#she does this in public hence the funny looks

[iunctura-a]

"When you're holding a conversation with your mentor and people look at you funny...."

"I'm just asking him what kind of drinks to buy. But of course, I'm 'crazy' for 'talking to myself'...."

[milkywayes]

As someone who greatly enjoys your turian HCs and given your recent art, I must ask: How do you think Garrus feels about dressing up? Does Shep enjoy seeing him all gussied up? Was he that teen with the turian equivalent of logo tees and beanies? Did his parents dress up for Hierarchy events given Castis’ tier?

ooooh hell yeah thanks for the questions, i love this. gonna be a long one

my thoughts/HCs are as thus:

generally speaking, at least for heterosexual relationships turian women are the ones to approach a potential partner and the males will attempt attracting them by looking good / having a good reputation and accomplishments. long fringes are supposed to impress, hence why only the men evolved them, but it would make sense to me that they’d try to dress up even more to better their chances. picture men in a turian bar posing and wearing their finest outfits to stand out. hell, even turian armor is kind of fancy compared to what other species don. their civvies are very elaborate. it tracks.

but then there’s garrus, who… is just not very interested in all that. i like imagining that the ‘bad turian’ thing goes beyond not being an obedient soldier. so he does not enjoy dressing up. he’s never actively tried attracting a partner like that, and he got shepard without trying, even if he’s still not sure how he pulled that off. to say he’s out of his depth and feeling awkward is an understatement. he got the high rank in the hierarchy in the least straight-forward way imaginable, probably without precedent. he stumbled his way sideways into this gig by uhhh being himself, which is an uncompromising maverick idealist, and by trying to do right by shepard and their mission. not by acting how other turians expected him to.

shepard enjoys it, which is probably the only redeeming factor to garrus. a good chunk of that enjoyment is mirth because she loves when garrus is feeling awkward. it’s a big contrast to his usual confidence and swagger, which she also loves, but rarity’s a factor and she’s gonna take any entertainment she can get from attending these shit functions. (she’s going in utilitarian dress blues, suit and pants combo herself. no jewelry. you can’t make her. lmfao.) that said, he also looks hot in that getup. no complaints from her. or anyone else in attendance. she could point this out to garrus but he wouldn’t believe her. he can be an arrogant bastard, even after getting the scars, but he’s already feeling insecure about his place in the hierarchy and at the event, so there’s none of that right now. at least not for the first half hour. he catches her ogling him a couple times and that does end up boosting his confidence.

as a teen i think he just wore uniforms. i can’t imagine that turian schools don’t have uniforms. i don’t think he’d have had the interest to modify them, he’d have put that energy elsewhere (weapons mods. lol), so you wouldn’t have been able to tell just from looking at him that he’s a bit of a weirdo. but you’d notice fast enough upon meeting him. maladjusted child/teen garrus is important to me. he was lucky he was cute and got good grades.

as for his parents… castis wouldn’t be on palaven often enough to attend lots of hierarchy functions, and while i think mama vakarian had a very respectable tier for her age, only the real high ups who had to impress and be seen by the public really attend galas and such. the couple they did go to, they’d have dressed up, but maybe not as much as i dressed garrus up in that drawing - castis was no advisor to the primarch, and my headcanon for him says he prefers things to be utilitarian. a ‘let my work speak for itself’ kind of guy. he’ll do all that is required, and he’ll be meticulous about it, but he has no love for extravagance.

the funny thing is, castis and garrus are very alike in some ways but then their respective belief systems diverge so heavily that the things they have in common end up working against each other / their relationship lol. they both live for their ideals, they’re stubborn as all get out, they don’t do things just to appease other people.

garrus has more of a swagger though. and he’ll be extravagant - but mostly when showing off his sniping skills. put dangly, sparkly chains on him and he’ll act like a hapless cat that just had something put on their body against their will.

[mystargirl-interlude]

heyyyyyyyyy, thx for following me I was wondering if you could do a request where Xavier meets the reader as Wednesday’s sister and they date behind her back before she finds out and Enid has to convince her to be okay with it.

hiii thank you so much for your request I hope this if fulfills your expectations!!

I was listening to thunder while writing this so if you want the full experience listen to thunder

Requested: yes

Warning: none I don’t think?

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

Word count: 941

Proofread: no

Thunder

completely moving schools because your twin decided it would be fun to try and kill a group of jocks isn't all that fun.

I was completely fine staying at the school we were at but when Wednesday got expelled I got expelled with her for not doing anything to stop her.

We ended up getting thrown in the same school mother and father went to Nevermore boarding .

Me and Wednesday are fraternal twins hence why we look nothing alike despite us not looking anything alike doesn't mean we are complete opposites I just tend to show more emotions which is why switching to Nevermore had such an impact on me.

Once we pulled into the driveway to the castle like school my I could feel my stomach twist with nerves while my parents looked ecstatic about us living the life they once lived

After zoning out most of the car ride I finally came back to my senses

"This looks like a hell hole" were the first words to come out of my mouth

"I would have to agree sister" says Wednesday with a deathly look in her eyes

"Come on girls you can continue on the Addams name" mother says

"And live in your shadow?" Me and Wednesday say in sync as a rhetorical question

I tend to disassociate quite often and didn't start paying attention until we were with some blonde girl named Enid

"That over there is Bianca the closest thing nevermore has to royalty, but lately her crowns been slipping, she used to date Nevermore's tortured artist Xavier Thorpe" she says pointing over to his direction

I see a long haired male painting what it looks like crows I can't seem to look away as he turn around as we make eye contact and unfortunately as Enid continues her tour I have to be the first to break it.

That leads us to where we are now

*two months later*

“Do you think if Wednesday caught us she would be mad?”

“It’s unpredictable when it comes to Wednesday”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Me and Xavier entered the weathervane making our presence known with the little bell above the door

“Go sit down I’ll order” he says

This was a weekly ritual for us, since we can’t be public about our relationship yet this was the only way we had alone time

I look up to see Xavier come my way

“Okay here’s your drink”

“Thank you” I smile

“Do you ever wish that we didn’t have to sneak off every time we want to be together?” He asks

“Yeah.. all the time, but I don’t know what would happen if we didn’t. Like I know the world won’t blow up, but I just don’t want my sister to hate me.”

“Let’s talk about something else”

I replied

“Did you hear that Eugene has a crush on Enid???”

I say

“No fucking way”

I nod

“That’s actually hilarious, isn’t he like 13?”

He says

“Yeah! I kinda feel bad but it’s too funny”

He chuckled as he reached over to softly kiss me.

We stay like that for a while paying no mind to the bell ring announcing someone walking in

“Does someone want to explain what is going on or am I going to have to bring out my ropes”

I hear a familiar voice say

“WEDNESDAY”

Xavier says breaking apart from my lips clearly shocked

I look over to see Wednesday standing in front of our table tense with her eye twitching next to a very confused enid

“Uhm Wednesday I promise I can explain-“

“Can you?” She cuts me off

“I’ll wait”

“Wednesday maybe we should just leave them be they looked like they were happy” Enid says trying to grab Wednesday

“Touch me again and I will make sure your hand never gets to touch anything again”

Wednesday say

“Mm” Enid squeals

“Wednesday I know you don’t like this school or anyone in it but I do, I really do and I enjoy hanging out with everyone and I enjoy the classes and I enjoy the people and quite frankly I really like Xavier.”

You say

“I am going to go back to the dorms. I do not want to see either one of you.” Wednesday says as she walks out

“Im so sorry, I’ll talk to her” Enid cringes as she quickly catches us to Wednesday

“Oh god oh god” I rub my hands over my face

“Hey shes your sister she’s not going to be mad forever” Xavier says

“ you clearly don’t know Wednesday, she holds grudges for forever” I sigh

A few hours later

We were all in Wednesday and Enid shared dorm room

“ Wednesday whether you like it or not your sister is going to find someone she loves and someone who loves her back and even if you don’t want that to happen it’s going to be the same for you” Enid says

Wednesday slowly looks up and this is the most emotion I’ve seen her have other than when her scorpion died but it quickly goes away as her face hardens and she quickly walks towards Xavier

She gets really close to him as she quietly says

“If you ever hurt her I will tie you up and make sure you have a slow excruciating death” she says just loud enough for Xavier to hear.

Xavier quickly nods as Wednesday gives him a side eye and nods towards me.

I smile as I see her walk out

“Well, personally I think that went well” I said as Enid nods in agreement

“Uh yeah sure” Xavier says, scratching the back of his head.

[capoteera]

4days ago

CapT:

Like tell us, when does Sacrifice wrap then huh? Because the crew member posted Day 11 of 47, making the filming go until November 15th.

Rogers:

Looks like they are on day 11 of 47. Safe to assume filming ends November 15.

Yesterday/today:

Capt:

If a crew person said loosely "3 months" they're gonna be in the hotel, then again, there's multiple UNITS people, Greece is also next door to Bulgaria, so you'll just have to wait and see.  

He’s filming in Bulgaria until December - test me on that one 

Sorry I know we shouldn’t give Capt and her crew any time of day but this point out some inconsistencies. First they were the ones to claim it finished in November based on a crew member then changed it to Dec based on a hotel staff comment. Test her it’s not even her information what’s to test.

So just goes to show they do in fact know nothing about the shitty movie they can to not be interested in.

Now don’t get me started on the immigration status as someone who has worked with many different types of visa nothing is as straight forward as it says on the website. Every situation is different. Example a foreign national living in LA married her American fiancé in PT and then travelled back to the US within a month and has travelled in and out of the country since. They got their green card 6 months after their marriage. (any guesses who🤭) Then you have 2 American celebrities marrying foreign actress in 2 ceremonies in US and overseas. One married in Vegas then travelled to France for another ceremony before return US and again traveling in and out of the US. Another married overseas first and once again travelled back to the US soon afterwards and continued to travel. I don’t remember anyone questioning their visa status and I know some just refuse to acknowledge what visa AB had at the time because it doesn’t fit their narrative hence why they scream she has no US reps. (funny her last 2 movies are by US production companies)As for marriage certificate who’s to say they even lodge it in MA and just did PT? For all their screaming it’s not as easy especially PT to obtain and let’s face it if PR found it there is no way they are going to produce it. First it exposes the fact they lied to officials about why they required it and their real details would be officially recorded.

Yes Capt you can share your ‘husbands’ experience but again I can give you a hundred different ones. The point is you can’t guess what an actress’s status is and say with confidence what it is. Now as to the latest claim:

I don’t get or know why you all don’t get shit . Most PR stunts are public two years.

Count fucking backwards and get back to me . And NO, crumbs don’t count. Public! Public means revealed …. God . I’m not explaining it again.

One from their ‘anon’:

I myself remember regina actually theorizing this would be 2 years public . that makes it November 10 that it hits that mark doesn't it? maybe these fucks should just go hang out on the edge of a cliff. Just be sure not to sneeze.  Now according to Capt this was meant to be over April 2023, then July 2023, then September 2023 then it was oh he signed another contract because of the strike then July 2024 it ended and there was a small window of opportunity to end it. Then it moved out to 14 October then end of October now it’s Nov the 2 year anniversary of reveal. Once again claiming they don’t care and saying they don’t know when it’s coming no one does but Chris and the ‘writers’ but now:

None of us care because we know that’s coming and when.

So guess we will see what happens and I see it’s back to calling him coke head.

Let’s just also point out Capt has been wrong more than right with her claims and she has made some pretty obvious blunders which long time Chris fans quickly picked up on. Let’s say about the wedding there is more evidence to something happening in MA and PT with family and friends in the locations and people saying they were there and pics from friends/family at the locations. And don’t start about the weather if a friggin MLB game could be played late afternoon/night & his niece can have a petting zoo outside under a tent supposedly on his front lawn then a wedding could take place add on he and his sisters were meant to have been seen out and about that day.🤦🏻‍♀️

Thank you for this! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

[ugh154628]

June 2019 - "Cece" taking advantage of my lude/nude photos for "revenge"

Part 1

I posted lingerie photos on my tumblr (without my face in them) and she proceeded to save those photos from my profile, by obviously creeping on me and looking at it (can't stress that enough, she was creeping on me herself), and then, claimed to sell them to others, attached my real full name to them (I didn't have my real name on my tumblr, only she knew it was mine), and printed one of the photos on coffee mug - to get some weird form of revenge on me for it. Now, my issue wasn't with people seeing them or her saving my photos (as weird as that was) so much as it was her ill intent with them. The copyright issue of her selling things that weren't hers for money was also an issue. Like excuse me, if anyone should be making money of of those it should be me. And secondly, it's pretty fake and scammy in general to sell public pictures that aren't even her's, and without that person's consent AND with vengeful intentions. I would say that kind of does constitute as revenge porn.

It was fraudulent. It was harassment. It was gross. It was creepy. And there was no excuse for this behavior.

And here's even more posts about it.

I posted a screenshot of the first post below both when it her account name was still "chelseyvecchio" and when she changed it to "harrowheart" to cover her ass later. As well as posts regarding the situation when she first changed her account name to "kindredjellybean". Nope, she isn't going to get around being exposed by simply changing her username multiple times.

So, here ya go:

And here is the photo she posted of the mug she made with one of my pictures:

Like yes, that is totally normal and excusable behavior. To not only save lude photos of your exes new girlfriend, but to spend money to get one custom printed on a coffee mug. And then, choose the picture in which your ex you're clearly hung up on grabbing her ass. And not only that, the put the label "best friends" on it. And then, put it on a shelf dedicated to enemy trophies in your room to look at every day. Funny thing id that "cheater's calico" was from an ex she dated years ago. It was a bottle she left at her house and then drank and obsessed over enough to use a decor in her room apparently. Sam told me she kept it for years, like literal years.

So, this is not at all creepy and obsessive, right? Uhm, I think yes.

Yes, it is. It's sick and discomforting on an extremely high level.

More context to each screenshot of "Cece's" posts about me:

Screenshot #1: Notice how in the "Oh dear" post she is indirectly to Sam ("Ricky") and refers to me as "she", implying that she is blaming me for HIS actions. Hence, him creeping on her and accidentily liking her posts as well as posting responses in french at her after she did that. Yeah, because that's MY fault. Ight.

SS #2: Body shaming, body shaming, and more body shaming. Which she started actually. So, she can shut the fuck up about that red post I made. She is no better. And at least I stopped that behavior a long time ago. Literally started as soon as it ended on my end. She still goes off about my body and appearance even more and WORSE than I did or she even did back then, to this day.

SS #3: She claims she's my "pimp", which is just really fucking weird. While vaguely warning she is about to print my pictures on a coffee mug.

SS #4/#5: Just her bragging about her "cliental" basis in selling my pictures increasing. What is mostly relevant to that one is the post comparison, the date on it, and the account name change.

SS #6: She says stuff about her previous romantic/sexual relations with Sam to step on me for some reason. It didn't bother me how she thought it would. It was just distasteful and creepily obsessive. And it ultimately, just says a lot about her shitty character. And then, she brags about making $125 off my pictures and dehumanizes me calling me a "product".

SS #7: She brags about making money from my pictures to pay her bills. Because she was apparently too broke to pay them without selling -someone else's- pictures, which I find really funny.

SS #8/#9: Just some screenshots to prove when she changed her account name to "kindredjellybean" to again, save her own ass covering her identity doing all this shit.

SS #10: The coffee mug....with my ass printed on it...labeled "best friends"...next to her other "enemy trophies"...on a decorative shelf in her room....that she hangs her jackets on and directly looks at every day. But, it's me that was obsessed? Lmao, ight.

Next post here:

[pollenallergie]

i was actually brainstorming a completely different ask, but thought i’d share my thoughts on billy’s favorite things. i established in a different ask that i think he’s really good with his hands (heh) and as such, does carpentry for work. in my mind, it gives him flexibility and quiets his brain. he likes the smell and the feeling of the wood, and although he doesn’t like loud noises, he doesn’t mind the sound of his tools because they’re consistent. his favorite things to work on are nurseries, kitchens, and porch spaces as these allow for subtle but whimsical statement pieces in addition to more generic items. continuing on, i also have decided that he fell in love with music from the 60s and 70s on old cassettes at group homes. he loves the beatles, simon and garfunkle, linda ronstadt, and any other older bands, so he learned to play guitar. his voice is soft and a bit rough when he sings, but he’s remarkable for a self taught guitar player. he only learned to read music in his late teens/early twenties, so before that he was going by ear and has developed a good sense of relative pitch. billy’s too scared to sing around anyone but you until you guys have kids, and you feel so lucky to have that privilege. my final thought for things he would be interested in is history, particularly of agricultural england. even though it bores most people to death, he could tell you about the changes in machinery or old fashioned dairy cow care, but you always listen and engage with his rants. he enjoys animals, and struggles to live in the city, so he wants to know as much about where he lives in the country as he can. imagine taking him to a museum centered on agriculture and his face lights up and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him in public without him ticking relentlessly or shrinking in on himself. i am so devoted to billy it isn’t even funny sgsgagagagagvaabsgavav -🍊

Oh yeah, Billy definitely loves carpentry. Really, he loves any activity where he can create something beautiful and intricately detailed with his own two hands. The desire to create is strong in Billy Knight (hence the breeding kink). Like Tom Grant, Billy has dabbled in many different trades, both for work and for his own personal enjoyment. Unlike Tom, he hasn’t simply stuck to the traditional, blue-collar trades. Sure, he’s quite skilled in things like carpentry and painting (in the blue-collar sense, like painting walls or signs), and he definitely does those for work sometimes. However, he’s also dabbled in pottery, gardening, painting (in the more traditional sense, like painting with the intention to create art), crotcheting, sculpting, jewelry-making, other types of woodworking (like woodcarving, woodturning, etc.), candlemaking, soap making, and even basket weaving.

Though he’s never been very confident, and he’s always been socially anxious, he’s never really had a problem with attending hobby and crafting classes at his local community centres by himself. As a kid, Billy’s mum used to take him with her to her knitting classes, but, even after she passed, he always found a way to get himself down to the local community arts centre in his village so that he could take whatever classes, most of which were either free to the public or were quite cheap, his little heart desired. While his brother, Jimmy (*gags*), spent his youth playing footie and chumming it up with all the rich kids in the area, Billy spent his youth hanging out with the elderly ladies that frequent the Woolstone Village Centre for the Arts and learning to do things like woodcarving, quilting, and pottery.

Billy also spent his youth exploring the historical sites in Woolstone, so he’s definitely a massive history nerd. He loves looking at architecture from different cultures and historical periods. Like you mentioned, my sweet 🍊 nonnie, he also loves learning about historical agricultural practices, but not just ones from Britain. No, Billy loves learning about ancient agriculture from all different cultures. In fact, the reason why he got so into ancient agriculture in this first place is that, in primary school, he learned about the early crop irrigation practices used in Egypt and Mesopotamia, saw an illustration of what farming looked like in those days, and immediately thought, ‘I want to go there, I want to do that. I don’t want to be a little boy in Oxfordshire, I want to be a farmer in Mesopotamia.’ Honestly, Billy's just a really big anthropology nerd… and an archeology nerd… and a paleontology nerd… and an animal enthusiast. One of the best trips Billy’s ever been on, in his opinion, was the trip you two took for his birthday last year. For that brief holiday, you both took a train to Cambridge and spent an entire week there just exploring, going to the Sedgwick Museum of Earth Sciences, Cambridge University’s Museum of Zoology, Cambridge University’s Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, Kettle’s Yard, (really to just every museum and art gallery, except for the ones about like the history of computing and mathematics), Cambridge University’s Botanical Gardens, whatever nature reserves are in the area, any nearby accredited wildlife parks/zoos, etc.

I also headcanon that, as a dad, Billy starts turning the fun stories he makes up for his daughter at bedtime every night into actual children’s books, which, of course, he does all the illustrations for. At first, he simply creates them for her, only selling a couple on his Etsy page to help make ends meet when money gets tight. However, one of his Etsy customers shows his work to a publication company, and, before Billy knows it, his children’s books are being published by a major UK publisher and distributed to and sold in countries across the globe. Billy continues creating these stories and getting them published so that he can help contribute financially more, all while still being a stay-at-home dad to his little girl and a househusband to you (both of which are, truly, all he’s ever really wanted to be). He still dabbles in other creative endeavors like woodworking and crotcheting, but only for his own enjoyment, not for some financial gain. The good thing about being a children’s book author, other than the fact that it allows him to work on his own schedule and to work from home, is that it doesn’t really feel like work to him. Billy's been creating whimsical stories in his head ever since he was a boy, and he’s been drawing the characters he creates for these stories and specific scenes from these stories for just as long. Who would’ve thought he could’ve been making such good money all this time if he’d only started writing down and properly illustrating the silly little stories in his mind sooner??

Also, YES YESS BIG YESS to your music headcanons!! He loves retro/vintage music!!! Billy’s a big fan of the Temptations (he’s convinced the Ruffin brothers revolutionized music and, you know what, he’s right), he’s a massive Paul McCartney fan (He once saw Paul getting coffee at a café in Chelsea once and nearly lost his goddamn mind. Did he go up and say hello to him? No, of course not, he didn’t want to bother the man… So he fangirled from afar, like a respectable person would do), he lovesss Simon and Garfunkel (he’s more partial to Paul Simon than Art Garfunkel, truth be told), he loves Marvin Gaye, big fan of Cat Stevens as well. He loves more modern music too, but I’ll discuss that later…. (along with maybe some of his other interests???)

And YEAHHH, the only people who will ever hear him sing are his mum (may she rest in peace), you, your daughter (and your other kids, should you choose to have more), and the family pets (another thing I shall discuss later…).

Sorry for all the teases (like about the pets you and Billy have, and the other types of music he listens to)… I’m keeping some cards close to my chest rn because I know I’ll want to write about them in more detail later…

Thank you so much for sending in your thoughts and headcanons about Billy!!! I always love reading what your brilliant mind comes up with! 🫶🏼💖

[aeltri]

Do you really think famous people are sending you asks?

Even if all you say is true, isn't it a bit far fetched that every mean anon is them ?

Genuinely asking, like how do you even know ?? I love the theorizing and the whole "Ben Cumberbatch is a MKU tool" is funny but why and how does a random civilian such as you and others on here know this stuff ?!

All your links bring me to those antisemitic illuminati ThEy ConTroL thE bAnkS QAnon and adjacent bullshit and the other half is weird transphobic stuff, it's kinda hard to believe the rest y'know?

(I do believe that the 1% does control things because with that much money how could they not, but the whole illuminati shit is ugh, billionaires are right there shitting on us but y'all are obsessed with an old conspiracy theory it's WEIRD man !

Have a good day!

(also out of topic but where does your pfp come from, the character is so familiar but I can't put a finger as to why lol)

LOL, one of my relatives is a "famous person" with millions of fans. NEWSFLASH: Celebrities aren't demigods, they're people who won the fame lottery. Most are rather ordinary outside of the public sphere. "Mean Anon" has been doxxed, her name is Joanna Blake and she works at the University of Sussex. UoS just so happens to be a Tavistock center. Tavistock is basically the RL Ministry of Truth and is deeply involved with brainwashing techniques such as MKUltra. All of this is very well-documented and talent alone is rarely enough to get you to the top. Especially in politics and showbiz, having a certain pedigree and MKUltra programming gives you a leg up. How do I know what I do? Thanks to extensive research and leaks from inside contacts. I was selected from among the top 1.5% for GATE, if my parents hadn't been overprotective I could have been MKd. At least two of my friends were subjected to TBMC and are going to need therapy for the rest of their life. One of them had a grandfather who came to the US via Project Paperclip, the whole family spoke German. Before you start accusing others of "antisemitism" you may want to take a look at how the ADL is faring. Many groups have been the victims of genocide but only one keeps using it as a free pass to lord over and censor others. If Zionists were singled out by the Nazis why did they turn around and behave just like them towards the Palestinians? Because they are two sides of the same Saturnian coin, Black Cube/Black Sun. I've talked about how many modern Jews aren't Hebrew or even Semitic, being mostly descended from converts. The most destructive schism in Judaism was the Sabbatean-Frankist heresy that arose in the late 1600s. Rabbi Antelman explained how it took his people down a very dark path that has dire implications for all of humanity. Turns out an antinomian doomsday cult hell bent on bringing about the end times has a bad influence on society. Who'd a thunk? This subject is of particular interest because of our ancestral ties to Moises De Leon, author of the Zohar. It is considered the greatest Kabbalistic treatise of all time but I'm pretty sure he would be horrified by modern "mysticism". Many of the bizarre beliefs espoused by occultists like the inversion of everything (not just gender) are a deliberate corruption of what he taught. As for the world power structure? Most politicians you see are just frontmen, it's all optics to pacify the plebs with an illusion of democracy. The same ol' ruling families hoarded so much wealth that they're still running the show BTS. It should also come as no surprise that many behave like the Borgias 🙄...

PS: Aeltri is the name of a Light Elf from Marvel's Thor. My PFP is based on a LOTR comic strip about Noldor grudges, hence the Burn Book.

[soul-wanderer]

The Noel Diary (a brief and belated review) (okay, we all know this won’t be brief, because these reviews are not ever brief)

The Good:

- Barrett being her usual cute self and a literal light in the darkness of this season

- Barrett singing, incredible as usual

- A cute dog, can’t ever go wrong with that

- Small town christmas vibes, kinda cute, even if it’s also kitschy

- The neighbour lady and her date/boyfriend, 10/10 would ship it again

- “If you said there was only one room left, this would be like a rom-com” was, again, kitschy, but given the tone of this movie I’ll allow it and give it a brief chuckle

- For half of this movie, Barrett’s (aka Rachel’s) outfits and hair were on point (you guess where you will find the other half of the movie)

- The overall somewhat diversity in this movie. I say that in direct comparison to Hallmark movies, because this movie definitely fits the Hallmark stereotype, even though it’s produced by Netflix, hence the attempt at diversity (hello menorah in the hospital and random gay folks and PoC)

The Not So Good:

- Why did he get the fireplace started that probably hasn’t been cleaned in forever

- How was that piano sounding so good? Mum was a hoarder and I assure you that piano hasn’t been professionally tuned in what? 20 years? Yeah, there’s no way that piano still played a single straight note

- I cannot officially criticise the stereotypes/clichés in a Netflix Hallmark movies, but if I could: goddamnit, they really shoved a lot of those down their viewer’s throats (white shirt in the rain, impromptu jam session, woman choosing the wrong guy, lonely writer, suddenly being alone at a public event, only one bedroom left, father and son reconnecting in an awkward manner, dude randomly showing up at her house and looking up at the window, and so on)

- Dude really needs a leash for his dog

- Why did Dude and father leave Rachel waiting in the cold car for so long? And how did they survive sleeping in a cold af car?

- Who messed up Barrett’s hair and outfits in the second half of the movie?! Choices were made and they were not good choices, at all

The Bad:

- His weird stalking when she accidentally left the connecting door of their hotel rooms ajar. Seriously, wtf

- Dude looking for/meeting up with Rachel’s biological mother?! That looked a lot like overstepping boundaries, what was he trying to achieve anyway?

- We see him meeting her bio mum but not her?! Which makes this extra strange

- I don’t want to make assumptions here, but I feel like the bio mum was miscast looks wise (not acting wise, the acting was great) and I have a thought or two about the process

- Dude showing up at her house on christmas day/eve, despite fucking knowing that she’s still engaged. It might have been cute if she had been single, but she wasn’t. What was he trying to achieve there? Yeah, she cheated on her fiance and they were obviously trying to reconcile, but even if she chose the safe option over the “being happy” option, it wasn’t his place to insert himself into their relationship like that. That’s not cool, guys (gender neutral), so please don’t ever do that. Write a letter, for what it’s worth, but don’t basically stalk an engaged person

- The final parts seemed rushed, mostly because they spent too much time fulfilling clichés, but I wasn’t expecting a cinematic masterpiece anyway

In Conclusion:

It’s a Hallmark movie, only it is not because it’s produced by Netflix. But don’t be fooled, it’s still very much a Hallmark movie. Watch it if you generally like Hallmark movies but are fed up with the overall whiteness and lack of diversity of Hallmark movies. Or watch it if you generally hate Hallmark movies but are willing to watch some kitsch for the holidays (or any other day of the year). Don’t expect too much plot wise but other than that it does have it’s sweet/cute/funny moments and Barrett’s performance is a solid 9/10, but that’s due to the fact that no one can genuinely portray that many clichés without it looking a little, well, cliché. Overall it’s an easy watch and despite hating Christmas and Hallmark movies (I know, I know), I did not have a terrible time watching this, so that probably speaks for itself

[stars-tonight]

if you would like a long or short matchup (short will take less time and will only include the character; long will probably include a few headcanons)

Long please!!

1. if you would like a platonic (like friends) or romantic (couple) matchup

1. Romantic please!

2. gender / pronouns

1. Female, she/her/hers

3. if you would like to be paired with a girl or guy

1. Guy please :)

4. your ideal partner (at least three traits)

1. My ideal partner would love me the way that I love them. I think when people say to couples “oh the way he just looks at you you can tell he’s head over heels” is the sweetest thing ever. I would need someone to be understanding and patient with me, I tend to be more introverted, and am prone to forgetting super important things a lot. (Birthdays, answering texts, first day of work, even forgot what day my mom went in for a big surgery-) I also need someone that I can goof off with, and I don’t feel judged by. So the simple answer, someone who is kind, funny, gives me heart eyes on occasion, and incredibly patient.

5. a description of yourself (at least three traits)

1. I am like a little ball of anxiety but people say I don’t show it much. In reality I’m at home, not allowing myself to drink caffeine and meditating, journaling or doing yoga just to get my brain to be quiet. I overthink a lot, and also forget things pretty often too. I am pretty introverted, my battery drains quickly when I’m somewhere new and don’t know anyone. However, I’ve been told I am very patient, sweet and kind with others. I am my own harshest critic, and will work myself beyond burnout if someone doesn’t stop me. I am caring, and have been told I tend to be the mom friend in the sense that I give good advice. I also am heavy on the routine aspect, and hate getting knocked out of it. If anything goes wrong I tend to try to go with the flow, but that requires me to have a quiet minute to myself to breathe properly and hype myself up.

6. hobbies (let’s aim for at least two?)

1. Reading

1. I tend to gravitate towards romance books, hence the hopeless romantic in me coming out

2. I also like memoirs as well

2. Playing my switch

1. Most games I play are similar to animal crossing or stardew valley with no end goal

2. I do like breath of the wild and tears of the kingdom, I’ll play games with stories it’s just hard for me because I’m so exhausted all the time :”)

3. Does watching tv/movies count?

4. Cooking (not as good at baking but I love sweet treats)

7. your love languages (giving and receiving)

1. Giving - words of affirmation and acts of service

2. Receiving - quality time and words of affirmation

8. anything else you want to include (the more detail the better!)

1. I am pretty average height with short brown hair and brown eyes. I am currently going to grad school at night, working at a daycare during the day, and am soon getting a job on weekends so I’m just tired 24/7. However, the grad school is to become a teacher one day, and the daycare tends to remind me why I’m doing all of this, just seeing the kids smile makes me so happy. I love helping other people out, and am a huge people pleaser. I tend to stress myself out more than anything else, and have talked myself into freaking out over something small. I cry at almost everything, happy tears, sad tears, angry tears, but never in public, I hold it until I’m alone most times. I love to workout but I haven’t had the energy as of lately, even if I am known for having a high amount of energy, having things to take care of 24/7 with no break really wears you out. I love to hype people up, and put smiles on peoples faces, even if they’re not always nice to me I kill people with kindness. (I am well known for also being able to be fake to the right people to get myself places, but hate doing it)

headcanons

🥛 yamaguchi gives heart eyes for sure

🥛 even before the relationship starts

🥛 he'll be looking at you from across the room, head propped up on hand, dreamy smile, the whole deal

🥛 tsukishima will have to elbow him to get him to pay attention to anything

🥛 yamaguchi also strikes me as patient

🥛 has to put up with tsukishima after all

🥛 your biggest quiet hypeman

🥛 isn't the type to do big gestures in public

🥛 but when you're at home or it's just the two of you he'll give you a really nice pep talk

🥛 he wears his heart on his sleeve and as a result is great with words

🥛 always knows how to cheer you up, whether it's with words or time spent together

🥛 likes more chill dates or hangouts

🥛 loves reading together, watching shows, or cooking

🥛 will sometimes play video games with you although he's not obsessed with them

🥛 yamaguchi can sometimes also be a ball of anxious energy so he needs someone to calm him down

🥛 just hearing your voice as you talk to him makes him feel better though

🥛 is very pleasantly surprised by anything you do for him

🥛 100% gushes about you to the whole karasuno team

🥛 post-timeskip, he's in school

🥛 will call you every night and chat for hours

🥛 whenever he's on break he is RUNNING back to you

🥛 misses you so much whenever he's away

🥛 because he's also in school, he knows how stressful student life can be

🥛 although he can't imagine how much is on your plate since you do so much during the day too

🥛 always reminds you to take it easy

🥛 if he senses that you're feeling more stressed out than usual, he'll go out of his way to send you encouraging messages

🥛 if he's on break for school and has to go back, and he knows you're having a tough time, he'll probably set up something like a little treasure hunt for you

🥛 every "treasure" is a note from him with a super sweet message like "i love your smile when you're working with the kids"

runner up for you was akaashi keiji!

A/N: there you go, i hope you liked it! a reminder to take a break if you need it! i know it can be hard but make sure you eat, drink water, get some sunshine! hope you feel better soon 🫶

[gojosglasses2]

Saw this article on Buzzsumo, it had the bare amount of research or detail on it so let’s find out the story.

Typing her name into google I was able to find her twitter account, it was posted two days ago. Her tweets since that one have no mention of the breakup to where they were or what they were doing. However she does state several times in her replies that the guy apparently knew she dressed like this and still dated her. She says he knew her his whole life in her replies. A couple of days before the viral tweet, she talks about how someone likes “baddies” but can’t keep up, a little foreshadowing to their breakup.

I have no indication of where they were or if the tweet itself is accurate since it comes from an ‘unreliable source’ but it is funny to see how she tweeted about how he couldn't handle her and then broke up a couple days later. Maybe the story is made up for clout, hence why the news source couldn’t write much about her. I commend her internet safety.

[adultswim2021]

Robot Chicken #54: “Losin' the Wobble” | November 4, 2007 - 11:30PM | S03E12

Hey! You don’t REALLY want me to talk about sketches from Robot Chicken episode “Losin’ the Wobble”, now do ya? Wait, you do? Okay, fine. 

There’s one where Encyclopedia Brown follows his dad to a seedy hotel and takes pictures of him having sex with a prostitute. Boy, I don’t remember that happening on Encyclopedia Brown! Hence, the humor! I do like when the dad is like “most strippers get mad when you assume they are prostitutes” and she’s like “well I definitely am one”. Or something like that. I don’t know. I’m looking for ANYTHING to talk about, here. A line I sorta liked. I might as well bring it up here. If not now, when?

Some more nasty laughs from the Chicken boys: We got a sketch about a big robot Michael Jackson being GAY!!! FOR A CHILD! What’s worse is that Michael Jackson has passed away. There’s also a Hansel and Gretel thing where they are mean to the witch in the candy house but it turns out she wasn’t a witch. Also notable is the runner where the Kool-Aid man keeps showing up in inconvenient places, like causing a hull breach in a space station or destroying the safehouse of two zombie apocalypse survivors. Those a brief and not terrible.

The bulk of the episode is towards the end, with a very lengthy sketch that skewers both the 1983 TV Miniseries V and – what else? FREAKING DRUNK-ASS CELEBRITIES GOING TO REHAB HAHAHAHA! I hate this sketch. I hate the idea of mocking people with substance abuse problems. At the time of this episode’s airing, I think most people were on board with the idea that mocking addicts was punching down and not funny, but rationalized that mocking celebrities or public figures was a different beast and stuff like this was usually seen as okay. The most important thing to me is that the instinct to mine comedy from celebrity foibles does nothing for me, and I hate it! Too rude!

MAIL BAG

From Kon!

Thank you for the excellent Williams Street Records writeup, it answers every question the fans want to know about this Adult Swim rarity... except for one. Is this the first Adult Swim infomercial? Or does that ignominious honor belong to Bob (Belcher) and David?

Thank you Kon, wow, one wonders! Also thank you for not yelling at me for forgetting to upload this post last night when I was busy watching Bio-Dome over AIM. As to your question, When I was much, much younger I remember Bill Tush airing many commercial parodies on WTBS at, let’s see, 4am. Uh-oh. I ripped the shit out of that.

[sscarletvenus]

unloading some gun thoughts that have been on my mind :

- he's really the public enemy #1 of lookism universe huh he has pissed off everybody and their momma under the sun : johan, eli, jake, daniel, kenta DAMN

- he's reluctant BESTIES with crystal choi. like he says he doesn't care what she does as long as he doesn't lose his job but even staring at her funny means HE WILL DECK YOU

- he's an awesome oppa to soojung. the BEST actually.

- he seems the type to listen to japanese orchestral court music (雅楽) or SNSD there's no in betwen. jk tho he probably listens to Drake lol

- he shows severe lack of empathy and remorse for his actions, all being indicators towards him having sociopathic tendencies...

- like goo, he also probably despises tom lee for how that creepy old bum treated him during his trainee period. during the 4th affiliate arc tom lee stepped on ui daniel's face to keep him down, saying that he reminded him of gun and also something about how it was bad manners to get up once you've been knocked down. so knowing gun, maybe he DID fight back many times and tom lee only got worse/ harsher with his training?

- he has non-ui eyes from kenta's flashback so he probably didn't have ui as a child. i feel that being a heir to the yakuza made him vulnerable to harm from rivals so he got attacked a lot? or yakuza elders probably made him fight to become "worthy"? anyways he was pushed into a state where he has to fight to survive/has to become the strongest beast in order to survive, hence the constant ui...

-ig his growing up was a bit screwed up, and he was required to be a "REAL MAN" as seen by all his "men's worth lies in the money they make", smoking, drinking and displaying sexual promiscuity (he's 18-19 and its heavily implied that he has slept around with women in Vs. GUN)

- he is mentioned to be the young master of the Yamazaki group (massively powerful yakuza) BUT instead of ruling his family in japan, he's merely a CEO'S daughter's bodyguard? either charles choi has serious dirt on him or gun is somehow indebted to charles choi...

- steve hong said that charles choi met someone (alluded to be gun) while his time as a janitor in prison... so maybe he observed gun rounding up and beating all the other convicts to pulp and recruited him as the fighting genius???

- gun is literally the "me and and my girl don't argue, she smash my head with a brick and i walk it off like a man" tweet as a person

- his type is probably someone who can just kill him

- lmao daniel kicked his ass ONCE and he gave that mf his credit card info AND lay on the couch staring at his broken arm like a lovesick fool

- he would get along pretty damn well with seo moonjo from strangers from hell (just two sexy unhinged men thinking about ways to make their babygirls hyungseok and jongwoo worse idk)

- his cooking is ass btw! he is prohibited from entering the kitchen after listing the blood of his enemies as an ingredient for cooking steak.

- gun journals survival tactics while watching zombie movies

- he gels his hair back during work hours to appear older because otherwise he looks like a runway model and no one takes him seriously, either thirsting over him or mocking him for being a pretty boy lmaooo

- his house is probably full of posters and framed signatures and has a shrine or two (HIS FANBOY MOMENT WITH BREKDAK AT THE END OF GOD DOG???)

- his body is scarred all over so he must have had a lot of trouble sleeping on his front, side, or back when those cuts were healing. so ig he adapted to sleeping upright... he's like a horse that way lol

- i was wrong. he is a vampire and doesn't need to sleep. (hmmm like have we ever seen him close his eyes??? yup definitely not!!!)

- his yakuza title of shiro oni could imply that his victims saw his white attire in their final moments (like baek seongjoon being called warai oni for smiling maniacally at his victims before ending them)

- shiro oni AND warai oni were both infamous so it's HIGHLY possible that gun and seongjoon have already met or atleast know each other

- and with THAT i hope he clears his GED and gets therapy or something cuz that's my violent evil little scrunkle i wuv him

[girlwiththegreenhat]

have u heard of this ship called "queenkaard" i feel like it'd appeal to you

oh yeah i think i've heard of that ship it's okay i guess i don't really get what the hype is abo- explodes a second time

(also i saw the way you filled out yours It Was Very Nice and i opened photoshop instead of just making Boxes in ms paint 😳 so thank you for the insp i will go back and make the first one pretty later so it will match the rest of them)

is this my opportunity to scream about why queenkaard is so good? this is my opportunity to scream about why queenkaard is so good. even if they have literally exchanged all of like, 12 words thus far In Canon (hence the Better In Fanon box) and i have to base this all PURELY on the speculative 270k long fanfic that exists only in my head. but there are a lot of fun ways to read them, i will Continue to stand by that! they have a lot of different energies and i think all of them work. as for my Favorite one though...

it's about the found family. it really is. it's a slowburn if ever there was one. it's about wanting and finding purpose, it's about having the opportunity to love and have healthy relationships, its about Some Kid getting to have some Good Damn Parents For A Change. or at least, parents that love him and are trying their best, which is more than he had when he just had Parent (1) trying his best and the other guy decided not to try at a job he didn't think he could get fired from. it's about HEALING. it's about two people looking at some Funny Lil Guy and saying "my kid now" and accidentally uncovering the other's Closet Skeletons in the process that all fell out of their pockets when they leaned over to pick him up. it's also about the drama but we'll get to that one in a second,

i cannot talk about queenkaard without briefly bringing up lancer, without him there would Be no queenkaard, their commitment to him is why they hang out in the first place. their relationship, no matter WHAT it is, is based on the foundation that They Are Going To Care For Him. a friendship or romantic relationship is merely a branch off of that. caring for somebody will bring out a certain softness the wider public might not see so easily, because of him they not only form a friendship, but they get to know each other on a personal level Very Quickly. it's because of him that rouxls finds purpose in a place he didn't expect it, and queen gets to be a mom but what does that Mean? she was a mother Figure to noelle and messed that up pretty badly despite her good intentions. this is something else, though. they are all a little broken but still good, finding out what it means to Be a family at all and they have to- will, do it together, and despite being over the worst of it there's still a bit of a bumpy road ahead but these two are not only dedicated to their boys happiness, but each other as well.

i mean c'mon. rouxls is running around looking for somebody to validate him. and of course he crushes and latches onto queen at a somewhat superficial level at first, but beyond her rank and title she can be such a genuinely sweet, kind, funny, thoughtful person!! this boy caught feels and then he Caught Feels. and she latches onto him some too, it's fun to have someone kissing your ass 24/7 but cyber world is SO much different than castle town and card kingdom, she needs… a guide. she already has this little WIP Family she wants to get close to, and i am HERE for former tutorial master/teacher rouxls. she needs to learn some about lancer anyway!! she kinda needs him multiple times over 😳 and yes he's like the biggest loser in town and yes it's a little embarrassing even to her of all people to be Catching Those Feels Right Back, (and it made the transition from Friends to BF/GF Really Clunky And Weird And Confusing, All The Lines Are Blurry Help) but as absolutely unhinged and wackass as he is, he is good to their boy. he is good to her. he is doing his best. and so is she 💙 they are both such strange silly people from very different worlds and i tHINK THEY SHOULD KISS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN TO THE TRAUMA PART YET. i said in the last one that sometimes you just need someone who has dealt with the same thing you have? they've both dealt with Spade. literally everyone here has beef with that bastard. there are beautiful Healings And Feelings to be had over making peace with it, understanding each other and moving on. we have hurt and comfort for days. weeks, even. months, perhaps.

also it's extremely funny, The Funniest Ever, that spades exes are both kissing now. like even if i throw out all the Secret Depth these two can come with and just go "yeah but what if his exes were kissing", it's still a god-tier ship. i just hate him and want him to live with the knowledge that his ex boyfriend and ex wife stole his son and are a happy little family of three Without Him.

so yeah it's an okay ship i guess 🤪 i'm normal about it

[transrevolutions]

Les Amis Appearance/Headcanon Masterpost

Julien Enjolras (he/him)

 Chinese, 6’, dyed blonde hair. Very dark eyes. A good speaker. Wears a red jean jacket studded with pins proclaiming allegiance to various causes. Studying political science. Hard anarcho-communist. Aromantic and asexual.

.

Alexander Combeferre (he/they)

Black, 6’2 (tallest of the ABC), kinky hair styled in a fade. Has silver square-shaped glasses. Wears lots of sweater vests. Studying medicine. Very studious and philosophical. Democratic socialist. Gay. Does not like to be called Alex.

.

Felix Courfeyrac (he/him)

Latino trans man, 5’5, dark brown hair often dyed purple. Dresses fashionably. On the chubby side. Studying general education to become an elementary school teacher. Very outgoing, the life of the party. Anarcho-communist. Pansexual.

.

Jean "Jehan" Prouvaire (they/them)

Black with long red hair and freckles, 5’9. Dresses badly on purpose. Loves poetry and gothic literature. Is majoring in English with a minor in Medieval History. Light brown eyes. Green anarchist and staunch environmentalist. Shy until you get to know them. Nonbinary.

.

Lee Bahorel (he/she/they)

Black, 6’1 (AND A HALF!!!!), wears hair in braids. Wears lots of T-shirts with funny slogans. Does martial arts and boxes. Working in construction, college wasn’t for him. Anarchist (she believes the communist part should go without saying). Uses any pronouns, queer.

.

Connor Feuilly (he/him)

White (mostly Irish), 5’8, red hair slightly darker than Prouvaire’s, lots of freckles. Leaning towards Trotskyism. Works two jobs and does freelance art on the side. Brought up in the foster system. Aromantic but not asexual, he and Bahorel are friends with benefits. Passionate about education.

.

Michael Joly (he/him)

Korean, 5’4, has a disability from a broken leg that healed wrong; uses a cane. Wears a mask when out in public. Hypochondriac. Studying medicine. Marxist-Leninist in favor of the dissolution of the state, staunchly anti-Stalin. Bisexual. He and Enjolras have good debates. Wears glasses.

.

Amir "Bossuet" Lesgle: (he/they)

Half-Black, half-Iranian, 5’8. Has bad luck. Studying (“studying”) law. Pansexual and in a poly relationship with Joly and Musichetta. Generic leftist who doesn’t want to put himself in ideological boxes. Bald. Pun master (hence the nickname).

.

Rene Grantaire (he/him)

White (only Actually French ABC member), 5’6. Dark curly hair, messy stubble. Talented artist. Says he doesn’t believe in anything but actually cares about his friends. A bisexual pining mess. Denies having any interest in politics. Art student. Smokes too much.

.

Eponine Thenardier (she/her)

Half-white, half-Chinese. 5’3. Long black hair. Collects knives. Bisexual. Claims not to care about politics (is lying). In a poly relationship with Cosette and Marius. Older sister to Gavroche and Azelma. Studying journalism on a scholarship.

.

Marius Pontmercy (he/him)

White, 5’11. Messy brown hair and freckles. Studying law. Was raised conservative, became a classic liberal, eventually turned to democratic socialism under Courf’s influence. The only straight member of the ABC, but in a poly relationship.

.

Cosette Fauchelevent (she/her)

White, 5’7. Brown-blonde hair. Very kind. Bisexual trans woman. Catholic. Democratic socialist. Studying fashion design. Spent about a year with the Thenardiers before being adopted by Valjean. Is trying to reconnect with her birth mom.

.

Musichetta Anikapati (she/her)

South Asian, 5’5. Pansexual. Going to community college and working at the Musain. Anarcha-feminist who destroys transphobes with facts and logic.

.

Montparnasse (he/him)

Vietnamese, 5'5. Trans man. Looks like a Hot Topic exploded in his vicinity. Shoplifts for fun. Leftist in denial who hates cops. Was involved in gang stuff until he met Jehan and decided to turn his life around. God protect you if you use his last name.

.

Gavroche Thenardier (he/him)

White, 4'10 and growing fast. Shaggy blonde hair. Fifth grader. Eponine's half brother. Rare political kid, baby anarchist. Courfeyrac, Grantaire, and Bahorel are his other older sibling figures.

.

BONUS:

Azelma Thenardier (she/her): Half Chinese, half white. Seventh grader, 5'2 and still growing a bit. Eponine's full sister. Too focused on homework and hot girls to care about the political world.

Monique Grantaire (she/her): White, redhead, sixth grader. About 5'2-5'3. Grantaire's younger sister. Takes after her older brother in her enjoyment of art.

[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.

[luna-writes-stuff]

I saw that we could send in headcanon requests and y and I actually had something in mind for Jesper Faney if that’s alright: how about a headcanon of all the times that Jesper is protective of you, either during a heist or just in everyday life. Just Jesper as a worrisome boyfriend that doesn’t want his partner getting hurt. Thanks in advance if you decide to write it 💞💞

Protective boyfriend, Jesper Fahey

Headcanons, genderneutral s/o

Tw: Typical soc stuff, heists, cut on arm, protective Jesper, language (I said shit. Sue me)

- Protective Jesper is something I can definitely see happen. Not necessarily out of lack of self defense or fragile self-image, but out of his own worries. He worries too much. He knows it, you know it, but he can’t stop acting on it. He tends to always assume the worst, even if he doesn’t say it aloud.

- So when on a heist with you, he is constantly at your side. He checks every corner, tries to get a hold of your hand every once in a while and always asks you if you are okay after running or fighting.

- But besides that, he also tends to get a bit ahead of himself when you’ve been discovered. Instinctively, he pushes himself in front of you, making sure you’re not in a direct line of danger. He’ll threateningly grab one of his guns and point it towards the target. He sometimes even manages to get some less than polite words out.

- Things only escalate when you actually get hurt. There was this one time where you got nicked in your upper arm and Jesper just lost his shit. He just shot everyone in the room, grabbed your good hand and ran out of the room. Outside, he just cursed to himself for not protecting you properly while bandaging your arm which a piece of fabric he tore from his sleeve.

- And it isn’t only in heists Jesper is like this. It’s nearly every day, though not as bad.

- It’s just obvious. He is beside you outside, holding your hand or your hand holding onto his arm. He keeps an open eye to anything and anyone. His free hand just carefully hovers over his guns and his eyes squint when he sees someone look at you even the slightest.

- He knows he can handle yourself, he truly does, but he gets insecure when others look at you. He knows you could do better than him and if anyone talks to you, he risks losing you. He just doesn’t want that to happen, hence the murderous look in his eyes. It isn’t anger. It’s fear.

- At night, when you’re alone, he’ll drop the whole thing though. He’ll cuddle up to you in bed, his head on top of your beating heart, your hands running through his hair while he hums contently. He fiddles with your free hand while he just smiles and realizes how lucky he is to have you.

- Kaz uses Jesper’s protectiveness to his advantage. He knows how Jesper behaves around you when on heists; a sweetheart to you but a threat to anyone else. So Kaz always couples you two together. You make sure that Jesper pays attention to the heist while Jesper makes sure the two of you are safe an unseen. Great combo and great idea from Kaz.

- Inej and Nina really love the two of you. Nina more than anyone. She teases Jesper about the two of you all the time. She often imitates the looks Jesper sends others, continuously making you laugh.

- Jesper isn’t a big fan of it, but seeing you laugh makes him happy and content so he’ll always brush it off. It’s funny how someone that sweet and cute can act like some hand-me-down Kaz in public. You won’t say a word about it though.

- It’s just Jesper’s way of protecting you and it goes well-appreciated by you.