#Bang PD is stupid to not realize what’s happening to his firm

[beautifulpersonpeach]

JESUS BPP YOU WERE RIGHT ABT VP L BEING THE FALL GUY TO TARGET MHJ

https://x.com/tmikpop/status/1782735648610275429?s=46

But she’s been made the scapegoat and now people will think she made him say this and it won’t matter will it? I doubted it before but looking at everything coming out, it feels like someone has wanted MHJ out of Hybe for a long time. First they tried to use public opinion turning against her with the pedo scandal to do it, but it didn’t work because Hybe supported her. So now they are attacking her from within Hybe itself, using her caustic abrasive narssistic reputation to paint a character profile of a backstabbing greedy SM bitch who wants to pull another 50-50 even though MHJ herself has said in the wake of such glaring failures of both SM and 50-50, its stupid to think she’d attempt the same so soon. I work in investment banking and this feels like an inside hit job from everything I’ve seen. I don’t really like MHJ, I think she talks too much, but I can’t help but feel what we’re hearing from her is closer to the truth than what leaks from Hybe are saying. Somebody wants her gone.

It’s sad. If she leaves will there be any more top women at Hybe? Nicole left Hybe recently to go to Columbia after almost 7 years as A&R for BigHit, Adora left Hybe after almost 9 years to do her own solo career outside of Hybe. Sometimes i wonder why those women left after all the investment they made into the company, of its because they weren’t given more real support to advance to more independent or autonomous roles. All three women: Min Hee Jin, Adora, and Nicole were hired when Bang PD was in charge, but now that other men are calling shots at Hybe and it’s a more big chaebol corporate structure, all these women are either leaving or in the case of MHJ, attacked and left little choice but to leave.

i know this is giving conspiracy BPP, and i hate it. Maybe I’m projecting my own trauma from work into the situation. But this new VP L statement just triggered it for me. Something about this scandal smells very very wrong. I just hope the outcome for NewJeans is the best one.

***

Your link.

You’ve said a lot. All I’ll respond to is your first question: no it won’t matter what VP L says. It won’t matter unless the suits at HYBE want it to, and so far that looks unlikely.

[casuallyimagining]

I Meant What I Said

Jeon Jungkook x Ace!Reader

Summary: For Jungkook, the scariest thing about this Halloween is thinking you’re mad at him. Notes: This was very self-indulgent, but I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while. Hope you enjoy. This is part of the Long Term Couples series.  Read more here

The party was loud--almost too loud. Jungkook could barely think. His eyes scanned the bodies in the room. People were dancing, their costumes all matching the theme—the 1980s—and looking like Boy George himself had vomited neon and bad hairstyles all over everyone. In the far corner, someone dressed as an ‘80s home workout coach--Hoseok-hyung, his brain barely registered--was surrounded by people hanging on his every word. Not seeing what he was looking for, Jungkook began to wander.

He was mad at himself, but he wasn’t sure why. He knew he said something wrong, something that had made his best friend disappear. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what that something was. Jungkook had even relayed the conversation to Jimin and Taehyung when they arrived at the party, but they either couldn’t or wouldn’t help him. So he was forced to wander through the sea of costumed bodies alone, searching for you.

“Your costume looks amazing. It would look better on my floor.” 

Jungkook replayed the brief conversation in his mind as he looked. You were dressed as Cyndi Lauper. It shouldn’t be this hard to find you.

He sighed. It was a joke, he thought you understood that. Looking back, though, he should have known that when your smile stopped meeting your eyes, you didn’t see it as a joke. Was it his tone? Admittedly, he was shamelessly flirting with you, but in his defense, you had never taken offence to his flirting before.

After years of friendship, he had finally gathered up the courage to ask you out a few months ago. If anyone asked you, you would probably say Jungkook had drunkenly confessed to you one early morning and you had humored him. He just hadn’t left your side since. You were his best friend and his most determined supporter. Jungkook had thought the relationship was going well--nothing much had changed between the friendship and the romance--and it killed him to think that maybe he had ruined everything with a stupid joke.

As Jungkook approached the door to the balcony, he heard Jin’s squeaky laugh. He peaked out and saw you and Jin sitting on a bench, drinks in your hands. For a moment, he paused in the doorway, unsure if he should approach you.

Just as he was about to turn away, you noticed him standing there. A small smile played at the corner of your lips, and Jungkook couldn’t help but return it. Jin stood, then, and after making some excuse about having to find Namjoon, he hugged you tightly and slipped back inside.

It was quiet out on the balcony with the eldest member gone. The late October air was chilly, and Jungkook was glad that he had chosen a lazy Freddy Krueger costume--the oversized sweater, though itchy, kept him warm. Silently, he found himself drifting towards the railing of the balcony. As much as he wanted to talk to you, he thought better of it.

What if you were still mad at him?

The property Bang PD had rented for the party was gorgeous. The trees were lit up with purple and orange spotlights, casting long shadows on the lawn below. Pumpkins--some carved, some not--littered the patio below the balcony. Close-by, someone had constructed some sort of spooky maze in the foliage.

After a moment, he felt you gently brush against his shoulder as you leaned against the railing beside him. You sighed, and he watched you rub the side of your nose out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, keeping his eyes on the trees.

You froze, your hand still under your eye. “What?”

“I’m not entirely sure what I did, but you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry.”

He turned to look at you then. Your face was full of confusion as your eyes scanned his features, focus flitting back and forth between his eyes. Eventually, you found what you were looking for--though what that was, Jungkook had no idea--and your eyes met his own. You mumbled a soft “Oh, Jungkook,” before turning your head away to look down at the cup in your hands.

You leaned even more into the balcony railing as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. He could practically see the gears turning in your head, could see the thoughts pop into and out of existence, could see the war you were waging with yourself in your mind.

“I need you to know that this isn’t your fault,” you said finally, refusing to look at him. Your voice was steady and without emotion, almost as if you’d practiced what you wanted to say. “And I also need you to know that I didn’t intend for this conversation to happen like this. I should have told you this a long time ago.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to be confused. He had no idea what you were talking about. Were you cheating on him? Did you not want to be in a relationship with him? Were you living some sort of double life? Luckily for him, you only took a moment to collect your thoughts before continuing.

“I don’t want this to ruin things,” you said carefully, picking at your nails. It was one of your nervous habits, and normally, he found it endearing. But right now, he was just nervous. “But I’m also not an idiot. I understand if it does.”

“Does…?”

“Ruin things. If you don’t want to do this anymore, I’ll understand.”

“Jagi, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jungkook reached out and smoothed the side of your hair that wasn’t teased to hell and back. He felt you tense under his touch. It was so brief, he thought maybe he imagined it, but the look on your face made it clear that he didn’t. You sighed as he retracted his hand.

“I’m asexual.” Your tone was methodical. If someone had just been listening to the conversation, they might even have mistaken it for casual. But Jungkook could see the way you blink a little faster, the way your eyes darted in the opposite direction of him, the way your arms wrapped around yourself. This was not the first time you’d had this conversation. Or, maybe it was, and you cared more about his opinion than you’d care to admit.

You continued before he could respond. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I’m leading you on, y’know? I mean, we’ve been friends for years now and like… you’ve told me about your other girlfriends and… everything… and I-I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about us. About me.”

“Jagi-”

“So, I mean, I understand if you want to go back to just being friends. I get it. I’ll be okay.” You nodded, and Jungkook could tell you were trying to convince yourself more than him. Suddenly, you were very interested in the empty cup in your hands. “I should go get a drink.”

You moved to brush past him, but he caught your wrist and you froze. He said your name gently, but there was a firmness to it that kept you in place, even when he pulled his hand away from your arm. You stood there in silence for what felt like eons. He watched you avoid his gaze.

Jungkook sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” He spoke softly, trying his best not to set you off into another panic-induced ramble.

“It didn’t matter. And then it did. And the more I put it off, the harder it got.”

His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheekbone. You could feel his gaze on you. When your eyes finally met his, you could see the emotion in them.

“You thought... what? That I’d leave?” You shrugged, chewing on your lip nervously. He sighed again. “Jagi, I don’t care if you don’t want to have sex with me.”

A look of confusion crossed your face. “You… don’t?”

“I mean, I do.” He could feel his face heating up. “But not if you don’t want to. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”

For a moment, the sparkle came back to your eyes and Jungkook could feel his heart soar. But then you frowned again.

“What if you change your mind?” It was more of a statement than a question, and a small piece of him broke as he realized that maybe you weren’t used to being loved like that. Maybe you weren’t used to someone understanding. A small piece of him wanted to rage against society, to burn it all to the ground, if it would help you feel better.

“Then we’ll talk about it like adults.” He pulled you to him suddenly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Fuck fucking. I’ve loved you for so long, I just want to be with you.” Your hands froze on his waist at his confession, but he only squeezed you tighter. “Maybe I will change my mind. In a year, five years, whatever. But we’ll talk about it. Fuck, we’ll get therapy if we have to.”

He fell silent, then, but continued to hold you to him. After a moment of quiet, he felt you relax. Your arms snaked slowly around his waist. And while it was clear to him you were still a little conflicted, you had opened up to him. And that was a start.

“Jesus, jagi. I thought you were mad at me,” he breathed. He felt you shake your head against him before burying your face into his neck.

As the silence enveloped the two of you again, Jungkook’s mind wandered. The music was so loud inside, it was amazing how quiet it was on the balcony, even with the door open. Slowly, he started to sway your bodies to the beat of the song, some American pop number he recognized but didn’t really know. One of his hands found its way into your hair, the other rubbed lazy circles into your back.

“I hope you know you can trust me,” he whispered into your hair. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I know we’re dating, but you’re my best friend first.”

You squeezed him around the middle in acknowledgement. Jungkook leaned back, holding you at arms’ length so he could look at your face. Your hands balled in the hem of his sweater that hung loosely around his waist. Your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and you looked happy—genuinely happy. He smiled gently.

“I meant what I said. I love you, jagi.”

Your breath audibly caught in your throat. For a moment, Jungkook was disappointed you didn’t respond to him in kind. But looking closer, he saw the depth in your eyes, felt your hands grip his sweater tighter. Maybe you weren’t ready to say it yet, but Jungkook could feel it.

Read more of the series here

[alleiradayne]

Bang Your Head (Cullen x F!Trevelyan Modern AU) Part 69

Catch up on the previous part - part 68 | ao3 Start from the beginning - part 1 | ao3

At last, Duncan brings everyone up to speed.

The den was cozy, intimate and warm. Dark red walls and pale carpet paired with a low ceiling, rich cedar book shelves surrounded Amallia as though she were in an actual bear den, except for the wet bar in the far corner.

And there, leaning against the polished cedar rail, stood Alistair, holding a wide, shallow glass, empty but for the last swallow of brown liquor at the bottom. His white shirt hung open, buttons at the neck undone with a loosened green tie. Navy slacks clung to his hips, his belt missing. Brown oxfords covered navy argyle socks, one ankle exposed by a leg propped on a bar stool.

Eyes the color of warm honey brightened as he spotted them, a soft smile hooking one corner of his mouth. And though he saw them both, he lingered on Cullen a moment longer before hefting a tray of drinks from the bar.

“Alistair, sit, I’ll take care of it,” Duncan admonished and Alistair obeyed, turning back for the couch and taking a seat beside Cullen. Amallia sat to his left, and Tanya took up a chair beside them as she spoke.

“I understand you’re in the middle of an investigation,” she asked, addressing Cullen. “But you don’t work for Duncan, though?” she clarified as she folded her burgundy cotton dress between her crossed knees.

Cullen shook his head. “No, ma’am. I was … indirectly involved with the shooting,” he explained. “Alistair and Amodisia asked that the security firm I work for, REDIS, provide extra security that day.”

“Evidently,” Alistair added, “I’d been right about that hunch. Just wanted to make sure everyone knows that I was right. The diner was a stupid idea.”

Cullen turned to him with an irritated scoff. “The diner was your stupid idea.”

“I never said it wasn’t, it absolutely was my terrible idea,” he agreed. “Still, I reached out to Cullen’s firm in September to keep up with the investigation. Redcliffe PD wasn’t …”

He cut off with a click of his teeth, eyeing Duncan with a guilty frown. Laden with the tray of drinks, he rejoined them, sitting in his own chair beside Alistair. Dower, his hooded glare and angular cheekbones cut an intimidating figure, all framed by thick black hair. Square and strong, his bearded jaw ground as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the neck of his white captain’s shirt.

“Redcliffe PD was doing absolutely nothing,” he finished his governor’s thoughts. “I knew something was wrong immediately. I just wish it hadn’t taken you as long to come to the same conclusion.”

Alistair grunted. “I was preoccupied. And terrified for Sia.”

Maker’s breath, she’d nearly forgotten about Amodisia. “Where is she, Alistair?”

Alistair gave her a reassuring pat on the knee. “Not to worry, she’s at home in Denerim. The manor is heavily guarded and has one of the most advanced security systems. She’s safe.”

Amallia glared at him. “Does she know you’re here?”

Alistair dug his phone from his pocket and tossed it to her as he picked up a drink from the tray. Amallia read the long conversation between Alistair and his wife starting earlier that afternoon. When she finished, two drinks remained on the tray, a short tumbler with reddish brown liquor and a large chunk of ice, the other filled with clear liquor and overloaded with crushed ice.

“Is this safe?” she asked as she returned his phone to him and picked up the dark drink.

“Dagna wrote it,” Alistair explained. “Some ridiculously complex program that I’m not able to explain, she said it would be the safest way to communicate while I was away.”

“Dagna?” Duncan asked. “My Dagna?”

Alistair rolled his eyes once more, sarcastic as ever. “Yes, your Dagna. I needed a closed channel to communicate with Sia while I was away and Dagna came through,” he explained, then returned his warm gaze to her. “Trust me, Mal, I know what she means to you. To us,” he assured her. “But she also wants this case solved. So, I’m not stopping for anything. If a lead comes up, I’m following it.”

Cullen perked up at that, swallowing a short sip of his drink. “Speaking of leads, why didn’t you just call me?”

Alistair looked from him to Duncan with a confident grin. “Would you like the honors? You tell it much better than I do.”

Duncan stood before them, picking the remaining glass from the tray and handing it to his wife. She smiled her thanks, then sipped from the tumbler as she settled in for Duncan’s explanation. The chief of remained standing, towering over them as he regaled them with his insider’s information.

“From May to August, the case was worked like any other,” he began. “Evidence was collected, logged, analyzed, and filed away. Given the staggering number of leads, I thought my detectives had this one in the bag,” he explained. “Boxes upon boxes of interviews, video and audio recordings of the event, eye-witnesses, and mounds of documentation.”

Cullen snarled at the last, hackles rising in fury. “They lied,” he spat. “It was a façade to make everyone believe they were investigating. Most of that evidence was just useless cannon fodder for anyone insane enough to try to sort it all out. They did it to derail the investigation.”

“Permanently,” Alistair added.

Duncan frowned as he continued. “I am partly to blame for that,” he started with a ragged sigh. “I knew it was happening and I could have put an end to it, could have stepped in and cleaned it all up. But, I didn’t want to tip my hand. As far as the two detectives were aware, they took care of everything and nobody knew otherwise.”

He fell silent then, arms folding across his chest and eyes staring ahead unseeing. A sip from his drink was robotic, wrote, like a program his mechanics followed without question. When he spoke again, his voice was so quiet, Amallia leaned closer to hear him.

“There wasn’t enough evidence to implicate the detectives,” Duncan continued. “By the time I realized there was a problem, it was too late. Most of the evidence that would have netted us the shooter or his employer was destroyed. And I couldn’t let on that I knew. It wasn’t just about the shooting anymore. There was a cover-up.”

Amallia interjected then, unable to remain quiet. “So, you sent in a … reverse mole to plant the Warden Capitals document.”

As if she had breathed new life into him, Duncan’s eyes brightened. “Precisely,” he agreed, eager once more. “If I could prove the detectives were intentionally sabotaging the case, then I could expose them.”

“And,” Amallia began as she stood, “that’s leverage. You could find out who put them up to it.”

“We could,” Duncan started, “but that would require hard evidence to even bring them in for questioning and –”

“But we have hard evidence,” Amallia interrupted, struggling to keep quiet in her excitement. “Alistair sent it to Cullen just a few days ago. It all ties out; where the money came from, filtered through Warden Capitals, and then where it went.”

Cullen’s side-eyed glare of warning stung, deflating her excitement. They were so close, how could he let a partial truth bother him? The police could investigate the missing money later, when they had an actual case.

“Alistair, I want nothing more than to help,” Duncan began, “but you’ve got to swear to me you have concrete evidence.”

“I will when you let me talk to your mole,” Alistair stated with a smirk.

“You mean when Cullen talks to my mole,” Duncan corrected, “seeing as that he’s the only licensed private investigator in the room. Amallia, I hope you’ve been extremely careful, you really should not be involved at all.”

“I ah,” she stuttered as she returned to her seat, another hole punched in her bubble. “I only know what Cullen’s discussed with me. I’ve helped him look at what those detectives considered evidence, but I think the investigation, at this point, is beyond legal protection given what they did to it, no?”

A crooked, yet thoughtful smile spread across his lips, leaving her confused. “Ever thought about a career in law?”

Void take her, but she gaped. “I would make for a terrible lawyer,” she excused. “Not to mention, the work seems a little boring,” she added with a jab at Cullen. “All that paper work …”

Duncan chuckled, a knowing sound. “You’re not wrong,” he started. “Well, then, it seems we have an actual case on our hands again. Cullen, I’ll put you in contact with my man. Alistair, you may want to head home tonight, yet.”

“Yes, sir,” Alistair said, deferential to his mentor as usual. “Another drink wouldn’t hurt? For the road?”

Duncan accompanied him to the bar, an arm around his shoulders as they talked of a time years ago, remembered with fond reverence.