I LOVE THIS

pls

would you fall in love with me again from epic but its squid games and when i say squid games its just two versions and two versions means gihun x sangwoo and gihun x inho ft. a few lyrical changes lmaooo

1:

sangwoo: would you fall inlove with me again?

gihun: i would fall inlove with you over and over again i dont care how where or when you’re mine

sangwoo: i’m not the person i once was

gihun: DONT TELL ME YOU’RE NOT THE SAME PERSON! YOU’RE ALWAYS MY HUSBAND AND I’VE BEEN WAITING

sangwoo: gihun…

2:

inho: now that you know im not young-il..that i’m not the man you fell in love with..tell me..would you fall inlove with me again?

gihun: i would fall inlove with you over and over again i dont care how where or when you’re mine

inho: GET IT THROUGH YOU’RE SKULL IM NOT YOUNG-IL, IM THE ORGANIZER OF THESE GAMES, ME AND YOUNG-IL ARE NOT ONE AND THE SAME

gihun: DONT TELL ME YOU’RE NOT THE SAME PERSON! YOU’RE ALWAYS MY LOVE AND I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU

inho: gihun…

🥰 🥰 🥰 for @rjshope

need them both ngl

Lee Byung-hun, as Hwang In-ho/Front Man/Player 001, in Squid Game Season 2 (2024).

shattered promises || lh44 x reader

|| pairings: lewis hamilton x reader, platonic f1 grid x reader

|| angst

|| from the author: read angst hcs of f1 so i had to write one please remember this is just fictional, a work of my imagination

-fic under the cut-

The family home buzzed with chatter and laughter, the scent of home-cooked meals filling the air as everyone gathered for yet another event—one of many you’d grown used to over the years. Normally, these events made you feel content, like you belonged to something stable, a network of love that kept you grounded. You found comfort in them, and in Lewis, who stood beside you. His hand rested at the small of your back as you mingled with relatives, the familiar warmth of his touch steadying you.

But tonight was different. There was an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t quite place, a gnawing discomfort that tugged at your chest the longer the evening stretched on. Every so often, you caught your sister casting glances at Lewis—glances that felt too intimate, too knowing. At first, you brushed it off. You trusted them both implicitly; after all, your sister was family, and Lewis was the love of your life. The man who whispered sweet promises of forever in your ear on quiet nights, the man who made you feel like you were his world.

But something was wrong. You could feel it in the way Lewis’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes whenever he looked at you, or in the way your sister seemed nervous, her laughter too forced when they interacted. The uneasy feeling festered as the night wore on, growing harder to ignore.

It all came to a head when you excused yourself from a conversation with some cousins, needing a moment to breathe and collect your racing thoughts. As you walked down the hallway, seeking a quiet corner of the house, you heard it. Muffled voices. The soft murmur of your sister’s voice, mixed with Lewis’s low, frantic tones.

You froze, heart hammering in your chest as you stood just outside the door. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but something kept you rooted to the spot. You couldn’t stop yourself.

“Lewis, we can’t do this,” your sister’s voice whispered urgently, panic clear in her tone. “It was a mistake.”

“I know, I know,” Lewis replied, his voice strained. “It was a one-time thing. We were drunk, we weren’t thinking… but we can’t let her find out.”

Her. You.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, and the air seemed to vanish from your lungs. Your mind raced, a sickening realization dawning on you as the blood rushed in your ears. You felt your knees wobble, the floor beneath you seeming to fall away as the betrayal washed over you in suffocating waves.

You pushed the door open, your hands trembling. Their heads snapped toward you, faces drained of color as they registered your presence. Your sister’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Lewis stepped forward, panic and guilt written all over his face.

“Y/N…,” he began, his voice shaking. “Please, let me explain.”

Your throat burned as you tried to speak, but the words got stuck. Tears welled up in your eyes, hot and unstoppable, as you took in the sight of them together. Your sister—the person you had grown up with, confided in, trusted more than anyone else in the world. And Lewis, the man who had sworn he would never hurt you.

“How could you?” you finally choked out, voice breaking. “Both of you? My own sister, and you… Lewis, how could you do this to me?”

Your sister’s face crumpled as she stepped forward, reaching out, her voice trembling. “Y/N, it was a mistake, I swear. We were drunk, it didn’t mean anything. Please—”

“Stop,” you spat, taking a step back, your chest heaving with sobs you could no longer hold back. “Don’t say another word. Don’t try to justify it. You both knew what you were doing. Drunk or not, you knew.” You turned to Lewis, the hurt in your eyes piercing through the fog of shock that clouded your mind. “You promised me,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “You said I was your forever. Was that a lie too?”

Tears filled Lewis’s eyes as he reached out for you, desperation clawing at his every word. “No, it wasn’t. Please, Y/N, it was one mistake. One night. I was drunk—I wasn’t thinking. But I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

But his words fell on deaf ears. Your heart was shattered, and all you could think of was getting away. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them, couldn’t bear to hear any more lies. Without another word, you turned and bolted out of the house, ignoring their frantic calls as you fled into the night, tears blinding your vision.

The cool night air hit you like a slap to the face, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside you. You didn’t know where you were going; all you knew was that you needed to run, to escape the crushing weight of their betrayal. Your legs carried you down the street, feet pounding against the pavement as sobs wracked your body.

“Y/N!” Lewis’s voice rang out behind you, growing closer as he chased after you, his footsteps echoing against the empty street. “Please, don’t leave! Let me explain! I can’t live without you. I love you, please… don’t go.”

But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His words only fueled your pain, making it harder to breathe. “Stay away from me!” you screamed, your voice breaking as your tears blurred everything around you. You were so lost in your grief that you didn’t see the car speeding down the road, didn’t hear the blaring horn until it was too late.

The impact came with a sickening thud, and the world went dark.

Lewis watched in horror as your body crumpled to the ground, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Time seemed to freeze as he stood there, paralyzed with shock.

“No… no, no, no,” he whispered, rushing to your side. His hands trembled as he gathered your limp body into his arms, blood seeping into the pavement beneath you. “Please, no. Please don’t do this. Y/N, wake up. Wake up, please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you. “I wasn’t able to make it right. Let me tell her I love her one last time. I know I never deserved her, but why take her away? Why now?”

His words echoed into the night, but there was no answer. Only the silence of the empty street and the cold, lifeless body of the woman he loved more than anything.

The day of your funeral was dreary, the sky gray and overcast, as if the world itself mourned your loss. The church was packed with family, friends, and the entire F1 grid, but the air was thick with anger and blame. Lewis stood at the back, his face pale and gaunt, hollowed out by grief. His eyes, red and swollen from sleepless nights and endless tears, scanned the crowd, but no one would meet his gaze.

As the service ended, the drivers gathered around your grave, their faces hard with fury. Fernando Alonso was the first to approach him, his hand clenched into a fist.

“This is your fault,” Fernando hissed, his voice low and venomous before his fist connected with Lewis’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. “You killed her.”

Lewis didn’t even fight back. The pain of the punch was nothing compared to the weight of his guilt. He barely reacted as the other drivers closed in, their faces a mix of rage and disgust. Max Verstappen, Sergio Pérez, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc—they all looked at him as though he were the lowest form of life.

“Stay away from her grave,” Oscar Piastri snarled, shoving Lewis back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Lewis stood there, unable to move, unable to defend himself as the drivers took turns spitting their anger at him. He didn’t blame them. He deserved every word, every blow. He had failed you in the worst possible way.

Your friends, Lily Muni He, Alexandra Saint Mleux, Kika Gomes, Flavy Barla, and Kelly Piquet, stood off to the side, their eyes filled with contempt as they hurled insults at him and your sister.

“You’re disgusting,” Kika spat, her eyes blazing with hatred. “How could you do this to her? She loved you.”

“And you,” Lily said, glaring at your sister, her voice trembling with fury. “How could you betray her like that? You’re her sister!”

Your family wasn’t any more forgiving. Your mother, her face streaked with tears, approached Lewis as they lowered your coffin into the ground. She slapped him across the face, her sobs tearing through the quiet.

“Why are you here?” she screamed, her voice hoarse with grief. “Go away! You have no right to be here!”

Your father turned on your sister, his face twisted with rage. “How dare you show your face here?” he growled. “You are no child of mine.”

The weight of their anger and blame was suffocating, but Lewis couldn’t leave. He couldn’t tear himself away from your grave, from the last place he would ever see you. He had lost everything—his love, his future, his world.

In the end, he stood alone, surrounded by the wreckage of his choices. You were gone, and no amount of apologies or tears could bring you back. He had destroyed the one good thing in his life, and now he would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his days.

happy logan sargeant in an indycar month to those who celebrate

requests are open <3

he is like deeply engraved in my brain atp.