#but at the same time you have major representatives of the team making full statements with racially charged undertones to the press

[mistressemmedi]

Just my two cents here but I see a lot of people justifying RBR's decision with "Yuki's a Honda man".

Yuki is a RB driver, contracted with RB and driving for Alphatauri. He is not a Honda driver on loan to RB, which I feel like that's the impression a lot of people have.

Was his sponsorship association with Honda one factor considered in the overall decision? Sure. Is it THEEE deciding factor? No.

[warsamongthestars]

We did it, we did the "Versus". We have successfully beaten up fictional characters intended for a children's cartoon show.

We've broken their defenses, now its time to take the castle.

First , we have to address what we're taking.

We already addressed the obvious major problem, and that's the totally original-character-no-no-stealing.. though technically its not by her character, but merely how the narrative wants to bend the world around her character.

( On her own, she's perfectly fine. I want to make that clear--I simply don't like what she represents and I hate the narrative and what its done to get this far. )

Now the subtle problem.

The subtle problem is... The Writers were not writing the Bad Batch.

This one is going to be a bit hard to explain without a full on episodic breakdown (and that takes time, patience and energy, lemme tell you ).

But the writers were writing Clones... But they were writing the 501st Clones, not the Bad Batch. Oh it was dressed up as the Bad Batch just fine, but they were not writing those characters.

THe first is Hunter. Hunter is not stoic, he's compulsively sarcastic. He's not some "take it on the shoulder" character, he tends to get overwhelmed (and in that case, one of his brothers steps up to back him up) and goes quiet. He plays around just as much as the rest of his team. He's just as pointedly aggressive towards Regs as the rest of his team (though he simply more composed about it... some what)

As I've pointed out in VERSUS... TBB Hunter isn't Hunter.

.... TBB Hunter is Captain Rex. Stoic, No Nonsense, keeps things lawful and under control, never once speaks out of turn or really let's anyone speak outta turn? That's Rex all the way. We have 7 years of that being Rex.

TCWs Hunter is meant to be Rex's Contrast, his Opposite; not his Foil. Its the ragged wild snarker who breaks rules versus the hard nosed clean shaven by-the book soldier.

TBB Hunter is written to be an Early-Seasons Captain Rex.

And the rest, save one, all follow that same thought pattern.

TBB Echo is written to be Fives. He's a badly written Fives, but he's written to be in Fives' place. I know the fandom logic is that Fives is shonen-comic wild, but that's not true. Fives is grumpy, Fives prefers professional straight-forward takes when on mission, Fives snarks and bitches...

They basically resurrected Fives, when they wrote TBB Echo, but then never bothered to keep up with the fact that Fives and Echo are both wild sons of bitches who will take matters into their own hands if given the slightest opportunity.

( But if TBB Echo had done that, they would've actually have to make him a main character and they can't do that--they have Omega for the main character spot. )

It doesn't end there.

Wrecker? Hardcase. Like, straight up, Umbara depicted Hardcase. Hardcase was basically the proto-type Wrecker. But like with TBB Echo.

The interesting one, is Crosshair's.

Because they replaced Crosshair... with Jesse.

Look back on TCWs Crosshair, is he actually a character that gives one shit about missions, causes or even ranks? No. He openly mocks characters in front of their commanding officers and generals. He actively undermines Rex's authority and respect. He randomly picks fights with soldiers he's meant to be working with. If Crosshair honestly gave one shit about missions and causes, he wouldn't be working so hard to cause that much disruption. Oh its clear that he does take a lot of pride in being a sniper... but one can be a Sniper outside of the military (The galaxy is filled with bounty hunting after all).

But Jesse? Absolutely. He's snarky, he's snippy and he's hardcore to the cause... How do I know? The man tattooed the symbol of the Republic on his face. If that's not a hard core character statement, then I must be going blind.

Omega is just fill in for Ahsoka.

Tech is the only one who doesn't have a direct line to a TCWs Clone... but that would make sense as to why it was a reason kill him off Season 2. After all, they aren't going to kill main characters "Rex", "Fives", "Hardcase", "Jesse" and "Ahsoka". Kill off the new guy, he was never going to last long anyway after all...

They effectively wrote TBB for the TCWs main clone characters (Even those who died in TCWs), but then dressed them up as TBB Characters.

Same familiar TCWs archetypes... wrong roles, and wrong faces.

[pavspatch]

Stability Not the Spectacular at Celtic

LOOK after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves. Give that old saying a football twist, and it pretty much sums up the philosophy of Stalybridge Celtic's new co-majority shareholders Nigel Jones and Paul Bowden.

There are no grandiose statements to win the attention and approval of supporters, no plans to win Football League status within ten or 15 years, and no huge infrastructure projects. Instead, there's plenty of talk of incremental progress starting with winning promotion from the Pitching In first division west back up to the premier division.

Mr Jones equates it all with what would be called the discovery phase in business — finding out what works, what doesn't work, and what could be done better.

"It’s a journey of continual improvement. You don’t get everything right at once but if you keep steadily improving things will follow from there. It’s all about improving the squad, governance, the matchday experience and the relationship fans. That’s how we’ll drive things forward," he explained.

"First of all we need to get the right squad in place and time is against us. We have to hit the ground running and although we've been co-owners less than a week we've already made some moves such as a fans' forum on Monday, June 5. The rest will come over the next few weeks and months.

"Paul and I believe the fans are ready for a change. It's been a difficult few years culminating in last season' relegation. Rob Gorski was at the club a long time and we need to show that the change people are demanding is taking place. They need to see we’re not just following the status quo.

"We’ve started the process by appointing a new manager. That’s no reflection on Chris Willcock’s abilities – I don’t actually know him at all – but Stalybridge Celtic needs a fresh start. We also need to maximise revenues. By doing that we’ll have more money for players. We need to have the best team we can.

"First and foremost we’ll look at the more straightforward things like sponsorship and increasing matchday revenues. Let's take things one step at a time, focus on the little things first and gradually build up."

After going through seven managers in ten years (eight including the Paul Phillips's partner Steve Halford), plus many other comings and goings, the new owners also believe the club craves and indeed requires a period of stability.

In James Kinsey, who was with Mr Jones at Wythenshawe Town, they believe they have a manager who can provide it. Their intention is to have him in charge for a lengthy period.

"We need stability 100 per cent. I know James well and have worked with him. We're looking for him to be with us for many years and that's something I think is very important at this level," said Mr Jones.

"He'll be given a budget and he’ll have full control of that. James can consult us if he feels he needs to but we’re more than happy to let him get on with it.

"James is young and he has that energy and drive that goes with youth. That energy he brings is fantastic and it will make a big difference, especially if we can get the fans with us."

One of the charges often levelled at Rob Gorski was that he treated Stalybridge Celtic as a hobby rather than a business. It was an accusation he utterly refuted, and Jones and Bowden insist it's the same with them.

Although Mr Jones willingly talks about fun and getting a buzz, he adds that he and his co-majority shareholder are determined to change the club's fortunes and turn it into a success.

He said: "We’re deadly serious. We accept it’s going to be very tough to take Celtic into profit but we want to win. I run a business that employs 500 people and that’s a challenge. There are good times and there are bad times.

"While Paul lives in Bristol, I live in Sale and represent the local face of our partnership. I’m planning to be at Bower Fold every week and we're going to put some good governance in place. We really want to do this properly.

"Stalybridge Celtic has a good name in the North West and that's why we were interested in buying it. There are also some good people at the club who put a lot of time in for no financial reward – just for the love of it."

And what of the much talked-about state-of-the-art 3G pitch and new social club Celtic have chased for so long? Mr Jones added: "Every non-league club will have researched 3G pitches and know the money they can bring in from things like midweek five-a-side leagues.

"There may be grants available from bodies such as from the Football Foundation, but these things take time and are a big commitment.

"We’re not going to promise A, B and C or say we'll suddenly transform Bower Fold. We’re going to start by concentrating on what happens on the pitch. Hopefully, we should be able to achieve promotion quite quickly – maybe even in the first season. We'll move on from there."

[inspirdgtrends]

Las Vegas Raiders x Hello Kitty 2024 Baseball Jersey

Product link:https://inspirdg.com/product/las-vegas-raiders-x-hello-kitty-2024-baseball-jersey/

Store link:https://inspirdg.com/

Las Vegas Raiders x Hello Kitty 2024 Baseball Jersey: A Perfect Union of Boldness and Cuteness

In a world where fandoms are constantly blending, the Las Vegas Raiders x Hello Kitty 2024 Baseball Jersey stands as a beacon of creativity, bringing together the intense world of NFL football and the timeless charm of Hello Kitty. This collaboration is one of the most unique we’ve seen in sportswear, combining the fierce spirit of the Las Vegas Raiders with the sweet, playful persona of Hello Kitty. It’s more than just a jersey — it’s a statement, a celebration of diverse fandoms, and a testament to the idea that sports and pop culture can coexist in harmony.

Bold Design Meets Hello Kitty’s Signature Charm

At first glance, the Las Vegas Raiders x Hello Kitty 2024 Baseball Jersey immediately commands attention with its striking design. The pink base is an unexpected but delightful departure from the traditional black and silver Raiders colors, adding an element of playfulness to the team’s typically tough, rugged aesthetic. This color choice is a nod to Hello Kitty’s iconic charm and helps create a fusion that appeals to a wide range of fans, blending the aggressive energy of football with the sweetness of Hello Kitty.

On the front of the jersey, the bold RAIDERS logo is proudly displayed in the center of the chest. The sleek black font contrasts perfectly against the pink backdrop, ensuring that the Raiders’ identity remains at the forefront of the design. To the side, the Nike swoosh gives the jersey a stamp of authenticity, ensuring fans that this piece isn’t just stylish — it’s high quality and durable, made for both fashion and function.

The true highlight of the jersey, however, is the depiction of Hello Kitty as a football player. On both the front and back, Hello Kitty is dressed in full Las Vegas Raiders football gear, complete with a helmet, jersey, and football in hand. The little details — like her signature bow now colored in Raiders’ black and gold — add a touch of whimsy while remaining true to the football theme. It’s an unexpected, yet perfect blend of cute and competitive.

A Crossover That Transcends Fandoms

The collaboration between the Las Vegas Raiders and Hello Kitty is a prime example of how sports and pop culture can collide in brilliant ways. For Raiders fans, this jersey is a chance to represent their team in a fun, fresh way that breaks the mold of traditional sports apparel. It’s the perfect way to show team spirit while also expressing a playful side that’s often missing in the more serious realm of football.

At the same time, this jersey appeals to Hello Kitty fans who may not be as familiar with football but love the idea of their favorite character joining forces with a major NFL team. This collaboration bridges the gap between two very different worlds, showing that fandoms don’t have to be exclusive — you can love both the rough-and-tumble world of football and the cheerful, colorful universe of Hello Kitty.

It’s also worth noting that this crossover is more than just about aesthetics. It represents the evolving nature of sports culture, where inclusivity and crossover appeal are becoming more important. It encourages fans to embrace different aspects of pop culture and shows that sports aren’t just about competition — they’re also about community and fun.

Comfort and Durability: Built for Fans

While the design is undoubtedly the most eye-catching aspect of the Las Vegas Raiders x Hello Kitty 2024 Baseball Jersey, the quality and craftsmanship of the jersey itself should not be overlooked. Manufactured by Nike, fans can expect nothing but the best in terms of durability, comfort, and performance.

The lightweight fabric ensures that the jersey is breathable, making it perfect for game days, tailgating, or casual outings. The soft material allows for all-day comfort, whether you’re sitting through four quarters of football or wearing it around town. The button-up front gives it a classic baseball jersey look while ensuring ease of wear and versatility in styling.

The fit is relaxed and suitable for all body types, with plenty of room to layer underneath or wear on its own. Additionally, the high-quality stitching and embroidery mean that this jersey will stand up to repeated wear and washing, with the logos and designs remaining intact and vibrant for seasons to come.

A Must-Have Collector’s Item

For those who love collecting limited-edition merchandise, the Las Vegas Raiders x Hello Kitty 2024 Baseball Jersey is a dream come true. It’s not every day you see such a bold and creative crossover, and fans of both the Raiders and Hello Kitty will appreciate the novelty and uniqueness of this jersey.

Its limited-edition status makes it a true collectible, one that will only become more coveted as time goes on. Whether you’re wearing it to a game, framing it in your collection, or gifting it to a fellow fan, this jersey is sure to become a conversation starter.

A Perfect Gift for All Ages

Looking for a gift that will delight both Raiders fans and Hello Kitty lovers? This jersey is an excellent choice for people of all ages, from children who adore Hello Kitty to adults who’ve been die-hard Raiders supporters for years. The playful design ensures that it appeals to a broad audience, and the high-quality construction guarantees that it will be appreciated as both a fashion item and a sports collectible.

Whether for birthdays, holidays, or game day surprises, this jersey is sure to bring smiles and excitement to whoever receives it.

Conclusion: A Bold Collaboration for 2024

The Las Vegas Raiders x Hello Kitty 2024 Baseball Jersey is a stunning example of how sports and pop culture can come together to create something truly unique. With its bold pink color, playful Hello Kitty details, and the iconic Raiders branding, this jersey is a must-have for fans who love to stand out and celebrate their team in style.

Its high-quality construction ensures that it’s not only fashionable but also comfortable and durable, making it perfect for wearing on game days, casual outings, or as a standout piece in any fan’s collection.

Get ready to represent your team with a little extra flair — whether you’re a Raider Nation loyalist or a Hello Kitty fan, this jersey is for you.

[mrfancyfoot]

Had to be put under for a minor surgery that I didn't know was general ana and a bigger deal until, like, right before it (recap: I'm in the ER stiiiill). Prior to said surgery, I warned the surgery prep and anesthesia teams (literally like 3x and this is the same place I've had all of my other surgeries where the exact same thing has happened each time) that I have some known extreme reactions when waking up (notably temporary full body paralysis that includes my ability to talk and extreme light sensitivity - informed them would be best if I woke up in a dim area/room and allowed to adjust to lighting). A quick scan to the Google says that these side effects are very well known. I have a long history of sleep paralysis, so that alone does not bother me.

I come to, predictably with the paralysis and photosensitivity, and immediately start having a panic attack because I'm under one of those bright overhead exam lights and it feels like my brain is imploding under the overwhelming stimulus. Despite just "waking up" I am fully cognizant and aware. I can't move anything but my left hand and my head from side to side (sort of). While I'm attempting to bury my face in my shoulder, I'm trying desperately to tell the tech what's wrong (I kept trying to say the word "light" as well as I could; I was snapping with my left hand and pointing up, and even fucking using ASL to literally spell "Light," and all he can think to ask is, "You have to tell us what's wrong." "You have to use your words, sweetie!" over and over.

He gets very obviously frustrated (tone, scoffing) and gives me something through my IV to "calm me down" but ends up giving too much and knocks me back out and the last thing I hear are inappropriate comments made with someone else and their laughter.

There is hardly anything scarier than being fully cognizant and trapped in your own body undergoing trauma. I was absolutely furious and felt humiliated.

His official notes from the incident state that I was crying and "mumbling and grumbling" and not coherent. They automatically assumed that I was just making a big deal of the pain from the operation (I had 0 pain from that at all at the time).

I was eventually moved back up to my room at some point. The moment I could talk again, I asked to file an official complaint. My normal care team at my room knew what was up b/c I warned them ahead of time- they were amazingly understanding and considerate and went out of their way to help me. A lovely patient representative comes up a bit later and takes my statement with her own barely hidden growing ire.

I'm not personally looking for anything but they need some process improvement (why on earth is this not documented in my file???<--except this, I HAVE requested this AGAIN), better patient empathy, and that tech needs to work on his damn bedside manner.

A whole team of people decided that what I had painstakingly reported ahead of time wasn't worth taking seriously. At least one tech is likely making inappropriate comments when he believes that the patient under his care is "incoherent."

In contrast, as I was waking up from my hysterectomy surgery here less than a year ago, I was in a very dimly lit room, the nurses worked with me to very gradually brighten the lights, and communicated in yes/no questions I could move my head to answer until I was able to form words and sentences again. I also reported this to the patient rep as THAT is what quality care looks like and clearly showed that the hospital is capable of it.

Always self-advocate. I came here with some major impostor syndrome ("It's not so bad that I need to go to the ER and potentially take a bed from someone else.") and was told that I had 1000% made the best decision due to the severity and type of symptoms. I was almost immediately admitted into triage and then the emergency in-patient wing.

And tattle on care workers who need to be better. Most hospitals will have patient resources and representatives that you can ask to speak to and contact. If you're lucky, it may lead to better quality of care if you're stuck there and being cared for by some dolt. Even if you never have to see them again, their behavior may be addressed and save the next person.

[bandaigaeru]

song of the summer - bang chan

→pairing: ceo bang chan x gn reader

→genre: kinda strangers to lovers

→synopsis: he runs one of the biggest music companies in the country, yet he inducts you to help aid him and his friends, each of them deemed as representatives of the ‘big three’, for their next official comeback.

→word count: 12.5k

→ warnings: swearing, shitty father figure

i.

A single question hangs over the dim conference room you’ve somehow scored a seat in. Does the general public want to see 3Racha? Bluntly, the answer is right in front of you. Glowing against the whiteboard from the overhead projector, the carefully curated slideshow answers the rhetorical question.

One of the dance representatives from the back of the room twirls his pen between his fingers. Leaning back in his chair, he apathetically wonders aloud, “So it’s true, then?”

“What’s that, Mr. Lee?” the marketing representative, a Mr. Choi, holds his remote between both hands as he leans toward the table. The word ‘full’ dances across his face as he steps in front of the projector’s path.

“That they’re making a comeback. A full one?”

Mr. Choi nods, scanning the rest of the patrons’ reactions with squinted eyes as he says, “That would be correct.”

Of course, the three who would walk onstage and perform aren’t here. Mr. Bang is probably running around, abiding by his role as the professional CEO who never skips a beat. Regarding the other two, you’re not sure. They’re not as predictable.

The project is pretty tight in terms of what needs to be met. Summer is around the corner, and everyone and their mother will be fighting to hold that mere title of having the temporary greatest hit. When the general public awaits their yearly easily digestible, flowery songs.

“Keep in mind that we are all under Bang! Entertainment,” Choi remarks, clicking to his next slide displaying headlines questioning the company’s next move. “It should go without saying, but all eyes will be on us as the season turns.”

You stare at the bolded words, trying to digest each of them. Joining the company was likely the best decision you’ve ever made, outside of adopting a cat named Loba. When you got scouted as a producer, you were under a different company. Bang! offered a contract, but didn’t require an interview because they ‘didn’t want to invalidate or question a talent they’ve already seen.’

It was an ego boost.

“I’m sure you all know what your roles are in this,” Choi says, taking glances around the room to make sure each face isn’t lost or distant. This is 3Racha we’re talking about. Everything must be perfect.

You take a glance of your own. A few belong to the dance department, some to hair and makeup; however, you are the only producer here.

You raise a low hand to garner Mr. Choi’s attention. “Why am I here?” you subsequently ask, dropping your hand and crossing it against your chest as before.

“The team personally requested you,” he says.

Connections, you instantly understand. In a place like this, in a time like this, they’re a necessity. Nepotism is practically required in the world of music, hence why it sucks for most aspiring indie artists. You didn’t choose to befriend a guy who happens to be best friends with one of the big three here. So, you cast a blind eye.

It’s all a game of luck.

The meeting doesn’t run much longer. A concluding statement with hints of a threat if anyone messes up rings through your ears. A project end date of July 20th, when the album is supposed to go live. You’re not nervous, per se. Simply blindsided given the lack of information. What’s the song about? When’s the due date? Will 3Racha come to you first, or do you have to take time out of your day to the CEO’s harrowing office? The uncertainties aggravate the impulse of opening a new document on your computer and delving into your producer rituals. You can’t create someone else’s project out of blankness. And that irritates you to no end.

Someone throws their arm around your shoulder in an attempt to throw you off your purposeful stride.

“Congrats,” the belonger says.

You glance over to look, even though you know the voice well. He is your connection, of course.

“Thanks.”

Minho pulls you back to a slower pace. Familiar faces from the meeting pass you to the elevator, a majority in a meaningless chatter. They expected an appearance on this project.

“What are you doing tonight?” he finally asks, stopping altogether and dropping his arm from your shoulder.

You shrug, looking curiously at him. Minho’s not one to beat around the bush.

“Hypothetically,” he starts, “how would you feel being invited to bro night?”

“And actually witness you or Felix puke on the lawn instead of hearing about it? No thanks,” you scoff, making an attempt to abandon the situation by following the distancing crowd.

He grabs your wrist, spinning you back to him. “Please?” His eyes are pleading, glaring back at you like an innocent kitten.

You tip your head and sigh. “Why?”

Instead of cutting to the chase, he sucks in a deep breath and says, “I’ll pay you.”

An eyebrow cocks. Regardless of your amusement—a desperate Minho doesn’t appear often—worries consume you. “What’s up? Why are you acting like this?”

Wary eyes jump around the hallway before they land back on you. “Follow me,” he mumbles.

His steps are calculated as he guides you to the elevator and presses the floor his office resides on. The ride is silent, as is the walk down the hall. You step into the room first, and he closes the door behind him. Despite the urge to ask if he’s about to murder you, you bite your tongue and take a seat on his upholstered couch. Identical to the one in your office.

Gently, he lowers himself into his chair. A few minutes pass of you simply staring at each other. Nerves crawl up your spine and you disguise them with a snarky comment. “Are you going to tell me why you’re willing to bribe me into spending time with your friends?”

In the time he takes to respond, you think about how the only mutual friend you have is Jisung. Sure, you know everyone on a name basis; but it’s not like you’ve known them as long as Minho. He doesn’t have other, more qualified, friends to drag to bro night?

“Chan’s kinda in a mood right now,” Minho’s words are slurred by the breath he releases as he speaks.

“And?” you press.

“I want you to see it before you work with him. And for him to understand you in advance. Y’know. You’re a little,” he hesitates, “forward sometimes.”

You should take this as an insult, but you can’t because words’ owner knows you too well. Minho never speaks unjustly.

“Touche,” you nod. It’s better to own up to your flaws. If you don’t, that’s how you end up walking into a carefully curated narcissistic personality.

His features loosen as he presses his forearms on his thighs. “So. You in?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you emit a wry laugh. All in one sentence, you’ve managed to prove his point. It’s simple, really.

“You see, I’ve already told the boys you’re coming. Either way, I would’ve gotten you to go. The only other option would have been to threaten you with a knife,” he admits. As you gawk at him in awe, realizing you stand in the same boat, a proud grin grows on his face. With time, you begin to mirror the ones you admire. Friends, for example.

“I think Seungmin will like you,” he adds.

“Why do you say that?”

All you know of Kim Seungmin is that he’s in the vocal department, along with his younger counterpart Yang Jeongin, and that he’s a menace. Minho’s words.

“You’re both evil.”

That’s the last straw. You stand up without a word and stomp for the door.

His laugh echoes behind you, striking a quieter one of your own. Still, you stay in character and slip out into the hallway. Minho has won too many of these scenarios.

ii.

Loba sneaks into the kitchen as you wait impatiently for Minho. Thirty minutes. That’s how late he is. You consider texting him, but acknowledge the possibility he’s stuck in traffic or something. Agitation tells you to do it anyway since he only lives two blocks over.

The orange cat paws at your calf for attention, momentarily distracting you as you set your phone down on the counter. Minho’s chat is wide open. She, too, finds excuses for him.

Her head nuzzles against your palm as you scratch behind her ears. She meddles successfully enough to trick you into feeding her a few treats. While you reach for the top shelf of your pantry, a pair of footsteps sneak up behind you. Heavier than Loba’s.

“Did the cat convince you to spoil her again?”

“Son of a-” you recoil, whirling around to greet the man, the myth, the late bastard.

The familiar appearance of a sly smirk, mischievous eyes, and an outfit that makes him look like a casual runway model, pierce your vision.

“You’re late,” you mutter, stepping past him and scooping Loba up. You rest her head on your left arm, cradling her like a baby. She tilts her head up to stare back at Minho. Traitor.

Minho grabs the bag of treats for you.

“Sorry, I had to pick up Jisung. He’s in the car,” his voice trails as he slips his thumbs between the plastic fold and focuses on opening the difficult seal.

“Damn it,” he curses. Karma arrives faster in deserving situations.

“It took you thirty extra minutes to pick him up?”

He deadpans, “You know he likes to be presentable for the boys.”

When you don’t give him the satisfaction of a single laugh, let alone a change in emotion, he whines, “Oh come on, that was funny.”

“You trick me into going to your stupid hangout, and now you have the nerve to show up late?”

He sneaks a few treats to Loba. “You’re really not mad at me right now, are you?”

“Irritated, at the least,” you admit.

“Well, then I’m sorry. Jisung got off late so I had to wait at Bang! for him.”

The words sink into your skin, but you don’t acknowledge them further. The anger fades on the walk down to the car, a great distance separating you and Minho. It’s practically dissipated by the time you climb into the backseat of Minho’s Kia Soul.

Jisung turns in the front seat and offers his hand at an awkward angle. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

You hold your seatbelt in one hand, accepting his with the other as you force a measly smile. “Same for you. Thanks for suggesting me to Mr. Bang.”

Confusion warps his face, twisting his eyebrows in a weird knit as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t me. Must’ve been Chan.”

Minho drops himself into the driver’s seat, suspending any further questioning.

Jisung returns to his original poise as when you approached the car. Eyes focused on his phone, actively typing something out.

You click your seatbelt into locking. An unnatural feeling plagues your gut. Mr. Bang wanted you on the team? It feels unlikely, but you know Jisung wouldn’t joke like that. Even if he were the type, his acting of unawareness gives away the truth.

Minho glances back at you in the mirror. “Ready?” he asks as his hand rests on the gearshift.

You press your lips into a line as you nod. “Mhm.”

You stare down at your hands carefully folded in your lap. For the first time since before producing, the itch to create is drowned by an intense, overwhelming brew of something lingering in your veins.

The expectation of you has pierced through the roof and is shooting out of the stratosphere.

Chan—Jisung quickly advised you to drop all formalities, so you’re rewiring your thoughts—has a home in Gangnam. Fitting for his status, but smaller than you expected. It’s still able to fit at least four of your apartment in it, though.

Jisung and Minho walk ahead of you up the stairs. The elevators in rich apartments on this end can only fit two people if you really scrunch together. What’s the money for, then?

“Today’s Monopoly night, right?” Jisung examines Minho’s side profile as he cautiously lifts one foot after the other. The stairs here are steeper than any you’ve seen. Hiking sounds better than this.

He hums in approval. “I guess we’ll sort teams later. We probably won’t live through the night with last week’s.”

A brash laugh escapes Jisung’s lips, subsequently echoing against the walls and bouncing back to your ears. “Right.”

You tune out their conversation for the rest of the climb, settling for watching your shoelaces sway with each step.

Jisung pushes on the door for the fourth floor, holding it open until you’re fully into the hallway. “Chan’s the second door on the right,” Jisung nods to one of the identical doors along the hall—appearing more expensive than your monthly rent with its rich stain.

Minho doesn’t bother knocking, instead opting for trying the doorknob. It allows access to the gigantic living space and the loud chatter previously muffled by walls.

You must be the last to arrive, but you probably could’ve guessed such.

“Hey,” Jeongin looks up from his conversation, inspiring a round of greetings from all the others.

“You all know each other enough so I’ll skip the introductions,” Minho glances between you and the group, starting for an empty end of the couch.

When Jisung follows his lead, you take a headcount. It appears everyone’s present except Chan—his birth name still feels awkwardly informal in your thoughts. You glance down the dark hallway to your right, counting one, two, three closed doors. Nature drags you into curiosity.

Seungmin, your alleged evil twin, waves you over.

As you take the empty spot beside him, he says, “Sorry, you looked a little awkward just standing there. Thought I’d save you before Hyunjin said something.” He shoots a pointed nod at the long-haired blond lounging between Changbin and Minho.

“Oh. Thanks,” you force a little smile that imitates gratitude. You didn’t feel awkward observing, but maybe your aura screamed otherwise.

Jeongin leans slightly over Seungmin’s shoulder with an inquisitive eye. “How did Minho convince you to come?”

“Blackmail,” you nod. Not attempting to summon a laugh, but managing so in the process.

“That’s Minho for you,” Seungmin tips his head in a slightly disbelieving manner.

“It’s okay, though. We’ll make tonight fun for you,” Jeongin raises his hand, and you meet it with a high-five.

Bro night might not be as bad as you thought.

“If only Chan comes out from his room,” Seungmin mutters, particularly to himself, as he leans his arm on the back of the couch and twists his body to look back into the hallway.

Questions. You want to ask them, but then Minho’s words return in full, blaring effect. Forward, he said. Meaning: blunt. In your face.

You bite your tongue. Redirect the temptation, you think, as your eyes scan the room. Admittedly, it’s odd seeing all these people away from their respective passions. However, Changbin’s phone is cradled in his hands, and his fingers are typing away potential lyrics. Felix, too, is hiding the fact his fingers are mirroring the directions of his recent choreography. Maybe passions are always a shadow of you.

“Should we just fix teams?” Minho says above the impatient silence.

“We can,” Hyunjin leans his forearms on his thighs. His hair falls in front of his shoulders like he’s some kind of Greek god.

“Team captains?” Seungmin asks.

“Let’s do the oldest of each unit, but since Chan’s God-knows-where, Changbin can represent,” Minho nods, glancing around for looks of satisfaction.

“Sure, rock-paper-scissors for who goes first?” Seungmin pushes a strand of hair out of his eye.

Short story short, Minho wins the first round with a victorious cheer of, “Easy!”

“You only say that because you know they always pick scissors first,” you accuse.

Minho points a finger at you, “Allegedly.”

You land a spot on Minho’s team since he got the first pick of the litter. Then, by Minho’s attempt at matchmaking, Chan lands on your team.

As you’re moving spots, you shoot Seungmin a sad, unmoving look.

He laughs, pushing you towards Minho. “Maybe next time.”

“What?” Minho glances between you. “Are you planning a coup against me?”

“You wish, Lee Minho,” you sigh, falling into the empty space beside him.

After a few beats of silence, for good measure, Minho leans down to your ear and says, “I told you you’d like him.”

“Yeah, he’s like a better version of you,” you turn to see the predictable look of offense on his features.

“Fine then, get Seungmin to drive you home,” he pouts, crossing his arms against his chest and pushing his back into the couch.

“Oh come on,” you nudge his elbow, laughing at his exaggeration.

You see a smile tug at his lips before he breaks, letting a chuckle break through his barrier.

In the remaining meantime that you wait, Minho calls dibs on the cat. Seungmin’s team claims the dog, with an offhand comment from Minho going, “You would choose the dog.” Finally, Changbin’s team chooses the hat.

“Is that a joke because you’re so short? So you can gain a few inches with the hat?” Hyunjin jabs.

Changbin reaches over the couch to try and hit him.

From this end of the couch, you can look directly into the dark, mysterious hallway. You watch as the second door knob slowly turns. You focus on it, and the shouting dispute fades out in your ears.

Chan steps out from the room, carefully closing the door behind him so as to not bring all the eyes on him at once. You fight your facial expressions to remain neutral as you take in his appearance—which is shockingly normal. Suits are his workplace fashion, and consequently, all you’ve seen him in. Now, he wears black basketball shorts and a black tee. His hair is even loosening into curls. Is this the same man who runs a massive music company? Are we sure?

His cover is blown the moment he steps into the light of the living room. Jeongin warily points a finger in your direction, “You’re on their team.”

Chan presses his lips into a makeshift smile as he approaches you and Minho. He pushes out a small ‘hey’ before taking his spot on the other side of Minho.

His reclusive figure makes your heart wrench. You wish you could have talked Minho out of going. To him, you’re just an outsider he has to put a front up for. But, the thing is, he isn’t trying to build a barrier. It appears that he doesn’t have any more energy to try.

You catch yourself staring when Minho nudges your knee with his. “You take the first roll.”

Collecting the die, you notice your hands trembling a little. Not good. You manage, somehow knocking Seungmin’s dog in the process. He feigns shock, whining in an accusatory tone, “You’re no different than Minho.”

The choir of laughter shuffles you back into reality when you glance back at your accused teammate, catching the look of the other. The corners of Chan’s lips are slightly turning up into a smile.

Whew. You’re amazed by the amount of relief that little smile gives you.

iii.

The game trails into the early hours of the morning, and a few times a boy will point at Chan and say, in an attempt to be lighthearted, “This is all your fault.”

To the dismay of the rivals, Changbin’s team manages to win. Jisung, a member of Seungmin’s team, flips the board twenty turns too late at the news. “This game is stupid!” he laughs through his words.

“You’re cleaning that up,” Changbin says as the money flutters to the rug beneath the glass coffee table. A cue for the group to laugh blinks above their heads, each varying in intensity. Hyunjin even claps a few times, for his vocal contribution pales insufficient.

Jisung slumps to the ground, “I know.”

Chan lifts himself from the couch to aid him with a lingering smile from all the laughs. As the night progressed, he seemed to slowly inch into his ‘normal’ state, as Jisung had referred to in the car.

Minho slips his phone out from his pocket. At the single-digit time, nearing close to sunrise, he heaves a sigh and pushes himself up. “Guess I should get you home.”

He extends a hand to help you up.

“You’re leaving already?” Seungmin asks.

“Uh, yeah. It’s like three A.M.,” Minho squints at him, turning his lit home screen at him for proof.

Chan snickers as he stacks all the thousands. “That’s early for me.”

See? He’s even making jokes now. This is a weird normal, considering all you know of him is his status, but admittedly better than whatever funk he was previously in.

“See you on Monday, I’ll just spend the night,” Jisung lifts his hand in a semi-wave.

Chan doesn’t protest. Instead, he looks up at you and sticks his hand up. “Can’t wait to work with you,” and smiles. Dimples indent his cheeks in a way that makes your stomach churn.

You take his hand and mirror his smile, though it’s rather genuine in comparison to the one you offered Jisung.

Minho has the decency to wait to call you out on it until you’re in the soundproof safety of his car.

“I saw that,” he says.

“What?”

“The smile. Don’t like Chan. That’d be way too awkward for me.”

You laugh, examining his twisted face of disgust as he starts the car. “Why?”

You’re not asking out of curiosity. You don’t like Chan, and you don’t see yourself liking him anytime soon. Or in the far future, for that matter. It’s just so easy to mess with Minho.

“Uh, my best friend dating my other best friend? That’s third-wheel central. I’m too hot to be a third wheel.”

Later, as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt to venture into the apartment building, Minho mumbles, “But, I mean, if you like him it’s whatever. I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide anything from me.”

You punch his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re getting all sappy on me again. You don’t have to worry about stuff like that, dude,” you frown. Above anything Minho can say to you, his insecurities taking over his words hurts the most.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say, then adding, “Unless you want to come over sometime this weekend. I’ll be home.”

He smiles, though you sense the differing thoughts behind his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say before shutting the door.

iv.

In all the wrong ways, Monday comes too fast. Faster than you can process Friday night, essentially.

You try to scramble your remaining thoughts into order as you walk into the lobby.

Is Chan going to be normal today? Hoping so. Why was that relief so astonishing? Did Minho catch onto something-

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung intercepts your thoughts.

Your eyes involuntarily widen as he pops out from seemingly nowhere. Your gaze drifts to his outstretched hands, offering you one of the drinks each brandishes.

“I didn’t know which you’d prefer, and Minho wasn’t awake so I couldn’t text him. So, I got coffee and tea.”

You take your pick and nod a ‘thank you.’

“How was your weekend?” you find yourself asking as he leads you to the elevator.

He shrugs, “I did absolutely nothing other than a brain detox for this project. You?”

Despite his back being to you, your chin twitches into a nod. “Same as you, pretty much.”

“I think Chan’s in a good enough mood,” Jisung glances back at you as he reaches for the up arrow on the elevator’s panel.

“Sweet.”

Minho is your gateway to an easy conversation. Of course, he’s not here, but you slightly wish he was. You’re forced to meander in an abrasive silence until the elevator takes you up to the eighth floor.

Eight, because Chan detests the idea of being too close to anyone. He doesn’t want his presence to divide anyone’s attempt at creating their best. An icon in distancing, Minho joked as during your first week under Bang!

Jisung sucks in a deep breath as he turns into a room whose door is partially cracked. “Here goes nothing.”

On the far side of the room is an L-shaped couch. Resting upon the vertical side as if he were in his own bed is Changbin. A laptop sits in his lap, closed, but his phone is inches away from his face as he types.

“It’d be more effective if you used that laptop,” Jisung comments, resting his drink on the coffee table and sitting by Changbin’s feet. Giving Changbin the perfect opportunity to wedge his foot between the younger’s ribcage. A cry of pain shoots out of Jisung’s mouth. Truly, he should have seen that coming.

“Dude!” he shouts, jumping to his feet and clutching his side.

“I told you not to mess with me,” Changbin’s eyes narrow into a warning gaze, but Jisung laughs anyway.

“You are not scary, bro.”

You start for the opposite end of the couch, pressing your back into the armrest as you watch the scene unfold. Cupping your drink with both hands, you’re unsure if the warmth stems from it or the sibling-esque fight before you.

Changbin slides the laptop off of his lap and pulls himself to his feet. He stands before Jisung, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Then, as his eyes flutter open, he brings his fists up.

“Come on. Fight me.”

Jisung takes a step back. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Changbin shakes his head. “I’m not.”

Jisung’s eyes flit around the room for help. It would be that when the muscle man wants to fight, the only person physically capable of pacifying him isn’t here. Pure, unadulterated luck.

“And when you break my arm, then what?” Jisung’s eyebrows raise in taunting interrogation.

“Then I break your arm? What about it? You can perform with a shattered humerus. Right, ace?”

By chance of a higher being granting Han Jisung a break, Chan enters his office with a manila folder in his hand. Only a few steps into the room, he has to halt. His hand finds his hip, releasing a big sigh as he clutches the folder. To no surprise, he’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Black, of course. But with a surprising navy undershirt, which you give him credit for.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to cause injury in my office? Can you imagine the lawsuit? Would you do that to your beloved friend?” he asks a stream of questions.

He seems relatively happy.

Changbin drops his fists to his sides, gaze dropping back to his abandoned laptop. He scoops it up before reclaiming his spot. To fully conclude the argument, he opens the laptop’s lid. “Jisung started it.”

The accused boy looks at Chan and silently pleads his case. His hands clasp into a prayer.

Chan waves him off with a smile and a breathy laugh before starting for his desk. He acknowledges you with a small raise of his hand.

“Ah, where to begin?” he asks, to no one in particular, as he tosses the folder onto his desk and sinks into his chair.

“Han, can you turn the projector on?” Changbin takes the initiative, reaching over the couch’s back to grab a white USB cord.

He does as told, warily trying to avoid another pseudo-fight, before rushing to the light switch and fading the room into a mass of darkness. Chan must not like having his blinds open. Black world he lives in.

Changbin’s screen presents against the vacant wall across from him. A pre-written document appears, with the title ‘TT Ideas’ and a dashed list. 1.5 spacing, you admire.

“Okay, I did my homework,” he sighs, dragging his cursor over the highlighted ideas for the title track. “These are my personal favorites, but I’m up to debate.”

Jisung shivers at those words. Debate. Meaning: duel.

In the darkness, Chan steps in front of you. He sits halfway between you and Changbin, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies the list. You notice that his lips pout as he focuses, and his eyes squint a little.

You shift your own attention, for you’ll lose pacing if you stare at Chan the whole day. Changbin has highlighted unrequited love, turning the aura of summer into a song, unique abilities, and simply ‘flexing our equities’.

“Yeah, I definitely think that last one will go over well,” Jisung sardonically comments.

Changbin sighs in defeat and drags his cursor over his beloved idea, hitting the backspace in pity, “I knew you’d say that.”

“Can you elaborate on the unique abilities?” you ask, quieter than anticipated but still reaching its aim.

“Not to tute my own horn,” Changbin starts, running a hand through his hair, “but we’re sought after. When people see our names on tracklists, they immediately know the song is going to be good. They don’t sit and wonder if they’ll be disappointed, because they know with 3Racha that’s unpalatable. Hell, I saw someone tweet the other day that their favorite artist was spotted here, and the fandom went fucking crazy.

“People know what they expect from us, and that’s excellence. We deliver. You can’t say the same for a lot of producers. Doubt is inevitable for a lot of them, even if it’s only personal.”

“Couldn’t have said it better,” Jisung smirks, leaning his extended hand out to Changbin for him to high-five.

“What if we did it with an,” Chan hesitates, tilting his head at the screen to try and ease out the right words, “unnatural sound.”

“An experiment no one else could attempt,” you mumble, not expecting him to hear. His head snaps over to you, snapping, pointing a finger, and nodding.

“Exactly.”

The boys look between each other, bobbing their heads in agreement. “We can do that,” Jisung grins.

“You know, I had a feeling you would say that,” Changbin slips his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it and opening his notes app. “So I’ve already written my verse.”

“No way,” Jisung cocks his head at him.

“Okay,” Changbin mutters, “I had verses written for all the highlighted ones.”

“You are insane,” Chan chuckles, but not in an insulting tone.

From here on out, it’s smooth sailing.

v.

Until Jisung pats the pockets of his jeans two weeks later. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing back at the elevator you had just come from.

Midnight was around the corner and Jisung had promised Minho they’d go see the late-night showing of the latest horror film.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He turns to you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “I think I left my phone in Chan’s room. I’m gonna be late. Minho’s gonna kill me.”

You cease his rambling by putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go get it. Just tell Minho to text me when you’re done so you can pick it up. ‘Kay?”

So what if Loba’s waiting for you at home, probably pawing at the front door and meowing like, “I’m hungry”? You have a profound soft spot for Jisung. And not because Minho threatened you if you ever showed any disliking. Plus, Loba’s spoiled in all other walks of her life. She can handle you coming home a little later than usual for one night.

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at the high ceiling in some kind of grateful manner. “You are a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smile, starting back to the elevator as he continues his path.

The company is rather unsettling without its daytime bustle. It’s even worse on the eighth floor. A usual ghost-town, except with an increased darkness and an odd chill trailing down your back.

The hallways feel stuffy as you get close to Chan’s office, your gaze set ahead. A sniffling sound seeps into your range of hearing, though you don’t think much of it. You can get colds in summer.

Naive to think a man as esteemed as Mr. Bang would succumb to a measly cold.

As you sneak your head between the cracked door, placing your hand around its width and slightly pushing forward, the view sends your heart crashing into your stomach. Chan’s head is lowered, either hand cupping his head as incessant tears drip from his nose.

Awkwardly stepping forward, you clear your throat.

His glossy eyes, rimmed with red and slightly puffy, jump up to you. Instinctively, he attempts to discard the evidence.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he croaks, pulling his sleeve over his hand and gliding it across his damp cheek.

That’s something he could learn. If someone’s a witness, you can expect them to ease into questions. It’s only nature.

“Do you need a hug?” you attempt. Don’t be forward, don’t be blunt, don’t be mean. Minho’s reminder blinks across your vision.

He laughs, “Maybe.”

A pitiful smile creeps onto your lips as you step around the desk. Your arms link semi-awkwardly around his shoulders. He presses his cheek against your collarbone, silently crying a little. You take careful breaths, trying to stabilize your chest for him.

“Does anyone know?” Your hand rubs soft circles against his back. He shakes his head against your body. A small hiccup shakes his frame.

“You can tell me if you want.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” he manages through his tears.

You pull back a little for him to look at you. “I will smack sense into you if you say some stupid shit like that again.” In spite of his eyes crinkling into a smile—looking at you like you’re a childhood friend who he knows like the back of his hand—you try to recover. “I swear, you won’t burden me.”

He takes in a shaky breath. A blaring thought curses the forefront of your eyes. “Do you mind if we go to my apartment, though? I have a hungry cat waiting for me.”

Your arms retreat to your sides as he nods and drags the back of his hand across either cheek. “Yeah, no problem.”

You glance over at the couch, and the object of your mission stares back at you. For a second, you swear it’s glowing gold and screaming, “Your quest ends here! Bring me to my owner!”

You shuffle for the couch and scoop it up. When Chan looks at your hand in confusion, you offer, “Jisung left it. I’m the delivery service.”

“Right.” And he smiles. Comfort engulfs your body when you notice the flood has stopped.

Since you normally walk or ride the bus to work, Chan drives. His shiny sports car looks rather alien beside your used, well-used, car.

“I should warn you,” you turn to him as you push your key into the lock, “Loba’s a cuddler.”

“Sweet. I’d feel bad asking you for more hugs,” he jokes.

Sure enough, Loba is lying before the door. She scrambles to her feet and stares up at her guardian and the new intruder. Conveniently misplacing her cries for food, she scopes out the new man.

“What’d you say her name was again?” Chan asks, squatting in front of her and scratching behind her ears.

“Loba,” you say, opening the fridge to dish out Loba’s expensive special food. Adopting a cat with stomach issues, am I right?

“Loba?” Chan repeats, stifling a laugh.

“I didn’t name her,” you turn to him in defense.

Chan lowers himself, crossing his legs as Loba climbs into his lap. The love-hungry cat doesn’t even notice when you set her ceramic bowl next to her water station. She’s too absorbed in her newfound friend.

Rather than forcing them to relocate to the couch, you sit offset from them on the tile. Smiling down at the orange cat, you admit, “She’s not even like this with Minho.”

“Really?” Chan’s amused face stuns a vibration in your chest.

You appeal confirmation.

“That’s crazy. I’m a dog person, normally,” he coos down at the lovebug.

Don’t let this distract you from the task at hand, you remind yourself.

“So,” you drag. How do you say this without tempting the tears again? Admittedly, it would be nice if you had an ounce of insight. You’re walking into a minefield without a blueprint of where they lie.

Chan sighs, acknowledging his cue. “My dad doesn’t really like me all too much,” he wryly laughs.

“He seems stupid then,” you offer, not thinking further than trying to comfort him, “You’re very likable.”

“Thank you,” Chan drags his tongue against his bottom lip.

He continues, “Moreso, he dislikes his father. The one who skipped a generation when trying to continue his legacy. By association, I kind of take the brunt of it.” He looks at you through blurry eyes as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you were the only person who could have continued the company. Your dad seems,” you hesitate, “insolent. You, on the other hand, are an ace.”

“I try to tell myself that. He makes me go to all of his business parties to keep his reputation up, as well as mine in a way. You don’t want the broken family running a huge corporation,” he mimics what he’s been told.

“So you can’t tune him out,” you echo.

“Yep,” he drags the word out, prompting a heavy sigh.

“I’m not really good at the whole comforting thing,” you study the creases of your palms. “But I’ll say that you are, by far, the most amazing person I could work for. You’re really admirable. Plus, Minho really likes you. You’re kind of like the brother he never had.”

“God, you’re gonna make me cry,” he laughs, staring up at the light as he pulls a hand away from Loba to wipe at his waterline.

“I’m serious,” you chuckle. “Would I blow smoke up your ass if you’re crying on my floor with my cat in your arms?”

When he hesitates to respond, you do it for him. “The answer is no. I don’t even do that for Minho.”

“That’s comforting,” he admits.

“I’d hope so. Now, hand me your phone,” you stick your hand out.

“Why?”

“So I can give you my number. Text me if stuff goes downhill, now that I’m in the loop.”

He looks at you quizzically.

“What? Do you think I’m going to let you suffer in silence now that I know?”

He leans to the side, cradling Loba protectively, as he draws his phone from his pocket. Unlocking it before he hands it to you.

As you type in a new contact, you say, “Do you want something to eat? I can order a pizza.”

vi.

Unfortunately, peace is temporary. Always and forever.

When you enter Chan’s office a few weeks after the father debacle, prepared to start the official recording of the album as decided on the previous day, you’re met with two confused men. Admittedly, you’re a little late, but not enough for them to be lost.

Changbin looks up at you as you cross the threshold. “Have you seen Chan?”

You shake your head.

“Heard from him?” Jisung follows.

Again, you shake your head.

“Shit,” they both fall back against the couch cushions in defeat.

“What’s wrong?” The grip on your bag tightens. Despite your inquisitive words, your gut gives you a fair answer.

“We haven’t heard from him since five this morning,” Changbin looks at Jisung for confirmation on the details.

“No one’s seen him?” you follow up.

“No one. He won’t answer our group chat either.”

Your foot taps against the floor as you try to remain composed. He texted you last night about his dad’s upcoming gala but was sparse about details. Or about the fact he would straight up disappear. Obviously, you can’t offer this information to them. A promise is a promise, even if half unspoken.

“Should we work through it? Get his parts whenever he decides to show up?” Changbin speaks.

“We can’t exactly meander anymore. Tracklist goes out at noon,” Jisung shakes his phone as annoyingly clear evidence.

“And you still need to learn the choreo for the title track,” you add. There’s only a month left. You bite your tongue, allowing the pain to slightly calm you down.

“God, what horrible timing,” Jisung laughs, but no joy laces through his tone.

You point harsh eyes at them, heavy steps leading you to the microphone stand designated for recording. “Come on then. Let’s get ahead before we can fall behind.”

vii.

You leave work the moment recording is done for the day, a discovery pulling you from focusing on anything else. Chan shared his location with you a few days ago when he offered a reciprocal to what you’ve done for him. “So you can always find me,” he said via text.

Though not for the right purpose, per se, you’re going to find him. And when you do, you might have to smack sense into him this time. With love, you convince yourself as you pull up to the stadium.

Who in their right mind rents an indoor stadium for an evening party? Rich people, evidently.

You find Chan’s car, among its shiny counterparts, and park as close to it as you can. As you get out, you pull your phone out of your pocket and call him. Not expecting him to answer, honestly.

“Hello?” his voice penetrates your ears.

“I’m outside,” you say, fighting the heavy heartbeat echoing in your head. Your hands tremble at the thought of him here, all dressed up and acting like nothing’s wrong.

“What?” he mumbles.

You look up to the big screen above the gate. “Gangnam Public Stadium, right?”

The background noise slightly fades as he says, “Wait where you are, I’ll come meet you.”

“Parking lot,” you offer before he hangs up.

You step into the shade and lean against a brick wall.

Today’s one of the finer days of summer. It’s mid-June. The solstice is just around the corner. A light breeze brushes against your skin and gently ruffles your hair. It probably helps that you’re surrounded by wealthy cars. A mood booster, in a weird way.

Quick, heavy steps draw closer. You turn your head to the source.

Chan drops his hands onto his knees as he pants. “You shouldn’t be here,” he manages.

“You should’ve told someone why you wouldn’t be at work. We all have our regrets,” you nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare at him.

“God,” he mutters, straightening himself before standing next to you against the wall.

“You’ll get your suit dirty,” you comment, but he doesn’t care.

“You should leave.” His eyes, heavy with an emotion akin to irritation and sadness, scan over your face.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you did this,” you stand your ground. Just like Minho would hate in a moment like this. “To get to a person, you have to ease them into it,” he guided at one point. Frankly, you couldn’t care less right now.

He avoids your eyes as he tries to flatten his staggered breathing. In due time, he composes himself and finally looks at you. His features have loosened, and you note his brow is no longer creased.

“I didn’t want to lose my cool in front of them,” he admits.

“Scared to?”

He nods. “It was scary enough having one person see me cry.”

The place between your heart and ribs begins to pulsate heat.It begins to spread across your bones and through your muscles. For once, you have to think about what to say next. You can’t be mad at him, for his reasoning makes more sense than it had before. God, this is irritating.

“Let’s make the song of the summer, then,” you reassure him with a curt nod. “Pull you out of this monster field around you and let’s make history.”

The dark surrounding encasing him cracks away as an unbelievable smile finds its place. One like you have never seen. One that pierces your heart with its joy. “Let’s do it.” And he drags you into a hug. Despite the roles taking a quick turn, you feel comforted. But he’s squeezing the life out of you.

viii.

You’ve done all you can do for 3Racha within the next week. The album is complete, as far as instrumentals and lyrics. All that’s left is promotion, along with all the theatrical elements left to be discussed. But that’s separate from you.

It feels bittersweet that it’s come to an end. You know that sometime in the future you’ll return to the studio with them, working alongside creative geniuses to invent a piece. Together. That’s the key. But it feels so far away.

You sit in your empty office, staring at the broad window as raindrops fall down the glass. Recounting the process in your head with distant gratitude. Title track: God’s Menu. You’re proud of it, viewing it as your child. Watching it grow into a real song, with real words and sounds attached to it. Wow. You catch a glimpse at the meaning of life as you watch two raindrops race down. It’s this: blossoming art from a tiny idea. Admittedly not entirely your own, but the principle remains.

The other tracks enlist an equal amount of precious memories for you. Late nights felt normal with the unreal energy coursing through your veins. You notice the products of effort as you consider all those extra hours. Admiration shoots through your body, leaving it numb.

It was all them, though, you acknowledge. You were only there as a caretaker, offering your own hint to mark the music.

3Racha is like a shooting star. It's fantastic, in a sense. Not everyone can say they’ve seen a shooting star in the same way not many can say they’ve witnessed the production process with three of the most talented producers in the game. They’re unreal.

A knock against your doorframe shocks you out of your thoughts. You drag your foot against the floor to turn your chair.

Chan, dressed in an outfit similar to that of boys’ night, awaits your attention. Sweat lines his forehead, glistening his skin. You can guess where he’s been.

“Hey.”

“I need your help.” His words were trailing your simple greeting so close you could say he interrupted you. Seriousness brings his face into a dimness, slightly intimidating you.

“With?” you prompt.

He leans against the frame with his arm, replaying his words in his head over and over before spitting them out, “I kind of told my dad I’d bring a date to his next party.”

“Oh?” you say, slowly realizing. “Oh.”

“Will you do it?” His features twist into a nervous reflection.

“Sure, if you pay for my outfit.”

You say this as a joke, but he fails to convey it this way. “Deal. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Does Loba need a cat tree by any chance?”

He doesn’t await your answer as he slips back into the hall. Was that conversation even real?

An indistinguishable whiplash conquers your body into a sudden realization. You turn to your desk, scooping your phone into your hands and texting Minho, beginning with, “When you see this…”

ix.

Certainly, Chan is a man of his word. From the mere month you’ve known him, you should have gathered this. But as you stand in his living room, decked out in some outfit he carefully chose for you, it blares against all of your senses in bright, evident clarity.

Minho’s message buzzes against your palm.

Lee Knows: Loba’s conked already, two minutes after she ate. Have fun ;)

You: Lol thanks again for taking care of her.

Lee Knows: Of course. Anything for my bestest friend in the world. Now, a night of yearning!

The only way to describe this feeling rooted in the base of your stomach are the words: raw emotion. It’s a cluster. Jitters mixed with a blend of uncertainty and a weird elation? To be fair, you are about to lie your way through expensive drinks and hors d’oeuvres. What even are those?

Regardless, one thing is certain. Minho was right. It’s...discouraging to admit. Frankly, you’d ignore it for as long as possible if you could. But adoration is difficult. In your face. Forward, some would refer to it as.

God, this is all Minho’s fault.

“Ready?” Chan’s shoes click against the hardwood as he departs from his dark hole of a room. He looks stunning, though his attire isn’t much different from his office wear. A small sign of rebellion appears in his appearance, which ignites a flame in your chest.

Chan brings a hand to where your eyes are burning a whole into—his hair. The curls are there, less accentuated than bro night, but evident. “Ah, I didn’t really want to straighten it. I’ve already had fried hair one too many times in my life.”

“It looks nice,” you smile. Your throat tightens as you swallow. “You look nice.”

“Same for you,” he allows a prolonged scan of you. Sheepishly, you do one of those cheesy twirls you always see in the romance movies before Prom night or whatever expensive evening the protagonists are attending. Sincerely, with all the love rampaging through your chest, you’re going to kill Minho for cursing your life like this.

He snaps out of his trance, starting for the door. “We should get going.”

Aside from the quiet hum of the radio, the ride to the venue is silent. It wouldn’t be complete without hitting every redlight, either. Jisung’s luck must have rubbed off on you when you had that group hug.

You sit at one now, red gleaming against your face as you stare out at the sidewalk vacant of pedestrians. No one’s even at any of the other lights.

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you turn back to him.

“Good,” he nods, instantly averting your eyes.

Perhaps you should have found a way to decline. Even Loba would have been a better date option. At least she has chemistry with him.

x.

To no one’s surprise, the venue is huge. Potentially larger than the stadium. From ceiling to the carpeted floor, decorated properly with the black tie theme.

Chan reluctantly grabs your hand before you tackle the crowd. If you were cold, the warmth radiating against your palm is sufficient for heating the rest of your body. Unluckily, though, you aren’t cold. Your hand feels clammy in his. If he wasn’t attracted to you before, he certainly isn’t now.

You stare at your shoes as you follow.

“Just a heads up about my dad,” he glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re still there, despite the tether between you, “he most definitely thinks we’re dating, so be prepared for questions.”

“Oh great,” you mumble. How do you cure a lovesick heart? What an ambiguous question offering up to a plethora of potential answers. One incorrect answer, though: acting out romance. In real time, too.

“Sorry, I probably should have told you sooner. Kind of slipped my mind,” he squeezes your hand in apology.

Even when you break out into a free space, his hand doesn’t pull from yours. Instead, he slightly tightens the hold as he approaches an older man. Without any prior knowledge (ie. not Googling his dad after he cried on your kitchen floor over the bastard), you could guess this is his dad. They practically have the same face. Striking differences, however, given some context.

“Hey,” the man grins, eyes shifting curiously between you and his son.

You dip your head in respect. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bang.”

His hand claps your shoulder as you look up. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.” Silence hangs onto the end of his sentence as he glances at Chan for help.

“Y/N,” Chan offers. Your name sounds pretty coming from him.

“Y/N,” his father repeats. You want to sock him for saying your name.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Would have been nicer if Chan had given a little notice,” he laughs for you, alternatively offering a subtle, but not unnoticeable, glare to Chan.

Reflexively, your unoccupied hand clenches until you feel your nails pressing sharply into your skin. Discreetly, you nudge Chan’s arm with your elbow as a sign that you’re here. Slightly, his hand loosens in yours as his nerves slowly ease.

“Sorry, it’s kind of recent,” Chan laughs. His eyes crinkle into a faux delight.

“Of course,” his father nods. “Haven’t seen any articles about it yet, which is good. You might not want this being exposed to the GP.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Chan manages through gritted teeth, albeit hidden in a way only you could notice.

Then, as if the attack didn’t have a cooldown, he reaches up and tugs at one of Chan’s curls. “Your hair looks...interesting.”

It’s really difficult trying to remain neutral in the face of backhanded advice and compliments. Especially in front of this man, who shouldn’t even be given a title as esteemed as that. He’s scum stuck to the back of your old, rusty car that won’t go away in spite of however many power washes.

“Mr. Bang,” a waiter appears behind him, stealing his attention long enough for you to drag Chan in the opposite direction. He’ll find his way into a business conversation soon anyway. With no recollection of what he said to his son whatsoever. Considering his words will always stick with Chan, your face heats up.

You ignore Chan’s repelling tug, and his words that go in one ear and out the other. A hidden area near the bar is the only place where he has enough courage to stop you. But only because you let it happen.

“If we stayed there much longer, I would have caught an assault charge,” you huff.

“You handled it well, though,” he admits, “Even if you were about to break my hand.”

In the face of anger personified, he manages to smile and crack a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, finally pulling your hand away from his.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, glancing back at the bartender serving an established looking woman a margarita. Likely strawberry from its tint.

You shake your head, “I’m good. Thank you.”

“Well, then, I’ll be back,” he reaches out to rub your shoulder before slipping back into the crowd. You’re jealous of the effect he has to just become invisible.

You pull your phone from its hidden spot and open Minho’s awaiting text.

Lee Knows: Has he made a move yet?

You: Why would he?

Lee Knows: Idk you’re kind of obvious.

Before you can answer, an incoming notification from Seungmin pops up.

Seungmo: Is it true that you like Chan?

Minho. Lee Minho. You grimace.

You: No comment.

Seungmo: Sweet. Jeongin owes me twenty bucks. But ew. Who would romantically like Chan?

The text really ties together with the barfing emoji.

“Who’s that?” the subject of both text logs peeks his head over your phone.

You snatch it back, instinctively turning it off. “Seungmin.”

“I didn’t know you were friends with him,” Chan observes, placing the black straw between his lips. His drink is also tinted pink, but not in a margarita glass.

“Minho built the bridge during bro night. Now we plot behind his back,” you joke, promptly making Chan choke. He coughs, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he sputters.

“Don’t do that when I’m drinking!” he laughs.

Your chest heaves as you try to stifle the laugh building up in your chest.

“Oh come on, you’re even gonna have the nerve to laugh at me?” he tips his head to look at your quivering frame. He finds this funny, but he can’t just not tease you. That’s not in the rule book.

“I’m not laughing,” you try to convince him, lips pressed into a fine line as quick breaths leave your nose.

“Right,” he rolls his eyes.

If he were being honest with you, he was doing this as a ploy to take your mind off of his dad. Honesty isn’t one of his finer points, though. So he stays quiet.

“Do you want a sip?” he offers the fruity looking drink to you.

“What is it?” you ask, but accepting the glass anyway.

“Just a strawberry mimosa.”

Again, if he were honest, he’d tell you he only got it to share with you. It was a shot in the dark, neutral enough. But, again, not one of his stronger urges. Minho would refer to this as him ‘making a move’, unbeknownst to you.

You take a quick sip. Humming in approval, you hand it back to him. “It’s good, I can barely even taste the alcohol.”

He fixes his hair absentmindedly as a passing conversation arises. Subject: Minho. Goal: offering both parties ammunition for his next offhand comment or prank.

“Did you know that Minho talks in his sleep?” you laugh.

Chan pulls at a curl, pulling it straight. “He seems like the type.”

You reach up and flick his wrist.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop thinking about what your dad said,” you scold. The nerves in your stomach dissipate as your hand ruffles his hair, fluffing it out. He looks more relaxed as you pull away.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t apologize, or I’ll punch you next time.”

“I can see why you and Minho get along so well.”

xi.

By the time you’re set free from the hell of socializing with all of Chan’s dad’s friends who last saw him when he was ‘this high’, the effects of the single mimosa wear off. Luckily for Chan, you drank most of it, so he’s set to drive.

“My feet hurt,” you complain. Maybe it would have been smart to break in the fancy shoes Chan invested for you before the event.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Chan asks, turning to you.

Against all voices inside of you screaming to decline, your pain receptors answer for you. “That’d be great, since you're offering.”

He bends his knees slightly and holds his arms slightly out. When you jump onto his back, he doesn’t even react.

“Do you religiously workout or something?” you joke, though true curiosity shines through your words. You’re pretty obvious.

“Duh. Every breathing moment I’m not working or crying over my dad. It’s a stress reliever.” Your arms, hanging from his neck, feel each vibration in his chest as he laughs.

As he readjusts his hands beneath your thighs, maintaining a steady hold of your body against his, your body grows warm and you can envision your cheeks glowing red. Minho was so right. And the field day he’s going to have with the upcoming weeks until the joke grows stale. You shiver at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Chan asks.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about Minho.”

“Scary,” Chan mimics his own shiver at the mention.

You press your cheek against his shoulder, his steady steps drawing your eyes shut.

The silence you find is unparalleled to the one in the car earlier. This one is comfortable, homely even. So much so that you feel yourself fall asleep.

xii.

When you get to his apartment, he nudges your shoulder.

Your eyes slowly open, fighting against the dull light from the roof of his car.

“You can spend the night at my house. I’m not confident in pulling a sleeping body out of a car. Putting you in was hard enough,” he chuckles.

You manage a smile and hazily push the passenger door open. From the rest, your feet should be fine walking to the elevator (since there’s one less body than bro night, you’ll fit) and to his apartment. Still, he wraps his arm around your shoulders to steady you all the way up to his front door.

“I’ll grab you some clothes,” he says as you fall onto his couch. You didn’t acknowledge how comfortable it was just from sitting on it. Honestly, it feels like a normal mattress.

He returns from his room quickly with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Both black, as you could have guessed.

You walk to the bathroom and sleepily tug your fancy outfit off, careful not to ruin it. As you pull his shirt over your head, a rush of his cologne hugs you. You fight off the ‘I could get used to this’ comment that floats through your head.

You don’t remember walking back to the couch. But you remember Chan pulling a blanket up to your chin.

xiii.

Chan pokes your cheek, drawing you away from your precious dream of living in a cottage on the seafront—conveniently with him. You whine, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to ward him away. Dream Chan is waiting for you.

“Y/N, come on. You can’t sleep on my couch all day.” The worst part is: you can hear the faux pout in his voice. And potentially worse: you definitely could sleep on this couch all day if your life depended on it. Even if it didn’t, to be honest.

“Go away,” you grumble.

He sighs. His presence beside you disappears for a few moments, long enough for sleep to momentarily return. The bubble of peace pops eventually.

“Hey, Minho,” his voice returns, slightly muffled by the distance and the cloth pressed against your ear.

This is enough to spring liveliness into your bones. You sit up, hateful eyes shooting in the direction of the voice. When you see him laughing, his dark phone pressed against his ear, you reel. “One of these days, I’m gonna leave your company and then your stocks are gonna plummet,” you groan.

“Is that the best insult you can come up with?” he counters, dropping his hoisted arm to his side.

“I have more, but they're still closed off. You know, since you’ve rudely interrupted my sleep.”

“I’m sorry. Not really, though. It’s like noon.”

“And?”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he laughs.

“What, do you have a date to attend?”

Awaiting his response, you reach for your phone on the coffee table. Two missed calls. A few Snapchats from Seungmin, likely pictures of his new puppy, but no matter.

“I wish. I have to meet up with Jisung. Pressing news he has to tell me, too confidential to be told over text.”

“He’s gonna confess,” you shoot him a look.

“Yes, because Han Jisung would be in love with me,” he starts for the kitchen. An extended arm pulls at the fridge, and he pulls two waters out.

“To be fair, if I were Jisung, I’d probably be in love with you,” you say, obviously without much thought behind it.

Okay. In your defense, you were a little too focused on reading Minho’s latest string of confusing messages. Trying to decipher the code, Chan’s response passes right through you like a ghost.

Lee Knows: Y/N you won’t believe this.

Lee Knows: Loba’s gonna be so happy.

Lee Knows: I know you’re probably cuddled up with Chan or whatever but call me ASAP.

Chan lowers himself beside you, tossing the cold water in your lap. He peeks over your shoulder. “Huh. That’s pretty much what Jisung said to me.”

“Why are you invading my privacy?” you glare at him, considering elbowing him precisely between the ribs. Ultimately deciding against it, of course. Through tense internal conflict.

“Really? You’re sitting on my couch, in my clothes, refusing to leave, and you wanna talk about privacy?”

Just because he has a point doesn’t mean he should voice it. Plus, he offered the clothes. And the couch for you to sleep on. It really just seems like a self jab to you.

“Should I call him?” Your finger glides across your bottom lip as you look at him for an answer.

“Sure, why not?” he throws his hands up in defeat. “Let’s see what Jisung and Minho have conspired this time.”

The ring echoing sparks a nervous pit in your stomach. You pick at the sticker of the water bottle. It feels like forever by the time he answers.

“Morning, sunshine,” Minho’s sweet voice reeks of sarcasm.

“You’re on speaker, by the way,” you close your eyes to avoid looking at Chan’s burning eyes.

“Oh perfect, you are too,” Jisung joins in, a dry laugh escaping his throat.

“We have some questions,” Minho begins, but fails to continue.

“Such as?” Chan prompts.

“Are you guys dating yet?” Jisung bluntly jumps to the case.

Your heart rams against your chest. That ‘yet’ tugs at your insides.

“Uh, no,” you draw out.

“The media sure thinks otherwise,” Minho jabs.

Chan’s already searching for the articles by the time you can react.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back against the couch in frustration, tilting his phone towards you so you can see.

CEO Bang Chan Lands a Date Weeks Before Comeback.

Bang Caught With Employee?

Bang Chan, CEO, Makes a Striking Appearance at Dad’s Gala.

“What? Did you really think there wouldn’t be journalists there? Come on Chan, do better.” You never knew Jisung had this cutting edge to him. If the words were aimed at you, you know you’d break down. It’s a miracle that Chan is this composed.

“Can you calm down? My god,” you say without realizing. “It’s not like we can’t fix this.” How, though, you ponder?

“If it makes you feel any better,” Minho reluctantly says, like this sentence could put his life on the line, “you looked cute.”

“Thanks,” you mutter. In any other circumstance, you’d be quick to mock him. Well. At least he’s not outwardly making fun of you. Another one of Minho’s late night insights seeping into your thoughts: see the positive.

A text notification drops down against your screen. Despite having the luxury of using his voice, it’s Minho.

Lee Knows: Would now be a bad time to out you?

You: Horribly.

“Well,” Jisung draws in a sharp breath.

“Good luck,” Minho finishes for him.

After he hangs up, promptly after letting you know he fed Loba this morning, you pick up the water bottle and place it against your cheek. The shocking chill redirects your nerves momentarily.

You try not to look at Chan, but you know he’s looking at you.

After a moment to catch your breath, he sighs, “I have an idea.”

It takes an effort to pull your attention to him. A war against yourself.

“Play along with me for a second,” he says, pulling his leg beneath him as he repositions himself beside you. Fully facing you, taking in your entire being—which doesn’t help your burning skin. You’d give anything to be invisible right now.

“What if,” he starts, “we go along with it?”

You laugh in his face. “Are you sure that wouldn’t blow up even worse? Imagine people finding out we faked it. That wouldn’t be good for you.”

He messes with his fingers, suddenly finding an intense interest in the linework of them. He rubs his thumb against the crease of his ring finger. “I don’t think anyone would have to find out it’s fake, per se.”

“How are you so confident?” You look at him in awe. Even when he’s spewing absolute nonsense and under pressure, he looks like a god. Calm as ever. It’s horrifying for your heart. And for common sense, but that’s not as important right now.

“I don’t think Minho would lie to me.”

“What does Minho have to do with this?”

His dimple shows itself as a measly smile crosses his lips. “He may have told me.”

Regardless of what he may have spilled, you know instantly. “You’re kidding me,” you huff. What was the point of his dramatic message, then? A distraction, maybe.

“I mean it’s okay. It’s not like it’s not reciprocated or anything.”

“You are unbelievable,” you shake your head. “How did you know and not say a single thing?”

His hands shoot up in defense. “To be fair, I didn’t find out until after you fell asleep last night. For the second time. He texted me with this whole ‘I know something you don’t’ facade. I wasn’t going to act on it until I had a stupidly romantic plan, but then this happened,” he gestures around the room, as if it’s the decor’s fault. He’s quick to add, “And I couldn’t do that as soon as they said anything about the articles. That’d kinda ruin the mood, don’t you think?”

So Chan’s probably not good with looking amazing under pressure—he very well could be, but you wouldn’t know that right now. Which slightly irritates you, but no matter.

“Well,” you sigh. “I guess that solves the problem.”

He nods, looking at you solemnly.

“Your dad’s gonna be pissed, though,” you comment, and he laughs.

“I know.”

Funny. As soon as the problem jumped at you, the imminent solution scared you just as fast. Your head hurts from the whiplash. That must be a pattern with him.

“You know what’s kinda perfect about this?” he says after a moment.

“Tell me.”

“We can write love songs together now. Isn’t that cool?” The sheer joy in his face shatters any aggravation left in your veins. A smile creeps up on you.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“And you’re madly in love with a nerd so I don’t see what your point is.”

You pull the pillow out from behind your back and chuck it at his head.

“Oh so you’re trying to kill your beloved love interest? Real classy, Y/N.”

“Please just shut up and kiss me already,” you lean over halfway and wait for him to meet you.

Kissing a major CEO doesn’t feel much different than kissing a normal person, but there’s a striking flare of passion to it. Maybe that’s a personal thing.

His lips fit against yours in a way that makes your soul instantly tethered to him. You hope he can’t feel your heartbeat against your lips, for it’s pulsing rather loud and antsy for you.

Chan radiates warmth in every piece of his body, extending all the way to his aura. If it wasn’t for your pesky lungs running out of air, you’d never pull away.

xiv.

In spite of his idea for a romantic confession going down the drain as soon as he decided to think one up, he makes up for it with incessant gestures. Bringing you snacks when he should be in meetings. Buying you sweets when you get stressed. Purchasing Loba a huge cat tree, even though she doesn’t need to be spoiled further. Spending the night at your house even when his is way more comfortable for the sheer reason that Loba would feel lonely.When you mention taking her with you, he’d say, “I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable with the new environment.”

He even postponed bro night because you got sick and wanted to be the one to take care of you.

You don’t need reminders that he loves you, but it’s all the while heartwarming when he says it.

Even now, with his arm wrapped around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder, he’s thinking aloud in romance land. “What if we went on a vacation to France for Christmas? Isn’t Paris the city of love?”

You watch the TV, but his voice drowns out all of the dialogue. “I don’t know, Chan. Why can’t we stay here?” you shift in his arms to roll over and face him. This close, as you’ve grown accustomed to these past months, you can count all of his eyelashes. And you can see tiny freckles scattered across his cheeks. It must be an Aussie thing.

He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “We can stay here. I’m fine with that.”

Loba jumps onto the bed, her collar jingling with her sudden movement to warn you she’s arrived. You pull away from Chan a little to make room for her between you. “Here comes the princess,” you feign disappointment with a sigh.

She claims her spot between your chests and curls herself into a ball, burying her face in Chan’s chest. Per usual. She often forgets who feeds her around here.

“Anyway,” Chan leans over her, kissing your lips gently, “I’m okay wherever. As long as you’re with me.”

After a beat of silence, you cup his cheek delicately and say, “Let’s go to the moon.”

“Yeah,” he grins, “Let’s go to the moon.”

xv.

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple, setting a bottle of water in front of you.

Jisung gags from across the room. “Get a room,” he complains.

“You are a grown man and you can’t handle a couple being affectionate?” Changbin criticizes. “Get a life, dude.”

“Yeah,” you chime in, “Just ‘cos you live a poor, single life doesn’t mean you can hate on us.”

“Jeez, I didn’t sign up for slander on this Monday morning.”

“You definitely asked for it, but let’s get to work.” Chan draws his phone from his pocket and prepares for the official meeting regarding 3Racha’s next comeback.

God’s Menu was well received from the public, sending Chan’s dating scandal into the shadows. Minho basked in the compliments on the choreography. Seungmin whined when no one on Twitter noticed he was the vocal coach—and Minho didn’t make it much better by rubbing his glory in Seungmin’s face every chance he got. And you couldn’t get Chan to stop showing you funny Tweets and praise for nearly a month. Likely longer.

Here you sit in Chan’s office at the beginning of the new year. A lot of things can go south during six months, but things can shoot north too. Generally, for you, it’s been pretty north.

This time around, Jisung has calculated his homework and broadcasts his thoughts onto the wall.

“I already know what you’re gonna choose for the title track, so let’s choose B-sides,” he adds the disclaimer before anyone can mutter a peep.

“I don’t know about you all,” Chan dips his hands into the pockets of his trousers and leans against his desk, “but I’d say I’m pretty confident in writing a love song right now.”

You groan alongside Jisung. “Stop talking.”

Here we go on the hunt for the song of the new year. Conquer the competition before anyone has a chance. Like you did in creating the song of the summer.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Women’s Equality Day

Author: @shesasurvivor​

Prompt: Women’s Equality Day prompt: Katniss always celebrates by hunting, but this year she gets involved by her example of protecting someone, she is nominated to represent the district on this one day they get to make a public statement to the mayor and capital ambassador. It’s pre-written and awful and the entourage yaps during her live broadcast presentation. Katniss gets mad and says what she really thinks. [submitted by @567inpanem​]

Rating: General

Author’s Note: Thanks to @triplebigday​ for proof-reading! ______________

I was supposed to be done with public appearances until the Victory Tour. That’s what they told me the day the press packed up and headed back to the Capitol, anyway. At last, things would go back to normal, and we could pretend like the Hunger Games never even existed. Except for that part where we moved from our old home in the Seam to the fancy new house in Victors Village, where our only neighbors are Haymitch and Peeta.

Still, even with the new house, and my only neighbors serving as constant reminders of the Games, it was easy enough to settle into a new version of my old routine. Since I no longer have to go to school, I spend every day in the woods, trying to forget what happened in the arena. Though even that is proving more impossible than I thought it would be. But focusing on a shoot is the only way I’m able to clear my head.

When the phone call comes through, it’s all I can do not to scream.

“You’ve been chosen to represent your district for Women’s Equality Day!” Effie’s tone is so proud; I can practically feel her smile through the phone.

“For what?” I ask, trying to process what she’s saying.

“Oh Katniss, don’t be that way. This is a major honor!” Effie scolds.

I bite back what I really want to say to that, but her comment still does its job of prompting my memory. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recall hearing about the day. It’s some propaganda day that’s supposed to make women feel as though they’re appreciated for all that they do, but really it’s more for the women in the Capitol than any of us in the districts. No one cares what we do out here.

Which makes the whole thing all the more irritating. I’ll be standing on a platform in the town center, much like I did during the Reaping, and reading a prepared statement. I’m no good at these things, and everybody knows it. But given the nature of the day, there’s no chance I can convince anyone to let Peeta do it instead. Given all the trouble I’ve caused, it’s probably for the best that I play along. So without further argument, I tell Effie I’ll do it. Not that I had much choice in the matter.

“Do try to seem more excited, Dear,” Effie says before saying goodbye.

Right. How could I not be excited?

On the day of the celebration, I’m standing in the same spot I did before being whisked away to the Capitol. Only this time, I stand in full hair and makeup and an elaborate dress that makes me sweat in the August sun. Cinna and my prep team arrived early this morning to work their magic, which was probably the only highlight of this whole event. Now I wait for my cue as camera crews set up around me.

Shortly before the program is due to start, the mayor shows up, along with a man I’ve never seen before. But there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s from the Capitol, his skin dyed an unnatural shade of pink, and his outfit decked out in bright colors you would never see on anyone here in 12.

“Katniss,” Mr. Undersee greets me with a slight nod. “This is Septimus Perthshire,” he says, motioning to the man beside him.

“Good morning, Katniss!” Septimus Perthshire thunders maybe a little too enthusiastically. He forces a large, fake smile. “I’m the Capitol Ambassador for Women Equality. It’s wonderful to meet you!”

I fight the overwhelming urge to frown and draw away from him and instead force myself to give as fake of a smile as he’s giving me. I hope it’s convincing. “Hello,” I say, taking his hand as he gives a weak handshake.

“It’s so wonderful to meet the Girl on Fire in person! You know, you’ve caused quite a storm in the Capitol,” he laughs. “People love you there!”

That’s news, but not surprising. I saw hints of it in the final day of interviews before they let us come home. Besides, the Capitol is usually obsessed with whichever victor won the year’s Games until the following year comes around and a new victor is crowned.

Septimus Perthshire hands me a sheet of paper with a paragraph typed on it. “This is the statement that’s been prepared for you. All you have to do is read from it and smile,” he says.

I want to say something, but before I get a chance to do so or even read the statement that’s been written for me, we’re being told it’s time to take our places, and the program begins.

The national anthem plays, and then Septimus Perthshire walks to a podium that’s been set up on the stage and gives some speech about the important role women play in Panem. Then I’m being called up to the podium myself, and it’s time to start the address.

“Good afternoon,” I begin quietly, trying not to overthink about the crowd of people watching me all across the nation. This is being broadcast across the entire country. No one looks impressed. Not that I blame them.

I take a deep breath and continue reading the speech exactly as it was given to me.

The problem is, I’m not the only one speaking.

Several of the reporters who even bothered showing up in our district are talking over me. From where I stand, I can make out two of them. But I’m pretty sure there are more. With the sun in my eyes, I’m just not able to make them out.

I’m thrown off for a second by this. For being such a huge honor, you’d think they could give me a chance to actually deliver my speech. I wonder what Peeta would do, what Haymitch would tell me in this situation. Somehow, I know they’d both tell me to continue, as though nothing is happening.

I try. I honestly make an attempt. But the chatter is loud enough that it’s distracting me. Suddenly I’m back in the training center in the Capitol, angry with the Game Makers all over again for ignoring me when my life was on the line.

This isn’t the tipping point for me, though. I’ve learned to keep it together better since that moment weeks ago. No, it’s the comment about our quaint ways here in District 12 that finally pushes me over the edge.

“I’m trying to speak!” I snap, glaring down at the reporters.

It takes a moment for what I’ve done to ripple through the small crowd. Some catch my comment right away and are stunned into silence. Others stop talking as they realize the growing hush and tension making its way across the crowd.

At last, I’ve gotten what I asked for: no one is speaking, and all eyes are on me. Suddenly, I’m terrified as what I’ve done has started to sink in. This was no better than shooting that arrow at the Game Makers back in the Capitol. Worse, maybe. This is being broadcast for all to see.

I’m frozen to the spot, not sure what to do. All I can think about is the possibility of punishment being brought down, not on me, but my mother and sister. What have I done?

Septimus Perthshire swoops in to save the day. “I’m so sorry, Miss Everdeen!” he announces brightly as he joins me a the podium. In a way, he reminds me of Effie. “Everyone, please allow Miss Everdeen silence while she gives the speech she’s crafted so carefully for us.”

He puts the mic down and places a hand on the small of my back. Reflectively, I pull away. “Go on,” he says quietly so that only I can hear. He walks back to his seat, and I’m left alone again, front and center.

There’s nothing left to do now but continue my speech. It takes another second to work up the nerve, but I finally continue where I left off. I’m able to finish without another interruption. But all the while, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve only created more trouble than I had when I pulled out those berries.

“The Capitol’s furious about you showing them up.” Haymitch’s words run through my mind as I’m finishing up the speech.

Happy Women’s Equality Day indeed.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Travis has had both boyfriends and girlfriends since high school. But when his coworkers discovered his dating history at a board game night, they told him he couldn’t be bisexual. “Bi men don’t exist,” they said. “You’re just a confused gay guy.” Travis, 34, had brought his girlfriend with him that night, but they started calling her his “roommate” after they found out he was bi.

Santiago got an even harsher reaction when he came out to his family. “‘Bisexual’ is just code for insincere gay man” is how he said one of his relatives reacted. “He didn’t use the term ‘gay man,’” 24-year-old Santiago told me, “but I won’t repeat slurs.”

In the past couple of months, I’ve heard dozens of stories like these from bisexual men who have had their sexual orientations invalidated by family members, friends, partners, and even strangers. Thomas was called a “fence-sitter” by a group of gay men at a bar. Shirodj was told that he was “just gay but not ready to come out of the closet.” Alexis had his bisexuality questioned by a lesbian teacher who he thought would be an ally. Many of these same men have been told that women are “all a little bi” or “secretly bi” but that men can only be gay or straight, nothing else.

In other words, bisexual men are like climate change: real but constantly denied.

A full 2% of men identified themselves as bisexual on a 2016 survey from the Centers for Disease Control, which means that there are at least three million bi guys in the United States alone—a number roughly equivalent to the population of Iowa. (On the same survey, 5.5% of women self-identified as bisexual, which comes out to roughly the same number of people as live in New Jersey.) The probability that an entire state’s worth of people would lie about being attracted to more than one gender is about as close to zero as you can get.

But the idea that only women can be bisexual is a persistent myth, one that has been decades in the making. And prejudice with such deep historical roots won’t disappear overnight.

👬👫👬👫

To understand why bisexual men are still being told that their sexual orientation doesn’t exist, we have to go back to the gay liberation movement of the late 1960s. That’s when Dr. H. Sharif “Herukhuti” Williams, a cultural studies scholar and co-editor of the anthology Recognize: The Voices of Bisexual Men, told me that male sexual fluidity got thrown under the bus in the name of gay rights—specifically white, upper-class gay rights.

“One of the byproducts of the gay liberation movement is this…solidifying of the [sexual] binary,” Herukhuti told me, citing the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s as a pre-Stonewall period of relatively unstigmatized sexual fluidity.

Four decades later, the gay liberation movement created a new type of man—the “modern gay man,” Herukhuti calls him—who was both “different from and similar to” the straight man. As Jillian Weiss, now the executive director of the Transgender Legal Defense Fund, wrote in a 2003 review of this same history, “gays and lesbians campaigned for acceptance by suggesting that they were ‘just like you,’ but with the single (but extremely significant exception) of [having] partners of the same sex.” Under this framework, attraction to a single gender was the unifying glue between gay men, lesbians, and straight people—bisexual people were just “confused.”

Bisexual people realized that they would have to form groups and coalitions of their own if they wanted cultural acceptance. But just as bisexual activism was gaining a foothold in the 1980s, the AIDS crisis hit, and everything changed—especially for bisexual men.

“AIDS forced certain bisexual men out [of the closet], it forced a lot of bisexual men back in, and then it killed off a number of them,” longtime bisexual activist and author Ron Suresha told me.Those deaths hindered the development of male bisexual activism at a particularly critical moment. “A number of men who would have been involved and were involved in the early years of the bi movement died—and they died early and they died quickly,” bisexual writer Mike Syzmanski recalled.

The AIDS crisis also gave rise to one of the most pernicious and persistent stereotypes about bisexual men, namely that they are the “bridge” for HIV transmission between gay men and heterosexual women. As Brian Dodge, a public health researcher at Indiana University, told me, this is a “warped notion” that has “never been substantiated by any real data.” The CDC, too, has debunked the same myth in the specific context of U.S. black communities: No, black men on the “down low” are not primarily responsible for high rates of HIV among black women.

For decades, bisexual men have been portrayed—even within the LGBT community—as secretly gay, sexually confused vectors of disease.

In 2016, bisexual men are still feeling the effects of the virus and the misperceptions around it.

“We’re still underrepresented on the boards of almost all of the national bisexual organizations,” Suresha told me, referring to the fact that women occupy most of the key leadership positions in bisexual activism. And in a new, nationally representative study of attitudes toward bisexual people, Dodge and his research team found that 43% of respondents agreed —at least somewhat—with the statement: “People should be afraid to have sex with bisexual men because of HIV/STD risks.”

For decades, bisexual men have been portrayed—even within the LGBT community—as secretly gay, sexually confused vectors of disease. Is it any wonder that they are still fighting to shed that false image today? It’s hard to convince people that you exist when they barely see you as human.

👬👫👬👫

It’s not that bisexual women have it easy. Both bisexual men and women are much less likely than gay men and lesbians to be out of the closet, with only 28% telling Pew that most of the important people in their life know about their orientation. Collectively, bisexual people also have some of the worst mental health outcomes in the LGBT community and their risk of intimate partner violence is disturbingly high. Bisexual people also face discrimination within the LGBT community while fending off accusations that their orientation excludes non-binary genders. (In response, bisexual educator Robyn Ochs defines “bisexuality” as attraction to “people of more than one sex and/or gender” rather than just to “men and women.”)

And on top of these general problems, bisexual women are routinely hypersexualized, stereotyped as “sluts,” dismissed as “experimenting,” and harassed on dating apps. Their bisexuality is reduced to a spectacle or waved away as a “phase.”

But it is still bisexual men who seem to have their very existence questioned more often.

Suresha pointed me to a 2005 New York Times article with the headline “Straight, Gay, Or Lying? Bisexuality Revisited,” the fallout of which he saw as “a disaster for bi people.” The article reported on a new study “cast[ing] doubt on whether true bisexuality exists, at least in men.” The study in question measured the genital arousal of a small sample of men and found, as the Times summarized, that “three-quarters of the [bisexual male] group had arousal patterns identical to those of gay men; the rest were indistinguishable from heterosexuals.”

“It got repeated and repeated in all sorts of media,” Suresha recalled. “People reported it in news briefs on the radio, in print, in magazines, all over the place.”

As the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force noted in its response to the article, the original study had some clear methodological limitations—only 33 self-identified bisexual men were included and participants were recruited through “gay-oriented magazines”—but the Times went ahead and reported that the research “lends support to those who have long been skeptical that bisexuality is a distinct and stable sexual orientation.”

“Show me the quest for scientific proof that heterosexuality exists. It begins and ends with even just one person saying, ‘I’m straight.’” — Amy Andre, Huffington Post

The article fueled the devious narrative that male bisexuality was just homosexuality in disguise. The lived experiences of bisexual men don’t support that narrative—and neither does science—but its power comes from prejudice, not from solid evidence.

And unsurprisingly, the 2005 study’s conclusions did not survive the test of time. In fact, one of the co-authors of that study went on to co-author a 2011 study which found that “bisexual patterns of both subjective and genital arousal” did indeed occur among men. The New York Times Magazine later devoted a feature to the push for the 2011 study, briefly acknowledging the paper’s previous poor coverage. But many in the bisexual community were unimpressed that the scientific community was still being positioned as the authority on the existence of bisexual men.

“Show me the quest for scientific proof that heterosexuality exists,” Amy Andre wrote on the Huffington Post in response to the feature. “It begins and ends with even just one person saying, ‘I’m straight.’”

👬👫👬👫

One of the most tragic things about society’s refusal to accept bisexual men is that we don’t even know why it is still so vehement. Dodge believes that his new study offers some hints—the persistent and widespread endorsement of the HIV “bridge” myth is alarming—but he told me that he would need “more qualitative and more focused research” before he could definitively state that HIV stigma is the primary factor driving negative attitudes toward bisexual men. (Research in this area is indeed sorely lacking. The last major study on the subject prior to the survey Dodge’s team conducted was published in 2002.)

In the meantime, bisexual advocates have developed plenty of compelling theories, many of them focused on the dominance of traditional masculinity. For example, Herukhuti explained that “we live in a society in which boundaries between men are policed because of patriarchy and sexism.” Men are expected to be “kings of their kingdom”—not to share their domain.

“For men to bridge those boundaries with each other—the only way that we can conceive of that is in the sense that these are ‘non-men,’” Herukhuti told me, adding that, in a patriarchal society, gay men are indeed seen as “non-men.” The refusal to accept that men can be bisexual, then, is partly a refusal to accept that someone who is bisexual can even be a man.

Many of the bisexual men I interviewed endorsed this same hypothesis. Kevin, 25, told me that “it’s seen as really unmanly to be attracted to men.” Another Kevin, 26, added that “the core concept of masculinity doesn’t leave room for anything besides extremes.” Justin, in his mid 20s, said that “men are one way and gay men are another way [but] bisexual men are this weird middle ground.”

Our society doesn’t seem to do well with more than two—especially when so many still believe that there’s only one right way to be a man.

And Michael, 28, added that bisexual men are “symbolically dangerous”—a “big interior threat to hetero masculinity” because of a shared attraction to women. It’s easy for a straight guy to differentiate himself from the modern gay man, but how can he reassure himself that he is nothing like his bisexual counterpart?

The answer is obvious: He can equate male bisexuality with homosexuality.

The logic needed to balance that equation, Herukhuti explained to me, is disturbingly close to the racist, Jim Crow-era “one-drop rule,” which designated anyone with the slightest bit of African ancestry as black for legal purposes.

“For a male to have had any kind of same-sex sexual experience, they are automatically designated as gay, based on that one-drop rule,” Herukhuti said. “And that taints them.”

To see that logic at work, look no further than the state of HIV research, much of which still groups gay and bisexual men together as MSM, or men who have sex with men. Dodge, who specializes in the area of HIV/AIDS, explained that “when a man reports sexual activity with another man, that becomes the recorded mode of transmission and there’s no data reporting about female or other partners.” Bisexual men have their identities erased—literally—from the resulting data.

“A really easy way to fix this,” Dodge added, “would be to just create a separate surveillance category.”

But when it comes to categories, our society doesn’t seem to do well with more than two—especially when so many still believe that there’s only one right way to be a man.

👬👫👬👫

The situation of bisexual men is not hopeless. Slowly but surely, they are expanding the horizons of masculinity. The silver lining in Dodge’s study, for example, is that there has been a decided “‘shift’ in attitudes toward bisexual men and women from negative to more neutral in the general population” over the last decade or so, although negative attitudes toward bisexual men were still “significantly greater” than the negativity directed at their female peers.

“Put the champagne on the ice,” Dodge joked. “We’re no longer at the very bottom of the barrel but we’ve still got a ways to go.”

That distance will likely be shortened by a rising generation that is far more tolerant of sexual fluidity than their predecessors. Respondents to Dodge’s survey who were under age 25 had more positive attitudes toward bisexuality, perhaps because so many of them openly identify as LGBTQ themselves—some as bisexual, some as pansexual, and some refusing labels altogether.

That growing acceptance is starting to be reflected in movies and on television, once forms of media that were, and still often are, notoriously hostile to bisexual men. A character named Darryl came out as bisexual with a myth-busting song on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and, as GLAAD recently noted, other shows like Shadowhunters and Black Sails are starting to do bi male representation right. The HBO comedy Insecure even made biphobia into a powerful storyline when one straight female character, Molly, shunned her love interest when he told her that he once had oral sex with a guy in a college. But other shows, like House of Cards, are still using a male character’s bisexuality as a way to accentuate his villainy.

Ultimately, bisexual men themselves will continue to be the most powerful force for changing hearts and minds. I asked each bisexual man I interviewed what he would want the world to know about his sexual orientation. Some wanted to clear up specific misconceptions but so many of them simply wanted people to acknowledge that male bisexuality is not fake.

“It’s important that bisexuality be acknowledged as real,” said Martyn, 30, adding that “there’s only so long someone can hold on to a part of themselves that seems invisible before it starts to make them doubt their own sense of self.”

“I am happy being bisexual and I’m not looking for an answer,” said Dan, 19. “I’m not trying things out, I’m not using this as a placeholder to discover my identity. This is who I am. And I love it.”

Samantha Allen is a reporter for Fusion’s Sex+Life vertical. She has a PhD in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies from Emory University and was the 2013 John Money Fellow at the Kinsey Institute. Before joining Fusion, she was a tech and health reporter for The Daily Beast.

[mikanyuzu-26]

Is Chapter 139 of Attack on Titan being messed up deliberately?

*Views are my own. I barely post anything on social media but I feel the need to express my thoughts as a long-term AOT fan.

You need to be a genius in getting everything wrong. As a reader who has been following the series for 8 years, the frustration and disappointment the recent chapters brought me are beyond words. The series Attack on Titan has long been known for its well written plotline, with pieces of hints eventually leading to the reveal of mysteries, ranging from the identity of enemies to the origin of titan. Isayama the author is more than capable in building a story, as evidenced by the carefully arranged setups and successful characterization in 130+ chapters. Probably echoed by other readers, the story surprisingly went downhill since Chapter 124 (aka the alliance arc) when pacing becomes slow with no major progress in overall plot. Eren who is the supposedly main protagonist is nowhere to be found in most of the chapters, let alone his inner thought. The conclusion in Chapter 139 is even more confusing, showing clear disconnection with previous chapters and major characters being OOC. There are fans who are kind enough to summarize the inconsistencies.

Chinese netizens’ comment on the story quality

I would interpret the bad writing in Chapter 139 as intentional, with two possible reasons, or both: 1). To betray and hurt the readers as expressed in his interview. He is free! 2). To passively protest against a plot change by his editorial team

“I was a big fan of Game of Thrones, so I can relate to the feelings of those fans who were disappointed with how the series ended. But when I’m drawing, I’m expressing my own feelings, and I think as long as I’m doing that, my fans will be able to accept whatever ending I come up with for them”. The question is – was Isayama hinting at a GOT-like ending that expressed his true feeling? Looking at his response at this point of time, was he foreshadowing a disappointment?

Personally I am a believer of (2) – the plot was hijacked. I see the pacing issue starting from Chapter 124 as Isayama and the editorial team trying to buy time in reconstructing the plot. This is the period when multiple minor subplots (e.g. Connie’s mom, Aruani, conflicts with Yeagerists like Daz, formation of Alliance, Reiner’s mom & Annie’s dad) are introduced and closed off shortly after, while Eren is nowhere to be found.

Also note that Isayama did not even show up in the interview/live stream after the end of the manga in on Apr 10 and Apr 14, 2021. The editor represented him instead. It was also revealed in the most recent live stream that the editorial team had quite a lot of influence over the plot, in which they changed the last few pages of Chapter 139.

As many of you have already raised, early chapters already mentioned the “only way to put a final end to the cycle of revenge” is to do a full rumbling. I believe this is the first draft of the ending of the story as this idea has been expressed more than once directly out of the mouth of Eren.

The other possible change is the way of how Ymir is being freed. In earlier chapter, Eren clearly understands what Ymir has been waiting for 2000 years in Chapter 122, and this is also the reason why Eren is able to start the rumbling in the first place. The possibility of Mikasa freeing Ymir is not being introduced until Chapter 138 (or 139), and certainly comes out of nowhere as the only people outside of path who have seen Ymir are Armin and Ramzi.

How is Chapter 139 being intentionally messed up? The inconsistencies above suggest that at least two plot twists are only being decided at the very late stage of the story. • Eren’s true intention (Eren Requiem vs. full rumbling) and the reasons behind • What Ymir wants

Throughout Chapter 139, there are definitely better choice of words which even average Reddit/Twitter/Tumblr users were able to re-write in the past few days. However Isayama just somehow chose the worst way in presenting the story as if it is a shoutout to readers. The presentation also makes Chapter 139 memorable, though not in a way most have expected.

“Why Mikasa?” “Well…only Ymir knows that one…” When I reread Chapter 139, it seems to me that Isayama is not trying to shy away from admitting the plot change. The disbelief from Armin’s way of saying “Huh? Did you just say Mikasa?” is an analogy to the readers’ reaction due to the lack of interaction between Ymir and Mikasa before the last panel of Chapter 138. Eren is also drawn with a resigned expression. If this is an over interpretation of the frame, Eren’s next response “Well…only Ymir knows that one…” directly points out how the statement lacks a clear and sound reasoning. You can translate it into “Well…only [the company/my editor] knows that one…” or “Nothing I just want to throw this in”. Isayama clearly knows what he is writing and indeed “only Ymir knows that one��� becomes a meme.

Also to add that prior to Chapter 139, Ymir has always been a parallel of Historia/Krista, not Mikasa, even as early as Chapter 51, but this plot was just somehow nowhere to be found eventually.

Why Rumbling? The most disastrous consequence of a plot change, from wiping all history and civilization (that has been repeated in his conversation with Historia in Chapter 130 and his internal monologue in Chapter 131) to an Eren Requiem, is that it takes away all the justification and rationale for Eren to eliminate 80% of the population in the first place. Whether or not Eren executes the rumbling and dies willingly, the world will still be in conflict and future generation will remain in the forest. If the plan is to free Ymir, a better way is probably just asking Mikasa to chop his head off. That saves humanity (Ymir likes drama, after all!).

Isayama could have easily used phrases like “I just want to move forward” but he put “I don’t know why, but…I wanted to do that…I had to”. This is also Isayama speaking from the Eren – he does not know why Eren is doing rumbling just to achieve the 80% plan. He just “had to” draw it.

“10 Years, At least!” This is probably the most debatable and dramatic part of the chapter. Eren expresses his love to Mikasa but the scene is presented in a way as if it is a kid throwing a tantrum. In addition to that there is Armin’s comment “Oh ok…I didn’t expect something that pathetic..” as if it is again, the readers’ comment. The scene is portrayed in an unbelievably comedic way, especially when you compare it with Eren’s conversation with Ramzi in Chapter 131, which is supposed to serve the same purpose in showing Eren’s human/soft side. Most importantly, freedom has always been Eren’s core value throughout the series. The outright contradiction this line shows only makes the whole idea of this panel questionable.

Character Regression Needless to say, characters’ behaviours surprisingly regress back to the first arc, wiping out all developments throughout the series. The worst thing is it even kills the hype of re-reading the manga as you know the characters never grow, after all the sufferings and hearts sacrificed. Examples include: • Eren is still a crybaby • Mikasa remains trapped by her relationship with Eren and the scarf • Historia is not living proudly for herself after the Uprising arc • Reiner sniffs Historia’s letter after going through depression and wars (there is even a petition online asking Isayama to change this! You see how problematic this is.) • Jean and the horse joke

Almost everything that could possibly go wrong is wrong in 1 chapter These are written by the man who have been writing good chapters in the past 10 years. Can you believe it is just a lack of sense?

• “Thank you. You became a mass murderer for our sake.” • The “poop” that Armin gives Eren (Isayama likes using meme right? :P) • Eren’s face when he is punched

Is this the High School AU style?

Compared to Chapter 112...You can tell the difference.

The way how the fandom views Chapter 139 is certainly very divided, but even amongst those who like it, most still think “things could have done better” (source: SNK Chapter 139 Poll), showing how awkward the style is compared to previous chapters. The inconsistencies in character portrayal and plot are too hard to ignore. It pains me to see a well-constructed and reputable series, one step away from legend even just with an average ending, closed with a chapter that almost defeats the purpose of the rest. Trust in Isayama – while he can build a legend in 10 years, he can also take it down with 1 chapter.

By the way, Levi is one of the few characters who isn’t ruined. Probably also a conscious choice.

[kemifatoba]

C/O Berlin Magazine | It’s a space for everyone, and everyone can come in — Thoughts for the future

“I cringe when I hear words like ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusion.” To quote the civil rights activist, philosopher, and writer Angela Davis, “diversity” and “inclusion” are terms that you, dear reader, might have also stumbled across in recent months, whether you wanted to or not. Inspired by global Black Lives Matter protests, mainstream media, corporations, and other institutions finally realized – in some cases as it seems overnight – that racism is also an intractable problem in Germany. Unfortunately, we need more than just hollow words and empty promises to solve this problem. You might be thinking to yourself: “But didn’t people take to the streets or write opinion pieces in newspapers to protest structural racism? And didn’t major institutions promise to offer diversity and inclusion workshops in discussion after discussion on television?” Perhaps, but don’t be fooled. Instead of critically questioning the role that white decision-makers play in perpetuating systemic racism, “society” was blamed. Over and over again, Black* people were asked to answer if they had really experienced racism through scrutiny of their real-life stories, while predominantly white “experts” were invited onto talk shows to discuss the so-called “racism debate”. Profound, structural changes are still lacking, at least as of the time this text goes to print. 

Presence equals power. This brings us to the current moment where you are reading these words about British photographer Nadine Ijewere’s solo show at C/O Berlin. Nadine Ijewere is the first Black woman to be given a space that has previously been occupied almost exclusively by white men. As such, this exhibition is significant not only for Black photographers, but for everyone more used to being treated as the object than the artist or curator in spaces like this where many people don’t feel welcome or simply don’t exist. As trivial as it may sound, visibility comes from being able to hang pictures on a wall—or write these lines.

Joy as an act of resistance. Nadine Ijewere belongs to a generation of artists and creatives who have realized that there are more options than simply following the traditional path. Knowing that society has long since changed—even if many gatekeepers in fashion, art, and the media still cling to the status quo—this DIY generation is creating its own platforms to elevate their own role models with an army of loyal followers. In their work, representatives of this generation create worlds that rarely center Eurocentric beauty norms. The same goes for this young British artist, whose work shows people in all their beauty and uniqueness. Her photographs regularly appear on the pages of British, American and Italian Vogue, i-D, or Garage, and she has collaborated with brands such as Nina Ricci and Stella McCartney. Ijewere proves that beauty is multifaceted and that fashion is fun and for everyone. 

More than a seat at the table. When artists like Ijewere make it to the top, it’s not because of nepotism, tokenism, or diversity as a trend, but despite all the obstacles that have been put in their way. And instead of assimilating after being accepted by the old guard, they continue to write their own rules. In Ijewere’s case, this means not only working with diverse models and teams, but also passing her knowledge on as a mentor to keep the proverbial door open. She’s less driven by the desire to stand out from the mainstream than she is to give back by inspiring younger generations, who are able to see themselves in magazines. “Within the time I have, I’ll use every opportunity I get and every space I can get into to expand the horizon of others.”

Representation matters. Celebrating Black people and people of color in a traditionally white space was also the goal of “Visibility is key – #RepresentationMatters,” a watershed moment for the German lifestyle magazine industry when it launched on vogue.de in spring 2019. The goal was to take first steps toward a forward-thinking future where inclusion and diversity would no longer be mere buzzwords, but lived practices. Part of that effort meant ensuring representation in front of as well as behind the camera. The results weren’t perfect and they might not have led to social change, but we proved that there isn’t a lack of creative talent among Black and Brown people in Germany. If anything, we proved that these talents are often denied the space to develop their full potential. 

Ideas for the future. As you see, dear reader, it takes teamwork to bring about long-term change, and for the first time the doors are open a bit. Nadine Ijewere's exhibition shows this, as does being able to write these very words in the C/O Berlin Newspaper. In the statements below, we asked German and international artists and creatives to envision a future where representation and inclusion are lived practices instead of rare exceptions. The results are ideas for a future that is reachable—as long as we all keep working towards it every day. Together.

Nadine Ijewere, artist Art is about art. It’s not about you personally. That’s why artists need to be seen as artists. We all get stereotyped and put into the same box—but we have our own identity. We are put into the same space just because we are Black, but we are all very different people.

Edward Enninful, OBE, Editor-in-Chief of British Vogue Nadine is one of the leading fashion photographers of her generation. She’s not only inherently British in her work, she’s also Black British. She really understands the complex mix of culture, fashion, beauty, and the inner working of a woman, so when you see her images, it’s never just a photograph. There’s also a story and a narrative behind it.

Benjamin Alexander Huseby & Serhat Işık, designers for the label GmbH Our work has always been about wanting to show our community and culture to tell our stories as authentically as we can. It was never about “diversity”, but about being seen. We want to create a world where not only exceptional Black and Brown talents no longer have to be truly exceptional to get recognition for their work, a world where we no longer are the only non-white person in the room because we built the motherfucking house ourselves.

Mohamed Amjahid, freelance journalist and author, whose book Der weiße Fleck will be published by Piper Verlag on March 1, 2021. It's time that Black women become bosses. Gay Arabs should get to call the shots. Refugees belong on the executive boards of big corporations. Children of so-called “guest workers” should move into management positions too. People with disabilities should not just have a say, they should make the decisions. Vulnerable groups deserve to put their talents and ideas to work in the service of the whole society. Not every person of color is automatically a good leader by virtue of their background, but all-white, cis-male executive boards are certainly incapable of making decisions that are right for everyone. That’s why we need more representation at the very top, where the decisions are made.

Melisa Karakuş, founder of renk., the first German-Turkish magazine For a better future, I demand that we educate our children to be anti-racist and to resist when others or when they themselves are subjected to racism. I demand that discrimination is understood through the lens of intersectionality and solidarity! I demand that even those who are not affected by racism stand up against it! This fight is not one that we as Black people and people of color fight alone—for a better future, we all have to work together. 

Tarik Tesfu, host of shows including the NDR talk show deep und deutlich When I look in the mirror, I see someone who grew up in the Ruhr region and loves currywurst with French fries as much as Whitney Houston. I see a person who has his pros and cons and who is so much more than his skin color. I see a subject. But the German media and cultural system seem to see it differently because far too often, Black people are degraded and made into objects for the reproduction of racist bullshit. I'm tired of explaining racism to Annette and Thomas because I really have better things to do (for example, my job). So get out of my light and let me shine.

Ronan Mckenzie, photographer The future of our industry needs to be one with more consideration for those that are within it. One that isn’t shrouded in burnout and the stresses of late payments, and one that doesn’t make anyone question whether they have been booked for the quality of their work or to be tokenized for the color of their skin. The future of our industry needs to go beyond the performative Instagram posts and mean-nothing awards, to truly sharing resources and lifting up one another. Our industry needs to put its money where its mouth is when words like “support”, “community” or “diversity” slip out, instead of using buzzwords that create an illusion of championing us. How there can be so much money in this industry yet so many struggle to keep up with their rent, feed themselves, or just rest without worrying about money is truly a travesty. If this industry is to survive then we who make it what it is need to be able to thrive.

Ferda Ataman, journalist and chair of Neue deutsche Medienmacher*innen A recent survey of the country's most important editors-in-chief revealed that many of them think diversity is good, but they don't want to do anything about it. This is based on the assumption that everyone good will succeed. Unfortunately, that’s not true. It’s not just a person’s qualifications that are decisive, but other criteria as well, such as similarity and habit (“XY fits in with us”). It's high time that all of us—everywhere—demand a serious commitment to openness and diversity. Something is seriously wrong in pure white spaces that can’t be explained by people’s professional qualifications alone. Or to put it differently: a good diversity strategy always has an anti-racist effect.

Nana Addison, founder of CURL CON and CURL Agency Being sustainable and inclusive means thinking about all skin tones, all hair textures, and all body shapes—in the beauty industry, in marketing communications, as well as in the media landscape. These three industries work hand in hand in shaping people’s perceptions of themselves and others. It’s important to take responsibility and be proactive and progressive to ensure inclusivity.

Dogukan Nesanir, stylist  The current system is not designed to help minorities. By giving advantages to certain people and groups, it automatically deprives others of the chance to attain certain positions in the first place. That's why I don't even ask myself the question "What if?" anymore. My work is not about advancing a fake worldview, but about highlighting all the real in the good and the bad. I strongly believe that if some powerful gatekeepers gave in, if representation and diversity happened behind the scenes and we had the chance to show what the world REALLY looks like, we wouldn't be having these discussions at all. I don't just want an invitation to the table, I want to own the table and change things.

Arpana Aischa Berndt & Raquel Dukpa, editors of the catalog I See You – Thoughts on the Film “Futur drei” In the German film and television industry, production teams and casting directors are increasingly looking for a “diverse” cast. Casting calls are almost exclusively formulated by white people who profit from telling stories of people of color and Black people by using them, but without changing their own structures in the process. Application requirements and selection processes in film schools even shut out marginalized people by denying them the opportunities that come with being in these institutions. People of color and migrants as well as Black, indigenous, Jewish, queer, and disabled people can all tell stories, too. Production companies need to understand that expertise doesn’t necessarily come with a film degree.

Vanessa Vu & Minh Thu Tran, hosts of the podcast Rice and Shine  It may be convenient to ignore entire groups, but we are and have been so much more for a very long time. We contribute to culture by making films or plays and bring new perspectives to science, politics, and journalism. We’re Olympic athletes, curators, artists, singers, dancers, and inventors. We dazzle and shine despite not always being seen. Because we have each other and we’ve created opportunities to do the things we love. We’ve created platforms for each other and built communities. Slowly but surely we are finally getting applause and recognition for the fact that we exist. That's nice. But what we really need is not just the opportunity to exist, but the opportunity to continue to grow and to stop basing our work primarily on self-exploitation. We need security, reliability, and money. That's the hard currency of recognition. That would mean being truly seen.

*Black is a political self-designation and is capitalized to indicate that being Black is about connectedness due to shared experiences of racism.

Written by: Alexandra Bondi de Antoni & Kemi Fatoba C/O Berlin Magazine April 2021

[avatar-state-kate]

Okay so I alluded to a potential essay in this post and now I’m here to deliver on that promise. So here is the essay on

Kuvira as a Foil for Korra: A Culminating Conclusion

I am a firm believer that the difference between a foil and a great foil is the presence of similarities to really accentuate the differences.

For example, by making both Katara and Azula prodigious, 14-year-old benders, that they use their power for such different ends is only more poignant.

When considering Korra and Kuvira, it is their similarities which help to make their differences shine, so we will begin there.

One in the Same

Action oriented: Korra’s approach to problems is to rush headfirst into them, Korra is not a patient person and needs to take an active role, which is partly why having to sit out post season 3 is so difficult for her. While Kuvira is not impulsive she similarly takes action, stepping up to reunite the earth kingdom pre season 4 and fighting her own battles- best demonstrated in her one on one fight with Korra for Zafou

Ends justify the means: Korra’s morality when introduced is not based on any hard code so much as it is on sides- the good side and the bad side. Most actions, if done by the good side, are justifiable. For example going around the presidents back and having the united forces fight in a foreign countries war. It is Korra’s intentions and status as the Avatar (the good guy) which define her actions as moral. Kuvira, similarity operates on similar moral logic, her intentions are good, and thus what she and her army does to achieve those intentions is also ‘good’, or at the very least excusable.

Isolated childhoods; Korra was raised in the white lotus compound and Kuvira in Zafou. Both are cut off from the larger world, and both are over protected, Korra by the white lotus and Kuvira by Su - who we can infer from Opal’s subplot in season 3 of needing to convince her mom to let her go out on her own to train as an air nomad as being overprotective

Capability: both Korra and Kuvira have a need to prove themselves as capable as a result of their sheltered childhoods where they were made to feel incapable. Being action oriented this manifests in both developing and show casing their bending abilities

These similarities are important to remember as it is how each women handles these characteristics that defines them.

Black, White, and Grey

A lot of the older discourse surrounding Legend of Korra discussed how Korra’s arc was to learn compassion for others, however current discourse has fortunately recognized that Korra did not need to learn compassion; she was always a compassionate person. However, what she did need to learn was a level of moral ambiguity.

As described above, Korra followed an ends justify the means sort of mentality, as an extension of that however, Korra’s morality was defined by sides. Her side, and those against her. The avatar’s side, or the bad guys side. Under this oppositional framework there is no cross over, for her villains to insinuate they are anything like her, she is anything like them, is a deep insult.

This unfortunately prevents Korra from learning from her adversaries, as everything they thought is, to Korra, connected to what they did. We see the fallout of this mentality most in the transition from season 1 to season 2 where the dissolution of the council and democratic election where not initiated from Korra and none of the community initiatives started by Amon, such as the self defence classes, are continued. Korra abandons the equalist cause I’m full. However we begin to see this change in season 2 when Korra decides leave the spirit portal open, conceding that Unalaq was right about some things.

Korra’s learning moral ambiguity concludes with her meeting with Zaheer in season 4. Actively seeking guidance from a ‘bad guy’ symbolic of Korra’s realization that all people have worth while insight, that Zaheer is not just a villain, but a person.

Kuvira conversely maintains her ends justify the means mentality until the finale, with those who question her actions against her. Either you are on Kuvira’s side, the side of progress and stability, or you are an insubordinate, with no grey space in between.

Yin and yang is a common motif throughout the Avatar series, and while framing yin and yang as a good/bad dichotomy is a farce, the concept of light existing in dark, of one being born of the other, is extremely relevant. The fight between Ravva and Vatuu in the legend of Wan was not threatening while each was of equal size, it was only when they separated and Vatuu became stronger that the threat to the world arose. It is not a question of whether someone has badness in them, but a question of inner balance.

Stability versus Balance

Korra developing a more nuisances moral framework causes a shift from seeking stability to seeking balancing in the world. This may seem like the same thing, but to be balanced on a beam or wire is not to be rigid and rooted, but to move with the changes to stay upright. Balance is dynamic and fluid, the world is always changing and Korra needs to learn to guide the flow, not stop it.

Kuvira, however is not seeking balance but stability. She does not want to move with the world, but to bend it to her will. Her plan to reclaim Repyblic City and the rest of the now independent former colonies is a testament to that. Rather then develop with this new world Kuvira wants to set it right.

Connection versus Isolation

Korra begins season 4 more alone then she has ever been, one of the major themes of Korra Alone (which will get its own analysis one day). Korra’s injuries and trauma from the season 3 finale caused her to cut herself off from others, and while time away to heal was undoubtedly necessary, to complete her healing Korra must reconnect to the world and others.

This journey starts with a pilgrimage to the swamp, which in atla is where Aang learns that separation is an illusion as all of the vines are connected. Here Toph removes the last of the poison in Korra enabling her to connect to the avatar state. Korra also learns to use the spirit vines to see the world- she is reconnected spiritually.

Upon regaining her spiritual connection Korra is able to reach out to the air kids- her family- and begin to reforge the relationships she had disconnected herself from.

Kuvira, alternately has an opposite arc as she becomes more isolated. We see that Kuvira is emotionally distant as those who are supposedly in the inner circle, Bolin and Varrick riding in her car on the train, have no knowledge of the true nature of Kuvira’s regime. Her confrontations with Su culminating in operation Beifong where she physically fights her mother figure showcase Kuvira cutting herself from her family. By the finale her loyalest followers (Varrick, Bolin, Zhu Li) and her family have deserted her, all she has left is Bataar Jr. who she is willing to kill in cold blood for her cause. (Look, while we all know Kuvira is sapphic this is still a significant move, bataar was nothing but loyal and a true friend to her, possible her only real ally)

Ultimately this is Kuvira’s undoing. Bolin, Varrick, and Zhu—Li warn of Kuvira’s impending attack on Republic City and the spirit gun. Opal, Lin, and Bolin break out and recruit the rest of the Beifong family. And finally Bataar jr. provided the krew with the intel needed to take down Kuvira’s mech.

The mech acts as a symbol for Kuvira, as it operates as a giant armour for herself, and is similarly dismembered, all of its limbs isolated just like Kuvira has become. It is only when she lies in the wreck of her armour that Kuvira sees how isolated she has become.

Just as Kuvira the mech is destroyed through dismemberment/isolation, Korra is only able to dismember the mech as a team, with Asami, Hiroshi, Varrick and Zhu-Li creating the hole to enter the suit, Lin and Su taking out the gun, Mako and Bolin taking out the spirit vines, and Korra the head Kuvira.

Korra, and us, need other people, to be healthy and happy – to be balanced.

In Conclusion: The Final Confrontation

Kuvira is the perfect villain to capstone the Legend of Korra because while she is a foil to the Korra at the end of season 4 she is in many ways similar to Korra’s past self. Kuvira is the perfect villain for the series finale because she demonstrates how much Korra has grown since her introduction.

This growth culminates in Korra’s ability to recognize herself in her enemies “we’re a lot a like”, a statement that when said by her adversaries was once seen as an insult now a realization of moral ambiguity.

In their final confrontation rather then taking Kuvira out Korra offers Kuvira forgiveness, a chance for redemption. While moves like this can cause discourse in fandoms (she was a fascist and she lives but x innocents die etc), in terms of symbolic story telling it is very significant as Kuvira in many respects represents Korra’s past self, and has become the isolated Korra of Korra alone, for Korra to forgive Kuvira is to forgive herself.

[rwbyconversations]

The Scarlet Letter: Let’s talk about RWBY’s male LGBT rep

I have been sitting on this post for nearly four weeks waiting until the 15th due to the Before the Dawn spoiler rules.

So let's start with a blunt statement: RWBY's male LGBT representation has not been good. If the series' handling of female LGBT rep is good (which... well there's worse shows) and the general standard for how you write LGBT characters in a show like this, its handling of male rep has been... how not to. And Before the Dawn kinda solidified the idea in my head that the show's handling of its male LGBT cast just isn't good enough, either by the standards of when RWBY began in 2013, or today in 2020 when compatively massive steps have been taken over the past decade to show a more diverse list of characters... or at least a more diverse list of female characters.

I don't wanna make this a pissing match over how over-or-under-represented male or female LGBT characters are, but I feel like it's safe to say that the majority of the trend-setters for modern romances, especially in western animation, have been between women. Korra and Asami from Korra, Chloe and Max from Life is Strange, Marceline and Bubblegum in Adventure Time, (insert the relevant Steven Universe characters here, never watched it), and more recently, Adora and Catra in She-Ra and Luz in Owl House.

Compatively, while studies have shown that in general male LGBT characters get more appearances on a purely numerical level, in general they're more one-off characters there to pad a roster, or played more for comedy (see Josh Gad in the Beauty and the Beast remake or the gay guy in Avengers Endgame that was more notable for how hard China and Russia snapped him out of existance). The only big male-LGBT focused media I can think of from the last decade would be Yuri On Ice, Moonlight, IDW's Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye (Chromedome/Rewind best pairing fuck you Roberts for issue 16) Love Simon, and the anime adaptation of Banana Fish.

So it's no surprise that RWBY basically follows these ideas. It's big romance is (unless the writers are very stupid) going to be between Blake and Yang, their first out character was Ilia, Coco got sent to the Book Dimension where she confirmed "I use my sunglasses to perv on women without their knowledge" which uh... yeah you can definitely tell RWBY is written by men... and Volume 6 had Saph and Terra being a good example of an LGBT couple without any real drama. In the last three years alone, the show has drastically increased its lesbian and bisexual characters, alongside even including its first out trans character in May Marigold (albeit only revealed on Twitter). In general, these depictions of sexuality have been pretty OK. Would have liked it if Ilia wasn't immediately written out of the show after Volume 5 as it made her feel a bit more disposable than intended but whatever, subject for another day.

RWBY's male rep though is a bit spottier. There's the plant bois in Volume 5's premiere, we nearly had Pilot Boi until some last-minute revisions, and... Scarlet.

Why Scarlet's a bad launchpad for male LGBT rep

I don't like Scarlet or how his sexuality has been handled. Scarlet's homosexuality wasn't revealed in the show, or by the writers, or even in anything that's actually canon. He's confirmed gay in his sole of dialogue in a non-canon fan anthology, where the manga's Twitter team had to say that Miles suggested the idea and approved of it.

In short, Scarlet is Dumbledore'd, where his sexuality is revealed in out-of-show material and in a way that doesn't make it supremely obvious (Miles himself never commented to confirm this so this news was limited in how far it could spread. I'm genuinely curious how many people still don't know Scarlet's gay), and Scarlet himself is a nothing character who was written out of the show after Volume 3 and only reappeared in Before The Dawn, half a decade after he vanished. Compared to Ilia, as this came out after Ilia's entire arc in Volume 5, it's not a great starting point for mlm rep. But things would have been forgiven if it had gotten better, if the show did have more male LGBT characters introduced, even just on the Saphron/Terra level of just being around for a few episodes before leaving. Then it would have been a misfire but then we could all say "Things got better."

It... didn't. Which is why when Before the Dawn released in 2020, a full two years after Scarlet was first confirmed gay, while the franchise had more than doubled its wlw rep, Scarlet remained the one male character in the entire franchise who had a name and liked men. I remember vividly a fake leak for After The Fall which claimed Yatsuhashi would come out to Velvet and admit to having a crush on Fox. And I remember as well how many people were disappointed when it was said to be false, because it would have been nice for Yatsuhashi's character, especially after the fleshing out he gets in the CFVY books. If Yatsu had come out as gay in the books I'd like his writing enough to say he's a good case for rep, albeit with the caveat of "This is all in side material." But in reality, the leak was fake and Coco was confirmed gay instead.

Unfortunately, Before the Dawn proceeded to ruin Scarlet and made me at times feel genuinely uncomfortable as a queer man! Let's talk about that.

Before The Dawn is crap and Scarlet's writing is borderline offensive

I hate Before the Dawn. It's... bad. I read it while on a vacation and the only solace I had about the entire thing was that I'd bought an M&M chocolate bar. The bar was finished before the book. That bummed me out. It's not a very well written book, the prose is very Early 2010s YA Writer, none of the characters are memorable and there's various Fun Incidents like "NGDO using children as bait for Grimm," and "Neptune's hydrophpobia being used as a threat to torture him and the scene is played for comedy."

Theo was cool. I can't wait to see him as written by good writers, he should be a highlight of the Vacuo arc.

I had two hopes for Before the Dawn- "Don't be bad," and "Let Scarlet and Sage be well written." I'd liked how After The Fall had handled some of its characters (barring, y'know, Coco perving on women), especially Fox and Yatsu who were surprising in how much I liked them. I was looking forward to seeing Myers give Sage and Scarlet similar treatment- two relatively nothing characters meant he'd have a blank slate to write them however he wanted, he could give them unique personalties and if nothing else it could be cool to see their Semblances.

And then I read the book. (Sage fans I am so sorry for you, you got baited harder than Johnlock fans)

Scarlet's a giant dickhead in the book. It's his sole character trait and his inner monologues go on, and on, and on about how much he hates Sun, how he revels in mocking him. Most of his dialogue is sarcastic put-downs about Sun and how lame he is, and Sun is never properly allowed to defend himself or point out how going with Blake meant he was able to help save Haven Academy.

(hey remember when Sun in Volume 6 expressly says to Blake "I was a bad leader for ditching Neptune and the others, and I need to work on that" only for Before the Dawn to have him staunchly refuse to accept that he let the team down? I don't think Myers did but I do)

Scarlet being a ratty bitch would be one thing if, again, the franchise had done more rep. He'd still be a badly written character, but it wouldn't sting as much. But because Scarlet is still the only expressly confirmed male LGBT character in canon (the book teases that Nolan is gay but there's never confirmation either way beyond him smiling at Scarlet), it means that he has to represent that entire ideal. So when the one gay man in Remnant is being an asshole and a snide loser, that means that by extension, this is how the franchise sees gay men. And that fucking sucks! I wanted to come out of Before The Dawn singing its praises, I wanted to like the book, but it was a massive letdown, especially coming off of the other big 2020 RWBY controversy involving gay characters.

Yeah. We're doing this.

Clover and Fair Game: Technically not queerbaiting. BUT:

Let's pre-empt this: Clover wasn't queerbaiting, and Fair Game, while cool and I dig it, kudos to them for becoming one of the top 5 RWBY pairings on AO3 in one year that's fucking impressive (I say with mild malice as an IronQrow main), never had a chance. The writing never seriously boosted it barring one interaction which was flirty (them talking in the lobby of the Schnee Manor), and everything else was out of show boosting through the social media teams and CRWBY hyping it themselves by saying they liked it. If you wanna blame people, blame the animators who went off-script with stuff like Kim Newman adding the wink as a deliberate nod to the Volume 4 waitress, or the social media team deliberately using the same policies for Fair Game as they do for Renora and Bumblebee.

It wasn't Eddy's fault that things escalated, and he himself has said that in retrospect, he should have warned people that this never had a shot.

But I can't blame the Fair Game fanbase. Because Fair Game took off like wildfire. It came right as the fanbase began seriously asking for more male rep, Qrow's pretty hot, and the Clover wink came right after the Great IronQrow Reawakening of November 9th, 2019. The rocket was primed, and they rode it to the moon. Finally, to these people, after seven years RWBY seemed to be doing something with mlm rep in show. People started getting into RWBY just for Clover and Qrow's interactions. And if heroes were boring, Watts and Tyrian also had a fantastic dynamic that made Nuts and Volts one of the more popular villain ships overnight. Things seemed to be turning around! RWBY was remembering that gay men existed! You could hear the choir sing!

... And for those people, that meant that episode 12 hit like Truck-Kun.

People got pissed. People were horrified. And it didn't help that some members of CRWBY had said in the build-up that episode 12 would have some shots that made them nauseous (probably the Tyrian thumb thing) Out of context, it looked to these fans like CRWBY were basically laughing at their suffering, like they were saying "Lol, you thought you had a chance, get fucked, I hope your vomit burns on the way up."

Yeah, Fair Game was never gonna be canon, and I think some people ran too far with it. But in the wider context of how desperate RWBY's mlm community had gotten for basic crumbs of content? I can see why they'd run with what they had. The writers aren't at fault for what happened, but CRWBY didn't help matters. And that desperate mix of what felt like official backing from the crew, jokes about how cute the ship was, and the hope that finally the show would have onscreen rep? I can see why people ran with it.

So why is the show more lackluster in depicting mlm characters?

Money. Let's be honest, most RWBY fans don't care if the show doesn't have good male rep. I'm willing to bet some of you reading this won't care and just dismiss it as not being that big a problem. I don't think the writers care if the show doesn't have good mlm rep because they're not poaching that market. They're after what they see as a bigger, more lucrative market, which in this case is female LGBT rep. That gets people buying games, watching shows, raising awareness and boosting awareness of your property, which means you make more money. In short: Two women kissing hits more markets and generates more attention than two men.

Am I saying that Miles, Monty and Kerry deliberately sat down seven years ago and said "We're not doing gay men because it won't generate enough ad revenue and traffic to be worth the loss in revenue from homophobes?" No, that's silly. But I'm saying that it's less important for them, and it shows in the things that are small and add up. Things like Miles not verifying Scarlet's sexuality or retweeting the manga account's confirmation to spread the message (compared to how he enthusiastically confirmed Ilia being a lesbian himself during the Reddit AMA). It shows in how Pilot Boi would have been the first mlm character only to die in his second full episode until M&K were told about the Bury Your Gays trope. It shows in how Shannon believes that Ozma is "megaqueer" and Miles jokingly laughs it off instead of confirming it, leaving it to just be Shannon's headcanon. It shows in how actor shipping is compared between the mlm and wlw ships, where Arryn and Barbara's frequent pushes for Bumblebee are seen as "official confirmation that it's endgame" while Michael and Kerry saying they enjoy Seamonkeys is treated as "well it would be cute if they did it, but they're never going to."

I'm not gonna say anything like "CRWBY are gonna have Qrow end up with a woman like Robyn out of spite against the bad apples of the Fair Game crowd." I'm not gonna say that I don't think CRWBY cares about male representation in the series. It is, however, definitely a low priority for them, and because that leads to gaffes like Scarlet's writing in Before The Dawn being offensive in his depiction, it only makes the contrast between the sexes all the more painfully apparent.

I'm kinda tired of waiting for Rooster Teeth to show that they do care about mlm. I'm kinda tired of RWBY's male rep being written like it came from a 1993 time capsule where I have to enhance the screen to see a guy holding a sign of Sun's abs or be content with the only onscreen rep still being the plant bois in Volume 5. I'm tired of how often the crew dances around answering basic questions about sexuality (and age, and birthdays, and heights, and so on) by treating it as a spoiler question, as if just wanting to know what way people swing would ever be a spoiler. I'm just... tired of all this. When the best mlm rep in Rooster Teeth's history remains the two dads in Camp Camp who show up in a few episodes, that should say something really bad about your company and your biases (To say nothing of the recent Red vs Blue seasons and their blatant queerbaiting for Grif and Simmons and the whole can of worms that is Donut).

I'd like to not feel like I'm borderline unwelcome because I'd like to see two men in this show kiss, and that the sole thing that represents people like me in this show is some British twat who complains about sand.

I'd just like to feel like my sexuality isn't a joke to Rooster Teeth (or at the very least, be like Donut and have it be a funny one). But at this point after the last few years? I feel like a very uncomfortable punchline to them. And it just sucks.

[duchessofostergotlands]

Breakdown of my views on The Statement: My thoughts in bold

We are pleased to now be able to share with you an update on many of the details agreed at a meeting of The Royal Family in January 2020, which outlines The Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s new roles, taking effect Spring 2020. We had hoped to be allowed to share these details with you sooner (to mitigate any confusion and subsequent misreporting), but the facts below should help provide some clarification around this transition and the steps for the future. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t 

AS AGREED AND SET OUT IN JANUARY 2020:

It is agreed that the commencement of the revised role of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex will take effect Spring 2020 and undergo a 12 month review. No problem here, all makes sense

The Royal Family respect and understand the wish of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex to live a more independent life as a family, by removing the supposed ‘public interest’ justification for media intrusion into their lives. They remain a valued part of Her Majesty’s family. THIS IS SO FUCKING DISRESPECTFUL. “The supposed ‘public interest’ justification for media intrusion.” It’s not supposed. The fact they think that shows such lack of understanding of what their role is. We give them millions, they have a completely unearned influence over government and society at large. To prevent corruption they have to understand that public interest is an incredibly powerful argument. I get that there have been things that have happened that are intrusive and unnecessary, I’ve said that myself. But this is not the way to tackle them because the public interest should be central to everything they do and there were things that were in the public interest that they didn’t consider to be (like Harry’s recent lost case about his cropping of the elephant photo). 

The Duke and Duchess of Sussex will become privately funded members of The Royal Family with permission to earn their own income and the ability to pursue their own private charitable interests. Privately funded means no Duchy support which hasn’t yet been confirmed. This is ultimately misleading because they always had permission to earn their own income as working royals - as Harry knows, he was a soldier earning a wage - but had restrictions because they had to remain accountable. They don’t want the restrictions 

The preference of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex was to continue to represent and support Her Majesty The Queen albeit in a more limited capacity, while not drawing on the Sovereign Grant. HOW DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND YOU COULD NEVER DO THIS??? Again, the total lack of understanding of public sentiment and the important relationship between the public and the monarchy astounds me. What they’re saying is that they wanted to continue to be working royals and represent the UK officially with all of the power and privilege that comes with it but not have any of the ties that make them accountable. That’s not how it works. 

While there is precedent for other titled members of the Royal Family to seek employment outside of the institution, for The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, a 12-month review period has been put in place. There is no precedent for this situation and the fact that they keep saying that is feeding the stan nonsense about them being treated more harshly. Other royals are allowed to make income outside of the monarchy - as Meghan and Harry were at all times - but have to have approval from the Queen and the Lord Chamberlain. They didn’t want that which is their right - but is also their choice! 

Per the agreement The Duke and Duchess of Sussex understand that they are required to step back from Royal duties and not undertake representative duties on behalf of Her Majesty The Queen. Yep, all good

As agreed and set out in January, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex will retain their “HRH” prefix, thereby formally remaining known as His Royal Highness The Duke of Sussex and Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Sussex. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex will no longer actively use their HRH titles as they will no longer be working members of the family as of Spring 2020. Yep, all good. I don’t really think it was ever necessary for them to drop the HRH but that’s just my view 

As the grandson of Her Majesty and second son of The Prince of Wales, Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex remains sixth in line to the throne of The British Monarchy and the Order of Precedence is unchanged. Yep, totally cool. Now tell us whether he’ll remain a Counsellor of State which is a major constitutional issue 

It was agreed that The Duke and Duchess will no longer be able to formally carry out ‘official duties’ for The Queen or represent The Commonwealth, but they will, however, be allowed to maintain their patronages (including those that are classified as ‘royal’ patronages). Yep, no problem with this. This is about the individual relationship between the couple and their patronages, not about the BRF

It is agreed that The Duke and Duchess of Sussex will continue to require effective security to protect them and their son.  This is based on The Duke’s public profile by virtue of being born into The Royal Family, his military service, the Duchess’ own independent profile, and the shared threat and risk level documented specifically over the last few years. No further details can be shared as this is classified information for safety reasons. The monarchy has not confirmed this and as their first statement is now almost complete rubbish, I’m waiting to see if this turns out to be true long term. We have a right to know which countries are paying for their security, however. Canada has a right to know, we have a right to know if our taxpayer funds are going towards people who don’t live here or work here 

In relation to the military, The Duke of Sussex will retain the rank of Major, and honorary ranks of Lieutenant Commander, and Squadron Leader. During this 12-month period of review, The Duke’s official military appointments will not be used as they are in the gift of the Sovereign. No new appointments will be made to fill these roles before the 12-month review of the new arrangements is completed. This isn’t what we’d been led to believe so I’m not sure what the truth is here. I expect the BRF will have to clear it up  

While per the agreement, The Duke will not perform any official duties associated with these roles, given his dedication to the military community and ten years of service he will of course continue his unwavering support to the military community in a non-official capacity. As founder of the Invictus Games, The Duke will proudly continue supporting the military community around the world through the Invictus Games Foundation and The Endeavour Fund. It’ll be interesting to see how this works because the Endeavour Fund is a project of the Royal Foundation so will he be privately funding it? Which contradicts with their point below? Or will he be doing work for the Royal Foundation? 

Based on the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s desire to have a reduced role as members of The Royal Family, it was decided in January that their Institutional Office would have to be closed, given the primary funding mechanism for this official office at Buckingham Palace is from HRH The Prince of Wales. The Duke and Duchess shared this news with their team personally in January once they knew of the decision, and have worked closely with their staff to ensure a smooth transition for each of them. I get why they might be trying to frame this as out of their control but they decided to step back and they bear all the responsibility for these people losing their jobs. Take ownership of what you do. If they’d just included the below point it would have been fine. 

Over the last month and a half, The Duke and Duchess have remained actively involved in this process, which has understandably been saddening for The Duke and Duchess and their loyal staff, given the closeness of Their Royal Highnesses and their dedicated team.

As The Duke and Duchess will no longer be considered full-time working Members of The Royal Family, it was agreed that use of the word ‘Royal’ would need to be reviewed as it pertains to organisations associated with them in this new regard. More details on this below. No problem. I didn’t necessarily think this needed to happen but it’s probably cleaner. 

ADDITIONAL DETAILS:

As shared in early January on this website, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex do not plan to start a ‘foundation’, but rather intend to develop a new way to effect change and complement the efforts made by so many excellent foundations globally. This point and the sentences below are utter gibberish. Stop with the buzz words (literally every charity is cause driven jfc...) You also did call it a Foundation when you legally registered it so I can’t imagine why people would possibly be confused you’re saying it’s not a Foundation

The creation of this non-profit entity will be in addition to their cause driven work that they remain deeply committed to. While The Duke and Duchess are focused on plans to establish a new non-profit organisation, given the specific UK government rules surrounding use of the word ‘Royal’, it has been therefore agreed that their non-profit organisation will not utilise the name ‘Sussex Royal’ or any other iteration of ‘Royal.’ Fine

For the above reason, the trademark applications that had been filed as protective measures and that reflected the same standard trademarking requests as done for The Royal Foundation of The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, have been removed. I do think it was fair enough to point this out because the press have been suggesting the trademark was about selling stuff with their name on it when everyone trademarks stuff as a protective measure

While there is not any jurisdiction by The Monarchy or Cabinet Office over the use of the word ‘Royal’ overseas, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex do not intend to use ‘Sussex Royal’ or any iteration of the word ‘Royal’ in any territory (either within the UK or otherwise) when the transition occurs Spring 2020. This was definitely Harry. Anyway this is something that again seems to ignore public sentiment. The primary view was that they could do what they want but not claim to be Royal. This isn’t just the Queen being a meanie, it’s the Queen and the Government respecting public opinion. But ultimately, they chose to agree to this. They could use Royal if they wanted to, they acknowledge there’s no jurisdiction. So either do what you want or stop whingeing about it 

As The Duke and Duchess of Sussex continue to develop their non-profit organisation and plan for their future, we hope that you use this site as the source for factual information. In Spring 2020, their digital channels will be refreshed as they introduce the next exciting phase to you. “Source for factual information.” Given that your entire first statement was bollocks and you’ve misled people in this one I don’t really trust that you’re the source for factual information. You’re the source for your version of events. Which you’re entitled to be, but don’t paint it as the objective truth. No one should present themselves as infallible and above questioning 

The Duke and Duchess of Sussex eagerly await the opportunity to share more with you and greatly appreciate your support!

[closer-stars]

It Just Takes A Little Pull - Yunho

Member: Yunho (with mentions of Mingi and Yeosang) Genre: Fluff Requested: Yes @atinyxtopia AU: High school (Prom) Word Count: 3k Content: It’s High school. Prom things. Kind of a slow start. Female reader. Boys being fun boys.  Note: I have not thought of prom since I left high school so this was an interesting thing to write. I tried my best and I hope it reaches your standards.

A part of you wished your school accepted both girls and boys, it might have saved you from spending double on events such as school fairs, fundraising events, prom. Unfortunately, you went to a school that was exclusively for girls. Yunho was also at an exclusive boys school. Truth be told, a part of you also wished that your school accepted both girls and boys just so you could see him more. Alas, you could only see him after class hours or on weekends-- at least you had something to look forward to. 

You were part of the varsity, while he was on the dance team. Both of you were a world or two apart for a good majority of your school years. You’ve heard of your fellow schoolmates fawn over his skills and face more than one. Deep down, you actually considered him your school’s representative heartthrob. The same could be said for you on his side. Boys have come to respect your skill and often talk about you in their hallways. In the end, you both knew each other by face and reputation but that’s all. 

Some of your friends have wondered just exactly how you became friends with him. It was always the same story. Yeosang’s sister was your senior captain, you crashed at her place one time, from there you met Yeosang and then you met Yunho. 

“Crap, I’m so sorry!”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry!”

Yunho and you ended up crashing into each other. Only thanking each other’s fast reflexes for being able to avoid falling over. A quick glance at each other’s face then either of you bolted in the other direction, too embarrassed to say anything else.

“Unnie, who’s the other guy? I thought you only had one younger brother?” You asked, as you towel dried your hair. 

The older female looked up at you after a moment or two, she was always a sucker for these dramas. “Hm? Oh! That’s Yunho. I think he’s sleeping over tonight since he and Yeosang has a project or something. Dunno with that kid.” She said with a shrug. 

Play it cool. “So that’s Yunho..” You mumble. You knew who he was but it was always from a distance. 

“Sang. You didn’t tell me you have a twin sister.”

The boy looked at the human embodiment of a golden retriever in surprise, a bit of annoyance on his features as he had to pause his video game. “Yunho, what are you even talking about?” 

“I saw another girl earlier??” He explained, gesturing at the direction of where he saw you.

“Dude, that’s my sister’s teammate.” Yeosang explained, mentioning your name. That’s when it clicked in Yunho’s mind. That was you. 

“She looks cool.” 

“I’m more concerned for your head if you think we look alike.” 

“Think you can introduce me to her?” 

A yell from Yeosang and Yunho looked up at him in concern. Yeosang dropped the gaming console in disappointment before turning to the male.“I’m blaming you for making me die.”

Yeosang did follow through with Yunho’s wish, after plotting with his sister that is. How else do you get insanely active people to bond? Food. Their mother had left them money for the night while she had to go on a business trip. What were the chances that the both of you would sleep over at their place on the same day? 

From that day on, the rest was history. You and Yunho were now pretty inseparable (as inseparable as you guys could be that is). The both of you would talk to each other whenever possible, much to the teasings of your friends because hey, what’s so funny? Why are you smiling while messaging something? Do you have a crush? 

You were finally one of his admirers, eventually catching feelings for him. It was hard not to and you could see why he had a fanclub or two in other schools. Did he return those feelings? You weren’t sure but you were happy with how the both of you were now. 

Fast forward a year later and the friendship has become one of the strongest friendships you have in your high school life. Both of you are now at the fated year level where the main topic of discussion would be prom. 

“Hey, do you have a prom date already?” Your best friend asks you as you ate your lunch thoughtfully. You look at her with suspicion. “What?”

“You have plans of setting me up with someone?”

“Why would I have plans? Also does that mean you haven’t asked Yunho yet?”

Your bottom lip juts out and you continue to eat, thus causing your best friend to groan. 

“My godd, you’ve known Yunho this long and you haven’t asked him?! Hey, did you even know he doesn’t entertain any of those love confessions anymore?” She complains to you. 

Confused eyes look at her for saying such things. “What does that even have to do with me?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just saying, ask him. If he’s not available then I can ask my brother, Hansol to go with you.” 

You flash an ‘okay’ sign at her, mouth full with noodles. Your free hand then reaches for your phone. 

[KKT: Dancing Doggo] Hey are you free on February 21 5PM to 10PM? It’s my prom, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?

Your best friend watches as you compose the message and before you could even stop her, she had already pressed send for you. “Hey!” A tone of mild annoyance was clear in your voice as you try to bring your phone away from her. 

“Believe me, you’ll thank me later.” She says with such a grin, you might as well have called her the devil incarnate. Your phone buzzes almost immediately making you jump. Without another word, both of you huddle around your phone. 

[KKT: Sonic] Yeah! Of course I’m willing! Are you free also on March 6, same time? Same reasons. Hehe. 

That was when your best friend suddenly tackled you into an almost bone crushing hug. “I told you!” A hand is then placed over her loud mouth as you try to hush her. 

[KKT: Dancing Doggo] I’d be honored! It’s a deal then! :)

Maybe having to pay double for two proms wasn’t that bad then. 

The fateful day of your own prom arrives and you were actually pretty nervous about it. You’ve worn your own share of skirts and dresses but it was never this extravagant or feminine as your prom dress. A high-low skirt that starts below your knees down and ends just brushing above the floor when you’re in heels. The color matched your skin tone well, making you practically glow under the lighting. Your hair and face was all made up and to be honest, you were surprised that you could look like that under that much makeup and hair spray. A small part of you worried that the color you chose wouldn’t go well with Yunho but even before you could say your worry, he reassures you it was no problem. “Besides, if it doesn’t. I can pick the color for my prom.” He joked to you a few weeks back. Your mother takes a few photos of you before letting you go. 

You head towards the lobby that’s sprinkled with your own classmates in dresses that are just as beautiful if not more, along with a few familiar faces from Yunho’s school and others in suits that fit them nicely. You sent Yunho a message wondering where he is and just as you did so, you immediately spot him by the elevator, with Yeosang. 

“Yunho!” You call out, speeding towards the two boys and they look up at you both in shock. Your eyes lingered on Yeosang’s amusing reaction, it was rare to get a big reaction from him so having him look at you with eyes wider than him being caught eating his own sister’s food was fun. While on the other hand, Yunho was gazing at you, clearly dazed. He’s had his share of harbouring romantic feelings for you but to see you in such a dress that gracefully brought you out of your comfort zone had him at a loss for words. 

You squish Yeosang’s cheeks together much to his annoyance then shift your attention to your partner for the night. You look at his suit properly and find yourself breathing a sigh of relief. “At least I picked a color that suits you well too.” You say as you pin the boutonniere on his suit carefully. 

“Hey, I told you I’m lucky boy.” He points out as he slightly bends lower to not give you a hard time. His statement makes you hit his chest lightly. 

“Whatever, Yunho.” You return with a roll of your eyes. Yeosang excuses himself as he finally spots his prom date, who was surprisingly your best friend. “Yeosang! Tell her she owes me an explanation.” He looks at you, confused at the vague wording but knows better than to pry. He nods before making his way to her, leaving the both of you alone. 

Some of your peers slowly start to enter the venue. “Should we follow them or do you want to stay outside a little longer?” asks Yunho, turning to you. 

A small hum of thought slips through your red lips. “Let’s go! I want to see how they made the place.” You reply with an excited grin. Your partner for the night then offers his elbow for you to hook your hand to. 

“M’lady.” he jokes and for a moment he swears your giggle actually sounded cute. Your hand shyly holds on to the crook of his arm. 

“How cheesy of you.” 

“It’s prom. Might as well make the most out of it.”

He was right. For the entire night, the two of you exchange laughter and sassy remarks, ultimately becoming the life of your table (much to the embarrassment of your best friend and Yeosang. Athletes and dancers in one table might have been too much for her heart to take). He made you join the games that were sprinkled throughout the event (you guys won and Yunho wasn’t going to let you forget that). His presence was enough to make your stomach hurt from laughter. There was something in how he interacted with those around him that made them feel at ease. A small voice in your head thought of how you were perfectly fine keeping these feelings to yourself as long as you don’t lose him. The only time both of you mellowed down was during the meal proper. It wasn’t anything over the top but it was fancy enough to let you know the organizers put enough thought. 

The much awaited slow dance had come-- as if it weren’t obvious by the cheesy lightings and song choices by the DJ. Some couples have made their way to the dance floor, excited to have some sort of “moment” with their partner. You didn’t say much, being fine in your seat as you watched the others dance. This wasn’t going to pass with your partner though. In fact, he stands up first and offers his hand. You look at the hand that comes up to your view towards the owner of the outstretched hand.

“Let’s dance. We’re not leaving this place until we get to dance.” Yunho says firmly. 

“Fair warning, I don’t have feet like you do.” You return as you take his hand and stand up. 

“I got you. Don’t worry.” He reassures, flashing you that charming smile that has managed to get the girls to squeal earlier in the games. He leads you to the dance floor, guiding one hand to rest on his shoulder (thank god for heels), the other hand laced with his. His free hand then rests on your waist and for the first time that night, you felt conscious of how you looked in front of him. You had to admit, the dress, makeup and hair you had on tonight was lovely but to be under his gaze at such close distance for who knows how long has made a pink hue dust your cheeks, and you were sure that wasn’t blush. 

“Just follow my lead okay?” He says softly. His feet then slowly step to one side, letting you follow him. Just below his breath, soft enough for no one to hear but loud enough for your ears only, he counts to the tempo of the song, helping your ears tune in to what he hears. He’s done this in the past with you, with songs that he covers: all of which were fast paced. A slower paced song such as the one playing on the speakers was new to you. You have songs that you’ve shared in the past where you can pay attention to it as a whole then pay attention to what beats he catches underneath all the layers. This time though, you had nowhere else to distract yourself with. After getting the hang of the motions, you look up at him and find him gazing at you softly. “Got the hang of it?” 

You nod, trying your best not to look at his lips. He smiles again, proud of you for having done so. “We can stay like this for another song or two if you want. I know you’re tired of being in heels for the past few hours.” He reassures. 

“I’m fine. I promise. Maybe another song wouldn’t hurt.” You return. One song was enough for you to feel light headed from how close the both of you were, much more when you get a whiff of his cologne. The cloud nine feeling ends soon, with the MC letting the rest of the night be upbeat songs. You breathe a sigh of relief, wanting to give your feet a break from having to almost be on your tiptoes for the entire night. Yunho leads you out of the dance floor, and out into the lobby where the cool air helps you breathe easy. 

Some familiar faces were already outside too. From the looks of it, you could tell that Yunho also recognized them, judging from how jumpy he started to be. “Oh, Mingi’s here too huh?” He muses. Uh-oh. That meant one thing. The group was about to only have one brain cell for the remainder of the night. 

Both of you make your way to their table, the girls having the couch and the heels off their feet-- which you quickly followed once you sat down. The boys on the other hand sat opposite their side. Both having either iced tea or iced coffee with some snacks. Yunho then introduces you to the rest of his friends. You knew the girls too from another class. The rest of the night was once again filled with laughter. As some of the boys decided to try to fit their feet into the heels, some using the heels as a phone. Hell, Mingi tossed a heel at Yunho and they quickly hit the whoa. The girls, including you, found entertainment and embarrassment at their antics, even going as far as teaching them how it feels to be a girl at the worst times. 

One by one, the people in your table leave. Either to be picked up by their parents, or up into their rooms in the hotel. It was only you and him left once more. Your coffee was watered down and half empty. Yunho’s bottle of water wasn’t any different from yours. A comfortable, yet slightly awkward silence goes over the both of you. 

“Thank--

“Thanks for--”

Pause.

Laughter.

“You first-”

“You fi-”

Pause again. 

Then Yunho gestures for you to speak first. “Thank you for coming with me. I had a lot of fun tonight.” Your heart races as you speak. You hope this isn’t from the coffee and rather from the nerves of being just alone with him like this. “I’m sorry also for having you to bring me out of the venue when it was your type of music playing… I know you like to dance to those songs too..”

“I should be the one thanking you for inviting me. Even if you didn’t, I would’ve invited you to my prom.” He confesses, ears bright red as he does so. He rubs the back of his neck as he finds the next words. “Don’t worry about the music part. I can always play those songs in my free time and there’s still my prom. More chances to embarrass you too.” 

“Jung Yunho.”

“What?” He laughs at the sight of your stern face. “You know your strict face isn’t scary to me. You love me too much for that.” You hate how right he is, you also hate how he doesn’t know just how right he is. 

He looks at the clock then helps you into your heels. “Let’s get you back to your parents. They’re probably wondering where their little princess is.” He teases again which causes him to receive another whack on his arm. “What? You do look like one tonight!” You slowly push yourself to stand up. The pain of being on your tiptoes rushing back. He holds you gently, making sure you don’t wobble. 

“Easy there. I know you’re strong but even you got your limits.” He accompanies you to the elevator. 

“How about you?” 

“What about me?”

“How are you getting home?” 

He glances at you, somehow catching himself off guard with the change in distance. Why was it only now that he gets surprised by how close your face was to his. Heels really are something. 

“Oh, Yeosang and I got a room too. Are you worried about me?” He teases, batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Yunho, I swear--”

Before you could finish your words, the doors of the elevator slide open and both of you immediately enter. 

The ride up was a slow one. Both of you didn’t know that your rooms were on the same floor too, only on different sides of the building. 

Somehow, a part of you was hoping for something. You didn’t know what it was but you wanted something to happen. The same goes for Yunho. His hand immediately then holds you back gently. 

“I need to tell you something.” He says softly, his eyes downcast. Your stomach drops at his body language. Did he like someone else? Was he leading you on this whole time? 

“I actually wanted to tell you this earlier but there wasn’t really a good time for me to say it.” The words were flying a mile a minute. He could’ve beaten Mingi when it came to fastest speaker at this point. “I just really wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you. Not.. as friends but as something more.” He explains. His eyes steady on you, with no sign of his signature mischievous glint in his eyes. 

It catches you off guard, a little too lost for words because, Jung Yunho? He has a crush on you? Are the feelings mutual? He takes your silence as something else and drops his hand. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s totally fine. We can stay as friends. I just.. Felt--”

“Jung Yunho, I like you too.” You immediately blurt out. 

His face brightens up at your words and he wraps his arms around you in relief. “We don’t have to be officially together if you want. We can just take it slow or just--” 

His lips feel nice against your own. The taste of the chocolate he ate earlier is still apparent. “You talk too much.” You say simply when you pull away and for the first time that night, he was speechless.

“I’d love to be your official girlfriend, you dumb butt.” 

“Your lucky dumb butt.”

[phroyd]

WASHINGTON — President-elect Joseph R. Biden Jr. prepared on Sunday to start building his administration, even as Republican leaders and scores of party lawmakers refrained from acknowledging his victory out of apparent deference to President Trump, who continued to refuse to concede.

With Mr. Biden out of the public eye as he received congratulations from leaders around the world, his team turned its attention to a transition that will swing into action on Monday, with the launch of a coronavirus task force and swift moves to begin assembling his team.

But more than 24 hours after his election had been declared, the vast majority of Republicans declined to offer the customary statements of good will for the victor that have been standard after American presidential contests, as Mr. Trump defied the results and vowed to forge ahead with long-shot lawsuits to try to overturn them.

While some prominent Republican figures, including the party’s only living former president, George W. Bush, called Mr. Biden to wish him well, most elected officials stayed silent in the face of Mr. Trump’s baseless claims that the election was stolen from him.

Mr. Biden did not respond to Mr. Trump’s attacks on the result, but he also was not waiting for a concession. On Sunday, he unveiled his official transition website as he prepared a series of executive actions for his first day in the Oval Office — including rejoining the Paris climate accord, moving aggressively to confront the coronavirus pandemic and restoring labor organizing rights for government workers — aimed at unwinding Mr. Trump’s domestic agenda and repairing the United States’ image in the world.

But Republicans’ silence suggested that even in defeat, Mr. Trump maintained a powerful grip on his party and its elected leaders, who have spent four years tightly embracing him or quietly working to avoid offending him or his loyal base. For many prominent Republicans, the president’s reluctance to accept the election results created a dilemma, making even the most cursory expression of support for Mr. Biden seem like a conspicuous break with Mr. Trump.

Senator Roy Blunt of Missouri was the most senior Republican to suggest that Mr. Trump had most likely lost and cast doubt on his allegations of a stolen election, but he stopped short of referring to Mr. Biden as the president-elect in an exceedingly careful television interview.

“It’s time for the president’s lawyers to present the facts, and it’s time for those facts to speak for themselves,” Mr. Blunt, the chairman of the Rules Committee, said on ABC’s “This Week.” “It seems unlikely that any changes could be big enough to make a difference, but this is a close election, and we need to acknowledge that.”

“I look forward,” Mr. Blunt added, “to the president dealing with this however he needs to deal with it.”

At the White House, there was little indication that Mr. Trump was dealing with it at all. As he played a second consecutive day of golf at his private club outside Washington, the president recirculated a groundless claim by Newt Gingrich, the former Republican speaker of the House, who told Fox News, “I think that it is a corrupt, stolen election.”

Privately, the president’s advisers, several of whom have quietly been candid with Mr. Trump that the chances of success in any challenge to the election outcome were not high, had concluded they had little option other than to allow the president to keep fighting until he was ready to bow to the reality of his loss.

On Friday, a large group of them met with the president in the Oval Office to discuss the way forward, giving him a brutally honest assessment of his likelihood of prevailing. After another meeting at Mr. Trump’s campaign headquarters on Saturday, where political aides again laid out the small chances of changing the outcome of the race, Jared Kushner, the president’s senior adviser and son-in-law, asked the group to go to the White House to outline it for Mr. Trump, according to people briefed on the meeting.

Campaign officials continued to discuss their legal strategy for challenging the election results on Sunday and named Representative Doug Collins of Georgia, who lost his bid for a Senate seat on Tuesday, to lead their recount effort in the state.

On his first full day as president-elect, Mr. Biden kept a low profile, emerging publicly only to attend Mass, as he does most Sundays. Afterward, he visited the cemetery where his son Beau; his first wife, Neilia; and their daughter, Naomi, are buried. In a sign of one specific stylistic change coming to the White House, he also stayed quiet in another way: Aside from circulating a video posted by his presidential transition, he had not sent a single tweet by Sunday evening.

Leaders around the world sent their congratulations to Mr. Biden, underscoring the international community’s acceptance of the results, even by those who had cultivated close personal ties with Mr. Trump, including Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel and Boris Johnson of Britain. A few refrained, including the leaders of Russia and China, Vladimir V. Putin and Xi Jinping.

There were signs that Mr. Trump would come under increasing pressure to accept the election results. The nonpartisan Center for Presidential Transition, a nonprofit that assists in transfers of power between administrations, called on his team to “immediately begin the postelection transition process.”

“While there will be legal disputes requiring adjudication, the outcome is sufficiently clear that the transition process must now begin,” members of the group’s advisory board — including Mike Leavitt, the former Republican governor of Utah, and Josh Bolten, the White House chief of staff under Mr. Bush — wrote in a letter reported earlier by Politico.

“This was a hard-fought campaign, but history is replete with examples of presidents who emerged from such campaigns to graciously assist their successors,” they wrote.

Mr. Bush extended his congratulations to Mr. Biden in a statement issued after the two men spoke on Sunday.

“Though we have political differences, I know Joe Biden to be a good man, who has won his opportunity to lead and unify our country,” Mr. Bush said in a statement.

And a former member of Mr. Trump’s cabinet, Gary Cohn, also acknowledged Mr. Biden’s victory, tweeting his “congrats” to “President-elect @joebiden and Vice President-elect @kamalaharris.”

“With over 145M votes cast,” he continued, “both campaigns should be applauded for getting an unprecedented number of citizens engaged in the democratic process.”

The silence from most other leading Republicans cut both ways for the president. While it allowed Mr. Trump to continue the fiction that he had not lost, it also left him to battle against the election results without the full, vocal support of his party behind him.

Senator Mitch McConnell, Republican of Kentucky and the majority leader, has declined to say anything since Friday, before the election results were known, when he released a generic statement encouraging officials to “count all the votes.” No member of his leadership team has either, apart from Mr. Blunt’s carefully worded statements on Sunday.

In a brief interview later Sunday, Mr. Blunt said a public vetting of the Trump campaign’s claims of fraud could help reassure voters on both sides of the election’s legitimacy.

“I think it is best for both the president and Biden to have as much information out as is possible,” he said.

At the same time, just two Republican senators — Mitt Romney of Utah and Lisa Murkowski of Alaska — and a handful of House members had acknowledged Mr. Biden’s win by Sunday evening, while others were trying to cast doubt on the results.

“Every legal challenge should be heard,” said Representative Kevin McCarthy of California, the House minority leader. “Then and only then will America decide who won the race.”

Speaking on Fox News, Mr. McCarthy questioned why news media outlets had called the presidential race for Mr. Biden, who was leading by tens of thousands of votes in key battleground states, before learning the final results of contests in competitive House districts — many of those in deep-blue California and New York — where thousands of mail-in ballots remain uncounted.

“Why would you call the presidential race first?” he asked.

News outlets call races after analyzing returns and concluding the outcome is certain, and the results in the congressional races in which ballots are still being tabulated — all but a handful of them in states that Mr. Biden easily won — have no bearing on the presidential race.

Still, some Republicans were grasping for evidence of wrongdoing. Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina urged Mr. Trump to refuse to concede and fight on. He acknowledged, though, that a claim he circulated over the weekend that a postal worker was said to have overheard talk of what he believed was corruption taking place at a facility in Erie, Pa., remained unverified.

“Do not accept the media’s declaration of Biden,” Mr. Graham, the chairman of the Judiciary Committee, said on Fox News on Sunday morning. He called the election “contested” and urged: “Do not concede, Mr. President. Fight hard.”

Those comments reflected the advice of some of Mr. Trump’s top advisers, chiefly Rudolph W. Giuliani, his personal lawyer, who were urging him on Sunday to continue to fight the results.

A remarkably small number of Republicans called for the country to move on and acknowledged Mr. Biden’s victory. Among them were three governors of blue states — Charlie Baker of Massachusetts, Larry Hogan of Maryland and Phil Scott of Vermont — and fewer than a dozen House Republicans.

They included the centrist Representatives Tom Reed of New York and Fred Upton of Michigan; Representative Adam Kinzinger of Illinois, who has been an outspoken critic of Mr. Trump; and four lawmakers who will not be returning to Congress next year: Representatives Paul Mitchell of Michigan, Will Hurd of Texas and Francis Rooney of Florida, who are retiring, and Representative Denver Riggleman of Virginia, who lost his primary this year.

Representative Don Young of Alaska, whose race remains undecided after a re-election bid that was more difficult than expected, said he wished “the president-elect well in what will no doubt be the most challenging chapter of his political career.”

“It is time to put the election behind us, and come together to work for a better tomorrow for our nation,” Mr. Young said in a statement.

On “Fox News Sunday,” Mr. Romney provided a contrast to many of his Republican colleagues. He said that he believed it was “appropriate” for Mr. Trump to pursue recounts and legal challenges in certain battleground states, but cautioned against widespread condemnations of the American system of elections.

“It’s important for the cause of democracy and freedom that we don’t allege fraud and theft and so forth, unless there’s very clear evidence of that,” Mr. Romney said. “To date, that evidence has not been produced.”

Mr. Romney noted that he had had a legal team ready to challenge the results of the 2012 election when he was the Republican nominee, but decided not to go forward once he saw such efforts would be futile.

“At some point, truth, freedom and democracy have to ascend,” he said, “and you step aside.”

Phroyd

[musicollage]

Arve Henriksen. Towards Language, 2017. Rune Grammofon. ( Guitars, Electronics – Eivind Aarset )  ~ [  Album Review |      1) Pitchfork  +  2) All About Jazz  +    3) Headphone Commute   ]

1) Arve Henriksen makes jazz for people who like ambient music. This might sound like an unintentional insult—the Norwegian trumpeter is well trained and celebrated in jazz circles, and he often performs among Scandinavia’s most prominent younger players, such as Christian Wallumrød—but it’s also hard to deny. Towards Language, Henriksen’s ninth album under his own name, begins with a slumbrous murmur of bass and an unfurling trumpet theme, and this mesmeric register never wavers throughout the album. The melancholy saunter of Henriksen’s lines is isolated and sculpted by glimmering, whirring atmospheres full of emptiness and portent. Testing different ways to contrast eloquent material and enigmatic medium, the record plays like some lost collaboration between Wynton Marsalis and Brian Eno circa Ambient 4: On Land.

Henriksen’s long association with free-improv supergroup Supersilent and its influential label, Rune Grammofon, were his gateways to esteem in circles beyond jazz. But he has earned his wider attention with a trumpet tone so communicative it’s almost psychic, which he has described as being modeled on the breathy, insinuating timbre of a wooden flute. *Towards Language *would be the perfect album title imaginable for Henriksen if he hadn’t already made one called Chiaroscuro. Sometimes augmented by his ethereal vocalizations, his instrument always seems on the verge of speaking, writing a smoky legato calligraphy on the air. If the language is obscure, the emotions are instantly legible—romantic seclusion, piercing beauty, and a steadfast determination.

Henriksen is joined by Jan Bang and Erik Honoré, two old friends who’ve appeared on some of his greatest albums (Chiaroscuro, Cartography, Places of Worship), as well as the ECM-affiliated jazz guitarist Eivind Aarset. Together they gin up brooding, minimalist chamber music in which the simplest melodies whisper of unfathomable depths of feeling. The outstanding “Groundswell” is a dusky jungle seething with hidden birds and snakes, slow trap claps, and lapping waves of mysterious tonality, before Henriksen fills it up with his leafy curlicues and looping vines. “Demarcation Line” is a showpiece for his signature physics, how he swoons from interval to interval and bends pitches so sweetly it almost cuts.

*Towards Language *is also infused with a deep sense of history, like an excavation standing open in layers. It’s both personal—the atmosphere of “Hibernal” is tuned by a rusty harbor-bell clank, a device heard as far back as 2007’s Strjon, which suits Henriksen’s noir-ish style so well—and cultural. Album closer “Paridae,” turns a traditional song in the Kven language of Henriksen’s ancestral northern Norway (sung by Anna Maria Friman of Trio Mediaeval) into a waterfall leading to another world. Henriksen creates the feeling of an opaque jazz album you can walk right into, all timbre and feel instead of time and modality, the edges and angles sublimated into aching curves. You don’t need to be able to identify a head melody or count off arcane rhythms, but only to know the way you feel when you see fog slowly seeping through a valley, or smoke curling off a cigarette in the lonesome glow of a streetlight.

2) Following hot on the heels of Rimur (ECM, 2017), Towards Language is Arve Henriksen's second album of 2017 and brings his tally of releases to ten in the past five years. One of the more remarkable things about Henriksen is that even though the quantity of releases increases, their quality remains as high as ever. All of the hallmarks that make his music distinctive are still in place, as good as ever—the haunting melodies, soaring falsetto vocals and exquisitely beautiful trumpet. His sound is as individual as a fingerprint, the true mark of a great player.

Studio-recorded over two days in August 2016, Towards Language consists of nine tracks, of which the longest runs for just seven-and-a-half minutes. Such concentrated, economical music has typified Henriksen's output on such classic albums as Places of Worship (Rune Grammofon, 2013) and Chiaroscuro (Rune Grammofon, 2004). Henriksen has always stressed the importance of his collaborators in the creative process and, as on those two albums, here he is again joined by the team of Jan Bang and Erik Honoré of Punkt, the presence of whom is practically a guarantee of success. As before, the pair display their knack of constructing uncluttered environments that perfectly frame Henriksen and allow him to be heard to best advantage. Guitarist and electronicist Eivind Aarset is also present on every track and was involved in writing each one; he adds subtle shading without in any way deflecting the limelight from Henriksen.

Anna Maria Friman of Trio Mediaeval (with whom Henriksen recorded Rimur) sings on the album's closing track, "Paridae," a traditional "kven" or ancient Nordic song, her voice and Henriksen's trumpet combining in a perfect blend. On other tracks, it is left to his own voice and trumpet to conjure up an ambiguous mix of emotions that include melancholy and wistfulness. The end result is yet another stunningly beautiful set from Henriksen.

3) So here is how it goes… In terms of extended control of a single solo instrument, we’ve got Nils Frahm on the piano, Hildur Guðnadóttir on the cello, Mario Batkovic on the accordion, Andrea Belfi on the drums, and Arve Henriksen on the trumpet. [Please don’t all at once jump on me and point out other artists that I’ve missed or misplaced – this was more of a compliment and recognition of the above, versus an offensive statement to the ones I have omitted. Deal?] If you’ve been following these pages, and listening to the music contributing towards the evolution of this Norwegian trumpet player, then, at least you should agree, that, when it comes to breathy brass works, where the instrument completely merges with the voice, Henrikson is unlike any other.

I last visited with Henrikson’s music, released once again by Rune Grammofon, back in 2014, with Places Of Worship which derived its inspiration from the literal places of worship, sharing ten tone poems set around holy places. On his ninth album, Towards Language, we find this “major representative of a golden generation of Norwegian jazz musicians” supported by his longtime collaborators, Jan Bang and Erik Erik Honoré, as well as the “ECM-associated guitarist extraordinaire“, Eivind Aarset, exploring the language of music through the partnership with others. Improvised music, and in particular jazz music, has always established its own set of musical words, phrases, and sentences, exchanging ideas between each performer through predefined queues. A great example of that, of course, is none other than Miles Davis, who often recorded his sessions (like the Bitches Brew in 1969) without much advance notice or direction to the musicians.

“To express something on your own can be quite challenging at times.” says Henrikson, “I have for years been in creative collaborations with musicians and producers that have encouraged and inspired me. With this help and inspiration to discover new sounds and music, I have struggled and made my way to gradually be able to create some sort of language and a way of telling stories with my trumpet and singing. They have all coloured and gradually transformed me through different artistic timezones that I have passed through. All the information, concerts, discussions and impressions have had a significant impact on the process of gradually coming closer towards the core of communication through music.”

It’s fair to admit that I fail to recognize whether or not some of the music on Towards Language is improvisational or not, but what I can clearly hear is a conversation between the instruments sharing the same story. This conversation, of course, can not happen without a predefined lingo, without question and answer, without the space set to say something and, in turn, the space left to listen. It’s probable, that as an active listener, conveyed through this musical account, I, too, become part of the language, interpreting tales, narration, and chronicles, as they fit into my own sound-colored world, where certain notes trigger a feeling, a memory, or a response deeply buried inside my own psyche. For this to succeed, the artist’s ability to properly communicate must be splendid. And as a listener, I’m part of the music, of course, because, without language, the message is lost.