#or record labels sabotaging

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 70.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

[a/n: the reactions of the fans are not happening at the same time as the events written.]

a large team with cameras and employees of different categories were in a field not far from the city. from the makeup area where they also got their microphones to that piece of land where there used to be nothing, but now there was a recreational structure for the recording, it was about twenty minutes by car. the filming crew surrounded the cast of azza time!, which was meeting for another week to produce a new episode.

the celebrities were casually chatting about everyday topics and also conspiring about what today's maze could be, already accustomed after three years to the dynamics of the program in which the production devised confusingly ordered circuits in which there were different games as obstacles that required general knowledge, intelligence, and also physical skill.

serim often asked herself how she had ended up being part of this kind of program and not one where she could merely sit, eat and talk, as she knew there were many.

after waiting a moment, the director was heard throughout the set announcing that they would begin recording, so the regulars stood next to each other looking at the camera to start the program.

“so…” sejeong, who was standing next to serim, leaned even closer to her friend so that she could talk to her without anyone else hearing. “is she your girlfriend today or not?” she asked as she watched the guests approaching from a distance.

serim returned an annoyed look, causing sejeong to laugh with accomplishment. “they asked us to act friendly in front of the camera.”

“in that case, i hope she doesn't go into acting.” she commented, looking at karina, who showed irritation on her face.

they received the indication that they were already being filmed and then jaesuk, the main host of the program, began the presentation of the episode and gave way to a short exchange of words between the arranged cast, to finally introduce the guests.

“…they finally returned to azza time with their first full album, ‘armageddon’, aespa!” the four members entered the camera vision and were welcomed with applause from the mcs.

the group introduced themselves, as well as one by one, and then their new project, courtesy questions that are asked at the beginning of any variety show took some time, in which the leader of aespa did not deign to place her eyes even close to the position in which the leader of heaven was, as if they did not partially live together.

“serim-ah." jaesuk called, catching her attention. “you are an idol, are you close to the members of aespa?”

“well…” she turned to look at them, noticing that winter and ningning were holding back the urge to laugh, while giselle looked terrified at the possible answer to that question, and karina had her eyes on the ground. “we have recently promoted together, as you know,” she recalled. “we are co-workers, we can still become closer." she replied, careful with her words.

“didn't you exchange contacts after the episode they appeared in before?” another member, jukjae, chimed in, surprised that they weren't close.

“to be honest, i don't really remember that episode.” serim's answer caused her mates to laugh.

“that sounds like serim.” sejeong accepted.

“from among them,” the star of the conversation pointed to the guests with her hand. “karina and i…” the aforementioned raised her head quickly to look at her seriously, causing serim to smile sideways, smug. “we are the closest.” she adverted, turning her gaze from the girl to her work friends.

the others started talking over each other asking questions, after all, they were quite close since they recorded together every week and even met after when they could, but it wasn't enough to know who was in their inner circles, so they were fascinated by the new information of a possible friendship between their beloved serim and another of the most popular idols in the country.

“karina and i,” this time she spoke to the camera, possibly because she was disturbed by the furious gaze of the blackhaired woman who was staring at her. “we met through what she describes as…” she gave a sigh and thought for a second. “a business matter.” she nodded her head, affirming the memory of jimin using that term. “we've spent a lot of time together” she added. "at work." she commented, creating even more tension than there already was between her and the guest, but seeming like an ordinary anecdote to those who had no idea of ​​the context behind it.

“i can't believe we're on the same team again." sejeong complained to serim as both of them, part of the red team, entered the maze prepared for that day.

the azza time labyrinths were artificially assembled sets that were easy to dismantle, but they needed large spaces to be settled up in, which is why the episodes were always recorded in open fields or large spaces such as baseball stadiums or sports courts. they were generally themed based on what the guests were promoting, and in this case, the topic was an alien invasion.

the dynamics of the program is that the participants are divided into two randomly chosen groups that have to explore the map until they find the exit, completing missions, playing games or passing obstacles along the way, and once reached the end they cannot win without a certain number of these carried out.

“it's destiny trying to tell us something.” she brought her hand to her chest acting in love with her.

“serim, could you behave?” the oldest punched her shoulder in frustration. “karina is right there." she joked, without having the latest news on the relationship between these two.

ningning turned to look horrified at the brunette, then at her leader to capture her reaction, but she just, very poorly, pretended she didn't hear, while serim swallowed hard and opened her eyes wide as if she were trying to tell her friend to shut up with them, although she didn't see it since with her competitive spirit she had taken the lead in the team. even so, the atmosphere did not become uncomfortable since the other two members of the cast did laugh at the joke, although they may not have understood it very well.

without giving time for there to be any type of interaction between the two leaders because of that comment, a sharp shout from sejeong was heard, and as a result, the two members of aespa who were on the team reacted the same out of inertia. when they turned a corner they ran into an actor in an alien costume, and once everyone saw what it was that had scared the woman, they simply burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. once they grew normal with it, serim approached the boy and took a letter that he had in his hand to open it so she could read what it said.

unconsciously, due to her restless, game-loving and impatient nature, jimin pressed her body against the older girl's, trying to grasp the instructions to start the mission as quickly as possible, wrapping her touch around the other's upper arm and leaving her cheek only a tilt of her head from jang's skin. but serim loves being right, in addition to being in control of every scenario, and considering the grudge and annoyance she held against jimin at that moment for the attitude she had adopted that they were complete strangers, she couldn't help but notice the girl's closeness, nor contain the victorious smile that appeared on her face, creating a pedantic and arrogant aura, which only unfolded with karina abruptly breaking apart from her side in madness.

“let's see if i understood." dongyeon spoke after hearing the explanation. “he" pointed to the alien. “is going to sing in an extraterrestrial language and we have to guess what song it is?”

"exactly." assured ningning funnily before the mini-game.

they prepared to carry out the activity, sitting on some stools that the production prepared for them and paying attention to the man when he began his part, failing in some, but eventually getting four of the five songs right that they needed to complete that point of the race.

everyone was waiting for the next melody, leaning on the edge of their seats, ready to shout the answer. the boy awkwardly started humming something after receiving the name and the show's stars took a moment to guess what it was.

“ah!” serim exclaimed after identifying the sound, feeling a tap on her shoulder from one, very passionate about the game, jimin, who seemed to have also deciphered it and wanted to communicate it to someone in some way. “snsd!” she shouted, upset.

“party!” yu finished.

for just a second everything was silent, but the moment it was confirmed that it was the correct answer, they both squealed happily. the song began to play through the speakers so they could complete the next part, which was to dance and sing it, to which they both got up running. serim got to the center faster, but she has always been terrible at remembering choreographies, so she stayed static, although not for long because as soon as karina caught up with her, she pushed her out of the shot and started performing impeccably.

upon seeing the youngest, the vocalist remembered the steps and returned to her position, covering her work mate in front of the camera lens and continuing with the dance. however, this one approached quickly and she used the full weight of her body to rush at the girl who had interrupted her, quickly returning to the middle to continue from where she had left off. jang stopped to look at her in disbelief, but quickly regained her determination and approached with wide steps to wrap her arms around her waist and lift her off the ground, carrying her back through the air to leave her behind, going back to the center to finish the challenge by herself.

“girls, remember that you can dance together, we are all one team.” tried to intervene jaesuk from his seat, although in any case, all the spectators found the leaders' tom and jerry act entertaining and funny.

but no one listened to the man and the main dancer once again gained the spotlight by pulling the older's shirt until she was off camera, ending in serim running back towards her and grabbing her by the torso again, but this time maintaining her grip, no longer trying to dance, but to prevent the girl from achieving what she wanted.

"let go!" perhaps because of the distraction of wanting to win, she didn't give that order with bitterness, but rather charged with the emotion of a child who wants to continue playing.

“no! it's my favorite group, i have to answer!" she refused, still having her captured in her embrace.

“it's my favorite group too, nam…” she realized. “serim." she retracted herself, trying to get free.

“it can't be because you and i would never have anything in common.” she contradicted.

“i liked snsd before you did!” seeing that she couldn't get out of the woman's arms, she changed her strategy and began to try to throw her to the ground.

“how would you know when i started liking snsd?” she struggled to maintain balance.

"intuition!" she responded simply as she finally managed, after kicking serim's foot and causing her to lose balance when it lifted suddenly, to get her to fall off. although perhaps she didn't expect the vocalist to take her down too.

“they both got the point for the team.” someone from the staff announced. they hadn't even noticed that the song was no longer playing.

"that's not fair!" from the ground, jimin pointed accusingly her index at the person who said that, with her back against serim's front and still in her hold, still too blinded by her desire for victory to notice what position she found herself in.

"i don't believe you!" serim continued.

“it is possible, we are playing as a team.” interrupted sejeong, appearing in their field of vision above them. "get up please."

after several hours of recording, the red team was on the fifth mission, and this was one of those that required physical dexterity. before them stood a platform that swayed, decorated as if it were a spaceship. in the middle of it, there was nothing more than a tube that connected from the floor under the machine to the ceiling of the place, which had various steps that wrapped around it, and a little higher hung a series of figures in moons, stars, hearts, and butterflies of different colors. on the sides of the wobbly stage were two baskets.

the game consisted of reaching the required figures and placing them in the containers without anyone falling off that surface that kept rotating and moving up and down. those in charge of climbing to reach the emblems were ningning and dongyeon, while jaesuk and sejeong were the ones who had to throw them into the barrels trying to fill them, and karina together with serim worked as hinges, holding the previous two so that they do not fall, but also ensuring that those who climbed didn't either.

the figures were very high, so the hosts really had to work hard to reach them, but dongyeon managed to get a pink star, as requested in the game instructions, and went down to pass it to serim who would get it to sejeong. but as soon as the last one stretched out to try to throw the object where it had to enter, as it was her first attempt, she lost her balance and also the support she had in serim's hand, almost falling into the water that was under them. fortunately, her friend, with speed and agility, released her grip on the tube, taking advantage of the fleeting moment in which the platform was tilted on the opposite side, but elevated on hers, she approached kim, hugged her against her body, and returned to hold on just in time so they wouldn't be propelled out of the game.

on the other side, ningning already had a green moon in her hand, but she was still on the iron bars that functioned as steps. it was difficult for her to go down because of the movement, leaning on her leader so that she could tell her when it would be appropriate to step. but the blackhaired woman had her eyes distracted by serim and how she was hugging sejeong, which is why she was not paying attention to her maknae when she tried to get down just at the moment when the ground rose on their side, causing the girl's foot to suddenly rose and with it the rest of her body that was still over the metals that formed a staircase, leaving her hand trapped in the one it was wrapped and causing her thumb to bend unnaturally as she did not adapt to the abrupt change in position. the youngest girl's scream echoed throughout the place, accompanied by her body falling on top of her bandmate as she released her grip because of the pain.

upon hearing her, the game stopped and the production, as well as the group's staff, came to help her without delay. taking her off the set to the car they had arrived in so she could be checked by a doctor, followed by karina, while the others were notified. everyone gathered outside to deliberate about what had happened and wait for answers about whether they could continue recording, while the members of aespa gathered around the car with their manager and others to see how serious the maknae's injury had been.

after a moment, when she saw the emergency staff leaving, serim decided to approach the girls.

“hey, ning, how are you?” she gave her a kind smile.

"fine." she assured her, she didn't look distressed. “it's a sprain, but it's not serious, in a few days it will heal.” she raised her hand to show it. “they only gave me this.” a splint held the injured finger in place, wrapped with some bandages to support it.

"i'm happy to hear you're well." she walked over to lie against the truck next to the opening where ningning was. "but what happened?" she put her palm on the girl's leg, which made her nervous and so begin to mix up her words when trying to explain, without getting her to understand.

"it was my fault." karina interrupted, gaining the attention. “i should have been attentive to help her get down, but i wasn't.” she explained.

“no, it wasn't anyone's fault.” ningning denied. “my finger got caught in the tube, no one would have imagined that would happen.” she clarified.

“either way, it was my role to prevent something like that from happening.” yu repeated.

“you seem to have a tendency to lose control of things.” serim observed, her tone slightly hostile to her.

"what do you mean by that?" she furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her with annoyance.

“whatever you want to understand.” she shrugged her shoulders. “ning, have they already told you if you will be able to continue recording? maybe you should rest.” she turned to see the named one.

“serim, i think i already told you more than once, but you don't know me enough to make assumptions about me.” she warned irritably.

“don't you get tired of repeating the same things over and over again?” jang turned her gaze to her in distaste. “even jesus rested.”

“i wouldn't have to keep repeating the same thing if you would just stop acting so immature.” karina defended herself.

“i'm done talking to you.” serim cut off her words.

“how can you be so unbearable?” she took a few steps to get closer to her.

“that question is too personal, i'm sorry, i thought you didn't want to know anything about me.” she pushed herself from the vehicle and faced her.

“can you two not fight? ningning almost ripped off her finger…” giselle tried to stop them.

“is all the resentful attitude you've had today is because i rejected you?” she crossed her arms. “poor little serim, finally a woman says no to her.” she hummed mockingly.

“what resentful attitude are you even talking about?” she inquired unperturbed.

“your constant laughing, looks and comments with double meanings.” she recounted. “that speech of yours about how we met that you gave at the beginning, was it necessary?” jimin was furious.

“i was just repeating what you told me.” she argued with an innocent tone. “and for someone who doesn't want to know anything about me, i noticed that you were very aware of what i do all day.” she tilted her head, looking at her expectantly.

“how can i not notice the stuff you do if you are over me all the time hoping that i do something you can hold against me?” she exclaimed, raising her voice.

“did i force you to do those things that i ended up rubbing to your face?” she responded, turning up the volume of her sentences.

“i didn't do anything to you all day!”

“aside from letting your groupmate get injured because you were too focused on what i was up to?” she exclaimed exasperatedly. “or did you really think i didn't catch you staring?” she spoke normally again, but still with anger.

“fuck you, serim.” she said angrily and turned around to leave.

“fuck me yourself!” she shouted loudly for karina to hear as she walked away from her.

[etherealising]

chapter four | to burden natalie berzatto

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing: platonic!natalie berzatto x f!reader | slight carmen berzatto x f!reader | slight the bear crew x f!reader | male!oc x f!reader |

summary: your lack of competent decision-making after mikey’s death puts natalie in a compromisng position.

warning(s): substance abuse | overdose | grief | self-sabotage | angst | humor as coping mechanism | one mention of ativan | unintentional self-harm | blood | hospitals | scars | mention of treatment centers | rehab | recovery | thoughts of relapsing | appreciation of natalie berzatto | avoidance of grief | selfishness | memory loss | unhealthy grieving mechanisms | PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

wc: 8.1k

please remeber you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any warnings trigger you DO NOT READ!

The smooth music filtered out of the record player, a rich voice singing through the house painting the atmosphere with a calm vibe. The two occupants were gathered in the living room, sifting through the last of the boxes that contained small decorations and keepsakes. Discussing what would look best where and what should have been left behind in the move.

You looked over your shoulder to check on Nat, her sudden silence cause for concern. Circling over to her you realized what had stolen the words from her lips. You maneuvered to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the framed photo in her hands, the two of you silently reminiscing.

You placed your head on her shoulder as she let out a quiet sniffle, her emotions heightened due to her condition. “You looked so beautiful that night,” you let out a quiet laugh before moving to stand next to Nat, eyes still focused on the framed Polaroid in her grip.

It had been a year and it still wasn’t easy to look at any pictures of Mikey without feeling like your chest would cave in. You hadn’t seen this particular picture since his passing, the grief too much, all memories painting your west coast apartment shoved into a nondescript box.

You understood now why it was so important to label your boxes when moving. If the box in front of Nat had some type of label on it, you knew for sure it already would’ve been shoved into the dark recesses of your closet.

“You can just put that one back in the box,” you left Nat’s side to continue going through your box, pulling out the book designated to sit on your coffee table.

Natalie watched you from her side of the living room, a small scowl painting her face as she watched you so easily disregard a memory that had once been so special to you. She looked back down at the picture, your bright smile staring back at her as Mikey and Richie leaned in to kiss your cheeks. A fond memory of the three of you the night of your senior prom.

Looking back at you one last time Nat let out a sigh before walking over to the mantle and setting it on the corner, visible for everyone to see. She understood how much Mikey’s death affected you, but there was no way you could heal from the hurt if you never allowed yourself to live in the uncomfortability of grief. It was something you had to want for yourself.

Nat had half the mind to keep digging through the box, eyes catching on another memory. Not wanting to sour the first night in your new home, she replaced the cover, doing her best to act as though she wasn’t curious about the box of memories.

The doorbell rang as you were looking for a place for the picture of you and your mom at your college graduation. Carefully sitting it on your coffee table you made your way to the door making sure to grab your wallet on the way. You opened the door to see the pizza delivery person standing there, giving them the money and a tip before thanking them.

“Oh that smells delicious,” you laughed as Nat followed behind you to your decent-sized kitchen. The two of you grab plates and a slice of pizza before heading to your couch.

Setting your plate on the coffee table, you left to quickly grab two wine glasses and the sparkling cider Natalie and Pete bought you as a housewarming gift. Stopping to grab a bottle of water from the fridge for Nat just in case the cider upset her stomach before taking your seat on the plush couch.

“I’m happy you’re home Baby.” Your eyes met Nat’s before you moved to pour yourself a healthy amount of sparkling cider, ignoring Nat’s laugh at the full glass in your hands. You raise your glass in a mock toast, at least one of you was happy that you were back.

“I guess it's good to be back. Nice to be around people that care about me,” the grateful smile sent Nat’s way as a form of thank you.

Natalie deserved more than a pathetic smile and both of you knew it.

You had been relatively alright after Mikey’s death, which came as a surprise to everyone. Your impromptu stay in Chicago after the funeral was a way for you to keep an eye on Natalie and Donna, occasionally helping Richie at The Beef when you could.

But you had to return to your own life eventually, and when you did shit spiraled out of control for you.

People always drone on and on about the five stages of grief and how it affects everyone differently, and you never thought that statement to be more true than when you stepped foot in your apartment upon your return from Chicago. Grief is supposed to come and go, you were doing everything that everyone was telling you to do. Following all the steps, checking all the boxes. Forcing yourself to try and heal, to feel your emotions as much as you would allow yourself to.

But at the end of the day, it was just you, an apartment full of memories, a voicemail you were too scared to ever listen to, and the shadow of your grief following behind you.

You experienced all the denial, anger, bargaining, and depression and you waited and hoped for the acceptance to come. But all that ever came was the cycle of grief replaying in your life like a bad dream.

You had thrown yourself into your work, anything to forget about the pain Mikey’s ghost left behind. And when your psychiatrist recommended a prescription to aid with your anxiety, you accepted. Anything to escape the shadow of a man you once knew appearing in your apartment on late nights.

But then the prescription wasn’t enough, and the alcohol you once used to numb everything had lost its edge, your days just turned into functioning as best you could. And then there were times you couldn’t even remember the previous day, the last five minutes, falling asleep on the couch.

You had become dependent; dependent on the alcohol and the drugs, and the way they made things all better for a short time.

And then you had woken up in the hospital one day, with no memories of how you got there, no care for what happened to you.

The figure in the chair next to you helped you to escape the fog in your brain. The woman you had known your whole life looking down at you with a tear-stained face, her hand tightly clutched around yours, her presence all the more confusing.

The silence in the room was too loud for you as you just watched the blonde, the lack of emotion on your face breaking the woman down even more. When the doctor came in to explain what happened it shocked you. Not because of the severity of the situation, but because you couldn’t remember a thing.

The theory was that you had been mixing prescription drugs and alcohol for some time, a truth you already knew and were purposely partaking in.

You were at your apartment after work winding down from the long day, pregaming for a night out with your co-workers. The Ativan you had taken earlier at work already put you at ease. You were trying to get to your patio for some reason but had trouble with the sliding glass door.

Too inebriated to unlock it you had essentially thrown yourself against the glass until it finally gave way to the weight of your body and you ended up face down covered in glass and the pool of your blood.

Not fazed by your injuries you collected yourself, glass and all. Grabbing your keys from the counter leaving to whatever destination you had in mind. Somewhere between removing yourself from the mess of your ruined sliding door and stumbling out into the hallway, you swallowed two more pills.

According to the reports, a neighbor found the mess of your body in the hallway, making it a mere few inches from your door before your body succumbed to the deadly cocktail swirling inside you.

In October of 2022, 8 months after Michael’s death; you would overdose.

You were broken from the haze of memories as you felt a dip in the couch. Natalie came to sit right next to you head resting on your shoulder, you gently laid your head on top of hers. You owed Nat your life.

A quiet sniffle left you, losing the battle to keep your emotions under wraps. “You’ve done so much for me Sug, and I…I’m sorry if I haven’t shown you enough appreciation.” You felt Nat’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you into a side hug as the two of you sat in each other’s presence.

It was no secret that without Natalie and Pete, you might not have been experiencing this moment. You for sure wouldn’t have gotten your shit together if you were still all alone on the West Coast. Nat had gone out of her way to find the best treatment facility on the East Coast for you, it had been decided that you would make the move back to Chicago when you were released.

So while you were away facing the consequences of the darkest moments of your life. Nat was at home picking up the pieces of your life while also trying to keep hers intact, not that you realized or cared back then.

Nat and Pete sold the family home that was still in your mom's name, nobody needed to ask to know that it wasn’t healthy for you to live in or across the street from a museum of memories. The couple got you a good deal on a quaint home not too far from them, the leftover money put towards the rest of your savings.

Natalie Berzatto, a miracle worker in your eyes had somehow pulled strings to get you an interview with the Tribune. So yeah, you owed Nat a lot more than placating smiles and cheap pizza.

“Are you sure you’re ready for tomorrow?” You shifted positions at Nat’s question, the two of you now sitting criss-cross applesauce, facing each other on the couch. You gave a small nod, fingers playing with your fuzzy socks.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” you let out a small laugh. “I can’t expect you and Pete to babysit me forever.” You smiled up at Natalie, the prospect of writing again caused a sense of excitement to stir within you. It felt like the only thing you had left, the only thing you were still good at. Although you had almost completely fucked up your life, you still had your writing, and that was a start.

“Maybe we can meet up for lunch after?” You didn’t want to celebrate too soon, you hadn’t even got a job yet, but the idea of a lunch date with Nat sounded like the best form of indulgence you had allowed yourself in a while.

The night continued with the two of you talking, Sugar doing her best to catch you up on all that you missed sans any mention of a certain blue-eyed baby brother she had. As the night began winding down the two of you cleaned up the mess of your dinner, before you sent Nat on her way with promises to fill her in after your interview tomorrow.

Making sure your kitchen was cleaned to your liking, you made your way into your room to begin settling in for the night. A knit crew neck you had meant to return to its rightful owner once upon a time, becoming the basis of your pajamas after a relaxing shower.

Settling into bed you couldn’t help but lie awake, mind racing with all the different scenarios that could play out tomorrow. This was your first night alone in your new home and the reality of just how alone you were slowly began to sink in. You knew Nat would always be there for you if need be, but she had her own life to live, the beginnings of a family in her near future.

All you had at that moment were your racing thoughts and the regrets of a life you had almost ended too soon.

You sat in the lobby of the Tribune leg bouncing nervously as you waited for your meeting with the editor-in-chief, resume, and copies of your work sitting snugly in your tote bag. You knew Natalie had already sent over your information, but your nerves forced you to believe that being over-prepared would be necessary.

The sound of the receptionist calling your name caught your attention. She was standing a little ways away from you waiting for you to follow her, you gave a nervous smile before rising from your seat and following the rhythmic click-clack of her heels down the hall. As you watched her walk in front of you, you thought you may have been a little underdressed in your casual street clothes, but you forced yourself to push your thoughts aside. They’d be judging you for your backlog of work, not your choice of attire.

The receptionist lead you to a corner office, the frosted glass of the exterior providing a sense of privacy. Ushering you into the empty room she let you know that the editor you’d be meeting with would join you shortly. You sent her a small thanks before walking into the room, eyes catching on the minimalistic decorations scattered around the office.

Your feet lead you to the wall of windows situated behind the desk, the view reminding you of an office you had occupied so many months ago. You looked out over the Chicago skyline, it still felt so surreal to be back in this city.

The face staring back at you something you were still learning how to get used to. The scars that decorated the right side of your face were healing up nicely considering how deep some of the glass had gone.

You jumped at the sound of the door closing, someone entered so swiftly you hadn’t even heard them, or maybe you were just too wrapped up in memories of a past life. You hurriedly turned from the window not wanting to seem rude, the man who had entered the room caught your eye before gesturing for you to take a seat at one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

You felt a little less concerned about your fashion choice as your eyes followed his Levi-clad legs as he settled into the chair behind his desk. You could feel your nerves returning, not knowing what to expect from this interview. In the most humble sense you had forgotten what being interviewed felt like, not having to go through the process since getting your first big journalist job straight out of college.

“Nervous?” Your leg stopped bouncing as the man’s voice met your ears, a shy smile curving your lips.

“Here I thought I was being subtle,” you tried to joke hoping to relax yourself a bit. The responding chuckle helped somewhat, so far the man sitting in front of you didn’t seem like too much of a stickler.

“Never thought I’d see the day you were nervous in front of me Baby,” you tried to control the look of disgust you felt begging to paint your features. You were grateful for Nat’s help but you were sure this was a mistake.

“I’m sure HR has their hands full with you.” You mumbled, the roll of your eyes showcasing your irritation. “Thank you for the opportunity sir, but I don’t think this is a good fit for me.” You reached out to the chair next to you where you had sat your tote bag wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“No wait,” the sound of the rolling chair moving rapidly caused you to stop, seconds away from rising from your chair. You turned your attention to the figure in front of you eyebrows pinched together.

“It's me, Hayden,” your brows furrowed even more, your mind searching your memory for that name. “I…uh, I took you to senior prom. We met in our creative writing class that same year.”

You felt your eyes widen as your mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’, eyes darting to the pristine nameplate facing you on the desk. The name ‘Hayden Ivanovski’ staring directly back at you.

“No fucking way.” The whisper traveled easily through the silent office, Hayden’s echoing chuckle caused you to let out a small one of your own. “I’m sorry, it's just nobody but close friends and family even call me that anymore. And, I really wasn’t expecting to see you.”

You watched as he nodded, you could see it now. The boy you once knew in the maturity of his face, hadn’t changed much but it was enough that you wouldn’t easily recognize him if he passed you on the street.

“Uh, the porn stache sure is a uh choice,” your hand raised to gesture to your upper lip, you couldn’t help the smile curving your lips.

Hayden laughed head dropping as he resumed his seated position. “Divorce makes you do crazy things,” your smile faltered, you hadn’t meant the quip as an invitation to discuss any personal grievances. “No need to look so sad, it was mutual.” He shrugged the topic off like he hadn’t given it a second thought in a long while.

You nodded your head distractedly, “Enough about my failed marriage, how have you been?” You gave him a small smile, mind going blank as you thought of the best route to take this conversation.

“I uh, almost died five months ago,” the laugh ripped from Hayden’s chest, the last thing you were expecting to hear. You watched as he found your eyes, his smile disappearing as he took in the harrowing look on your face.

“You-you’re not serious are you?” The question almost caused you to laugh.

“As serious as my overdose was,” you watched as Hayden shifted in his seat, the air easily became uncomfortable. “Sorry coping mechanism.” You laughed the topic off, you had assumed Nat told him when she booked you this interview.

“So um, when does the interview start,” your leg began bouncing up and down again, the nervousness returning. If you hadn’t already made a bad impression you were sure exposing your less-than-stellar life choices definitely lost you the job.

“Nat didn’t tell you?” You stopped your brows from pinching together, the constant frowning sometimes the tiny scar between your eyebrows. “I don’t need to interview you, you’re an amazing journalist. I hired you the second Nat told me you were moving back. That is if you want to work here.”

“You’re not just hiring me because we went to prom together, or as a favor to Natalie are you?” Nat had helped you to get your foot in the door, you had wanted to secure the job because of your merit.

You watched as Hayden quickly shook his head, “While it is nice to reconnect with you, we need some experience in our newsroom. I know before your uh… incident you were working as a travel journalist, and the pay here wouldn’t be the same. But you’d still have full control over the stories you write, although you might not write as often as you’re used to.” You nodded along listening to his explanation. The fact that this was happening failed to resonate with you.

“So, the position of Managing Editor is yours if you want it.” Hayden sent you a small smile awaiting your response, he did his best not to focus too long on your scars as he stared in your direction.

“As long as I can write and edit then I will happily work for you,” the large grin spreading across your lips stretched the small scar stitched into your upper lip.

The smile on Hayden’s lips matched yours as he walked around the desk to shake your hand. The two of you sat there going over the expectations that your new role required, Hayden explaining the environment he tried to uphold at the paper.

You finished the meeting off with a tour of the floor the Tribune occupied, the one you’d mostly be working on. The two of you caught up a little as he input you into the system and created your badge so you could easily come and go as you pleased. You learned that he married Marlene Buchanan, a girl you went to high school with. The ink of their divorce still drying after only being finalized two months ago.

He invited you out to lunch but you had to rain check explaining the plans you made with Natalie promising the two of you would work something out in the future. He walked out with you, the two of you parting ways once you left the lobby.

You stood on the sidewalk taking in the crisp Chicago air. Your life was finally starting to feel like your own again, and even though you had only secured a job, the inevitable weight of doom that followed you was beginning to feel a little lighter.

Natalie was pacing in the office quickly moving to close the door as the chaos sounding through the building caused a headache to form. She knew Cicero would be there in the next hour, and that the money problem was their biggest issue in getting the new restaurant up and running.

The urge to call you was immediate after speaking with Cicero. Nat knew how much you cared about this place, and regardless of what anyone else thought she wanted you to have a say in any decision they made now that you were permanently back in Chicago. And she’d be lying if she said the reserved funds that came with you weren’t also a reason to invite you to this meeting.

Shouts could be heard through the door as she finally made her mind up, you two had plans for lunch anyways so you could just meet her and the two of you would leave together. Any excuse Nat could think up to call you would help her.

Sighing she scrolled through her contacts before forcing herself to press on your name and just call you. She listened as the phone rang, part of her hoping you didn’t answer her call, the hope immediately dying as your voice sang through the speaker.

“Nat, hey! I was just about to call you,” She smiled at the light tone in your voice, a tone she hadn’t heard in quite some time. “We still on for lunch?” The question caused her to take a deep breath, it was now or never she either asked you or she didn’t.

“Yeah of course. Uhh but would you mind meeting me at The Beef?” She was hoping the question came across as nonchalant, she called out your name as the line went quiet, sure you had hung up on her.

“Nat, I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” the apprehension in your voice made her feel guilty for even asking you in the first place.

“Listen, Baby, I know how you feel but we’re making a big decision today and I feel like you deserve to have your input heard,” she waited for a minute before continuing. “If it triggers you we can leave immediately, no questions asked okay? I just…this might be good for you.” She bit her lip as she waited for your response, she would be okay with whatever you decided but at least she had put the opportunity out there.

“I think I can be there in 45 minutes,” the tired sigh that escaped your lips matched the way Nat was feeling.

“Thank you, Baby.” She listened as you said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Nat was sure if she didn’t already have morning sickness she would’ve thrown up from that phone call alone.

It was exactly as you remembered it. Not that you had expected the exterior to change in the year since you’d been there. Although not physically changed things felt different, it no longer felt nostalgic as you stood there looking at the newspaper-covered windows. You could feel the anxiety eating away at you, the sick part deep inside of you wishing you had something to numb your feelings.

You could hear the faint sound of an alarm blaring with how close you were standing, the sound helping you to focus on the things you could control. You hadn’t come all this way just to look at the old building’s facade, and part of you didn’t think you could take disappointing Natalie by walking away. Nat wouldn’t have been disappointed in you though, but since your accident, you were scared to ever see that look in her eyes again.

The deep breath of fresh air filling your lungs helped to cool you down a bit. The pairing of your puffer jacket and scarf felt a bit suffocating.

In through your nose out through your mouth, a few more deep breaths were all you allowed yourself before forcing your hand to grip the door handle and step foot into a building that might haunt you for a lifetime.

The constant screeching of the alarm was so loud it made you glad that it drowned out the sound of the bell ringing above the door. Your eyes traveled around the restaurant, it was the same but it wasn’t. Little things missing telling you that some type of work was being done.

“As I live and fucking breathe!” The loud voice you would recognize anywhere drawing your attention to the dining area, Richie’s large figure taking up the doorway.

You shared a small smile with him. Subtly adjusting your scarf to cover the most noticeable scar lining your face, you watched as the older man took steps to close the distance between the two of you. The tall man quickly pulled you into a tight hug.

You hadn’t realized how much you needed a hug from Richie until you were snuggly pressed against his chest, the warmth of his body helping to relax you. The unconscious thought crossed your mind that you might have never experienced one of these hugs again if you hadn’t made it to the hospital in time.

The love Richie was pouring into the hug caused your eyes to water, Mikey’s passing bonding the two of you, the loss of someone you both loved so much bringing the two of you impossibly closer. But not close enough for him to know the path you had taken after. And not close enough for you to want to burden him with being just another addict in his life.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your head before pulling away, the annoying alarm still blaring at full volume. You stepped back to give him space, “You been fucking around in the crawl space Richie?” The question paired with your signature grin as Richie let loose his boisterous laugh.

“Of course, you’d fucking know about the alarm.” Richie’s disgruntled mumbling met your ears.

“Hey, Richie, could you please turn that goddamn motherfuckin thing off?” The voice of Cicero filtered through your ears. “It’s making me insane!”

“My bad Uncle J, Baby just walked through the door and shit like a ghost. Fucking Mikey booby trapping crawl spaces and shit.” He poked his head back into the dining room to let the occupants know he somewhat had the situation under control.

“Mikey’s fuckin Kevin McCalliper-,” The responses correcting Richie caused you to let out a small giggle, the noise bringing a smile to Richie’s lips.

You continued standing with Richie as he spoke to somebody on the phone, the long one-word password he gave made you chuckle. Pretending you knew how to help Richie was an excuse to not join the conversation going on in the back for a while.

While the blaring alarm was causing your ears to ring, the loud noise was a buffer between your impending thought and the inevitability of being back in this restaurant. The sudden quiet was the only sign that you would have to face a now unavoidable situation.

“Here lemme take that,” Richie reached out expecting you to give him your scarf and jacket. You hesitated, your wardrobe feeling like a sense of armor for the time being.

“Uh, I’m actually pretty cold. Thanks, Rich.” Your hand shot out to pat his bicep, head jerking in the direction the voices were coming from. “Sugar in there?” You didn’t need Richie to reply to know the answer.

You followed Richie’s lead as he headed to the back, taking a deep breath to still your nerves, not all too sure what you were getting yourself into. You watched as Richie pulled up a chair next to Cicero for you, taking your tote bag out of your hands as he gestured for you to sit. You smiled politely, giving him a small nod as you moved further into the room.

Three out of four familiar faces stared back at you, the look on Nat’s face indicating how much it meant for her that you showed up.

“What is this an intervention?” You made the joke as a way to cut the tension that had filled the room, the silence felt even louder as Nat said your name in a reprimanding tone, the joke not being funny to her one bit. You shrugged before moving to sit in your designated chair, shooting a small smile to the dark-skinned woman who was eyeing you from across the table. Your eyes easily avoided the blue ones you knew too well.

You listened as Nat cleared her throat, all attention focused on her. “So uh, I invited Baby here because I think she deserves to be a part of this decision.” Four eyes flashed to you as you awkwardly adjusted in your seat. “And, um she has a decent savings account.”

A snort left your lips at Natalie’s rushed words, her ulterior motives for inviting you here reminding you a bit of her mischievous brown-eyed older brother.

“Sorry uh, big fan of your work. But uh, how do you play into all this.” Your eyes drifted to the unknown woman, a smile played at your lips, a feeling of shyness sweeping across you at the fact that she had any idea who you were.

“Family friend.”

“Old acquaintance.”

The three other people at the table looked between you and Carmy, eyes darting back and forth at both of your explanations. You couldn’t help the cackle you let out, missing the look of panic shooting through Natalie’s eyes. You couldn’t recall a time you would ever describe your relationship with Carmen Berzatto as an acquaintanceship.

“Baby is a close family friend,” Nat interjected before any other response could be given. “A friend we should be thankful for even considering investing in the restaurant.”

Your eyes finally found Carmy’s having a hard time taming the smile threatening to spread across your lips. The false confidence you were exuding helped you not overthink the situation you were in.

The conversation picked back up where it had left off after you entered. You sank into your seat shoving your hands into your jacket and tucking your chin into your scarf as you did your best to pay attention. You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel across the mostly empty dining room, memories of a life that no longer felt like your own clawing to overtake your senses.

Up and down, up and down. The tick you gained while in recovery helped you to remain in the present your leg working overtime as it bounced to keep you focused.

The voices talking around you are drowned out by your wandering thoughts. Thoughts that had you re-evaluating your relationship with Natalie.

It was no secret that you had become a selfish person after Mikey’s death, every decision you made was to benefit you, and if someone else somehow benefited from it then good for them.

That was the reason you stayed in Chicago so long after the funeral, telling yourself that the remaining Berzattos needed you, that you were staying to make sure they made it out of the deep end alive.

But that was a lie, you stayed because you were too afraid to face your own emotions, afraid to face your grief head-on. Even now you could say you stayed behind to ensure Donna and Sugar were okay, but deep down you knew that you stayed because you didn’t want to be alone.

You helped Richie at The Beef because he needed you, needed to know he wasn’t alone. In all actuality, it was you who needed them, you who had become dependent on people grieving just as much as you.

The same could be said about your substance abuse after returning to your reality. The idea of never being able to talk to Mikey, see Mikey, or hold Mikey was all just an excuse you used to justify your indulgences.

You constantly told yourself that it wouldn’t be fair to burden Sugar or Richie with your hurting, that they didn’t need to babysit you while trying to heal themselves. That when your memory became spotty and you missed more than one of Sugar’s calls, it was because she didn’t need to put up with you and your problems.

And then unintentionally or not, you became Natalie’s problem. Not even letting her brother’s grave grow cold before you forced her to face the idea of losing another person she spent her whole life loving.

You pleaded with the universe for Nat to wipe her hands of you. To let you waste your life away and rot like you were starting to. To turn her back on you, because how could you so easily fall into the same vice as Mikey knowing how much it affected him; knowing how much it affected the people who cared for him.

How dare you pretend as though no one would give a shit if they had to bury you mere months after putting Michael to rest. How fucking dare you be so selfish.

There were nights in bed where you’d lay awake questioning your intentions. Had you purposely thrown your life away because you knew Natalie would come to your rescue? Did you somehow manipulate Natalie’s good nature into digging you out of a hole you were so far gone in you couldn’t bring yourself back from?

You always got on Natalie about putting herself first, and how she needed to stop stretching herself so thin for everyone else. And then you went and almost fucking died, and you forced her to take on a role she had been playing her whole life.

You had willingly ruined your life and forced Natalie to face the consequences.

If there was one thing you learned in your recovery, it was that getting clean, staying clean, and becoming a healthier better version of yourself should never be done for someone else. You had to want it for yourself, but damn if seeing Natalie’s face didn’t push you to get your shit together you weren’t sure what did.

“500,” you weren’t sure where the confidence to speak up came from, not even entirely sure what the balance in your savings account even was. Your unfocused eyes now staring directly into Natalies. “That’s my offer.” You quickly glanced around at everyone else unsure as to what they were even talking about but needing to put your stake into the game.

“Like $500..or,” your attention turned to the other woman, her voice trailing off indicating that she indeed was asking a question.

A chuckle parted your lips as you shook your head. “No, I mean 500K.” You made sure to look at each person across from you individually, instilling how serious your offer was.

“Bullshit.” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, sure he had been speaking this whole time but it's not like you were paying that much attention.

You scoffed, eyes rolling in tandem with the sound. “I thought you needed money Carmen,” the name slipped through clenched teeth. You turned to face Nat. Your final numbers would be decided between the two of you, “Nat?”

“100.”

“450.”

“120.”

“375.”

“200,” you hesitated for a minute. The triumphant smile on Natalie’s lips caused your eyes to narrow.

“250, or I walk.” You leaned forward hands moving to lay flat atop the table, a small smirk played on your lips. Your leverage was total shit and Nat knew that there was no way you’d walk away from this project.

“Deal.” The smile on your lips faltered as you faced Carmy again, his annoying crystal blue eyes staring daggers into you.

Clearing your throat you slumped back in your seat, hands moving back to hide inside your pockets. The meeting finished on a good note without a hitch, with the restaurant gaining an extra 250K to put toward inevitable expenses.

You quickly stood from your seat moving to escape any awkward reunion that may have sprouted between you and Carmy. The interest in meeting Carmy’s partner was pushed to the back burner as you made your way through the restaurant, looking for the one other person you wanted to speak with at the moment.

Maneuvering through the kitchen you found Tina not too far from what you remembered to be her usual station. You leaned against the wall watching her work, the effort she was putting into saving burnt and rusted pots bringing a small smile to your face. You shrugged off your jacket and slipped the scarf from around your neck.

“Need some help?” The hesitation in your voice was evident. You weren’t sure where you stood with Tina, you knew how she felt about Mikey and how much his choices affected her. The thought of relaying the past few months to her was too much for you to think about at this moment, you had time, and when you were ready you would confide in her. But for now, there was no point in ruining a much-needed reunion.

You watched as Tina jolted, not prepared to hear your voice. “Ay, dios mío!” Tina turned to you hand raised above her heart, eyes wide. “Why the fuck are you sneaking around the kitchen.” You listened to the older woman’s voice scold you before making your way in her direction.

Not giving her another second before throwing your arms around her, you probably should’ve made sure it was okay, but there was nothing like a mother’s endearing hug to let you know that everything would eventually be okay.

The two of you stood in each other’s embrace in the middle of the kitchen. Neither of you said a word as your quiet sobs began to echo off the walls. You were crying for Mikey, and for yourself, and for all the lives the both of you had ruined, whether they knew it or not.

You were apprehensive to step foot back in this establishment so soon. But it had easily shown you all the things your life would have missed out on had you not allowed Natalie to get you the help you needed.

Carmy’s head perked up as he noticed you exit the kitchen with Tina. His irritation began to rise as he laid eyes on you, Sugar had blindsided him with your arrival. He hadn’t even known you moved back to Chicago, let alone that you had any interest in getting The Bear up and running.

You looked different. His eyes immediately caught the obvious scar tracing along your jaw. The tip of it started a few centimeters below your chin before meeting your jawline and finding its end just before your ear. It was a gnarly scar and he knew for sure the amount of stitches you needed must have been painful.

Carmy was also sure you didn’t have that scar a year ago, nor the smaller one that was carved into your upper lip. He would’ve taken notice, you can’t spend 48 hours with someone and not be able to recall all the puzzle pieces that were specially made to create them.

He watched the two of you approach the group at the counter, you hanging a little farther back than probably necessary, pretending to occupy yourself with the bare walls. Carmy might’ve smiled at your awkwardness if he wasn’t so confused by your presence.

A distracted farewell to Tina left his lips as he tried not to be so obvious in his study of you. His eyes refused to meet Sugar’s as he could feel her watching him, watching you.

Sydney’s return gained his full attention, forcing himself to focus on something else other than his thoughts that were racing and full of you. The clearing of your throat as you finally made your way to stand next to Sug had all six sets of eyes focusing on you.

You didn’t just look different. From the very few interactions the two of you shared and Carmy’s constant people-watching, you seemed like an altogether new person, the confidence and surety he was used to seeing in you was dull.

“I don’t mean to impose, but I was kind of hoping I could take on a more involved role in all of this?” Carmy’s eyes squinted as your hand raised in a flourish to signify you were talking about the restaurant.

You were met with silence. Carmy was too distracted by being in your presence after a drought without you, and Sydney still hadn’t even been truly introduced to you.

“Shit, sorry.” Your hand shot out to shake the woman’s hand as the two of you introduced yourselves. Although she read your articles, mostly your profile stories highlighting various chefs, it was different to be formally introduced to the person behind the stories.

“I uh, actually read most of your articles.” Carmy watched as you brightened up a bit your writing something that would always bring you joy. “I had to cancel my subscription though.” The sound of your laugh went straight to Carmy’s heart, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the delicate sound until hearing it again in this moment.

“I actually have a proposal for you three,” you paused, making sure everyone was paying attention before continuing your explanation. “What if I highlighted the renovation? I was..uh…before,” you had to stop yourself and take a deep breath to ground yourself.

“I was profiling The Beef and Mikey before he…yeah. Um, so I was thinking I could maybe continue that with The Bear,” you stopped to make sure everyone was following along, sending Carmy a small smile before continuing. “We could profile the team, give people a behind-the-scenes look into the renovation, and who’s behind it. I would publish it, it would be great PR and might help to fill seats.”

The following silence made you feel insecure about your proposal. “Maybe just give it a thought. No pressure or anything uh just let me know if there's any interest.” Your voice trailed off as your confidence continued to plummet, Carmy’s blank eyes doing nothing to quell your nervousness.

You turned your attention back to Sugar, a silent plea to leave in your eyes. She nodded “Uh, Baby and I had plans so we’ll be heading out.” You sent the two chefs in front of you a forced smile before hurriedly returning to the kitchen to pick up your jacket and scarf you left there. Call it cowardly but slipping out through the kitchen’s back door seemed to be in your best interest.

The fresh air whipped against your face like a blade, and the immediate change in temperature helped to relax you. There would never have been a perfect time to make your return to this restaurant, and maybe it wasn’t how you things to go, but you felt an immense pressure off your shoulders.

The hard part was over, you made it through the door, walked past the remnants of Mikey every time a specific spot reminded you of him.

It wouldn’t always be like today, you knew that. Some days would be harder than others as you worked through your struggles and allowed yourself to feel the loss of Mikey. One step at a time, it was cliche but it was really how you had to live your life from now on.

Being around Carmy would continue to be hard for the time being. You had essentially watched his brother deteriorate, watched as his mind no longer became his own. And you too had almost become a victim to the whims of your drug-addled mind.

You wouldn’t force a relationship with him and would make him privy to your shortcomings when you were ready. But you told yourself you would be okay if he wanted nothing to do with you, the choices you made would not be easy to come to terms with. And if Carmen Berzatto decided he was finally done with your constant disappointment in his life, you’d just have to accept it.

The sound of Natalie’s footsteps pulled you from the labyrinth of your mind, a small smile sent her way as the two of you made your journey far from this lot of memories.

Carmen stared at the outlines they had hung along the walls, eyes following along with tasks that needed to be completed to open in six months.

He didn’t want to admit it but he was a little bummed out that Sugar returned to the restaurant without you. Any small glimpse, or interaction he could get with you he would swallow like a man starving. The chef stood there doing his best as his counterpart gushed over meeting you, doing his best not to cringe at his two worlds colliding.

Carmy wasn’t sure if he could keep it professional while you worked alongside him on the renovation. Sure you would be doing your own thing in tandem with the work that would get done. But surrounding himself with you in an already stressful time in his life and an even more stressful environment wasn’t something he was prepared for.

He let his mind wander, thoughts of what happened to you in the year since your visit drowning him. Carmy had no clue what happened after you left that night, no clue what had seemed to connect you and Sugar more than you already were.

Seeing you again made his chest hurt. Seeing you was like a hot poker being shoved through his heart, unbearably comfortable but all so warming at the same time. He wanted to know you, know what had changed you since the last time his fingers had traced your skin.

Carmy knew the two of you were nowhere near as close as you had once been. Unsure if you’d ever share a connection like your past one. But he knew while you were here, in Chicago, surrounding yourself with him, the two of you would be given equal opportunity to put this years-long game of cat and mouse to an end; it was just a matter of who bit first.

a/n: well…here we are. i know this might read like baby’s life is just gonna be sunshine and rainbows from here on out but i can promise its not. she is a deeply flawed character with a lot of shit to figure out and a half baked relationship with everyone’s favorite chef won’t fix that. i’ve been around addicts my whole life so i have an understanding of what they can be like, i want to iterate that in no way am i romanticizing addiction. my personal experiences with functioning/addicts DO NOT make me an expert on this topic in anyway, but i do use those experiences to write for baby. i’m always here if anyone needs to talk. i hope you all enjoy <3

taglist: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder

unable to tag: @gcidrvsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

[sunboki]

001. RECORD PLAYER LOVER — ANTHOLOGY

PAIRING. Christopher Bahng x fem. reader | WORD COUNT. 3.3k & 20 minute read | SERIES PLAYLIST. | WARNINGS. cursing | TROPE. enemies to lovers (somewhat), fishing town au, friends to lovers, coincidences, making-up (in a way)

( ✉️ ) — if you want an idea of where the small town boy! chan brainrot came from, seek this post back in july.. it only got worse from there(＞＜)

There’s a new guy working at the Record Shop you’d been to countless times as a kid. So when you show up and see a stranger working the register and not the sweet old man who’d give you lollipops, you’re not too pleased.

The last time a new face showed up in your town had to be before you were born, and as someone nearing twenty-one, that said a lot.

On the bright side, there wasn’t much judgment unless it came from choosing the wrong batch of strawberries in front of a grandmother, or perhaps that was simply your experience living here all your life.

Although, twenty-one years later, you didn’t expect for someone new to show up.

.

.

.

Familiar chimes clatter above your head while opening the door, bright blue label reading “Po’s Vinyl” decorating the windows and staining the tile floors an iridescent tone from the midday sunlight. It’s pretty, it’s ordinary.

Except something isn’t ordinary, because after a good few minutes or so of browsing, your normal stop by the register stops you in your tracks.

Clad in a black beanie with bouncy, tangled curls peeking from the fabric is a stranger. A stranger with toned arms and a pretty nose and kind features you stare at for too long.

But he’s not the grandpa, not Mr. Po who’s been dearly greeting you each and every day for more than twenty years.

Your stomach drops.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” You scramble to the counter, his warm pools for eyes flickering up with surprise. “Where’s the old man- Mr. Po- the one who works here?”

“Oh! Mr. Po? He retired a few days ago.”

Now your stomach decided to do backflips, and there’s a pit of nausea climbing up your throat.

Curse the boy in front of you for looking so happy-go-lucky. This moment is detrimental, why is he smiling? …And why is he cute?

Preparing to ask a billion questions, you pause, fixing the handsome man with an incredulous look before he catches onto your confusion.

”Sorry sorry, I’m Chris, ‘moved in last night. And you?”

Debating upon either running out the door right now to end up apologizing later, you crack a small smile you hope looks a tad bit more graceful than earlier.

Chris, huh.

“Y/n,” You reply, noting the soft dip of his dimples. “And uh.. you haven’t met Miss May yet, right?”

The question, coming off as more of a warning than anything, earns a sheepish shake of his head noticing your pitying expression.

Granted, the woman wasn’t that awful, she’s just.. Miss May. An unmarried, stubborn, seventy year old prune who will rightfully argue with anybody about anything and rightfully enjoy it. Not to mention her addiction to finding a suitable lover, and not just for herself.

Trust, once she lays eyes on this breathtaking hunk of husband in front of you she’ll never leave him alone. Might as well treasure your days until you’re stuck in the witch’s dungeon.

“Can I ask what you mean by that?“

Spaced out watching his lips move, you barely caught the question till he cleared his throat and every particle in your body resorted to self sabotage.

Way to make an introduction.

Opening your mouth to respond, you choke on your words, hastily run behind the counter and whisper-scream for him to duck at the sight of said woman passing by the window.

Speak of the devil.

At his attempt to peek out, your hand unconsciously forces his head down, slapping on your best “nothing to see here!” façade while the heel-wearing matchmaker saunters in.

“Why hello dear,” She casually drawls, thin brows raised.

The woman slowly grins, stepping forward to lean over the counter and peer down where Chris hides blinking up beside your calf.

“You can come out now.” She says with a chuckle, and he hesitantly raises up, face blooming pink.

Erupting with obvious delight, she claps her claws hands together, and you can feel the dread creeping in from a mile away.

“My my, I didn’t know you two knew each other- -“We don't!” Shouting in unison, you synonymously turn to each other, nothing but utter puzzlement etched across your faces. It’s like something out of a sitcom. Literally.

“He’s Chris,” Nervously, you refer to the man with an uncertain point of your finger, him doing the same.

You’re certain if this situation got any more awkward you may win a spot in the book of world records.

Miss May amusedly shook her head. “So you do- -“No!”

She might as well have been internally arranging a wedding by the way she stared through your souls, neither of you daring to move a muscle out of fear she might pop a ring out of her ass and declare you engaged if you breathed loud enough.

“Alright alright, I’ll leave you two to your business then.” Waving like some pretentious heiress, you make sure to mock the action once her back is turned—Chris stifling a bubbling laugh beside you when she finally leaves.

You have an itch this won’t be the last time she stops by. You’ll just pray it won’t be when you’re within a six foot radius of both this shop and the man next to you.

Sorry Chris, it’s every man to themselves with Miss May.

Brushing off your clothes, you step back slightly, not realizing how close you’d gotten to him before nearly bumping into the dark-haired man. And, in the least weird way possible (that's still weird), from your closeness, you discover he smells like the ocean. Not too salty, not too strong. Like the sea’s air clings to his clothing.

Considering he got here a day ago, he must’ve stopped by the harbor on his way here. Strange.

“I’m.. gonna go. See you sometime?” Heading toward the door, you spare a glance behind you, vision again magnetically pulled down to his lips—so plush and pretty, then back to those equally pretty eyes that crinkle when he smiles goodbye. A nervous habit.

Who knew a potential heartthrob would show up here out of all places.

Guess things were finally getting interesting.

Your trek home wasn’t too eventful, unless you counted locating Mr. Po, begging him to come back, and avoiding the severely bitter tea he kept offering—then yeah, not too eventful.

Jamming the key in your door and being sure to successfully waste at least three hours forcing the newest addition to town out of mind, you’d like to say by the time 6pm rolled around he was completely void of your thoughts, but the coffee stain on your shirt after imagining his face said differently.

Best part about not having a neighbor? Walking around without a top, bottoms, or anything on was always on the table. Sort of gross, but you get the picture.

Best part about not having a neighbor yet.

You should’ve put the pieces together sooner, because already halfway into pulling your shirt up off your head did you notice a pair of eyes meeting yours from the other, usually vacant house next door.

Chris’ eyes. Unmistakable and currently swimming with horror.

It wouldn’t surprise you if you looked the same right now.

Urgently yanking the fabric back over your body, you practically throw yourself down, met with nightmare-fueling reality and too much embarrassment to properly function nor rise from your squat on the floor.

Moved in last night, he’d said. But the one thing he forgot to mention was that he moved in right next door.

Fucking. Fantastic.

. ..

Over the next five days, you’ve come to the conclusion that Chris makes music. Or something involving headphones, his finger tapping a beat, and the occasional nod of his head to a rhythm—observations made from peeking out the window each evening.

It’s sort of mesmerizing watching him routinely click buttons. Like, in a sense, you learned the first clue about his life before telling him your name.

That is until he rises and you prepare to duck, fixated on his adam's apple bobbing when he swallows, pretty, still damp strands of dark hair crowning his forehead.

The last thing you need is for him to catch you ogling after having witnessed you half naked, something that would, quite literally, be the cherry on top of demolishing your ego.

Knowing him though (after only physically meeting once), he’d probably gladly forgive and forget, but you couldn't, and that was the problem. Couldn’t shake that incessant pit in your stomach telling you if it were anyone else you’d be able to move on.

Anyone other than him, other than Chris.

Something about him. There was something about him.

On the other hand, Chris couldn’t forget either. The image permanently tattooed in his brain for what felt to be eternity.

Not just your body (and also your body), but you, the incredibly attractive new acquaintance he’d met hours beforehand was, coincidentally enough, his neighbor.

And it didn’t take a genius to figure out you were avoiding him since, frankly, it was virtually impossible not to run into everyone in this town at least once a day.

He was a nice guy, so he gave you your space. Nevertheless, that didn’t keep him from picking some fun from time to time.

Like yesterday when he’d noticed you standing by your sink, repeatedly stealing not-so-sneaky glimpses.

Slyly deciding on honing the most nonchalant move in the book, he stretched. Rolling his head back, a tiny bit of his abdomen becoming visible when his arms raised up, and even sighing just to add to the ambiance.

Trying not to laugh had never been so difficult in his life.

Regardless, avoidance never lasted forever, and seeing you practically tiptoe around town was too obvious not to pay mind to.

So when the door to Po’s Vinyl creaked open during his evening shift, he craned to greet the customer, only to be met with bare space. Well, prior to noticing your hunched frame stalking through aisles, crouched down rather comically.

Biting his tongue, he watched you scour like a mad-woman, finally stilling in front of at a new arrival, the latest album restocked yesterday.

Turns out you were fated to run into each other again somehow. One way or another.

Maybe this was his chance to clear things up, or maybe that was the wrong move, maybe it would mess everything up and you’d move away and— Oh. You’re in front of him now, pale as a ghost and religiously averting eye contact.

“This,” You mutter, barely forming coherent sentences while sliding the album forward, hand wildly fishing through your bag in search of your wallet.

He stays quiet, periodically fixating on your expressions while scanning the barcode. Debating, contemplating.

“Hey can we—“

“Sorry! I really need to go to the vendors today, another time?” Scrambling, you snatch your purchase and rush off, ceasing to take note of the playful smirk painting his features.

He has an idea, an idea that may or may not work.

He’ll test his luck.

Spending the majority of his shift waiting for you to pass by again, he immediately locks onto your frame sprinting past an hour or so later.

Stepping from the store and calling out your name multiple times, it only makes you walk faster in response, leaving him to gradually catch up and move in front of you.

You try slipping past each side, finding yourself blocked every time. Your brows knit frustratedly.

“Y/n, can we talk, please?”

You sigh, stalling your movement to cross your arms and send him a taut gaze.

He can tell you hate this, hate standing here and especially hate his invitation, but the small, curt nod he got after a few seconds was enough.

Perhaps, that “maybe” would turn out true. The chance to clear things up.

He hoped.

. ..

“Look, I didn’t see anything.”

“Liar.” You grumble, jogging to keep pace without heading anywhere in particular.

If only you were a toddler and could throw a tantrum to get out of this due to simply being petty. Except you couldn’t. You were an adult, and you had to handle the situation like one.

What bullshit.

Flailing his arms helplessly, he tugged his jacket tighter against his body, the chilling air only dropping further as you neared the ocean.

“I’m not lying! Seriously!” Voice childish whilst avidly squirming around, the sound of gray rocks clattering beneath your shoes muffles your conversation.

He halts suddenly and you do the same, ceasing to acknowledge how far you’d aimlessly walked till the Lighthouse, located on the furthest side of town, looms above.

There’s a good minute of silence, interrupted by clearing his throat and simultaneously sending you a mischievous glance.

“Although,” He begins. “That red color was cute.”

You blink, watching as he gestures to his chest before swiftly dodging your swinging fist, looking mere seconds from exploding.

It’s sort of adorable.

Adorable in a dangerous, likely-to-kill-you way. But adorable.

Albeit expecting you to drown him, sucker punch him or suffocate him (quite possibly all three), you alternatively grab his hand, dragging him towards the Lighthouses’ entrance and up the winding rails.

Chris doesn’t interject nor pull away, face instead broken into a sweet smile while following you, observing you.

Arriving at the top that overlooked blue cascades, you sit down, not caring to explain with your knees pulled to your chest. He doesn’t mind.

It’s hard not to admire the endless abyss of water overwhelming every expanse in view, the moon’s glint scattering upon its surface. Wind whips your hair in wild directions, and it’s rather cold now above ground level.

Chris quietly hikes up the last few stairs behind you, easing off his jacket to drape around your shoulders—earning a hum of appreciation as he drops down on your right.

Silence.

“Hey, um, thanks.” He speaks, but his voice is softer this time, sadder this time, and if it weren’t for you two being mere inches apart you doubt you would’ve heard it.

“For what?”

“Nothing important. Just, thanks.” Peering at you with a tilt of his head, you decide not to pry, reflecting his subtle happiness.

Being completely honest, you don’t have the first clue of what Chris’ life was like before here. Somehow, it felt better staying that way. We all have secrets, and in a sense, this seemed to be his escape, his own secret.

Whatever his history entailed, you’re glad it led him to Seoul. Lead him to you.

“Awe,” You shove his shoulder lightly and the man pouts, cheeks dusted pink from the biting cold while his eyes stay trained on the sea, glimmering.

You sit there for a few minutes, listening, appreciating.

“Say, ‘wanna swim?”

The sky dark overhead, Chris gives you an incredulous look, wondering if you’re joking.

He’s quiet, eventually nodding and nearly toppling down the circular stairs after you, hastily pulling off your shoes to run through sand and scattered shells.

It’s stupid, so stupid swimming in freezing cold water at night.

Something the you who didn’t know Chris wouldn’t ever consider. But now he was here, currently taking off his shirt and— shit. He’s taking off his shirt. Holy shit.

Unfortunately, you weren’t given much time to be shocked (and mystified) before being picked up and literally thrown in, clothing and all very much intact.

Sputtering as you surfaced, you instinctively covered your top half, earning a giggle from the greek god of a man a few feet away, calf deep in the water.

“What’re you all shy for? ‘S not like I haven’t seen your—“ Now it’s his turn to be dunked, and you’re more than happy to force his curls into the water below, both drenched and shivering.

This is like a fever dream. Like you’ll wake up in your cozy bed to never have any of this happen in the first place. Never have had Chris happen in the first place.

Unable to contain the question, words basically pour out at an alarming pace the moment you open your mouth.

“Are you real?”

Because the moment feels too good to be true.

You both stop.

“Am I real? What, wanna find out?” He cockily points to his flexed arm, leaning your way while you shrink back, face contorted with disgust.

Best to have kept that one to yourself, but hell, you’d give in just this once.

Wading closer, you wrap your arms around his tummy in a sticky, uncomfortable hug. Chris doesn’t pull back though. Alternatively, he reaches up to pat the back of your head, surprised expression transforming into that of fondness.

You stay that way, wordlessly confessing so many things in a minute and a half as the stinging breeze seems to rattle your bones. Things you don’t have the courage to say aloud, things Chris understands all the same.

Walking home was a blur, filled with shapes and colors you barely recognized till the sound of a door opening knocked you back onto your feet.

Too cold to comprehend anything, you both race into separate rooms, coming to the realization this isn’t your home when searching for a towel to cover yourself.

Not your home, but his.

And you wonder if his setup is still situated directly in front of your window like normal. Wonder if, possibly, it was a coincidence you were now in the house you’d been staring daggers into for weeks, or if it all was a twist of fate.

How funny.

There’s quiet, childish interaction as he knocks on the door, sheepishly handing you a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt while his eyes stay glued to the floor.

Yet you can’t bring yourself to tease despite how bad the urge is, because he’s just him.

And you’re wearing his clothes. That too.

A hair dryer seated on his bathroom counter catching your eye, you pop your head out the door, yelling to Chris who’s busied himself somewhere in the living room.

“Hey Chris! Want me to dry your hair for you?” You shout, and he shuffles to make out what you said, practically lighting up witnessing you wearing his clothes.

The view is better than he could’ve ever imagined.

Laughter fills the air, all squeaky and high-pitched with you seated above him on the couch, occupying the floor while drying his wild curls that fly in every direction.

Clicking the off button, his head falls back to look at you, long eyelashes dusting and perfectly framing chocolate brown orbs. He’s practically glowing, and cupid has to be lingering nearby by how fast your heart thumps in your chest.

“…Can I spend the night?”

Whispering, you carefully place your hands on either side of his face, glancing back and forth erratically between his eyes and lips.

You don’t notice how close you are, a habit picked up from the start. He draws you in like a Siren, and you’re more than happy to senselessly follow his song.

His lips part, breathlessly uttering.

“Yes.”

And before you know it, you’re capturing his lips just as senselessly, kissing the man as if a near microscopic thread connected the both of you.

That is until Chris took charge, pulling your right-side up face against his upside down lips. Deeper, hungrier.

Crashing, like the moon-reflected waves you’d seen earlier. Messy and greedy, fervent. So many feelings, so many words without sound. You were good at doing that.

You’d like to admit it lasted for a few seconds, but from how you managed to somehow end up in his lap in the process, that definitely wasn’t the case.

“Here,” Chris says, handing you a warm mug of tea and settling beside you on the couch once you finally finished eating each other's faces, TV playing continuous episodes of Friends that numbly buzz your eardrums.

Neither of you spoke apart from exchanging drinks, atmosphere comfortable, exhaustion growing the longer you sat. Your eyelids began to droop before your head (unbeknownst to you) plopped onto his shoulder.

Initially Chris tensed, waking up from his own dazed daydream to marvel at the now sleeping beauty, you, cozied up against him.

He stared for a while, taking in what small interactions deprived him of. Those tiny details of you, the imperfect perfections. Beautiful.

Brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, he smiles—one that he can’t contain, one that hurts his cheeks from how big and bright it is.

“I’m so glad we met.”

> SERIES TAGLIST. @phtogravi @liknws @luckieleaf @jhstayy @meloncremesoda @chans1aptop @eternitywaveshello @meanergreener @ladylexis @love-gy-u @hanjingin @idkluvutellme @dark-anxel @yubinism @rachabreathing @seung-scrittore @fylithia @skzsupremacy @alrm02 @ener-energy @koliki @anskiiz @dprkbyn @bellamuerte1987 @ylixbok @hanjisung-enjoyer @youngunknownwitch @hwangflora @hanjiingin @starlost-andfound @taeriffic @flwerfield

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[asteracaea]

i'm still not 100% convinced about this intepretation (but it's really fun to play with all ideas!), but thinking about this line:

"cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden"

if TSMWEL is about SB and a failed coming out, what if this line is him telling her that her songs wouldn't be as sexy (or make as much $) if she came out because they would lose the forbidden dangerous nature of her longing (at its height in reputation, her most recent and highest grossing release at that point) that made them so hot, and when he couldn't control her via the record label anymore, he sold her masters to SB2 to sabotage her "sparkling summer" and coming-out plans with Lover era

[informalmajesty]

Jimin is not being sabotaged by his own label

This tag used to be (mostly) fun and now all I see are large text posts pitting Jimin and JK against each other and, look, it’s not as complicated as many of you are making it out to be, nor is there some grand conspiracy to *checks notes* pit JK and Jimin against each other or *keeps checking notes* a SPECIFIC vendetta against ONLY Jimin, their artist who *scrolls scrolls scrolls through notes* went number 1 on Billboard.

So here is a large text post on the woes of American capitalism (yes. Really).

Here’s the reality

Billboard DID Sabotage Jimin

Let’s get the big sabotage that did happen out of the way — BILLBOARD (and friends. Will circle back to this) ARE RACIST SNAKES AND ALWAYS HAVE BEEN.

Billboard has a history of keeping Black artists off of the pop charts. One example, R&B was largely created as a separate chart to move a category of Black artists from the Hot 100 pop charts. It was a big deal—as (1) example—when Boyz II Men crossed over to the pop charts multiple times.

And then what happened? The American music industry caught up and started cranking out white boy bands that wrote and performed R&B but. Funny. Somehow it was now considered JUST pop on the H100 POP charts. They weren’t pushed immediately to R&B and had to work their way over.

This was considered R&B for the R&B charts that was a “crossover”

And this was considered mainstream pop that needed no crossover.

Yeah, Billboard have always been racist snakes.

So flash forward to 2023. We know they tried HARD to keep BTS from the H100. Going into Proof, BB limited digitals, reduced the weight on sales and upped weight on radio. Why? American music labels can control radio. They cannot control sales and it’s legally far more messy for them to do so.

But then. JIMIN happened.

ARMY got Jimin to H100 #1 with the rule change and the American music industry lost their collective shit.

Why do I say COLLECTIVE and not just Billboard? Well.

This is so essential to the punch line of this rant.

American capitalism only cares about its friends.

What does that mean?

I work in Silicon Valley. You want to know why there is a major diversity problem in Silicon Valley? Yes. There is explicit and obscene misogyny and racism, but the biggest problem is less explicit albeit just as systemic.

White men tend to hang out and befriend other white men already in their “circle.” When some rich person or VC firm’s buddy is like “hey I need money for this thing” they are like “yes, of course, buddy, here you go!!” And they get tons of cash without having to prove anything.

I will not say the startup I worked at but it’s valuation was in the billions and their funding was in the billions with NO product built yet. How they got those billions? A well known stunt performer was besties with the then CEO of a major major tech company and he said “hey bestie give my friend over here hundreds of millions of dollars.” And then this startup got hundreds of millions of dollars. Was there due diligence done? Absolutely. But would the CEO of a major tech company give a crap if his best dude didn’t vouch for the startup? No.

Humans are extremely relationally driven. Merit is basically bullshit. Merit is so so rarely considered in anything. Who are you friends with? That’s how most things are done.

So, Billboard has a lot of friends. Those friends are in major record labels. And those friends only care about making as much money as possible while retaining the status quo.

What goes against all of that? A group of non-white, non-American men that they make very little money from because their label is completely seated in a different country.

So when Like Crazy—a solo record by a Korean artist under a Korean label with a Korean songwriting team—comes in and dethrones FLOWERS, Columbia Records’ darling for the year (no hate to Miley or the song, it’s solid, love Miley), oh my god were they SEEING SOME RED.

The MONEY they PAID to see Flowers on top of radio, of playlisting, of cultural consciousness and a NON AMERICAN NON WHITE MAN just dethroned that.

My GUESS (I don’t know, also keep in mind BTS didn’t seem to have the friendliest exit from the Columbia distribution deal) is that Billboard’s BFFs at Columbia threw a fit. And Billboard responded by saying “of course, bestie, we’ll remove the problem.”

And there goes 100k sales in the next week. Deleted. Gone.

Who is going to call them on that? Hybe could propose an investigation, sure, but here’s the thing — it’s not illegal. Billboard didn’t break any law. It’s THEIR completely made up chart that they can change at any time depending on what labels want (this is how Wall Street works too, btw). Everything is made up to appease the same 50 white men. Bleak but true. Music industry is far from the exception.

Okay so moving forward — now we have Jungkook’s Seven coming out. And Billboard a week before release finally decides to tell us the rule they CREATED BECAUSE OF JIMIN (it’s a shitty rule of course but damn Jimin’s power)—D2C sales no longer count.

Jungkoook makes it to #1 anyway because ARMY is freaking amazing AND yes. Yes, Jungkook got more US promotion, help on Spotify, general promo, radio etc than Jimin.

BUT THIS DID NOT HAPPEN BECAUSE BIG HIT FAVORS JUNGKOOK AND SABOTAGED JIMIN

Remember — everything is determined by rich men in power and who they are friends with.

What did Jungkook do? He went to an American producer who is besties with Scooter Braun (Andrew Watt has worked with several of Scooter’s artists including Justin Bieber, namely on Peaches) who has power to contact his besties at Spotify and wherever else.

And what does going to an American producer unlock for Jungkook? A pop track highly likely to do well in America. So then what does Bang PD do? Recognize that because the dude is a billionaire and he likes money and he says (and we know he said this) “this is going to be a hit.” And there you go, you have the Seven marketing campaign that Like Crazy didn’t quite get.

This isn’t “oh my god BigHit / Hybe hates Jimin.” This is “Jungkoook took an easier, more commercial route.”

If Jimin wants to go get a song like Seven….he can go get a song from an American producer who is friends with the right people.

Instead he wanted to work on a personal project with Korean producers and it’s amazing and beautiful and also went number one and was also a huge success.

And Jungkook wanted this really great and incredibly commercial pop song.

Both are valid. Both are going to unlock different resources for the artist. And both Jimin and JK know this. They chose what they chose. That’s it. End of story.

As for Seven v LC album stock— stock is highly likely determined by basic predictive analytics models (exponential smoothing, maaybe a regression, maybe even something as simple as moving avg idk). LC was a sizable increase from Astronaut and other BTS singles. So then Seven likely adjusted to that increase. Again. That’s it guys. That’s literally it.

So can we please have the tag back and stop pitting JK and Jimin against each other and respect that Jimin chose to do a more artistic, personal project while JK (at least for now) did not?

If you want to be mad at something, be mad at American wealthy white men and their friends.

[smokingasters]

A detail about the Peacebreakers in Providence. (translated + spoilers)

Ministry of Foreign Affairs Overseas Research Department Field Survey Team/Peace Breaker Official activity period: 2098/04~2113/04

A unit that obtains and manipulates information useful to Japan from other countries. Its main mission is to enter other countries, gather information, carry out sabotage operations, and provide weapons and operational support to anti-government organizations who support the Japanese government. Regarding anti-government support operations, operations were carried out through domestic third-party organizations

(Example 1). It has been confirmed that it was provided to and expanded to the government and rebel forces of the former Southeast Asian Union (commonly known as SEAUN) (see corresponding data 04231 for details). Through "monitoring"derived from [...] The members were selected from among the soldiers who belonged to the Special Forces of the National Defense Force, based on the Sibyl System's advanced decisions, and from among them, those who had a particularly strong sense of national pride were selected. Establishment: Wave After its establishment, the company did some original work. Main strategies and execution records. 2099_Conflict within the Union of Southeast Asia

2111_Rebellion in the Republic of South Asia 2112_Operation Footstamp 2113_Kona Island independence group reduced cropping Involved in etc. For details, see 67721 data

In June 2118, the decision was made to dismantle the unit, and in the same month, the whereabouts of the unit commander and training staff went missing.

In October 2118, independent activity was confirmed, and it was completely destroyed. To this day, it is said that its range has expanded to include Japan, Northern Russia, and the Russian Federation. Tonami is said to have been the general manager since the company's founding.

■ PB2098 type TUSIMA PS (Peacebreaker Armor) A powered suit that is standard equipment for the Peace Breaker Corps. It covers the head, upper body, and lower body, and is equipped with heavy armor and assist functions in each part. Increases the wearer's mobility by 1.25 times. Visibility is ensured by using cameras in front and behind the head to project images directly onto the eyes using internal scale projection sensors. It is also equipped with an infrared sensor and 3D prediction function MS2 as an option. It is possible to carry out operations without securing visibility even under conditions of poor visibility. Multi-type labeling function installed on the front of the waist

***

Sibyl itself is promoting conflicts to expand itself, and then denying asylum to the refugees which is why they're confined to Dejima/Kyushu. Sibyl lets MFA do the dirty work and it's obvious that Sibyl just turns a blind eye to this because it benefits their colonisation approach. I wonder what Kogami's thoughts will be when he comes to realise that his "democratisation" in Siam Reap (Psycho Pass Movie) was just a part of Sibyl's grand plan. Also Kona Island? Didn't Rutaganda and his mercenaries live on an island? The knowledge that Sibyl would let the world suffer, after having seen the true effects of it in his journey abroad and that probably every person he met or lost on his journey (including the people that Tenzing lost) was suffering due to Sibyl's duplicity. In Case 3 Novel, Frederica is investigating the Peacebreakers in Tibet-Himalaya and Garcia by extension. Honestly, Kogami Shinya seeing the horrors of war, trying to help people and then returning to become a cog in the System is a tragic enough ending for me. I guess this was the meaning of that painting in that room. (The Abyss, I assume?)

Anyhow, I'm on my fourth rewatch (first time with subs so thank god I can follow the dialogues), and Sibyl has a knack of grinding my gears (pun intended), I've come to despise the System as much as Kogami. I'll delve into a proper review later, for now just accept my ramblings. I have 10,000 thoughts on Akane too, who in this movie punched me right in the heart, honestly I don't know how Akane-chan is so strong. I admire her grit.

[fromtenthousandfeet]

What is it gonna take for HYBE to give Jimin the support he deserves? Will it ever even happen? Because I'm tired of feeling so miserable all the time. I even wanna delete all my socials and just find something else in my life to fixate on. I feel terrible for feeling this way because it's like I'm abandoning Jimin (even if I'll still be streaming his music). I'm tired of all of this, it's not good for my mental health at all.

All this corruption and evil simply can't keep winning like this, can it? Are we just supposed to make peace with JK being BTS' "break out star"? Really? I naïvely thought that they'd abandon their sinister plans after seeing how poorly he's been performing in comparison to the crazy amount of push they've been giving him. What the hell is going on at that company?

Anon,

I'm sharing with you this poor quality video of Michael Jackson calling out Tommy Mottola and Sony because it's worth remembering that record labels using and abusing their artists is the rule, not the exception. Not even The King of Pop was immune.

At around 3:20, MJ mentions that he "owes" the label two more songs and then he's a free agent. He says he writes about 120 songs per album, so he'll just pick two songs he's got hanging around and then he's done.

I bring this up because I suspect Jimin might be doing something similar. Having as few solo songs under Big Hit as possible is smart, because he likely won't own the rights to his own music if/when he leaves. The less they own, the better. Writing and recording two albums at once was efficient. Also, by keeping his marketing budget (ads, playlist placement, music videos, etc.) as small as possible, he'll keep more of the album sales and streaming revenue. All those expensive marketing costs are deducted from an artist's earnings, so best to keep them at a minimum if the plan is to make the most money possible. Between the writing credits, lower marketing budget, and the high profile brand ambassador deals Jimin's got, I feel like he's positioning himself to create his own company or label. This is my hope even if I have zero proof.

The way FACE went down really bothered me. I knew the company was behind Jimin's sabotage immediately and it drove me crazy that it took so long for others to catch up. But look at the response to MUSE. Jimin really does have an army of dedicated fans who are calling out the company's (intentional) incompetence 24/7. In reality, it's fun to watch PJMs catch the company and create a stink. It's almost like a game. Don't take it too seriously. Plus, in the long run, who cares about charts? The quality of the music itself is far more important.

Once again I've droned on way too long, but hear me out. I think HYBE/BH is investing so heavily in JK because they have to. BTS isn't going to last forever, and if Jimin leaves, they've lost a huge revenue source. But please trust me when I say they have an uphill battle before them because JK doesn't currently have the artistry or charisma to enthrall the west the way Jimin does. Don't expect them to abandon ship anytime soon, though. And if he does make it big, so be it.

I really wish BTS fans, or at least PJMs, didn't feel so much hate for Min Hee Jin because there's a lot to learn about Bang Si-hyuk and HYBE when you follow the whole ADOR saga. There are some astute NewJeans fans out there who've sized up Bang PD so well and their observations help explain Jimin's treatment by the company. He breaks people down (the idols, staff, and fans) using the "death by a thousand cuts" method. Endless small transgressions and slights, that individually appear like no big deal and are therefore not taken seriously by the media or fans, but collectively are detrimental to careers and one's mental health.

You know what? If Jimin announced he's leaving the music industry after military service, I would say congratulations and thank you for all the amazing music and performances during your BTS and solo career. Have a wonderful life! While I don't think he'll do that, it's worth remembering that none of this is all that serious. Enjoy his music. Take a break from social media, because in the real world nobody cares about this stuff.

Anon, did you make to the end of this long post? Way to use the umlaut on naïvely!

[kitasgloves]

"Medicine"

tracklist

— ♬ "And how can I refuse? Yeah, you rid me of the blues"

— ♬ Semi x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, friends to lovers, musician! Semi, sickfic, no beta

In a cloudy-eyed world, Semi Eita searches for clarity. He's searching for something to bring fresh oxygen back to his lungs, something to make him feel alive, just something that will get rid of this sickness he has of heartbreak. Romance wasn't always a winning game for Semi having experienced heartbreak for most of his life. He has felt it in various ways but it often ended up with him feeling tethered and torn or permanently stuck in an endless cycle of having a sick day. He couldn't get up and remain in bed with the desire to rot. With no energy, no motivation, or inspiration. Semi couldn't feel his limbs as he exposed himself to self-sabotage.

And then you ripped the air out of his lungs while giving it back. It scared Semi in the beginning because the truth was he always fell quickly and hard. He's afraid that you won't catch him or you'll leave him hanging, possibly also scarred and in a worse state than before. However, you proved him wrong. God, he always wanted you to prove him wrong. That you wouldn't do any of that to him. To see you in a crowd whenever he sang with his band, to feel your eyes focus on him whenever he played his guitar, to smell your perfume when you sat next to him after the show, to hear your laugh every time he said something funny, and to taste what it feels like to be alive beside you. Semi craved it all.

Your first encounter with him was at your friend's birthday party, he was invited with his band to perform and you just happened to be brave enough to strike up a conversation. You told him nice things, innocent compliments about his talent in music and his taste in fashion that he secretly takes seriously. You came across as sincere that it was hard for Semi to turn you down when you asked for his number.

"I'll see ya around, Semi"

"...You too, [Name]"

The two of you exchanged text messages and occasionally had phone calls until the dead of night. It was so easy for him to connect with you, he's convinced that his soul fits well with yours. But you felt so close yet so far. Semi knows it's inevitable not to fall for you, not when you look at him with those glimmering eyes. It was hard not to look back at you as if you held the keys to the universe's secrets. However, Semi was too caught up in his last heartbreak to shoot his shot, he didn't want to rush into things knowing he was not prepared yet. And in tandem with this, he needed to leave.

"Why are you leaving?"

You pouted at him on your front porch drinking cola during the summer heat. Semi explained that he and his band wanted to sign a record label overseas in hopes it would boost their career as a band. You hummed in understatement, Semi was forever grateful for how understanding you were.

"I might...I might never come back"

"Oh. You want to live there?"

"I wanted to give it a try"

There was silence as Semi wondered if he was doing the right thing. You sip on your drink and watch the children play across the street. Semi finds it hard to say bye, even in the state of him and you. If you ever ask him to not go, how can he refuse? You rid him of the blues, ever since you came into his life.

"When are you leaving?"

"A week from now"

"Well in the case..."

You finished your cola with one gulp and grinned at him. Semi could never know what's going on in that pretty head of yours, but he knows he'll do anything you ask.

"Let's make the most of this week, right Eita?"

It sounded like a promise and Semi was willing to hang on to it. His following week became eventful with you dragging him wherever you went. From hiking to stargazing, from road trips to sleepovers, from concerts to picnics, you never gave him a rest and he enjoyed it. All because he got to spend his remaining days with you here before he leaves. Tonight, the two of you went bowling and now Semi is teaching you how to play guitar in his room.

"Now, just move your finger up a bit...there! You got it!"

"Just watch, Eita. I'll get better than you! I'm coming for your career!"

You joked and playfully strummed his guitar. Semi couldn't help it when he reached forward to fix your hair out of your eyes. You went still, gazing at him as if awestruck and he could already feel his face heating up. He clears his throat.

"Let's clean up and get to bed, I'm feeling kinda tired"

Both of you brushed your teeth and changed into your sleeping clothes. Semi took the futon while you occupied his bed, something you two argued days ago for almost an hour before ultimately deciding through rock-paper-scissors. As he closed his eyes that evening, he smiled, believing that this was the happiest moment in his life.

That morning, Semi wakes up feeling groggy and his body heavy. He groans when his head begins to spin, and he feels nauseous too. He sees your face looking down at him with concern in your features.

"Are you okay, Eita?"

"I feel...hot"

"Damn, I think you got a fever"

You say when you brought your hand against his forehead, he huffs. You walk away to fetch a damp towel to place against his forehead. You help him get comfortable as you drape a blanket over his shivering figure.

"Rest up. I'm gonna make you some soup and get you some medicine"

"Thanks"

You smile at him and patted his shoulder. Semi can feel his heart swell at how caring you were. He felt a bit guilty because it was his last day with you before he leaves tomorrow, he wanted to spend today outside doing god knows what, not having you take care of him. He hopes he gets well before his flight tomorrow. But as you return with homemade soup and medicine for his fever, Semi thinks he'll have a speedy recovery.

Hours later Semi can feel his head spinning and growing hazy. Damn, this was one hell of a fever. But you made sure you were within his reach when he needed anything. God, his heart never felt so full, he couldn't name anyone else who was willing to take care of him when he got sick. As you go over to check on him again and bring him lunch, Semi loses his self-control.

"I...I wanna marry you"

You freeze when you unpack his food, your head whips towards Semi when he blurts those words out. He looks at you, softly. You gulped as you waited for a punchline or some excuse, when the silence was prolonged, you began to panic.

"What did you say, Eita?"

"Said I...I adore you"

That was not what he said but he made you feel the same thing. Your heart skipped beats, you were crossing your fingers hoping he'd take it back. Or not. But Semi doesn't crack a smile and keeps looking at you like he's never gonna let you go. Semi knows it's too late, he could explain that it was his fever talking. Yet after seeing your reaction, he refrains from elaborating further. Semi finds it sad that's all he has to say and bye-bye, once he leaves the country. You opiate his hazy mind that he becomes impulsive.

"Eita?"

"...Yeah?"

"You know, I like you, right?"

"Of course"

"I like you more than that"

"Oh"

"More than friends"

"Oh"

You looked precious all flustered and timid that he wanted to hold you forever. This could all be a fever dream, but Semi was proven otherwise when you inch closer to him to intertwine your fingers with him. His heart jumps, unable to believe his eyes. He sharply inhales.

"[Name]..."

"I want to be yours, Eita"

"But I'm leaving-"

"I don't care. I love you and I want to make this work"

If he wasn't sick right now, Semi would've picked you up in his arms and spun you around. But what you said made him regain some strength to lean forward and kiss your cheek. You let out an adorable giggle that makes his internal organs feel like mush.

"Shit, I probably shouldn't have kissed you. You might catch a fever too"

"It's fine, I don't mind. Just rest up so you'll be well before you leave tomorrow"

"You're serious about what you said?"

"Of course, ya dingus!"

"Man, I think I feel better already"

"So, my confession got rid of your fever?"

"No, it's you, my darling. Because you're my medicine"

Your face goes entirely red and he chuckles. Call him crazy but he thinks he doesn't want to leave tomorrow, maybe he should just call off everything so he could stay here with you. After all, Semi didn't want to be apart from you, his medicine.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[snifflesthemouse]

Were the labels a nonviolent protest from workers? Maybe a sabotage?

Meghan Markle is a con. I used to be just like her. Some call it conning, some call it opportunism. Some call opportunists cons, even.

Let me tell you this was her first put-out to "influencers". She tried to make it limited, so as to increase demand. But that label says it all.

She wanted to insinuate you'd be getting a jar with HER handwriting. Like SHE made the jam and canned that Smuckers herself. But we KNOW SHE DID NOT. Just like the BANANA BREAD in Australia...

We know her by now because she has showed us.

I suspect that she treated her canners and supply chain as she did her Royal family staff. This label really suggests it. It almost seems as a little jab by a worker in a way. Like a "see, she didn't do this. And she is a con."

Of course the label can be removed easily like that for sustainability (uh... guess what? Any jar can be washed out and the label be scrubbed off to reuse; that doesn't mean the Welch's company leaves the label hanging off like that).

Of course they will say "Oh, stop. She made all 50 herself! She did everything, the labels even! She is human, oh well."

But something tells me with that track record... it wasn't a cheap label. Could it be a nonviolent protest from her employees? Or is it just cheap glue?

This was her first test run. She's not humble enough to own anything... so I couldn't imagine her letting that leave like that.

Maybe someone peeled it off once they got it? Maybe not? What do you think?

[halevren]

FHJY Spoilers || my live thoughts as I watch episode 6

I had to pause Taskmaster NZ for this. Did you guys know that the episodes are on YouTube for FREE?!?!?!?!!?!!

Love the intro as usual, Sarah Barrios goes so hard

HELLO ONE AND ALL!!!!!!!

Hiii intrepid heroes!

AYDA AGUEFORT PLEASE COME BACK I MISS YOU

I wonder if adaine will get a new job this episode

rest in peace Conor Counterspell

I forgot how much happened last episode

"Buttered to perfection"

IT'S ALWAYS HAPPY HOUR AT APPLEBEE'S

RAGHHHHHHHHH

SHE OWES OODLE OF STOODLE?!!??!? SHE LOST HER JOB AND SHE HAS TO PAY THEM?

MILK WITH VODKA...??

"I don't do this to you" I can tell this will be a giggly episode

OH NO. OH NO. THE HELIO RAT GRINDER CLERIC. OH NO

"It's filled with water!"

SPIKED MILK

"Who's a bad baby?" FABIAN I LOVE YOU

CAN YOU FILL THIS RED SOLO CUP WITH BAD BABY MILK

"I'm self sabotaging" I feel you Kristen. I feel you.

"I know in my heart that in his final moments he must have repented and gone—" "No.... No..."

"You should go to hell sometime"

ANOTHER SHRIMP JUMP

HELL HOUND FORM ART OH MY GOD LOOK AT HANGMAN!!!!!

"Smells good"

"Whatever you didn't like about your old self, you feel like, oh, it's present in this kid who is also drinking water out of a beer can." Brennan why must you be so good at pulling heartstrings

Double Kristen 🔥🔥

MOLMAN HOLDEN

SOIL CLUB

AVIATION CLUB

We got like 18 votes 🔥🔥

With disadvantage? oh no.

omg ivy has the same accent as garthy

"Your family is from Fallinel" her mom is gone and she killed her they can't help pay for the diamond

"Hot dragonborn is about to know your shit"

oh adaine... I understand you so well

Adaine and Fabian duo is so under appreciated I need more of them

"Everyone can suck a nut, fuck off"

There is so much sexual tension between Gorgug and Ragh rn

"If you push me too hard, I'm going to shit"

CARBO LOAD ON MILK?

"I think I ate some glass— there was vodka in it???" Oh Ragh my beloved....

Riz rambling is so real

Oh Ragh I love you, you're trying so hard to help I love you you are perfect

LYDIA'S MESSAGE BACK I LOVE HER

CRUSTACEAN NATION

ohhhh Fabian.....

The High 5 Heroes...

OISIN AND IVY... ARE THEY PART OF THE RAT GRINDERS????

"It's not the library, you can't rip the pages out!"

This is a very duo episode. Fig / Kristen, Fabian / Adaine, Gorgug / Riz

I'm starting to think Kristen is trying to be the president of the steelworker union at this rate

FETTY WAP AT HOMECOMING

"I'm gonna be kick flipping the system"

Fantasy High Senior Year main objective is going to be getting Fetty Wap to homecoming

"It's gonna be weird to not be you. I feel home here."

ohhh Emily what are you strategizing rn

oh no.. I think Ivy noticed her change

Fabian is struggling rn

ADAINE, PARTY WIZARD!!!!!!

"I can impersonate the dead when I want"

So much destruction of Fabian's property this episode

ivy isn't very nice. don't go for our girl mazey

THE ICE MUFFETS

oh is Brennan about to make Fabian choose between Ivy and Mazey? I swear to GOD

oh no..... Fabian.....

Mazey being straight laced (?) But still being the absolute life of the party is so good

"(Murph Sobs)"

Fuck the record labels

"Just trying to decide if I want to be bard any more..." OH?

Rough day for Fabian. So rough.

Murph rollin' better.

At least none of them actually did drugs. Just. The bad baby milk. What is the drinking age of Spyre? I don't know

Bad Kids Apicology Arc

OHHHH I LOVE GERTIE THAT'S SO CUTE THE BEE

oh no Fabian vs Gertie

actually it's more like Fabian vs everyone

NEW NEMESIS DETECTED???? OH MY GOD

Riz panic is so real, them getting kicked out of school would be awful

Tracker and Kristen call...........

oh no....

"I'm gonna be President, bitch."

I relate to Kristen too much, this is painful for me to listen to because it's too real

"Maybe she had a shrimp allergy, you don't fuckin' know"

"I hope your new partner is really fucking hot." Oh Kristen

"Riz you're the only one who is honest with me"

OH THE POTENTIAL OVERLAP........

"Tough but fair. Have a great life" KRISTEN.....

Drunk texting Aelwyn.

I MISS AYDA.

Murph is going full investigator rn

The egg slurry

"Fuck!"

I was NOT expecting Fig to be the one to do a full class switch but honestly it's understandable

"We're having to destroy ourselves to pass these classes." As someone who was severely depressed in high school, I resonate with that statement a little too much.

I want to go to a Lydia lunch

"So what's up" Kristen's god is dead.

"took an orb to the chest"

Oh Lydia.... I want to hug her so tightly.

"God baby hospital"

Now I'm hungry for chicken parm

downtime

STRESS TOKENS?????

looks like next episode is dice rolling

[council-of-beetroot]

I had a dream I published this without making it anonymous lmao

I like ameliet only if it's done well. In my own family, people like my great great grandmother came to America at the age of 16 alone so I have that connection to the eastern European immigrant experience that Tolys has.

Seeing my last post this is hypocritical but it's not like I care that much because I read anything and will still enjoy it.

Common things I see in ameliet that I dislike

Alfred being interested in Tolys' culture

Especially during this era, assimilation was expected of any immigrants at the time. I don't see Alfred learning Lithuanian or learning Lithuanian cooking or whatever because all that was seen as something you left at the docks the moment you stepped foot in America as an immigrant during those times

The 1920s itself

I know it's canon but I personally in my fics have the outsourcing somewhere between 1890-1915. This is because in 1921 the us restricted immigration based on race and ethnicity so that the only people that could really move to America were Canadians or Western Europe such as the UK or Sweden. But I won't complain since it is canon.

Alfred as Tolys' saviour

I think this is just one annoys me because America has very little to do with say things like Lithuanian independence and the like. Also the way I see it depicted often renders Lithuania completely powerless and unable to lift himself up.

Now onto the other thoughts

I want to see more in outsourcing fics someone calling Tolys polish or Russian as at the time you could be labelled on papers as Russian despite not being ethnically Russian because your country was a part of Russia. For example my Great Great Grandfather's records are listed in the Russians to America files.

if it's the 1920s even better because you can have someone calling Tolys a Pollack and he gets pissed off, but not because it was meant as an insult but because how dare they mistake him for ugh a pole. 1920s is like the worst points for Tolys and Lithuania.

More red scare stuff too please

Tolys confronting the difference between his own experiences living with Alfred and his countrymen who are living in America working backbreaking jobs in poverty with little support. Yeah my great great grandfather ignacy for example was a miner upon immigrating to America. The work was literally back breaking in his case and he fractured his dorsal vertibrae which is incredibly painful but he managed to live with it for nearly 18 years until he got septicemia and died at 52. American dream amiright? There were instances where immigrants who tried to unionize were met with violence. I just think it would be interesting to see tolys grapple with this as he knows what it is like to work in a hostile environment.

Cold war era for example, I think Tolys would also have to grapple with the fact that he has romanticized America like literally as such a great place and Alfred is so much better than Ivan. So then when say Alfred does equally dumb stuff Liet finds it hard to take in.

1992 Barcelona Olympics these two and basketball. Read my basketball fic okay

Tolys thinking that certain things are normal American things as he doesn't realize it's literally something only Alfred does

The Feliks and The Baltics thinking Liet is an Expert about america but his knowledge no longer useful as it's been how many years. Same with slang

Tolys sabotaging his own relationship with Alfred because he thinks Alfred will manipulate him or end up hurting him like past relationships.

Tolys realizing Alfred's naïvete like omfg this is so good. Also Alfred turning to Tolys as almost a mentor or source of advice because Alfred on a nation scale is quite young

Also Alfred not grasping the reality of his actions because he has never been in a place where he has lost that power or been at the mercy of others while powerless. But Tolys is like wait a minute

Tolys having known both Alfred and Ivan and seeing what makes them different and quite similar

The awkwardness of moving in with someone you don't know well

Here is my fic that has ameliet as the backdrop of the fic

[icanseethefuture333]

Hiiii, What’s stopping normani from taking over the music industry? Not sure if you’ve done a question like this.. 💛

A career reading on Normani

What's stopping Normani's success in the music industry is her choice in working with the wrong people. She keeps making connections or collaborating with people who are overall sabotaging her success. Normani's romantic feelings was in conflict with her work as well (I believe this is related to her collaboration with Chris Brown, who she previously stated she had a crush on). I believe Normani had high hopes of fame and status because of this collab and it was not received well. Normani hurt her fanbase - whom see her as family or could resemble her, and saw it as a stab in the back. Normani was mutually upset by this and felt bad for disappointing her fans, which has led her to retreat from the music industry and social media itself (going under the radar). Normani realized her decision was immature and should of focused on her current's self success instead of fulfilling a childhood dream/wish.

Is it possible for Normani to be in the spotlight again?

I do believe she has a chance in being the music industry again! Normani will come out of a period of isolation and reflection and will have a new image for herself. She will be more refined in her artistry and could feel more confident in herself as a artist and also a woman. Normani could turn to a friend or ask someone who's musically similar to her for a collab. I believe the song could be a love song, she most likely will not be a feature, but this person will feature on her song. "I'm tired of begging for hand outs. I have to make this happen on my own." She could also sign with a new record label? They will meet her halfway and could do a better job at promoting her new single. I'm not seeing extreme fame and attention for her, but the income she will receive from her new song will provide comfort and security. I also see the song being a gift to her fans as a way to ask them for forgiveness. Normani could also match her words with her actions. She will stop saying she will release a album and actually will just release it for once.

[nikonladyz4]

The Sabotage of Jimin?!

Can some of the OG Armies who understand not only the fandom side of BTS but also the business side of Bighit/Hybe weigh in on the overt and covert sabotage of Jimin’s album and provide your perspective on why Jimin has not been treated fairly or at least equal to other member’s releases. I was one of the people defending the notion their was no blatant sabotage against Jimin last year regarding Face. But that egg was definitely thrown in my face with the fan meet set and Jimin’s new album release.

The ridiculous set they provided for Jimin’s PAID fanmeet last year was the straw that broke my back (erroneous viewpoint). The actions of this Geffen senior VP, just took the cake on how overtly they are sabotaging Jimin. If he would blatantly disrespect their artist Jimin and paying customers, what are they doing behind the scenes? Not only to Jimin, but the other members and BTS as a group?

Some of the reasons are obvious, they don’t want one of the biggest acts/artists in the world to overshadow Western artists. I mean we even had Simon Cowell recently state he needs to produce another boyband, because no one has ever come close to New Direction or their records….really man! 🤯

Is another reason Jimin’s subject matter? Which in some minds, could negatively impact BTS and their comeback next year? What I find interesting is how Taemin called out the overse*ualizstion of young artist in the industry with his last single under SM entertainment and then promptly left the label. I remember in one of Tae’s last lives he played a song by Honne that Jimin recommended to him. At first I thought why would Tae expose Jimin like that, but it was clearly by design from both of them.and the song expressed exasperation of being in/dealing with the music industry.

I would love a discussion in the comments and with detailed posts addressing this matter. What more can we do besides stream and purchase? I was not an Army when the fandom would mobilize. Unfortunately, all I see is a fractured Army since I became one (Jan 2023).

[tosin-talks]

Tosin Talks about invalidation and its effects

You know when you’re really upset about something and someone tells you that you’re being a little dramatic? Has that ever made you feel less upset? 

I’m guessing it probably made you want to actually be dramatic or it completely broke your heart. You weren’t trying to get them to completely understand your experience and deeply feel your emotions—that invalidation only created another dilemma for you to have to deal with. Now you’re questioning if you really are overreacting about the matter or you’re thinking that person’s just an asshole that is sabotaging you or you’re afraid that maybe there’s something fundamentally wrong with you…

Notice how fast we spiraled? That’s how impactful invalidation can be. Constant invalidation of our experiences dramatically influences the way that we tell our stories to others. The story is no longer “I was hurt and taken advantage of”, it’s “this is why I’m dramatic and don’t know how to handle anything”. Sometimes the invalidation begins during our formative years and from the very first people we met when we arrived in this world. 

What’s that label that your family gave to you that you just can’t seem to get over? Crybaby, loser, weirdo, “the fat one”, “my problem child”, “the mean one”, “the one I don’t talk about”, etc. The creation of that label significantly changed how they talk to you, speak about you to others, treat you, and perceive you. Most importantly, it changed the way that you see yourself. Now you hold back tears because you don’t want the crybaby label to stick or you hold your tongue while they say things that disrespect you because you want to get rid of the mean label. The invalidation continues when you bring up the past to them and it seems like the only person that remembers the story even vaguely is you. Then you really start believing those messages that were said about you.

Did the invalidation actually make you stop feeling sadness, out of place, alone, unheard, misunderstood, frustrated, or whatever the original emotion was? 

When I was a young child enduring trauma, I wanted to tell someone about it but when I did, I was met with, “you talk too much”, “you say the wildest things” or “you’re being a baby”. I was no longer just feeling sad, unloved, unwanted, confused…I became sad, unloved, unwanted, and thought I was legitimately going insane. It was no longer just a traumatic experience, what happened to me had found a way into my personality. 

Had I not just experienced something devastatingly difficult? Did that event not hurt my feelings or cause me some sort of pain? Even if it was a minor thing and from the outside looking in, I was being a little dramatic…I still felt that pain, and telling myself that I shouldn’t have, didn’t make the feeling go away. 

I often wonder how things would be if I was adequately validated when something happened. I wonder if I would be better at managing my emotional responses or overcoming challenges. Because instead of the situation intertwining with who I was, maybe I could fully feel my feelings, validate them, and possibly move onto actually solving the problem. 

Nonetheless, the past is the past and I am now responsible for doing my best to end that cycle of invalidation.

It can be difficult since we become accustomed to belittling our emotions and the emotions of others. You hear “you’re such a crybaby” for crying about losing something you really loved so often that it becomes easier to say the same thing to an actual child crying over losing their favorite blanket. It’s a skill that takes practice, I’m not always the best at it either. 

You’ll need to first become comfortable with acknowledging and identifying your feelings. I don’t know how else to explain this but you have to feel the emotions fully so that the emotions don’t consume you. If you feel sad, just feel sad and find a non-harmful way to express that even if it's bawling in bed or recording voice memos where you pour your heart out. Validate that emotion and the experience that brought it up. Now that emotion doesn’t feel as heavy as before and you might actually be able to combat the feeling with one that you’d prefer to feel.

We can’t change other people and their perception of us but we do have control over the way we speak about ourselves and our experiences. I challenge you to validate one feeling and experience that you have this week. And because I know you’re capable of doing difficult things, I additionally challenge you to validate someone else’s emotions and experience. Create more productive narratives about yourself and about those you care about.

[cosmogyros]

You know what's absolutely wild? Something I will never be able to wrap my mind around? Something that fills me with RAGE?!?

The fact that Phil Spector could see something like this – these sparkling ladies, overflowing with charisma and beauty and talent and charm – and decide to marry their lead singer and promptly forbid her from making music any more. And treat her like this (bolding is mine, to point out a few of the most egregious details):

Ronnie and Phil Spector began having an affair soon after she was signed to his label in 1963. Early in their relationship, she was unaware that he was married. Once, Ronnie was apprehended by house detectives for prostitution at the Delmonico Hotel in New York City after leaving a room they had booked. She was allowed to call Phil, who threatened the hotel, and then they allowed her to leave. After Phil divorced his wife in 1965, he purchased a home in Beverly Hills, where he lived with Ronnie. They married at Beverly Hills City Hall on April 14, 1968. Ronnie changed her surname and became known as Ronnie Spector. Their son Donté Phillip was adopted in 1969. Two years later, Phil surprised her for Christmas with adopted twins, Louis and Gary. Ronnie alleged in her 1990 memoir that following their marriage, Phil subjected her to years of psychological torment and sabotaged her career by forbidding her to perform. She said he surrounded their house with barbed wire and guard dogs, and confiscated her shoes to prevent her from leaving; on the rare occasions he allowed her out alone, she had to drive with a life-size dummy of Phil. She stated that Phil installed a gold coffin with a glass top in the basement, promising that he would kill her and display her corpse if she ever left him. She began drinking and attending Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meetings to escape the house. In 1972, Ronnie fled their mansion barefoot and without any belongings, with the help of her mother. "I knew that if I didn't leave I was going to die there," she said. In their 1974 divorce settlement, Ronnie forfeited all future record earnings, alleging that Phil had threatened to have a hit man kill her. She received $25,000, a used car, and monthly alimony of $2,500 for five years. She later testified that Phil had frequently pulled a gun on her during their marriage and threatened to kill her unless she surrendered custody of their children. She tried to rebuild her career, keeping Spector's surname professionally because "I needed any way I could to get back in, I'd been kept away so long." According to her, Phil hired lawyers to prevent her singing her popular songs and denied her royalties. In 1988, the Ronettes sued Phil for $10 million in damages, rescission of the contract, the return of the masters, and recoupment of money received from the sale of Ronettes masters. It took 10 years for the case to make it to trial. After a prolonged legal battle, the court ruled that their contract gave Phil unconditional rights to the recordings but Ronnie was entitled to her share of royalties.

[theweeklydiscourse]

And you often justify Darkling? Then what is the point of calling him a villain? Rhysand at least has better reasons.

I’m glad you’ve familiarized yourself with my writings anon! The purpose of calling the Darkling a villain is to correctly label him on the narrative’s terms. Shadow and Bone considers him a villain, so I label him accordingly because that is his role in the story. Many of my writings are critical of Bardugo’s writing and execution of certain messages and themes I believe to be problematic. I focus on the way the Darkling’s actions are characterized and the narrative contrivances that make the story more incoherent overall. My “justifications” as you put it, are inherently critical of the text.

Also, “better reasons”? I’m mean…sure I guess if we’re talking about the nobility of his (alleged) motivations, but execution of those “better reason” actually matters a bit more. Rhysand’s track record is riddled with terrible and incoherent plans that end up sabotaging his intended goals. Take his “mask” as an example, an idea that isolated both himself and his court from the other courts during a time of war and established him as an untrustworthy and villainous individual. Or how about his failure to prevent the mutilation and abuse of Illyrian women? Or coercing Feyre into a contract for his personal benefit? And after all of this… the readers are still expected to see him as a noble hero.

The Darkling isn’t like that, when he does bad stuff the narrative acknowledges it and it becomes part of his villainous characterization. But when Rhysand does bad stuff, either it’s immediately justified or retconned.