#Producer Listening Segment

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Gotye featuring Kimbra - Somebody That I Used to Know 2011

"Somebody That I Used to Know" is a song written, produced and performed by Australian musician and singer Gotye, featuring vocals from New Zealand singer Kimbra. The song samples Luiz Bonfá's 1967 instrumental song "Seville", with additional instrumentations of beats and a xylophone playing a melody based on "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep". The song was released in Australia and New Zealand on 5 July 2011 as the second single from Gotye's third studio album, Making Mirrors (2011). It was released in December 2011 in the UK, and 20 January 2012 in Ireland and the US.

In Australia, the song won the Triple J Hottest 100 poll at the end of 2011, as well as ARIA Music Awards for Song of the Year and Best Video, while Kimbra was voted Best Female Artist, and Gotye was named Best Male Artist and Producer of the Year. The song came ninth in the Triple J Hottest 100 of the Past 20 Years, 2013. At the 55th Annual Grammy Awards, "Somebody That I Used to Know" won two Grammys for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance and Record of the Year.

Commercially, "Somebody That I Used to Know" was a global success and became both artists' signature song. It reached the top of the charts in Australia, New Zealand, the UK and the US, as well as 25 other official charts, and reached the Top 10 in more than 30 countries. Globally, "Somebody That I Used to Know" has sold more than 20 million copies, becoming one of the best-selling digital singles of all time. Gotye paid tribute to the overwhelming number of cover versions of the song by personally creating a video remix, released in August 2012, using segments from hundreds of online covers to create a new, unique version of the track, titled "Somebodies: A YouTube Orchestra".

"Somebody That I Used to Know" received a total of 87,6% yes votes!

[fatuismooches]

Every time recruits were assigned to a Harbinger, they were required to give a speech to the new agents. It was simply the way the Fatui worked - everyone must be made aware and dedicate themselves to the Tsaritsa's will through working for the Harbingers. The experience varied from Harbinger to Harbinger - if one were lucky enough to be with the Captain, they'd be filled with a sense of pride and bravery, if they had the misfortune of working for the Balladeer, well... one could guess how that goes.

Dottore's orientations were also anxiety-inducing, no doubt, considering the kind of reputation he had. Most recruits prayed day and night not to be selected to work for him. It was a very popular rumor about how easy it was to end up as a test subject of Dottore's. However, what many recruits quickly realized was that... working for Dottore was not as bad as many claimed.

Sure, some segments were definitely more difficult to work with than others, but it was actually preferable to working for certain other Harbingers. Just continue to produce results, and you'll be fine. Surprisingly, there were a sizeable amount of agents who adored Dottore. They would rave about him at any given opportunity to anyone who was willing to listen, and that didn't even include their signature handbook. It was also said that if you truly impressed him, he wasn't picky about rewarding you. Unfortunately for new recruits, they were still unaware of this and were left to shiver with their hearts in their throats, awaiting their impending doom.

Even worse for those poor souls, was that a habit of the segments was that they were notoriously late to these meetings, diving deep into their research and discarding it until the last minute. You learned this through idle conversation with one such segment, Beta, who especially despised this baptism.

"So... you just stood there and gave a speech to them?" You couldn't help but find the idea very funny, considering the kind of man he was. "What are your speeches like? Are you motivational, Beta?" He scowled at your teasing and focused his frustration on his latest creation.

"I don't have the time to waste on foolish things."

"Isn't it a good thing to encourage your employees?"

"This is the Fatui. They know what's expected of them," Beta scoffed as if he hadn't turned certain agents into flying robots in the past.

"Aww, but it sounds fun! I would wanna talk to them like that," you sighed. Most of the time the agents would bow, stutter, and quickly make themselves scarce when they saw you. Certain ones would just stare at you in awe silently as if they couldn't believe their eyes, and then scribble something in their notepad. You were unsure of their motives.

"There's a reason why Prime has never attended one himself ever since he created his first segment. All of us fill up our schedules to avoid it," the segment grumbled. He was the one stuck with the duty today. You only hummed in amusement.

"So when is the next screening of new recruits?"

"Tomorrow morning. Hmm, Omega's turn this time too. He's best at these things, anyway." You smiled as you had a very good idea.

"I'm going to go!"

"Are you now? Have fun." Beta responded dryly. Now that he thought about it, if you were so eager, perhaps he should have brought you to do most of the speaking.

"I will. I'll get them to be the most motivated Fatui agents there is!"

—

For a small group of people, they were starting their mornings with possibly one of the most frightening experiences of their lives. It was only natural for them to whisper to each other, all huddled up.

"I wonder if the rumors about Lord Dottore are true. Is he going to dissect us if-"

"You know what I wonder? What segment of Lord Dottore we'll get assigned to. I heard-"

"He has segments???"

"Apparently, he cloned himself at different stages of his life, so we'll deal with numerous versions of him."

"... As soon as the time comes, I'm putting in a request to transfer out of here."

"And that will be your biggest mistake. Lord Dottore is far more generous than you lot make him out to be."

"Pardon?"

"Lord Dottore is quite frequently praised by many agents around here. You just haven't heard them yet. Furthermore, he'll always appreciate results, regardless of your actions." The Dottore defender passionately gripped his chest. The group looked unconvinced.

"Are you sure they weren't under duress or something...?"

"Well, I've met his spouse once too! And [Name] was as kind as-" The poor agent was interrupted by laughter.

"Spouse? The sun would sooner shine bright in Snezhnaya than Lord Dottore ever being married."

"Is he even capable of love?"

"It's not a lie. Many agents who work for our Lord know them! In fact, they-"

"Ahem! Attention everyone!" A voice sounded in front of the room, that was... definitely not Dottore's. There stood a person who was... definitely not Dottore either. The room went completely silent as they gazed upon your rather proud form.

"You all were expecting Dottore, but I, [Name], will start this thing off first!" The glint of your wedding ring became all too noticeable for the new recruits as your eyes scanned the crowd. "Oh, hey! You're that guy I gave directions to a while back! You really did transfer over, huh!" You gleefully waved to him as he scratched his head, in both embarrassment and honor, and the agents suddenly had a feeling that the man was not lying about Dottore's marital status.

"Anyway, I'm gonna ask you all the question I know you're all thinking about. You're absolutely terrified of Dottore, aren't you?!" You pointed at them while their throats were dry from the situation. After a few seconds, they glanced at each other before nodding awkwardly. You only chuckled as you puffed out your chest.

"Well, I'm going to erase all those fears right here, right now. As the person who knows him better than anyone, I can assure you he's a great Harbinger to work under! And to do that... I'm going to give you all a crash course on Dottore's segments! So go on, ask me anything and I shall deliver!" Your resounding confidence was met with blank stares, save for the new inductee into the fan club.

"Are they really Lord Dottore's lover?"

"Well, they have to be... no one can just walk around casually claiming to be married to him."

"I mean... if someone like Lord Dottore is able to fall in love, then he can't be too bad, right...? We should listen to them."

One by one the nervous agents asked you a variety of questions - how to deal with them, how to tell them apart, what to do if they were annoyed, a few quirks to look out for, the kind of work efficiency he valued, the kind of sweets they most favored when it came time to pacify them- the more you spoke, the more engaged the new recruits got. You were rather proud of your skills.

"And if that wasn't enough motivation for you, do it for him!" In the end, you pulled out your one and only pet, the strange blue fox creature who blinked at the crowd who was loudly clapping for some reason.

"You know, I feel a lot more confident about working here!"

"I told you all, you just didn't believe me," the one fan said, still over the moon. But even amidst the commotion, a pair of shoes neatly echoed throughout the room, causing everyone to nearly fall silent at his presence.

"Oh... that's Lord Omega, right? His mask is black." Said agent got elbowed by another for speaking, as they all bowed lowly in respect. The segment was more interested in what you were doing here.

"... [Name], what exactly is the meaning of this?" The segment studied you carefully - despite your sweet smile, he didn't exactly have the best feeling about this.

"I gave them a speech of course! You need to motivate them more, you know? For the results you love so much! I just decided to do your job for you." Your lover stared at you and then turned his attention to the group who were standing stiffly.

"Is that so?"

"Y-Yes, Lord Dottore."

"Then you are all dismissed." The group blinked before quickly shuffling out of the room, mostly in awe at how casually you spoke to the Harbinger. You really were married...

"Just trust me Omega, those guys will be some of your most hardworking agents!" Omega looked at you thoughtfully - their demeanor did seem much better than when he spoke. But he still had a lingering thought that bothered him.

"[Name], you didn't tell them anything potentially... inappropriate, did you?"

"Inappropriate? O-Oh, of course not, Omega. I merely boosted their spirits into working for you!" You smiled, ignoring how his gaze was boring into you.

"That's all?"

"Yes, that's all!"

"..."

"..."

"Well, actually, I-I may have told them about the sweets thing again- hey- don't get closer!"

[saintslewis]

𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

- drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black! fem reader

summary: reader will never let the paddock forget who Lewis Hamilton is.

warnings: cussing.

saint’s team radio 🪩: this is just a lil something. I was pissed tf off yesterday because of some lewis “fans” and i will never miss an opportunity to let ppl know who my goat is 🫦. enjoy

ps, i’m not adding actual reporter’s names for this so i made up random names.

taglist: @mauvecherie-writes @perfecttrashface @non-stop-imagines @emjayewrites @purplelewlew @hopefulromantic1 @motheroffae @exotic-iris13 @httpsserene @queenshikongo3 @greedyjudge2 @cocobutterqwueen

-

The tag from your denim jacket had been irritating you since the second you put it on but you chose to forget about it, often adjusting it with your nails or a little shimmy of your shoulders.

Holding the mic from Sky Sports F1 wasn’t all too odd for you, the broadcast team only handing it to you when talking about Lewis and his achievements. Your support for the Stevenage driver was strong, often being as labelled as biased but you couldn’t care less. The support was mutual between the two of you, usually lingering on the line of friendship but doubt and time was always against you.

Your sunglasses sat on your braided head with a bored expression on your face, just wanting to get this segment over with so that you could go back to your individual blogging and interviews. Standing patiently in front of the cameras while other reporters ran around unorganised, you played with your beaded ‘44’ bracelet.

“My goodness, Y/n! I have no clue how you are so calm, this is always so hard!” One of them exclaimed, laughing in the process. “Not to mention the outfit! You look like you could go to a party!” Another laughed, her smile faltering when your eyes snapped to her, expression never changing.

After a while, the segment began and off the reporters went on a scripted tangent about other teams before getting to the main topic; Lewis. “Now, onto a different subject, Lewis Hamilton’s performance in that car has been nothing short of a…disaster if I could say.” Jimmy said, deciding to look at you as he spoke. Almost as if he was challenging you.

“For a specific race weekend or overall? His teammate, George is doing significantly better. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, it’s like he doesn’t know how to drive.” Jennifer spoke, poorly making an attempt of a joke.

“I’m not too sure why you’re speaking as if he is a rookie. You lot can see that Mercedes hasn’t been doing well as a collective yet you’re targeting one driver who has brought then 8 constructer titles rather than the other who has one win.” Lifting your mic, you spoke with a clear voice, never stuttering.

Frank shook his head and tried to chuckle. “Look Y/n. We understand he’s your boyfriend or whatever but we need to be factual here. What Ferrari has done is a mistake by signing him. I mean, there needs to be more space for others and he’s taking up space.”

“And Alonso’s dusty ass doesn’t need to leave? Using my support for Lewis to try and justify your dislike for him is unprofessional. I have no clue how you have the gumption to say all this.” You responded, still not moving from your spot.

The other 4 reporters stared at you in shock along with other people stopping in the paddock, surrounding the space just in front of the official f1 hospitality suite.

“There’s no need to use aggressive language, Y/n.” Jennifer lifted her hand to place on your shoulder but you moved away in time. “Aggressive for who?” You challenged, tilting your head.

It had gotten quite. “The viewers. It’s not a lie, Lewis is just not good anymore. He needs to make space.” One of them spoke up but you couldn’t be bothered to listen to anyone else other than Frank, your eyes trained on him.

“What? We need to speak with the producers, having an independent journalist was a mistake.” Frank smirked.

“You can take your opinion and shove it up your ass. Thanks for having me, Sky Sports F1.” You turned to the camera to blow a kiss then you gave the mic you were holding to whoever would catch it.

Walking away from the set, you knew what you did was undeniably unprofessional but those people had always had a vendetta against Lewis and any reporter/journalist who support him. Breathing out, you sashayed your way through the paddock with people staring as your braids glided in the slight breeze.

The buzz of your phone shook you out of your racing mind, a little gasp escaping your mouth as you read the notification from instagram.

lewishamilton no joke, that was the best thing i’ve ever seen. glad we have that interview together in 5 minutes :)

You first looked around the paddock after reading that message but you figured that he watched it live just like everyone else did. Your anger for that segment had clouded your thoughts so much, you forgot about the interview you were supposed to have with the champion.

Rushing to the large luxurious paddock club, you received all types of looks from those who either clearly watched the broadcast live or they’re looking at your outfit, although the latter was made up in your mind.

Luckily, he hadn’t arrived to the designated room you booked to have the interview with him but as soon as you got your phone out to record and your notes, the screams and excitement were heard from outside the door and a smile couldn’t help but sneak on your face.

You have only interviewed him three times in your entire career but every time you did so, he never wanted it to end, always trying to make it longer by asking his own questions to you or just sharing a laugh.

With security opening the door for him, he entered the room and spotted you with a smile on his face. He entered alone in the mercedes shirt already on. No words needed to spoken by either of you, Lewis opening his arms for a hug to greet you. Once in his embrace, you thought it’d be quick but to your surprise, it lasted a few moments longer.

“Hi Y/n.” Lewis spoke, a hand still on your shoulder. You took a quick breath and immediately relaxed on the spot. “Hey Lewis.”

“Your response to Sky was insane but I liked it.” He chuckled, sitting across from you with his legs open and a ring clad hand sat comfortably on his lap.

You didn’t want to show him how the sight affected you especially when your emotions are sky high so you remained calm on the outside. “It’s just…I’m pretty sure I lost my job just now because of how I reacted.” You sighed out, flicking a few braids back.

“Some of them had said worse things so you’re okay.” Lewis responded, his tone wasn’t all too sure but he just wanted to lift your mood. “Yeah but I’m black. They used micro aggressions too.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at everything once recalling back to that moment.

“I heard. I’ll have a word with Sky.” He reassured you. “Oooh okay, Sir.” You joked, masking how the reassurance made your stomach flutter. You’d like to think he was openly flirting with you but you quickly put that thought at the back of your mind.

“I just don’t want those people to forget who you are, you know? I’m sure you hear this all the time. You know what you’re doing and you’re the best at it. I wanna remind the people who the goat is.” You rambled a bit, noticing his smile growing as he listened to you.

“You’re too kind, really. I know what I am, it’s just a little tough right now.” He shrugged as he fully leaned back into his seat. “If you need me to fight anybody in your team, let me know.” You winked, flashing a comical smile that made Lewis laugh.

Giving you a once over, Lewis leaned forward and rested his tatted arms on his knees. “You look good today. You always do but today…phenomenal.” He spoke, his voice noticeably relaxed. “Don’t make me blush, Sir.” You smiled, failing terribly at hiding your feeling.

“That nickname, Y/n,” He chuckled. “Is that door locked?” He asked. All you had to do was nod at the man and Lewis smirked, licking his lips in the process.

“C’mere.”

saint’s notes 🪩: slightly rushed, george pissed me off, hope you enjoyed. bye. <3

[planetkiimchi]

send my love | l.jh

featuring: music producer!jihoon x musician!reader, secret relationship

word count: 936 words

summary — jihoon accidentally exposes your relationship with a slip of his tongue… in front of an entire school of students.

author’s note: had sm fun writing this and doing the bonus part <3 inspired by the songwriter that came to my school today!

Jihoon stands backstage, listening to the first few seconds of your song, “breaking down walls”, play. When it stops playing, the chorus of voices doesn’t stop, and he’s shocked to hear the students singing the lyrics to the song the two of you co-wrote together, their voices loud and clear in the multi-purpose hall.

He’d thought it would stop, but he swears only the first 3 seconds of the song were played, yet they sing all the way to the chorus before stopping.

Still in a daze, he barely notices when he’s signalled to go onstage, but he pulls himself together and does exactly that. He’s prepared a presentation for the students, to let them know a little bit more about songwriting and how he came to write songs, and a few tips he has for anyone who might be looking to become a songwriter.

He was invited to speak because your song was a top hit, and the lyrics were about breaking down the barriers of mental illnesses with the help of medication, proper treatment, good relationships and healthy coping strategies.

Mental health is something that he’s struggled with for a while. Every time he feels low, and his mental health is waning, he writes a song about it.

He writes about other things, but his favourites are probably the songs that he writes coming out of a slump caused by executive dysfunction, when he manages to get his life back on track again.

The school he’s visiting is holding activities for mental health week, and this presentation he’s giving is among the last few before they wrap up the week.

Of course, Jihoon mentions you in his presentation, because you’re the singer of “breaking down walls”, a song that the two of you wrote over a series of months, rarely exiting the studio except occasionally to get food. He probably calls you stunning a couple of times—he can’t remember, but he’s always found you the better looking between both of you anyway. You’re also more popular, so he apologises that you can’t be there because you’re busy preparing for your concert the day after.

He was nervous getting onstage to speak to such a large audience, and he can’t say he’s ever been gifted at public speaking, but he thinks he does an okay job. The crowd is relatively quiet, and he hopes the soft buzz is just the students excitedly talking about the content of his presentation.

When he’s finished delivering his points, one of the music teachers that he briefly met backstage comes onstage. Two students bring out two chairs for the two of them to sit, and the Q&A segment starts.

Jihoon feels that this is the part he was most nervous for. Before getting onstage, he wondered what he would say when asked about this song. It’s very close to his heart, and while he’s co-written a different song before, with a different friend, about mental health too, it wasn’t really the same. It’s hard to explain, but the you and his other friend have different styles, and he thinks “breaking down walls” holds a special place in his heart. It’s truly an irreplaceable song.

Because of how important “breaking down walls” is to him, Jihoon finds it difficult to articulate his emotions without feeling extremely overwhelmed, and he’s afraid tears may start flowing if he thinks too much about it.

However, his fears are eased when the teacher begins speaking. The teacher asks Jihoon simple questions like what’s his favourite song he’s written, and one of your songs that he finds criminally underrated.

These are easy to answer; he barely hesitates before launching into a full-blown explanation for his two choices, and he’s bolstered by the cheers of agreement from the students.

Jihoon gets really into it when asked about “breaking down walls”, managing to word his feelings without getting too emotional. After all that worrying, he’s impressed with himself when he manages to phrase it as “writing lyrics from the bottom of his heart, with all of his soul”, expressing his gratitude for all the support the two of you have received for this song.

As the teacher brings the Q&A segment to a close, the students burst into a round of applause. Jihoon thinks you might want to see how much admiration they have for you, so, taking out his phone, he says, “I’ll send Y/n my love—I mean, your love.”

He doesn’t blush, but his palms grow sweaty. He subtly wipes them on his lap before hitting the “record” button on his phone.

”Hey, Y/n. I hope you’re having a good time preparing for the concert. There are some people who’d like to say hi to you.” He smiles, thinking about how you’ll look receiving his message in the middle of rehearsals, hoping he can give you a boost in energy.

He turns the camera around to show the students, who—to their credit—cheer so loudly his eardrums feel like they’re going to burst. When he turns it back to himself, Jihoon says, “That’s all I have to say. Enjoy the rehearsals!”

He stops recording, and turns to the students. “I’ll send it to them and let you know. Thank you so much for having me.”

He’s escorted away from the venue with a gift from the school, but all he can think of is the way he slipped up onstage. He still sends the video, but he receives a notification on X first.

Clicking it open, he finds something that makes his face turn pink. He’s glad he slipped up, after all.

—

Bonus (the tweet in question):

[purplepickles]

“Under The Covers”

Pairings: Central cee x black fem reader

Genre: fluff

Authors Note: it’s my first time writing on tumblr so bare with me I also haven’t haven’t written anything in like years I used to a Wattpad author in like 2017-2019😭 so imagine what I used to be writing. It’s not my best peice of work but it’s progress kinda messy icl in terms of storyline but it’s something anyways I hope everyone enjoys it 💗

You had just signed a contract with vogue for a new segment they were trying out for they’re YouTube channel called “Under the Covers”. It was in a podcast style in a bedroom setting hence the name and basically talking about the latest fashion trends tips or anything black girl related.

You were so grateful for this opportunity never in your life would you have imagine a little black girl from London was able to sign a massive deal with vogue. The topic of todays video was maintenance. How you maintain standards for yourself if that means relationship, mental or physical health. So instead of it being in their studio you wanted your video being a bit more homely so why not in your home. The producers had set everything up in your room making sure everything was ready for filming but this video was going to have a little extra twist. You were going to have your very first guest and they how they managed to maintain their life and overall humbleness with the fame he had gained over the years.

You kept your relationship on the down low on the respect of each other careers and not wanting to surround your relationship over it. You were actually calm with that but he wasn’t liking seeing people he fucked with in your dms with heart eyes.

Little did Yn know he was going to announce it in their video together.

“Okay I’m going to count down from 5 and we’ll start filming” said the producer

5

4

3

2

1

“Hi Vogue it’s me Yn/ln and welcome to our new segment called Under the covers where uncover beauty secrets fashion and every black girl related. But today’s video things are little different we’re in my actual bedroom and I have a special guest with us he’s one of my favourites rappers right now a current world wide sensation Central Cee”

“I didn’t know I was your favourite artist”

“Yes you did you’re also my most listened to artist on Spotify we’ve defo talked about this”

“Mhmmm”

You rolled your eyes and continued with the video

“Anyways let’s get straight into todays topic: maintenance. How to do maintain eye yourself to keep your life somewhat stable”

“I guess keeping my mum,my brothers, my fans and my girl happy innit. If they’re happy I’m happy” said central cee never straying away from eye contact from the love of his life

“And what you say is the hardest one to keep happy and why” Yn was very curious about this who knew where this could go

“My girl defo she’s says I’m annoying I think she hates me”

The way your head slowly snapped

“Did you not say at Amelia Dinner Date you like girls you hate you”

“Yh I did I turns me on but she’s just something Yk I’m just infatuated by her but maybe I’m a bit delusional when it comes to her yk idk if that’s a good thing or bad thing. Kinda new to this love thing and not messing up yk I don’t wanna get it wrong again I really like her”

That was probably the most beautiful thing he’s said in a while she didn’t know he felt like this she sometimes she can be a bit rude and her sarcasm can be taken the wrong way but she thought he knew between the lines that she didn’t hate him she lived more than anything.

“I think you should talk to her about your feeling more Yk. Don’t be shy on opening up more Yk. When you feel ready ask her what she thinks it’s possibly lacking” she smiled at him with reassurance hoping that he could through her eyes that’s it okay and she was listening

“Yh your right imma tell her right now!”

Yn chocked on her drink. He could not be serious. She should’ve known this boy was up to something

“As in right now!? I’m sure she’s busy” you said trying to get to him to change his mind

“Nah she’s not im calling her rn”

For someone who didn’t like interviews this but sure had a lot to say

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

Your phone was on the other side of the room Ringing none stop.

Everyone was looking at you. You knew the producers were loving this but you were not this was too much.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

“Yn are you gonna pick up you phone”

you usually loved his smile but this was just devious.

“Do I have to” you were just dreading this

Everyone shouted yes. You rolled out bed and a grabbed the phone

“Hi baby”

“Hi cench, now can we get back to the video please”

“Yes Cench we can. You wanna cuddle too?”

//

The video was going well there was laughter within the whole room. You asked him the question that you were assigned to ask him everything was going great. You loved being under your lovers arms. Maybe letting people in wasn’t so bad.

“Thank you vogue for this absolutely-

A knock on the door you both looked at door and someone opened to little boy running in crying and jumping to Oakley’s arm. How many surprises could one video take you said to yourself in your head.

“What’s up little man” Oakley now went into full father mode his whole rapper persona was switched and all he cared about was understanding why his little boy was upset

“Had a bad dream” said the little one

“How about we say goodbye to vogue and make some hot chocolate” you said while trying to tickle him

“Right I think me and vogue has had enough surprises don’t forget to like subscribe and hit that notification and stay tuned for next weeks video about Motherhood and Careers with a icon mother and billionaire. Bye guys”

[12triceratops]

Where the rubber meets the road.

These two didn't just have a relationship, they had a (soul)utionship. "The Prophecy" Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle...

What these two had was magical. There is no debate that Karlie Kloss and Taylor Swift were electric: (I am using past tense for the moment, I will refer to them in present tense a bit later in the post)

Fast forward a decade later to Fortnight. This record did not hit me immediately the way "Folklore" and "Evermore" did, It has almost been a week since its release and I hadn't been fully onboard with TTPD. I was expecting something different, something not familiar and I had quite literally thought maybe Jack Antinoff and Taylor Swift had reached their limit together as collaborators. The music produced by Aaron Dressner had flavors and connections to "Folklore" and "Evermore," while parts of the album was reminiscent of "1989." My next thought that maybe the three of them had done all they could do.

And then the Matty Healy conversation exploded across the net (le sigh), and I just about gave up on the record.

I damn near had a sanguinary struggle within myself over The Tortured Poets Department (I know, that is very dramatic lol), and then I finally got it. The brilliance of this woman is unmatched.

The last song "The Manuscript." Now and then she rereads the manuscript Of the entire torrid affair

"The entire torrid affair" meaning the last decade (probably longer, but I am sticking with 2014-2024). The title isn't lost on me and many others - The Man-U-Script.

The last segment of the song

The only thing that's left is the manuscript One last souvenir from my trip to your shores Now and then I reread the manuscript But the story isn't mine anymore

She is closing the chapter on all of it. It's over, the countless theories, the stories we all have created about her. They're our stories now, we built them into a formidable, monstrous entity that took on a life of its own. "The last souvenir" are her words to us on this album. From the Swifities, to the Gaylors/Kaylors, to the haters, critics, industry, fans, media. She won't play this game anymore. Taylor gave enough clues on this album to make EVERYONE'S theory plausible (Karlie, Joe, Matty, Travis, Harry, Kim etc). She connected threads to come full circle, which brings us back to "1989," that 1980s syth-pop (hello! "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart"). This is why she and Jack Antonoff brought us back to where it all began, Karlie Kloss and #Kissgate (Dianna Agron, too, who can forget "Wonderland). Aaron Dressner summons moments within this records of the two albums that fractured my soul, F & E. That folky-pop melody that gets into your skin to change the DNA. No joke, I sobbed listening to "Folklore" and "Evermore."

With TTPD, Taylor comes in like a thrashing, tumultuous storm; at times seething and others admonishing. She is singing to herself, for herself and without need of approval from the mainstream radio (or anyone else). TTPD is messy, too much, not enough, vulnerable, real, relatable and she is tired of our collective shit.

Back to "The Manuscript" This Era has come to an end and she is leaving us with the ruins, the aftermath of what she went through: being forced to hide who she really is, having to placate the rabid fans who believe the stories of every boy she has ever dated. She has had zero privacy and the only safe place Taylor has ever had was her music, she is the ONLY one who knows to whom she sings. Does she love her fans, of course, but Mother is tired and done. She is ready to come clean and live the life she has crafted to keep in secret in order to protect the innocent.

The beards, NDAs, slight of hand, she is smashing all that we know. It's not her reflection she seeks to shatter, it's the illusions. In "Fortnight" the nurse, a woman (cannot convince me that it's not Karlie. A doorframe is 6'8" and that nurse is about 5" shorter that frame, which would make that person 6'3" :), comes to save her, gives her the key to set her free. The men in the video are the ones who are torturing her. Like the last 10 years, The poet has been tortured by the department of men: Joe, John, Conner, Jake, Harry, Calvin, Tom, Joe, Matty, Travis, Scooter, Scott, and the list goes on.

It's "Robin" that has got a choke-hold on me.

Buried down deep And out of your reach The secret we all vowed To keep it from you in sweetness

She is singing to a child, a kid, and I am going to say a little boy. Is this song about Levi? I am going to say yes. Hands down the gem of the album, and our cue to realize she is telling us what is next, her family, the loves of her life: Karlie and the kids. That is what she wants and that will be her next chapter. We struggle to interpret the Taylor that is always ten steps ahead of us. Her Eras Tour, this will be the last one for a while. Once it has wrapped, I wouldn't be surprised if she disappeared for a spell. Will she produce more work, sure. Perform, probably, but this last decade has taken a toll, and this tour has been a herculean effort. Hence, its wild success. Could she retire (FLORIDA)? It's possible, but she would never tell us, we would have to figure that out for ourselves.

I have more to say, but it's late and I am sleepy. As I get lost in the piano of "The Manuscript" I am reminded of the book "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo"

Not sure if anyone is going to see or read this, but I needed a place to write my thoughts about this extraordinary album that I almost let slip through my fingers. Good night and sleep well everyone <3

[vqnillaclouds]

in splatoon 4 they should add two idol groups who are both doing the news but on different channels

they are very competitive and about equal in popularity

you get to pick which news broadcast you listen to, or maybe they alternate each time

they pull pranks on each other to ruin the other group’s news segment

they have the same producer so the rivalry is possibly just a marketing stunt…but they are both *really* into it

possible enemies to lovers arc during the splatfests???

(bonus points if their studios are literally across the street from eachother)

[spookybergara]

just saw ghost files live in MI and here are my notes

ryan carried shane on stage bridal style

during the filming of the last episode a crew member named brendon ripped the most diabolical fart known to man. which ryan discovered in post while listening very closely for audio evidence and which caused him to throw the headphones because of the sheer volume. (fart was described as brendon’s buttcheeks giving a round of applause and rain against a tarp.) dont tell brendon.

their friendship is stronger than ever, which shane says is evidenced by the fact that he has not murdered ryan yet

they reviewed two pieces of evidence submitted by audience members, one of which was a porch cam of what the submitter claimed to be their cat who had passed a week prior to the footage. shane called bullshit (he “has a cat, knows what they look like”) on this person’s beloved dead ghost cat evidence and then retracted his bullshit because he felt bad

apparently in kansas city ryan immediately deescalated a potential bar fight involving producer lizzie, carter, and a really drunk man by throwing his arm around the angry drunk guy and asking him if he likes disneyland

they did the human speaker/spirit box segment live in the theatre. after several minutes of nonsense and some burpees, ryan very pointedly told the “spirit” that this is their LAST chance to tell him their name. after a few seconds of silence shane just let out a soft opera note into the microphone

ryan is more afraid of ghosts than he is people because at least he can fight a person

shane wants ryan to fistfight zak bagans, who MIGHT have intentionally sabotaged a few paranormal sites so that they wouldn’t let the ghoul boys in. but WHO can say really

next week’s ghost files episode fucking rocks!

i’ll be back tomorrow if i remember anything else but the show was a TON of fun. go see them!

[absurdthirst]

Can't Fight Cupid {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Human Max, sexism in the the workplace, insults, bickering, drinking, sexual harassment, mentions of drugging, drunk sex, impaired decision making but everyone consents, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cream-pie, angst, oral sex (male and female receiving), confessions

Comments: Your morning show co-host, Max Phillips drives you mad. Constantly annoying you and bickering with you. At the Cupid's Ball, the weekend before Valentine's Day, you get a little drunk and do something incredibly stupid. Sleep with him.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Max Phillips MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

  You groan, rolling over to slam your hand down on top of your alarm clock. 

It reads 3 am. 

“Fuck.” You huff, feeling exhausted after staying up late last night to talk to your agent, and you regret it now. There’s no choice to snooze, you need to get up. 

Moaning as you force yourself out of your comfy bed, you stumble into the bathroom, turning on the light, and it’s bright enough to make you wince. “God.” You whine, palming your face. Every day, you’re closer to being replaced by some teeny bopper with perky tits and an annoyingly high-pitched voice. You pee and brush your teeth before you start your morning routine. Treadmill. Weights. Protein shake. Shower. Get dressed.

The car pulls up outside your apartment building on time, and you get in to meet your producer, and she starts to ramble about the segments for the show.

You listen to her half-heartedly but stare out of the window. The street lights reflect as they twinkle overnight without anyone but you and a tired few to admire them.

When you arrive at the studio, you’re ushered inside and to your dressing room to get started on the exhausting daily routine of getting ready for TV. 

Your makeup artist is putting on your lipstick when there’s a knock on the door. 

“Goooood morning Vietnammmmm!” He shouts with enough energy to make you want to punch his stupid face. 

“Max.” You huff, turning your head to see him swagger into your dressing room with his designer bespoke suit.

“You ready for the Coleman interview? You sure you’re up to it?” He tuts, leaning over you as he checks out his reflection in the mirror.

“I think if one of us is prepared and able to interview a woman who survived sexual assault at the hands of a powerful man, it’s me. If you did it, she’d be traumatized all over again.” You scoff, crossing your arms.

Max snorts, “whatever, princess. Just don’t make us look bad.” He says, and you roll your eyes, “It’s not me who makes us look bad. You’re the one who flirts with anything that has a pulse.”

Your co-host leans in, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes in the mirror, “I think you’re just jealous that I never flirt with you…off air.” He adds, his eyes narrow slightly, and you push him away from you. 

“In your fucking dreams, Phillips.” He chuckles, and you want to slap him, but he has already been in the makeup chair and Shelly would kill you if your handprint ruined her work.

Max chuckles again, slowly backing out of your dressing room, but he turns to look at you and says, “see you on the stage, wifey.” He teases and you growl under your breath.

You and Max are the darlings of morning news. The Daily News Show. You’re the “husband and wife” of daytime TV. You aren’t together. No, fuck no. You are both painfully single, unable to hold down a relationship when the show is your entire life. You live and breathe the news. Max has his liaisons, as detailed in every gossip mag from New York to L.A, but you’re the good girl. You could never get away with what he manages to do. You are held to a higher standard and it’s bullshit. You were called a “slut” when you went out with three men in six months. Max has ten flings - barely a weekend each - and he’s revered as “daytime’s most eligible bachelor.” 

You exhale shakily, trying to control your hatred towards Max before you go on air and put on your persona as the loving “TV wife.” You close your eyes and focus until Jimmy, the AD, comes in to tell you that it’s time to get on set. You nod, standing up to make your way through the halls to the set and Max is already sitting at the desk when you arrive. Shelly comes over to dust your face with setting powder and the producers are going over the segments one last time. 

“Right, everyone. Thirty seconds to live.” The director announces, headset on, and you swallow harshly, getting yourself in the zone.

“Don’t fuck up.” Max murmurs and you turn your head to glare at him. 

“You’re the only fuck up here, Phillips.” You hiss back and he chuckles, “at least I’m getting fucked. How long has it been again…? Last one was…that dude from Fallon?” He reminds you of your ex who was a writer over on The Jimmy Fallon Show. 

“Your last one still asleep in your bed?” You spit back, “you even get her name?” You ask and Max frowns. 

“Jessica? No, Jamie. No…shit.” He shakes his head and you roll your eyes. 

“As we are live in ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…” The director lowers his fingers to be silent and then you straighten up and plaster a smile on your face.

“Good morning and welcome to The Daily News Show.” You introduce yourself with a grin. 

“And I’m Max Phillips. It’s three days until Valentine's Day. Are you ready for the day?” Max asks you as per the teleprompter and you chuckle, “is anyone ready? Our friends over at Saks have some ideas for last-minute gifts later on in the show. Max, did you already get my present?” You question him teasingly like the TV wife you are.

“Of course.” He responds like it’s obvious, “I couldn’t not get my gorgeous co-host something special.” He winks and you internally scoff at his slimy smile. 

“I guess I’ll have to wait and see what you got me.” You giggle and turn back to look at the camera, “let’s take a look at your morning forecast.”

You go off air while the weatherman takes over and Max leans in, “did you get me a present?” He asks and you snort, “you’re lucky I put up with you.” 

Max chuckles, “well, at least we got the Cupid’s Ball tonight.” You groan softly under your breath, having forgotten that was tonight.

You have to go. You need to go. But you desperately want to curl under your duvet with a glass of wine and forget that you will be spending Valentine’s Day alone.

****

You tug on the hem of your skirt as you walk through the hall to the bustling private area of a skyscraper restaurant that overlooks the city where the party is being held. You feel ridiculous in the short red dress your stylist had picked for you, styled with a pair of heels that make you question if they belong in a torture room in the rings of hell. They are insanely uncomfortable and you’re reminded again of why you wish you were back at home curled up on your sofa with a glass of wine watching rom-com movies and shoving chocolate in your mouth. You inhale deeply before you make your way into the room.

Leaning against the bar, Max is already a few drinks in, bored out of his mind and questioning why he has to attend these things. No one wants to talk to him, they want to talk to his morning show personality. The Cupid’s Ball is an annoying reminder that despite his popularity, no one was special in his life. At least no one that he really wanted. Taking a sip of his drink, he nearly chokes when he sees you walk into the room. The blood red dress calls to him and he smirks as he puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly across the floor, catcalling you obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes and make a beeline to the bar where Max is, greeting people who are half drunk along the way. “You have one too many or you trying to make me doubt myself in this dress?” You question Max, trying to figure out his motive. You feel itchy in the dress now as his dark eyes trail along your form.

Max chuckles and waggles his brows suggestively. “You did get me a present.” He jokes. “Now put it on the floor where it belongs.” He knows that the network wouldn’t be happy with a sexual harassment lawsuit, but you wouldn’t file one of those. You enjoy cutting him down with scathing retorts too much. “Drink first, fuck later? Or fuck now, drink later?” He asks, offering you his own glass.

You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head, “in your fucking dreams, Phillips.” You huff and he chuckles, “if only you knew…” 

You shake your head and push his glass away, “knowing you, you probably roofied it.” You call the bartender over and order a Cosmo, wanting to enjoy the evening even if your co-star insists on annoying you to death. “What are you doing hanging by the bar? No pretty interns to harass?”

“Why harass interns when I can harass you?” He gives you a hurt pout and takes his drink back and takes a sip of it to prove that he hasn’t done anything to it. “Besides, if I didn’t bother you, you would think that I was body snatched.” He snorts and looks out over the throng of people filing in.

You snort, “that’s true. I would think you’d been abducted by aliens if you didn’t make my life hell every day.” You thank the bartender for your drink. “To being painfully single because we made our careers our lives.” You toast as you hold your drink towards him.

Max lifts his glass in salute and snorts. “You’ve still got time, sweet cheeks.” He tells you. “You can put those birthing hips to use.” He smirks when you glare at him and shrugs. “What? You don’t want to have rugrats attached to the tit?” His eyes drop to your chest. “Pity.”

Your eyebrows raise, “and you are thinking about reproducing? Good God. The world couldn’t cope with a miniature Max Phillips.” You chuckle and shake your head, “besides…you’re lucky. You could knock up every woman from New York to L.A and you would keep your job. Me? I’d be out the door as soon as I peed on a test.” You take a sip of your drink and shift from one foot to another, unused to this kind of talk directed at you from Max. Usually he’s boasting about his conquests and how much better he looks on camera.

“In the year of our lord, 2024?” Mad huffs and shakes his head. “No. The network would exploit it. Have ‘baby and me’ segments.” In reality, the only way the network would do that is if their hand was forced, but Max isn’t willing to give up his co-host. Despite your attitude towards him off camera, the public loved you two together. “All you’d have to do is announce it on air and tell viewers the special segments to come. A taped sonogram. Let our morning show viewers fall in love with the little brat.”

“The only way they’d do that is if it was our baby and to do that, we’d have to have sex and I know that you prefer them pliable and dumb.” You glance around the room, spotting the producers laughing together and the execs making a short experience before they helicopter out to their mansions.

Max scoffs. “That would never happen.” He agrees, although there’s a frown on his face as he turns back to the bar. “Better that we focus on our careers, right? That will keep us warm when we’re in our nursing homes.” He chuckles. “When we turn forty-five.”

“You’re closer to that than me, old man.” You taunt him, “forty this year. You gonna be able to handle getting older?” You nudge him, knowing that he prides himself on his looks and Devil May care attitude.

He shoots you a dirty look before glancing at the mirror behind the bar. “Don’t look a day over thirty-four.” He huffs before looking at you with a smirk. “Must be all the endorphins from sex.”

You can’t deny that he looks good. He always looks good. Must be the pussy and Botox he gets on the sly. “You gonna come out of my cake at my party like Marilyn Monroe?” Max asks and you shake your head, “no way, Phillips.” You snort and down the rest of your drink, gesturing for the bartender to get you another one. “Didn’t even know you were planning a party.”

He pouts at you again, looking hurt. “If I don’t throw myself a party, who would?” He asks, rolling his eyes. “Not like you would throw me one. You don’t even want to go out for that drink after work like I keep asking you to.”

You huff, turning to face him after you thank the bartender for setting your drink down. “Because it’s just to - to mock me. You don’t like me. I’m not your friend. We act like we like each other on tv but that’s it. I have a face for radio, remember?” You remind him of what he said to you the first day you met five years ago.

Max stares at you for a second and then laughs. Bending over the bar and laughing so hard tears come to his eyes. “You thought I meant that?” He gasps out, looking over at you and laughing again. “Sweetcheeks- that was- I was yanking your fucking chain.” He admits, calming down enough to speak. “You’re fucking gorgeous and you know it. Charming, witty. The whole package.”

You stare at him, shocked at his outburst. He’s flirted with you, especially on screen, but to hear him say he thinks you’re gorgeous…it takes you back. You pick up your drink, taking another gulp. “You gave me a fucking complex. I- I thought I wasn’t good enough.” You hiss at him, “I always thought - well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m going to go suck up to the execs before they leave. Try to keep my job another year.” You say and pick up your drink, striding over to Mr. Parker, the head of daytime tv.

Max shakes his head, watching your hips sway as you stride away from him. He had never imagined you would have taken him seriously. You always treat him like a joke, so why would you believe that? Of course you’re gorgeous, the network thrived on beautiful people and made it their mission to hire the prettiest talent in the business. Max orders another drink for himself and for you before deciding to join you. A little corporate ass kissing was never a bad move for the career.

You smile as Mr. Parker looks down at your cleavage. It’s not the healthiest dynamic at the network but you let some things slide in the interest of keeping your job. You giggle at his lame joke, trying to act like he’s so clever, when Max comes over and replaces your now empty glass with a new drink. “Ah Phillips, I was just telling your pretty co-anchor here about some changes we will be making to the outfits. I’m thinking we could get away with a couple of inches higher, don’t you?”

Max lifts his brows and pretends to consider it. It’s an insult and everyone here knows it. “Why don’t we have the weather girl in a bikini?” He suggests. “But for our hard hitting stories, I think the length of the dress won’t matter, we’re behind a desk.”

“I was thinking maybe our lady here could be standing up. Presenting in front of the screens like they do on other shows. That way she can show off those stems.” He says and you shake your head, “the whole point of the show is for me to be beside Max. That’s what the viewers like, that’s what they want.” You explain and Mr. Parker hums, “we shall see. I’ll speak to the producers…see what they think.” You nod, offering him a forced smile. You know the producers will have your back on this ridiculous suggestion.

Max glances at you and knows that you are unhappy with the idea and he will back you up. “So what’s your golf game looking like, Paul?” He asks, hoping to steer the conversation on to friendlier topics. “Every time I’m in the weeds, I think of your epic shot.” Paul puffs up proudly and nods, starting to tell Max about his latest game.

You down the rest of your drink and smile at your boss, “excuse me.” You say and make your way back across the event room to the bar, ordering another drink. You shouldn’t drink so much but between all the men in the room that look at you like a piece of meat, you’re ready to get drunk and forget the reality that your time is limited because of your age. They’ll want some twenty year old to take your place soon. You lean against the bar and thank the bartender when he sets another cosmo down. You sigh and turn to pick it up when you feel someone behind you. “Looking gorgeous as ever.” The voice of the foreign correspondent, Jack. 

You turn to face him, a stiff smile on your face. “Jack.” You greet him, hating how he leans in even closer. His disgusting cologne wafting over you. He’s always been a little intrusive.

His eyes are dark and his smirk is supposed to be charming, but it comes off as creepy. “What are you doin’ over here by yourself?” He asks. “Rarely ever see you off Phillips’ dick.”

“I’ve never been on his dick. Ever.” You clarify, “I’m just sipping my drink. Enjoying the party.” You hum and take a step back from him. 

“Nice to hear. You could be on my dick if you want.” Jack smirks, licking his lower lip and you recoil. 

“No. I- I don’t want that.” You say, shaking your head and trying to let him down gently.

“You know, you’d probably move up from the morning show if you weren’t such a stuck up, frigid cunt.” Jack hisses, a scowl on his face, pissed off at being shot by the morning bitch. He is a foreign correspondent, respected and revered. He shoots you a nasty little grin. “Pretty soon your tits won’t be perky enough to keep your job and you’ll be doing the weather in Kalamazoo.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “and I’ll be telling everyone about your unwanted advances to me every single time you’re near me. I will tell HR and get you fired.” You hiss and Jack growls at you, “you’re a fucking bitch.” 

You smile, “thank you, Jack.” You remain tall just as Max appears, his hand on your back. “Everything okay here?” He asks and you stiffen slightly, “everything is fine, isn’t it Jack?” You ask the correspondent, who scoffs and walks off. 

“What happened?” Max asks, a frown on his face. 

“Jack was being an asshole. As per usual.” You huff and turn back towards your drink.

There’s more to it than that, but you will never confide in him. Apparently he can’t even try to pretend to care. He pulls his hand away, and slips it into his pocket. “He’s an old drunk that thinks the weather girl is still picked on a casting couch.” Max snorts. “No means yes to him.” He warns you. “You say I’ll spike your drink, but I wouldn’t put it past that prick.” He scoffs.

You sigh, leaning against the counter, “you’re right. He - I’ve heard stories about the interns and some of the make-up girls.” You confess, rubbing your neck, “you know…you’re not as bad as him. You’re a good man really. I just like seeing that vein pop in your forehead.” You confess, starting to feel giddy from the booze.

Max snorts and rolls his eyes, his own alcohol consumption starting to make his body hum. “You just say that because you have to pretend to like me.” He huffs, sending you a pout before he slides into a grin to cover his hurt feelings. “You think I’m pretty though. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it.”

You scoff, rearing back from him, until you soften and lean closer again. “You are pretty. So pretty.” You confess, reaching out to run your finger down his cheek, “unfair how handsome you are.” You whine slightly, “I don’t have to pretend.” You admit with a whisper.

​​He shivers at your touch and leans into it the drinks clouding his judgment and making him speak before thinking about it. “You think I’m unfair?” He huffs. “I have to constantly hide the fucking hard on I’ve got around you.” He pouts. “Do you know how fucking distracting your perfume is? You don’t need perfume for tv, and when you’re near me, all I can smell is you and imagine….”

The booze doesn’t let you question the validity of his confession. You decide to revel in it and you lean in towards him, “imagine…?” You question, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

“Imagine you.” Max is too wrapped up in his confession to realize he shouldn’t say this to you. Shouldn’t say this at all. “Head between your thighs, tasting you, making you moan my name so sweetly before I slide inside you.” He pants breathlessly, cock twitching in his pants. “Watching you cum because of me, because of the way I touch you.”

You can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips at the thought. “Maxwell Phillips.” You gasp, your stomach twisting with arousal as you soak the lace panties you’re wearing. You glance around and are grateful that no one notices when you grab Max’s hand and drag him through the crowd and out into the hallway. “I want you to fuck me, Max.” You beg him breathlessly, grabbing onto his tie to pull him into the nearest empty room, a function room with tables and chairs.

“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and he’s not hesitant, he’s shocked as shit. But the way you are dragging him closer makes every caution sign in his mind filter away as you eagerly press your lips to his as you continue to back into the dimly lit room. “Fuck.” He moans, pressing against you when your ass hits a table and his hands are cradling your hips, helping you up onto it as your tongue slides into his mouth.

You don’t think about the consequences of this. Deciding to just feel for once, you groan as Max slides his tongue against yours and his hands explore your body. You moan echoes in the empty room as he kisses your jaw and he settles between your thighs as you open them for him.

He turns greedy. Hands filling themselves with your flesh, groaning into your mouth at the taste of the liquor from your tongue. The pure sense of you. The heat of your skin makes him twitch and groan again when he presses two fingers to the damp core of your lace panties.

You whimper, “please Max” into his jaw as he rubs your clit through the lace. He doesn’t deny you as he slides his fingers beneath the elastic of your panties and presses his manicured fingers against the bundle of nerves. “Oh God.” You moan, sliding your hands down his chest to fumble with his belt, trying to undo the stupidly expensive buckle until you can finally reach in and pull his hard cock out of his equally expensive pants. “Fucking hell.” You curse as you wrap your fingers around the girth.

He chuckles, kissing along your jaw. 

“Try hiding that all the time.” He jokes, breaking off into a groan when you squeeze him firmly and start to stroke his cock. “Fuck, baby.” He whines, hips jerking forward into your grip and he twists his wrist to press his thumb against your clit while starting to work two fingers inside you.

You pant as he pushes two thick digits into you. You hate to admit it but you’ve imagined his hands on you, inside of you, many times during segments where the camera is off of you. You jerk his cock, swiping your thumb over the head to gather the pre-cum that has gathered there. “I need - I need you to - oh shit.” You moan when he curls his fingers just right inside of you.

“That what you needed?” He groans, biting along your neck gently while he’s trying not to get too excited. Your cunt is so tight and he doesn’t want to cum too quickly when he finally gets to fuck you. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight. My cock is gonna feel so good inside you.” He moans, kissing along your chest and nudging his nose between your breasts as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Yes. Oh shit. Max. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me-” You cut yourself off with a squeal as you clamp down around his fingers. Your grip on his cock loosening as your orgasm hits you and you pant his name into his hair as he licks along the top of your breast. “Fuck me.” You beg, “need you inside of me, Phillips.”

He doesn’t even consider birth control, he’s listened to the segments where you’ve talked about your own choice and knows you well enough to know you don’t have anything. His fingers are soaked and he pulls them out with a groan of your name. Batting your hands away to wrap around his cock and soak it with your juices.

You spread your legs wider and watch him as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing inside of you with a low groan. “Oh God, Max.” You whine, throwing your head back as he pushes into you and stretches you out.

He hisses as your tight walls surround him. You’re so much tighter and hotter than he ever imagined and he imagined it a lot. Slowly bottoming out and groaning your name again as he tries to keep from cumming. “Holy shit babe.”

You slide your hands under his bespoke jacket, clawing at his back as he twitches inside of you. "I need you to move." You plead. You'll think back to this moment later and cringe at how needy you sound but for right now, you need him to fuck you like you've secretly wanted him to since you started working together.

“Fuck.” Max can’t resist you. One hand planted on the table beside your head and he draws his hips back to plunge into you again. Enjoying the sharp gasp you give him and craving more as he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Starting to thrust into you with harsh, sharp slaps of his hips that rock the table while you cling to him and writhe underneath him.

You slide your tongue against his as he rocks into you. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could hear you. The music is faint from the function room where your work event is being held but you don’t care, too busy focusing on Max and the way he’s thrusting into you like his life depends on it. “Fuck, this is - it’s so good, baby.” You whine and wrap your legs around him, your heels falling to the floor.

Max grunts, agreeing completely as he bites his lip. “So- fuck- so good.” He groans your name again and bites down on your lip hungrily. “Baby, fuck, you’re so tight. How- fuck, you’re so good.”

"Ke-Kegals." You reveal breathlessly, "gotta - gotta keep fit to stay on TV." You whimper when he hits deep and you lift your hips up to meet his thrusts. "Keep going, Phillips, don't you dare stop." You demand when his pace stutters.

“So demanding.” He huffs, flashing you a grin as he nods. Taking a deep breath and rocking his hips harder. “Fuck, it’s your fault. So fucking tight.”

You shake your head, closing your eyes, "you're so fucking thick, Max. God, I don't - no wonder you have so many damn flings." You pant and he drops his hips just right to make you gasp when he hits something devastating.

He chuckles breathlessly, not even bothering to admit that he doesn’t have as many flings as he might have led you to believe. You would never think he was telling you the truth. “You’re tight.”

“Shit, Max. I- I’m gonna- just like that. Keep going like that.” You demand and groan when he keeps hitting that spot. “That’s it baby. Oh shit. Max!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock as he makes you cum hard. Harder than you have for longer than you’d ever care to admit.

“Thaaaaaaat’s it.” He groans, eyes nearly rolling back and he has to put more effort into fucking you from how hard you squeeze hum. “That’s fucking it. Cream all over me baby.” He groans. “Soak my cock with that pretty cunt.”

His words would usually make you cringe if you weren’t practically shaking beneath him as he makes you cum. “Oh God. It’s so good. So good. I want - want you to cum.” You plead, pressing your heels into his ass to push him impossibly deeper inside of you.

“Gonna - fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He pants out breathlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead but he ignores it. Too lost in the sensation of your cunt. “Fuck, fuck you’re so fucking wet, baby.” He praises. “Gonna cum, fuck, fuck-“ he lets out a strangled groan of your name when his hips stutter and he thrusts deep one last time, painting your walls with ropes of cum.

Moaning in delight as he fills you up, you caress his back under his jacket, and tilt your head up to kiss along his jaw. “Not too bad, Phillips.” You tease breathlessly as he rocks himself through his orgasm.

He huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head, rocking slowly as he pumps every spurt of cum into you. “Not too bad yourself.” He grunts, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more before he starts to pull out of you to watch his cum drip. “Now that’s a pretty sight.” He hums, delighted to see his cum leaking out of your cunt.

You roll your eyes and sit up, standing on shaking legs to pick up your panties. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You’re gonna go back in there and act like this didn’t happen. We have to act like this didn’t happen, you understand?” You ask him, your eyes wide and pleading. If everyone knew you and Max had sex, you’d be branded a slut and he’d be revered for conquering you.

Max’s plan to ask you if you want to get out of here dies on his tongue and he adopts an easy grin. “No problem, sweet cheeks.” He chuckles and looks away from you as he tucks his cock back into his pants. “Can’t have anyone thinking that something happened. Might keep me from getting lucky with that new intern tonight.” He lies and starts to straighten his tie and smooth down his vest. Once he feels like he can look at you and not show you how upset he is, he tosses you a wink. “Thanks for the sex, baby.” He hums as he turns around and whistles while strolling out of the empty room.

You watch him walk out and you swallow harshly, ignoring the way your eyes sting with tears. It’s not his fault that you gave in and now you wonder what will happen to your working relationship. You let your guard slip. You can’t let that happen again. Walking out of the room on shaky legs, you make your way back into your work event, grabbing your clutch from the side and you don’t say another word as you swiftly exit the party, ignoring Max’s stare as his cum settles in your panties while you quickly leave before anyone notices what happened.

Sighing softly as you walk out of the party, Max wonders why you let him touch you. Was it a drunken mistake? A calculated ploy to get him fired for misconduct? He frowns as he turns back to the bar and motions for the bartender. He will pretend like it never happened and see if you do the same.

The weekend passes and you freak out about sleeping with Max. It’s changed everything. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to look him in the eye as your car travels to the studio. The producer calls your name, bringing you out of your thoughts and all you can do is nod. You have no idea what they were saying but soon, you’re entering the building and making your way up to the floor for the show. “Good morning.” Your intern, Natalie, greets you with your morning coffee and you thank her. Praying you don’t see Max until you get on set, you settle into your chair to review the segments and wait for the make-up and hair artists.

Max rolls his shoulders back and purposefully changes his step to one that is lighthearted and full of energy. “How are we doing this gorgeous morning?” He asks as he steps into the hair and makeup room, seeing you already in your chair and he hates how his heart pangs because he didn’t hear from you at all. Not that it’s surprising, just disappointing. “Everyone have a good weekend? Mine was amazing.” He boasts, waggling his brows playfully. “Didn’t get out of the bed, if you know what I mean.” He lies, knowing he spent the weekend depressed and wondering what the fuck happened Friday night. 

He breezes by you and settles down into his own chair, pulling out the eye mask he carries with him with the serum that costs an arm and a leg, the promise of less wrinkles meaning he will pay any price. “Need some more rest.”

You swallow harshly, keeping your eyes on the script. The ghost of his touch has haunted you all weekend and you don’t know how to feel about his nonchalant attitude to you and the artists in the room. You wonder who took up his bed after you, your stomach twisting at the idea of it being that young new intern that seems eager to please. You turn to look at him when he places the eye mask on his face and your expression is one of heartbreak and longing - at least that’s what the make-up and hair stylists will say later when they gossip over coffee. “Busy weekend?” You ask eventually, trying to sound lighthearted.

“Yep.” He pops the p and sighs with a nostalgia that is solely for you and the night he got to touch you. “You? How was your weekend? Anything fun and new?” He asks, tilting his head up and removing the mask now that his stylist is here. His eyes focus on you with a serious gaze.

You can’t tell him you sat around all weekend having a crisis about what happened between you. “Oh, I was busy. I went out. Had dinner. Some drinks.” You say vaguely, “had a late night on Saturday so spent most of Sunday in bed.” You smirk, forcing yourself to give the impression that you weren’t alone.

“Ohhhh ho! Someone got lucky!” Max plasters a cocky look on his face and waggles his brows even though he’s pissed you fled and apparently went to fuck someone else. “Was it good? Bet it was good, but I would have been better, sweet cheeks.” He teases like he normally would have, but the words taste slightly bitter.

“In your dreams, Phillips.” You spit half heartedly, not wanting to elaborate on your lie as you hate the fact that he’s ruined everyone else for you. You’ve never cum so fast and so hard. Most men finish before you can and then won’t even help you get off. You’ve never felt that kind of electricity. The artist's exchange looks behind you as you and Max are distracted by your own turbulent thoughts. “Besides, sounds like you were warm and cozy in your bed with a new floozy.”

“You know how it is.” Max shrugs carelessly. “Friday night plans fell through so I had to improvise.” He stares at you for a moment longer before turning his attention to the hair stylist. “Can you make my hair extra shiny this morning, babe?” He asks, dropping his eyes to his hair and reaching up to fix a hair out of place. “Want to look my best for the cameras.”

You huff, shaking your head, “always the same. Always wanting the spotlight and - and always being so goddamn selfish.” You growl at him, batting the brush away from your face as you stand up and mutter about needing the bathroom before you rush out of the room. You hate that Max doesn’t even seem to remember that you had sex on Friday night. You were just another notch on his belt.

Max’s eyes follow you out of the room and the frown on his face isn’t even registering to him, although it’s being noticed by the other people in the room. Their glances to each other pointed and the hairstylist finally answers him. “Sure, Max. No problem.” She hums, running her fingers through his hair and Max sighs. “Just do whatever.”

You stare into the mirror in the bathroom, preparing yourself to head back out there and act like nothing is wrong. One drunken night with Max and your world is spinning out of control. You’ve worked so hard, focused on your career, and now you feel like you’re losing it all because you can’t stop thinking about how he felt, how he smelt, how he sounded. His moan of your name seems to play on a loop in your head and it’s driving you crazy. Hands shaking, you gather yourself as you head back into the make up room, glad to see Max is gone as you get ready to go on air.

Sitting behind the desk, Max tries to shake off the feeling that you are upset at him. You are the one who had left. Fled the party after begging him to fuck you. He’s kind of pissed off about it now. Setting him up to look like an asshole. He shuffles through the notes for the upcoming show and clears his throat, trying to get the smell of you out of his mind, his cock refusing to soften.

You spritz on your perfume, just to torture Max after what he told you, and you step onto the set to sit down at the desk next to Max. The team comes over to adjust your mic and you pick up your notes.

As soon as you sit down, a cloud of your perfume settles over him and makes Max groan. His cock twitching in his pants and he drops his head into his hand. “Max. You good?” The producer calls out from beside the camera man and he has to lift his head and pretend he’s not incredibly turned on. 

“All good, just remembered I didn’t turn off the coffee maker this morning.” He lies.

You turn your head to look at him, eyebrows raised, and you think that the groan is in annoyance at having to sit next to you. “I should’ve called in sick.” You mutter and shake your head before the AD announces the countdown to live. When you are counted down to one, you plaster a smile on your face and straighten your back, eager to do a good job even if inside, you’re angry and confused at Max and his reaction like Friday night was nothing.

“Good morning and welcome to the Daily New Show.” Max tries to keep himself even more energetic than normal to make up for his turbulent feelings. “I hope everyone is having a fabulous Monday morning and we’ve got an impressive show for you today. As you know, it is Valentine’s Day so I hope you’re all prepared. I know I am.” He chuckles and turns towards you and introduces you as his lovely co-host. “Did you like those chocolates I put in your room this morning?”

You know Max didn’t put anything in your room but you play along, “of course. I’ll be enjoying some of those with my coffee later. Did you get my present?” You tease him playfully on camera, knowing you didn’t get him anything either but you want to make the viewers think you and him are the best of friends.

“No…” his eyes widen playfully and he tosses you a grin. “Whaddya get me?” He asks, knowing you didn’t get him anything. “Hopefully something good, because I’m worth it.” He winks at the camera and chuckles, knowing that you would not be thinking the same thing.

You shake your head, "you'll have to wait and find out. I'm sure you're gonna love it." You promise with a grin and turn back towards the camera. "Talking of gifts, let's go to Katie who has some last minute gift ideas for those who need something for the one they love." You smile at the camera and slump when they count you out. "Chocolates." You scoff, "you've never even gotten me a coffee."

Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “And? Not like you’ve ever given me anything either? Maybe looks of disgust, but I don’t count those, sweet cheeks.” The sad thing is, he had bought you some chocolates, the first year you were on air for your birthday, but you hand said you wanted no reminders of getting older so he hadn’t given them to you. “Only another fifty-six minutes in my company, you’ll survive.”

You sigh and sit up straight, unsure of what to say. You hate that you’ve reverted back to your old bickering, knowing that this won’t get you anywhere after what happened on Friday. You’re confused about how you feel. You wanted to ask him to come home with you after you slept together but you know you’d put your job on the line if something went wrong and Max would always be looking for the next best thing.

Max sighs softly when you don’t say anything and rolls his shoulders back as the countdown to the cameras being back on you starts. He should just forget Friday ever happened, it’s obvious that you regret it. “Thank you, Katie. Hopefully all the men out there without a plan can get it together and not disappoint their ladies, right?” He asks you, turning his head to look at you seriously. “Although I’m more of a romantic dinner at home, myself. Candlelight, soft music, bottle of wine.” He shrugs. “Nothing like a homemade carbonara.” It’s scripted, but true. He did prefer evenings in. 

You offer him a nod and a smile, “sounds like my kind of romantic night in, Max.” You wink and continue with the prompter. It’s hard to ignore the way he stares at you sometimes. The intensity in his look has you shifting in your chair and when you are countered out, you immediately stand up and remove your mic, making your way into your dressing room. It’s impossible to forget the way he felt inside of you, the way he sounded. You can’t forget him and it’s torturing you. You wipe your forehead and place your hands on your hips as the door opens and you turn to see Max standing there. “I can’t do this anymore.” You admit, “I can’t sit next to you every day and act like nothing happened between us.”

“You?” He snorts and shakes his head. “You are the one that left. Walked away without a word and you didn’t call me. So how am I supposed to know what you want? You want me to quit? Too bad.” He scoffs. “You will just have to deal.” He’s pissed off now. Pissed that it meant so little to you and now you want him gone so you don’t have to live with your mistake.

“I- I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about how you sounded. How you felt. I- it’s torturing me.” You choke, “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I thought it was for the best and I figured you would act like it didn’t happen and go back to your one night stands but - shit, Phillips. I fucking hate you for getting under my skin like this.” You hiss at him, pissed at yourself as well.

“I don’t have a lot of one night stands.” Max admits, shaking his head when you scoff. “You were- you don’t fucking see it?” He asks, lunging forward and pressing into your dressing room so the door closes and grabs your neck to drag you closer to kiss. “You don’t see that I’m crazy about you?” He hisses before he kisses you feverishly.

Your eyes widen at first contact until your brain stops working and you relax into him. Letting him kiss you, his fingers digging into the back of your neck, and you moan into his mouth until your senses return. You push him away, "stop. We - we can't do this. If it goes wrong. It will go wrong and then our careers - we can't do this, Max."

“Goddamn you.” Max hisses, stepping back and his eyes are filled with nothing but hurt. “You only give a damn about yourself and you’re fucking toying with me.” He clenches his jaw and turns around. “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” He spits, storming out of the room, humiliated that he put himself on the line again and you are rejecting him.

You stare at him as he slams the door behind him, your lips tingling from the kiss and your hands shake as you touch them as if trying to erase his kiss from your skin. It doesn’t work. You feel your eyes sting as you grab your things and change into your leggings and hoodie before you head home. Your head is aching and you try to think about the reasons why it would be wrong to give Max a chance.

Max berates himself the entire way back to his apartment. Hating how he had admitted to you that he doesn’t have flings. Knowing that you would just use it against him. His phone contacts land on his agent and he wonders if he should call him. Let him know what’s going on in case you decide to go for the throat and in the end, he can’t do it. He will quietly put in for evening anchor and let you have the morning show. It’s what you want anyway.

You bite your lower lip as you stand outside of Max’s building, the doorman recognising you and sending you up. You thank him and fiddle with the bag in your hand, the present you bought for the man you’ve secretly been in love with for years. You ring the doorbell and wait for Max to answer the door.

Max had changed from the suit he had worn to comfortable sweats and a t-shirt, figuring he would spend the rest of the day wallowing in self pity and order DoorDash for dinner since he was all alone for yet another Valentine’s Day. Groaning when the doorbell peels, he wonders if it’s the lady from the third floor who loves to come give her his opinion on the show. She’s old and her husband died last year, so he tries not to shoo her away too quickly, but he’s not in the mood for company. Dragging himself off the couch he opens the door to find you standing there, no make up and in leggings, looking more beautiful than you deserve. “What do you want?” He demands.

You stare at him, unused to seeing him in relaxed clothing, he looks younger. You sigh and shift from one foot to the other. “I was wrong. To push you away. I can’t - I can’t keep denying myself the chance to be happy because I am terrified that everything I have worked for will go up in flames. I have been in love with you since we started working together and that day I saw you speak to that old lady when we did the segment on Alzheimer’s and you were so sweet and kind. I had never seen you like that before, and it made me realize that I had fallen in love with you, but I kept that hidden because I was scared. I was fucking terrified Max, that you would reject me because you have the world at your feet and can have any woman you want, what would make me special enough for you to love me? then you kept mentioning all your flings and I knew that I would never get the chance to be with you. I didn’t want to risk everything but Friday, I put everything on the line and then realized that everything could go wrong and I got scared. I got so fucking scared and I am so sorry that I acted like nothing happened when all I want is to have you again and again until you send me away.”

Max stares at you, digesting the verbal book you’ve just thrown at him and he drops his shoulders. “Do you want to come in?” He asks, unsure if you are planning on running away again or if you want to actually talk. He opens the door wider and none of the normally sarcastic comments come out of his mouth, unable to put on a front any more.

You deflate, nodding as you step into his apartment, and you admire the decor. Masculine but warm and you know he probably paid an interior designer to help him out. He shuts the door behind you and you fiddle with the bag in your hand. “I’m sorry to just show up.” You murmur, glancing around his apartment.

“Not like I had plans tonight.” Max shrugs it off and sighs. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, tea, tequila?” He swallows and rocks his jaw before you can even answer. “Why did you leave? Did you regret it?”

You stare at him, wondering if he heard everything you said. “Did you not- I left because I was scared you’d reject me. That I was just a conquest and you’d go back to your flings. I didn’t want to ruin our careers by getting messy emotions involved. Because - because I was a coward.”

“But you aren’t a coward.” Max argues, frowning fiercely at the idea. “You’re fucking amazing. Powerful, confident, a real ball buster when you have to be. You push boundaries and demand respect - and earn it.” He tells you. “You’re gorgeous, smart, kind of funny, brilliant at reading an audience and you have so much compassion. But one thing you are not….is a coward.”

His words make your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “I was - I am scared. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of reaching for you, for something that could ruin me. In every way in life. I love you, Max, and that night…I broke. I couldn’t hold back from what I wanted anymore and I was an asshole to run away. I don’t want to run anymore. I know what I want. I know how I feel.”

“I thought I had you that night.” Max admits quietly, your words scaring him slightly and making him wish this had happened years ago. “I thought I finally got what I had wanted for so long.” He sends you a small grin. “Was going to ask if you wanted to leave the party. Go get dinner that night.”

You shake your head, tears stinging in your eyes a little. “I shouldn’t have - God, I was an idiot. I should’ve stayed. I’m sorry.” You confess and he stares at you again. “I- I can go. I just wanted to give you your gift.” You say, handing him the bag.

“You- you got me something?” He asks, taking the bag and then reaching for your arm as you try to turn away. “Wait.” He begs quietly. “Don’t run away again.”

You don’t move, looking down at his hand on your arm, and you nod, turning towards him again. “I want you to open it.” You say, “and read the note.” You tell him and he nods, setting the bag down on the counter.

The box is one that he recognizes and he shoots you a confused look. “I don’t-“ he starts but you shake your head. “Read the note.” You repeat and he nods, diving back into the bag to pull out a red envelope.

You watch him open the envelope. You had them write on the note “to the one I adore” and you hope he doesn’t reject you. You wanted to show him how you feel, to show him that you know him. Even down to his dream watch.

“I don’t- I can’t believe you bought this.” He admits, looking up at you and looks at you with amazement. “It’s the exact watch I’ve been wanting.” He admits. “I just could never justify buying it for myself. How did you-?”

“Saved up. I got a bonus when I resigned my contract. Got myself a purse and I only made it this far because of you…wanted to say thank you for being there for me every day.” You tell him shyly, “I wanted to show you how I felt without actually telling you.”

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head and sets the card down before he steps closer to you. “I can’t believe you.” He reaches up and caresses your cheek. “I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything.”

You shake your head against his palm, “it’s fine. I didn’t know when I would give you this. I’ve had it for a while. Trying to summon up the courage to tell you how I felt, to not be terrified.” You bite your lip as his dark eyes burn into yours.

“You shouldn’t have been terrified.” Max scoffs quietly. “I’ve not actually slept with anyone in months, nearly a  year.” He admits. “Too busy being hung up on my co-worker.”

You lean into his palm and reach out to caress his cheeks with your hands. “Gladys the cleaner?” You tease and he chuckles, “damn. How did you know?” He asks and you giggle, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. “Please don’t break my heart.” You plead, “because it’s yours.”

“I sat home all weekend and sulked because you left.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “I don’t want something casual. If we do this, I want it to be a real relationship. Dates in, dates out in town, sleepovers and being disgusting together.” He smirks at you. “Everything.”

“People already think we are fucking. The unofficially married couple of daytime tv. I don’t see why we can’t make it official? I want to be disgusting with you, Phillips.” You grin, “I want everything with you.”

“Yeah?” Max grins back at you and leans in to nudge his nose against yours. “You know what we didn’t do Friday?” He asks teasingly. “I didn’t see how fucking hard you can cum on my tongue.”

You whimper, your hands sliding down to caress his neck and his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You can find out if you want? I want to see how much you cum down my throat too.” You murmur, sliding your hand lower until you’re rubbing his semi through his sweats. “I gotta say, I love you in casual wear.”

“Yeah?” He groans quietly, hardening under your touch. “I think I love you in leggings. You like it for the easier access?” He twitches when you squeeze him and pant softly. “Baby. I- fuck, can I touch you?” He begs, a gentleman despite his bragging. “Please let me touch you.”

“I think I’ll have to kill you if you don’t touch me, Phillips.” You demand playfully, reaching into his sweats to pull his hard cock out. “God, I didn’t get a good look and - no wonder you’re so damn cocky.” You groan and let go of him to spit in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his girth.

Max would chuckle, but he’s too busy diving under your shirt to cup your tits. “Want you naked this time.” He moans, rocking his hips into your hand. “Touch you everywhere. Fuck, baby, I- should I eat you out first, have you sit on my face or kneel between those pretty thighs?” The good thing about getting up so fucking early is that it’s not even noon yet, he’s got the rest of the day to spend with you if you don’t run away again.

You whimper when he squeezes your tits over your bra. "Fuck, Max. However you want me. I am yours." You promise, "just touch me." You plead, pressing your thighs together to get some friction.

Max leans in and bites your jaw. “Come on, baby.” He coos, excited to touch you properly. “Want to show you my bedroom.” He teases. “Give you the full Max Phillips tour.”

You would normally roll your eyes but right now, you desperately need him. The ghost of his touch has been on your mind since Friday and you need it, you need him. He guides you into his bedroom and it's clean, the bed is made. “I like your style, Phillips.” You smile at him as he lets go of your hand so he can pull your shirt over your head.

“Can’t sleep in a messy room.” He admits, although he tosses your shirt to the floor with a grin. “But I will happily leave your clothes on the floor allllllll night.” He promises, unhooking your bra with two fingers before dragging it down so he can wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

You gasp and arch your chest into his mouth, your hand quickly finding purchase in his hair. “Shit Max.” You whine when he bites down and you love it, you love how he seems so hungry for you.

Max growls against your skin, loving how you start to tug on his hair. His hands tug down at your leggings before he pulls away to push you down onto his bigger than needed bed. Grinning when you bounce slightly and he goes back to attacking your pants. “Fuck.”

You help him by kicking them off and his fingers are hooking into your panties, dragging them down your legs. “Fuck baby. I need you.” You beg, dripping wet for him and his hair is not gelled, falling into his face and your heart clenches at the grin on his face as he crawls up your body.

“You’ve got me.” He promises, stopping to nip, lick and kiss different places on your body. Stopping and staring at you with a serious expression on his face. “You’re beautiful.” He murmurs softly before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You slide your hands down to caress his back as his tongue slides into your mouth. His cock is heavy against your thigh and you grab his shirt in your hands, wanting to see more of him. “Take this off.” You demand, tugging on his shirt.

He chuckles, pushing onto his knees to comply. “So pushy,” he teases, grinning as he tosses it away and starts to tug his sweats down over his ass. “I like it. Order me around baby, tell me to lick your pussy until you cream in my face.”

You giggle at the enthusiastic look on his face. “Want you to lick my pussy until I soak your face.” You demand, grabbing his face to drag him down between your thighs, maybe pulling on his hair a little too hard but his resounding groan tells you he likes it.

Max loves when a woman is demanding, taking what she wants because he also loves to do the same. A true switch when it comes to the bedroom. “Fuck, you have such a pretty pussy.” He groans when he sees your wet folds. “So tight too.” He tells you before he lunges forward to bury his tongue inside you.

Your cry echoes in his large bedroom and you moan his name, your hips immediately thrusting up into his mouth as he slides his tongue through your folds. “Holy shit, Max.” You throw your head back as he sucks on your clit.

He chuckles against your clit, sliding a hand between your thighs and he starts to rub your entrance to gather your slick before curling two fingers inside you. Loving how quickly you clench down on them as he licks at your nerves expertly.

His fingers and his tongue are magic. No wonder he has the reputation he has when it's so damn good. You whimper and lift your leg onto his shoulder so his fingers push deeper. "Holy - holy shit." You choke when he curls them just right and his breath washes over your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” Max coos, completely obsessed with the way you whimper his name. “Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum all over my fingers and face, pretty girl.” He keeps curling his fingers and sucks your clit back into his mouth as he watches you intently, wanting to witness the moment you cum.

"Oh shit. Shit. Just- fuck - just like that." You whine as he sucks your clit like those stupid caramels he unwraps between segments. You can't deny him as he curls his fingers just right and you cum, clamping down on his thick digits.

You’re louder than that Friday, of course you are. You are in a private bedroom where you won’t be discovered if you scream his name. Plus, this orgasm is completely centered around you, Max continues to pump his fingers and suck in your clit to work you through it. Greedy for your sounds and the way you soak his fingers.

When it becomes too much, you push him away, gasping his name, and you grab his shoulder, dragging him up your body. "I wanna-" You don't voice your desires as you shift to push him back on the bed, shifting to kneel between his legs. "God." You murmur as you wrap your fingers around his cock. 

"Baby. You don't-" His protest dies on his lips as you lean forward to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” Max hisses in pleasure as your mouth takes his cock. Twitching and groaning your name when he feels you swallow around him. “Never-never thought I’d see this.” He admits breathlessly. “But I love the view.”

Your eyes crinkle as you smile around his dick, taking him deeper, and you love the way his jaw drops. "You are gorgeous." He murmurs and you slide your hand along his chest, caressing his skin as you start to bob your head.

It’s quite possibly the best fucking blowjob he’s ever had. Not sure if it’s because you are so eager to blow him, or that it’s just you, but you have him breathless and gripping the duvet quickly. “Baby, baby, you are so good. You’re gonna make me cum and I can’t do that right now.” He whines after you swallow around him again.

You reluctantly pull off of his cock, moving fast to straddle his thighs and you shuffle closer, sitting up until you can grip his cock and notch him at your entrance. You look into those dark eyes and sink slowly down onto him.

“Shiiiiiiiiiit.” Max grabs your hips but he doesn’t try to control you, just hanging on while your walls surround him. “Can we do the show just like this?” He pants out, “you sitting on my cock? Fuck, baby.”

“We’d either get no viewers or a ton of viewers for daytime tv.” You giggle, caressing his chest and you lean in to kiss his neck. “You feel so good inside of me, Max.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you lift your hips until you’re sinking back down onto him.

Max blows out a loud breath, sliding his hands up and down your back. “I’m trying not to blow my load here, sweet cheeks. Don’t mistake that. Fuck, you feel so amazing. Like a fucking glove.”

You moan, loving the way he twitches inside of you. “All yours. Yours baby.” You promise and lean in to kiss him softly before you start to rock your hips, taking him deep inside of you every time you sink down onto his cock. He’s so deep and you aren’t in a rush for this to be over.

The pace is slower than before and Max groans every time you rock your hips. “Fuck baby.” He whispers, turning his head to kiss along your neck. Loving how you are slowly unraveling him.

You rock back onto him, caressing his neck and sliding your fingers through his hair. “God, I love you.” You murmur, shifting to press your lips to his, your hands cupping his cheeks.

His breath catches, hearing you say it like that for the first time. “I love you too, baby.” He promises, lifting up to kiss you thoroughly. His hand slides up to your neck and he drags you closer, loving how your tits press against his chest and he slides his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

You savor the kiss, moaning into his mouth, and you whimper his name as he kisses along your jaw. You bounce on his cock a little faster, wanting him to cum for you. “Fuck, baby. I- I want you to fill me up.” You murmur, nudging your nose against his.

“Shiiiit.” Max hisses. “That is so fucking sexy.” He admits with a breathless laugh. Watching your tits bounce and he reaches back to slap your ass.

You groan as he helps you bounce harder on his cock. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes! Just like that. Oh God. You’re hitting just right.” You ramble, lost in the sensations as he rocks you on his cock and the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit.

Max chuckles at how desperate you sound, how greedily your cunt clenches around him. Groaning as he rocks you harder and plants his feet to thrust into you. “Want you to cum.” He grunts. “On my cock this time.”

You whimper, "gonna - oh God. Ma- Max. Oh fuck. Maxxxx." You squeal. clamping down on his cock and you cry out as he thrusts up at the right angle and sends you over the edge, making you shake against him as you orgasm.

Max chokes out your name, wrapping his arms around you and starting to thrust up into you wildly. Letting his own desires overtake the sedate pace and chase his own orgasm now that you’ve cum.

You let him thrust up into you, making you moan as he extends your climax. “Baby. I need - I want you to cum for me.” You beg, kissing his neck, and you end up biting his earlobe. “Cum for me, Max.”

“Ohhh shit.” You biting him throws him over the edge. Squeezing you tight, he rocks his hips up to bury himself inside you. Groaning as his spurts of cum paint your walls.

You caress his neck, running your finger through his hair as you kiss all over his face. His fingers dig into your flesh but you don’t care, loving how he feels surrounding you. “I love you, Phillips.” You murmur, enjoying how he feels surrounding you. “I’m sorry I ran away.” You murmur, knowing you aren’t running now.

“I love you too.” Max hums softly. “If you run this time, I’m coming after you. I don’t give a damn who knows it.” His arms loosen slightly and he looks into your eyes when you lean back. “Will you go to dinner with me? Not tonight, because we couldn’t get reservations anywhere, but I want to take you out properly.”

You nod, unable to say no to him and you lean in to kiss him again. “I’m not running away. I want the world to know about us. It’s - I’ve been thinking, this could make our career. The TV husband and wife that become husband and wife.” You tease and Max’s eyes widen. 

“Marriage? Slow your roll baby.” He says and you giggle, rolling your eyes. “I’m joking. I want to marry you. Shit, I’ve never said that to anyone. I want you baby. I’m in this for the long haul.” He promises and you nod, leaning in to kiss him. 

“Mrs Max Phillips has a ring to it.” You murmur and he chuckles, “who says I wouldn’t take your last name? I’m a modern man.” He winks at you and you snort, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. You don’t know why you’ve been running from your feelings and now that you are here with Max, you’ll never run again. He’s now your home.

****

“It’s that time of year again.” Max grins into the camera as the red light reappears. “Valentine’s Day. The day where men either panic as they figure out to impress their partners or prepare to take the next step.” He clears his throat as he looks over at you. His girlfriend of a year, even though the public was still guessing at how serious the relationship was. There had been plenty of photos of dinners out and cozily walking around town together. While you weren’t discreet, you both decided to be mum about the status of your relationship. Especially after a closed door meeting with the producers. Everyone at the station knew, and that was all that mattered. “Tell me, Valentine’s Day proposal, tacky or romantic?” He asks you. “I personally think romantic if done right, but what do you think?”

You hum, not picking up his reasoning for the question when it's on the teleprompter. "I think...if it's done right, it's romantic. If it's a 'shut up ring' then it's tacky." You explain, turning back to the prompter. "So today, we have a big surprise. Someone is going to be getting engaged on the show." You grin, still not suspicious as the producers told you about a guy who was going to surprise his girlfriend. "Look at Max." You read the teleprompter and frown, turning to see Max out of his chair. "What are you doing?"

“Baby, honey, sweet cheeks, I don’t think there’s anything tacky about the way that I feel about you.” Max tells you as he takes your hand and kneels down in front of you. “I couldn’t think of any place more romantic than the place I met you, the place I fell in love with your laugh, your heart, your brain and everything that makes up my partner at work.” He smiles at the shocked look on your face. “I wanted to propose today, since one year ago, we finally confessed how we felt and it’s been a magical year. So now I just have one little question.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring box. “Will you be my partner in life? Marry me, darling, be my wife please?”

Your eyes widen and you glance around at the crew who are grinning at you and Max. You inhale shakily, tears stinging in your eyes as the man you love kneels in front of you. "Baby. I - yes. A million times, yes!" You squeal and shift to kneel down in front of him, cupping his cheeks to kiss him without even caring about the ring, you're more excited to marry the man you love.

Grinning against your lips, Max knows that you’ve just made history, a morning show host proposing to his co-host on live tv. It will be the talk of the town. He doesn’t care about that or what the executives think. All he cares about is that Valentine’s Day is the day you became an official couple, the day you agreed to marry him, and next year - you’ll get married on Valentine’s Day. He will make sure that every Valentine’s Day you spend with him will be one to remember.

[slvtiny]

Warm Blanket

This whole live had my mind going haywire cuz I keep going back to these live snippets, Woo gives a different kind of comfort tbh.

I've had this thought, and it makes me kick my feet in the air....

.................................................

PAIRING: IDOL WOO X PRODUCER Y/N <afab reader>

FT: ATINY, SEONGHWA, HONGJOONG(mentioned), MINGI(mentioned)

WARNING ⚠️: periods(menstruation), crying, anxiety, kinda cringe at some places,

(though it's just a Fluffy little brainrot lmk if I missed any)

Enter to be tagged: 💌

What if you're his gf but also a producer at kq. You've never denied being in a relationship, but you've never disclosed it either. You are working on his solo album, but they have a tour, so you tag along to travel, be together, and write your love song. As always, Ms. PERIOD knocs your door at the most busy segment of your month, but you just need hugs and cuddles.

You've been up all day producing and scribbling lyrics for him and you just needed his review on the lyrics to get started on making the demo

You are a producer at kq. You usually work with Joongie and Mingles. But lately, you've been working on Woo's solo album

Your pms and cramps have made it difficult for you to work throughout the day. In fact, you had been crying trying to finish up the work.

But you had finally overcome the tears and finished your work as you proudly strudel towards Woo's hotel room across the hallway.

The whole floor and the one were both booked for KQ staff. Knowing that you'd be in your boyfriend's room, you and joong had decided to convert one of the rooms into a makeshift studio so you could continue working on the album.

Fiddling with the key card, you hummed to the tune of the song you'd written for him. Not knowing he was on live, you give the door to your boyfriend's room a slight knock before letting yourself in with the keycard he'd given you.

With the chime of the lock system, the door opened, and you walked in, letting the door close behind you with a similar chime as it autolocked. You remove out shoes as you slip into your slipers and walk towards the table where Woo was.

The light pitter-patter of your feet, your soft sniffles(your nose is slightly stuffy due to the crying sesh), the scent of you had already caught Woo's attention. As he turns his head to you, extending his arms open for you, forgetting the fact that he hadn't told his fans about you.

You extend the iPad you'd written the lyrics in along with your little recorder you used to record demo samples, as you waddle your way to him. As you reach closer you realize that he's on live and you freeze slightly and then pull yourself together and try to be profesional.

"Oh I didn't know you were doing a live, I'll return later." You said backing up slightly.

Woo looked at the camera and smiled slightly, turning back to you he says,

"No need they wanted me to spoil something anyway."

He winks, motioning you to give him the iPad and recorder. You do as he demands and stand beside the table to avoid being in the camera's view.

"Atinyyy, say hi to J PD, she is working really hard on something I wanted to do for you, even when we are on tour across the world!!"

You giggle and blush. He teases you by calling you Jung PD/ J PD, ever since you'd had a drunken blabbing about how you wanted to marry him someday.

"Hi Atiny, I hope you like the surprise when it's out" you say extending your palm in front of the camera to wave. While Woo rummages through the drawers to find his wired earphones.

"Brief?" Woo looks at you, his tone soft and polite. "Yes, I wrote some lyrics for track1159am and altered it slightly. I also made a new sheet for the pice I told you about before. I'm kind of stuck between the tone, ig if you give it a listen and tell me which you think fits more I can go get the demo done."

You take a deep breath after your little brief, Woo nods pulling a chair across from him and taps on its seat telling you to sit.

He reads a few comments while telling his fans about the process of making music and what he's about to do.

'''J PD's voice is so cute😍, can we talk to her??''' ;

'''Thank you J PD🫶''' ;

'''Oppa, can we talk to J PD please🫣'''..

Woo read out loud, making you blush harder everytime he said "J PD "

"Woah!! They love you already!!" He said chuckling, "Do you want to talk to Atiny??"

"Okay.." You utter softly

"Atiny be polite okay, talk to J PD while I finish my work okay", he turns to you handing you his phone which he was using to read the comments "J PD have fun talking to my Atiny hmm?"

"Yes sure" you giggled at Atiny's reactions in the comments

Time passes as he continues to scribble on notes and repeating your voice memos, while you talk to Atiny traveling from topic to topic. You had explained them theories of music and how they are used in the studio, some questions they had, some ideas they gave that you'd note down on Woo's phone for later. Woo could tell you had made friends with his Atiny and it made him happy, that you were comfortable with them and vice-versa.

You were talking about songs, recommending some and getting agreements from Atiny. When some Atinys mentioned certain songs that had helped them when they felt down during their period weeks and you started talking on that and bonding with them as you shared some tricks your grandmother had taught you.

You get startled when Woo jolts in his seat, turning to you with concern in his eyes, completely forgotten the camera and the live and the fans of his you had been talking to for the past 20 minutes.

"You cried??" Tone soft and worried, iPad flung to the table, recorder still playing, sitting in his lap as he drags his chair close to yours. You're ears red with embarrassment as you recall your crying session from before, you look down, Woo's phone long forgotten, kept on the table.

You nod slightly, fiddling with your rings.

Woo pulls your chair closer, unknowingly bringing you into the frame though just a little.

"Baby are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?" His hand on your cheek, his thumb gliding as though wiping your tears. The sudden shift of environment triggers you as your mood swings hit you with another wave of emotions.

"Mood swings" you utter under your breath as a sob escapes with it followed by a stabbing cramp making you wince and hold your stomach, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me you were on your period, baby we could postpone all work. You need rest. Want me to bring you something??"

"It's okay I'll just finish that and the.." You stop talking trying not to cry due to the pain. It felt like your cramps were waiting to recharge and strike you hard.

"No You're not working anymore, you're going to lay down and have some soup and then nap."

Woo says sternly but still softly so as to not alarm you in anyway.

Woo gives you warm water and starts winding up the little work set up. He reaches for the iPad and his phone when he realises the live was on.

He slightly panics and reads the comments anyway. Atinys waerw confused in the comments, trying to figure out what was going on and if you were his girlfriend or not. As Atinys realise that he's back and he's reading their comments they stop texting each other and prompt everyone to give him time to say something, reading this he takes a deep breath before letting it all out.

"Atiny, I know you might be mad at me, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I was afraid having seen the way this news is usually received by fans in general. I will get straight to it. Yes, you're right she is my girlfriend, and I love her a lot, and I hope you understand. Though I didn't choose for this to happen, I don't regret it at all. I don't know what you think but I hope you take this badly."

''' WE ARE SO HAPPY FOR YOU WOO🤧🤧'''

'''WE SUPPORT YOU BOTH💖🤧'''

'''LOVE J PD ❤️ '''

Reading all the positive comments gives Woo relief as he thanks Atiny

"Please take care of us and love us the same Atiny" he says with a smile

''' GO TAKE CARE OF J PD❤️'''

'''TIPS FOR PERIOD CRAMPS.... LUV U J PD💗'''

''' WOO GO GET YOUR GIRL CHOCOLATE 🍫 '''

Woo reads the tips as he reads them out loud turning to you when he hears you sob harder.

"I'm so sorry, I ruined it"

"Huh??"

"I ruined your relationship with Atiny, it's my fault I ruined everything"

"No baby you didn't ruin anything"

"I did though"

"No love you haven't ruined anything, they love you, and they love us, they're happy about it see"

He shows you the comments filled with hearts and '''WE LOVE YOU J PD'''

"I'm sorry Atiny, thank you.." You say softly between sobs. Woo takes back his phone and tells Atiny that you need naps and ends the live.

He hugs you tight, while sending a text to the gc of the news and tells the Manger about it before ordering some soup and chocolates for you as directed by Atiny.

He then puts his phone down pulling apart from the hug. He runs to your luggage carrier to take the period towel. He lays it down on the bed and helps you lay down on it. He gets your hot bag you'd been carrying and warms some water in the kettle provided by the hotel, to put in it.

The door bell rings and he rushes to open it, revealing Seonghwa holding snacks, the chocolate and soup he had ordered and some balm for the pain as he had been recommended by his sister whom he'd given a quick call to make sure Woo wouldn't give you extra headache by giving you chocolate.

He walks past a stunned Woo and sets everything on the bed side table.

"Hey buddy! You okay?"

You were comfortable with Hwa he treated you like his own little sister and cared for you as if you were blood related.

"Nooo tummy hurt" you blabber like a child. He pats your head lightly and hands you the balm. "Here this should help. Get some sleep."

"Okayy, thaankuu"

He walks back to Woo by the door and pats on his shoulder. "Take care of her, we'll take care of the rest, don't worry Joong's already on it." And with that he leaves.

Woo sits beside you helping you sit up. He helps you finish your soup and gets you some warm tea after your done brushing your teeth. Which makes little sense to him since you lay under the sheets nibbling on the chocolate Hwa had brought earlier. It brings a smile to your face and that's all that matters to him.

After he's done downing his rice, he brushes his tea and reheats the water of your hotbag.

He lays beside you on his side, supporting his head with one hand and the other on your belly drawing circles with his palm on it. Your lower belly tends to get hotter when you're on your period seeming like a fever. The weight of his hand exerted a comforting pressure on you. His hand travels up your torso, as he cups your face and give you light kisses, filled with love and care and innumerable silent promises.

Your eyelids start to feel heavier, Woo reaches over you to switch off the lamp on your side of the bed, and then turns to switch off the one on his side.

You turn on your side facing him, he pulls you closer into his chest. His arm, now your pillow, his heartbeat your lullaby. You breathe in his sent, his breath fanning on your face, his hand wrapped around your head, fingers laced in your hair with light gliding pats.

You're drifting to slumber as you bumble your most sincere thought.

"I love you Woo"

He kisses your head as you both close your eyes.

"I'd give up the world for you My Love"

He says in a whisper, continuing to hum to your song until slumber consumes him.

Tagged

@bro-atz @chocoholicbabe1994 @holybibly @hongjng8 @hwashotcheeto @pirateprincessblog @pirateprincessoz @atinycafe ...

[marleyybluu]

Secret Crush

Oscar x black!fem!reader

Warnings: just fluff, Oscar being a simp, flirting

Word count: 1.7k

He felt like he was visibly shaking. He wouldn't stop bouncing his foot while he sat in the chair. Three bottles of liquor and a shot glass to his left with an empty awaiting chair in front of him. Today was the day he'd finally admit his feelings to his crush and what better way to do it than with some liquid courage, a room full of cameras and in front of thousands of viewers? 

Thanks to his little brother Cesar, he received an email from one of the producers of a YouTube channel called 'Cut' for their popular segment of Truth or Drink. He wasn't for it at first but in the words of his younger sibling it was time for him to "grow a pair." Reminding him he should've smacked him in the head for this. 

It was plain as daylight that he had a crush on her, he hated the feeling though-- the way his heart would almost burst out of his chest when he saw her, the way he would listen attentively when she spoke and how that sweet smooth voice of hers could have him hypnotized all day. He wasn't used to these feelings it almost scared him. 

"Hi. Do you mind telling us your name?" The lady standing next to the camera greeted bringing him down from his thoughts. "Wassup, my name is Spooky." He nodded not giving his government name. 

"And why are you here?" 

He lowly chuckled while shaking his head. "I am here to tell my crush that I like her." 

"Does she have any idea why she’s here today?" 

He shook his head. "She's actually a fan of these videos, but I told her we were doing truth or drink friends." Lowkey hated that he had to lie to her. "Is it okay if we bring her out now? Are you ready?" 

Spooky took a deep breath and nodded as he sat up straight, the same lady had gone to the backrooms to summon her. She came back out with her hot on her heels, Spooky had a small glimmer in his eyes as he smiled at her, she was all bright and cheery as she waved to him. "Hola papito." 

"Hola mamita." He beamed, his brown eyes following her as she sat down. She rested her hands on the table and turned over to the camera. "And who do we have here?"

"I am Y/n." 

"Heard you're a fan of these videos." 

She turned to look at Spooky knowing he was the only one who would binge-watch these with her. "Yeah, it's a bit nerve-wracking to be on the other side."

"So, how do you two know each other?" 

Y/n started to giggle. "His little brother is dating my cousin, so I met him at one of our family functions." 

Spooky's tongue poked the inside of his cheek fighting so hard not to smile as he himself recalled the first time he met her and how she dragged him inside when he claimed he was only dropping off Cesar. He was glad she did it. 

The producer allowed them to take one shot before the questions started, Spooky poured her drink for her and slid it over before pouring his own, they clinked the glasses and threw their heads back to quickly down the burning drink. Y/n's eyes squeezed shut and her head shook as she reached for the glass of juice next to her. She wasn't much of a drinker but if it was being offered she'd take it. 

The cards were laid out faced down in front of them, each person had their own stack. He offered that she go first, she picked up the first card almost nervous to do so since she knew a lot of these questions could take a turn at any time. "What is something about me that you find intriguing?" He watched as she put down the card next to the stack she just took it from. "I don't know if it's weird to say this but you change a lot. Your hair is different every time I see you and I like that, it's cool to see that you can do so much with it. You watch one video and recreate a style perfectly, I like it."

She flashed a smile. "It's not weird to say, thank you I appreciate that. I always feel like they don't turn out good." 

"Nah they turn out amazing, trust me." He said getting ready to pick a card. 

"Do you have a favourite style of hers?" 

He nodded. "I like when it's up and it's got a little puff at the top. Sometimes she'll... make it curly, sometimes she won't. I like it either way." 

 "What are my toxic traits?" He rolled his eyes placing the card down.

Y/n raised her eyebrows. "You are so hard-headed." Spooky kissed his teeth turning his head away from her, she laughed and pointed. "See! You guys have no idea how many times I tell him 'I told you so.' All because you don't want to listen." 

He looked back over to her fighting another grin but that dimple of his gave him away. He gently kicked her under the table and she returned it a bit harder. The producers could already tell the dynamic they most likely have outside of this interview, childish and playful, he was such a serious person when he was sitting in that chair but the minute she came out he was a different person. They had chemistry there was no denying that.

Y/n flipped over her card, reading it in her head first and blushing at the fact that she really had to ask this. "Would you say you're a good kisser?" She was pretty interested in knowing. 

He looked over at the camera and back at her. "I would say I am yeah." 

"Do you use tongue?" The lady in the background instigated. Spooky nervously laughed, his hand went to the back of his neck, he lightly scratched it as he nodded his head.  Y/n bit her lip and shuffled in her seat feeling a sudden heat and tingle building in the pit of her stomach. 

He reached for another question. "Rate my attractiveness on a scale of 1 to 10." That was more of a statement than a question. 

"10." 

Spooky's face fell, not in a bad way but more in a surprised way, he did not expect her to answer so quickly. Y/n shrugged providing an explanation. "Spooky, sweetie, I'm not blind. You are very attractive. I'm not the only girl who thinks so either." A subtle jab at the number of girls she sees flocking to him whenever he has a Santos party or even if he's just merely driving around town. 

She had no reason to be jealous, at least that's what she told herself, but she couldn't help but feel a little disdain towards them. "Hold on, I kind of want to know what you rate me."

Spooky reached over for a bottle and poured some liquor, Y/n's mouth hung open and her heart sank, she could feel her posture slouch in disappointment. He raised the glass to his lips before saying, "20." He winked at her before tipping his head back.

Her frown quickly disappeared. "Pendejo." 

-

They went back and forth until the pile became smaller and smaller. "If we were to have sex, what would you do to me or what would you let me do to you?" 

Spooky was full-on blushing at this point. Y/n shrugged reaching for a drink. "If you're lucky, querido, you could find out." She answered. 

She was teasing him and he was liking it. "We're actually going to have Spooky pick up another card, sorry, we didn't get that shot." The producer lied. 

He inhaled deeply and exhaled enough that it almost sunk his chest in. He picked up another card, staring at it a bit longer than the others, he cleared his throat as he put it down. "Can I just take a shot instead?" 

"Boy, just ask the question, you know you can ask me anything." Y/n reassured. He exhaled once more and just went for it. "I have a crush on you..." 

Her eyes widened slightly and her shoulders relaxed. "No you don't." 

"I do." 

Y/n squinted and reached over to the card that he had just put down wondering whether this was a joke or not. And it wasn't. The card instructed that he confess his feelings. "Oh shit..." 

That wasn't the answer he was looking for, now all of a sudden he was starting to be filled with regret, he knew doing this was stupid. Y/n noticed his demeanour change and quickly responded. "Spooky... I like you too." 

"You do?" 

She nodded eagerly. "A lot. Why do you think I pulled you into the party when we first met? I thought you were so fine, and then we started talking... and then I saw you again and we kept seeing each other outside of Monse and Cesar..." She was rambling, she was rambling nervously. He placed his hand on top of hers, a small gesture to get her to stop before she talked her head off. 

"I'm not gonna lie yo, I was nervous to do this, nervous you wouldn't like me back." 

"Oh papito, what's not to like?" She cooed. 

"So what is the plan now?" 

Spooky looked at Y/n. "Good question. I say I'll take you on our first date tomorrow. If you're cool with that." 

"I am more than cool with that." 

"Come here." Spooky held onto her hand as she stood up from her seat, she pulled down her skirt a bit a made her way over to him comfortably sitting on his lap. His free hand wrapped around her waist. 

"Well, I think we'll end it here. I just want to thank you two for coming on, and I wish you nothing but luck on this, hopefully, new journey." 

Y/n grinned. "Thank you." 

"Thanks." 

As the team took down the equipment they stayed seated together. He placed a hesitant and gentle kiss on her shoulder. "Maybe I should take you on a date now instead." 

She placed her hand on his cheek, pressing a kiss on his nose. "Let's go then." 

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

peace and love

tags (also tagging those who might be interested):

@skyesthebomb @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 17

Damn, how did this get to a part 17????

Here's the promised WIP Wednesday (on a Thursday)!

I had a lot of fun writing this part. The words just flowed so easily.

If you didn't notice, I now have the first arc posted on AO3. It covers the first three parts I've shared here along with some extras that I never did.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.9k

-----

By the time morning had rolled around, Tim had also signed them up for a 7:30 AM and a 6 PM TV interview. Hopefully they could do enough damage control to mitigate the worst of Walker’s bad PR, whatever that turned out to be.

Tim nudged everyone awake at 5 AM. Conner and Cassie got up the easiest.

“Morning, Rob,” Conner said through a yawn. “Time to prepare for our interview?”

“Yep. We’ll be going in uniform since this is an interview for the Young Justice.”

“Great,” said Cassie. “We’ll be ready.”

Tim went to Danny next. “Hey, Danny.” The boy didn’t move, so Tim shook his shoulder slightly.

“Wha…?” Danny blinked his eyes open. “Wha’s goin on?”

“Me and the others are going to our interviews. We’ll be back in a few hours, kay?”

Danny just blinked at him and Tim laughed fondly.

“I’ll leave a note.”

Tim skipped breakfast on their way out, though Bart offered him some breakfast bars.

“It’s too late to be up,” Tim yawned.

Conner laughed as he hugged Tim and wrapped him in his TTK. They rose several feet into the air. “You should not have pulled that all-nighter.”

“How else was I supposed to be awake in time?”

Tim could feel the way Conner shook his head. “Just tell me where to go. I’ll get us there.”

Tim pointed to an area in town. “It’s over that way.”

Bart grinned. “I’ll meet you three there!”

“We won’t be long,” said Cassie.

With the benefit of flying, they were at the radio station within fifteen minutes. Sometimes being friends with metas made life so much easier.

As soon as they entered, a team of people greeted them.

“You were actually serious!” exclaimed a tall, white man. “Thought for sure it was a joke when I got your email last night. I’m Steve and I’ll be your interviewer this morning.”

Tim shook his hand. “Good morning, Steve. Robin at your service, and these are Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.”

Then they had to be introduced to all the producers, sound engineers, and assistants. If it hadn’t been for his parents’ gala training, Tim was certain he would’ve forgotten all the names instantly.

The employees knew how to do their jobs, however, and despite everyone wanting to meet the heroes, in less than twenty minutes, they were set up in the recording studio.

“So,” said Steve. “I just want to make sure I get this right. You, Robin, have been friends with Phantom for a while now and wanted to tell our listeners the truth about him. That he’s actually a hero and not a menace.”

“That’s right, Steve. I knew him before… Well, he’s a ghost. You know what before implies. He was there for me when I first became Robin. Now I want to be there for him when he’s dealing with similar struggles.”

“That’s not what any of the experts believe.”

Conner snorted. “The so-called experts in this town want to completely destroy any and all ghosts. Don’t think they’re unbiased.”

Bart nodded. “Yeah. We may not have known Phantom as long as Robin, here. But he’s a good guy. Helped us out when we got stranded here.”

“Stranded, eh? Mind if I ask you more about that on air?”

Tim laughed. “You can ask whatever you like. But I can’t guarantee we’ll answer everything. Secret missions and all that, you understand.”

Steve sighed theatrically. “It was worth a shot. Now, we’ll be going live in about five minutes and we’ll have three segments of eight minutes separated by two minute ad breaks. For a total of thirty minutes in the studio. Anything in particular you want me to ask?”

Tim pulled a sheet of paper out of his utility belt. “I wrote some down, if you don’t mind. They should be engaging and broad enough to please your audience and personal curiosity.”

“I won’t ask only from this list, you understand,” said Steve as he took it.

“Of course not. The first three are ones I do request that you ask, however. Beyond those, they’re just suggestions.”

Steve skimmed the list and nodded. “I can work with this.”

Beyond the window, the sound technician made a signal.

“All right, everyone. That’s the one minute mark. Let me introduce you before you say anything, capiche?”

Tim gave a thumbs up and the others added their assent.

The “on air” light turned on and Steve spoke in a voice much more performative than the one he’d been using. “Good Morning, Amity Park! This is Steve Boyce here to help you bring in the day. How are you early birds doing? Have I got a treat for you today! So last night I got absolutely no sleep because at nine thirty, shortly after our newly implemented curfew, I got a surprise email. From no other than the heroes who helped us out the other night when we were attacked! That’s right! The one and only Robin from Gotham emailed my and asked to come on my small, local show. So he and the Teen Titans are here with me. Let’s give them a warm Amity welcome, what do you say?”

Cassie laughed. “Thanks for that introduction, Steve. I’m Wonder Girl and I’d like to clarify one point. The former Teen Titans have kept the name Titans even if they’re no longer Teens. So we’ve decided to go by a new name.”

Bart nodded. “Yep. We’re the Young Justice now.”

Steve laughed. “Looks like I’ve already put my foot in it. Let me correct myself, let’s give the Young Justice a warm Amity welcome.”

Tim put on the happy gala voice his parents had drilled into him. “Not at all! It’s a new change and we’ve never really operated out here before. Even back home in San Francisco or Gotham we get called the Teen Titans more often than not. We’re just on a crusade to get the name change to stick.”

“Well I’m sure all of my listeners will be sure to get it right going forward. Now, let’s get down to business. We’re all thrilled that you were around to help us out the other night, but what brought you to Amity to begin with? Mayor Montez has publicly stated he never even had a chance to reach out for help before you were on the scene.”

“That was all Robin’s doing,” said Conner. “He’s friends with Phantom, you know.”

“Yep,” agreed Tim. “We were in the area when our transport broke down. Impulse figured out where we were and I knew of Amity due to my friendship with Phantom. Since we weren’t on a time limit, we decided to pop into town for a visit. Imagine our surprise when our very first evening here, we experienced a ghost invasion!”

Cassie laughed. “Oh, come on, Rob. With our lives, it really wasn’t that surprising.”

“Yeah,” said Bart. “We’ve totally had weirder things happen to us.”

Steve leaned forward and pitched his tone lower as if conspiring with them. “Well, I’ll definitely be asking for some of the details on what those might’ve been later. But first, I have to ask. Robin, how did you meet Phantom? He’s that ghost in the black-and-white jumpsuit, right? As far as I know, he’s only ever been seen in Amity. And you’ve certainly never been here before.”

Tim took a breath, this was the moment. “Yep, that’s him. And, well, it may be strange, but I knew him before he was ever Phantom.”

“Before he was Phantom? Do you mean…” Steve let his voice trail off.

Tim let out a low sigh and closed his eyes. He really had to sell this. “Yeah.” He made sure his voice was rough. “Yeah. I knew him before he died. He was one of my best friends growing up and we’ve known each other for years.”

Conner put a hand on his shoulder. “Rob…”

When even Steve needed a second to figure out how to reply, Tim figured he did a good enough job. “So you know him when he was alive,” Steve said. “Who was he? Where did he live?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” said Tim. “He was young when he died and his family don’t need people harassing them. They’ve been through a lot. And I know Phantom’s reputation isn’t the best.”

Steve let out another put-upon sigh. “And there you go being reasonable when all I want is the hot gossip. Fine, no questions about who Phantom was. I’m sure you were thrilled when you found out he came back as a ghost, though.”

Tim laughed and was glad Steve was able to change the mood of the interview so quickly without him doing anything. “Oh absolutely. I near about had a heart attack when he called me up out of the blue to say he was a ghost now! This was my first opportunity to visit him since, you know.”

Conner nudged him. “So he brought us along for the ride.”

Steve hummed. “So for the rest of you, this is your first time meeting Phantom?”

“Yep,” said Bart. “I like him. He’s cool.”

“So, Impulse, you think he’s trying to help us. Because it seems like whenever he shows up, things get broken and we have to spend days or weeks and tens of thousands on repairs.”

“Robin knows more about it than I do,” said Bart, “but I guess what let Phantom cross back over to Earth is allowing other ghosts to cross back over. Phantom just wants to spend more time with his living family and friends. The others ghosts…”

“They want more than that,” finished Tim. “Phantom’s explained it to me a bit. They all have something driving them that can only be fulfilled on Earth. And they don’t care what they have to do to satisfy that drive. So Phantom steps in to try and prevent them from causing too much damage or hurting anyone. Then he forces them back to the dimension they come from.”

“In fact,” added Cassie. “We spent all night talking with Phantom and we got his side of the story on several of his fights since he first came to Amity. We’ve written it all up and submitted them to the local paper, so look in the OpEds over the next few days if you want to know the truth.”

“Oh, well now you’ve definitely got me intrigued! I think I will. Anything you'd be willing to share with us now?”

“Do you remember how a month or two ago, a giant robot was seen in Amity?” asked Tim.

“Not something I’m likely to forget!”

Tim laughed. “I’m sure! Well, what you don’t know is that he crossed over to Earth from the Ghost Zone about three or four days before you ever saw him. Phantom kept him from gaining a physical body for days before Technus was able to get past him.”

“Really? So you’re saying that without Phantom, we would’ve been dealing with that robot for a lot longer?”

“Yep.”

Steve asked several more questions about Phantom. Some serious: How does he plan to decrease property damage going forward? We’re coaching him on how to move a fight and deescalate conflict. And some light hearted: So I heard he’s a dog person? Oh, absolutely. A ghost dog adopted him a few weeks ago.

Then the questions turned more personal as he moved on from Phantom and asked about their lives and exploits. And before they knew it, the interview was over.

“Thanks for reaching out,” Steve said as soon as they left the recording studio. “You are by far the biggest guests I’ve ever had on.”

“Thanks for agreeing to have us on so last minute,” said Tim.

“How could I possibly say no?”

-----

Next

Hope you enjoyed the interview! I probably won't go into detail for the TV one since it'd just be rehashing the same information.

I no longer do tag lists, but I do have a Subscription Post if you want to be notified of updates.

[wooawrites]

love or letter: woozi version

pairing: l. jihoon x fem! reader

summar: reader accidentally sends head producer jihoon into unwanted popularity, creating tension within their office.

word count: 12k+

genre: semi-enemies to lovers, office romance, fluff

playlist

love or letter series

“Hello and welcome back to… Boo!”

“...Seok!”

“...Soon!”

“Radio Show!”

Chorus of laughter could be heard from around the recording room as the three hosts finished the final portion of the introduction together. Papers could also be heard being shuffled as the hosts eased themselves out of their advertisement break and into their next segment.

“Thank you very much for the love and support you sent us on our official Instagram page during our short university break. I hope all of you enjoyed my takeover for that day—”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone enjoyed the tiger room tour you gave to our poor listeners, Hoshi.” DK interrupted. A thump could be heard, along with DK yelping in pain for a split second. “Just so listeners know, Kwon Hoshi just hit me, his coworker/host.”

Hoshi could be heard yelling something at him in rushed sentences, though it sounded as if he were underwater from the quality of the mics. They only seemed to stop themselves when a tapping from glass could be heard. Both sounded to be settled back into their seats as they continued with their show.

“Right, onto everyone’s favorite segment: Love or Letter!” Hoshi said excitedly, though there seemed to be a lack for it’s usual excitement in the studio as weak claps could be heard instead. Hoshi seemed to have picked this up as he asked, “Huh? Is something wrong?”

“I know that most of you are here for our most recent Love or Letter, but this one is a little strange. It’s only about half a page long but it’s quite… A tell-all, that’s for sure.” Seungkwan commented, letting out an awkward cough as he shook at the letter in front of him. Scraping from chairs could be heard, which was followed up by laughter from the two other hosts. “Kwon Hoshi, you read it since this is your undoing.”

Laughter had yet to cease, the sound of what’s mixed between a snort and crying could only be heard from the studio. Seungkwan did not hesitate to yell out his fellow host’s name once more, only earning a winded “Okay, okay!” from the other man.

Hoshi cleared his throat, remnants of a laugh ready to slip from his lips as he spoke. “Okay… Dear BooSeokSoon, usually this kind of letter comes from cliche shows and I dearly hope this letter becomes buried amongst the many letters your Love or Letter Team receives on a daily basis, but this is not much of advice and more of a confession…"

Tapping from the glass could be heard once more, a little more panicked than last time. Hoshi let out a hum, as if ignoring whoever was tapping on the other side, continuing. "...to your producer, Jihoon. The moment I saw his picture on Hoshi's Instagram post, I couldn't help but fall for him. I understand if he won't accept my affections, but if he ever sees or hears this letter, please know that Kim Gi—"

"AHHH!" Someone interrupts. Seungkwan. "We read the letters, not expose their names and addresses."

"How could he? She put her name and number down for our PD Jihoon to take." DK says, laughing. The knocking turned more erratic, silencing anything else anyone had to say. DK coughed. “Well… Dear writer, I’m sorry to say this will be a Letter. Our PD Jihoon is pretty anti—”

“Caught up with work!” Hoshi interrupted. “Anyways, sorry to cut the segment so short, we’ve hit a bit of a little issue here at the radio station. Tune in tomorrow night for our other special segment, Paranormals With Peachy, and to hear our daily campus news! Thank you again for listening to BooSeokSoon Radio and have a good night everyone!”

A chorus of goodbye’s from the other hosts could be heard. A final awkward sigh could be heard before the radio cuts off—

[Name] wasn’t sure if she wanted to peel away from the glass just yet. She could feel him staring at the back of her head, which would’ve frightened her if she wasn’t so exhausted. Her palm stung from how hard she was hitting the glass to make the hosts stop talking.

How am I supposed to take tomorrow’s exam if my palm’s going to bruise up? She asked herself, eyes never leaving Seokmin, who offered her a passive smile as he, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan settled their headsets on their respective mic stands. They were deliberately slow this time, much to [Name]’s chagrin.

“You let one of those letters slip through.” His voice held no such emotion, like it usually does, but the emphasis could be heard even if it was verbal.

[Name] closed her eyes, mentally bringing her walls up as she turned around to look at Jihoon. “I swear I made sure to separate the piles properly.”

“Not properly enough.” Jihoon chastised. The hosts were sure to be quiet to shut the door as quietly as possible, though it didn’t stop Jihoon from snapping his head at them, eyes narrowing at the three men. “And why did you three just keep reading?”

[Name] was glad everyone else from their respective teams were kind enough to clear away from the room before the radio show ended. At least this way they wouldn’t have to hear four of the five members that drove the show to be chewed out.

“Because it was entertaining.” Soonyoung answered honestly, sending a teasing smile toward Jihoon, who only rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Jihoon, it was a little funny. Those confession letters honestly just come from pure intentions—”

“And somehow makes a fool out of me—” Jihoon snapped.

“—and cut [Name] some slack. She spent the whole week separating your confession letters from the actual confession letters, printed out apology notes to any of the addressed senders, and was the one to narrow down the possible stories for us to use. And that was on top of everything else she’s usually supposed to do.” Soonyoung explained, giving the younger woman an easy smile.

Seungkwan nodded. “I’m sure someone just mixed up the papers when it was brought over to us. [Name] would’ve spotted it if she was the one to physically take it over to us herself.”

Jihoon was only seething in silence, [Name] fighting off the urge to tear at her hair in frustration. Her eyes narrowed in on her hand, finding the bruise forming on her wrist more interesting than the conversation. Though if she were to be honest, any conversation could be better than this one.

Her mind replayed every single moment that happened up until she handed off the stacks to her assistants. Had she told the wrong person to bring it to Seokmin? Why hadn’t they double checked like she asked them to? Either way, she knew it was her fault some way or another and she wasn’t sure how long she’s going to keep her job after this.

“I’m sorry.” [Name] said finally, bowing deeply to Jihoon and the three other hosts. “I swear I separated them—”

“Yeah, I know.” Jihoon started, only stopping when [Name] sent him a look that only seemed befitting to his own special glare.

“At least let me finish?” [Name] suggested, voice quipped as if she were a school teacher talking to a child. “I should have double—no, triple checked those stacks of letters. If I had done that in the first place, the segment wouldn’t have to be cut short and we wouldn’t be here.”

Seokmin shook his head. “No it’s okay. I should’ve checked on the papers before the show started too instead of handing it over to the other two. Besides, this is just your first mistake. You haven’t made any since you were moved up from production assistant to head producer for the Love or Letter team.”

[Name] nodded, appreciating the hosts' understanding, though she wasn’t sure if Jihoon would accept her apology. She bowed again to Jihoon, muttering another quiet apology to the man.

“Just… Don’t do it again. And make sure to keep your team in check and I want you to be the one to physically bring it over to Seokmin so you can triple check you have the right story next time. Got it?” Jihoon asked. At [Name]’s nod, he turned for the door, stopping as he turned to take a good look at [Name]. “And next time, don’t stay up so late trying to separate those letters. You’ve got five other people on your team to help you with those.”

With those words, Jihoon exited, Soonyoung following shortly after. [Name] sat on the leather couch behind her, digging her head into her hands as she let out a tired sigh. The couch dipped, Seokmin’s hand patting her back. “Don’t sweat it. Everyone makes mistakes all the time.”

Sungkwan hummed in agreement. “And it’s not as if Jihoon’s picture perfect either. He made plenty of mistakes before he became the radio show’s producer.”

“That’s the thing: before he was a producer. I’m a producer now and I made a mistake even rookies were able to avoid.” [Name] grumbled, rubbing at her eyes.

Sungkwan and Seokmin let out noises of discontent at their friend. “Don’t be so hard on yourself; the school year’s just begun and you’re still adjusting. Jihoon’s pretty forgiving after he’s finished with his chastising; he’s too busy to stay too mad.”

[Name] rolled her eyes at the last notion. “Sure, sure. As if he hasn’t had it out for me the minute I stepped foot into the building to meet up with him this summer.”

She hadn’t been wrong; when she had just been a production assistant to Yeri a year prior, Lee Jihoon had been nice to her—or polite, at least. Always offered small bows of acknowledgement whenever she was trailing behind Yeri or was by herself in the small office space provided to the Love or Letter team.

Once Yeri had graduated, Mr. Yang had been the one to announce [Name]’s step up into the open position her mentor left behind, suddenly making Jihoon become colder for some reason toward her. 

The meet up she had with him and Mr. Yang had gone smoothly on the surface, but she could still feel the coldness behind Jihoon’s tone when narrowing down expectations needed once she became a producer. 

Regardless, she kept her temper from rising and did her best to keep her composure throughout the meeting, though that didn’t stop her from dropping certain comments at him afterward. Especially when she felt as if she wasn’t wrong or trying to amend her wrongdoings.

Maybe she was just overthinking, but she was sure Lee Jihoon had it out for her and she was more than ready to hold her ground. Except now, though. That blunder was definitely her fault.

“Don’t be like that.” Seokmin responded, nudging her shoulder. “You probably just need to get some more sleep; there’s been a lot of confession letters sent to Jihoon after Soonyoung posted a picture of him last year and it accumulated during the summer. He seemed to understand in the end anyways.”

“Right… Right…”

“You have been getting enough rest, right?” Seungkwan asked, though all three of them knew the answer already. “How have you been?”

[Name] sighed. “Fine, I guess.” Silence had never felt louder as she could feel her best friends eyeing her suspiciously. “I’m just… Here, okay? It’s better than the last time you guys asked me if it makes you feel better.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Seungkwan asked, standing up. “We can go get food and head back to my apartment.”

“No, I just wanna get my stuff and head home.” [Name] responded honestly, making sure to offer Seungkwan a kind smile. “Thank you for being concerned for me, though. I really mean that.”

Sungkwan nodded. “Any time.”

“We’re always here, you know.” Seokmin said, offering her a side hug before they stood up.

They all walked out together, separating when [Name] walked over to her office and the other two moving toward their own. “Don’t stay up all night!” Sungkwan said.

“I won’t!” [Name] responded, well aware she was most likely going to, in fact, stay up all night. Her bag had already been packed and her coat folded on top of her chair. With a quick swing at both items, [Name] walked out of her office, fishing for her headphones as she walked out.

Two familiar voices and her name could be heard at the other end of the hall, however, making [Name] stop under the assumption her name was being called. [Name] was ready to call back and ask what was needed before she registered what was being said.

“...some slack, already, man. Do you not see how exhausted the poor girl is?” Soonyoung asked. “And you can tell she’s definitely going to make up for it. I swear she would have broken the glass with how hard she was tapping the glass earlier. She’s really trying her best.”

Jihoon sighed. “Her best isn’t enough. I don’t understand why Yeri and Mr. Yang wanted her become a producer with only a year under her belt. She’s too young to work with that kind of role and it’s obvious.”

“Why are you so hard on her anyways? The Lover or Letter team liked her before and after she became a producer.”

“I’m not being hard on her; I just don’t like something I spent four years building up with you come crumbling down by some second year.”

[Name] held her breath. Did he really think she was that incapable? Enough to tear down a four year radio station? She was almost ready to jump out of her hiding spot, ready to tell Jihoon off and ask him if he thought of Seungkwan and Seokmin, who were also second years with higher positions at the radio station, that way as well.

She only halted when she heard Jihoon yelp. “Ow! You dick!”

“You’re the one being a dick.” Soonyoung admonished. “Like I said, cut her some slack. She’s definitely trying so give her a chance. It’s only the beginning of the school year, too, so let everyone adjust. Besides… I think something’s going on with her.”

Jihoon huffed. “Why?”

“I don't know. She just seems like she’s keeping herself busy from something and she wasn’t like this last year. Of course, you wouldn’t know because you never spoke to her.”

“Hey—”

“That being said, be nice to her. She really did work her ass off this week; I swear she practically lives here if she’s not in class…”

Their voices faded out and [Name] could only wonder to herself how much had she changed and how obvious was it to the point that even an acquaintance like Soonyoung noticed it. Her brain was too muddled to think of anything, though, exhaustion clinging to her tighter.

She put on her headphones, immediately allowing the sound of instrumental music to flood her senses. She walked with the intention of slumber, though her mind continued to replay the continued conversation in her head, fighting off the sting whenever she remembered Jihoon’s words.

Naturally, news made its way around campus about last week’s fiasco on Love or Letter. Everywhere [Name] went, she could hear someone talking or spreading word of what happened in Love or Letter. And she never felt more embarrassment in her life.

When she found herself at the office of BSS Radio, she was quick to speed off to the Love or Letter office. [Name] evaded any probing questions the other segment teams had for her. 

She wasn’t sure she was ready to explain her mistake and be the focus of ridicule just yet, though it seemed she had been the only one to view it that way. The segment’s events spread around like wildfire—interesting everyone and essentially inviting more people to listen to the radio station, Love or Letter in particular.

[Name] had expected some kind of termination request from Jihoon, especially after what she had heard from him from that night, but she hadn’t heard from him at all since the incident. She had wondered for the duration of the week as to why, though a quick call from the Love or Letter production manager, Colette, telling her to come to the station nearly sent her into a panic.

Like usual, [Name] speed walked to her office, more curious as to what exactly Colette needed from her if she was needed so desperately at the station. 

Maybe I’m getting fired and Colette was promoted…? [Name] had initially thought as she opened the door.

“[Name] wait—!” A voice called out, cutting off when [Name] let out a gasp as a pile of letters fell at her feet. Evelyn, one of the new production assistants, had made her presence known as she leaned over the remaining pile in front of the door to pick up the fallen letters. “Sorry, I should’ve moved them.”

[Name] leaned down to help her. From behind the girl sat Colette, who was opening letters and sorting them into bins. Her eyes only furrowed in confusion when their eyes locked, silently asking her what was happening. 

“Ever since word went out on what happened, more people have sent in letters.” Colette explained, waving a piece of paper around. “Those piles on your feet are unopened ones. Come in and help us sort it out.”

[Name] nodded, speechless at the information as she stepped over. From another side of the room stood the Love or Letter writers, Amelia, Eunwoo, and Jian. They offered a wordless nod as they filtered letters into more bins. “How many people sent letters?” She asked, a little afraid of what the number was.

“Almost three hundred—that’s twice as much as what we usually get on a usual basis.” Amelia informed, an excited smile on her face. “Almost all of them are actual letters instead of the ones we’ve been getting. Of course some of them are kind of useless, though—majority love confessions to Jihoon and others just writing crude things to see if they can get it on air—”

“Which we won’t.”Colette said. “Because all six of us are gonna sort this out together instead of leaving [Name] in the dust with this pile. And we won’t be giving the wrong files without checking over with everyone, will we?”

Everyone nodded in agreement and [Name] made use of their cooperation as she sat down on her desk and started working on sorting papers out with them.

“You should’ve seen the look on Jihoon’s face.” Evelyn said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him express anything past irritation until he came to the letter box today; he had to call every single one of us to help with moving these letters to this room. He looked like he was stuck in a daze!”

“Why did he call all of you and not me?” [Name] inquired, only earning a shrug from the younger girl. She shot Colette a look in confusion. “Does he not trust me anymore or something?”

Colette shook her head, eyeing her oddly. “Quite the opposite. He asked me where you were and I said you’re probably still asleep since you’re done with class. Told me to only call you unless it’s necessary.” She motioned for the piles of letters. “It’s kind of necessary right now so sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t.” [Name] reassured, opening the letter in her hands, sorting through the papers as if it were second nature once she found herself moving.

Almost an hour had passed through their sorting and [Name] only listened to her team’s conversation, only passing in conversations with Colette every now and then. A knock on the door brought her back to reality. Leaning her head over the pile of letters in front of her, she spotted  Jihoon hovering at the doorway, red envelope in hand.

His eyes scanned the room, mouth ajar as he checked the space around them. "Uwah…" Was all he could manage out. "This is a lot."

"Yeah it is." [Name] agreed, watching as he tried to carefully step over the pile of envelopes at the doorway in amusement. He shuffled his way over to [Name], staring at her curiously.

"I thought you were supposed to be asleep."

"Couldn't." [Name] answered simply, seamlessly opening another envelope as she quickly filtered through it to decide on which pile to place it. Jihoon frowned at her words.

"Why?"

[Name] shot him a strange look. "I just couldn't. Why are you so concerned anyways?"

She bit back her tongue when she realized how sharp her tone was, though she had no means of apologizing. If he was more than willing to express his displeasure with her whenever he felt like it, she most definitely can do the same thing.

Her eyes were trained on his, noticing the slight twitch when she sent out her biting words toward him. She waited for him to respond to her in some sort of tone similar to her’s, half expecting him to mention that her job is still currently being evaluated for a clause of termination.

Instead, Jihoon only sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before moving his hand up to push back some of his hair. “Nothing. Here’s information for next week’s radio show.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” [Name] said half heartedly. She stood up, accepting the red envelope and setting it on her table. She returned her attention back to the letters right afterwards, though she could still see Jihoon hovering around longer than expected. “...do you need anything else, Jihoon?”

“Huh?” Jihoon asked, clearly in a bit of a daze. As much as he attempted to remain as stoic as possible, he was horrible at hiding his embarrassment. “Oh—uhm, no. Good luck with all of this. And, uh, don’t push yourself too hard this time. Wouldn’t want something like last week to happen.”

[Name] felt irritation bubble up in her chest, though she pushed it aside as she watched Jihoon awkwardly turn and walk out of her office. She waited for the door to shut before turning to make eye contact with Colette, who looked just as confused as she was.

Since when did Jihoon become so concerned? Or, even more shocking, when did Jihoon ever hold a conversation with her for more than five minutes when it’s not a staff meeting?

If there was anything [Name] hated more than anything, it was phone calls. She wasn’t sure why she was so irked by them; maybe it was because she was so used to speaking to people in person? Or it could be the fact she wasn’t able to gauge what people were actually able to feel if she can’t see their face.

Whatever reason it may be, [Name] hated them to the point she would avoid them if they weren’t work related. Though, recently she’s been needing to answer personal ones more frequently, much to her chagrin.

“Are you coming home this weekend? It’s your dad’s—”

“I’m well aware of what this weekend is, Mom.” [Name] interrupted, letting out an irritated groan when he hip knocked onto a stack of paperwork to the ground.

It was late into the afternoon and [Name] was already behind on whatever needed to be finished before she left today. She cursed herself for answering the phone and having to prepare herself for an argument with her mother.

“Well then are you coming? You hardly leave campus since you went back to school. Honestly it’s kind of selfish of you to leave like that.”

[Name] snorted out a laugh, temper rising at her mother’s backhanded comments. “So, are you trying to get me to come visit or just helping me find reasons to not come home?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just… You haven’t been home to help out like you promised.”

Seriously…? “Last time I checked, I was helping pay for the twins’ uniforms and cram school funds.” [Name] said, voice tense. “And I’m paying for their fees for their daily tutoring every week.”

A growing headache was blooming on the side of her head and [Name] was more than ready to hang up any minute to tend to it. She barely processed the swing of her office door, which revealed Jihoon walking in with courteous silence.

He rocked on the balls of his heels as he pointed at his watch, indicating the time for her to turn in one of her written proposals for next week’s segment. [Name] nodded, standing up with one hand on her phone as she rifled through the pile of papers she had all but forgotten on the floor.

“I mean, can you just be more present with us?”

“Honestly, with the way you talk to me, no.” [Name] said, anger almost bubbling over as she cast a glance at the still waiting Jihoon. Once she found the right papers, she double checked for a moment. “Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you later, bye.”

She hung up before she could hear whatever else her mother had to say stepping over the piles of papers to make her way over to Jihoon, who eyed her strangely.

“Everything alright..?” He asked.

[Name] only sighed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Okay.” Jihoon replied, shrugging. For some reason, the simple response brought her shoulders to relax slightly, glad someone wasn’t going to press her for answers at the moment. “Anything you want changed for next week’s segment?”

“Not much. Evelyn mentioned something about Love or Letter needing a catchy tune now that the segment’s been spiking in popularity, though.” [Name] said, watching as Jihoon’s face morphed into slight disdain. She fought off a laugh, reminding herself to not question his obvious dislike if he wasn’t going to question her phone call.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Was all Jihoon said instead. “Though I would need someone from your team to work with so I can see what you all want.”

[Name] hummed, thinking back on who on her staff was available the following month. “Hmm… Colette is out of town for her internship and Evelyn is visiting her grandma for the next two weeks. And the writers are working on an upcoming event already but I think I can pull one of them out to help you.”

“What about you?”

“Huh?” [Name] asked, eyes that were once downcasted on her phone shooting back up to stare at Jihoon’s face.

He motioned to her. “What about you? Maybe you can just help me.”

“I’ve got a family obligation this weekend.” [Name] said, motioning to her phone as if to remind him about the conversation earlier.

Jihoon shrugged. “Just tell me when you come back and we can work on it together. It’s not as if you don’t practically live here anyways.”

“I don’t practically live here…”

“You have pajama pants to change into when it gets too late.”

[Name] shot him an odd look, not sure if she should question how he knew about her Hello Kitty printed pants that she thought she had hidden away in one of her desk drawers.

“Fine, fine. I don’t get why you’re so adamant that it has to be me, though.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “You’re the only producer for this team. Producers are supposed to work with each other, right?”

"Right… I just wasn't sure if—" [Name] bit her lip back, not wanting him to find out she overheard his conversation with Soonyoung. "I'll let you know once I get back on campus and we can work on it that day."

"Working the day you get back?" Jihoon questioned, earning a lackluster nod from [Name]. “Don’t you ever get sick of this place?”

“Not really; I kinda like my job.” [Name] said, though the tone in her voice was unconvincing.

It was true; [Name] did like her job, despite all the trouble she’s recently had to undo. Something about the process of turning an idea into reality fascinated her and being a producer provided that type of environment for her. 

[Name] had lost count of how many times she found herself pooled into her work to the point she’d have to get dragged out of the office by Seungkwan or Seokmin.

Right now, [Name] was more than tempted to see if she can go push her limits since she ended her phone call with her mother. She was sure this would also most likely cause Jihoon to not want to work with her if he ever saw her working conditions.

“If we’re done here, I need to head home now instead of later. I’ve got a few bags to pack right now.” [Name] said, clear with her intentions of wanting to end the conversation.

Jihoon stared at her, though what was going on in his mind, she hadn’t a clue. He only nodded once he let the words process through his brain. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll see you when you come back; I’m working late so this is probably the last you’ll see of me.”

“Working late on a Friday? Aren’t you sick of this place?” [Name] asked, holding back a smile when she echoed his words. He only huffed out a laugh—a rare thing from him, honestly, [Name] should’ve recorded it to show Seungkwan and Seokmin—shaking his head as he moved aside to let [Name] out the door.

They didn’t bother greeting each other goodbye—a habit they both formed with one another due to the weird work tension they had. [Name] made sure to remind herself to change that once she came back now that some of that pressure had all but subsided.

Strange. That was the word Yeri had used when she mentioned her for the first time to Jihoon.

“She’s kind of strange, according to Professor Im. But talented. Super talented. He was practically begging me to take her under my wing so she can have a taste of production life early. Mr. Yang seemed impressed with her too. Just give her a shot this year, Jihoon, so you can see what they’re talking about.”

Jihoon had almost believed the upperclassman, expecting some kind of extraordinary freshman to be making waves at the radio station. Instead, he was met with a frantic looking girl always cowering behind Yeri whenever there were staff meetings.

Regardless, he was nice to [Name] during her first year, even taking in her recommendation of bringing Seungkwan and Seokmin in to be new possible hosts for the radio show after the previous two hosts graduated. 

He had thought whatever Yeri was spewing out previously had disenchanted her before she graduated, choosing a different employee to be her successor for the Love or Letter segment team. Yet, she had still chosen the cowering girl and irked him beyond a point.

His doubts only subsided slightly when Soonyoung had mentioned to him she was acting differently than she had the previous year. He hadn’t believed his friend, thinking Soonyoung had some sort of soft side on the girl for being younger than them, until he had admitted that, yes, [Name] was anything but that frightened girl now.

Honestly, if the circumstances would be different, Jihoon would be glad someone like her broke out of her shell. He wasn't, though. Something just felt off about her behavior—like it was forced. Regardless, the strange girl he remembered was still around, evident from watching her stare at herself in muted horror at the gym for a little too long.

And the strange girl definitely hadn't left as he heard a crash sound from the other side of her apartment door, making him jump at the sudden noise he wasn't able to see. A shriek that definitely didn't sound like [Name]'s rang through from the door.

"Kill it! Kill it!"

"I can't if you're running so much—you're scaring it away!"

Those two voices definitely sounded familiar, though.

A sudden thump! could be heard, followed with a soft, "You're going to get us kicked out before the lease ends, you know." [Name].

Footsteps could be heard making its way to the door and [Name] stood before Jihoon, a slipper with a thoroughly squished spider  in her left hand, still retracted as if ready to smack another one. Jihoon could only offer a stuttered, "He-eyy." in shock, eyeing the two figures behind her.

If they hadn't already been embarrassed, then Seokmin and Seungkwan definitely were with the way they made eye contact with Jihoon—who suddenly remembered he was their boss. [Name] hadn't seemed to care, however, setting the slipper down on the tiled floor of the entrance and stepping back.

"Oh, you weren't kidding when you said Jihoon was coming over." Seokmin said, gaping as the man walked in and took off his shoes (which was deliberately placed far away from [Name]'s spider'd slipper).

[Name] only offered a frown. "You didn't believe me?"

"No one would believe the idea of you and Jihoon working together, period." Seungkwan chimed in, also watching as [Name] and Jihoon exchanged awkward glances. "Why are you two working together?"

"Love or Letter jingle." Jihoon finally stated simply. He motioned toward the guitar strapped to his back. "We were supposed to meet a few days ago but—"

"I got a stay at home order from a certain someone." [Name] interrupted, giving Seungkwan a pointed look.

"You barely got home before you started spewing nonsense about going to the studio!" He countered back. “You’ll overwork yourself ag—”

Seungkwan bit back his words, sharing a knowing look with [Name], who only stared back at him blankly, as if attempting to stay unreadable. Seokmin shuffled his feet awkwardly, trying his best not to glance between his friends and Jihoon.

Jihoon could only raise an eyebrow. That was the first time he heard that. When they had been messaging each other back and forth, he had been under the impression that [Name] was already back home when in fact she was probably still with her family? He watched as [Name] shifted uncomfortably, as if not wanting to talk further about it.

He only sighed. "Workaholic lifestyles are hard to break." He said instead, offering [Name] a sympathetic glance. "Are we going to your room or staying out here?"

[Name] frowned at him for a moment, staying silent a little too long for his liking before she pointed toward a door. "My room. If we stay out here, Seokmin and Seungkwan might try giving unwanted input."

"Hey—" Seokmin started.

"Or squawk like a bunch of chickens if they see another spider."

"HEY!" Seungkwan countered this time, face bright red. 

[Name] ignored her fuming roommates, motioning for Jihoon to follow her. He didn't bother to think twice, finding her nonchalant behavior more amusing than offending.

When he entered the room, he hadn't expected it to be so… Was girly the right term? He eyed the heart shaped pencil sharpener and the various plants being held by Sanrio themed pots.

No, cute. He thought as he made eye contact with a Badtz-Maru pot. "Nice pots." He mused to [Name], who was cleaning up her space. She glanced at him, then the pot.

"He looks like you." She says instead, making him give her a strange look.

He pointed at a Gudetama shaped pot on her window. "And that looks like you."

[Name] glanced at it, offering a small laugh. "Yeah, it does. Doesn't it?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up for a moment, caught off hearing her laugh—genuine and not the little huff of air he usually hears from her when she’s trying to amuse someone. He shook it off, however, reminding himself why he was here.

They worked together a little too well. It almost scared Jihoon with how well they got along tonight. Though, he had been anticipating some arguments so maybe he was just stupid for making such presumptions. Hours had gone by and the only reason they had to stop was when Seungkwan knocked on the door, popping his head in after [Name] called his name out.

He motioned to something in his hand. “Take it.” He commanded, shaking the bottle of water in his hand.

[Name] rolled her eyes, glancing at the clock on her desk. “It’s not even 8PM yet.”

“You almost forgot to take them last night. It’s better to take them early.” The blond answered back dismissively.

“You worry more than me.” Jihoon heard her murmur under her breath as she pushed herself off her seat.

“What?” Seungkwan challenged, eyes sharp when he locked eyes with [Name]’s.

“Nothing, dad.” [Name] teased, holding her hand out. A set of capsules escaped from Seungkwan’s hands and spilled onto her. [Name] took them quickly, drawing the pills down with the water bottle Seungkwan handed over to her right after.

Seungkwan nodded in approval, casting a glance at Jihoon before saying, “Okay, back to work.”

“M’kay.” [Name] answered back dismissively, settling back down on her seat. She kept her eyes on the door until it was fully shut, letting out a sigh once she heard it click in place. She looked over at Jihoon, who was still silently watching. “Sorry… He gets worried too much.”

“He’s a good friend.” Jihoon complimented, pausing for a moment. “Or boyfriend..?”

[Name] huffed. “‘Stand in-parent' is a better term for him.” She countered, shaking her head. “I didn’t balance school and work properly last year and he’s worried it’ll happen again if I keep working—which, fine, I get but I kinda wanna not get behind on anything for the studio—”

She cut herself off, biting at her lip to keep her from saying anything further. [Name] shifted back into her seat, eyes nearly burning holes onto her computer screen.

For some reason, the hairs on the back of Jihoon’s neck stood up again. “It’s fine. I get it.” He offered her. She sent him a sparing glance—as if silently begging him to change the subject. Again, he nodded, setting his guitar back on his lap again, though not before adding something. “It’s okay to, y’know…Not hold up a persona around me. I don’t bite.”

He only offered an awkward smile as he noticed, again, she was giving him a long, hard stare.

“Let’s go back to the song.” She said.

Whether she took his words to heart or not, a weight seemed to have lifted off [Name]’s shoulders, sitting a lot more relaxed in her seat. A wave of relief washed over him when he noticed the strange girl from last year had come up just a little bit to the surface as he watched her for a moment before turning his attention to her computer screen.

Pacing. Jihoon noticed that was a tendency she had when she was overwhelmed. She'd move from one end of the room to another in such a short span of time, no matter how big the distance. Jihoon was impressed; in fact, he wasn't sure if he could even take his eyes off her from how quick she did it.

Was he trying to figure out how she moves so fast or was it because he just wants to stare at her? He couldn't figure it out; he was still trying to figure out a bigger problem: why was she pacing so much?

“You wanna calm down, you’re distracting me.” Jihoon said, watching as [Name] halted in her footsteps.

“I don’t know how everything else in your room doesn’t distract you.” She says, eyes looking around the constellation ceiling. 

They had gotten into a weird rhythm of going to each other’s apartments once a week to work on Love or Letter’s opening music. It was Jihoon’s turn to host, though he had a difficult time trying to think (let alone, play) anything with the amount of pacing his guest was doing.

“You act like you’ve never seen my room before.” He mumbles, glancing down at his music sheet, trying his best not to stare at the wandering girl. He couldn’t, however, after seeing her inch closer to his figurine shelves. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” [Name] responded, eyeing his Cardcaptor Sakura figurine intently. She cast a glance back at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch your prized possessions, Mr. Lee.”

[Name] laughed as she watched Jihoon roll his eyes at the nickname she gave him after showing him a love confession addressing him like that. He set his guitar down, leaning back in his chair as he turned himself to face her.

“You only pace when something’s wrong. Now, tell me what’s wrong so I don’t have to worry about having to clean up broken glass later.” He said, pushing the empty chair beside him out. [Name], albeit a little annoyed, made no move to argue as she sat down.

“I failed my exam today.”

Jihoon shot her a confused look. A part of him wanted to ask her if that was all, if that was really the reason why she was doing all this incessant pacing. The sullen look on her face was enough to tell him to do anything but that at the moment.

“Oh… That sucks.” He says, earning a hopeless look from [Name].

“You really suck with reassuring people, you know that?” She states. He only offered a silence of agreement to the statement, staring at her and waiting. “But, yeah it does suck; I studied just about everything and still managed to fail. Not really the best feeling.”

“So why the pacing?” Jihoon asked.

[Name]’s face morphed to one of embarrassment as she said, “I didn’t want to bother you with my life problems and pacing around helps me keep quiet… Clearly that didn’t work out.”

Jihoon smiled at the small joke. “Well, I’m in need of a break anyways. I lost track of time trying to figure this music out. Let’s just sit for a few minutes. Or pace.”

“Huh, Lee Jihoon admitting to a break? Didn’t think your little robot heart could do that.” [Name] said, earning a soft elbow to her side.

“You’re one to talk.” Jihoon responds, smile widening as he watches [Name] feign hurt when overdramatically rubbing her side. “I heard from Colette you barely even pay attention to time and just hold yourself up in the office. She’s also the one who told me about your Hello Kitty pajama pants.”

He nearly burst out into laughter when he heard [Name] whisper “Traitor” under her breath. Jihoon held himself back as he reminded himself that it might end up bringing one of his other roommates into his room, essentially bursting whatever safe bubble [Name] felt with him right now.

“You’re kinda funny if you try.” [Name] says, earning an odd look from Jihoon at the backhanded comment. “Almost made me forget about my failed exam.”

“Ahhhh, don’t think about it.” Jihoon said, waving a hand. “The more you dwell on it, the more you spiral. You shouldn’t try to think too much about a bad grade unless you want to go insane.”

A sigh was her only response and Jihoon watched as [Name] nodded at his words, shaking her head in frustration. “It’s just—I studied so hard but my mind was wandering so much that whole time and now I’m just wondering if I should even ask to re-take it or not.”

“Wandering?” Jihoon asked.

“College life would be so much easier if my family didn’t hound me every other day.” Was [Name]’s only response, making Jihoon hum. “They were asking me when I was going to visit them again, which by the way, I honestly loathe since it always ends up with me babysitting my idiot siblings.”

She shrugs, seemingly defeated as she was clearly thinking about her stressful family life. Jihoon could only watch on, thinking to himself if this was actually the girl he had butted heads with months ago. 

“She just seems like she’s keeping herself busy from something and she wasn’t like this last year. Of course, you wouldn’t know because you never spoke to her.”

He nearly kicked himself right then and there as Soonyoung’s words rang through his ears. Did it really take him this long to realize that was probably why she was always pooling over her work and school, barely getting any sleep to the point of mixing things up?

She was doing it to forget about her family problems. And he might not have been a big contributor to her stress, but he was a contributor nonetheless, remembering all the times [Name] did her best to not upset him. Guilt swamped him, making him question what he should do next.

“You should ask your professor for a re-take.” He says instead. [Name] offers him a confused look. “It doesn’t hurt to be a little honest with them, you know. I think if you tell them that you’re taking care of your brothers, they’ll let you do something to save your grade.”

“But that might get in the way of work—” [Name] motions to the computer.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jihoon says. “It can wait. I definitely can wait. Just focus on studying until you make up the grade.”

“Jihoon, are you sure?” [Name] asked softly, brows turned down in a frown.

Something in Jihoon’s stomach turned from the way she said his name but he ignored it as he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Thanks. For the talk, I mean, but obviously the time off working—” Jihoon snorted as he watched [Name] stumble over her words.

“It’s no problem.” He said, swiveling himself back to his seat. “Now let me take the rest of your work time before you leave me alone.”

"You again?" Jihoon asked, narrowing his eyes as he watched [Name] enter the Love or Letter office. "I told you to take a break."

"I am on a break. I brought offerings." [Name] countered, waving the cups of coffees in her hands. Jihoon rolled his eyes.

"More like a bribe to see the plans for Love or Letter." He responds, holding up a hand when [Name] opened her mouth to counter him. "Evelyn told me you stopped by yesterday when I was away and offered her money if she says what I had planned for this week."

[Name] chewed at her lip as Jihoon stared her down sternly before she shook the cup of coffee again. "Bribe or not, it's still an offering. You look like you need it anyways."

She held the cup out to him, eyes bright as she waited for him to take it. Some part of Jihoon wanted to refuse, saying caffeine might affect him later when he works out. He didn't, though. He couldn't. Especially with the look she was giving him.

Wide eyed and hopeful that he'd accept her "offering". He didn't try to look at her as he closed his fingers around the cup, not sure if he can handle the look on [Name]'s face and a little embarrassed when his fingers brushed at her's as they handed the drink off to one another.

“Why are you here?” Jihoon asked, not willing to let up on the fact [Name] was supposed to be on her break.

She chewed at her lip again, a habit she had whenever she tried to think about an answer. And something Jihoon wasn’t sure if he should have noticed or not. He moved his eyes from her lips (though, he wasn’t sure why he struggled so hard) to her eyes, glad she wasn’t staring at him, but at the stack of confession letters on his—or her, actually—desk.

Carefully, Jihoon pushed the notes protectively to his side, shaking his head at her. Even with no words being exchanged, he could definitely tell [Name] wanted to say something.

Instead, a pause only came for a moment until [Name] offered a nervous smile. “It was to bribe Evelyn, but she’s clearly not here… But then you’re here so not really a bad thing, right?”

For some reason, he fought off the turning in his stomach at that notion. “To give me coffee?”

“Exactly.” [Name] said, smiling wider. Again, fighting off the urge of his stomach turning. “You always look like you’re about to fall into a grave; it’s getting worse since you took some of my load. I kinda feel guilty…”

“It’s not a problem.” Jihoon said dismissively, making [Name] scoff.

“You’re starting to look like me when I haven’t slept in 48 hours.” She counters in response. “You’re in your last year of college, too, so I know you barely sleep from school work anyways. Have you gone outside yet at all?”

“Yeah. To walk to work.”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Okay, smartass, I mean what about not work related? The leaves are changing.”

“Should that mean something to me?” Jihoon asked.

“It means you’re going on a walk. With me.” [Name] said, matter of factly.

Jihoon only blinked up at her, not sure how to react. “A walk?”

“Mhm.”

“With you?”

“Yep.”

“When?”

[Name] walked around the table, ignoring the way Jihoon nearly shot out of his seat but nonetheless let her look at the time displayed on the computer. “Right now.”

Jihoon shook his head. “No way. I’m—”

“Busy?” [Name] guessed, shaking her head as she grabbed his coat from the chair and threw it at him. “Don’t care. You look dead and I feel bad since you’re doing my work at the moment. I’m taking you out.”

Jihoon felt his face heat up. Why does she have to word things so weirdly? He hadn’t much time to think about it, however, as he felt himself being pulled away from the room. 

“Why?”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “So we can talk.”

“We spoke to each other on the phone yesterday. And you visit the studio when you’re not working on school.” Jihoon points out, which was all true.

Ever since he had offered to take over for [Name] while she was gone, a sort of camaraderie developed between them. They’d have conversations outside of work, though it was usually to gossip about Soonyoung’s sudden interest in a girl or [Name] telling him about Seungkwan and his rivalry with one of the other hosts for the radio station.

Not to mention, her little stints on trying to get back into the radio station to sneak in some information for weekly Love or Letter segments.

The first week, it was Jihoon who had caught her, dragging her out the building himself and telling her to study for her make-up exams (apparently, her professors loved a good sob story and it didn’t take much convincing to let her re-take them).

The second week, Soonyoung was with him when they caught sight of a blurry figure running into the Love or Letter room when no one else was there. This time, it was Soonyoung who dragged her out as [Name] and Jihoon argued on their way out the door.

It was currently the third week and Jihoon was more than surprised to see that she was the one trying to drag him out this time, though he might see why she did it; she seemed to have picked up on when someone wasn’t looking out of themselves.

“Well, we can talk more. Outside. In the fresh air.” [Name] comments and before he could think about anything else, he found himself on the side of the building, facing a population of trees.

“It’s great the radio station is near the forest, don’t you think?” [Name] said, eyes glancing up at the treeline. Jihoon only hummed, kicking at the leaves beneath their feet as they made their way toward a trail. They let themselves enjoy the environment around them, taking in the chirping birds and the cooling breeze for a while before trying to utter anything else.

Once they had reached a certain point to not see the building anymore, Jihoon finally spoke up. “You’re looking better.”

[Name] blinked at him. “You think so?” She asked, smiling.

She’s been doing that a lot. Jihoon thinks, noting how easily she offers her grins to him. Though, a lot of things have gradually changed in [Name] since she had gone on her break.

 Clothes became cohesive, her demeanor was slowly becoming more like last year’s (though he wasn’t sure the spitfire attitude she harbored this year is going to leave, not that he’s complaining though—he’d rather have a co-producer who can speak up more).

She had done her hair up this time instead of keeping it down or tying it away from her face, letting more of her face become visible. Yeah, she definitely looks better. Healthier.

“That’s what you should look like all the time.” He says, regretting it immediately as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “I mean, that’s what you should look like if you actually balance your school and work life better.”

“Uh-huh.” [Name] said, though the smile never disappeared. She walked a little further ahead before saying, “I’d say you’re looking better, too, but I’d be lying. I wouldn’t have dragged you on a walk with me like this if I didn’t see how dead you were when I walked in.”

“Reading love confessions gets a little exhausting. Especially if they’re just about me.” Jihoon responds, shivering as he remembered a few not so safe for work confessions regarding him and his unwanted fangirls. “Seriously, who even has the courage to say those things to a bunch of strangers.”

“Welcome to my world.” [Name] comments blandly. “Gotta hand it to them, though; some of them are kinda creative.”

“Okay, ew.” Jihoon starts, watching [Name] laugh at his disgust. “You just say anything that comes to mind, huh?”

“As if you don’t.” [Name] responds back, elbowing his side gently. “I’m just a little less shameless about it. You, however, act like you don’t do the same thing I do. We are one in the same, Lee Jihoon, just accept it.”

Jihoon stared at the back of her head, wondering just how true that statement was. From what he’s gathered since his time working with the Love or Letter team, apparently they weren’t any different from one another when it came to working.

“It’s like nothing’s changed.” Eunwoo commented to him last week. “[Name] always sits back there and sometimes doesn’t even talk the whole time she’s with us. Similar to you.”

“Yeah, keep talking like that until you get fired.” Jian comments to him, hitting his shoulder with a folder. He offered an apologetic look to Jihoon. “He just means you both get caught up in your work a lot. Eunwoo is right, though; you do both seem like the same person when you work. It’s a wonder how you two haven’t become friends yet.”

Friends. An odd term for Jihoon whenever he thinks of that and [Name] next to it. Still, he does wonder…

“Are we friends?” He asked [Name], making her turn around. Her eyes became a little distant. Jihoon wondered if he crossed a line for a moment before he heard her hum in thought.

“I’d say a few months ago we weren’t.” [Name] admitted. “And now? I think so. We talked a lot since I went on break. We text each other a lot more now, too. Do you not?”

It was a brief flicker in her emotions, but Jihoon was sure he saw a flash of worry cross her features. He was silent for a second, looking at the fallen leaves on the ground as he kicked them out from the path. Finally he spoke. “Yeah, I think we are. If that’s how you see it.”

“I do.” [Name] said, Jihoon was a little touched at her immediate response. “Hopefully we grow closer.”

Something in Jihoon’s stomach turned again at the notion. He felt his throat dry up as he let the words echo in his head until something finally clicked in him about something. His eyes glanced over at [Name] and the way she kept her eyes trained on the changing leaves. 

Well, shit. 

His brain almost felt like it was exploding. Just when he asked her if they were friends too, such great timing. He did his best to ignore the nervousness crawling up him, trying to find the right words.

“Yeah.” Was all he could offer, ready to give a big sigh as he realized how lame that sounded.

[Name] didn’t seem to mind the one worded answer, giving a satisfied nod as they continued to walk the trail. “Let’s walk for another 10 minutes and then you can go ba—”

“Oh, [Name]? Jihoon?” A voice interrupts, making the two look up to see Soonyoung’s towering figure jogging up to them from the other side of the trail. The blonde was clearly out for an afternoon jog, his blonde hair covered in a cap and wearing warmer clothes. He gave an excited wave once he found himself standing in front of them. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Dragged him out for a walk.” [Name] explains plainly, watching Soonyoung cautiously. Clearly, she was well aware of his tendency to get excited. 

Jihoon was the next one to speak up. “Why are you so excited?”

“Because you two are the last people I’d expect to see outside.” Soonyoung says. “Not to mention together. Alone. Not glaring at each other.”

“I’ll have you know we haven’t expressed wanting to strangle each other with our eyes in the past three weeks.” [Name] says, almost proud at the notion the two of them have had a normal interaction for so long.

Soonyoung let out a noise that could only be compared to a deflating balloon. “Sure.”

“Don’t believe us? Walk with us, then, and see.”

Just when Jihoon thought he could have some peace and quiet… Quietly, he muttered to himself, “Don’t say yes—”

“Okay! While we’re at it, let’s take a selfie…”

Working for a radio station had its perks. Due to receiving bigger funding for its popularity, the station let each segment team have their own office to work in, meaning distractions didn’t happen as often as possible.

[Name] was also allowed to work her own hours without question, meaning she could come in any time she wanted when they weren’t on air. Most times she spent her nights there, working on homework from classes and filing in any paperwork that was needed for Love or Letter.

She let out a groan as she finally pressed submit on her final comment on the discussion board, shutting off the music playing on her laptop before shuffling around to look for the papers she had to deliver to Soonyoung. 

Rubbing out the exhaustion in her eyes before leaving her office, she maneuvered around the office floor as fast as she could to the host’s space, the idea of sleep already grasping at her.

[Name] let out a soft knock, waiting for Soonyoung’s tired “Come in” to signal her to open the door. She let out a laugh mixed with shock and amusement when she opened the door to see two stacks of papers on his desk. “Geez, Soonyoung… Did you wait for paperwork to pile up again?”

Soonyoung only glared at her, though she sensed no type of malice behind it, only an exhaustion she was unfortunately familiar with. His eyes shifted over at the pile in her hand. “Don’t tell me that’s more paperwork I need to look at.”

“Yeah…” [Name] said, waving the thick wad of paper in her hand as she placed it onto the corner of her desk. Something tells her Soonyoung wasn’t going to be able to look at it for a while. “I feel a little behind on work even though Jihoon covered for me.”

“So that means you make me have more paperwork?” Soonyoung cried out, offering an exaggerated cry.

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Oh, relax. You just have to sign it.”

Still, she watched as Soonyoung let out a tired groan, collapsing his head onto his desk in annoyance. “Why did I wait to push all my work? I could’ve done so much more fun stuff on a Friday night…”

“What, like go on a date with a certain someone?” [Name] jibed, covering her mouth as she remembered Jihoon swore her to secrecy about Soonyoung’s love life.

Picking his head up, Soonyoung glared at her. “Where did you hear that?”

“Um…” [Name] started, shifting to get ready to leave.

She was more than glad to not come near it, however, as it swung open so fast, it made the both of them jump. Their heads snapped over to see a panicked looking intern, eyes wild with adrenaline. A piece of paper crumpled in his hand, he shook it in front of the two as he tried to catch his breath.

“Jihoon… Papers… Important… Sign!”

Soonyoung set his pen down, standing up to help the new worker onto his couch while [Name] took the paper in his hand to see it had been an approval request form that was due tomorrow morning.

She handed it off to Soonyung once he stood back up, eye straining to read the paper. “Damn, so much for trying to finish as much paperwork as possible. Why wasn’t this given to him when he was still here?”

“No one saw it until now.” The intern explained. “We tried calling and messaging him, but he won’t respond.”

Soonyoung hummed, as if knowing what he was going to say. “Yeah that sounds like him. Once he’s out of the office he doesn’t respond to work calls unless we find him personally.”

“Yikes.” [Name] muttered. “Well, we kinda need this approval form turned in, though. Any chance you know where he is?”

“Either eating somewhere or at the gym. I dragged him to lunch with me so I’m assuming he’s probably at the gym.” Soonyoung explained. He walked away with the paper. “I’ll just find him and give it to him to sign.”

[Name] watched as he heaved himself onto his seat, clearly too tired to even kick the intern out of the office. He leaned his head onto his hand, picking up where he left off, hardly letting himself breath as his eyes scanned through the papers faster than the last time.

She sighed, offering her hand out. “It’s fine. I can find him before I go home and have him sign the paper. I’ll take it back with me to the station since I come in tomorrow.”

She cast a concerned stare at the intern on the couch, then back to Soonyoung who waved a hand her way, as if to say he’ll take care of him. [Name] was more than happy to offer a nod, not wanting to take care of whatever might come from dealing with him.

By the time [Name] was out of the building, Soonyoung had already texted her the location of the gym with the words “don’t scare him” written right after it. [Name] could only wonder what possessed him to send the last comment but didn’t think much of it as she found the campus gym illuminating in the dark.

She offered a polite greeting to one of the student workers, ignoring the way they stared at her, mouths agape. She could only assume it was because of the way she was dressed—a long coat and a tote bag that looked ready to burst any minute, nothing near gym clothes—as she walked around to look for the producer.

Surprisingly, the gym was close to silent, despite the large population of students in attendance, the music faintly playing in the background as the clinking of metal was the only disruption. Still, she did her best to keep her head low as she peeked around large contraptions that she would have assumed were death traps if it was outside.

She nearly gave up until she spotted a familiar black hat and red watch. [Name] was quick in her steps, careful to not run into anyone as she made her way to Jihoon, who had his head leaning down on his phone.

[Name] opened her mouth, ready to call his name out but choked up when she caught sight of him. Usually he wore the same clothes he was wearing now: black shirt with black pants, and black shoes with the same black hat that covered his head. 

A clear indication he either came back from the gym or his intention was to go to the gym after he finished his tasks at the radio station. She was never close enough before but now she was seeing him and was he always built like some body builder? 

[Name]’s mind could only immediately go to a certain celebrity known for having the same build as she fought off the thought. Composing herself, she walked over machines, offering polite “excuse me’s” to anyone she passed by and giving polite smiles to anyone who looked at her.

It was clear he couldn’t hear her, his earbuds tucked and volume probably louder than she could bear to think of as he kept his head ducked down on his phone. He only looked up when his eyes made contact with her shoes.

Jihoon blinked up at [Name], almost frozen in his spot. “What are you doing here?” He asked, making [Name] snicker.

Straight to the point, like always. “I wanted to work out with you.” She jokes as she fishes out for the papers, taking note of the fluttering in her stomach when she heard the small huff he let out in amusement. “One of your interns barged into Soonyoung’s office saying you needed to sign this. I was on my way out and I told them I’d look for you to sign them.”

"You could’ve just waited, you know.” Jihoon informed, taking the papers to sign anyways. [Name]’s eyes widened as she made eye contact with his arm, which looked like the size of her head from the way he leaned down on it to sign the paperwork. Hercules. He looked like Hercules.

As if sensing her, Jihoon glanced up from the rim of his hat, only spotting the swivel of [Name]’s head to a random spot at the gym. 

Was she just…? Jihoon frowned for a moment, mouth opening slightly then closing it. How was someone supposed to ask their work enemy turned friend if they were checking him out? He wasn’t sure he needed to ask anything if his thinking was correct.

He leaned back down, signing the final page and coughing to catch [Name]’s attention. Jihoon offered [Name] an amused smile as he watched her turn back to him in cartoonish panic, seemingly doing her best to keep her eyes glued on the paper and not him.

“Thanks.” [Name] responds stiffly, stuffing the papers back into her bag before straightening up. She felt a sense of welcoming dread fall in her as she realized Jihoon had watched her haphazardly shoving papers into her bag.“Well, uh… Happy lifting?”

She gripped her bag, giving a bow so fast that she nearly fell over, waving Jihoon’s hands away when they reached out to steady her as she regained her balance. [Name] hadn’t made it far, only about three steps away when she felt a jolt shoot through her as Jihoon stopped her, hand reaching out to grab her wrist.

Jihoon felt something bubble in his stomach as [Name] looked over at him, eyes wide in confusion as he kept his hand on her wrist a little too long. He was quick to let go, doing his best to not focus on how doe eyed [Name] looked as she turned herself toward him.

“Are you heading home?” He asked, watching [Name] offer a slow nod. Jihoon didn’t need to hear anymore as he lifted himself off his seat. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to—” [Name] started, only stopping when Jihoon interrupted her, taking off his hat and shaking out his messy hair. When was the last time she saw him not wearing a cap? Usually he keeps them on so his hair wouldn’t get in the way during work. She felt like she was seeing something scandalous, even if it was just his hair.

“I don’t feel comfortable knowing you’re walking home alone in the dark.” Jihoon said, essentially cutting off any argument she had ready. He logged 15 minutes into his watch, the other days indicating 60 or more, mocking him for not finishing his usual work out schedule. He was quick to exit, however, when [Name] shuffled herself a little closer to him as he made his way away from the machines. “I was already finishing my workout anyway. Just wait by the door while I get my stuff.”

He walked away to the locker rooms, ignoring the feeling of [Name]’s eyes on him. He packed quickly, only bothering to change into his sweatpants and shoving all his materials into his bag haphazardly before exiting.

[Name] had been standing by the door patiently, hands clasped in front of her as she rocked on the balls of her feet. Relief washed over Jihoon, glad that [Name] hadn't actually left like he initially thought she would.

Words didn't need to be spoken as they walked out the gym together, Jihoon opening the door for her to exit first, smiling slightly as he watched her face wrinkle at the biting wind. [Name] kept herself moving forward, leading the way to her home.

Jihoon listened intently to the crunch of the leaves underneath his feet while [Name] did her best to kick them away as they walked quietly along the sidewalk. A sense of nervousness bit at her, a little afraid why Jihoon was so quiet. 

Their newfound friendship was built on a basis of quiet understanding since the day she dragged him to go on a walk with her. Neither of them had to speak to one another during meetings to know what the other was thinking now. A single glance at each other gave them the ample opportunity to understand if something was a yes or no.

It seemed quite the opposite right now, however. An unexplainable paranoia followed her as she eyed Jihoon, who looked as if he wanted to say something but wouldn’t.

Sick of the awkward silence, [Name] decided to speak up. “Have you seen Soonyoung’s post?”

Jihoon groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even remind me…”

She let out a quiet snicker, watching his ears burn red in embarrassment, [Name] recalling the post.

hosh_soonie: unexpected guests on my run!!!

His arms had been spread out in the picture, head thrown at the clouds as if screaming into the sky. [Name] and Jihoon right behind him and watching in amused judgment. Neither had thought nothing of it, assuming all the focus would be on their eccentric friend.

A quick look at the comments had proven otherwise, however.

dj_boo: two house cats and a hamster

imdeekay: best producers!

0_tkm_0: pd jihoon looks so good here

notjiyeul: JUST A MOMENT IF YOUR TIME SIR 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

.kimgi: his dimples omg

user087261846: who s the girk next to him?

[Name] had never brought it up, feeling a bit embarrassed herself as she read a few of the comments asking about her and hoping it had died down until someone had came up to her a few days ago in class.

“You know that guy you were standing next to in Hoshi’s picture?”

“Jihoon?”

“Yeah, do you know if he’s… Um, single?”

The people pleaser she was, [Name] had agreed to ask him next time she saw him, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach when she had agreed to pair them up together. She continued to ignore it as she spared a glance at him. “You seem like you’re getting popular again, though…”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well I’m not too sure I like the attention.”

“Really?” She asked, elbowing his side gently. They had made it to the crosswalk that was leading to her apartment. A car slowly turned into the same street, making  Jihoon maneuver to her other side when they had crossed. “Some girls have been asking me if you’re single or not. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Sure, I guess.” Jihoon responds, ruffling his hair and looking lost in thought. “I’d rather have as much privacy as possible. I’d be more confident without a bunch of eyes on me.”

“Ah,” [Name] hums, a settled agreement coming between them. With such a popular segment like Love or Letter and dealing with the radio station as a whole, [Name] wouldn’t put it past Jihoon to want to have some semblance in his life. “Well, you’ve been doing great at work so if you’re feeling pressure there, don’t stress about it.”

“Well yeah.” Jihoon said, matter-of-factly, mouth gaping open for a moment as he let out an awkward cough. “It’d also be good to have more confidence so I could’ve asked you out sooner.”

Pause. [Name] felt like the wind was just knocked out of her as she registered his words, head whipping toward him. “Huh?”

“I, uh…” Jihoon faded off, eyes darting left and right as he stopped, facing [Name]. “Wanted to ask you out? Like on a date somewhere this weekend…” He analyzed her face, trying to understand her reaction as he continued to ramble on. “Or not? If you don’t see me that way. Or if its too awk—”

“Jihoon I’d like that.” [Name] suddenly scrambled out, unable to control herself when a smile settled on her face.

“Right.” Jihoon said, face burning as he looked at [Name], her face tinting a shade probably similar to his but he definitely didn’t look as cute. “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

[Name] nodded, suddenly remembering they had been walking to her apartment. She turned to the stairs, ready to walk up as she said, “Yeah, tomorrow. And this weekend.”

Jihoon laughed, walking backwards as he watched [Name] make her way to her door. “Yeah, this weekend too.”

An urge suddenly seemed to stop her as she noticed him turn around, however, making [Name] go back down the stairs of her townhouse and jogged back up to him. “Jihoon, wait!”

“Yeah?” Jihoon asked, feeling [Name]’s hands reach for the side of his face and bring his lips to her’s. The suddenness of their closeness made Jihoon grab her waist to balance himself as he finally registered that they were kissing. It was short and [Name] was running out of breath from her jog, making her pull away too early for Jihoon’s liking.

“This weekend.” She breathes against his lips, Jihoon squeezing her waist as he feels her soft breath brush his cheek. He only nods, making [Name] pull away and run back to her apartment, scrambling to grab her items as she finally disappeared through her door, the last thing he commits to memory for the night the feeling of her smile against his as he walked home.

[jokeroutsubs]

📝ENG Translation: Miha Guštin - Gušti: Frontman from the background

Segment of Miha Guštin - Gušti's interview, published by the Delo online magazine, on 2nd of February 2024.

Some time ago, when someone asked who Kris Guštin was, the answer was that he was Gušti's son. Today, the more common question is who is Gušti, and the answer is that he is Kris's father.

Gušti: It is a process. The world spins on and new idols come. I'm very proud of Kris for achieving what he has achieved with Joker Out. So I know that a lot of people don't know who Gušti is, but they know who Kris is. Does that bother me? No, it doesn't bother me because I can still make a living from music. I have so many songs that are still being played that I can live off royalties. So I'm happy with myself and it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I hope that Kris will take another step or two more than me. As I said, with BFM* we didn't have any ambition to succeed at first, but Joker Out knew from the start that they would succeed and they did. And that is where they have an advantage.

*T/N: BFM: Big Foot Mama, Slovenian band that Gušti used to be in as a guitarist and songwriter

Bojan Cvjetićanin told Vikend magazine that you also helped them to be the opening band of BFM at the beginning of their career, and that Kris met producer Žare Pak when he was a kid, when he used to come to the studio with you.

Gušti: They earned the fact that they were the opening act for BFM because they were good. I didn't call BFM, BFM invited them. And I suggested Žare to Kris because I thought they should work together, even though at the beginning I didn't think they were mature enough for it. Žare has a special way of working and he compliments you by insulting you. He works in a cynical way. So I didn't know if they would be able to work with him, especially Bojan. (laughs) I showed them the way here, but I never called the editors or the journalists about my son having a band. Everything they have achieved, they have achieved on their own. I have often suggested things to Kris, and he has taken some of them into consideration, and some of them not. I told him that it was not good for the band if Bojan was going to host EMA. You are making a big mistake! He didn't listen to me and Bojan hosted EMA, but it was only better for the band. I'm drawing experience from our times. Can you imagine if Skočir* had hosted EMA then? We would have been torn apart!

*T/N: Grega Skočir, the frontman of Big Foot Mama.

~ -~ - ~ -~ - ~ -~ - Translation by @kurooscoffee, native proof read by @flowerlotus8

[leclsrc]

can I request prompt number 10 with Carlos Sainz

kissy spells – cs55

genre: fluff, drabble, 1k celebration

10: a hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking — where neither person thinks twice about it.

“—and we’re all just determined to have a productive weekend where our strategies go as planned.” You finish, smiling slightly at the interviewer who nods along, totally invested. You’ve woefully been assigned to answer engineer questions for this network your stress has blurred the name of, seated beside Carlos who chips in with his occasional two cents.

You can’t say you’re not grateful, though: this is the most alone time you’ve had with your boyfriend in weeks.

It’s honestly criminal. Turns out, the sweet spot between keeping things private and wanting to always be together is absurdly hard to pinpoint and stay on. The only pros are you’ve become creative at crafting excuses to sneak off. Oh, and two new sex positions for tight spaces (who knew?) But apart from those, it’s an endless repeat of hiding, pretending, ignoring.

Which is why, despite the fact that you’d rather be working than talking about working, you consider this to be a moment of refuge. Both of you have been so unbelievably, dizzyingly tired lately, it helps to just be in each other’s presence. Your knees touch slightly, yours bare to Carlos’ denim as you fiddle the hem of your shorts and listen to him talk. After this, it’s back to work, your fifth year now of still coming to a mutual decision of “let’s not go public just yet.” 

The interviewer says both your names and you smile at the camera, holding for a few seconds before she waves a signal and you relax, exhaling. You turn your stool toward Carlos and offer a smile, one that translates telepathically into I want to die and you’re coming with me. Like always, your telepathic conversations click; he raises a brow, which means I don’t even get a choice?

None, you say through a slight shake of your head. You both laugh, always amazed at the love you share that leads to the moments of connection like this. He smiles again, narrows his eyes, turns his head to the side a bit. I love you. You need not say or do much. You know he knows what you say back; he’d know even if you made no change to your expression at all.

Still caught in your bubble, you both jolt out when the producer pipes up monotonously. “Uh… you guys can go. Your segment’s over.”

“Oh,” you say. “Oh. Okay. Thanks so much. I’ve got a meeting with some other engineers from—so yeah.” You shuffle awkwardly off the stool, unaware that you and Carlos had just been mindlessly talking while they waited for you to leave.

Carlos follows suit, shaking their hands. “I need to go discuss with Mattia, so. Thanks again, everyone.” You pick up your wallet and clipboard, which you’d left to rest on a nearby table; Carlos takes his Gatorade beside them. Caught in the sudden rush of having to leave, your minds both exhausted from the stress, you just offer a quick smile as Carlos leans in and pecks you goodbye.

You kiss back quickly and smile. He does it all the time, especially when you’ve just slept over, or when he drives you both around. You don’t think twice, turning around and walking toward the rest of the paddock and prepping for your meeting.

The interviewer and producer stare at you both, then each other. They’re slack-jawed. Did Carlos and his engineer just kiss? And then… walk away? Not even acknowledging the kiss? “Did you get that?”

“I did. It’s on the camera.”

“Okay.” She pauses. “You owe me ten bucks.”

[rvllybllply2014]

Since I can’t physically chew my phone which is what I want to do every time I think about them have this thought. Modern au.

Davos and Aeron work at a talk show radio station. They cohost an afternoon show. Oscar is an intern who works with their producer. They have a segment where they have people call in for relationship advice, Davos and Aeron never agree on what type of advice to give. Aeron is almost always telling the person calling in to take a breather, walk away from the argument and to try to remember why they love their partner. He also tells them to try to talk it out, try to come from a place of understanding if at all possible.

Davos secretly agrees with Aerons advice, but since he’s the nephew of Amos Bracken and Amos broke Davos’s uncles heart by breaking up with him he will argue with Aeron. Davos will tell the caller to just call it quits it sounds like their relationship isn’t worth fighting for so why bother? Just quit while they’re ahead, same themselves the heartache of keeping a dying relationship going.

Oscar will occasionally chime in trying to strike a balance between Aeron and Davos’s advice. If the caller and their partner can’t come to a peaceful resolution after talking it out for weeks maybe it’s time to call it quits. He tells them there’s no shame in calling it quits on the relationship especially if it will bring them peace.

Oscar also asks the producer why Aeron and Davos seem to hate each other so much. The producer tells Oscar that their uncles used to date until very recently, their uncles went through a terrible breakup. Willem seemed to take the breakup harder than Amos did, and Davos is loyal to his uncle so of course he’ll hate everything Bracken. But the producer also tells him that Aeron once confided in him that Aeron had a crush on Davos but thought it would be too weird to date Davos while his uncle was dating Willem.

It suddenly clicks in Oscar’s mind as to why Aeron looks like a love sick puppy every time he looks at Davos. It also explains the advice he gives to callers. It also explains why Davos says to just give up so easily, he watched his uncle go through heartbreak and doesn’t want to go through it himself or allow others to go through heartbreak by prolonging a breakup.

So Oscar comes up with a plan to have a friend call into the show with a story similar to Davos and Aerons story. Aeron tells the caller that it might be weird but the caller should go ahead and try to date his uncles ex’s nephew. Sure family get togethers might be awkward but if the caller truly loves the nephew then they should try to make it work. Davos surprisingly agrees with Aeron, he says that sure the caller should try to remain loyal to their family but love for someone else should come before love for their family. Everyone deserves happiness and love after all.

After the show has ended Oscar asks if Davos and Aeron have learned their lesson? It takes them both two seconds to figure out that the last caller was about them and both end up blurting out will you go out with me at the same time. Oscar takes the credit on air the next day when Aeron and Davos announce that they have a date with each other. All of their loyal listeners call in to congratulate them and ask what took them so long.