#she had many contractions hence why we’re here

[zorostitties]

AYO YOUR SISTER IS PREGNANT?? congrats to her and i hope everything goes well with the delivery!! xoxo rachel anon

she is 😭 but my lil niece is in a hurry lol she’s still 7 months pregnant and this girl already wants to come out 🤨🤨 everything is under control tho so no worries!!!! thank you!!!

[delfiore]

impressions from another time

pairing: florence pugh x reader

synopsis: you and florence start filming a movie together whilst going through a rough patch in your relationship.

a/n: i was sleep-deprived writing most of this.

warnings: y/n being frustratingly bad at communicating.

word count: 4.0k

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You walked through door, and shut it behind you. Your eyes were glued to your phone, reading an article about some politician coming under fire for saying the wrong thing. The living room was alight when you came in, which you were surprised about. The TV was on too. Florence didn’t make the effort to look at you when you walked past to get to the kitchen.

“How was dinner?”

“It was fine.” You answered, opening the fridge and looking through it halfheartedly.

You hated that you didn’t know what else to say next. You used to be able to have conversations for hours; two glasses of wine on a winter night, you and Florence talked until morning, and that was way before you started actually going out.

You heard the soft tapping of her fingernails on glass, as if she wanted to say something too, but couldn’t.

“You shouldn’t be drinking so late.” You commented, plopping a grape in your mouth and cupping some more in your left hand before shutting the fridge. “You know your stomach always gets weird after alcohol at night. We have an early flight tomorrow.”

You headed for the bedroom, but she spoke first. “You know you can still pull out.”

Letting out an exhausted breath, you stopped in the middle of the stairs. You didn’t have the energy to fight with her today. “Don’t stay up too late,” you only said, and left her there in the living room.

You had signed the contract months prior agreeing to appear in the movie. The original actor intended for Florence’s role couldn’t make it due to scheduling conflicts, so they made her get on board. At first you were ecstatic, getting to work with your longtime girlfriend, but you didn’t know when the relationship soured. All you knew was there had been way too many fights, and something has wedged itself between your bodies and your spirits.

You helped Florence bring her essentials into her trailer, all the while signing off any paperwork before the first day with a production assistant.

“I’ll have some of my stuff dropped back off in the apartment tomorrow. I’m probably not gonna need most of it anyway.” She said, after having loaded the bathroom with her things.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just put my stuff in my trailer.” You said.

Protocol said that you would each get your own trailer, as the other actors did, but people didn’t actually expect you both to use your own. Most people on the crew knew of your relationship, hence why yours was right next to hers.

“Right,” Flo nodded pointedly.

You recognized her attitude, but you really didn’t want to fight, so you ignored it and left her trailer.

That evening you headed out, and took time to walk around town. Dubrovnik by night quickly became one of your favorite places to be. In another life, if you worked as art connoisseur you’d definitely live here, you think. You told Florence you wouldn’t coming back for dinner, and you didn’t miss the disappointment on her face. It was something you learned to deal with, or else you wouldn’t have survived this long.

Settling into an outdoor table at a restaurant in the town square, you asked for the kitchen’s most popular dish once you’ve caught a waiter walking by. Halfway through the meal, you pulled your phone out to see if you’ve had any messages. There were only a couple of work emails and texts from your friends back home checking in. None from Flo, though.

“Sorry?” You looked up and saw a couple of young women smiling eagerly down at you. “Are you Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yeah.” You mustered your best smile.

“We’re really big fans of yours. Can we take a picture with you?”

You had hoped to not be disturbed this evening, but to preserve your public image you stood up and smiled as one of the girls pointed her phone camera at all of you.

“And um . . .” she started fishing in her bag, “is it okay if you give this to Florence?”

“Yeah, no problem. Have a good night, ladies.” With giggles behind their hands, they scuttled away.

It was a greeting-card sized booklet with Florence’s character from Black Widow hand-drawn on one side, and a letter addressed to her on the other. You studied the drawing for a bit, then put it away and finished your meal.

When you got back to your shared apartment, the lights were all off. Flo was laying in bed when you peaked in. You quietly placed the card on her nightstand and went to the bathroom to shower. Slipping into bed quietly so as not to wake Flo, you watched her for a moment, her back facing you, her shoulder rising and falling with every breathe of sleep she took.

Suddenly her smell overtook your senses, and you instantly felt at ease. Somehow you thought that as long as she was with you, it was going to be okay. You were Florence and Y/N, you would work it out one way or another.

Gently wrapping your arm around her, you placed a small kiss on her cheek and retracted to your side of the bed.

Staring at the card you had placed in front of her, Florence was squeezing her eyes shut to stop the tears, as she listened to your breathing even out.

Until then, Florence was ready to ignore that there was something wrong with your relationship. All great couples go through stuff, and they are great because they fix it together. She’s seen it in her own parents and they were the sole reason she believed in true love. She thought she had found it with you.

Until she saw you mingling with one of your new castmates. She felt jealousy building in the pit of her stomach, watching you laugh and converse the way that she wished you would with her.

Florence had met Hoyeon before during rehearsals. Her smiley and amiable nature made her sure that they would get along well, and maybe even form a friendship outside of work. So Flo couldn’t just start hating Hoyeon now that she’s unknowingly put herself between her and you.

She pulled out her phone, staring at the message she wrote but didn’t send to you.

Good luck today!! 💕

Florence deleted the text and headed into the hair-and-makeup trailer.

It became worse the longer the shoot went on. She felt like with every passing day it was getting harder to talk to you, as every time she did you would only answer with a word or two.

She never let this deter her from work, though. She felt like letting it show would be letting you get the last laugh, and until she figured out when the hell it all went wrong, it was not going to happen.

“‘S so nice to have another Brit on-set. In a sea of coffee drinkers, I don’t feel so alone drinking my tea.”

“It’s amazing how a cup of tea can make you feel so patriotic.” She laughed, watching her colleague settle down in the chair next to her.

Sam laughed and sipped from his mug. From where she sat, she could see the tea wetting his mustache and deflating slightly when he pulled it away.

“It’s crazy that it’s taken me this long to do a film with you.” He told her. “It felt like forever ago when we came in to read for Lady Macbeth. I was so hoping that you got the part, and then you did.”

“I’m pretty sure Will Oldroyd tore his hair out trying to decide for the Sebastian part. There were definitely several mental breakdowns.” She turned towards him in her chair, holding your gaze for a split second as you followed the director out from set.

“I adored that project. I was gutted, but it turned out great so no complaints from me there.”

Sam Claflin was a charming man. There were times when Flo had thought back to him after the Lady Macbeth chemistry read. He was married then, but she found herself slightly disappointed when he wasn’t chosen opposite her for the film in the end. The actor circle was small enough, even more so among British actors. She knew Aaron T-J. who knew Richard M. who knew Lily J. who knew Sam.

“But here we are again,” she said.

“So we are,” he flashed a smile at her. “Hey, some of us are gonna go to the pub down the street this weekend. You should come, bring Y/N too while you’re at it.”

“Yeah,” Flo nodded, her smile less now. “I think that’d be good for us.”

You were home by the time that she was. You were on the couch watching a movie, and gave her a small nod with your head turned to her.

“You’re not in bed.” To her surprise.

“Just wanted to wait for you.”

Flo didn’t say a word after that, then set her things aside to go wash up.

She showered, brushed her teeth, them began her nightly skincare routine. In the reflection, she spotted you sauntering into the bathroom, coming up behind her. Wordlessly, you proceeded to place small kisses on her shoulder where her skin wasn’t covered by her tank top.

Letting out a low sigh, she let you continue to trail kisses along her neck, up her jaw, whilst your hands coaxed her waist eagerly. You swiftly turned her around, finding her lips.

Short gasps and throaty moans filled the room as you continued making out, the physical contact dearly missed by Florence. She wanted to pretend like everything was okay, and it would be so much easier to let you carry her to the bed and fuck her like she’s been wanting for a while, but she couldn’t.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked.

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t touched me in ages.” Flo said breathlessly, feeling your kisses on her neck stop. “What’s all this for?”

You sighed, and let her go. Only then did she notice her heavy breaths, and her heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you not want to do this?” You asked. “We don’t have to.”

“I’m just tired today, that’s all.” Florence lied, partially. She just didn’t have the energy to do this today.

“Okay,” you said quietly, and put some toothpaste on your brush.

“Sam invited us to go down to the pub on Saturday. You wanna go?”

She didn’t miss the slight flare of your nose at the mention of Sam. “Yeah, sure.”

Flo went to bed, feeling a headache already brewing.

On the day, you came up with some half-assed excuse to not go. You couldn’t stand seeing Sam Claflin blatantly flirting with your girlfriend, just the thought of it made your stomach churn.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

There was a difficult scene coming up, one that would certainly attract attention from critics and make Florence shine during award season.

“Morning, Pam.” You entered the makeup trailer.

“Look who showed up, huh?” You giggled, and kissed the old woman on the cheek.

“Traffic.” You smirked, sipping on your coffee.

“Oh, please. Like I haven’t heard that excuse a million times before. It’s you putting that caffeinated stuff in your body every single time I see you. Sit down.” She teased, gesturing you towards the chair.

“You sound like my mother, Pam.” You said, making her roll her eyes. “Hey, where’s Flo?”

“Flo? She had to go to rehearsals early, for that big scene, remember? She didn’t tell you?”

When you woke up this morning, the other side of the bed was empty. You knew that about the scene, of course, just not that she’d be leaving early. There might have been a last-minute notice that you didn’t know about, Flo didn’t tell you.

“I guess not.”

When you were finished with makeup, you were told you had a few hours until your scene would be shot. You’d have some time to rest, but you soon left the makeup trailer and headed to where you knew Flo’s scene would be shot.

You stood on the side watching Flo hit her mark, as the director got behind the camera. There was a hint of nervousness on her face as she breathed in and out that you normally didn’t see. But you didn’t fret because this was Flo—Florence Pugh—and acting was like second nature to her.

A few steps away, there he was—Sam—standing on his own cue, getting ready for the scene.

“And . . . action!”

“You know everyone told me this would past, that I’d move past this—“

“Hey, let’s do that with some more emotions, yeah? Feel the grief, Florence.”

“O-Okay.” She was surprised at his remark, yet she was quick to shake it off with a few sobering blinks. Her eyes caught yours for a split second as she scanned the set.

You could see Sam’s mouth moving, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Action!”

“You know everyone told me this would past, that I’d move past this.” She looked more grim than the last take, eyes far in the distance.

No matter how long you’ve known Flo, how many times you watch her work, you’d never get tired of seeing her act. It was as if acting was her life force, and she always gave her all and more into every take. You were sure someone like her would go down as one of the industry’s best one day, and here you were getting to witness it first-hand, and to see the person she was behind the camera too.

“Cut!” The director, Julian pulled off his headset in frustration. “I need more, Florence! More! Come on, I know you can do it!”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ve just been—“ You watched her through the monitor. “Let me do it again.”

Her chest was rising and falling heavily, so much so that you were afraid she might run out of breath. She started her monologue.

“You know everyone told me this would past, that I’d move past this. But how can I? How can I when he’s still out there? My precious baby boy. The police can think he ran away all he wants, but I know Liam. I know he would never, ever run away like that. Something happened to him, I know it! Something awful’s happened to my baby, and I can’t fucking do anything about it! How am I supposed to move past this when my only son is missing?!”

“Cut!” Julian yelled. “Brilliant! Brilliant, Florence!”

Despite your current situation with her, you could only smile watching her sweep the entire crew off their feet with her performance. The emotions hung so heavily on each word that made you almost believe she had lived through the torment of losing a child.

The take had been called, yet the tears never stopped, and her sobs never ceased. She was kneeling on the floor, holding her chest as her cries choked back painfully. She was crying and crying without cessation. She couldn’t stop.

“What happened?” You heard the director murmured to his assistant, and she only shrugged, puzzled.

The set was dead-silent, yet no one came by Flo’s aid, as she curled in on herself, still sobbing. Sam was dumbfounded too, and hovered over her like a powerless spring toy.

For a split second, Julian caught your eyes, just before you had taken off running to where she was. You quickly knelt on the floor, and brought her to your chest.

Her face buried itself in your neck, as her arms came to wrap around your torso. You had asked the director for a break to which he hesitated, but ultimately agreed, because he knew too—Florence was in no shape to work for the rest of the day.

“I’m here, love.” You brought her to her feet. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

By the time you got to her trailer, only quiet sniffle remained as a result of her uncontrollable breakdown minutes before. You guided her towards the couch at the back of the trailer, and kneeled in front of her.

“Take deep breaths for me, okay?” You said, standing up to fetch the half-drunk water bottle on the table.

You opened the bottle and handed it to her, when she swatted your hand away with a frustrated click of the tongue.

“What are you doing?” She shook her head, eyeing you. “It’s been weeks since we last had a real conversation, and now you pretend like you care.”

“No, don’t start.” You stood up, wanting nothing more than to be done with this conversation.

“When, then?” She held you back by your arm. “When we’ve already broken up, you move out, and spend your time bed-hopping or whatever it is that you’ve been doing away from me?”

“That’s not fair,” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowed, “no, you can’t talk.”

“This was a mistake. I knew I shouldn’t have done this movie with you. I knew it would cause tension or amplify whatever the fuck has been going on between us.” Her voice cracked. “So what the fuck is going on between us, Y/N, because I cannot stand another day of this.”

You had been gritting your teeth this entire time, wanting nothing to do with this anymore, because the truth was you’ve been avoiding the elephant in the room ever since you first felt it. This rift between you two, like you were both standing on pieces of ice, drifting further away from each other. And like standing on ice in the Arctic, it was cold, disorienting, and isolating.

“I don’t know.” You said simply.

Flo scoffed quietly.

“Y/N, do you still want to be with me?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks hard. The truth was you didn’t quite know.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You let yourself have one finally meal in Croatia before you had to leave. It was a Wednesday afternoon, even for this time of year it was most quiet downtown. A short walk down the square you would reach the restaurant that you dined at the first time you explored the city. Flo had flown back to LA days before, as soon as filming wrapped. You thought it must have been her trying to get away from you as quickly as possible. The conversation was left on-hold after that day, and neither of you spoke about it, or to each other for that matter other than for work.

Just before you sat down, you spotted the director with a meal of his own, sunglasses on and a cigarette in hand.

“Y/N! Come, join me!” He called before you could turn the other way.

“Hey, Julian.” You smiled. He offered you to take from his pack, but you refused.

“Have you seen much of the city while we’ve been here?“ You felt like a little kid having to sit by its guardian so as not to cause a disturbance.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I ate here the first day I came, actually.”

“Good, good. To travel is to open your mind to adventure. And for artists, that is important.” Julian took a drag, the blunt shining red at the tip. “You’re a great artist, Y/N. Your generation needs more people like you. Florence, too. I’m glad you two found each other.”

Across the square, the busker playing the trumpet had finished a song, and everybody around began to clap and drop money into the hat he put in front of himself.

“I think Flo’s better than me,” you said.

You didn’t look up, but from the corner of your eyes you could see him study you for a moment.

“There’s poise in you, Y/N. A tight-lipped coldness that made you perfect for this role. Now, I don’t know how it serves you in your day-to-day life, but that’s what makes you a great artist.”

It was easy to blame all of your problems on a single character flaw, to pretend that it’s a rotten part of you that couldn’t be fixed and people would just have to accept that part of you, because that was just who you are. But you saw how the rotten part of you—the one that Julian so highly praises—was poisoning your relationship, it was poisoning her.

“Where is Florence, Y/N?”

“She flew back home a couple of days ago.” You fumbled with your fingers.

“Listen,” Julian sat up. “Can I give you a word of guidance?” You nodded. “Sometimes we find ourselves at crossroads from which our lives would change forever once we’ve crossed them. Regret is a vicious predator, Y/N. It sneaks up on you like a ghost, when you’re eating, when you’re out running errands, when you’re making love. Once it’s got you, it sinks its teeth in and you’ll feel the pain soaking in slowly, agonizingly so. I’m proud to have done this film with you, Y/N, I really am. I just hope it wouldn’t be the end of another beautiful thing in your life.”

Your lower lip trembled, feeling Julian put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You feared the animal had already sunken its teeth into you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Your muscles ached from immobility, having sat on a plane for 14 hours. The sun had just risen by the time you were at your front door.

Billie was the only one to greet you with a wagging tail when you were inside.

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, scratching the spot at the back of her head that the dog so loved.

Wheeling your suitcases further inside, you left them in the living room before ascending the stairs.

You had had your thoughts written down in an unwinding Notes page, something you did on the plane. But when you saw her resting figure on the bed, tightly curled under the sheets, the words died in your throat.

You felt it again as you slowly sat at the edge of the bed, that warm feeling spreading all over your body whenever you see her, the urge to reach out and touch her. But you were afraid she would be maimed by your poison.

“Hey, you’re back.” She rubbed her eyes, sitting up.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” You said.

“It’s okay.” Flo shook her head softly, itching a spot on her forearm. “How was the flight—“

“I’m sorry, for everything. I shouldn’t ‘ve . . .” You swallowed. “I hate that this is our reality now. I care about you, and I hate that we’re like this.”

Everything you wrote in your Notes app had seemingly vanished out the window. Flo, with sleepy eyes and furrowed eyebrows, listened.

“I felt as if . . . you’d been distant, that you’d rather spend your time with others—your friends—rather than with me. And I should have gone to you about it, instead I let my jealousy and insecurities dictate the way I acted.”

“You hurt me a lot, Y/N.”

“I know.” You whispered, wiping tears away harshly. “If you don’t wish to be with me anymore—“

“That’s not what I want.” Flo said firmly. “I want you to tell me what’s in that head of yours. Lately, it feels like you’ve blocked me out. I don’t want you to run away, but I can’t keep going if you continue to stray away from me. Breaking up would be so much easier, but I don’t want easy. I want you.”

You nodded frantically, a loud sob ripping through your throat. In that moment, you could only do what your most human desires told you to do. You sought comfort in her arms, knowing that no matter how hard you collided into her, she’d be willing to catch you. And then you weren’t so afraid anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you kept mumbling over and over.

Flo was crying too, and kissed the top of your head. “For the record, I’m never working with you again.”

“Deal.”

One taste of loneliness was enough.

[bandaigaeru]

song of the summer - bang chan

→pairing: ceo bang chan x gn reader

→genre: kinda strangers to lovers

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

→word count: 12.5k

→ warnings: swearing, shitty father figure

i.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was an ego boost.

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

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

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

“The team personally requested you,” he says.

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

It’s all a game of luck.

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

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

“Congrats,” the belonger says.

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tip your head and sigh. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?” you press.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you say that?”

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

“You’re both evil.”

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

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

ii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Minho grabs the bag of treats for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Irritated, at the least,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seungmin, your alleged evil twin, waves you over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bro night might not be as bad as you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

“Team captains?” Seungmin asks.

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

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

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

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

Minho points a finger at you, “Allegedly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Changbin reaches over the couch to try and hit him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

iii.

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

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

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

Jisung slumps to the ground, “I know.”

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

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

He extends a hand to help you up.

“You’re leaving already?” Seungmin asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I saw that,” he says.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

You punch his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

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

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

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

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

iv.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are not scary, bro.”

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

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

“Come on. Fight me.”

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

Changbin shakes his head. “I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

He seems relatively happy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

From here on out, it’s smooth sailing.

v.

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

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

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Awkwardly stepping forward, you clear your throat.

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

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

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

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

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

He laughs, “Maybe.”

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

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

“You can tell me if you want.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Loba?” Chan repeats, stifling a laugh.

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

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

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

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

You appeal confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s comforting,” he admits.

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

“Why?”

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

He looks at you quizzically.

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

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

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

vi.

Unfortunately, peace is temporary. Always and forever.

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

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

You shake your head.

“Heard from him?” Jisung follows.

Again, you shake your head.

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

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

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

“No one’s seen him?” you follow up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vii.

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” his voice penetrates your ears.

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

“What?” he mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Scared to?”

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

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

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

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

viii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

“With?” you prompt.

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

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

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

“Sure, if you pay for my outfit.”

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

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

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

ix.

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

Minho’s message buzzes against your palm.

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

You: Lol thanks again for taking care of her.

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

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

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

God, this is all Minho’s fault.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you turn back to him.

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

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

x.

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

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

You stare at your shoes as you follow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lee Knows: Has he made a move yet?

You: Why would he?

Lee Knows: Idk you’re kind of obvious.

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

Seungmo: Is it true that you like Chan?

Minho. Lee Minho. You grimace.

You: No comment.

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

The text really ties together with the barfing emoji.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right,” he rolls his eyes.

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

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

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

“Just a strawberry mimosa.”

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

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

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

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

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

You reach up and flick his wrist.

“Ow! What was that for?”

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

“Sorry,” he whispers.

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

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

xi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you cold?” Chan asks.

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

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

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

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

xii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xiii.

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

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

“Go away,” you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

“What, do you have a date to attend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lee Knows: Loba’s gonna be so happy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such as?” Chan prompts.

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

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

“Uh, no,” you draw out.

“The media sure thinks otherwise,” Minho jabs.

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

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

CEO Bang Chan Lands a Date Weeks Before Comeback.

Bang Caught With Employee?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: Horribly.

“Well,” Jisung draws in a sharp breath.

“Good luck,” Minho finishes for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does Minho have to do with this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, looking at you solemnly.

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

“I know.”

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

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

“Tell me.”

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

“You’re such a nerd.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xiv.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xv.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groan alongside Jisung. “Stop talking.”

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

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

The time has finally come! Welcome to the analysis of the last song from Encanto – All of You

- And we’re starting on a negative note, because why did the translators think that it’d be a good idea to change the line “But we’ll get by just fine” to “Nothing [in life] comes for free”

- This is a minor nitpick, but “You’re more than just your gift” is in Polish “There are more things that count” which is the closest translation, but it’s less direct :(

= I have to say “A mistake grew from my love” is a beautiful line, but it’s still not the same as “Just so afraid I’d lose you too”

*They juggled singular and plural “you” in a very smart way here I have to say

+ All of you is so smartly translated! Since “all” is gendered in Polish, they simply take the chance that it’s repeated and use first the feminine version, then the masculine, hence “Cała ty, cały ty”

+ “Yes, does anyone want to talk about Bruno?/Then maybe I’ll go!” hsbvhjsbchs

= “wyszło” and “wszystko” is a really nice rhyme

- But other than that, Bruno’s part isn’t the best in terms if exact translation? Honestly I don’t really understand what he was trying to say, like, I have the lyrics before my eyes and I don’t get the meaning so maybe that’s a problem with me. I’m also not sure if “Mam ten gest” was supposed to be a Frozen reference like in the original or not? Though it reminds me more of “It’s hard to be a god” but this one is definitely a problem with me

+ Felix’s voice sounds extremely weird here and he’s barely audible but he says “szwagier” (brother in law) so yay

+ Bruno’s informal contractions are conveyed in him saying “siory” instead of “siostry” to his sisters :>

+ “Hey, we're just happy that you're here, okay?” turned into “You’re finally where your home is” 🥺

= No mention of them being triplets, but personally I’m glad, it would sound weird

+ “Nothing’s gonna stop us!”

+ HBHCBSHDCBSHDCB “cała wieś” hzbdhjbsc why is it so funny to me XDD

* He literally says the whole village is coming but like, Encanto was always called a town and the sheer word village is just so funny to me in this context

+ “SO MANY ROADS (SO MANY ROADS) LEAD TO THE HOME’S TRESHOLD” 😭

+ “Strength or not but I have my reason” I really like it :3

+ “Let’s plant something may it grow/ To the stars and you too/ Fly there” I like it, it’s a nice callback to Isa’s song and I think it even makes more sense than the og line of “C'mon, let's plant something new and watch it fly/ Straight up to the sky, let's go” because why would the plants fly XD

+ “Though the stars are burning, the constellations will glow” I love this line and also the implications

+ Mira uses a colloquial idiom “to be in a ditch” which has the same meaning as “to be blue” :D

+ The difference is very slight but Szczepaniak really just pronounces the line “Have you met Dolores?” with such sweet curiosity (and contrariness?? Like the tone you have during bantering I guess) in her voice :3

+ “Papa” with a strong p is such a good substitute for “g’bye”

+ Okay I’m going to translate the entirety of Dolores’ part because I just prefer it y’know, I genuinely like it better

“You have such a voice/ You take care of your mom just a perfect son/ And you write lovely poems in the evenings right before bed/ So maybe you’d wake up and maybe you’d notice me?” “Dolores… where had I had my eyes?” “Talk to me like that”

I just- It’s better

Fight me

Though I have to admit I never understood what’s the deal with “I see you/I hear you” like?? Is this a reference to something? Is this a thing people say to each other in the US?? Why is this a big deal she literally heard him all the time

+ Just “It’s our home” instead of “Home sweet home”, I suppose I like the use of sayings in the characters’ lines, but well, first of all we don’t really have this one here, second it stays as the reference to “The Family Madrigal” and three, I just think this simple line really works here

= Instead of “celebration” Alma says something similar to “chaos” though a little more affectionate XD

+ Bruno’s voice when he says “We need a doorknob”, really, you just have to hear it, it’s like “well duh” but good natured XD

+ The line “For you, please take it” itself and the way Antonio says it 🥺

+ “You have such fire [embers?] within/ Such bravery you have inside”

+ “Open the door” “And your eyes too”

- We don’t get “Abre los ojos” :(

+ “ Do you see anyone?/ Is someone there?” “Oh yes… it’s me” ijwegqijugqhu 😭

And on this note we officially finish our translation comparison journey! As for “All of you” itself, I’d say it starts pretty weakly, but it really picks up to the point that there really are some parts I like more in the dub, so really a perfect song to end this movie.

I hope you enjoyed all the analysis posts and you’ll enjoy them for other media as well!

[itsclydebitches]

I was once more thinking of vol 8 and other works to compare it to. I hit Harry Potter, specifically Order of the Phoenix. Literally all that happened there showed a much better "proactive Hero" and "Big Bad vs Big Good" battle that it feels unfair to compare. What say you Clyde?

It's been a very long time since I read Order of the Phoenix, but putting aside that and the series' problems with representation (something that always feels like it needs to be acknowledged when discussing HP nowadays), Rowling did a good job of setting up both motivation and justification for Harry's actions. Which isn't to say that he was never wrong — quite the opposite, especially in OotP — but that Harry's involvement in this war is justified in a way that Ruby's involvement is not. He's not just generally active (no tea sipping equivalent scenes), but we understand why he's the one taking that action.

Harry is an unwilling participant forced to fight due to a prophecy, so when he stumbles along the way, we as the reader are understanding because jeez, what else what he supposed to do? Literally no one else can do this and he's trying his best. Ruby, in contrast, is not necessary to this fight. We might have gotten that with her silver eyes, but we didn't, so when Ruby willingly steps up — or, in Volume 8, forcibly takes control — and then gets upset because things didn't go well, the viewer (or at least some viewers: us) are far less forgiving because she demanded this responsibility and then found she didn't like having it. When Harry rushes off to the Department of Mysteries, endangering many of his friends in the process (even if they volunteered) we understand that this action is done out of love. We've spent five books establishing Harry's desire for a family, it's literally his greatest wish according to the Mirror of Erised, so going after Sirius, while reckless, is such an in-character, relatable, human decision. It's integral to who Harry is as a person. Compare that to the lack of work done surrounding Summer and the unanswered question of why Ruby is fighting Salem. Because it's the right thing to do? Great, fantastic, but uh... that doesn't really explain or justify why she's leading the charge when all these other huntsmen — with the same goals, more experience, better plans, etc. —are trying to do The Right Thing too. When thinking about HP vs. RWBY, my mind always goes back to that moment at the end of the first book when Harry tries to tell McGonagall about the stone and she brushes him off. "Ah," I thought later. "That's why three 11yos are going off to save the magical artifact when there are adult, full-fledged wizards around to do it instead. The kids tried to turn hand this off to the adults and the adults failed them." Now, combine this with Harry's growing tendency to go it alone, the implication that Dumbledore may have been allowing him to face certain threats to get stronger, each book's individual situation like a hidden chamber that only Harry can enter, his Godfather being on the run, a magically binding contract that keeps him in a competition because the bad guys are specifically after him... Harry is at the heart of the story. He's integral to it, his part in the fight inevitable, so all that's left is to see how he bears that burden.

Ruby is not integral to this fight, her presence and even her silver eyes are not necessary, her facing down Salem is only inevitable from a meta perspective regarding expectations for a protagonist (and then, in Volume 8, Ruby didn't face her.) There's no clear personal motivation to drive her. There's not even a Guardian's of the Galaxy-esque motivation in the form of, "We'll step up because no one else will." Others do keep stepping up and Ruby keeps forcing them to follow her instead, insisting that her way is better. Only problem is, it's arguably not and that's when she has a plan at all. It's like if instead of going after the stone because his professors won't, or going after Sirius because he loves him, or going after Voldemort because a prophecy and a life of having a saving-people-thing has pushed him to that, Harry made his way to the front of this war Just Because, rejecting everyone else who fought in the first war, has more experience, and actual plans along the way. Why does he do this? Because his name is in the title of the book, I guess.

RWBY throws in lost of classic ideas and setups, but doesn't seem to understand their point. Even something as simple as that Big Bad vs. Big Good conflict in Volume 8. Putting aside how muddied this has gotten between the Gods' involvement and Salem's dip in the grimm pool, Volume 8 took the threat of our Big Bad arriving with an army and... ignored it. Instead, they ran with Ironwood as the primary antagonist of the volume, the guy trying to stop Salem, a previously established ally, the guy who just gave up his arm to capture another clear-cut villain, and who throughout Volume 7 demonstrated none of the manipulation we would attribute to a Dumbledore-like figure. Rather than running with their Big Bad's arrival, RWBY asked how they could force one of the good guys to become a bad guy instead, hence the sudden shooting of Oscar and murder of the councilman. This is a far from perfect comparison (and I take my virtual life in my hands bringing up another controversial character lol), but it's a little like if after we learned about which side Snape was truly on, he suddenly tried to kill Hermione, succeeded in killing a minor character like Professor Flitwick, and then made plans to destroy all of Hogwarts. Meanwhile, everyone is ignoring Voldemort standing on the front lawn because the narrative randomly made Snape the biggest problem instead. So a lot of the fanbase is like, "Yeah he's absolutely a dick and his horrific past/contentious choices are the point of his character... but he's also supposed to be one of the good guys at the end of the day? And the Big Bad is right there? We can argue about how 'good' Snape is until we're blue in the face, but he's no Voldemort. Why did you feel the need to chuck the morally gray character off the deep end for our heroes to oppose when our primary antagonist is literally right here, trying to kill them?" From this, to introducing a dead mother that in no way motivates our cast, to having Oscar face down Salem with an improvised weapon instead of Ruby with her eyes, to giving Penny an arc about accepting her android body only to rip it away, etc. etc. RWBY continuously throws out ideas without understanding what they're meant to accomplish. There's a lot to criticize about Harry Potter nowadays, but a lack of logical development isn't one of them.

And just to chuck in another text — because I too think about what has done Volume 8 themes better lol — consider: Loki. Stop reading now if you don't want spoilers, but a couple episodes in Loki and Sylvie end up on a dying planet that is only evacuating the rich. That's said overtly in both the dialogue and visually in the mise-en-scene, with poor people screaming that only the rich are getting tickets for the rocket and elaborately dressed elites enjoying the comforts of that ride. Then, just as they're about to escape, leaving the rest of their world behind, a piece of the moon hits the ship, either killing them instantly or stranding them with the people they abandoned. And I thought to myself, "See, this makes sense in a way RWBY never did." Evacuation was never about wealth in RWBY, despite what the fandom continually claims. Ironwood was trying to evacuate everyone and only stopped because they all assumed Salem would be killing them momentarily. This situation included Relics and a Maiden that would easily turn the tide of the war, meaning their safety influenced the whole world, not just these people. Mantle was not necessarily about to be destroyed — indeed, we find out later that Salem had no interest in it — and it was always a bad faith (and OOC) assumption that Ironwood was leaving his kingdom for good. The story doesn't even acknowledge the huge number of Mantle citizens already on Atlas when the attack begins. I was just sitting there thinking, "This two episode mini conflict in an insane show with alligators and time shenanigans somehow holds up better than RWBY's 27 episodes that are trying to be deep. How does that happen?"

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 3-16: 海水与火焰 Seawater & Flames Translation

“From now on, all you have to do is to answer my questions.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

The air was heavily permeated with the acrid smell of food that had long since turned bad. 

Hemp rope, capsules, and many pieces of orange-coloured origami paper littered the ground by my feet.

MC: This is…

Every piece of origami paper that laid scattered on the ground had fold marks, some of it was even complete, folded into the shape of a butterfly.

Origami butterflies, the security guard, racing… The image of a young woman entered my mind.

Osborn: The sound we heard earlier came from over there.

I looked towards a corner of the room. There was a row of tall shelves, blocking the view of the people who were hidden behind. Light shone forth from behind the shelves, casting shadows.

I heard the hiss of tape, along with the sound of heavy and ragged breathing. The person being restrained sounded like they were in great pain.

??: I don't have the time to be playing games with you!

Osborn exchanged a glance with me. Understanding passed between us as we both silently approached the other end.

Through the gaps between the shelves, I could see the same who'd assaulted me back then. He was using hemp rope to tie a woman down on a chair.

The woman cried out, struggling vehemently against her binds. So much, that it enraged the man who then kicked her chair, making it topple right over!

MC: !

I caught sight of a familiar face the moment the chair fell onto the ground.

Lin Yao's agent!?

I felt an iciness creep up my heart. I pulled at Osborn to nab his attention and lowered my voice into a whisper.

MC: I recognize the person who's being bound to the chair. She's the mother and agent of the star, Lin Yao.

The light in Osborn's eyes dimmed a tad before he made a shushing motion.

Man: You should have thought about your fate when you locked her up in the attic back then, abusing her every day.

Man: Hurry and sign that agreement contract! ...Do you hear me!? Otherwise… Otherwise, I will make you disappear; forever!

The bound agent could only vehemently nod in response, gripping onto the pen that had been shoved into her hand and signing the contract with much difficulty.

After a period of silence, the man laughed; a laugh so solemn and tragic.

Man: This is how it should be. Her contact has been dissolved; she's finally free…

Did he kidnap the agent just to dissolve Lin Yao's contract? To grant her freedom? But I didn't interact much with her… So, why would he have attacked me?

Before I could wrap my head around it, I suddenly saw the gleam of a sharp and deadly blade flash in his hand…

Not good!

The shelf we'd been hiding behind was knocked over by a well-timed kick as Osborn threw a couple of fallen debris his way with startling speed and accuracy.

Clatter!

The small knife fell onto the ground.

The man angrily got up and turned around to see just who was behind him… Only to be surrounded and trapped by blue fire!

He wailed in pain, falling to the ground. However, his eyes remained fixated to where the contract had fluttered to a rest. He reached out to the piece of paper, grabbing ahold of it.

Was he laughing; or was he crying? I don't know. His shaky hand reached out, picking the contract up and carefully safekeeping it in his inner breast pocket.

The agent twisted, making muffled cries for help. Her once prideful and haughty face was now marred with a multitude of wounds.

I stepped up and tore the tape that sealed her mouth off.

Agent: H-Help me!

Agent: He's a madman!

Agent: You're police, right? Hurry and arrest him and get me out of here!

Agent: That madman caught me yesterday, insisting that I sign a contract to dissolve my contract with Yao'yao.

Agent: Quick! Get me the contract so that I can rip it apart!

Man: Give it a rest! Over my dead body! I won't let you control her again.

Agent: Stop daydreaming! I'm Lin Yao's mother. She WILL listen to whatever I say.

Man: You are not worthy.

Hearing the agent’s words, the man suddenly got even more agitated. His face was pinched in a pained look.

Man: Just what do you see her as? A money tree!? I should have stopped her from going with you at the orphanage back then!

Man: She was so elated when she went off with you back then, thinking that she'd finally have a family…

Agent: Back then? Are you from the orphanage too? You're a kid from that place!

Man: That's not all. I almost got adopted by you, mom.

The fragments finally pieced themselves together in my mind, forming the full picture.

Lin Yao was a child whom the agent had adopted from the orphanage, and she knew this man since childhood. Hence, Lin Yao’s friend who liked racing should be none other than him.

But for some reason or another, this was also the same man who’d vanished for a long time. After his return, he learnt that Lin Yao was being harshly treated and coerced against her will by the agent. So, he kidnapped her and coerced her to sign a termination agreement instead.

The agent instantly shot up from her spot, seemingly wanting to retort back about something. However, her body swayed twice before she fainted, collapsing onto the ground.

Osborn picked up the small discarded knife that had fallen onto the ground, holding it up and pressing it to the man’s neck.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: From now on, all you have to do is to answer my questions.

Man: This has nothing to do with you, Osborn!

Osborn: Cut the crap.

Osborn: The attacks that have been happening recently. Were they all your doing?

Man: ...Yes.

After a moment of silence, Osborn took out a bracelet from his pocket…

It was the very same nameplate bracelet with the two-headed snake motif that I'd seen that day on the roof.

Osborn: This must be yours then, isn't it?

Man: My bracelet! Why do you have it!? You did THIS to me!!

Osborn: Don't move. Explain yourself.

Osborn: What purpose does this device serve?

Man: To stop us from going berserk.

Osborn turned the bracelet, angling it and pointing to the back.

Osborn: HCP18407. What is it?

Man: That's my name.

Osborn: You said "us" earlier. Who's "us"?

❖☆———————————★❖

The man seemed like he'd wanted to grin so wide that a smile split his face.

However, his skin was so bone-dry that it was clinging tightly to the bones with no give at all. It made moving a struggle for him, and the only thing that still retained its mobility was his eyes.

He laughed. Then, he shrugged his shoulders and started to whine pathetically.

Man: I don't know.

Man: We were kept captive; our names and existences erased. Everyone was given a number.

Man: Hearing, taste, touch… We were all slowly deprived of all senses

Man: In the end, we turned into beasts that had to rely on blood to survive.

He stared at the floor in a daze, his voice growing increasingly muffled.

Man: I witnessed my best bud turn into nothing but an empty shell with my own eyes. And the experiment failed on me, so I was discarded as if I was nothing but trash.

Man: I went through so much just to escape before I got annihilated. Ask just so that I could see Yao'yao!

Man: But without the daily supplement they gave, along with the bracelet's inhibition, I deteriorated by the day.

Man: When night falls, I can't stop myself from assaulting others…

Osborn: Night? But you assaulted her in broad daylight.

Osborn raised a finger and pointed back to me.

Man: I don't know. I suddenly smelt the strong scent of blood. Just like this smell now.

He raised his head to look at me with desire written all over his face. It looked as if he was positively ready to jump me the next second. Then, he struggled with himself, clutching at his neck and forcing himself to retreat a couple of steps.

Man: Her blood is potent and terribly enticing. It makes me lose my rationality. And I'd already attacked her by the time I came back to myself!

Man: I know that this is a crime, but I HAVE to survive.

Osborn fell silent for a long while before he spoke up once more.

Osborn: Who locked you guys up?

Man: I don't know… We're the basest of existence, so we're not allowed to know anything.

Man: I only know that those keeping us locked up were all people of the Blood Tribe.

Osborn: Did you see a man in his forties of medium build in that place? His glasses should have had the same motif that was on the nameplate bracelet.

The man instantly shook his head.

Man: There were only orphans there. All around the same age as me. I never saw anyone over the age of 30.

Knock… Knock…

A strange sound came from the glass windows.

Turning around, I saw a purplite bird knocking on the glass with its sharp beak.

Osborn froze, his expression instantly turned severe; something that I'd never seen on him. He released the man's collar, vehemently whipping around and tackling me.

Osborn: Get down!

CRASH!

The windows shattered, causing shards of glass to splinter in all directions!

A flock of purplite birds flew in front of the open window, swarming and attacking us all.

Osborn shielded me firmly beneath his body, unleashing his fire and making it form a barrier in front of us.

❖☆———————————★❖

The flapping of wings, the sound of impact being made; the shrill cries of the birds filled the dark room. 

It was eerie enough to make one's hair stand on end.

The situation had taken a turn for the unexpected. There were sounds of footsteps coming from all directions. The shreds of orange origami paper fluttered in the air, like the broken wings of a butterfly, obscuring our vision.

After a good long while, the cacophony dissolved, and the man from earlier was nowhere to be seen. There wasn't even a single trace of him ever being there.

MC: Osborn, he…

Osborn: Let's get back out first.

I nodded and carried the agent, who'd lost consciousness, together with him, running out the door.

❖☆———————————★❖

I was momentarily blinded by the light when we got outside. 

The abandoned building before me seemed so foreign and out of place, as if it were from a completely different world.

I couldn't help but look back at Osborn. He was holding tightly onto a watch, his gaze fixated on the two-headed snake motif on the centre of the clock face.

It was then that I finally understood; That the reason why he was looking for the bracelet up on the roof, and why he asked me what the meaning of this motif was outside the museum that day, had everything to do with that watch he held in his grasp.

And, he'd asked about someone earlier, as if he was trying to locate them.

I wanted to offer him words of comfort, but my attention was called away by the sudden shout. I turned towards the sound.

A plump man was waving his hand, running towards us.

??: Hey bro. I came here as soon as I got your message. What's up?

Osborn had already put away his watch. He glanced at me.

Osborn: He's Wen Wan. He'll send you home.

MC: What about you? Aren't you coming with us?

Osborn: There are still some things I have to clear up here.

MC: ...Are you going back to look for him?

Osborn: You've forgotten what I told you again.

Osborn: The more secrets you know, the more likely you are to-

His lips quirked up into an arc as he quietly averted his gaze elsewhere.

MC: Fine, be that way then… Stay safe.

Osborn: This is a walk in a park.

Osborn: You're that worried about me?

MC: I don't think things are as simple as it seems, and I'm worried that other dangers are lying in wait…

Osborn: Only because you have yet to realize just how dangerous I am.

He suddenly leaned down, opening my palm and depositing a handful of candy before he turned to leave, as free and easy as ever.

Osborn: She's all yours now.

I watched his gradually disappearing silhouette in the distance, tightening my hold on the bunch of lemon candy that he'd dropped off.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 3-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 3-19 Light) / (Chapter 3-19 Night)

[deci-doodles]

Hi yes welcome back to “no thoughts only Yanfei”. Today, we’re gonna be speculating for the nth time about what kind of illuminated beast Yanfei’s dad is while rambling about Chinese mythological creatures because why tf not

Putting a cut because it’s somewhat lengthy so...

Anyways today’s contestants are: Moon Carver and Xiezhi (and some reference images below)

Now immediately I’m gonna give MC the boot because no, he is not the father and here’s why: Moon Carver’s a fricking deer.

Now, yes, Yanfei has antler-like thingies on her head (interesting how the EN stream didn’t specify if they were horns or antlers specifically) however one thing to note about Chinese mythology is that a lot of its creatures are chimeras, literal mishmashes of different animals.

For instance, qilin in Genshin are depicted as these cute fluffy cloud creatures and while they aren’t wrong in the sense that they are truly benevolent and vegetarian creatures, when I think of qilin all I can think of is the description my dad gave when we were visiting a historic district in China: a creature with the head of a dragon, body of a deer and the scales of a fish.

As you can see, quite the contrast. Ofc the depictions of qilin have varied a lot from having two vs one horn (hence Ganyu’s constellation meaning Chinese unicorn since qilin is sometimes translated as such despite the two being very different) to how fluffy it should be and Mihoyo’s a Chinese company so I’m not gonna bash them for their take on qilin. The point is, deer aren’t the only creatures who have antlers in this neck of the mythology woods. Also Yanfei has scales on her hands, side and legs so yeah nah definitely not part deer adeptus.

(Credits to @lumie_lumie on Twitter for the references)

So does that make Yanfei half-xiezhi? And wtf is a xiezhi anyway?

Welp first off, it’s the most popular contestant that I’ve seen so far. A xiezhi is a legendary creature traditionally associated with justice and the law and could distinguish right from wrong (sound familiar?), many will point out how xiezhi used to feature on the uniforms of court officials. However one key thing about it is that it had a single horn (which it sometimes used to gouge people who did bad things but i digress-) and Yanfei, as we can see, has two.

And so this is where my personal opinion comes in because haha sike I saved it for last: Yanfei’s half Bi’an.

Behold, a toothy boi

Now in Chinese mythology, the Dragon King has nine sons (who sometimes barely even look like dragons) and one of them is called Bi’an (from what I could find, the name literally translates to two different and potentially archaic words for prison lol). Like the xiezhi, Bi’an could distinguish right from wrong and was heavily associated with justice and the law to the point where he’d often feature at the entrances of courts and prisons, always watching. He also had the appearance of a tiger/tiger-dragon hybrid but for now let’s say we went with the latter depiction.

Chinese dragons have two antlers and a long, scaley body so immediately that lines up.

Anyways, I rest my case but have some more rambling about Yanfei’s dad.

-

The steelyard balance he gave Yanfei’s from Rex Lapis himself and it’s basically said that he knows Zhongli’s true identity, so could it be possible that he fought in the archon war too? Then again we don’t know if he’s bound by any contract like the adepti are (although tbh he probably is, I’d have to check again). Zhongli’s voicelines on Honey Impact mention that currently he’s travelling and would more than likely be proud of Yanfei “should he return”, the last part being kinda odd to me because it also implies that he may not return at all darkly enough. However unless there’s a specific reason that’s keeping him on his feet, I doubt that he’d leave Liyue permanently since Yanfei grew up in a loving home and still speaks fondly of her father (her mother’s mortal however we don’t know who she is other than being a merchant so there’s a possibility she’s gone however I think that’s also unlikely since it would more than likely feature in her stories if that were the case). Anyways if he was a Bi’an I kinda wanna see him like a tougher (but still loving) version of Yanfei; Yanfei uses the law to help people and her dad uses it to protect them (ie. convicting criminals).

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain: Chapter 1004: Atlas (suite):  Part II / III

The airship pulled into the dock. The rear gangway opened up, and everyone obliged Jaune's desire to get off first. "Thanks guys." Jaune said as she stepped out, enjoying the glorious headroom. His eyes focused on a man in the suit. As he walked down the gangway he realized just how short he was. "Klein?" Jaune asked. Weiss eagerly appeared beside him, Aurora smiling brilliantly behind them.

"Mr. Arc?" Klein asked, and Jaune held up his hand.

"I have more than enough people... and other things... calling me mister." Jaune replied, "Call me Jaune."

Klein's eyes turned red before turning black. Lastly they turned blue. "I'm afraid I cannot call her fiancé by his first name."

"But, I am afraid," Weiss said as she stepped down the gangway, "I am of majority and you are no longer my servant."

"But, miss?" Klein asked.

"I doubt they could afford to pay your salary." Aurora said with a bright smile as she stepped down behind her mistress.

"Lucky for me I had a great deal of leave saved up." Klein stated. "And I intend to spend it making sure you've settled in. If you'll let me."

"I'm afraid not." Weiss said with a brilliant, light blue glow, and even more brilliant smile. She stepped down the gangway. "You will be our guest, and I will hear nothing more of it."

Klein's eyes changed to yellow, and he developed a brilliant smile. "It's good to see that a relationship hasn't dulled you fire, miss."

"Weiss." she simply stated.

His eyes turned to blue. "W... Weiss."

"Your turn." Jaune said to Weiss.

"Klein." she said with glee.

"Um?" Ruby asked.

"Oh!" Weiss exclaimed, "I'm so sorry. This is my... co-wife. Ruby Rose."

"Ms. Rose?" Klein asked.

"Oh, um, your, um, butler-ness?" Ruby asked, and Weiss gave her a judgemental smile. "What?" Ruby asked, "This is my first time meeting a butler?"

"And Aurora?" Penthesilea asked.

"Oh, pssht." Ruby replied as she turned to look at her, "Wait, what?"

"As I said," Aurora added, "a personal assistant to, whom was at the time an heiress, is akin to a butler."

"You're a butler?" Ruby asked. "Wait, you do bake me cookies? And make really good tea. But you're also a banker?"

"She is good a good many things." Penthesilea stated, "Like our dear co-wife." Ruby followed her gaze and saw Weiss.

"Oh?" Ruby asked, "Duh."

"Your smiling gazes feel enthralling." Weiss said with glee. "Like they are burning a hole in me."

"Apropos for a Snow Angel." Ciel neutrally added.

"Ah." Weiss gently exclaimed, "This is Penthesilea Polendina and Ciel Soleil."

"Hello, again." Penthesilea stated.

"Greetings." Ciel neutrally stated.

"And this is..." Weiss continued.

"Jaune Arc." Klein simply stated, and Weiss looked at him with surprise. "You spent enough time speaking of him to make his presence unmistakable." His eyes turned green, "As you might have guessed, I am Klein Sieben, former butler to the Schnee Mansion."

"What are you doing here?" Ruby asked.

"For helping the young lady, Jacques Schnee pushed my contract to the point of breaking, but I will not yield."

"No, I mean here." Ruby said, gesturing to the floor.

"In the miliary docks?" Penthesilea asked.

"We are in a public sector." Ciel simply stated.

"A what?" Ruby asked.

"How does the military get supplies?" Weiss asked her.

"I don't know?" Ruby asked, and Weiss sighed.

"Despite giving the miltiary a priority," Ciel interjected, "there are a large section of the military docks accessible to the general public."

"Hence why we had to go through the checkpoint." Weiss stated.

"I thought that was just because it was super secret?" Ruby asked.

"There are checkpoints." Ciel affirmed.

"We're going to go and..." Ruby voiced, and paused for a moment, "We probably can't tell him, can we?"

"And I am afraid I have promised to stay safely in the military's embrace." Aurora voiced.

"I am not as young as I used to be." Klein replied.

"Posh." Weiss admonished.

"I am on leave." Klein stated, "I could use some rest."

"So?" Ruby asked, "Like a vacation?"

"Oh, yes." Klein stated.

Penthesilea stepped forward, looming over Ruby and Weiss, "Perhaps we should move out of the gangway."

"Some of us actually have things to do." Taj said from behind them. Ruby Petal Burst out of the way, Weiss stepped down the gangway, and Jaune jumped down.

* * *

RW + PC + JI walked down the corridor and up to the checkpoint. "Doctor Polendina is waiting for you in the first research laboratory. Take a left up ahead, and then take the second left. Please - don't - wander - around."

"Of course." Jaune said, and turned to Weiss.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"We need your Weissy-ness." Ruby said to her. Weiss simply looked back at her a moment before nodding.

* * *

Jaune and Ruby nearly walked passed the door as Weiss cleared her throat. They looked back at her before following her gaze to a door labeled '1st Research Laboratory'. Jaune stepped foward and opened the doors. He stood aside to let everyone walk in.

The moment she was in the door, Penthesilea rushed over to embrace her father. The two pulled apart and he looked up at her, "It's good to see you."

"And you, as well, father."

"Are those horses?" Ilia asked, and found Jaune's hand on her shoulder. He leaned down to gently but emphatically whisper into her ear, "Let's give them a moment." Her red false-gloves and stockings turned black, as she nervously looked around. "Easy." he soothingly whispered, and her gloves and stockings adopted her now usual red.

"You've really come out into your own?" Pietro asked her in awe.

"Thank you, father. I have had a startling discovery."

Pietro turned towards the others, "Come in, come in. Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"The offer is acknowledged." Ciel stated, "But our standards for coffee have improved quite a bit recently."

"Weiss spoiled them." Penthesilea said to her father. "She makes exceptionally good coffee."

Weiss was looking around nervously with a light blue flush.

"Aurora makes the tea!" Ruby exclaimed.

Weiss snapped to attention, "She does." she affirmed.

"Well, we can sit down." Pietro said, and pointed at 3 couches. The group walked over, with everyone but Jaune sitting down. Pietro turned to Penthesilea, "So, tell me, what happened?"

Ruby stood up, raising her arms triumphantly, "The Truth!"

"The Relic of Knowledge." Penthesilea stated, and Pietro tried his best to not be shocked by this revelation. "One of the Four Relics, the gifts of the Brothers?"

"One that can only be used 3 times every hundred years." Jaune stated.

"And you used it for?.." Pietro asked, "I mean, Penthesilea is?.." He paused and took a deep breath. "You simply just..."

"Ren wanted to." Jaune dismissively said.

"And that is all it took?" Pietro asked.

"Trust." Ilia voiced. "They trust each other to a ridiculous degree."

"Hmm." Jaune disapprovingly uttered, and Ilia looked at him nervously.

"You excluded yourself." Weiss said to her.

Ilia returned to her natural colouration and breathed in deeply. She recoloured herself and nervously looked down. "We." she voiced.

"Much better." Weiss stated.

"Ren asked what happened to their fallen comrad." Penthesilea stated, and Pietro leaned in, looking at her eagerly, "Pyrrha Nikos. Due to the circumstances involved."

"You probably know what we are talking about." Jaune stated, as the information poured through Pietro's head.

"The Aura... bound together?" Pietro asked, "I always hated the idea of that."

"Because of it..." Penthesilea voiced, "I... we... I was not allowed to... go where the dead normally go. I- was given a choice."

"And you chose?" Pietro asked.

"To be with my friends." Penthesilea stated, "It was the only thing I truly wanted, at least to see them happy."

"And that is why you wanted to leave so quickly?" Pietro asked, "You wanted to be with your friends? Truly heartwarming."

There was a pregnant pause before Weiss spoke up, "Though, that is only the start of the story."

Pietro looked at Penthesilea with bated breath, "We're married!" Penthesilea exclaimed.

"At least as married as the rest of us." Weiss stated.

"Everyone other than Weiss." Ciel stated.

"So, at the wedding?.." Pietro asked.

"I will officially be a bridesmaid." Penthesilea said with glee.

"I'm so happy for you." Pietro stated, nearly overwhelmed by the emotions. He wiped tears from his eyes, and looked up to see tears in hers.

Weiss wrapped her arm around Ruby. Ilia leaned back, feeling warm. Jaune's moist eyes moved over to the mechanical horses behind them.

"Ah, yes?" Pietro asked. He wiped his eyes and struggled to his feet. Penthesilea rushed over to help him to his feet. He looked at her sweetly, "Thank you." He then turned to the mechanical horses. "We were working on making the Knights better on rough terrain. It occured to us that this would be easier to do with four legs. The initial model was more akin to a dog, but then we built the Cheval Knights.

Ruby raised her hand, "Can we see the dog?"

"It is not actually a dog, though we are working on them." Pietro replied.

"Can we see them then?" Ruby asked, and Pietro developed a bright smile.

"When they are complete?" Weiss asked.

"Of course." he said, and looked back to the Cheval Knights. "The basic model is the Destrier."

"And for those of us who don't speak horse?" Ruby asked.

"A knight's charger." Jaune voiced.

"Yes." Pietro stated, "They are each as strong as a truck, but can cross rough terrain."

"And the other models?" Ciel asked.

"We tried different forms, and different Dust." Pietro stated. "The simplest one is the Kelpie, it uses Ice Dust in it's hooves to run across water. We developed the Unicorn that uses it's horn to manipulate Gravity Dust, it also has Baronet level intelligence."

"It's smarter?" Ruby asked, while Weiss looked enthralled at the elegant, somewhat goatlike form.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Contract Killer (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister + Hailey Upton imagine)

Very, very loosely based off of season 2 ep 3 of PD titled "The Weigh Station".

What if Hailey's story meeting Jay is a little different? And it's all because of one big bad decision and seeing Y/N.

Hailey looked through her binoculars at the man who, if she could help it, would be dead within 48 hours. She could make it 24 if she really wanted to, but she needed to make sure she was alone and that she had time to get it to whoever needed to see him dead. Even though she was the one tasked with killing him, she had no idea who actually put the bounty out on his head. Someone she had put in prison (ironically, the reason they were in prison was for being a contract killer) when she worked in robbery-homicide had called her once they were out and told her about this opportunity. And, since Hailey had been fired from her job for a rumor that went around that she was sleeping with a superior officer and didn't actually pass the detective's exam (both were lies), she needed money, so she agreed to the hit.

A girl walked out of the house, surprising her. She looked too young to be one of Halstead's flings. She looked between 15 and 20 from where she was looking. Maybe she just had a babyface, though. Yeah, definitely just a babyface.

The girl walked outside and to her car with a backpack. She was starting her car when Jay Halstead ran out of the house and handed her what Hailey assumed was a textbook.

Shit, she thought, this girl's in high school or college, so it definitely wasn't a fling or a one night stand. If this was a younger sibling or relative that he was taking care of, then there was no way she was going through with this. When people were helping out their younger family members, well, that's where Hailey drew the line. She knew that Jay had an older brother, Will, but he was a doctor and could take care of himself. If Halstead had a younger sister that was still dependent on him financially or otherwise, well then there was no way she could do this.

Hailey pulled out her burner phone and called the burner number that was given to her in case she needed more information or she encountered any problems.

"JP," she started, "does Halstead have any siblings besides Will? There's a girl at his house and she looks too young to be sleeping with him."

She heard keys clacking on the other end. It took longer than she had expected. "Shit," JP said. "He's got a younger sister, Y/N Halstead. She's twenty and according to this, she lives with him since their parents are dead and she's in college. Need me to hand this off to someone else?"

"Yeah, you know I only did this for the money and my one drawback is people who are dependent on the people you want me to kill."

"What do you know about this guy?" JP asked. He assumed she didn't know much about him.

"They just told me that he was an ex-army ranger who killed innocent civilians in Afghanistan."

"God, they lied to you so hard, Upton," JP told her. "He's a detective with the Intelligence Unit of the CPD. And, he saved people overseas, he didn't kill them."

"Shit. I'm out. I'm definitely out."

Then, she hung up. But, she promised herself that he'd try her best to protect him. After all, she had taken this job, so maybe she could fix it by trying to protect him. She wasn't doing it for him, though. She was only doing it for his little sister. If it were just him, he'd be dead in less than two days.

***

You poured syrup on your waffles at the small diner you and your brothers had gone out to. It was a rare night where you didn't have any major studying to do, Will wasn't working or on call, and Jay wasn't working on a case or undercover, so you were all out for dinner together.

"How's school?" Will asked.

"You know, the usual. Homework, tests, papers," you answered.

"That's code for she constantly complains about how much homework she has, but does it anyway," Jay joked.

"At least I have less school than him," you said, pointing at Will. "And, I'll still get the doctor title."

You wanted to be a sports psychologist, which required a doctorate degree. So, instead of there just being one doctor in your family, there'd be two.

"And you're crazy to think that I'll address as Dr. Halstead."

"Hey, at least it's not a medical doctor," you pointed out, knowing Jay's hatred for needles and hospitals in general.

"But a shrink might be even worse, Jay. She'll be able to see through your shitty I'm fine excuses for how you're feeling mentally after you take yet another bullet."

"You've used up how many of your nine lives now? Four? Five?" you laughed.

"One day he'll realize he isn't invincible," Will said, agreeing with you.

Hailey was watching from afar when she saw a man in a black hoodie enter the diner. She didn't think anything of it, but in hindsight, she wishes she would have been able to look a little closer.

You heard a Pop! and then you were roughly pushed off your stool by Jay and onto the ground, all while hearing him yell.

"Get down! Get down!"

The shots continued and you screamed from underneath your brother.

"You're okay, you're covered," Jay told you.

And then, silence. The shots had stopped.

Slowly, Jay looked up, making sure the shooter was in fact gone.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he got up.

Before you could even answer him, Will was next to you, looking you over in a way that only a trained medical professional would.

"Did we- did we just get shot at?"

"We did," Jay answered. "But, we're gonna get out of here. I'm gonna call Voight and we're gonna figure this out. Did I hurt you at all when I pushed you off that stool?"

"No."

"Stay with Will."

And you did just that while Jay went off to call his unit.

Meanwhile, Hailey watched as squad cars pulled up a few minutes later. From the side of their cars, Hailey saw that Jay's unit was in the 21st district. Now whoever got hired to do the hit wasn't just going after Jay, he was going after his family. And, that's where Hailey drew the line. She knew where she'd be going tomorrow morning.

***

"Sergeant Platt," Hailey said as she walked into the 21st district of Chicago at promptly 8 o'clock the next morning.

"Goldilocks! What can I do for you?" Platt always had a soft spot for the young detective (hence the nickname) since she had responded to a call at her father's restaurant when Hailey was a kid and she was working the beat. And, they had kept in contact ever since. Platt may or may not have been the reason that Hailey got into the academy on her first try.

"I need to talk to you." Hailey looked around, and seeing a bunch of patrol officers, she decided this might not be the best place. "Alone. Somewhere preferably without cameras."

Platt gave Hailey a confused look but led her downstairs anyway. "What's going on?"

"So, I may or may not have taken a job to kill Jay Halstead, but--"

"Wait, wait, wait. I think my hearing is going. Did you just say you took a job to kill detective Halstead?"

"I said I may or may not have, but it's closer to may have."

"Jesus Christ, Hailey, I know you got fired, but why?" Platt asked, stunned.

"Before you tell anyone, once I learned he had a sister, I backed out. But, I needed money and I got terrible information because whoever wanted this hit said that he killed innocent civilians when he was overseas. So, excuse me for trying to rid the world of someone who I thought was the scum of the earth."

"So, you didn't even take one shot at him?" she asked, trying to figure out how she could keep Hailey out of trouble.

"Not even one."

"Please tell me you have useful information because I have to hand this over to Voight...and he will not hesitate to put you away if you have nothing useful."

"I have a name, but he won't get it unless my name isn't even mentioned with this case. And, I want to help. After all, it is kind of my fault this started in the first place."

"You are so lucky Voight owes me a favor, Goldilocks."

***

Hailey was currently sitting in Voight's office with Platt next to her. Platt had explained the whole thing to him, but Voight still wanted to talk to her. He had one more proposition.

"Since there's no evidence tying you to the shooting, I can't press charges anyway. Do you know who happened to have shot at Halstead and his family last night?" Voight asked, all of his anger was gone by now because he had used it up when Trudy Platt first came to him.

"I was there watching, just to make sure nothing happened. But, I didn't get a good look at his face. And, he reached into his pocket so fast and I was so far away that I didn't realize it was a gun. If I had known, I wouldn't have hesitated to try and stop him." Voight nodded. "All I saw was that the shooter was wearing a black hoodie. Sorry I don't have more."

"Okay, Upton, here's the deal," Voight started, "I need a name and I need someone to watch over Halstead and his sister during this, make sure his sister doesn't go out anywhere alone, and that Halstead doesn't do anything stupid. You can do those two things, and I'll leave your name out of this and you can work the case. You have my word."

"So, you want me to be their bodyguard?" Hailey asked, cocking one eyebrow.

"If you want to put it that way, yeah. Only certain times when we're short patrolman or it's nighttime because I know a lot of them sleep when they're supposed to be paying attention."

"Okay, I'm in. The name's JP."

"Any phone number? Other important personal information?" Voight asked.

"I called a burner last time I talked to him, but I doubt he's still using it. I can still give it to you if you want it though." Voight handed her a sticky note and a pen from his desk and Hailey quickly scribbled down the number and handed it back to him. "As for personal information, I know he has a son. I don't know his exact age, but I know he's at least 18."

"Good to know," Voight nodded. "Thanks, Trudy," she turned to leave, but Voight stopped her. "Can you send Halstead in? Need him to meet his new protection detail."

"Platt said you needed me, Sarge?" Jay asked as he entered Voight's office, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, Halstead, take a seat. Upton, you too," he added, seeing as Hailey was still standing.

Jay furrowed an eyebrow as he saw the new blond detective. She was short, had wavy blond hair, and was wearing jeans and a blue flannel, which she wore with the sleeves buttoned up to just below her elbows.

"Am I getting a new partner?" Jay asked.

"Something like that. Meet your new protection detail, Jay. This is detective Hailey Upton."

"Sarge, no offense, but I don't need protecting. If this is about the person who shot at me last night, I can handle it." He wouldn't admit it, but he didn't want a girl as his personal bodyguard. He'd dealt with partner problems in the past with Erin, and now that she was gone, he didn't want another workplace romance. And, he was more than capable of defending himself. Also, he wouldn't say this out loud, but if someone tried to come after him, he had doubts that she'd be able to protect them both, just because of her small stature.

"It's not you that I'm worried about. It's Y/N," Voight stated.

"Oh, yeah, of course." He wasn't going to lie, after last night he didn't want his sister going out alone either. Despite you being in college, he still worried about you.

"She'll only be there at night, just in case you get called on a case. That way, Y/N won't be alone."

"Is that really necessary? Every night until this gets figured out? Will can stay with her, he's got a permit to carry. So, the only time she really needs to be over there is when he's on a night shift at Med."

"Your- Will," Hailey quickly stopped herself, before she let Jay know that she knew that Will was his older brother, "Will's not a cop, is he?"

"No. My brother's a doctor. Why does that matter anyway?" Jay asked, annoyance in his voice.

"Because I'm pretty sure that I'm a better shot than he is."

"Another reason is that, if someone is really watching you, they won't think twice about Hailey being there," Voight said.

"What?"

"Think about it, Halstead. If a random guy is at your house all the time, whoever's watching will know someone's protecting you. But, if it's a girl, they won't think that."

Jay turned his head, digesting what his sergeant had just told him. "Wait, wait, wait, you want her to pretend to be my girlfriend? You want us off pretending to play house while my life, Will's life, and Y/N's life are in danger?" Jay was raising his voice at this point, and it kind of scared Hailey, but she remained calm on the outside.

At this, Voight slammed his hands on his desk. And, Jay didn't miss how Hailey jumped at the sudden action but quickly regained her composure. "Dammit, Halstead! She's staying with you and that's final! There will be a patrol car parked outside your and Will's houses at all times. But, I can't risk patrol falling asleep at your house at night, so Upton's staying with you. End of discussion." He looked at both detectives. "You're dismissed."

"I'm gonna go pack a bag," Hailey broke the uncomfortable silence between the two. "Be at your house tonight at 6?"

"Yeah. Here's my address." He wrote his address down and handed it to her. God, he had some explaining to do.

***

Hailey quickly scribbled a note to her boyfriend, thanking God that he wasn't home from work yet before she had to leave.

Going undercover. Don't try to call my phone. Don't want a repeat from last time. Idk how long this job will be.

~Hailey.

One time when she was undercover, she didn't have time to go home and grab her things; they just threw her right in with a robbery crew in hopes that they could bust them. They did, but not before her boyfriend, Zach, came looking for her and almost blew her cover. When they talked about it afterward, he said that he thought she was cheating on him, so he went to find her.

That should have been her first red flag.

Hailey shook her head at the memories and left their barely furnished apartment. After putting the address into her phone, she started the drive to the Halsteads.

***

When she got there, she knocked and was met with the one and only Y/N Halstead.

"Can I help you?" you asked, seeing a girl you didn't know with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

"I'm a friend of Jay's. Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure." You stepped out of the doorway to allow this mystery girl to come in. "Jay!" you yelled to your brother who was currently in the kitchen with Will. "Your friend's here!"

Jay walked into the living room, followed by Will, to see both you and Hailey. "I wouldn't necessarily call her a friend," Jay stated.

"Well, then your fuck buddy's here."

Will smacked you upside the head before Jay could even scold you for doing that. "Y/N, just go upstairs to your room for a bit to cool down," Will told you.

"I don't need to cool down," you argued.

"You sure as hell do," Jay told you. "Go upstairs. Now."

And that was the voice that scared you the most: Jay's stern, do what I say or else voice, which had you turning on your heels and almost jogging upstairs to your room.

Jay, Hailey, and Will made their way to the kitchen where Jay had been making pasta before Hailey arrived.

"Is she always like this?" Hailey asked, just now realizing what she had gotten herself into.

"Not typically," Will answered. "It's just that, after last night..." he trailed off, not wanting to say what actually happened in case Hailey didn't know or couldn't know.

"She knows," Jay said. "She's actually here to make sure Y/N's never alone through all of this so nothing like last night happens again."

"Oh, wow. Okay. Does she know that?"

"I was gonna tell her before she went off the rails like that," Jay answered his older brother. He turned back to Hailey. "I'm sorry about her, really. After last night, she's kinda pissed at me for putting her in danger like that."

Hailey furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if that was actually the truth. "You mind if I go talk to her?" She knew she might have been overstepping, after all, she had just met you, but she knew it was better than either one of your brothers talking to you.

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Jay agreed. "I'll show you your room too since it's right next to hers."

Hailey nodded and the three of them walked upstairs. They showed Hailey to the guest room, where she set her bag on the bed. It was a normal-sized bedroom, with a bed, a dresser, and a tv atop the dresser.

They walked next door to your room, and Hailey knocked on your door. "Hey, Y/N? It's Hailey. Can I come in please?"

"Are my brothers with you?" you asked as you slumped against your bed, tears of embarrassment rolling down your face.

Hailey tilted her head towards the stairs, silently telling the two boys to go back downstairs. To her surprise, they both actually listened.

"No, it's just me," Hailey confirmed.

"It's open." Hailey walked over to you, but not before you started apologizing. "I'm really sorry. It's just, a lot of things happened last night and I don't know how to feel and I just took all my emotions out on you. I'm really sorry," you told her, barely pausing for breath during your explanation.

"Hey, it's okay. Lots of emotions come out when you get shot at...especially when loved ones are in the picture," Hailey reassured you.

"How did you know about that?" It's not like you had seen her around here before, so she wasn't enough in the loop that Jay or Will would tell her. She wasn't in Intelligence. She wasn't one of the responding officers from the scene last night. And, she wasn't a customer at the diner at the time of the shooting.

"That's actually why I'm here. I'm essentially your bodyguard."

"Wow, didn't know I was special enough to have a bodyguard. Are you a cop?" Hailey nodded. "Can I see your badge?" That was one thing Jay had drilled into you: always ask a cop to see their badge.

Hailey handed you her badge and you quickly studied it, seeing it wasn't just a regular badge, but rather a detective's badge. "You're a detective?"

"Yeah, just like your brother," Hailey answered.

"So, do you know how long you're gonna be here for?" you asked, wondering how long another girl would be in the house. And, you didn't mind it, you liked her already, despite how rude you had been to her just fifteen minutes ago.

"As long as the case takes," she answered. "Now, are you good to go downstairs, or do you need some more time alone?"

"I'll be down there in a minute," you answered. "I just need to wash my face really quick."

A few minutes later, you walked downstairs to be met with Jay, Will, and Hailey all sitting at the table, plates full of pasta.

"Is that fettuccine alfredo?" you asked, looking at Jay. It had been your favorite dinner since the first time you went to Olive Garden when you were eight. And, after your mom died and your dad just kinda gave up as a parent, Jay took it upon himself to make sure that he made it for your birthday or any other special occasions you were involved in, such as your high school graduation.

"Figured you could use a pick me up after everything that happened last night," Jay answered.

"Thanks. And, I'm really sorry about earlier."

"I thought I raised you better than that," Will joked.

"You raised her?" Jay asked rhetorically. "I'm sorry, who is she living with right now? Who stepped up when someone was off partying in New York and feeling up girls?"

You almost choked on your pasta at Jay's description of plastic surgery. "First of all, they're called breast implants," Will pointed out. "Second of all, I cleaned up my act...eventually."

"Okay, let me answer this," you butted in. "Mom and Dad basically raised me, but you both helped me out when I was still a minor. There, problem solved."

"Fair enough, " Jay conceded. "But one last question: who taught you how to drive?"

"You."

"Which explains why she went into a ditch the first time she drove by herself in the snow and why she's always adding at least five miles to the speed limit," Will argued.

"Oh, shut up, Will. You drive like an old grandpa. I'm surprised you make it to work on time."

"Enough about us," Will started, turning to Hailey. "Tell us about yourself."

"Not much to tell. Born and raised in Chicago, used to be a detective for robbery-homicide until something, uh, popped off. And, now here I am," Hailey answered, easily avoiding saying that she was fired.

"Did you always wanna be a cop?" you asked.

"I guess I did. Someone broke into my dad's restaurant when I was a kid and I met the most badass female cop and from then on, I wanted to be like her. My dad wanted me to be a lawyer, but I thought that was boring, so here I am."

You nodded, thinking that it wouldn't be as fun to be a lawyer.

"Oh, before I forget," Jay began, "Y/N, as of tomorrow, all of your classes are switched to online."

"Okay."

"You're not mad about that?" Will asked.

"Oh hell no. Half the time I don't even get anything out of my lectures anyway. It just feels like time that could be spent doing homework for that class."

The four of you went back to your food, eating in comfortable silence. But, after a few minutes, you realized that you still had one more question.

"So, where am I going tomorrow? Am I staying here with Hailey or...?" you trailed off, secretly hoping you'd get to spend your days with the new detective. It was just nice to have someone with estrogen around the house instead of the amount of testosterone that was your brothers.

"Since Hailey's helping us work the case, you'll come to the district with me so that Hailey has time to sleep." That wasn't the real reason. There was a patrol car most of the time, but if they were short patrolman, Jay wanted to make sure that you'd be safe. And, the best way to do that would be for you to be in a building full of cops.

"Why can't I go to Med with Will?" you whined. Jay gave you a look that read you know why. "What? All I'm saying is the hospital has better vending machines than the district. But, I mean the district has better wifi, so there's that plus I guess."

"And you don't have to see Will's ugly mug all day," Jay joked.

"Hey! I'll have you know some women think I'm handsome."

"What women? Blind ones?"

And that's how the rest of the evening went, you all getting to know Hailey better and Hailey getting to know you all better.

***

You laid awake in bed, replaying the events of the day. You could see from the crack at the bottom of the door that there was a dim light coming from the hallway, so you assumed Hailey was still awake. Since Jay typically woke up at 5 due to his training in the military, they had agreed that Hailey would go to sleep at the time that he woke up and then would meet them at the district to work the case early in the afternoon. That way, she could still get some sleep and you'd still be safe during the hours that most criminal activity occurs. Despite this, you still couldn't sleep. It wasn't that you were scared, it was just that you felt terrible and knew that Jay deserved a better explanation as to why you lashed out earlier.

You got out of bed and quietly walked across the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible so Hailey didn't run out of her room, gun drawn, thinking that you were an intruder. You opened Jay's bedroom door just a crack when you heard the tv playing in the background. Seeing that he was still awake, you walked in.

"Hey."

"Hey, what's up?" Jay asked, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie that was currently playing.

"I'm sorry about earlier, with the fuck buddy comment."

"You already apologized. Is there something you're not telling me?"

You moved to sit on the edge of his bed so that you were facing him. "It's just, yesterday when we were shot at, it made me realize how you could be gone so fast. I guess the reason I lashed out is that I was sad and scared."

Even in the dim light from the tv, you could see how much your words had affected Jay. "It's okay to be scared, Y/N. But just know that I have the best unit in the whole city that's got my back okay?"

"But they didn't yesterday and that's the scary part." You felt tears prick your eyes and knew that there was no point in holding them back, so you just let them roll down your cheeks. "If someone you put away gets out of prison and then wants revenge, they can come up to you and get you anytime, Jay. I- Me and Will thought we lost you when you got shot the last time. We can't go through that again. Because next time, you might- you might not make it. And, I need my big brother."

Jay sighed, trying to convince himself not to cry. You had never really talked about the night that he got shot trying to help Angela, and he'd be lying if it didn't worry both him and Will about how much you were bottling up those feelings. He thought you had gotten over it, hell he thought he had gotten over it, but last night had brought up those old fears for you.

Gently, Jay placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I need my little sister, too. I don't think Will can be as intimidating as me when it comes to boys either, so you need me." Despite your tears, your lips turned up into a slight smile at Jay trying to make light of the situation at hand. "And, I will always try my best to come home to you and Will. Always. And, you don't need to worry about me, because you'll be stuck with me at the district until we figure this out."

"Voight put you on desk duty?"

"I'm not thrilled, but he made the right call."

"Yeah, he did. And, you should talk to Hailey. She seems like your type."

***

When Hailey woke up the next day, she was surprised to look in the fridge to find a Tupperware container and a mug, stuck to both was a sticky note with her name on it.

Hailey, made extra for breakfast. There's eggs and bacon in here.

~Jay

And on the mug, he wrote:

Didn't know how you like your coffee, and I had some leftover in the pot this morning before I washed it, so it's yours. There's milk and creamer in the fridge and sugar in the cabinet to the left of the stove.

~Also Jay

Hailey smiled at his little notes and then put the food in the microwave. "Not bad," she said to herself after she took the first few bites. Then, she heated up the coffee and drank it as is...she liked black coffee, so she didn't bother with creamer or milk.

She started to get ready and then pulled out her phone. Y/N was probably bored at the district, so she figured she could grab her some good coffee on her way in. If the coffee at Intelligence was the same as the kind at robbery-homicide, she was sure that a twenty-year-old wouldn't like it.

You were sitting at the table in the breakroom when your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message. Hailey had said it was her and asked what coffee you liked and mentioned Starbucks. So, you told her a vanilla sweet cream cold brew would be great and thanked her and also offered to give her five bucks when she got to the district. But, she told you she'd get it.

You went to rummage around in your backpack for a different notebook when Jay walked in. "How's it goin'?" he asked as he walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself more coffee.

"I don't know how you drink that stuff. The kind here is gross."

Jay shrugged, "Eh, you get used to it after a while."

"I guess," you agreed, grabbing your notebook but not zipping up your backpack.

"What are you working on now?"

"I have to watch some boring ass sociology lectures," you answered, opening your laptop.

"Ew," he took a seat next to you and started drinking his coffee, but not without knocking over your backpack. "No way," he said as he repositioned your bag and reached into it.

"What?" When you saw his hand in your backpack, you tried to grab it back, but he already had his hand wrapped around the object that you wanted to stay hidden. "Give her back!" you shouted as Jay ran out of the room with your stuffed cat in his hand.

You had brought your stuffed animal with you in case you had gotten stuck at the district overnight. Who knows, Hailey and Jay could be out working a case and you wouldn't have been able to go home. So, as a way of making yourself feel secure, you had put your stuffed animal, whom you affectionately named Kitty as you were three years old when it was gifted to you, in the bottom of your backpack. That way, if you had to sleep on the couch in the breakroom, you could tuck it away between the back of the couch and you, so that no one could see that you still slept with a stuffed animal.

"Jay!" you yelled, chasing after him, "Give it back!"

"Never!" he yelled back, running into an interrogation room. You followed him, hoping that he forgot to lock the door.

But, you were both lucky and unlucky as Jay was currently standing with his back to the door, keeping it closed despite how hard you pushed. You heard footsteps walking up the stairs into the bullpen, and he still wasn't budging. "Jay, someone's coming! Please!" you begged, not wanting the entire unit to know that you still slept with a stuffed animal.

You heard laughing from him on the other side of the door. "Give it back!" you tried again, fists pounding on the door.

"Give what back?"

"You know what!"

"No, I don't. What do I have that you want, Y/N?"

"Kitty. Now C'mon Jay!" You heard footsteps coming down the hall where the interrogation rooms were. God, you hoped it wasn't Ruzek; he'd never let you live this one down.

"You'll have to be more specific than that." Even though you could only hear him, you knew he was smirking on the other side of that door.

"Give me Kitty, my stuffed animal, Jay!"

"There it is." He opened the door just as you saw Hailey approaching the both of you. He quickly handed you back your stuffed animal and you hid it behind your back.

"Was that a toy?" Hailey asked, holding your coffee.

"Y/N sleeps with a--" you elbowed your brother in the stomach, and he groaned, which shut him up.

Then, you heard more voices. This wasn't good. You didn't have a jacket on, so had no way of hiding it on your way back to the breakroom. "Jay, I think they need you," Hailey said.

"And you got coffee for who?" he asked her.

"Y/N. Now go. They have to get you up to speed."

"They'll have to get you up to speed, too," he argued. "You just got here."

"Just tell them I'll be there in a minute."

Jay walked away, a smirk still plastered on his face because of how embarrassed he made you. When he was for sure out of earshot, Hailey held out her hand. "Give it to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you denied.

"The stuffed animal, Y/N. I'll hide it in my jacket on our way back to the breakroom and then you can hide it from there. I grew up with three older brothers, so I know how it is."

You handed it over to her and she placed it in her jacket, then you walked to the breakroom, but not without glaring at your brother on your way there. Once it was securely stashed in your backpack and you tried to give Hailey money for the coffee, but she refused as she had told you she'd do, only then did Hailey leave you alone in the breakroom to be with the rest of the unit.

"That was mean," Hailey whispered to Jay when she was in the bullpen.

"Something wrong?" Voight asked, looking at the two detectives.

"No, what do we got so far?" Jay asked, turning his attention to Voight.

Voight stuck a picture on the board, causing Hailey to swallow. It was JP.

"This scumbag is JP." Hailey wanted to say he wasn't as much of a scumbag as they probably thought, but since he associated with her boyfriend, Zach, and knew what happened in that apartment and didn't say anything, he was still sort of a scumbag. But, then again, Hailey hadn't talked about what happened in that apartment either, so maybe she was a scumbag for keeping Zach safe. But, he swore he had cut ties with Zach, so who knows what he'd do to keep himself out of jail. "CI said that he might know some information about who wanted the hit. Swears it wasn't JP, that he was just the person hiring."

Great, so she was a CI now, Hailey thought to herself.

"So we just get him to give up the guy who wants the hit done?" Ruzek suggested. "Simple enough."

"Not when he's not talking," Voight said. "He hasn't given us a single thing. But, we can hold him for 48 hours on conspiracy, so hopefully, he'll give something up or whoever wanted the hit will get sloppy within that time."

Hailey knew that JP wouldn't crack, so her only hope was that whoever wanted the hit would get sloppy.

***

"We have five more hours or this son of a bitch gets cut loose. So, do whatever you gotta do," Voight told his unit almost two days later. It had been 43 hours since they had arrested JP and so far all they had learned was that his real name was Joe Price. He wasn't talking and they were running out of time. "Upton, a quick word?"

Hailey followed Voight to his office and she closed the door behind them. "You mentioned JP's got a son who's at least 18. Anything you think we could use as leverage? Because at the moment, he ain't talkin'."

Hailey thought for a moment. "He mentioned once that his son was going to apply for the TSA, but couldn't get in because of a misdemeanor I think."

Voight nodded, thinking. "Maybe he'll flip if I get the charges sealed." Then, they left his office and he made his way to the interrogation room.

"We know about your son, JP," Voight said as he entered the room where Jay and Kevin were currently trying to get him to spill information, even though trying was useless at this point.

At this, JP lifted his eyes to meet the sergeant's. "What's there to know?" he asked bitterly.

"We know that he applied for TSA but can't get in."

"Yeah, because of this pissant obstruction charge from when he was eighteen. But, you don't really care about that unless there's something in it for you, do you?"

"You could say that," Voight started, walking around the table."Tell us who's behind this and I can get those charges sealed. It'd take time, but I can get it done."

JP pondered this for a moment. "You're not just blowing smoke up my ass?"

"You have my word," Voight answered.

JP nodded. "Patrick Shostack. New breed of contract killer. He'll kill the kids if he can't get to the parents. Take out an entire city block just for one target. What I did before I went in, there was honor in it. I've got the stomach for a lot of things, but not for this. This new breed, I ain't got the stomach for that."

"Can we get in contact with this Shostack guy?" Jay asked.

"He's got a messaging service. Whether he calls back, I don't know."

Voight slid a phone over to him and JP dialed the number. "Tell him you have Halstead," Voight told him. "You wanna make a deal. We'll take a photo of him dead. We'll rig it."

"And if he doesn't go for it?"

"Improvise."

JP left a message and then the three left the room.

"Think this will work?" Hailey asked Jay since she had been watching the interview from the next room.

"We'll see."

It had been ten minutes and Voight and Halstead were sitting in the interview room with JP, waiting for the phone to ring. Ruzek had rigged up a line so that they could all hear what Shostack was saying.

The phone rang, and Hailey held her breath.

"Hello?"

"JP." Shostack said on the other end. "Didn't expect a call from you."

"Well, I have something you may want, Shostack."

"And that is? I'm a man who desires many things."

"Halstead," JP answered.

"Thought you backed out."

Please God, do not say my name, Hailey thought to herself.

"I did. But then, I heard they were paying you more and I want in."

"What do you want?"

"Half," JP answered. "And you better make a decision quick because the drugs I pumped into him are gonna wear off soon."

"One third and we have a deal," Shostack told him.

"Deal. I'll take care of it and bring you a photo for proof."

"No, no, no. Just because I trust you, doesn't mean I don't want to see him alive. Well, I couldn't care either way to be frank with you. But, there's someone else who needs to see him alive."

Before he could even think about how what he was going to do could affect other people, Jay pointed to the phone and gave a thumbs up. "Deal," JP told Shostack.

They decided on a meeting place and then walked out. Hailey quickly grabbed Jay's arm and dragged him into the other interrogation room.

"What the hell was that?" she shouted. "Y/N was so worried about you when you guys were shot at the other day and now you're putting yourself in danger not even three days later!"

"Last I checked, your title was detective and not sergeant Upton. I can make my own choices!" Jay argued.

"Did you even think? Your choices affect other people besides you, Halstead!"

"I can handle myself out there! Have a little faith would you?"

"Someone wants your head on a silver platter and all you can think about is making this case! Do you even have regard for your own safety?"

Jay pointed an accusing finger at Hailey, inches away from her face. "You are just here to babysit Y/N. So get back to her and do the job you're here to do and I'll do mine...without you fucking interfering with it."

Hailey scoffed and left the room, leaving him alone. And, Jay went downstairs to get ready for the meet.

***

"Is he always a dick?" Hailey asked, walking into the breakroom after taking some time to cool off.

"Who? Ruzek? He never means for his jokes to go that far. If you tell him they're upsetting you, then he'll stop," you answered.

"No, not Ruzek. Your brother."

You turned to face Hailey dead on. "You questioned his abilities to do his job, didn't you?"

"Now that you put it that way, I guess I did," Hailey answered, trying to figure out why that would make Jay so mad.

Luckily, she didn't have to ask as you decided to explain. "That's one of the only times he gets really mad--unless I do something stupid like that comment the other day. Our dad was always telling him to go into the workforce instead of the military and then becoming a cop. He didn't have respect for what Jay did. He didn't have respect for what Will did either, which is why he had to put himself through undergrad and med school."

Hailey nodded. Stuff from your past coming into the present and making emotions run high was something that she was all too familiar with.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Hailey suggested, hoping that would keep you occupied until Jay and the rest of the team got back.

You opened Netflix and then started the movie, thinking nothing of it. Hailey on the other hand, was silently worried about Jay, even if he had just yelled at her. She was only worrying about what would happen to you though if something happened to him...at least, that's what she told herself anyway.

***

You and Hailey looked up from the movie when you heard movement in the bullpen. Seeing that everyone was back, you both left to see what was up.

The first thing you noticed was how red Jay's wrists were. "Jay, what happened?" you asked, walking closer to him.

"I learned that I could choke out a suspect when my hands are zip-tied in front of me." You put your hands on your hips, not appreciating his sass. "I'm fine, Y/N, really. Now, let the big kids do their jobs and go back and do whatever you were doing. I gotta go do an interrogation."

"Can I watch?" you asked.

"I'm sorry," Ruzek stepped in. "Did you just ask if you could watch Halstead do an interrogation?"

"Adam," you whined, "I'm bored."

"Then go for a walk or get food or something," he suggested.

"Dude!" Jay yelled. "She can't be alone right now!"

"Oh yeah, right. Go get something from the vending machines or something."

"Halstead, Atwater," Voight said, breaking up the little quarrel, "Go interrogate Shostack."

"Voight, can I talk to you for a second?" Hailey asked as you walked back into the breakroom.

You were scrolling through social media, trying to find something interesting that kept your attention, when you started to hear Voight and Hailey's conversation. His office was right next to the breakroom, and it's not like the walls were soundproof. You put in your headphones so that if anyone peeked in, it wouldn't look like you were eavesdropping.

"Just let me interview Shostack," you heard Hailey say.

"Hailey, I know you feel bad about starting this mess, but I can't let you in there. If word gets out that you were a snitch, then that would spell bad news."

What did Voight mean by that? you thought to yourself. How was Hailey in on the hit on Jay's life?

"Could be an asset. I might be able to say I know JP and then he'll tell me more."

"I gave you an out so that you could work this case and not get taken down for stalking Halstead and wanting to kill him. You go in there now, and the deal's off the table. I will bury you." Voight paused and you held your breath. "You said you took the murder for hire because you needed money. Why?"

"It's my boyfriend." Hailey was so quiet when she said that, that you had to strain your ears to even hear it.

"Is he hurting you?" Silence. "I can help you, Hailey. Just tell me what's going on."

"I'm gonna go. I promise you I won't interview him." Then, Hailey left Voight's office.

But, you knew one thing: there was no way you'd be staying at your house tonight with Hailey.

***

Hailey said that she had to take a shower, and Jay was still at the district doing paperwork, so you figured now was as good a time as any.

You knew there was a party going on a few blocks from here, so you decided you'd go. You grabbed your wallet and phone and slowly slipped down the stairs and out the back door. Now you just had to make sure that Jay didn't find out. You couldn't give a damn if Hailey lost her mind over your disappearance. She deserved it after all.

Jay was sitting at his desk, trying not to fall asleep when his phone rang. "Hailey? What's going--"

"I need you to ping Y/N's phone now! I got out of the shower and she was gone and I don't know where she is and she didn't leave a note or anything!"

"Slow down," he told her, even though he wanted to freak out as much as she was. "How long were you in the shower?"

"Fifteen minutes."

Jay cradled the phone with his shoulder as he typed away at his computer. "Is her car there?"

There was a pause as Hailey looked out the window. "Yeah, it's here."

"Okay, she couldn't have gone far." He moved his mouse to zoom in. "I got a location."

When you got close to the party, you decided you didn't really want to go there. If by some miracle Jay's unit found you, you didn't want to wreck their fun. So, you kept walking. That was until you heard your name being called from behind you.

"Shit," you muttered, breaking into a run.

"Y/N, stop!"

Dammit, that one was definitely worse. You looked ahead and then turned around. There was nowhere to go; you were cornered between two detectives.

You tried to dodge Jay, but he was too fast and quickly grabbed onto you and held you tight against him until you calmed down. "Stop fighting! Stop fighting, Y/N! We're going home! What the hell were you thinking?"

You calmed down enough to stop squirming, but you were still furious. "What was I thinking?" you yelled. "I was thinking that she--" You pointed an accusing finger at Hailey. "wanted to kill you. She got hired to do that hit, Jay! She was going to fucking kill you and you want me to be alone with her?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard her! I heard her talking to Voight earlier about interviewing that one guy and he said she couldn't because no one could know that she was hired to kill you! I don't give a flying fuck if you need the money, Hailey! Yow wanted my big brother dead!"

Still holding onto you, Jay looked directly at Hailey. "Please tell me it's not true. That she tripped and hit her head or something."

Hailey looked at the ground. "It's true but--"

"Unbelievable!"

"Just let me explain, okay?" Hailey argued.

"What's there to explain?"

"Just listen to the reason I needed the money!"

"So you needing money takes priority over my life!" Jay spat.

"God, I got bad information! They said you killed innocent people overseas and I didn't know you had a little sister, so I stopped when I saw that--"

"So you were stalking me?"

"Dammit, Jay! I needed the money to get away from my boyfriend! But like you fucking care! I was just starting to care about your life and now it's just become a big inconvenience!"

"Go home, Hailey! I never wanna see you again." He looked down at you. "We never wanna see you again!"

"Fine! Get a new protection detail because the person who wants you dead is still out there until Shostack gives Intelligence something!"

Then, Hailey got in her car and drove away and Jay finally let go of you. "Get in the car," he told you sternly.

"Jay, I'm sorry--"

"Just get in the damn car, Y/N!"

You walked over to the car and pulled on the handle. "Jay."

"What?" It took all his strength not to blow up on you when you were both still outside.

"It's locked."

He unlocked the car and got into the driver's seat, you in the passenger seat. "I'm sorry," was all you said as Jay started driving.

"You could've gotten yourself killed! Whoever this new breed of contract killer is, apparently they won't stop until they get me and they'll do it by whatever means necessary! So, excuse me for being worried!"

"It's not like I could stay home with Hailey when I knew she wanted to kill you!"

"But you could've told someone! You could've told me!" The next part, he said quieter, which almost made it worse than if he would've yelled it. "How fucking stupid can you get?"

It's not like he had never called you stupid, he had, but it was always jokingly and when you were kids. But, this time, it felt different, like he meant every single word he said. You put your hand over your mouth, to try and stop yourself from sobbing, but one came out anyway.

Jay didn't even seem to notice, just kept his eyes focused on the road and his jaw clenched.

When you got home, you jumped out of the car, not even waiting for Jay to completely put it in park. Then, you ran into the house, only to crash into Will.

"Whoa! Slow down!" he said, grabbing ahold of you to stop you from falling.

You yanked your arm out of his hand. "Let go of me!" you yelled and then ran straight to your room and slammed the door shut for good measure.

"What happened?" Will asked as Jay walked inside.

At this, Jay finally grasped the gravity of the moment and what he had done. "I fucked up, Will. I fucked up so bad."

"So, you let Y/N sneak out. That's happened to everyone. If I remember correctly, me and you did it all the time," Will said, trying to lighten the mood.

"This isn't like that and you know it." Jay paused and took a deep breath. "God, I should've never left her alone with Hailey."

"Why? What's wrong with Hailey?" Will asked. And so, Jay told him. And Will was as shocked as Jay was.

"What did you say to Y/N?"

Jay sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. He hated what he had done only because their dad had said the same thing to Jay when he was younger and you were in the room and defended your big brother, telling your dad that Jay wasn't in fact stupid, but smart. "I called her fucking stupid, Will." He rubbed his hands on his face, pissed at himself. "God, I did what Dad did that one day and she stood up for me. I'm a terrible brother."

Will sat down next to his younger brother and put a comforting arm around him. "Jay, look at me." Jay lifted his head. "You are not a terrible brother, you are far from that. She'll come around and realize that. Now, do you know why Hailey needed the money?"

"Said she needed it to get away from her boyfriend or something like that," Jay shrugged.

"Do you know where she is right now?"

"No, and I really couldn't care less."

"Jay, listen to me. She said she needed it to get away from her boyfriend."

At this, Jay's head snapped up. "Oh, God. Oh, God. I gotta find her. Stay with Y/N!"

***

"How was the undercover assignment?" Zach asked Hailey as she let himself into their little apartment.

"Was good. You know I can't talk about an open investigation, Zach."

"Hmmm, so you weren't working with other cops?"

Hailey looked at him like he was crazy. How did he know that she was working with Halstead? "No, it was just me."

Then, he pulled a gun from his waistband. Hailey put her hands above her head in surrender. "Zach, let's just take a moment to think this through. How about you tell me what you think happened undercover?"

"And you'll answer my questions honestly?" he asked, but with a gun now pointed at her, it was more like a command.

"Why didn't you kill him?"

"Kill who?" she yelled.

"Jay Halstead! Why didn't you kill him?"

I don't know what you're talking about!" She lied, but then instantly regretted it as Zach took the gun and hit her in the stomach. She reached for her gun in her holster, but then Zach took his arm that wasn't holding the gun and twisted it behind her back. Hailey screamed out in pain and she screamed loud.

***

"Shostack," Voight began as he was pacing back in front of Patrick Shostack who was handcuffed in the cage, "you tell me everything you know about who wanted Halstead murdered and how and why a Chicago PD detective got brought in to kill him. Only then, when you tell me everything, will I even consider making a deal."

Shostack was already beginning to bruise from where Voight had hit him, so he decided it was in his best interest if he talked. He had heard rumors about this dirty cop and he knew that Voight wouldn't think twice about killing him to get answers. "The person who wants Halstead dead is Zach Grey."

Voight pulled out his phone and texted the name to Ruzek, telling him that they now had a suspect and to start going through everything about this guy. "What can you tell me about this Grey? How'd he know Halstead?"

"They were in the army together. Apparently, Grey wasn't good at following orders and made really stupid decisions out in the field. So, Halstead told their supervisor about it, and after a few more mess-ups that almost cost the unit their lives, Grey was dishonorably discharged."

"Why wait this long?" Voight asked.

"Dunno. I know Grey just moved to Chicago two years ago from California. He got a girlfriend and then he hatched this elaborate plan to get her to kill him."

"What's the girlfriend's name?"

"I don't know her name, man. I just know she was short and she was blond. Pretty little thing. Apparently, she was a cop, too. He figured that if anyone could get away with killing Halstead, she could."

"Did she know Grey was behind it?" Voight asked, thanking God that Hailey was with Jay because that description Shostack just gave him sounded a hell of a lot like Detective Hailey Upton.

"Not a chance. He called me and I got her to agree to the hit."

"I thought JP got her to agree to the hit?"

"That's where things get tricky. I used a voice modulator to disguise my voice. I told her, that if she needed money, she could kill this guy. I told her that Halstead killed innocents overseas and that he had no family other than his older brother, Will. Once she agreed to it, I gave her a number to call."

"And that number was JP?"

"Yeah. I think he knows Grey but doesn't know that he's the one behind all this. Told Upton that JP'd know what to do since he'd done it before. And, then it was all up to them after that. Didn't know she'd flip and try to help you, though. Now that was a shock."

"Did you know that Halstead has a little sister and that he's also a cop?"

"Yeah, but Grey told me what to say and promised me some of the money if the hit went through."

"Boss!" Adam yelled as he ran downstairs. "You gotta come see this!"

"We're done here," Voight said, turning back to Shostack and then going back upstairs into the bullpen.

Kevin turned the screen of his computer towards Voight. "If we got the right Zach Grey, then Hailey's got some explaining to do." In front of him was a picture from Instagram of Hailey and Zach, Zach kissing her on the cheek and it was posted only a few weeks ago.

"Please tell me you got an address for this prick."

Ruzek flipped through some papers and pulled one out. "Here's his LKA."

Voight nodded. "Let's roll out. I'll loop in Halstead."

Before Voight could even get a word in edgewise to the young detective on the other end of the phone, Jay butted in. "Did you know that Hailey was gonna kill me?"

"I know, but she backed out because she had gotten bad information--"

"You sound just like her! Why are you defending her?"

"She was trying to get out of a bad situation! Shostack told us everything, just trust me on this one. Please tell me that she's with you."

"She's not. I'm driving around looking for her right now. She said she needed to get away from her boyfriend before she left."

"Shit. Try this address."

Voight gave him the address, but Jay was wondering how they had gotten it. "How do you know where she is?"

"Does the name Zach Grey ring a bell?"

"We served together. I got him dishonorably discharged because he was being reckless and me and other guys almost died because of him. But, why is this important?"

"He's the one who wants you dead, Jay. He found out you were in Chicago and since he's Hailey's boyfriend, he figured she'd be able to get away with killing you."

"But he told her that I was the scum of the earth and didn't know I was a cop or had a little sister, so then she backed out," Jay said, piecing it together.

"Exactly."

"I'm on my way to Grey's place. Hopefully, he has no idea Hailey's been with me because Grey's got a temper."

Jay turned on his lights and sirens and sped through Chicago and into a more rundown place on the southside. He knew that Grey wasn't the best with money just based on how much he gambled overseas, so it made sense to him why he was living in this dump of an apartment complex.

Jay flashed his badge at the person who worked "security" and then made his way to the third floor, gun already drawn. He redialed Voight's number and held the phone between his shoulder and his ear. "What's your ETA?" he asked, creeping closer and closer to the apartment.

"Two minutes out."

Then, Jay heard an ear-piercing scream coming from the apartment where Grey was supposed to be. It sounded like a woman. It sounded like Hailey. "Sarge, I'm going in."

"Halstead, do you have protective gear?"

"Yeah, I grabbed it when I went looking for Y/N. Don't worry, it's on." Then, he ended the call.

"Chicago PD!" Jay yelled and then kicked in the door.

"Jay! Get out of here! He's gonna--"

"Shut it, bitch!" Zach twisted Hailey's arm even more, causing her to scream out in pain.

"Listen, Grey, I know you're pissed at me for what I did all those years ago, but Hailey didn't do any of that. You gotta let her go, man," Jay pleaded, gun trained on Zach.

"She was supposed to kill you!" He moved the gun so that it was now against Hailey's temple.

She whimpered, terrified. He had thrown her gun across the room, so she had no way of defending herself, not that she'd try with a gun against her head. She knew what to do in these situations, which was, wait until a moment of weakness and then get him. Or, wait for backup.

"You want me, right?" Jay asked, putting his hands above his head, gun still in hand. "Take the gun off her and point it at me."

"No!" But all Hailey got in response was Grey digging the gun further into her temple.

"Drop your gun," Grey ordered.

"Okay." Jay dropped the magazine out of his gun and then set it down on the floor.

"Now kick it away."

"Kicking it away," Jay narrated as he kicked his gun across the room.

Only then did Grey take the gun away from Hailey and point it at Jay. "Any last words Halstead?"

Now was Hailey's chance. He was distracted so Hailey swung around and knocked the gun from his hand. The minute the gun was on the ground, Jay jumped into action, tackling Grey as Hailey run at the guns, making sure that Grey couldn't get them. Jay flipped Grey around and pulled out his cuffs. "Get up," he told him after he was finished handcuffing him.

"Chicago-- Oh," Ruzek said as he and Voight entered the apartment to see Grey already handcuffed.

"Let's go get him booked," Voight said. Then, he looked at Hailey. "You should probably get to the hospital just to get checked out."

"I'm fine, really," she protested. "And I don't really want to spend the night in the hospital. It's the least I can do to help Jay with paperwork anyway."

"I'll call Will," Jay said as he handed Zach Grey off to Voight.

***

"Where's Jay?" you asked Will as you walked into the kitchen. You had cried enough and now needed to rehydrate.

"He went to go find Hailey."

That's when it hit you. I needed the money to get away from my boyfriend. Shit, he was hurting her.

"It's all my fault! If he hurts her, it's all my fault, Will!" you yelled.

"Hey, hey, no it's not," he said, taking the water glass from your hand. "We don't even know if he's physically abusing her. It could be emotional abuse. We could be wrong altogether. Don't worry about it."

You sighed and took the glass back to get some water. "Thaks, but that doesn't make me feel any better."

"I think there's hockey on," Will said, changing the subject. "Let's go watch that."

"Yeah, I guess. I'll be right back." You finished your water and put the glass in the dishwasher. Then, you went to your room to grab a blanket.

When you looked on your bed, you saw it was missing something. Kitty. Quickly, you grabbed your backpack and dumped out its contents. "Shit," you muttered as you realized you had left it on the couch of the breakroom at the district.

You ran downstairs, blanket forgotten. "Will! We gotta go to the--" He held up a hand, effectively silencing you. It was only then you saw that he was on the phone.

"Yeah, it's in my car. Yeah, I'll bring Y/N. We're on our way," Will said to whoever was on the other end and then hung up.

"What was that about?" you asked. You had a right to know because, from what you had heard, you had to go somewhere with Will.

"We gotta go to the district. Jay wants me to have a look at Hailey's shoulder, says she doesn't want to go to the hospital this late at night."

"Oh, okay. Can't be that bad because if it was broken or something Voight would make her go to the ED right?" you asked, partially blaming yourself.

"I'd hope so. Let's go."

You were walking up the stairs into the bullpen fifteen minutes later when one of your worst nightmares came true.

"Hey, did some kid leave their stuffed animal here?" Ruzek asked, holding up Kitty as he exited the breakroom.

You and Will shared a look that you hoped nobody else saw as you made your way over to Jay and Hailey. You were about to open your mouth and admit it was yours because you figured, if you didn't do it in the next few seconds, Jay would do it for you. But were surprisingly saved by Hailey.

"It's mine," Hailey lied. "My mom gave it to me and I wanted to get it out of the apartment before it became a crime scene."

"Oh," Ruzek said, furrowing his eyebrows and handing it to her. "Here you go I guess."

"Thanks."

When he turned around, Hailey handed it to you and you quickly shoved Kitty into one of Jay's desk drawers.

"Y/N, I just wanna apologize--"

"No, you were in trouble and trying your best to get out of it." Then, you stooped down and whispered in her ear, since she was sitting down, waiting for Will to examine her. "And you told Adam that that was yours, so it's the least I can do."

"So, we're all good?" she asked.

"We're all good," you confirmed.

"Now, let's take a look at that shoulder," Will said, unzipping his doctor's bag.

After a few minutes, he declared that it was just a light sprain, so it should be fine, even though it might hurt like hell.

"Good, because I need her to be okay," Voight said, exiting his office.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked. It's not like she was one of his detectives.

"You helped us solve this case and led us to Grey. This wouldn't have been possible without you, Hailey," Voight told her.

"Thank you, Sergeant."

"Since Kim's on furlough right now and Erin left to go to New York, this unit is short...especially on female cops. What you did earlier, disarming Grey, you proved you can handle it here. So, what do you say? You wanna stay?"

"I'd be honored," Hailey answered, breaking out into a smile.

"Welcome to Intelligence, Detective Upton."

A/N: That was long! Sorry, it's taken me so long to update! I got a few ideas and never stuck with them until this one! Please vote and comment and tell me what you thought! Do you like more upstead centric stories or do you like the ones that mainly focus on Y/N and the Halstead bros? Also on my wattpad @ malewk172

[socratoteles]

A year to get Ph.D in letting go

The last time I was here, I wrote that perhaps it was time for me to go out and just enjoy the world. And amid the global pandemic, I sort of managed to do that. It was such a lifesaver in a year of goodbyes. I`ll get to that, but let me begin with my coronavirus scare.

On March 4 last year, I was away in Bandung, aware but not worried of some obscure virus that triggered a total lockdown in some Chinese cities. That very same day was also the time when my colleagues came in contact with a man who later confirmed of having contracted COVID-19.

That was how close I was of contracting the virus. Had I not taken a paid leave to write last year’s essay in the city where I was born, chances were high that I was another case as well, at that early stage of the pandemic too. I`m still familiar with the helplessness that came after I checked in to a hospital only to being denied the test (the nurse reasoned that the contact with my colleagues, who might catch the virus from the confirmed man, cannot be categorized as close contact).

And that experience, of confusion and fear of infecting loved ones, left a lasting impression that shaped my behavior going forward. After all, it takes a pandemic to make wearing mask and washing hands could made the difference between life and death.

Covid-induced isolation meant that I spent most of my time being holed up in my room for the past 12 months. To this day the side effects of this solitary existence is still beyond my full grasp. On one hand, this situation had brought out my inner resiliency, resourcefulness and adaptability in the long days and night when things were just so dark. On the other hand, it also forced me to deal with unresolved traumas and numerous intrusive thoughts, which I will get into later.

People get really creative during the long locked-down days, spending it doing viral social media challenges one after the other. Videoconferencing become a thing on its own and for some reason loads of folks played a game named Among Us too, perhaps to remind themselves of the interactions cruelly torn apart because of the virus.

There was also a newfound awareness on class too, because the coronavirus disproportionately affected different individuals with different income level. At least on my part, I was lucky that essential workers (the pandemic elevated the phrase into such a buzzword) near my place were safe and somehow never contracted the virus. It is worth mentioning that I definitely cannot survive this long if not for the minimarket workers, ride-hailing drivers and dozens of cooks, all of whom must have worked in long hours, despite knowing the risk, just to keep their families fed.

Others, however, were not so lucky. the SARS-CoV-2 had infected more than a million Indonesians a year after it was officially detected in these shores. Millions have lost their jobs as economic activities ground to a halt. The place I currently work was not an exception. Massive layoffs would have happened in my office had the shareholders have enough money to properly compensate their workers.

It was an obviously eye-opening experience to calculate my own severance pay and make sure I could survive on that for as long as possible. The prospect of losing your income during the pandemic –which should be that particular time for anyone to hold on to their what-ifs money– was really awful.

This is the paragraph where I say that I wish nothing but the best for those who left the company simply because they deserve nothing less than that.

But there was another reason why I signed up for a help from professional therapist last year. In the latter part of last year, things got very, very grim. At the risk of oversimplification, let’s just say that I was unable to express my feelings properly to a girl that I really liked, right at the most critical moment when probably both of us needed support from each other. She eventually left with another guy.

Days before that fateful event happened, I was quietly bearing my own burden. After years of convincing myself that I was okay, I was, in fact, not okay, at least mentally. Years of trauma have caught up. It’s too personal to even spell that out here but I`ll just quote this Youtuber just to describe a fitting metaphor. 

“You see, human identity is like a house of card. One that’s always expanding. A story that is ever developing and always referred back to because every memory becomes a new card. Trauma is when a card doesn’t fit because the experience itself is so painful that it’s incompatible with everything else and if you become obsessed with making it fit the whole house of cards can fall apart and you lose the confidence to build anything new.”

Basically, my house of cards came crashing down, hard. At a time, it reduced me into this insecure soul who were unsure that people will accept me for who I was.

The last time I felt this way was a couple years back when my parent’s divorce was formalized. A girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend at that time too. Apparently, the universe has a cruel sense of timing to combine existential crisis with a relationship one.

The road to recovery was rocky, to say the least. I know something fundamental must be addressed, hence the therapy session.

I`m grateful for the company of my friends, either offline or online. (yes, I had become quite loose in terms of isolation because I know I had to prioritize my mental health; COVID-19 be damned). I`m also glad to say that because I talked with my friends about this issue, some of them were also encouraged to seek professional help.

At the height of my despair, I watched La Grande Bellezza (probably for a half a dozen time already) again and found this quote, spoken by the protagonist Jep Gambardella:

“We’re all on the brink of despair. We can only look each other in the face, keep each other company, kid each other a bit. Don’t you agree?”

Someone was kind enough to upload the entire scene on Youtube.

I decided that all bets are off, so I purchased books, many of which had been on my to-read list for years because I know I`ll have to read it when I search for a catharsis. That was how I finally read the Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus, from which I managed to understand what he meant by the absurdities of life. Into the Wild, excellently written by Jon Krakauer, broke my heart too because of Chris Mccandles’ tales somehow mimicked my own, minus the grand adventure part. I finally read Alan Watts too, from whom I learned that efforts to avoid from pain is painful in itself.

And music, a constant part of my life as I know it, helps too. I was saved because Fleet Foxes released a life-affirming record that fittingly spoke about relief, gratitude, and seasonal rebirth. During the darkest days I was just alone with my guitar in my room, terribly singing out the words that these musicians carved out of their soul to release my emotional burden. I was particularly grateful for being reminded time and again that “no one gets it right” but “we’re all supposed to try”.

I made a playlist containing songs that for me served as a reminder to be gentle for myself. You can check that here.

All of that was a roundabout way to say that I indeed, was able to go out amid the pandemic. On one afternoon I just said fuck it, I need to go out and see things. That led me to a weekly socially-distanced walk around the neighborhood, which was therapeutic in itself because the walks allowed me to be fully present and be sensitive to the sights and sounds and smells around me. Nothing is more liberating that allowing your feet to go where it you to go.

I don’t have the full answers yet, but as I wrote his essay, I`m glad to be able to say that I have rebuild my house of cards, with some of the bad cards included as well. It was quite a bumpy ride but when I looked back, this particular tweet was eerily prescient because it rings true today as was the day I tweeted it.

But I walked away from the depths of that bottomless pit not only with knowledge, but also of understanding the parts that made me who I am. I`m also humbled after I saw the abyss for the second time because it suggests that there might be another time when I found myself on the edge of despair.

I`ll never forget the fact that these hard-won lessons came on the back of years of pain, grief and suffering. But it also came on the heels of moments of simple walk in the setting sun and feeling the breeze on the beach too. In fact, I have made it my mission going forward to acknowledge both good and bad things as they are. Because forcing yourself to remember all the bright things when you were in the dark, and vice versa, is a form of self-torture. I hope this essay somehow do that mission justice.

I have said goodbyes to many things in life as the crisis comes and goes, but 2020 goodbyes were simply different. So much so that I thought I have a PhD in letting go already, however absurd that idea is.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ruby & Cosmo

Ruby: Dying to know is every date colour coded? ❤️

Cosmo: Oh, God 😅 How unintentionally cringe

Cosmo: That sums up how well it went, sadly

Ruby: the quick reply had me thinking you were back early or answering in the middle of dinner

Cosmo: 🤫

Cosmo: I’d never!

Cosmo: It was a favour and I think that showed

Cosmo: She’s my cousin’s friend and just got dumped, sweet girl but perhaps not ready to be great company

Ruby: explains the 🌹

Cosmo: Not very personal or too basic?

Ruby: a nice try if it was your first date ever but I know it’s not

Cosmo: Thank God I didn’t get another bouquet 😏

Cosmo: They weren’t buy one get one free though, before you say

Ruby: they looked expensive

Ruby: she would’ve felt guilty throwing them back in your face

Cosmo: I told you I weren’t texting under the table, why would she need to?

Ruby: you told me why, they’re impersonal & basic

Ruby: & heartbreak makes you unhinged

Cosmo: I wouldn’t call her unhinged

Cosmo: at least not to her face, right

Ruby: 😅

Ruby: or your cousin’s

Ruby: Are you staying out in town or going home to change?

Cosmo: I don’t fancy showing up in the club in this

Cosmo: never mind hearing what my friends would have to say

Cosmo: What are you up to?

Ruby: the VIP area has seen worse, you don’t look like you raided the Gucci sale rail, eyes closed

Ruby: & your friends have worn worse, but I won’t say it to their faces

Ruby: I’m waiting for my own friends to be done making their own questionable outfit choices as usual

Cosmo: Careful, that was almost a compliment and not just a drag of the lads

Cosmo: not undeserved on their end but what did I do to make you decide to be nice to me?

Cosmo: besides entertain you with my dating woes whilst they redo their makeup, again

Ruby: You know how to dress, it’s a fact

Ruby: & I didn’t decide to be nice, it just happened

Cosmo: Not that you’re not usually nice in general

Cosmo: but here I am, feeling special, like 💖🤩

Cosmo: It’s also a fact, though not an impressive one, that I’m not lame enough to go in for that negging bullshit, so whatever I end up doing, calling you a bitch ain’t on the agenda

Ruby: there you were down in the dumps about your disaster date, I thought I’d try to help

Ruby: I wouldn’t, it only works for Mason when everyone’s too busy watching his feet move to care about his mouth & that’s not the audience you’ve got atm

Cosmo: I think I’ll survive

Cosmo: but I appreciate it

Cosmo: I’ve seen him get in trouble for his mouth plenty of times on the pitch

Cosmo: but referees aren’t ones to be sweet-talked so…

Ruby: your expensive roses are wasted on them 🥀

Cosmo: That is the real tragedy 💔

Cosmo: I reckon 🍷 could work on your dad though, whaddya think?

Ruby: aren’t we beyond bribes? I thought we were

Cosmo: You don’t have to go up for contract renewals

Cosmo: but I was joking, so don’t tell him he’s on a promise there

Ruby: oh yeah, it’s a joke you being worried you won’t get renewed

Ruby: he doesn’t shut up about you after a few 🍷’s with your dad

Cosmo: Sorry you’ve had to witness/hear that

Cosmo: can’t help my case

Ruby: it wouldn’t be realistic to entertain you or let you entertain me if he wasn’t on board

Cosmo: No?

Ruby: secrecy & sneaking around would be impossible unless we could both drop what we were doing at a moment’s notice, which we can’t

Cosmo: True

Cosmo: Neither of us has the time for that

Ruby: or the anonymity

Cosmo: You aren’t wrong

Ruby: 💖🤩 back at me?

Ruby: you’re being agreeable, above & beyond the Sunday roast standard you set when everyone was listening in

Cosmo: Agreeable from you I can take

Cosmo: I didn’t know any of you guys were going to be there, so if I wasn’t on top form

Cosmo: I’d love to have a second chance to do it better, of course

Cosmo: Somewhere more exciting than family dinner

Cosmo: and no impersonal and basic 🌹s

Ruby: I’d love to skip the club tonight, it stopped being exciting forever ago

Ruby: there’s your chance

Cosmo: Alright

Cosmo: I’ll make something happen and I’ll send you the place and the dress code

Ruby: pastel colours wash me out

Cosmo: What kind of place would be pastels only? 🤔

Ruby: [name drop somewhere boujee that you’ve been probably with your mum and godmother lol]

Ruby: you wasted the ❤️ on the wrong girl 💔

Cosmo: She wasn’t wearing red

Ruby: it was never going to work out

Cosmo: That might be for the best

Ruby: tbd

Ruby: but I’m not feeling like I’ll cry or talk about any of my exes so it’ll be better for you

Cosmo: And for you

Cosmo: not that you’re letting me be impressive with a bar that low but you know

Ruby: you’ll get over or under it if you want to

Cosmo: If I couldn’t rise to the occasion your dad definitely wouldn’t stand for it

Ruby: I won’t either

Cosmo: tbd

Cosmo: I heard

Ruby: another girl has beat me to denying you everything, I have no choice but to switch it up to keep things interesting

Cosmo: Has hard-to-get worked since the days of negging?

Cosmo: You’ve got all the choices, and no need to play any sort of game with me

Cosmo: Let’s have a good time

Ruby: it might have worked for people who want a different reputation than I do

Ruby: that’d wash me out too, the whole projection of intense cold bitch energy

Ruby: a good time is more doable

Cosmo: It wouldn’t get you very far, I understand

Cosmo: We all have to be some type of way to get to where we need to be

Ruby: yeah & talent has to be backed up with 😁✨

Cosmo: A winning personality, of course

Ruby: if I don’t have that both of my parents & coach are going to lose it, definitely

Cosmo: Well, you don’t need to worry about that, from my perspective

Ruby: from my POV neither of us will be worrying until the alarm wakes us early tomorrow & it’ll be too late to stress it by then

Ruby: the good time’ll have already happened

Cosmo: I’ll drink to that

Cosmo: [something that’s between the restaurant moment we just took Savannah to and the normal clubs they would go to, idk what that would look like, like a club that’s a bit sassier than the beyond standard ones footballers and WAGs would hang in]

Cosmo: but I won’t start without you, like

Ruby: not counting the 🍷 if the 🍝 soaked it up

Ruby: but what do you want me to wear? 🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎

Cosmo: ❤️ off the table then

Ruby: the bar hasn’t fallen through the floor, I’m not okaying you wearing the outfit you chose for her & me dressing to match it

Cosmo: 😅 I’ve gone home but alright

Cosmo: I want to see what you come up with, actually

Cosmo: I’ll show you I’ve got better than the jumper, don’t worry

Ruby: I’ll do better than a roast with the fam, talk about a low bar

Cosmo: I think you’re probably incapable of looking bad

Ruby: try keeping me up all night & you’ll see

Cosmo: I won’t be the first or the last to show up to practice feeling less than 💯 … are all the other ice skaters perfect 😇s?

Ruby: I’m not giving any details of who isn’t, you’re a date down tonight as is, I’m not getting ditched for someone even more 😈

Cosmo: About how that looks

Cosmo: ‘cos I know

Cosmo: We aren’t going to post anything are we?

Cosmo: I’m not looking to add to the poor girl’s 💔 and I know it’s a dick move to not even wait ‘til tomorrow

Ruby: 📵

Ruby: getting into a fight with your cousin over me is even more Romeo & Juliet than sneaking around behind my dad’s back, we all know how it ended

Ruby: drama in the routine is fine but off the ice it’s not cute

Cosmo: Drama on the pitch depends how you feel about diving

Cosmo: but I appreciate that

Ruby: how I feel about diving depends how much my brother has got to me & I want to get him back for it

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 depending on the day

Ruby: 🟥 usually

Cosmo: I feel that

Cosmo: about my own, usually, not necessarily yours but I can see the how and why there too

Ruby: yours made an impression, not at all good

Cosmo: That’s his speciality

Ruby: 😬 brothers bring the mood down when they’re ours

Cosmo: Neither of them’s invited

Ruby: it’ll make a change not to see mine out

Cosmo: That’s unlucky

Ruby: but you’re on to a winner with the location, congrats

Cosmo: I had a good feeling

Ruby: I’ve got one too

Cosmo: 💖🤩

Ruby: a compliment to last until I get there

Cosmo: tbd 👋

Ruby: ❤️

Cosmo: [so obviously this night is gonna go better than the awkward date, though that’s not hard soz Savannah, but also a step above the standard club moment of every weekend hence we stay out longer than we usually do when we’ve got an early start tomorrow]

Ruby: [and equally as obviously if you found enough to talk about when you were around all your annoying relatives for that roast I’m not worried about you struggling for a convo tonight, you’re both cute and have things in common and there’s clearly a vibe]

Cosmo: [I don’t think anything needs to happen tonight but it’s obvious you like each other ‘cos you could both be bothered to show and do this]

Ruby: [agreed it feels legit to who you both are and your priorities to wanna take things a bit slower than that, like it’s clearly unlike her already to do this when you were literally on a date earlier and staying out later than planned is also something neither of you do a lot so]

Cosmo: [yes, we’re not that kind of boy, not saying you’ve never slept with anyone obvs lmao but we’re not a different gal every weekend energy at all]

Ruby: [likewise neither calling this gal a nun or a slag but I doubt she's been out with that many people cos of a) her busy schedule and b) the lowkey famous dad and brother thing that would make some lads wanna try it on for that reason]

Cosmo: [exactly dr phil, you wanna skip to the AM of it all?]

Ruby: [absolutely boo]

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 for keeping you out past your bedtime then?

Ruby: Are you willing to take credit or am I blaming a messy friend’s man troubles?

Cosmo: That depends

Cosmo: we would have to find a friend we’d mutually not mind throwing under the bus and I’m not sure if my brain is capable rn

Ruby: it wouldn’t be taxing to mine to think up someone believable, if you’re keen to show up to my door with 💐 & fool my dad that it’s the first move you’ve made

Ruby: for rep’s sake

Cosmo: The 💔 is all around

Cosmo: a hangover will have you feeling that way

Cosmo: are YOU keen for me to show up at your door with 💐s, that’s the real question here

Ruby: I’ll start getting hangovers when I’m old, it’s a scare tactic before, not a real thing

Ruby: impressing my dad doesn’t necessarily impress me

Cosmo: 😂

Cosmo: That’s alright, I already have impressed him, so it’s definitely not my intention here

Ruby: let’s hear what your intentions are

Cosmo: Now you’re bragging about how un-hungover you are

Cosmo: How about you let me set up a second date and we can talk about it then?

Ruby: a brag would have a selfie attached, I was reassuring you I’m not suffering mild alcohol poisoning like most of our friends

Ruby: a second date for when?

Cosmo: I’m pleased to hear it

Cosmo: it doesn’t make for a pretty sight

Cosmo: [pisstakey shot of some of the lads dying in the changing room or wherever like ew lol]

Cosmo: Send me your calendar and I’ll see?

Ruby: 😬 lovely [but send him something similar of the girls obvs and then your calendar of course, I’m cackling because what if the only time they can both do is tonight so that looks really extra when you’re both not]

Cosmo: They’d kill us for that 😏

Cosmo: [we so could, lmao okay]

Cosmo: Well, it looks like either we double down and go for tonight or we give it a rain check and see in a couple weeks 🤔

Ruby: tonight works for me but it’s you who’d be doing the work to think of somewhere else with wow factor

Cosmo: Undefeated with two wins sounds a lot better than one

Ruby: yeah & I don’t want to talk about weeks on the bench

Cosmo: Be a bit of a dirty tactic to put the blame on you for not going out with me tonight if I get benched but

Cosmo: If it works I’m not above it

Cosmo: So, what kind of place are you looking to avoid tonight?

Ruby: do we need to avoid anywhere or flash photography? your cousin & the girl they forced you to date can’t stay mad forever

Cosmo: No, we don’t have to

Ruby: 💖🤩

Cosmo: Understood

Cosmo: I’ll get back to you

Ruby: 🚫🍷🥃🍸🍹 can be tonight’s rule if you need a break

Cosmo: I don’t

Cosmo: I just needed to know what you want to do, and now I do and I’m thinking

Ruby: I know you don’t need it to have or be fun, me either hopefully

Cosmo: I think you’re fun

Cosmo: and it’s definitely tragic if you have to rely on something like that, that’s not me

Ruby: it’s nobody I know or would count as worth knowing

Cosmo: Totally

Cosmo: Okay, I’m going on the pitch, send you deets later

Ruby: don’t mess up or I’m going to cancel tonight & I don’t want to so that’ll be us both in bad moods 😘

[oh-so-scenarios]

Hello Again...❦| 01

⤳ Tʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʜɪs ᴍᴀɴʏ ʏᴇᴀʀs, Mʀ. Pᴀʀᴋ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴍᴀɴʏ ғᴀᴄᴇs. Bᴜᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʜᴇ'ᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴇᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

⤳ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ!Jɪᴍɪɴ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⤳ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ!ᴀᴜ, (ᴀᴛ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ) sᴍᴜᴛ

A/N: Ok! I have decided that the POV’s will switch. Sometime’s it’ll be Y/n, other times It’ll be Jimin! Also, if you haven’t read chapter 00, please do so! 

***Please ignore any errors! 

(Word Count: 4.24K)

Previous | Next ◀ ▶  Series Index | Masterlist

JIMIN:

There’s a storm raging outside. The rain is knocking on the window of the library in my home. The wind is howling and lightning lit up the poorly lit corner I sat in.

Just as a storm went on outside, a storm went on inside. 

I watch my guests zip around the library. They’re pulling all the ancient books from the shelves, leaving a disorganized mess behind them. They are rambling things to themselves in a frantic manner. They were paying me no attention as I sat at the small table in the corner of the sitting area. My elbow was propped on the table and my cheek rested on my hand. 

I watch in silence, tuning in and out while I get lost in my thoughts. The tapping of the rain on the window was all that was keeping me grounded. I don’t know what to say, or what to feel. 

Those same eyes. That same smile. What in the world? Though her eyes were no longer that alluring honey color, they held the same feeling. Y/n stared at me like I was a stranger. Her uneasy smile and stiff posture revealed her uncertainty and the tense atmosphere was confusing. 

But my heart hammered in my chest all the same. I can’t be sure if it was the shock of seeing that face and hearing that voice again, or if it was anger boiling deep within me.

The woman who stabbed me in the back. The one who gained my trust, only with the intent to betray me, was living right under my nose this whole time. But when I came face to face with her, I could feel the rage I thought I was carrying this whole time. 

Y/n, the woman who I thought was the love of my life and that was going to rule with me, blinked at me, oblivious to her presence shook my core. 

“Your highness.” A gentle voice called out to me. I heard the voice but couldn’t respond for a few moments. I am stunned, and my head is buzzing but it also feels empty.

My eyes look to my left where Jisoo stood with a shy smirk. A hand rested on her hip and she grew in confidence while I eyed her. She’s beautiful, and though she was only a Stronghold, her crafts in dark works were powerful. 

Jisoo is a distant friend I’ve known for more than a century and she has always been someone I enjoy having around, but marriage?

My uncle has become desperate to marry me to someone if he wants me to be with a stronghold demon. 

Stronghold demons are lowly demons. They are weaker; often the contract demons, incubus demons, and demons that possess humans. 

Demons have roamed the earth since the very beginning, watching as humans evolve and struggle with the problems they faced. Some problems that some would look up at the big man and ask why, when it was really our doing. It is all about status and power. That is how it was set from the beginning yet everyone has a purpose. 

I am a Second Hand, also known as a Prince of a Fallen Angel. Before any type of demons existed, there were fallen angels. Fallen Angels are not demons. They are not the same as us. They are more powerful than we are and do not dwell on the earth. They do bigger things. Second hands were created from a fallen Angel. A specific fallen angel.

There is only a handful of us who have their own reign. I am the Second Hand of Chaos who came directly from the most well known fallen angel of them all. We simply call him big L. Everyone knows who he is. I am one of 5 who came directly from that specific fallen angel. Leaving us to be the only Second Hands. I was the first one and would argue that I am the most powerful. 

I avoid the others, only running across them a few times in the past centuries. We are not a team, our work has nothing to do with each other so there is no need to contact each other. The only one who reaches out to me is Hoseok, the Second Hand of Despair. We were almost friends for some years.

I don’t care for the others. 

Second Hands were only created from that particular fallen angel. The other demons created from other fallen angels who aren’t big L are Powers. Powers are demonic beings of their name. They are demons of powers. There are nature demons, witchcraft demons and more. Though they are below Second Hands in the hierarchy, their strength has range. 

Some can be just as weak as Strongholds, while others sit high with their power nearing Second Hands.

From Powers come to Dominions. Dominions are the first demons to not come directly from a fallen angel. Dominions are territorial demons who were Strongholds that moved up in power. They are often connected deeply to land. They tend to have a clan following that goes by region, hence them being territorial demons. 

The Busan Dominion can be overthrown by a strong demon. 

Strongholds are the lowest of the low demons. Strongholds are humans who were once alive and have signed away their souls or became a demon through other means. Dominions only appeared once Strongholds gathered together and others grew in power.  Once a demon dies, they do not reincarnate or even go to hell. They simply do not exist anymore. 

This is why seeing Y/n, who was once a Witchcraft Power, as a human is throwing the people around me into a frenzy. 

I glance at my uncle, my focus drawn to the specific dark purple book in his hands. The years of dust that accumulated on it were brushed off with a careless hand. My uncle opened the book, his brows furrowed and he looked up to meet my already waiting gaze. 

“Why is the Witchcraft Scroll looking like this Jimin?” I knew what he was talking about before he turned the open book to face me. I didn’t move from my spot, staring at the blank pages he displayed to me. 

My mother, though she’s not truly my mother, rushed forward gasping loudly. 

“Jimin can see it. He told me. Right?” She grabs the book from my uncle’s hands looking between the void pages and myself. 

Witchcraft Scroll, a book that holds the oldest and most robust spells that Witchcraft Powers have. One can’t forget they own such a book. Not when many Witchcraft Powers arrive at my door asking for it. Some strongholds and Dominions even poke me with a question about the book. 

It could be because I know nothing about the works of witchcraft that I did not truly understand the weight and power of that book.

“Jimin?” My mother’s calls fell deaf to my ears as my thoughts were tuning out every sense. 

“Jimin! Hello?” She says again.

●

●

“Jimin?” Y/n called out as if she didn’t already have my attention. She ran her fingers across the spines of the books on the shelf. Her dark hanbok is not something you see at this time. She stands out wherever she goes. She keeps to herself and though she doesn’t smile often, her eyes are always kind. 

I can’t say we’re friends, but the more I see her, the more I miss her when she is gone. She is...fascinating. A powerful witch who silently commands respect but is still so humble and gentle. 

My uncle’s words of finding a bride echo in my head as I watch her intently. 

“Jimin, do you have an empty spellbook? A thick one?” She only kept her eyes on me for as long as she spoke, looking back to the bookshelves. 

I sigh, a grin pulling at my lips. 

“You say you find me annoying,” I begin, my teasing tone causing her to look at me. She rolls her eyes and moves away from the bookshelves, walking towards where I stood. I leaned against the larger desk just some meters from Y/n.

My white dress shirt and khakis became my home clothing, as I didn’t have time to change once coming home from my endeavors

“You say you find me annoying,” I repeat, “yet you are always in my manor, trailing behind Hoseok with that same frown on your lips.” 

She takes slow dragging steps my way, her eyebrows raised, the corner of her lips turning up slightly. 

“If I am correct, when I don’t follow Hoseok here, you question him about my absence. I have no choice but to appear, it would be rude to leave you longing for me.” Her voice grows quieter as she looks up at me under her eyelashes. 

It feels like my entire being is burning up, as she stops in front of me. A wave of lavender tickles my nose and my gaze moves across her face. Her soft eyes, the beautiful features of her cheeks, and her lips. Oh, how her lips look tempting. 

Have her lips always looked so kissable? 7 years of bickering playful with Y/n and I am only now being blown away by her beauty. Of course, Y/n has always been beautiful. There are many beautiful women in this world. I have been surrounded and pursued by many women. 

Some demons, some humans. I laid my eyes upon many beauties so why do I suddenly feel blown away? 

“Are you using a charm on me?” I am breathless when I speak next, realizing we stood in a comfortable silence only gazing into each other eyes. 

“I would never. You know that.” She answers. I almost cringe at the traces of offense in her words. Did she think I was accusing her?

“Why? Do you feel weird?” Her words held concern now as she looked my body up and down. She looks back at me waiting for an answer but for once I felt...giddy. 

I clear my throat, shuffling to the side and walking around the desk. This put her on the other side of the desk, staring at me in confusion. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, ignoring my questions.

“I’m fine Y/n, I just have a lot of things to deal with. I have Dominions coming to me with complaints against each other. I must deal with it.” I bent down to open a few drawers, knowing that I had some blank spellbooks. 

I finally found one, a thick one like she wanted. It was a beautiful dark purple, the material almost leather. I grab it and set it on the desk with a thud. 

“Perfect!” She whispers and teaches forward, opening the book to stare at the blank pages. She closes the book again, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. I keen on her, watching with eagerness. Y/n doesn’t use her powers often, but when she does….it’s something you can’t look away from.

 A demon of her strength that isn’t power-hungry? Lovely. 

When she opens her eyes they are a crimson red. She looks down at the book, takes her left hand, licks her thumb and places it onto the book. The book catches into flames, but the fire doesn’t damage the book. 

She opens the book and stares at the flame and the flames turn black before disappearing, only leaving a thick grey smoke. When she looks back up, her eyes are gold again. I look back down at the book and there are now words written in the book.

I leaned over to take a peak, yet the words did not make sense. They were weird symbols and characters from a language I’ve never seen. 

“What is that supposed to be?” I ask.

She snickers, and it might be the best sound I have ever heard.

“It’s all the spells and charms I have made and gathered from my travels in the last 200 years.” She flips a page, skimming it a bit. 

“It also holds some secrets people would probably want to get their hands on.” She says a matter of fact. She closes the book and picks it up, holding it to her chest.

“Only those I trust can see the ink.” She adds and closes her eyes as if to catch her breath from a tiring activity. 

She opens her eyes and that same old frown is on her lips again, “And only those I love and I can read the text.” 

“Who in this wretched world do you love?” My words come out in a teasing manner.

“Other than myself? Mhh...let’s wait and see.” She raises an eyebrow at me, “See you around.”

She turns to leave but I can’t help but call out.

“Y/n!” 

She spins around quickly, “Yes?”

“1931,” I pause, “I am to find a bride by 1931.”

She nods, “Ah yes. There is much talk of it among the female Powers and Dominions. Even some Strongholds are interested. You have 20 years to find yourself a bride, it’s only 1911. You have much time”

I kept my eyes on her, running my fingers through my hair as she waited patiently for me to speak.

“What are your thoughts?”

“I don’t have any.” She answers quickly. I smirk, earning a small smile from her. 

Cute.

She turns around to leave only to turn back to me, “I do have one thought.” She quickly set the book back on the table. 

“Keep this safe for me.”

●

◌

“Jimin, the text is still there right? That witch’s secrets?” My uncle stood beside my mother who was also looking at me for an answer. I was still dazed, lost in the scene of my past. 

I look at my mother, my uncle, and Jisoo. I can’t be sure what my face looks like right now, but I know I’m slightly annoyed. 

Maybe they don’t understand? Are they small-minded? My uncle, who isn’t really my uncle, the Dominion for Seoul. I’ve known him for longer than I can remember. Centuries have passed and this man has guided me and helped me to make correct decisions.

My “mother” is a stronghold demon that worked for me at some point. She also became like family, being by my side for many years. If I was human, she’d probably be my mother. We look similar, hearing things about our resemblance from both humans and other demons. 

I can’t expect them to understand. I can’t expect them to truly understand the stress I am feeling at this moment. They know they are stressed because demons cannot reincarnate and Y/n was there...reincarnated as a human. 

But I am stressed not only because it seems a demon has reincarnated…but I am being reminded of what was done years ago. I am being taken back to 1931. I am angry, disgusted and ashamed. It is 2020 and the emotions are still as raw as they were 90 years ago.

“Your highness. You said you could see the text right?” Jisoo said, referring to what my mother said.

I sigh, standing from my seat with my hands in my pockets. 

“I can’t see the text anymore cause there is no text,” I answer slowly. 

“I’m sorry what?” My uncle hisses. He has always been curious about Y/n’s book. Uncle always wanted ways to rise in power, I could see it in his eyes. I’d never tell him what was in the book if there was still ink to read, but that’s something I decide for his own good.

But I told them all my books were open to them, so I can’t be surprised to see that Y/n’s book is what he searched for.

“There is no more text uncle,” I hiss the last word, “Do you know how dark magic and crafts operate? Why do you expect that the text would still be there?”

I narrow my eyes at him, resentment bubbling up within me. 

“You should have sat down, read the book and copied down what it said!” He snaps, and whirls around to stalk back to the bookshelves.

“You should have thought that through!” I call out, my voice echoing in the vast library. It almost sounded like I was singing. in a mocking manner, while I walked closer to the familiar desk that sat in the middle of the library.

“You should have thought that through while you were manipulating me, uncle,” I scoff humorlessly, “But I guess we both ran off our emotions those days.”

“Is this why you refused all those who came to you for the books’ knowledge?”

“Uncle, if the text was so important, maybe you shouldn’t have pushed me so hard to kill her!” My voice shook the room, leaving a tense silence.

“It was the appropriate action for the offense she committed Jimin! Don’t let that human girl make you regret your decisions! You acted correctly!”

“Oh spare me that bullshit uncle! When Y/n was killed, the text disappeared and went with her!” I yell, my voice dropping to a whisper for my next words, “She may have been a traitor, but Y/n wasn’t stupid.”

~!~

I stroll through the house hallways. I don’t know where I’m going but I keep walking. 

Is that really Y/n reincarnated? The face is the same, the first name is the same….everything is the same, except she is human. 

I walk down the main staircase to get to the lobby area of the house. I stop a few steps short of the end of the stairs, deciding to sit down. 

I sat there for a while or a long time, I’m not sure. But I’ve seen lightning crackle through the sky more than 30 times. The action appeared like a camera flash when looking at the frosted glass window that was in the front door.

I miss the hasty footsteps that approached. My senses have been delayed since seeing Y/n. I am...in a state of shock? 

“Mr. Park?” Someone calls softly. 

I respond with a hum before I even look up to see Y/n looking at me curiously. Even as a human, she held her head high with a sort of grace and confidence I can’t explain. She stood in front of me and unlike my other staff, she didn’t show any nerves or hesitate to look me in the eyes. 

I try to be kind to humans, but oftentimes they are still intimated no matter how gentle I am. The human race wouldn’t be able to handle the existence of demons. They’ve built up their nations believing they are in control of all things, but that’s wrong.

The wars? Us. The politicians? Under our control. We simply let them walk about believing that they are on top of the world. Their egos are far too fragile.

“Mr. Park, You have missed your dinner. We weren’t able to keep to your schedule due to your guests. The kitchen staff can still cook up some dinner for you? Do your guests wish to eat as well?”

I don’t register her words, my gaze sitting on her face for way too long. 

“Sir, glaring at me won’t give me an answer.” She says after some time, “Do you want to skip dinner all together?”

I groaned, finally dropping my gaze from her and running my fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes for a moment to collect my thoughts, but I could feel her eyes on me. 

She stopped there waiting patiently, and the fake smile that was plastered on her face earlier was no more. Her face was neutral, not giving away any sort of anger or irritation while waiting for my response.

“The kitchen staff are still prepared to cook?” I questioned, glancing away from her at the floor and back to her.

“Yes, they are. It’s only 8:30, so they have not made any move to leave the kitchen yet. Also, once again, thank you for allowing us to stay the night. The storm isn’t letting up, traveling in such conditions would be impossible.”

When I only stare back in response she continues to speak, “I assume your guests will also be staying the night? Should I prepare their rooms?”

Maybe it’s because she’s technically off the clock, but the considerate and friendly attitude Mrs. Yoon said the new coordinator had is nowhere to be found.

“You talk a lot.” The words left my lips before I could think, my eyes widened as we both stared at each other.

Y/n pressed her lips together tightly, fighting back a chuckle? She looks off to the side, placing both hands on her hips. The motion oddly brings my attention down to her body. My gaze flickers back to her face just as she’s looking back at me. 

“Sir, someone has to talk! I need to know what you want to be done for dinner.” She teases, and for some reason, I want to smile. This Y/n is not very different from the Y/n I knew previously.

“Don’t worry about preparing rooms for my guests. I will prepare food for myself later, please tell the kitchen staff they don’t have to stay in the kitchen waiting for me.” I answer. 

She nods, “Understood. We will make sure to keep from disturbing your wing of the ho--”

“Jimin.” I turn around to see Jisoo descending down the stairs. Even though she called my name, she was glaring at Y/n. I almost rolled my eyes in annoyance but settled for a soft sigh. 

“Everything okay?” Her tone and the sharp eyes on Y/n held a clear accusation towards Y/n. She was wondering if Y/n was bothering me. 

“Everything is fine.” I utter, as she takes a seat beside me on the stairs. I choose to ignore the comforting hand she places on my knee, but I notice the knowing look she gives Y/n. Ugh.

“What were you talking about?” I open my mouth to answer when I notice that she’s speaking to Y/n.

“I was asking Mr. Park about his plans for dinner. He’s answered so I’ll be taking my lea--”

“When are you off work?” Jisoo cuts her off, narrowing her eyes at Y/n.

“Seven. But due to the weather, Mr. Park has allowed the staff to stay the night.” She answers plainly. She was either oblivious to the hostile actions Jisoo was directing towards her, or she didn’t mind it altogether. 

“Jisoo, can you let her go, please? The questions are unnecessary.” I nearly whine, “You can go Y/n.”

Y/n leaves quietly, her steps relaxed and slow. 

“I commend your restraint.” Jisoo giggles.

I raise an eyebrow at her, “What do you mean?” 

“You must be fuming,” She explains further, “To see her again. After how things ended, it’s a cruel fate for her to end up working under you.”

I snicker, “It must be a sort of punishment.” 

“For who? Her?”

Me.

“I don’t know, but it’s a twisted fate for sure.”

“It’s okay to express your anger Jimin,” She says in a soft tone, “you’ve been laid back since what happened. You don’t have to hold back.”

I can only shrug, “I’m feeling a lot of things right now. Anger is one of them but, we know what happened last time I acted out of anger.” 

“Your Highness, I feel like that girl working here isn’t gonna be good for you. Yes, it’s okay to hold regret but it’s been 90 years. Your decision to execute Y/n was certainly done out of anger, but your highness, she was plotting to kill you!” Jisoo looks around the lobby of the house. 

She was shocked by how loud her voice had gotten and when she spoke again, it was a whisper.

“You didn’t have to wait to hear her explanation. You didn’t owe her that, she was caught red-handed. So don’t let that weird reincarnation of her guilt you more. I say you fire her.”

“There is no need for that. She’s been working here for over a month and today is the first time I laid eyes on her. I can carry on with my life by simply ignoring her.”

“Having her here is--”

“--My decision.” I deadpan, “You will not tell me how to run my house Jisoo.”

“Okay, fair enough. This whole fiasco is distracting from the real reason we’re here.” 

“Oh,” I yelp sarcastically, “yes I almost forgot that you, uncle and mom are trying to force me into a marriage. It’s not happening.”

“Is it me?” She pouts.

“Mhh,” I think for a moment, “Yeah.” 

I watch her expression drop to a frown.

“You’re my friend Jisoo, I do not have feelings for you, I will not marry you. Also, it would make more sense if I married a Powers or a Dominion, you are only a stronghold. Those are simply the facts of it.” I stand up, placing my hands back into my pockets. 

“I-I’ll contact Seokjin about that girl’s reincarnation.” She mirrors my actions, also standing up.

My face twists up at the mention of that name, “I don’t know how you can be friends with that angel.”

She chuckles slightly, “Just try to avoid Y/n okay? Let us worry about the rest.”

“Of course,” I reply, walking down the last few steps to head towards my office. 

I can try to, but I can’t promise I will.

❦....❦....❦

Alright! How are you guys feeling about chapter one? If anything is confusing please inbox me about it! What did you think of the chapter? Also, things about the past will be revealed over time, so if it feels like pieces of the puzzle are missing, it’s okay! 

If you want to be on the tag list for this story, let me know! :)

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Two: Vase with Honesty

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung, reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.7k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 2 / 10

Warnings — language, brief mention of murder

Previous — Next

The Friday after your application is sent, you receive a response from Big Hit. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you would get a response this quickly, let alone with the contents therein.

"What the fuck!" you scream, nearly throwing your laptop across your bedroom. 

Milo storms through the door, eyes wide with panic as she scans your bedroom for signs of an emergency. "What the fuck?"

"Exactly! Look at this!" You shove the laptop in her direction, biting your nails in anticipation.

Though trepid, Milo takes the computer from your grasp and begins to scan the screen. As her eyes reach the bottom of the email, she begins to mirror your exact expression as her jaw drops and curses fly from her lips—in multiple languages.

"Oh my—What the hell, [Y/n]!"

"I know! I know," you laugh, giddy beyond what you can control. "Read further!"

"We'd love to conduct a phone interview with you at your earliest convenience. After which, if both parties choose to go forward, we would like to do an in-person interview in Seoul. [Y/n]! This is practically a yes!"

"Not quite...but it's a start!"

Milo giddily shoves the laptop back towards you, practically bouncing in place. "Call them, call them, call them!"

Two days later, you find yourself alone and on a plane bound for Seoul. The initial interview with Big Hit went extremely well. You were able to converse with a representative in both Korean and English, and went over your resume and other various technical aspects of the position.

"I have to get this out of the way," the woman spoke with a serious tone. "You're not applying for this job because you're Army, right?"

"No," you answered immediately, your voice assured. "Not at all. It's always been my dream to live in Seoul. My roommate can tell you, we've been looking for jobs for a few weeks, ever since graduation."

"Good, because I can tell you right now that we try to screen for that kind of behavior as best as we can. It's part of the interview and background check process. It has to be. I mean, it’s fine to be a fan, but for the safety of the members, we have to make sure that no fanatics are hired and get close to them. A very small percentage of the company interacts with them at all, let alone regularly, but I had to ask."

She seemed overly concerned about that part, and you're not quite sure she believed you. Other than that, you feel that it couldn't have gone better. In fact, you were certain. Why else would they pay for you to fly to Seoul for an in-person interview, which she described as the final part of the hiring process?

You can't help the nervous tingles that travel along your neck and down your spine. The excitement fills your fingers and toes, and you struggle to keep still in your seat. Things are finally moving forward. The dream you've had since you were a child is finally coming to fruition. Everything is falling into place.

But another part of you recalls the literal dream that's occupied your mind for just as long, a subconscious memory or recollection that hasn't left for years. How much longer can you take this nightmare? Isn't it normal for people to have other dreams, not just the same one over and over and over?

The man with the dark, curly hair. The murderer with a gun. The museum halls and flowing blood and untimely demise. 

This Taehyung, this member of BTS, what will happen when—or if—you meet? Will he recognize you, too? Will he tell you he has that same nightmare? Will he know why you are connected, despite having never met or heard of each other?

You shake your head, trying to focus on what lies ahead as the plane starts to descend through the air. If you do land this job at BigHit, then you can look for the answers you so desperately seek. If this is meant to be, you'll get what you're looking for. One way or another. Of that, you are sure.

That same part of you is terrified of what you might find when you do.

Or what will become of you if you don't.

You're the first to grab your overhead luggage and exit the plane. After navigating security and international check-ins, you spot a short-haired woman in a suit holding a sign over her head. Your name is written in big, bold letters.

As you approach, the woman smiles and greets you with a bow. "You must be Ms. [Y/l/n]?"

You nod eagerly, offering her the same greeting. "Lovely to meet you...?"

"I am Director Hyeon, I head Human Resources for Big Hit Entertainment. We spoke on the phone earlier this week. Please, follow me."

Doing as Director Misun Hyeon asks, you're escorted to a car parked along the sidewalk outside the airport. The Director tells the driver to take your bags and return to Big Hit HQ. Along the way, she makes small talk about your trip and the life you have in America. She's very professional and reserved, but also very sweet, instantly putting you at ease for your interview.

When the car drives up to the enormous, glass building in downtown Seoul, you're taken aback by the monstrous size of Big Hit headquarters. You knew they were a large company, staffing over five hundred people from your research, but seeing the sight in person has an entirely different effect.

"We just moved into this building this year," Director Hyeon states with a hint of pride. The car turns the corner and descends into the private underground garage. "The company has outgrown the last building, so when our contract was up, we knew we would need to expand."

"How many floors does it have?" you say, gawking at the many floors, both above and below you.

"Nineteen above, seven below," she replies, exiting the car. "Out interview will be on the top floor, so you can have a look at the view."

Director Hyeon wasn't kidding when she said there's a view. The entire penthouse level of the new Big Hit office is lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. Light streams in, ricochetting off the glassy surfaces to toss rainbows across the room. Peering down from the walkway, you see the expansive Seoul City spread out below. Everything looks so much smaller from two-hundred feet in the air. So beautiful, it's enough to take your breath away.

You have to get this job. After seeing this place, there's no other path you can see ahead of you.

The Director escorts you to her office, a room encased by another series of glass panels to give the illusion of privacy. Across from her, you can see several other offices of similar design. She asks you take a seat, getting you a cup of coffee as you make yourself comfortable.

In your mind, the interview couldn't have gone better. You were confident and assured of your abilities, and you have the grades and some experience to back it up. And the fact that you hit it off well with Director Hyeon doesn't hurt either.

As you finish up, she hands you the official memo on the position. "These are some of the tasks you'll be asked to do," she states, then continues to briefly overview what's on the page. "Your position would be Production Assistant, but that can mean doing just about anything, either in office, on tour, or on scene with one of the shows. You would do translation work, both ahead of time for press releases and social media as well as on the spot translations during events or interviews. And as I mentioned, you would handle the BTS official social medias for the English audience. They can post what they want, but they have been told to work with you on captions, tags, content, and the like."

She continues, "We're about to start work on a new album after the boys take a few weeks off from all the work they did on the last tour. When that happens, you might tag along in the studio and assist in various things there. When Bon Voyage or Run BTS begins shooting, you'll assist there. I know that word is vague, but I can promise it'll be more than just doing coffee runs or cleaning up after the boys." She laughs at that last part. "We have other people for that. What we need is someone that can really get into the trenches of the boys' work and help where needed, especially when it comes to the language barrier."

"Hence the bi-lingual requirement," you add.

Director Hyeon nods. "Exactly! So, I know this is a lot to take in, but we really are interested in you. We wouldn't have flown you all the way out here if we weren't. I do have a couple of other candidates I want to interview over the next day or so, but I have a feeling that you're our top pick. If you're willing to hang around Seoul for the next, say, forty-eight hours—all expenses paid, of course—I can give you a definite answer. Are you interested, Ms. [Y/l/n\?"

With a determined smile and eager nod, you reply, "More than you can imagine."

Finding things to do in Seoul isn't difficult at all. In fact, the rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. After the Big Hit driver takes you to your hotel and helps you carry your bags to your room, you take the rest of the evening to go out and explore the city. The food, the festivities, the feelings: if this is going to be your new home, you want to see it all.

The next day, knowing that you probably won't hear from Director Hyeon until the following day, you set back out into the city with a plan to see as many of the sights as possible. The night before, you'd laid in bed and made a plan of attack to take on Seoul. While knowing you wouldn't get to nearly all the spots you wanted, you made a list of the ones closes to your hotel, within walking distance. 

The day was absolutely beautiful. Whether or not you got this job, you weren't going to waste your forty-eight hours in South Korea.

In the morning, you visit several historic sites—such as the green space and onetime royal burial ground at Hyochang Park, the architectural and sightseeing wonders of Seoullo 7017, and the restored 1300s fortress wall and the pedestrian gate of Sungnyemun. After grabbing lunch at a local restaurant, you turn towards some of the other sights.

As you pass by City Hall, the building around the corner catches your eye. It's a large, old building crafted from concrete and bricks. It stands out from some of the more modern sights in the area. Edging closer, moving through the greenery around it, you see the name of the building come into perfect view.

서울시립미술관. Seoul Museum of Art.

Without thinking too hard about it, your feet take you towards the museum. You can't put your finger on it, but like the city itself, there's something so alluring and familiar about it. This whole trip has been one big, "Haven't I been here before?" This place, however, gives you heightened feelings. Both positive and negative.

You brush it off, convincing yourself they've arisen due to jetlag and job-related nerves.

The museum is even more awe-inspiring on the inside. The expansive interior is painted white to create more of a contrast between the walls and the art. Galleries stretch out in different directions, but you're drawn to one of the open rooms a little further in.

People flutter about, quietly chatting in various languages about the temporary exhibit that takes up little space but all the focus. It's a set of several still life oil paintings by Vincent Van Gogh on lend from the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. They're displayed along temporary glass walls that circulate the wing. A tour guide leads several visitors to each painting.

Your eyes trail from one to the next, but when you catch sight of a piece covered in shades of brown and orange, you halt mid-step. The painting looks so familiar to you, more than anything you've seen so far. If there is anything calling you to this place, this painting has to be it.

The card below the piece says that the name is "Vase with Honesty." Painted in autumn of 1884, it was one of Van Gogh's first still lifes.

"The name 'honesty' may refer to the translucence of the round seed pods, which turn a silvery-white colour in the autumn," the plaque reads. "They then resemble silver coins, and in Dutch this plant is called the judaspenning, 'coin of Judas'. This is a reference to the apostle Judas, who betrayed Christ for 30 pieces of silver. He is said to have thrown the coins to the ground when he hanged himself. Where they landed, the honesty plant later grew."

Minutes later, after the tour guide and most of the patrons have moved on to other exhibits, you're left alone with "Vase with Honesty."

Almost alone.

Another person remains to your right, a few feet between you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that it's a figure dressed in black sweatpants and a grey hoodie. His face is hidden by the hood, as well as a face mask that covers everything from his jaw to just under his eyes. This man is a half-foot taller than you, you estimate, and while you can't see his face, he also feels inexplicably familiar.

Like you, the art-loving, stranger's eyes are glued to this one particular painting. And like you, his gaze is that of both confusion, realization, and familiarity.

"I feel like I've seen this somewhere else," you murmur, trying to break the silence. Normally, you would've kept quiet, but there's something about this person that leads you to speak up. "It's familiar, isn't it?"

The man nods once, not replying verbally.

"Have you ever seen it before?"

"No," he responds in a quiet whisper, then gestures to the brochure in his hand. "This painting hasn't been here since 1995. It's come back for the first time in twenty-five years."

"Wow, really?"

He nods again. "The brochure says that the Van Gogh Museum hasn't lent out most of its art since then. I overheard one of the tour guides saying something about an accident at this Musem that caused them to recall all their temporary exhibits."

You shift your eyes from the stranger to the painting. "Then how could I know this one so well? I was born in 1995 for god's sake."

"I was, too, so I don't know...maybe we saw it online or something."

"It feels stronger than that," you insist, wrapping your arms around yourself to ease the chill crawling up your spine at the thought of whatever might have happened here in 1995. "Do you know what happened twenty-five years ago?"

"One of the artists working at the Museum was murdered."

Your head jerks back around to stare at the man, wide eyes locking briefly with his dark irises. "Murdered?"

He nods and gestures to the exhibit with the brochure. "That's why they started showing them in glass casings. If you look close to the corner, you can see a tiny, bloody fingerprint."

Turning back to the Van Gogh piece, you step closer, squinting your eyes at the bottom left corner where the man gestured. Sure enough, at the very edge, a smear of crimson in the shape of a fingerprint can be seen.

"What the hell?" you gasp, eyes widening again. "Hey, do you mind if I see that broch—"

Your sentence falls off at the end as you turn. The space behind you where the stranger once stood is empty. He is nowhere in sight, and his familiar aura has gone with him.

[ask-powerwoman]

So, Villa how did Dot find out about Ultra Woman? And why did she leave in the first place?

*This story is heavily based on the Mega Man Archie comics.

“Hey, mum?” Dot asks her creator, Doctor Villa “I thought I was your first robot. WVN-00A.”

“That’s right.” Villa responds with a smile

“Then... who’s WVN-000, ‘Lyra’...?” Villa froze, and glances to the screen that her daughter was looking at.

“See?” Dot says pointing to the name, “I was cleaning up the database when I found this. Is it an error?”

Villa sighs. “That... that isn’t an error.” She says, “Lyra was your older sister.”

Dot’s eyes light up. “Really?! Where is she? When do I get to meet her?”

“I’m sorry, Dot. But I’m afraid you’ll never get to meet Lyra.” Villa says sadly “she was my first triumph, and my greatest failure...”

“I... I don’t understand. What happened?” Dot asks.

That’s when Villa began to explain what had happened many years ago. When she was younger, more naive, and just beginning her life’s work. Back when She still counted Doctor Wily as a friend...

~~~

“That’s it Albert! She’s all done!” Villa says with a smile, lifting the goggles up onto the top of her head.

“Mmm..” Wily placed a hand to his chin, examining Villa’s newest creation. “It’s awfully... human-looking, Winter.” He says “Your military contract was for an advanced combat robot. You’ve built a... young lady.”

“And” Villa says “And my robot master line WILL be capable of advanced warfare --as well as a myriad of other advanced mental processes. I’ll get them their weapon, but this prototype, My girl, will stay with me.”

“Hmph. I’d say... you were taking your love of robotics too far, but then I’d be a hypocrite.” Wily says with a softened smile to his friend. “Let’s wake her up.”

“Right. Wake up, dear, Good morning...” the robot girl sat up on the work table, her long blonde ponytail moving over slightly as she rubs her eyes. “...Lyra!”

“...hello?” Lyra says, hesitantly, before finding herself suddenly picked up off the table and into a strong hug.

“Welcome to the world my lovely girl!” Villa says happily “I am your creator, Doctor Villa!” She allows Lyra to sit down once again. “How do you feel? The self diagnostic should’ve kicked in first thing.”

“I feel... fine?” Lyra responds “all systems report nominal.” She looks around

“I... I feel... confused. Overwhelmed. Disoriented. I know we’re in the ‘lab’ and what a ‘lab’ is but... why?”

Villa smiles with excitement “do you hear this, Albert? She’s self aware! Not five minutes online and she’s already thinking metaphysically!”

“Mm-hmm.” Wily replies scribbling notes down on a pad “Don’t mind me... just taking the measurements you’ll need for the weapon upgrades later. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Lyra blinks and looks at her hands “w...weapons?”

“Don’t worry about that now. You’re taking the first steps to bridge the gap between humanity and robotics.” Villa places a hand on Lyra’s shoulder. “You have data, but what you need now, is culture.”

Villa took Lyra out to see the city. The large buildings that seem to tower over everything, She bought Lyra a long purple scarf that she was fascinated by, She took her to the museum to see wondrous pieces of artwork, to the forest area where she got to feed real, organic birds and a deer, and finally to the symphony in the park as the moon finally began to rise.

In retrospect, Villa was too enthusiastic back then. She pushed too much of the world--of her own goals--on Lyra at once. But she seemed to be accepting it all so well...

Unfortunately, this was also when Villa received a great deal of her funding from military research. Without it, she would never have been able to construct Lyra. However, her benefactors wanted something to show for their investments, so...

Villa placed a helmet on Lyra’s head carefully as they prepare for the demonstration.

“Remember your programming. Hit-and-Run, don’t be reckless, pick your targets wisely, don’t forget to use your cover to your advantage...”

“Relax.” Lyra says with a confident smile. “I got this.”

Villa let’s out a heavy sigh as Lyra walks into the field.

“G-good afternoon, gentlemen. Today’s demonstration is of Villa Labs autonomous combat robot, model number WVN-000.” She says to the military representatives. “Today you will see how a robot can be capable of independent thought. Villa Labs hopes to bring the same capabilities to the civilian sector one day. But first, we will demonstrate the versatility my d--er.. this robot can perform in a... in a live fire exercise. Future models will allow for military operations with no... um... risk to human life.”

The demonstration began. Lyra ducked behind one of the walls as the training drones began to rapid fire.

Lyra smirks, charging her buster and dashing out from her cover, taking out several drones before reaching the next piece of wall for cover.

The shots from the drones cracked the wall on the outside, but that didn’t stop Lyra from leaping up and grabbing a hold of the wall, using the top as cover to take out more drones.

But something wasn’t right.

Lyra lands back on the ground, pushing the wall hard enough to topple it over.

Her body sparking all the while.

As exercise 2 was about to start, the sparking grew worse. Lyra felt off. It was dizzying for her.

“Doc... Doctor V-Villa? Something’s...”

Lyra tried to fire at one of the new incoming drones, but it missed.

And the drones swoop down to cut her with the propeller blades

“Lyra? LYRA?!” Villa exclaims with fear and worry “STOP THE TEST!!”

She came running over to her daughter, who now lay weak on the ground.

“Everything was going so well.” One of the military representatives says, “What happened, doctor?”

“There... seems to be an imbalance in her power generator. She’s never been put under this kind of strain...” Villa says, examining the data she was receiving from the damaged prototype.

“You didn’t test it first?”

“Of course I did!” Villa exclaims “but everything about her is unique—experimental. A robot this advanced requires a tremendous amount of power, and when the output is pushed...”

“It certainly shows promise,” says one of the military representatives, “but the power failure is a concern.”

“Yes...” adds another, “A simpler model would require less power, a simpler battle software would still be sufficient.”

“Congratulations, Doctor, you’ve won us over. We’ll clear you for further research funding, get back to us when you’ve got a smaller, simpler model.”

“Y-yes, sirs...” Doctor Villa says as she held Lyra in her arms, “thank you...”

But that wasn’t Villa’s real failure with Lyra.

Later that night, Lyra woke up in the lab, her core plugged into several machines meant to keep it stable

“Ugh... Doctor Villa?” She asks, rubbing her head, but looking around, her creator was nowhere in sight.

But she could hear an argument from another room.

“Absolutely not!”

“Listen to yourself, Winter! You’re way too attached to her. Let me do the modifications.”

“I said ‘no!’”

Lyra pulls the chords out of her core, and slowly gets up and goes to see what was going on.

“Oh, so you’ll trust me to design her arm-cannon, but you won’t trust me to modify her power core?”

“You DESIGNED it, but you didn’t INSTALL it. I did!”

“And you obviously did it wrong, hence the imbalance!”

Lyra stood still, watching her mother fight with her friend.

“You were BANNED from directly working on advanced robotics.”

“Nice of you to reopen THAT wound, Winter.” Wily huffs.

“You brought that upon yourself!” Villa retorts, “But more importantly, Lyra is MY girl, and I’ll handle her redesigns.”

“Doctor Villa...” Lyra starts, gaining the attention of the two Doctors.

“Lyra!” Villa exclaims, “I didn’t know you were already recharged.”

Villa knelt down to her level, placing her hands on her shoulders.

“Are you alright? Do you feel off-balance at all?”

“I’m fine” Lyra replies, “what’s this about redesigning me?”

Doctor Villa sighs, “your power generator is flawed.” She says, pointing to Lyra’s core. “If I don’t fix it, the imbalance will eventually destroy you. I have to redesign your core to save you.”

“And what if you bungle it,” Wily starts, “and erase all her personal programming?”

“I’m sure you’ll retain all your personality traits!” Villa says, in an attempt to reassure her daughter.

“Heh—just as you were sure her generator would work properly?”

“Enough, Albert, you’ll scare her! You’re not helping!”

“I know. You won’t let me.”

“I said ‘Enough!’”

“Fine, fine.”

“Lyra,” Villa says to her daughter, “Go hook yourself up in the lab so your power remains stable. We’ll begin work tomorrow.”

“But...”

“Now, please. This is for your own good.”

“...But” Lyra says quietly, “What about what I want?”

That night... Well, Villa can’t be certain if this was how it played out, But she had run the scenario over and over again in her head...

Lyra hid behind the wall to Villa’s room, listening as her mother talked to herself.

“I just don’t understand. It’s to save her life.” Villa says to herself as she paced back and forth in her room. “I coded the closest thing to a will of her own, but I want her to use it to make good, logical decisions.”

She sighs “..who would be logical facing their own mortality? Oh, Thomas. If you were here, you would know what to do...” Villa says, looking at an old picture of Thomas light, Wily and herself.

“Perhaps if I... it would be a lot easier if I did rewrite that rebellious streak out of her...”

Hearing that, Lyra had enough. Gripping her fist she leaves before she could hear the rest of what Villa had said to herself.

“No, no, no... what am I saying?” Villa says facepalming, “Once she’s repaired I’ll have to make it up to her in some way. And, in the long run, she’ll see it was for the greater good.”

Lyra in the meantime, was sobbing. As she packed a bag full of E-Tanks for a long and lonely trip ahead of her, she glanced at a picture of Villa and herself.

Smiling as if they had a perfect life... what lies had Villa been feeding her?...

In a moment of anger, Lyra smashed the photo on a ground.

The she walked out the door, never to come back.

~~~

“I never heard of or saw her again.” Villa says to Dot. “My pride, My arrogance, My lack of foresight... they robbed me of my first creation... My first daughter.”

“Well, then, we can go look for her!” Dot says with a smile “Me and Bounce can start looking right now!”

Villa chuckles a little. “No, Dot. Lyra’s power generator would’ve gone offline by now. It pains me to say it, but she’s gone.” She says with a sorrowful tone.

“Although there are long nights where I wonder what happened to her after she left...”

*A/N: this was a good excuse to submit a story instead of a comic. Hope you enjoyed this little story!

[natsumebookss]

Io Asteria Voice Lines

Next up's Io, the last member of my main three Nebula girls! Let me know if you want to see lines for the others! (I can't promise all nine for fear of clogging this blog with Nebula content, but Stelle and Phea are definitely priority ones.). Enjoy!

Self-Introduction 1: The name's Io Asteria. I just came here for intel, so don't get too used to me. With any luck, I'll be outta here before you know it, so don't you dare give me a reason to miss this place, okay?

Self-Introduction 2: Hello, honored citizen. I am Io Asteria and I am most pleased to meet your--gyah, don't you dare walk in on me when I'm trying to practice my professional introductions! I swear I'll fucking kill you if this happens again!

(Note: Io is the daughter of the Manufacturer and one of Olympia's three current presidents. Since the Manufacturer kidnapped her and faked her death when she was very young, she wasn't really raised in a presidential household and...it shows. Hence why she works on looking more "polished" to the public now that they know she's alive.)

Personal Story

Story Chapter End 1: The Firebrands...they've gotta be the best path to my revenge, right?

Story Chapter End 2: If I'm a mad princess who kills for what she wants...what stopped me from killing her?

(Note: Io did not take the Actress revelation well at all and it was frankly a miracle she didn't Witch out then and there. She did, however, mercilessly attack the Manufacturer, and since he's her father and people didn't know the full story, the Actresses at Star Corporations assume she's some kind of madwoman. She starts to assume this herself until another magical girl, Xing, confronts her for trying to join the Firebrands. Xing asks Io if she can really kill her, since she's one of the Firebrands' biggest enemies. Io doesn't, which makes her question if she really is who the rumors make her out to be.)

Story Chapter End 3: Valvi-nee's the only family I've got now, so I've gotta fight for us to stay together!

Story Select 1: How the hell can I not hate my father? He started all this!

Story Select 2: I'll do whatever it takes to get back to them.

Story Select 3: If it's for the ones I love, I don't care what I've gotta do!

Story Select 4: I'm sorry, Xing. I guess I can't be a Firebrand after all.

Story Select 5: Is it normal to hate someone enough to try to kill them?

Story Select 6: Your gang captured my friend, so you ain't getting off that easy!

Stats

Strengthening Complete: My lasers are all fired up and ready for action!

Strengthening Max: I'm so strong now, I could vaporize a Firebrand just for lookin' at me! Relax, I'm kidding!

Episode Level Up: I'm Nebula through and through, past alliances be damned!

Magia Level Up: If only my father could see how strong I am now. I bet I could almost convince him to put a stop to all this with enough magic.

Magical Release 1: I'll never stop bein' amazed at how generous Valvi-nee is. She should hate me after everything my family's done to hers.

Magical Release 2: Back when I was out on the streets homeless, she took care of me. Even once she found out I was a dirty Tsukimura...

Magical Release 3: God knows I couldn't forgive like that. That's why she deserves a happy life more than any of us. Certainly more than me.

Awaken 1: This is where the Manufacturer came from. These magical girls inspired him to make us. That's why I gotta fight for them!

Home Screen

Login (first login): The Actress name my father gave me was "Altesse," or "highness" to you. I ditched it and became Chevalier as soon as I found out I didn't wanna be the one being saved. I might not be a kind knight, but I'll protect ya all the same.

Login (morning): School is so pointless when you're an Actress like me. I mean, what're they gonna do, make me write 2000 words on the horrors of war when I was made to be part of all that? Valvi-nee'll kill me if I skip, though.

Login (noon): Why aren't I sitting with anyone? All the rich girls at Mizuna are way outta my wheelhouse 'cause I was raised to be a warrior instead of an heiress. Maybe I should try some of the regular gals who tested in instead.

Login (evening): Wait, is that actually a video store over there? I should probably be getting back, but I gotta check it out. These things all closed by the time I escaped Star Corporations, and 'sides, I still haven't decided what movie I'm gonna watch tonight.

Login (night): Hey, you goin' to the midnight premiere of that horror movie in a few hours? I swear, the franchise is so bad, but I've always gotta be the first to see them. Even a student director like me could do better than that!

Login (other): Leo-nii volunteers at a hospital and was born with healing magic, so he helps us out a lot on cases. I get that both presidential kids couldn't up and leave the country, but I miss him so much already.

Login (AP full): I might be neutral, but I ain't sitting out when it comes to Actress work. Stelle and Valvi-nee need all the Soul Gems they can get, and I like takin' out Witches anyway. Anything to keep me from going at some of the shady magical girls in town.

NOTE: Io really, really hates Promised Blood and Neo-Magius due to the former's status as a Firebrand-like magical girl gang and the latter's association with the Wings of the Magius (whose brainwashing techniques she opposes most of all since her friend Stelle was brainwashed for many years). Of the Nebula members, Io has come the closest to breaching the neutrality contract, since her and Juri being in the same room together practically guarantees that a fight will break out between them.

Login (BP full): Can the Mirror Witch really make copies of anything? Even your past selves? 'Cause when I think about the girl I was back then and how I believed all my father's lies, I just wanna throttle her! Maybe I'll finally get the chance!

Tap 1: There's that cheesecake shop they were talking about... Valvi-nee wanted caramel and Koto wanted mint. I told Koto I didn't want anything to do with that nasty stuff, but whatever. I'm feeling nice today.

Tap 2: People always tell me I get mad real easy, but that ain't the case. Just don't hurt my friends or call me by my father's name, and you're good. Can't say what'll happen to you if you call me Io Tsukimura, though.

Tap 3: Surprised to see me in a Mizuna uniform? I pulled some strings to get in. Mizuna can brag about havin' a president's daughter, and they'll write me one hell of a reference letter for film school. I ain't proud of it, but that's how it's done, y'know?

Tap 4: Mom and Leo-nii just found out about me a few months ago, and it's already leaked all over. The lost First Daughter, alive all this time and all that. Don't get me wrong, having them back is awesome but...I'm just glad the paparazzi aren't breathing down my neck here.

Tap 5: Every rebel leader from the movies gotta have a bruiser to back him up, and I don't mind playing that role. If it's what I have to do to keep Valka and Omega out of trouble, then consider it done.

Tap 6: My wings retract when I'm not in Actress form, so looking human is super annoying. I wanna stretch them out all the time, but all the "out" Actresses at my old school went Firebrand. They kept pestering me so damn much that I just go to school like this now.

Tap 7: "You're a light Actress like her. If you killed the Valkaine Project, you'd be at the top of the food chain." That was the last thing that Firebrand said to me before she hit the pavement. Just hearing that made my blood boil so hard, the other Nebula girls had to tear me off her.

Tap 8: Tsukuyo and I hang out sometimes. I never thought I'd find someone in Kamihama who went through the same stuff as me, so it's nice getting tips from her on the whole estranged twin thing. I'm still gonna make sure she loosens up a ton by the time I leave, though!

NOTE: I have a whole semi-event planned in my head where Io finds out about Tsukuyo's secret and asks her for advice. She kinda intimidates Tsukuyo a bit at first (a callback to her interrogation in the Endless Solitude arc), but they eventually become odd friends. The rest of the event consists of Io taking Tsukuyo out of her comfort zone, trying to get her to rebel more, etcetera. I also feel like she'd be good friends with Kyoko.

Tap 9: I--I can't go over there...there are too many people. You have to get me out of here! *clears throat and attempts to return to her normal personality*. You gotta understand, I don't do crowds. Back at Star Corporations, I was a special experiment kept under complete isolation and...God, you gotta get me outta here right now!

Battle Start: Oh, they're askin' for it now! C'mon!

Battle Victory 1: Ha! They were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't even stop to think if they should!

NOTE: Yes, this is meant to be a Jurassic Park reference. Io is that much of a movie nerd, and fully intends on screaming the actual quote at her father the minute they meet again.

Battle Victory 2: All right, everyone's safe! Now I just gotta make sure the enemy's completely withdrawn.

Battle Victory 3: If you can't do the time, don't do the crime.

Doppel: We're finally together, Mom.

Dying: You'll never win in the end!

NOTE: I spent a long time trying to phrase this before remembering the She-Ra theme and figuring a negative version of it would flow best.

[lilquill]

Are you doing okay what with all the VV stuff that happened? It seemed like you and Mina were close

Hey hey, thanks for the worries anon! Mina of mvcreates/Violet Vineyard and I were properly talking as friends for only a few months quite a long time ago. Emotionally I’m completely fine, but I do have stuff to say and I do want to help document things if any of it is useful in any way. A lot of it will be dry because it’s just documenting, but some of it will be “juicier” I guess, and I’d like to corroborate some of the things my friends are saying. I’ll put this under the cut for people who don’t want to scroll through all this and/or have no idea what I’m talking about and want to keep it that way!

You guys can check @nuwuhorizons‘s blog to see what exactly is going on and I believe they’re also reblogging some things others who were members are saying. The case of people dogpiling a 19-year-old trans person and making fun of their name is on the blog (post here, wayback machined here).

I can corroborate a bunch of what @rrrawrf-writes (post here, wayback machined here) and @gingerly-writing (post here, wayback machined here) have said. I backread through the interaction that Ginger talks about in her post (of course not the DMs, but the interaction itself).

I know some people may be confused about why Ginger only has that one screenshot of what she said and may not see that as full evidence, but Violet Vineyard had a super strict “don’t screenshot and post anything” with lots of scary looking legal stuff attached to it policy and, well, Ginger can’t be sharing stuff without anyone’s permission if it’s just the message she herself sent, but they’d have grounds to take god knows what action with what backing against her if she posted something else. But, well, for what it’s worth, as someone who read through that conversation a little after it happened, it was certainly a case of dogpiling and left a bad taste in my mouth, and it strikes me as really odd that the mods would try to shut someone down like that.

I haven’t really been doing stuff in writeblr lately as you can probably tell from my blog, but yeah, Mina herself and a lot of people in that particular friend group of hers, as Lisa mentions, have just disappeared off Tumblr. I can also attest to the dogpiling tendencies and this Mina Is Always Right tendency, and the fervor with which people would defend her.

I was honestly never close enough to Mina to be in that friend group. She and I were only really talking to each other for a few months over a year ago. I don’t think I was “writeblr-y” enough to fit in with them. I was also not super active in that server. I didn’t post much about my wips because I in general don’t think I really post a lot about them. Therefore I didn’t get like, massive benefits off of the whole “network” thing, but  I’d reblog some stuff when I saw it. I was probably most known for posting pictures of my plants, lol. And I would occasionally hop in to talk briefly about kpop with like, one person? (They went by Kay and their url was like, lvcrezia? lvcrezias? Something like that.) In fact, probably the last thing I ever said in that server was a super quick conversation about Red Velvet’s “Monster” music video around the time it dropped.

In fact, for the sake of being super transparent/establishing credibility, and for documenting purposes, I’ll list all the non-plant-pictures and non-kpop conversations I can remember actually participating in. Some of these will lead off into bigger topics, and I’ll specify those. But first, a word.

TO ANY OF THE FORMER MODS WHO MIGHT COME AFTER ME FOR SAYING THINGS ABOUT THE SERVER, SINCE THIS HAS APPARENTLY HAPPENED TO OTHERS: The server is deleted, and so is the text of the whole “contract” (yes, really) that people had to agree to in order to join VV. I remember that the agreement made sure we didn’t post screenshots publicly, but other than that I genuinely do not remember the text and I have no way of referencing it to keep in line with it since the server is deleted. I do not remember if documenting things like this is against anything I have agreed to, I have no record of the agreement, and I have not been notified of any place to access a record of the agreement before the server was deleted. If my post is some sort of violation, you cannot hold me accountable for rules that I am unable to follow, and I would greatly appreciate not being targeted with empty threats shrouded in scary legal language. If you have any point of contention with what I have said, feel free to take it up either publicly or privately. Please do @ me if it’s specific to me; I’m not really the vagueposting kind. If any of you want me to delete this post, you will need to provide actual proof of the agreement that I made by joining Violet Vineyard, and you will also need to prove that the rules were not edited after I agreed to them. If any of them were follow-up rules not from the beginning of the server, it’s possible that I did not see them and therefore you need to provide proof that I agreed to those, too. In addition, since image editing is what set off this avalanche in the first place hence we’re all aware that there’s software that allows us to edit images and pass them off as an original thing, you’ll need to provide proof that any screenshots/images are undoctored. Furthermore, since the rules have been deleted with the server, as the method I used to agree to follow them, you must prove that my agreement is still valid, since it seems to me it’s been nullified since it’s, well, gone either through deletion or kicking me out alongside everyone else. Tl;dr you don’t scare me lol.

Anyways, back to a list of the non-kpop, non-plant-pics, non-my-wips-promo conversations I can actually remember:

On January 5, 2020, the server had a conversation about Roshani Chokshi’s book The Gilded Wolves. I can give the date because during/in the aftermath of the conversation, which I talked about the book in, Mina DMed me quickly. (This was also the last time Mina ever directly contacted me.) I’ll talk about this later.

In February 2020 I believe I quickly mentioned getting concert tickets.

Either early this year or late last year I think I posted some stuff about landscape photography, with some photos of the beach.

I believe I posted a couple fashion pics at some point?

Back in May 2019 I got some kinda weird asks about Violet Vineyard and I think people were talking about that, and I assume I participated since I was the one who received the asks. At that time VV was like a super new server and didn’t really have much as far as the issues we’ve been talking about go, so I defended it. (I’ll be talking about this later.)

Probably in June/July 2019 people in the server had a discussion about Black Muslim characters and representation, initiated by me for one of my WIPs.

I think we talked about South Asian sweets at some point???

I believe in April/May 2019, there was some stuff in that server reagarding “drama” with Castor who at that time went by the url pilipalea that I honestly don’t remember much of. Castor was never in VV, but I believe they were in a server with Mina at some other point. There was something about grammar and proofreading?? (I’ll be referencing this soon as well.)

I helped someone with their computer science homework at some point.

I asked for r&b music recs at some point either late 2019 or earlier 2020.

I’ve also talked about ethnic clothes I think.

We’ve talked about Hindu nationalism and how awful it is.

I think we’ve talked about tone policing and how woc are often portrayed as “aggressive.”

We’ve talked about health/fitness and exercise.

I recommended Jade City and some other books I’m a fan of in there.

Probably talked about Bollywood movies at some point.

The fact that I can remember probably most of my conversations that lasted more than like, one message in there is, I think, a pretty good testament to a) me having at least a kind of decent memory and b) I wasn’t participating in the server so regularly that the conversations kind of blend together. I know this is all kind of long and dry for anyone who’s here for drama purposes lol, but I did want to establish that I’ve been in that server for quite a while and that I wasn’t monitoring it heavily; in fact, I had it muted very soon after joining it.

I wasn’t super close to anyone that I’d met through VV. People who are friends that I still regularly contact who were in VV with me, I had met through other servers and other interactions on Tumblr. I’ll disclose right now that I have been longtime friends with Ginger, Lisa, and Eff (@time-to-write-and-suffer), who have all come out against VV, and that we are in our own servers with people from writeblr. Ginger and Lisa were both in VV, Eff has never been.

Okay, back to maybe “juicier” stuff.

Mina had always positioned herself almost as this “tumblr mom” type. She’d reference her age a lot, which would contrast a lot with how a significant portion of the members were much younger and, I think, set up the dynamic of people looking up a lot to her and always coming to her defense. After all, we’re talking a bunch of passionate kids who’d found a writeblr network. And the server definitely seemed “legit”; I myself was pretty impressed with just how tightly organized everything was, and like I mentioned, there was fancy legal language to ~protect their rights~ and whatnot. Mina herself seemed so accomplished with so many talents: she’d post her writing and artwork, I believe she’d made a couple pieces of music, she’d work out and keep in shape, she had a seemingly wonderful loving relationship with her husband, she was active in research fields professionally and as an outbreak responder, and she, of course, had a significant online presence as a “big writeblr.” I remember when she’d started blowing up, so soon after her blog had been created, because of her prolific content and friendly persona. People, especially younger ones who had no other writeblr support group, looked up to her and trusted her. And the nature of the server was to shower everyone in praise, so Mina found herself on the receiving end of quite a bit of it. Mina would also actively boost and review other writers’ content, genuinely engaging with it and providing feedback, support, and valuable resources.

Mina also had a tight-knit group of adult friends. Some of them I believe carried over from pre-VV times (incuding CJ of typewriter-jade if I’m remembering correctly, who made fun of the trans person’s name in the reblog chain in the link to nuwuhorizons’s blog), while some were made afterwards. They would act super friendly and familiar with each other, which I think contributed to a lot of people falling into this little “friendship” super fast. They were also authority figures and role models, and tended to agree with each other, so everyone just went along with that.

These factors, I think, heavily influenced the dogpiling tendencies. People were eager to defend their community, where they’d found so much love and support for their work. Minors would go along with adults in conversations. When someone said something, others would enthusiastically support them. And people were just so into each other that I really couldn’t keep up, which is probably why I didn’t participate too much. People became just super fast friends and the server was so large and so seemingly “professional” and structured in how it was made. I think people just kind of assumed everyone in there was great and their friend who could be trusted deeply, when in reality that’s just impossible if there are like, 100+ members. Meaning if something minorly negative happened (like on that literal eleven-year-old’s blog), everyone would come in to say something to demonstrate their emphatic loyalty, even when it became excessive for something as small as an ask game done wrong.

This happened with the Gilded Wolves discussion as well. Someone stepped in to say that the way Gilded Wolves coded its antagonists as this shady secret society of people was antisemitic, and everyone joined in to rip the book apart without having even read it. I joined in the conversation to state that I didn’t see it that way, since that shady antagonist group was very much coded as white Christians (their names are all French Christian names) and were colonizers (meaning making them this shadowy group of powerful and evil people was accurate) and one of the protagonists, who is Jewish, is opposing them and antisemitism is portrayed as horrible, and that the book had had (if I’m remembering correctly) Jewish sensitivity readers and multiple Jewish book reviewers really enjoyed and recommended it. Then Mina stepped in to say that multiple Jewish journals she followed rated the book highly and recommended it meaning the accusation of antisemitism clashed heavily with what a lot of other people thought, and that since me and the other person who was saying the book was antisemitic were the only ones who had read it or were familiar with it in any capacity, it wasn’t fair for everyone to be judging it like that. It was like she’d flipped a switch: people were suddenly much more “reasonable” and “fair” and willing to give the book a chance, just because she’d stepped in. (As a quick note, I don’t remember exactly whether Mina stepped in first or if I stated my opinion first. I also want to mention that Mina DMed me to state that the person who accused the book of antisemitism had expressed some Zionist sentiments in the past and to say that maybe their take on the book could have come from Islamophobia with them maybe assuming obviously ethnic name of the author was a Muslim name. The Zioinist stuff is something I can’t actually speak on since again, I have no access to the server anymore and I don’t remember that person’s url. This was the last time Mina DMed me or I her.)

I wrote all that out because I think it illustrates a few things. Firstly, a good example of the tendencies of people going with the flow of things even when it led to dogpiling/drastic conclusions. When I say they were really trashing that book, I mean it! Secondly, it demonstrates the willingness of everyone to go along with what Mina said. Third, it shows that Mina was capable of stepping in to prevent dogpiling (and, seemingly, she would, at least if her beliefs aligned with the opposite of whatever incited the dogpiling) and that people would listen to her and actually change their minds. 

Whether or not Mina supported something was pretty important. Of course, it was her server, so she was definitely allowed to run it how she saw fit, but she would very swiftly pass judgement on things and everyone would just comply. One time, I think there were more than one different threads of conversation happening in the general channel of the server. Jess suggested making a second general channel to allow for other conversations, as is common in a lot of servers, including ones I’m in and moderate/own/have some power in. I don’t remember if I supported that suggestion or if I only backread that conversation, but I know at least one other person agreed. Mina said that as an older person (she’d very frequently bring up her age) she thought people could just wait for their turn in a conversation and didn’t even consider trying it out. Other mods, I believe, backed her up and said no to the second general conversation channel. I remember being a little confused as to why nobody even considered trying a member’s suggestion to make the server more easy to participate it and help provide additional structure/support how big it was, and why it was shut down because people could just wait for their turn, when clearly the general channel was getting overloaded before our eyes. But Mina didn’t see the need, so therefore nobody else wanted to do anything about it, and nobody ever mentioned it again, I think. I know this is a super minor instance lol, but I do think it illustrates something about the behavior in the server and how it was run. It’s not like other channels weren’t added based on need; one was created for the 2018 elections, one was created for talking about race in June during the height of BLM protests having news coverage, I’m pretty sure one was created for talking about the coronavirus. So, the mods were watching conversations and responding as they saw fit, they just wouldn’t field this request, for some reason. Obviously conversations getting muddled in a general channel isn’t as significant as major political events, antiblack racism, or a pandemic, but these channels were made to improve the server experience and likely to prevent these topics from completely overloading other channels, so, well.

Okay, the Castor/pilipalea stuff and dogpiling. I’ll say this stuff now because Castor has opened up about it (here [wayback machined] and here [archived in a google doc]), so I see that as permission for others to comment on it. If I’m remembering correctly and looking back at the right things, there was something about Mina giving advice on a grammatical error to one of her mutuals, or something asking if her mutuals wanted grammatical advice? Castor vagueblogged, presumably about that, and talked about classism in expecting good grammar from people, which is a valid issue, but seemed misapplied to this instance of someone consenting to receive advice on grammar/syntax/mechanics, if that’s what the vagueblogging was about. I reached out to Mina to let her know that I thought someone was vagueblogging about her, and she told me about past conflicts with Castor. I also reached out to Castor over DMs to ask what the vagueblogging was about, because you genuinely never know; classist prescriptivism is harmful and bad, and so many people on Tumblr are in so many different circles that similar topics may come up coincidentally. Castor wasn’t clear with me either about what the post was targeting and skirted around naming names.  

At this point, looking back, it still seems to be that it was about Mina, especially considering that Castor had previous history with her and others in her circle. Mina was irritated by the vagueblogging (who likes being vagueblogged about?) and also informed me, all the way back in April 2019, about this past server drama that Castor mentioned. It seems to me that it stemmed from a misunderstanding: Mina and I believe other mods noticed another person using Castor’s PSDs without credit. Mina checked with Castor about whether people should be crediting them for PSDs and Castor said that, yes, they wanted credit; you can see this interaction in the screenshot Castor linked on their post. 

This is where the accounts of what happened diverge: Mina expressed to me that she and the other mods weren’t very harsh since they’d seen that Castor’s friend had credited Castor in the past, so they just wanted to remind Castor’s friend to give credit, without knowing that Castor’s friend had permission to use the PSDs without crediting. I was told that Mina and the team of mods were professional in their handling of this; Castor has stated in their post that the group was extremely harsh. Since I don’t have any screenshots or exact records of what they said before I was in contact with Mina, I can’t comment, so I’ll withhold judgement on that. According to Mina, she and the other mods had not been very vocal about this crediting/PSD stuff, and very few people knew about it, so it did seem like Castor had attacked Mina out of nowhere.

What I can say is that the VV members were certainly quick to respond to the grammar vagueblog, and that if I’m remembering correctly, readily jumped to Mina’s defense. I distinctly remember that one VV member specifically asked whether it was about Mina in a reblog. This happened pretty early on in VV’s existence and I believe was the first major “drama” that VV got embroiled in. Looking back, I do think it was fair to be critical of Castor’s post. But this was also the first look at the tendencies people had of getting embroiled in the fervor of any perceived slight against a member (in particular Mina).

I noticed this again when I received anons that were sort of bitter about VV’s existence in May 2019, way before VV had gained the reputation that it has now. People were very quick to respond with hostility and slightly amplify the anger expressed by other members, and little by little things got really out of hand. I can totally understand being upset and irritated, since the asks were kind of unwarranted and the sender did apologize if I remember correctly. But there was a huge outpouring of vicious language from a lot of the members, and this was, I think, the first instance of proper dogpiling in VV, especially since it was an easy antagonist; the sender was out of line, and they were totally anonymous.

These were the only two instances of going to bat for VV that I ever participated in. For the other things, I either only backread or missed them completely. While they don’t really paint VV in a super bad light, not like the dogpiling of an eleven-year-old that Jess mentions in her post, it did give me a pretty good idea of how VV handled controversies.

I’ve mentioned some of my theories of why this dogpiling/toxicity happened. I’d also like to add that Mina would often send concise, decisively-worded statements about things. I think this may have come across as final-word judgments to a lot of people, so they would take that as the last say on a certain matter and escalate in severity of their response from there. And like, you should trust your friends and take what they say in good faith. But you still need to be thinking critically and considering your response, especially when you haven’t known someone for very long. And this, I think, was a big source of toxicity in the server. There were just so many people responding to the same issues and aligning their beliefs, and they’d build off each other and create an environment where these kinds of responses were okay. Plus, VV was always portrayed as a tight-knit family when not everyone knew each other and not everyone was active (as is totally normal for a massive server), so this also contributed to people wanting to defend each other all the time. And I don’t think the mod team did an adequate job of shutting it down, despite the veneer of a structured, sort of more “professional” space.

Okay, now onto the art stuff.

Disclaimer, I don’t draw digital or physical art. I was always aware that Mina was certainly at least using references for her work. In some cases I could even pinpoint which pictures were used, like one where the faceclaim was Ranveer Singh. I also received fanart of one of my characters that, of course, looked very similar to the faceclaim. It certainly was clear some tracing had happened in that picture because of the level of detail in the chikankari embroidery, but like…..it’s free fanart, chikankari isn’t copyrighted, and that embroidery is super difficult to draw anyways. What I was not aware of was Mina apparently tracing images and using them to advertise for commissions, which is something I do not condone. I also know my photography and photo editing tools, so I was aware that there was some filtering/editing going on. I’m not sure if Mina traced and didn’t disclose it for commissioned art.

Okay, now the server shutting down stuff!

I was completely unaware of the dogpiling/transphobia stuff happening in the server because I had it on mute. I only found out about all this two days ago. I received the message where everyone was @’ed about VV’s “migration” off Tumblr and that the server would be shut down. I can confirm that the concern was about mirror sites and that the server did discuss these mirror sites as a big intellectual property issue. I didn’t know people wanted the server shutting down to be kept so secret, and I honestly cannot think of a reason why; I feel like if those mirror site concerns were serious, people would be trying to spread the word on writeblr? So I think that people are right to be a little suspicious of the exact reason for the server’s closing.

I think I should mention also that people were pretty much always friendly with me on VV. I met a bunch of cool people, and Mina was always kind and supportive with me. @radley-writes has echoed similar sentiments here (wayback machined here) and here (wayback machined here) while being critical of the environment in VV.

I know this post is like, wildly long and probably quite dry and rambly at points, but I hope it does provide some specific examples to back up some of the criticisms of VV and document it a bit better.

Thank you for reading! I’ll make sure to edit this to add stuff if I remember things/see the need.

I also want to state that my post is more a critique of the environment than anything. I’m not trying to attack anyone at all, I’m just giving an account of stuff that has happened, my level of involvement, and my own thoughts on all this.

I also want to say that I am completely open to hearing what any of you have to say. Feel free to critique/discuss anything I’ve said in this post with me. If you want to vent about your experiences in/with Violet Vineyard, my inbox and DMs are totally open. If you want to keep things confidential, I won’t break your trust or reveal your identity (unless you start idk, spouting racist stuff at me or something). If you want to anonymously tell people about an experience, feel free to shoot me an anon.

I hope you’re all having a wonderful day! I’m sending you lots of love. Take care! <3