, groups, and layer masks knowledge

I. CHOOSING THE RIGHT SHOTS

the ultimate trick to pull this off is to choose the right image. in order to do the double exposure, you need a silhouette shot that has these:

a defined and dark silhouette with a background that is not too busy

enough contrast between the silhouette and the background

the silhouette should take at least 50% of the space

not too much movement

here are a few examples of why they work and why they won't:

gwen: perfect example since this shot is already quite contrasted with a defined silhouette. there won't be a lot of work needed to make this one work.

merlin: not a great example because even tho there's a somewhat good contrast between him and the background, the silhouette is just too bright, not dark enough.

arthur: another good example, even if there are some bright spots on his face and armor. since he's not moving too much, you can definitely brush some black over him to make his silhouette darker (i'll explain/show later)

morgana: this one could work because the contrast is great, but of course her skintone is very bright against the black clothing. that being said, since the movement is not too bad, it could be possible to brush some black over her and move these layers with keyframes (as mentioned for arthur's example). i haven't tried it tho, but i think it would work well enough.

once you have your silhouette shot, you need another gif for the double exposure. what works best, in my opinion, are:

wide, large shots

shots with no to little camera movement (no pan, zoom, etc), but the subjects in the shot can have little movement of course

pretty cinematography/scenery shots

i find these are easier to find and make it work, it's not as "precise" as with silhouette shots. it's mostly just trial and error to see what works best with the silhouettes.

II. PREPPING THE SILHOUETTE

for the effect to work, we want a silhouette that's dark as possible. i'm gonna use the gwen and arthur shots as examples.

for the gwen gif, i started by sharpening, and then upped the contrast by quite a lot so her silhouette is mostly black, while retaining some nice details. i've used only 3 layers here:

selective color layer: in the blacks tab, playing with the black slider (value: +10)

brightness/contrast layer: added a lot of contrast (+61) and a bit of brightness (+10)

black and white layer: on top, its blending mode set to soft light and at 20% opacity. gives a bit more depth and contrast

then for the arthur example, i've also sharpened it first, and added contrast layers in this order (the skintone looks horrible, but it won't matter soon lol):

levels layer: black slider at 0, grey slider at 0.76, white slider at 104

selective color layer: in the blacks tab, black slider at +10

brightness/contrast layer: brightness at +1-, contrast at +47

black and white layer: on top, its blending mode set to soft light and at 20% opacity. gives a bit more depth and contrast

as you can see, half of his face is still quite bright. to correct that, create a new empty layer and put it between the gif and the coloring layers.

using a really soft brush and the black color, brush some black over his face and body on that new empty layer. you can edit the layer's opacity if you want, i've set mine to 71%. since arthur doesn't move much here, there's no need to keyframe this layer's position. for the morgana example, this is where you'd need to play with keyframes to make it work. here's where i'm at now after this:

you can always edit this layer later if you need, after doing the double exposure blending.

once the silhouette is all ready, you can put all layers in a group and rename it (i've renamed mine silhouette).

III. BLENDING

now the fun part! import the wide/scenery shot in photoshop, then resize it to the same height of your silhouette gif. make sure the gif is a smart object layer, and sharpen it. finally, bring this gif onto the silhouette canvas (by right clicking the smart object > duplicate layer). once you have both gifs onto your canvas, put the wide shot gif layer in a group, and set this group's blending option to screen.

you can then position the wide/scenery gif the way you like it in the canvas. this is how it looks for both examples after i've done that:

if the blending mode screen doesn't give you the best result, so you can play around with other blending modes (such as lighten and linear dodge in these particular cases), but generally speaking, screen is the real mvp here haha.

IV. COLORING

now that the double exposure effect is done, we need to color the gifs to bring them together. i went with simple coloring here, simply enhancing the colors that were already there. just make sure that the coloring layers for each gif are in their respective groups. here's how i've colored both examples:

gwen silhouette group: i added a gradient map layer on top of the contrast layers in black to green and set the blending mode to color

scenery shot group: multiple coloring layers, with a green color fill layer (blending mode set to color), with a layer mask so it only affects the top half of the gif

for the arthur gif, i did something very similar but with warmer colors. i didn't use a gradient map for arthur though:

arthur silhouette group: i made the yellow warmer, closer to orange/red, with a hue/saturation layer, and added more vibrance. didn't feel like it needed a gradient map layer here though.

wide shot group: basic coloring layers to enhance colors from the merlin & daegal shot, and an orange color fill layer set to the color blending mode.

at this point you're pretty much done. just need to add some final touches and typography (if you want).

V. FINAL TOUCHES

a small and completely optional detail, but i wanted to soften the edges of the wide gifs. to do so i've duplicated the smart object gif layer and removed the sharpening filters (right click on smart filter > clear smart filters). put this layer on top of the other smart object layers (but still below the coloring).

then with this same layer still selected, go to filter > blur > gaussian blur... > 10px. this will give you a very blurry gif, but we only want the edges of the canvas to be softer. so add a layer mask to this layer. with a very large and soft brush (mine was at 0% hardness and about 800px size), brush some black onto the layer mask to remove the blur in the middle of the gif.

you can play with this layer's opacity or gaussian blur amount if you want (by double clicking on the gaussian blur smart layer filter). here how both examples look with this gaussian blur layer:

you can also mask some of wide/scenery gifs if you'd prefer, so it shows less outside of the silhouette. just put a layer mask on that whole wide shot group and brush some black or grey on the layer mask. it's what i did for the gwen gif, with a very soft brush and i set the mask density to 72% (i kept the arthur one as is tho):

and that's how i did it! hopefully that was clear enough :)

[strawberry-halla]

yeah alright chat let’s buckle down and psychoanalyze the veilguard ‘atonement’ ending theme!

for those who wish to listen along, the lovely amazing ghil dirthalen was able to capture the music (bioware for the love of god PLEASE release this track i will sell my soul for it) on her youtube channel, here!

i am not a music professional! these are things i picked up on listening to the theme by itself and watching the ending. i try my best to identify instruments so i will make errors in correctly identifying them. please educate me if you know more than me! i don't want to discredit anything used here!

alright let’s get into it!

0:00 - 0:47

plays right after defeating elgar’nan, this is the dread wolf theme as solas is staggering down the steps monologuing to rook about how his plan to tear down the veil must go on.

rook intercepts the lyrium dagger and here is where they make the choice to either trick, fight, or redeem solas.

0:48 - 1:18

the music is tense, but the dread wolf theme slows and starts to morph into something else.

rook turns to solas, saying how they do not wish to fight him and are given another dialogue choice after choosing the ‘redeem’ option.

1:19 - 1:30

the music sort of dins out here to just the cello/violin(?).

rook is telling solas that his plan to bring down the veil is not what he needs to do nor is it in HIS best interest. i think the music fades out here because the three dialogue options you're given are very powerful in their wording and needed to be amplified.

1:31 - 1:57

the violin/cello(?) starts off and you can hear some notes resembling the inquisition theme. this is solidified by the harp joining in and then you hear notes of someone singing like the well of sorrows theme from inquisition. i like to think this is solas fighting with himself thinking of his time during inquisition (and with lavellan) and the well of sorrows theme is both playing as solas's unyielding devotion to mythal.

solas is given the lyrium dagger to make his choice. he looks down at it, and for a brief moment you can see him tapping the blade with his finger. he's pondering this plan. he looks up at rook briefly before looking back down at the dagger again. solas looks like he's going to say something, but turns away from rook and starts to walk up the steps.

1:58 - 2:05

the harp plays the inquisition motif, or at least a very short brief version of it. you can hear the singing still as lavellan steps into the doorway and looks up at solas.

2:06 - 2:23

the violin plays as solas finally reaches the top of the stairs. it almost sounds like it's pulling? it changes notes almost as if it's changing direction. solas fighting with the idea of tearing down the veil or binding himself to it.

finally he says he can't bind himself. that 'to stop those would dishonor those i wronged to come this far.' i don't know what instrument it is, i think it's a woodwind instrument and a rainstick? plays as solas says he can't bind himself to the veil. he chooses to persist in his plan despite being given a way out.

2:24 - 2:28

GOD THIS PART. the choir builds as the inquisitor's voice cuts solas off. this same string of notes sung is often used in inquisition when the inquisitor comes on screen in the past.

no other instrument is played here. it is just the voices of the choir.

'vhenan...'

2:29 - 2:37

one note of the piano drops as soon as solas turns his head from lavellan in shame. this was exactly what he feared, letting her see him like this. the inquisitor starts trying to reason with solas: 'you think you've gone too far to come back, but you're wrong.'

2:38 - 2:53

alright SO this part is EXTREMELY important and also INCREDIBLY hard to pinpoint but if you go back and listen to inquisition's 'thedas love theme' you CAN hear parts of it interwoven in this section. the cello is so overwhelming because the inquisitor is pulling solas away from his plan again.

he's wanting to listen but he's fighting so hard because he doesn't think he deserves this. even after lavellan says she forgives him! solas doesn't think he's worthy of her.

2:54 - 3:20

the cello is pulling faster to add tension to this part because once again solas rejects even the love of his life's plea! you become hopeless thinking that their love never mattered even against the fate of the world. solas says he cannot because he feels like he NEEDS to avenge mythal by bringing down the veil. he's bound by duty and pride, there is no wisdom here.

3:21 - 3:55

ALRIGHTY FOLKS THIS PART HERE OHHHH MY GOD. so the cello swells again because solas is about to tear down the veil it seems for good, because if not even his vhenan can convince him, who can?

morrigan shows up, and as soon as she stands before solas you get slammed with all three games' themes at once! first you hear origins and then 2, and then finally inquisition all interwoven together. this part is SO insane to me. holy shit!!!!!!!

i just want to say even though we are talking about the music, you will see that morrigan, rook, and lavellan are lined up from left to right. past, present, and future. i am so fucking feral over that. they did that on purpose i don't care what anyone says. anyways! back to the music.

3:56 - 4:20

the choir again! holy fuck! you can hear da2 and a little bit of origins? at least i think it's that. this is played as rook hands morrigan mythal's essence and she channels it for mythal to appear before solas. literal chills babes!

4:21 - 4:55

DO YOU GUYS FUCKING HEAR TRESPASSER? BECAUSE I SURE FUCKING DO. HOLY SHIT. I CANNOT EVEN DESCRIBE TO YOU WHAT THIS MEANS. lost elf. solas is lost. he's lost EVERYTHING up until this moment. his family, his friends, his soulmate, EVERYTHING. he's like a sad, lost, child in this moment.

anyways! lost elf starts off really quiet and slow and deep as mythal lays out her wrongs in front of solas, showing him that he alone was not the pariah of this story. mythal reminds him that she also committed the same wrongs as he did, it's not solas's alone to regret. she was there too. if not for her, solas would not have done what he did.

4:56 - 5:22

lost elf is still playing very quietly in the background! as soon as mythal appears the cello is more carefree, flowing, free! solas is free now! lavellan KNEELS before him as solas breaks down, an immense weight falling off him as he's finally free to be who he chooses. no longer bound by pride and regret.

solas stands up and realizes that what he wants is to atone. to fix his mistakes the right way, not the way mythal would have wanted or his pride would want. his wisdom sees that if he uses what he knows, he can at least start to mend the past wrongs.

5:23 - 6:02

ugh i don't know who let hans zimmer absolutely fucking COOK here but the cello starts to move faster in a more hopeful, determined state as solas binds himself to the veil and promises to soothe the titan's dreams, help find a cure for the blight, and atone for all his mistakes. it really fills you with a sense of relief and pride for him! like yeah babe you do that! proud of you!!!

6:03 - 7:14

ok so i actually have been crying the entire time lol! i literally cannot stop. so this part! so many big feelings. lavellan steps up to solas, telling him that he won't make this journey alone. the main chorus of lost elf starts to play and i cannot tell you when you hear the cello and the fucking violin start playing TOGETHER because solas and lavellan are finally TOGETHER after being literally put through the fucking wringer for 10 fucking years.

and the SYMBOLS CRASHING TOGETHER WHEN THEY KISS IS JUST HOW I FEEL ALL THE TIME ABOUT THEM. lost elf is THEIR theme. this is not just solas's theme anymore this is solas AND lavellan's theme. they made it their theme. this is about them now, your honor!

alright so that's how i feel about all of that because this theme literally has rocked me to my core. the entire sequence is insane. the past motifs of the past games being used destroys me. and then lost elf comes in and just smacks the nail in the fucking coffin.

thank you bioware for absolutely destroying me 10 times over with this theme. and thanks to all the people who actually read my insane ramblings! i will never shut up about this sequence for the rest of my life.

[ghost-cinnamon]

Since I crocheted Error last time I wanted to crochet Ink so they could hold hands :3

If you also want to crochet him I attached my pattern below

Have fun crocheting :)

Ink Sans

Abbreviations

R - Row

Rd - Round

ch - chain

ss - slip stitch

sc - single crochet

hdc - half double crochet

dc - double crochet

trc - treble/triple crochet

inc - increase

dec - decrease

flo - front loops only

bl - back loops

[…] x2/3/6 - repeat what is inside the brackets 2/3/6 times

(…) - the number inside of the brackets is the number of stitches that round is supposed to have

Legs x2

Rd1: 6sc into Magic Ring

Rd2: 6inc

Rd3: [1sc, inc]x6

Rd4-18: sc around

don’t tie off the second leg, connect it to the other leg with a ss

Rd19-21: sc around (36sc)

Change color to black

Rd22-30: sc around

Rd31: 2sc, Dec, 5sc, Dec, sc,Dec, 6sc, Dec,6sc, Dec, sc, Dec,3sc

Rd32: 8sc, 3dec,7sc, 3dec, 3sc

Rd33: 7sc, 2dec, 2sc, 2dec, 2sc, 2dec, 1sc

Rd34: [1sc, Dec]x6

Rd35: sc around (12sc)

3sc to middle of the back and change color to white

Rd36: [1sc, inc] x6

Rd37: [2sc, inc] x6

Rd38: [3sc, inc] x6

Rd39: [4sc, inc] x6 *fertig

Rd40: [5sc, inc] x6

Rd41: [6sc, inc] x6

Rd42: [7sc, inc] x6

Rd43-47: sc around

Rd48: [7sc, Dec] x6

Rd49: sc around

Rd50: [6sc, Dec] x6

Rd51: sc around

Rd52: [5sc, Dec] x6

Rd53: [4sc, Dec] x6

Rd54: [3sc, Dec] x6

Rd55: [2sc, Dec] x6

Rd56: [1sc, Dec] x6

Rd57: 6 Dec

Arms x2

Rd1: 6sc into Magic ring

Rd2: 6inc

Change color to brown

Rd3-4: sc around

Change color to black

Rd5-18: sc around

Toes x2

R1: ch7

R2: 6sc

Sew body together and add the face

Pants

Rd1: ch31

Rd2: ss into first chain, 30sc

Rd3-4: sc around

Rd5: [8sc, Dec] x3

Rd6-7: sc around

Rd8: [7sc, Dec] x3

Rd9-11: sc around

Rd12: [6sc, Dec] x3

Rd13: sc around

Don’t tie off the second pant leg, connect with ss to other pant leg

Rd14-15: sc around

Rd16: [12sc, Dec] x3

Rd17: [11sc, Dec] x3

Rd18: 16sc, flo 9sc, ch1, turn

R19: 9sc, ch1, turn

R20: 9sc, ch1, turn

R21: 9sc, ch1, turn

R22: 9sc

Suspenders x2

R1: ch21

R2: 20sc

Sew the suspenders to the pants

Shirt

Panels x2

R1: ch17

R2-12: 16sc, ch1, turn

R13: 13sc, ch1, turn

R14: 10sc, ch1, turn

Sleeves x2

Rd1: ch13

Rd2: ss into first chain, 12sc

Rd3-7: sc around

Rd8: 6sc, ch1, turn, 6sc, ch1, turn, 12sc to end of round

Rd9: sc around

Sew everything together

(The white wool I had was thinner than the rest of the wool that I used. So now the stitches are bigger than I would’ve liked but if you use the right wool it should be fine)

Crop top

Panels x2

R1: ch19

R2: 18sc, ch1, turn

Change color to brown

R3-4: 18sc, ch1, turn

R5: 15sc, ch1, turn

R6: 12sc, ch1, turn

R7: trc, dc, 2hdc, 4sc, 2hdc, dc, trc

Scarf

R1: ch6

R2-90: 5sc, ch1, turn

Brush

Rd1: 3sc into magic ring

Rd2: 3inc

Rd3: [1sc, inc] x3

Rd4: [2sc, inc] x3

Rd5: [3sc, inc] x3

Rd6: [4sc, inc] x3

Change color to brown

Rd7: [5sc, inc] x3

Rd8: [6sc, inc] x3

Rd9-11: sc around

Rd12: [2sc, dec] x6

Change color to yellow

Rd13: flo sc around

Rd14: sc around in the previously unworked bl of the last brown row

Change color to beige

Rd15-30: sc around

Change color to yellow

Rd31: flo sc around

Rd32: sc around in the previously unworked bl of the last beige row

Change color to beige

Rd33-36: sc around

Rd37: 6dec

Belt

R1: ch4

R2-46: 3sc, ch1, turn

Sew the ends together to make a loop

R1: ch4

R2-11: 3sc, ch1, turn

Sew onto loop (this will be where the brush is being held)

Optionally you can cut out the vials out of felt and sew them onto the front of the belt

Now just dress your Ink and finished

Now he‘ll be able to hold hands with your Error :>

You’ll find the crochet pattern for Error here

You can slo find the pattern for classic here

This is my second ever pattern so if you have any questions feel free to ask me and I’ll try to clear things up. Have fun :)

[avianoutcast]

[MASTER POST]

(LIST & LINKS DOWN BELOW)

(Still too lazy to change the master post cover lol)

Outcast: Sup fellas. Outcast!Sans here! Me and my partner, Avia, would like to welcome you all to our lil' side of the multiverse.

Avia: For this post, we'll be creating a 'Master Post' documenting all our progress (and shenanigans) in the creation of this AU.

So if you're interested, please like, follow and stay tuned for further updates!💜

And If any of you have questions either about the lore or characters, please feel free to Ask!❤️💙

Outcast: Aaannd if ya just wanna chillax, you can always ask good ol' Sans for some 'rib-tickling' jokes! Heh

----------------

About [Asking]

About Ships // pt.2

----------------

[MY AUs]

PROMISEDTALE

REFERENCE SHEETS

Chara ref sheet // pt.2

Alphys & Papyrus

Promise!Gaster Color Palette + character references

Age ref

AU INFO

Soul Modes

Data Collection // pt.2 // pt.3

Gaster's Ability

Outcast's Soul

Soul Synchronization

Scrying Poppies

Height.lol

Crashing

Error Confrontation

Bad Sanses // MTT interaction

SNOWBY SHENANIGANS pt1, pt2, pt3

British Gaster XD

Brotherless

Core.Frisk Encounter

File not found

Gaster's friends

Hobbies

Nightmare Encounter

A Blessing or A Curse

COMIC

File_01—Gaster (Chapter 0)

Cover-p. 5, p. 6-8, p.9-10, p.11-13, p.14-15, p.16-17, p.18-21, p.22-24, p.25-28, p.29-31, p.32-35, p.36-38, p.39-41, p.42 (extra), p.43-44, p.45-46, p.47-49, p.50-51, p.52-53, p.54-55

----------------------------------------

DREAMLESS AU

Creator's ramblings

More ramblings TwT

Besties XD

The Skele-boys Gang XD

Nightlight outfit design! (Line art)

Finding Dream

Dreamless

Height

Meeting with the OGs X3

Dreamless' Last Letter

Dreamless in color (still too lazy to make a ref sheet TwT)

Inevitable Fate

Training // Success

A Dream or A Nightmare

------

[AU SPECIALS]

(just for fun and art practices)

Outcast!Sans zine cover

12.22♑

Christmas Special X3

New Year 2025!

Promise!Gaster Art

Outcast color practice

Avia color practice

The Skele-boys Gang XD

250+ Animatic Special💜🎉🎉 // script

Favorite/theme songs

Special Cake by Mama Star!✨

Human versions X3 // pt.2

Gaster doodles

Valentine's Special❤️💙💚🧡✨✨// + SNOWBY

MafiaAU.lol // pt.2

Swapped out XD ft.Epictale (lol)

Kun1 DTIYS X3

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[TAGS]

#asks

#au info

#PromisedTaleAU

#PromisedTalefanarts

#DreamlessAU

#avia

#Outcast!Sans

#Dreamless!dream

#undertale

#undertale comic

#utmv

#utmv au

#reblogs

[thebestofoneshots]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 | Born to be Wild

63 | Something About You

64 | Put Out The Fire

65 | Spell Binder

66 | Hot Love

67 | What's On My Mind

68 | Mysteries and Mayhem

69 | Livin' Thing

70 | Back Talk

71 | We've Only Just Begun

72 | Relentless 

73 | Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’

74 |

75 |

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BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

jake in the pirate au has a better memory for who elected him leader than jake in canon lmao

I am FASCINATED by that line in #50 where Jake says "You know why I was in charge in the first place, Cassie? Because once upon a time, a long time ago, Marco said I was.” [emphasis added] Okay, yes, Doylisticly it's probably a continuity error. Tobias declaring Jake the leader was 49 books ago and all.

But in-universe, it says something about how much the team dynamics have shifted by that point in the series. Tobias hasn't believed in Jake The Hero since the first book. He's the first to question Jake's decisions (e.g. #11, #16) and calls Jake out for excluding Cassie more than anyone else in #51 - 53. He knows and resents the fact that Jake "worries about [him] more than anyone" (#22) hates having to rely on Jake (#3), repeatedly sides with Toby against Jake (#23, #34, #47), and hates Jake's habit of putting their friends in danger (#11, #26, #33, etc). Tobias and Jake are also in a uniquely awkward position at that point: "We'd almost traded places. Tobias the orphan suddenly had a mother. Jake, the poster boy for the all-American nuclear family, was alone. Living in somebody else's house, the way I'd always had to" (#49).

Marco, on the other hand, has never been more pro-Jake. Marco has, by his own standards, already won the war: "my mom was back. Happy she and my dad were still nauseatingly in love... I practically had to tie myself to a tree to keep from running up and down the valley, arms spread wide, belting out show tunes" (#51). He's utterly confident that "Jake knows these things," that "Jake's our general" that Jake will win them the war (#51). NOBODY ELSE (except maybe Eva) still thinks this about Jake as of #51, least of all Jake himself. But Marco (and Eva) got those rose-colored glasses because Jake already pulled off killing Visser One.

Which is an interesting reversal from #1, where Tobias insists "you're the leader, Jake" and Marco laughs in Jake's face when he tries to lead, saying "This is reality. You don't know anything about reality, Jake. Nothing bad has ever really happened to you" (#1). How things change, over 3 years and a few hundred hopeless battles.