#going to add one of those relationship charts to the end at some point :)
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Hello! I wanted to do one of those 'meet the party' introduction posts for PCs and major recurring NPCs. Info below the cut, and best viewed on a blog :D Spoilers beware!
MEET THE PARTY
Robin “Basil” Cantemir (circle of dreams druid/wood half-elf feytouched) (PC) he/him
STATUS: Alive
CONDITIONS: Dark Power (Dahlver-nar)
Cradle-robbed (literal) and forced into fey servitude. Party dad and default party face because no one else is remotely qualified. Romantically involved with Ireena and currently has her as a tooth in his mouth.
Ireena Kolyana (NPC) she/her
STATUS: Deceased
CONDITIONS: is tooth
A sweetheart. Party darling and moral center before her untimely death, undeath, and disintegration. Currently brought back as a tooth in Basil’s mouth.
Vicelinus aka Vice (grave cleric/variant human aka lizard) (PC) he/him
STATUS: Alive
CONDITIONS: none
Wandering holyman and servant of the Raven Queen. Self serving coward turned reluctant protagonist. Major arsonist tendencies. Party healer and part time devout follower (sorry Raven Queen.)
Milivoj (champion fighter/human) (PC) he/him
STATUS: Alive
CONDITIONS: Dark Power (Taar Haak), Dark Power (Tarakamedes)
Barovian and former oniichan. Extremely normal mcnormie normalson when he’s not shaking like a frightened chihuahua or being racist against Vistani. Party tank and Basil’s figurative son.
Roma (gloomstalker ranger/human) (PC) he/him
STATUS: Alive
CONDITIONS: Dark Power (Osybus)
Party dog with anger issues and primary DPS. Raised by wolves and socialized via Fey and it shows. Smells awful.
Maraschino aka Elle aka Kristiana aka Twothka etc. (trickster rogue/changeling) (PC) he/him
STATUS: Deceased
CONDITIONS: Dark Power (Vaund)
Resident carefree prettyboy, wannabe gentleman, and former face of the party. Cluelessly insensitive. Roma’s closest friend in the party before he was consumed by Vaund. Haunts the narrative.
Van Richten (NPC) he/him
STATUS: Alive
Tsundere old man and verified Sadgirl (TM). Roma and Ez’s mentor, and the former’s favorite person ever.
Ez (NPC) she/her
STATUS: Alive
Too cool for the party. Puts “the fool” in “fools go where angels fear to tread.” Roma’s maybe friend and not-girlfriend.
Stella Wachter (Fated Ally) (NPC) she/her
STATUS: Alive
CONDITIONS: Existing (The Stella Condition)
Doing bad! Keeps DDLG-ing the party and giving them psychic damage because of it. Party’s fated ally that they want to teach counterspell to so bad.
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Party doesn't have a group name, but the dynamic is four (formerly five) socially nerfed individuals and one (1) token girl. Practiced situation escalators. Frequent bickering and infighting due to conflicting value differences, stubborn egos, and the general stress of Barovia. Extremely rough around the edges, but through trial and error settled on a tenuous alliance and mutual understanding.
#strahdposting#meet the party#ez#roma#vr#going to add one of those relationship charts to the end at some point :)#real reason i made those portraits was because i wanted to do this LOL#full party! full party! gangs all here :)
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heyyy, so um saw u was doing reqs and i've got one! would you please do a head cannon for yk the bloodline, obviously? but like how they are in a relationship/how they are when ...(you can make up the situation).
no smut involved please, unless ur talkin abt the relationship thing x
please and thank u, btw i ur writing is so mwah, gorgeous. ☆☆
𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐜
🔖-Tysm girlie! 💋
𝐉𝐞𝐲
➴ Sentimental and mushy, especially when he's working on the road and away from you. It gets lonely not having the one he loves alongside him as he's traveling. So expect sappy love texts and calls, with him expressing just how much he misses you. When he's making those long drives, he'll call just to hear your voice accompany him.
➴ Easy-going for the most part, with a little bit of a temper that only you're able to calm. He constantly reiterates that you're his peace, about to ease his mind and relax his mood whenever he's bothered. He looks to you for comfort.
➴ So in love with you he proposed after barely a year, as he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
➴ Introduced you to your first traditional samoan tattoo that was done by Mike, as both you and Jey got each others names tatted on each other along with some designs. During the tatting session he was emotional as he shared a big part of himself with his wife. He got a third palm tree with your name on it, as you got one too with his name.
𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲
➴ Extremely goofy and light-hearted, it's like dating a sitcom character the way he jokes and plays all day. There's never a dull moment with him, he always keeps you smiling and laughing. It brings him immense joy to see you in good spirits because of his silly actions. It makes for all the better when you're just as playful and goofy, as yall practically have the same personality.
➴ The man is stuck to you like glue, always hugged up on you whether at home or out in public. He swears he just needs that constant physical contact, feeling your body up against his, "baby I need yo warmth."
➴ Aggravates you till no end about having a baby, as he desires one more child. "C'monnn, lemme have you round here barefoot and pregnant."
➴ Matches your freak 1000% 2 freaky frogs who aren't afraid to get it in with even a tinge of privacy. He's turned on by the very sight of you and can't get enough, his sex drive is off the charts. If he's not complimenting your body, he's whispering naughty things in your ear about the various positions he can have you in. If theres an opportunity to get a quickie, yall are taking it.
𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨
➴ Very attentive, taking in the little details you didn't even think he'd notice about you. He's surprised you with gifts, based on your small interests and hobbies. You have an impressive lego collection thanks to him. He's great observer who knows your likes & dislikes without even having to tell him.
➴ a good listener, but he has to be because you're a certified yapper sometimes, going on and on, still his attention never waivers. He may not add on to the conversation, but he'll ad-lib with a- "mhm, uh-huh, word? damn thats crazy" to let you know he hasn't lost interest. He loves to see you so passionate about whatever topic you're rambling on about, it's cute to him.
➴ Loves to pamper his baby, specifically in foot rubs as you relax with your feet in his lap. His sultry voice serenades you as his firm hands knead in motions, applying pressure to points that'll have you holding back moans.
"You like that baby? How that feel?"
𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧
➴ Super chill and laid back, just a simple man who lovingly puts up with your energetic ways. Often joking about how hyper you are.
➴ Keeps you well grounded and level-headed, doesn't allow you to stress over anything when your emotions start to get the best of you. He doesn't do arguments, attitudes, or silent treatments. Wanting proper communication of any issues either of you have, but he can get you in check if need be.
➴ a romantic who knows how to set the mood, with dates that see an entire restaurant rented out for the two of you as he likes his privacy.
➴ Dominant figure in and out the bedroom, providing for you in every way, making you feel comfortable in submitting to him. He takes charge and takes the lead as the man of the house, with no complaints from you. And in the bedroom? This man bends and twists your body every which way for hours, leaving nothing to be desired.
🏷️: @trc-punzel @shes2real @cyberdejos2 @whatdoeseverybodywant @venusesworld @thatone-girly @yeaiamme2 @slut4slashersluv @von2dutch @theninthwonder @strqirhrts @romanreignsbae @sayyestoheav3nn
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Lesson 3: So How Do I Verbs (And Sometimes Nouns), Then?
Hello students!
Today I'm going to (finally) explain to you how to conjugate verbs (and how to make nouns possessive; they work the same way) in Phyrexian.
Along the way I'll teach you useful stuff like how to make nouns plural.
Once again, this is an example of how Phyrexian works very differently than English does.
Look at this Phyrexian word, solm. It means smack or hit:
solm
Or, in some dictionaries, you'll see the same word, but with a blank spot between the last two consonants, like
sol_m
Don't worry about the blank just yet. Just know that eventually Some Stuff Goes In There, and that solm and sol_m are the same word, for now.
You change words in Phyrexian by doing things to their vowels. Think of it this way:
Phyrexians don't like vowels. They sound all fleshy. The consonants are clicky and sharp and sometimes straight up metallic, so they can stay. But the vowels? We do weird things to those because EW VOWELS BLEH.
(Yes, this is canon. Phyrexia, please get some therapy. You're both metallic and organic and that's perfectly fine. Stop hating yourselves please.)
Most words in Phyrexian can be nouns or verbs, depending on where you put them in your sentence. (Remember: if it's at the end of a sentence, it's almost certainly a verb.)
So this is also a word I could use for the noun, a hit or a blow or a slap or the like. But suppose I want to say "hits/blows" rather than specifically one hit or blow.
I make nouns plural by doubling the first vowel. This gives me:
soolm
Punches!
If you see a word in Phyrexian that's in the subject or object position and it has a doubled vowel like this, oo or aa or ɒɒ or what have you, you're almost certainly dealing with a plural noun.
But that's less fun than throwing the punches, right? So how do we say "I punch you" or "She punches them" or the like?
That's what our magic underscore is for! We add in a vowel between the last two consonants to tell us who is hitting who.
This is technically called a relational infix. (Relational because it expresses the Relationship between subject and object and Infix like Prefix or Suffix but it goes In the word.)
I think they're called this because a "conjugation" implies verbs only, and these are used for other things too. But if you want to call them conjugations I promise I won't tell.
Here are all the relational infixes, from the chart I posted last night:
What the heck is all this?
Well, I'll tell you.
The horizontal axis tells you who you start from (who's the subject of the sentence, generally), and the vertical tells you who you're pointing toward.
So if I'm trying to say "I hit you," I look at the horizontal axis and find 1st person (I or we), and then search vertically for 2nd person. That square reads "a" (with something funny in parentheses. That doesn't apply here which is why I picked this verb. I will get to that, but for now you can just think about which vowel goes where.)
Therefore I-hit-you is
solam
If I'm doing this right now, I need my mood marker to make it a full sentence. So I grab my xe from lesson 2 and my beginning and ending punctuation and of course my cool looking spacebar because Phyrexians are extra and it's great and
^xe-solam.
Declaration: I-hit-you.
I hit you.
This is a weird system if you're used to English (or, like, literally any other language I know.) But the cool thing about it is that you can ALSO use this schema for sentences that you have to get a little weirder with in English:
^xe-solom.
Declaration: I-hit-me.
I hit myself.
What the heck is a "myself?" How do you decide when you say myself or me or I? Phyrexia don't care. If I verb toward me that means I-verb-to-I and there you go.
This is also useful because you can also use I-toward-I, you-toward-you, them-toward-them to indicate possession. My compleation. My minions. My vegemite sandwich. Whatever. It's gonna have an o in it, and that o is going to be stuck between the last two consonants. I am told this is cozy.
But there are a couple of weird things, of course, before you go forth and speak or type Weird Cyborg at people.
One is first person. In English we have two ways to talk about this. "I," meaning the speaker as a particular individual, and "we," meaning the speaker AND a group the speaker is part of.
Phyrexians are a Borg expy. There is no difference in Phyrexian between I and we (or you and y'all, or him and them.) The reader/listener gathers it from context.
I believe that when it's important to indicate that you mean yourself, for example if you're trying to express "I'm going to leave the group and go after our enemy, while you stay here" you would name yourself. Like:
Declarative: I/we Fierceawakening I-go-[to-]them.
This is headcanon at the moment but it's educated guess headcanon.
Another confusing one is "fourth person." As English speakers, we are used to first person (I/we), second person (you), and third person (he/she/it/they). Phyrexia, what is this?
Most honest answer is I don't know for sure. This one trips me up something AWFUL.
What it's described as being used for is the generic, like "One must do such and such." Hence "one" in the chart above.
In practice, it seems like it's often used not just in that way but also for phrases like
"son of Yawgmoth"
In English, this would be 3rd>3rd, because both the son and Yawgmoth are neither me nor you and so would be "him." But in Phyrexian, 3>3 would sound like you mean "he is his own son," so... no, can't do that. You need another person, so that "he" the son and "he" the Father of Machines (and of This Guy) are differentiated.
But is it 3rd to 4th or 4th to 3rd? And why?
Again: I honestly don't know. This is not how any other language I speak works.
But most examples of this we have in sources are 4>3, or y.
So I'm going to cautiously advise 4>3 until I see more examples of 3>4 and can reason out the difference and give you an actual explanation of what the hell is going on.
So now: those weird parentheses.
These mean that in certain situations you change something else about the word along with adding your infix.
The two ways of changing words are:
Clanking: If you see a ' in parentheses after or before your infix, it means that (if the consonant isn't already clanked) you look up whether the consonant indicated has a clanked version, and if it does, you use that.
so a(') (3>1, they verb me/us) means that you add an a, and then if the ending consonant isn't clanked, you look up whether it has a clanked version and clank it if it does. Since there is no clanked m, solam could be they-hit-me OR I-hit-you.
Similarly, (')a (1>3, I/we verb them) means you find where you put your a, then look at the consonant before it and clank it, if it isn't already and there's a clanked version of that consonant. Since there is no clanked l, solam can ALSO be I/we-hit-them.
I imagine that for verbs like this that don't have clankable consonants, surrounding context is important.
Vowel Harmony: For words with some vowels (a, e, and i, but not others), when you add certain infixes, you also change the initial vowel.
This is shown by an ɒ (the first letter on the chart above) in parentheses before the infix vowel. So say I had this verb:
'at_n, "greet/acknowledge"
and I want to say "I greet you," as I did in "Hello, students!" above.
I look at my chart for 1>2, and I see that my infix is "a." Easy enough!
But I can't just say "atan," as I see my ɒ indicating that I have to harmonize my vowels. So I look at my chart and see "a becomes ɒ," the first one, and therefore I
'ɒtan, "I-greet-you."
...change the initial vowel and add my infix.
From what we're told this by itself can be said like we say hello, without a mood marker. But to formally make it a sentence since we're in class:
^xe-'ɒtan.
Declaration: I greet you.
#fierce teaches phyrexian#gitaxian braindump 3#relational infixes for me! relational infixes for you! relational infixes for them! re--*bricked*
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so so so doobee i might regret this later but but but what if so
do you know dress up darling? that one anime with cosplaying girl so like. the premise. the boy sew the clothes while the girl cosplay.
so like—barou can cook and clean. what if he can also sew. like this brainrot suddenly hit me in the middle of a workout and idk. so like cosplayer yn and barou who unwillingly but somehow ended up sewing cosplay clothes for yn. like do you see the vision? getting closer as time pass, the unwilling bussines(?) partner to friendship to ????, the getting in personal space at first due to necessity but at some point because the two of them got so used to it it kinda just become the norm for them.
like okay idk where am i going with this but here you go do u see the vision of this brainrot babe??? ok ily im going back to workout muach
YOURE SO RIGHT WAIT PLS CONTINUE W MORE BAROU BRAIN ROT HAHA I NEED TO FEED MY BRAIN WITH THIS AU MORE
Okay so I’ve seen a few eps of the show (and I kinda dropped it because … boobs ig but the premise is super cute)
With barou I have like this idea of — ugly meet cute, miscommunication, slow burn, hurt/comfort, passionate/wholesome type of love, and reader becomes like besties with his sisters and his sisters are like the biggest cheerleaders for the relationship…
And like… it’s not unusual for him to pick up “traditional feminine” hobbies and skills just because his whole household is filled with women that he respects. (Barou light novel when????) like I wouldn’t be surprised if he can sew, takes spring cleaning very seriously, uses feminine perfume instead of wearing masculine scents, makes those cute ass bentos for his sisters, definitely wears a pink frilly apron when he’s cooking, has bunny house slippers, and also has a 10 step Korean skin care routine similar to Reo LOL
An idea of forced proximity for the sake of a business type relationship w barou is also super cute too… ugh wait I can’t stop thinking about this LMAO look what have you done to me…….
Edit to add more self indulgent HCs: imagine him helping your family during big holiday dinners… being all nervous around your parents and wanting to make a good impression but he’s also socially awkward and comes off as distant towards other males (at least that’s what I think LOL) like he’s fine w women but tense with men…
ALSO I LOOKED AT HIS BIRTH CHART AND ITS FILLED WITH SO MUCH CANCER AND TAURUS TRAITS AAAHHH
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Some Brett Hand Headcanons because I Binged Inside Job and Brett is Rotating Around My Brain Like a Potato in a Microwave. (Mild nsfw warning)
ADHD is what this man has, this isn't a controversial take. That being said the Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria that Brett has literally punches you in the face like the axe body spray he wears.
We all see him as the biggest golden retriever boy they have in this universe but almost everyone undermines his achievements. I'm almost 100% sure he got into Yale because of nepotism and him being from the most comically evil old white conservative family this show could muster, but Brett still did graduate from Yale. That's no small feat.
The crew took a trip to Brett's apartment one day. It's a small, modest, but very modern 1-bedroom apartment in DC. Brett apologizes for the place looking like a mess but to everyone's shock the apartment is spotless. To the point that it looks like he vacuumed before leaving the house. Everything cabinet in his kitchen is labeled and everything is organized. His spice cabinet is alphabetically organized.
Brett actively has a planner and bulletin board/calendar that has important dates written down. Brett has the type of ADHD where if it isn't written down and it isn't in front of him, it doesn't exist. Brett has everyone's birthday written down, every major meeting and every spontaneous trip to the bar is added to the planner.
So I am budding astrologer and I get heavy HEAVY autumnal birth chart energy from Brett. He absolutely gives me Libra sun energy. The jawline gives me Virgo rising. Plus a Sagittarius Moon. Plus he has 3 very favorable placements in his inner planets (Virgo Mercury, Libra Venus, Scorpio Mars)
So we're all just gonna ignore the fact that Brett physically assaults the team via the proxy of Puppet Brett at the end of his episode in S2 E4? It's off screen but Puppet Brett is throwing hands. Brett may be a cripplingly chronic people-pleaser and will go through the hazing of 38 different fraternities just so he will get the validation he craves, but when you do finally push Brett off that edge. After many, MANY days of Brett holding it in, Brett is going to maim.
I have a feeling Brett does want to be a father one day. However he's agreed with his therapist he is not emotionally ready right now to have a child. Plus he also agreed with his therapist that he wants his siblings and parents to have next to nothing to do with his child.
Brett has such a praise kink it's not funny. I'm like 90% sure if you look longingly into his eyes, tussle his hair, rub his inner thigh, and call him a good boy he'll melt into butter. It's that easy.
Also we know that canonically Brett is kinkier than he lets on. When he swapped bodies with Glenn and had sex with his wife. Glenn's wife admitted that Brett had done "Dark, Erotic things." Also Myc read his thoughts aloud and admitted to the group that Brett thought Reagan's mom was hot. So I headcanon that Brett has a bit of a mommy/older women kink but also Brett has the body and the stamina to get you off. Add that to his insane people-pleasing tendencies and Brett is going to rock your freaking world.
Attached to Brett's apartment is a whole fancy expensive fitness club. That was one of Brett's priorities in looking for an apartment. He was a successful personal trainer for the state department and on Brett's days off he does still help train his old clientele. He's just one of those people who really likes to exercise and he gets cranky/upset even if he doesn't get some physical exercise in. Do anything long enough and eventually becomes a habit.
Brett is bisexual but has an emotional/physical preference towards women. Brett definitely experimented and realized he actually liked doing the deed with men. However it isn't his first choice.
I also believe Brett hasn't had a serious committed relationship. While Reagan has had a few relationships Brett hasn't had much in the way of S/O's mostly because he'd much rather friend zone himself than risk becoming hated by someone because of something he did. Poor guy. Plus Brett hasn't had many people who have wanted him beyond just a one-night stand.
Brett is a bomb-ass cook. He picked it up naturally since even though he had a butler being a child of nepotism without all the benefits kind of sucks. But Brett learned how to cook and is a surprisingly healthy one too. I can very much see Brett being like "Whole Foods isn't that expensive if you're just buying produce and fresh ingredients!"
Brett isn't afraid of spiders but he HATES cockroaches. Brett has broken a lease on an apartment because they just weren't doing enough to solve the roach problem in his building.
Brett was an emo/goth in high school as well as being on the high school football team. Brett also is in his early 30's when the show aired in 2021. Plus even though he was born in the 90's he's a huge fan of 80's sitcoms. Which means Brett was probably born in 1990 or at the latest 1991. All this to say Brett is a fan of early 2000's emo and you can't fight me on this. Brett was into My Chemical Romance, Wheezer, Thursday, Panic! At the Disco, Paramore.
#brett hand#Inside Job#inside job netflix#inside job spoilers#BRAIN ROT#this man is rotating in my brain like a potato in a microwave.
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I have a question for you that I really hope you'll answer. But if you think it might start discourse you'd rather avoid, I understand if you ignore this.
So I love both OG and LS and I follow a bunch of popular blogs in both fandoms. but so many of those folks watch only one of the two shows and are pretty rude about the other one, by insulting cast members and making fun of even the popular well-received storylines. often they don't tag such posts in any particular way so there's no way to filter those out. I sent a few of them asks requesting if they'd tag such posts. Some agreed to but they haven't actually done it. I've seen you interact in a pretty friendly way with some of those accounts and I'm wondering, how do you do it? Everyone always says to unfollow but I genuinely don't want to miss out on the other posts these ppl share. I enjoy those other posts. It's just these particular posts that diss the shows that I want to avoid but can't. I've tried ignoring it, I've tried laughing it off, but I don't think I'm very good at managing my emotions because I always still end up feeling low and negative when I see such posts. How do you manage to interact with people with opinions you clearly don't share? I'd really appreciate any tips. I really don't want to withdraw from these two fandoms but I don't know how to remain while also maintaining a healthy emotional state.
Firstly, I'm sorry this has happened to you. I really am. And I want to stress that this reply is 100% around my experience and the way I have curated my fandom experience, and YMMV. I hope that it doesn't vary too much but this is how I deal with it. I'm going to tag a few people in this, people who I have on my dash, purely to illustrate the diversity and how you can approach things.
I'm also going to pre-empt things and say that if you read a line and you get mad at me for that one line, I want you to do two things. Firstly, I want you to go outside and touch grass. Secondly, I want you to maybe read the full thing and engage some level of critical thinking before you start yelling at me that I'm being inconsiderate because you have a grass allergy so how DARE I tell you to go touch grass?
Also, because I want this to have a bit of a reach and I know people do curate their dashes, I'm going to be a bit sneaky with how I refer to things to actively circumvent any filters. Should make sense what I'm actually referring to but if you're not sure then please ask.
Step one
Curate your experience. I mean this. One of the few joys of this hellsite is that you are in control over your dash. You can't control who people on your dash reblog but you can start with who is on your dash. If you don't want to block anyone then you can filter by blog names and install add ons like Tumblr Savior.
Step two
Remember why you're on this hellsite in the first place. Chances are it's for fandom purposes. And, given the premise of your ask, I'm going to focus on the TV element of it. So you're here because you like one or both of the weewoo shows and you want to share thoughts and ideas and reblogs of gif sets of people who are WAY too pretty to just be out there like normal people. And because we're hardwired that way, we want to seek connections with people. So we follow blogs and we talk to people and we have our mutuals and we message then and chat with them and we develop relationships with them because we all watch the same TV show.
But – and this is the point that I think a lot of fandom forgets. It's a fucking TV show. That's it. A silly little show which is 99% designed for entertainment and distraction. I am not ignoring the fact that there will be parts of both shows which have impact above and beyond the show, but Ryan Murphy et al did not set out to make shows with the primary goals of changing people's lives.
It is a TV show. It isn't actually life or death. So the first thing you need to ask yourself I have represented in a nice little flow chart with ALT text:
Negative and hateful ideas
Yes, it's a TV show. But that doesn't stop shitty people saying shitty things. I love that both OG and LS have a diverse cast. I love that both of them explore difficult issues such as addiction and a sense of self-worth. I love that both of them have characters who are tragedy magnets and are both dealing with an entire back story of guilt and grief and a sense of failure and so we are rooting for them to find the self-worth that we know they deserve. Is this Evan? Tyler Kennedy? Both of them? Maybe Eduado, or Carlos? Both captains have their tragedy stories.
But what I'm talking about here is people making comments that are, no matter your views or stances, way out of line. Be them about the characters or the actors, you know exactly the kind that I mean. Commenting on the ethnicity, gender, sexuality of characters/actors. Making statements about race or religion. The Big Stuff that most of us know is way out of line.
So if someone is hating on "Buddy" because one of them is of Latinex descent? Screw you, step on a Lego. If you're hating on "Tarlus" because both of the actors are queer? You can fuck right off now. If you dislike Hen's storylines because she's a proud, queer black woman? Sit on a spike. If you want Paul to shut up and go away because he's trans? Walk off a short pier.
If you wish Owen had less seggsy and screen time? You'll find friends in both camps! But that's about the character and the storytelling.
A good rule of thumb is: can it be changed? If no, don't be a bitch about it. Oliver can't change his birthmark, Alisha can't change her skin colour, Rafael can't change his sexuality, Brian can't change his gender identity.
But they could write "Buddy" as queer. They could write Owen not drooling over some woman. And so we are going to have and express opinions over this.
We know where those lines are and those are the ones we have to draw. We have to shut down those voices and make it clear that they are not welcome because a) we need to make sure there are more safe spaces than there aren't, and b) we need to send the message that this kind of hate isn't OK.
Now where fandom seems to have an issue is where it comes to different opinions. This is because we equate what we like with who we are, and for many people fandom is a part of their identity as a person. There are so many reasons for this – good and otherwise. You see yourself represented in the show, the characters. The storylines resonate with you. It got you through the worst time in your life. You met amazing people because of it. Fandom is a good thing, it truly is, and it exists BECAUSE people take shows and characters and storylines to heart.
So if you come at the fandom then it feels like you're under attack. But you're not. Have another flow chart, also with alt text.
And I'm going to tag my wonderful friend @capseycartwright in this because she hates LS with a passion. I would go so far as to say it's probably visceral? Still follow her, still love her, and I still read her "Buddy" fics because she's an amazing writer. And the reason for this is because there isn't a single comment she makes about LS that is personal or hateful or spiteful. She just doesn't like it.
Now even if she did make a post saying "anyone who watches LS is dumb" I'll still follow her. Because if I follow my flow chart, even though I would call her a friend and maybe say I know her? She's not someone I'm related to and I don't have to deal with her on the day to day. Also she's not saying "Jen is dumb for liking LS". Even if she was, still not related so whatevs.
I'm also going to tag @paperstorm who isn't an OG fan, doesn't watch it at all, isn't at all shy in expressing her opinions on anything. If OG stuff crosses her dash she doesn’t engage. [Edited to clarify]
Now when @capseycartwright makes a post about LS, one of two things happen. Most of the time I just keep on scrolling. She's expressing her opinion about a show she doesn't watch, doesn't like, and has picked up on something that she's commenting on. She's not saying anything awful that would be picked up on the first flow chart so why do I care? I'm not going to get her to change her mind and honestly? It doesn't matter if she does or she doesn't.
I may comment – like I did on her wedding post – if I feel I can offer something to help explain something. She posted about "Tarlus" not cancelling the wedding so, as someone who has watched the episodes and had the information, I pointed out that they were absolutely going to do that but even the grieving widow was all for them having it go ahead.
The trick here is to be respectful. If I come at her with "well ACTUALLY" then it's not going to work. I just dropped in, said my bit, then left. People are still going to think the wedding shouldn't have happened - hell, there's people in the LS fandom who feel like that.
Could it have been written differently? Yes. So opinions get to be had and respected so long as they're respectful, as per the first flow chart.
We can debate if they should have gotten married in the episode. I'm not debating their right to get married.
When @paperstorm responds to an OG ask about something, same principle. Is she being hateful? No. Can I add anything to help explain/clarify? If yes, do it then move on. [Edited for clarity]
Be the change etc etc
If I wanted to start a fight, I could drop into the tags "OMG Buddy/Tarlus is awful and the characters deserve so much better". And people who have made fandom a huge part of who they are will take that a lot more to heart than people who haven't. Only you know where you fall on that spectrum.
Most people are not going to change their minds. I'm not going to be able to convince @capseycartwright that Tarlus are endgame and get her signed up to the "Peaches and Cherries" crew. I'm not going to convince @paperstorm that the OG crew are a wonderful example of how the love of your found family can help you rebuild and find strength with your blood family. And neither of them are going to convince me to bail on the other show!
Fandom doesn't recruit through arguments. Fandom recruits through gif sets and fics and metas and all of the good stuff that comes out of enjoying a show. Fandom grows through people sharing their love of a show and the characters involved in it. It doesn't recruit and it doesn't grow through arguments.
So if people are saying stuff you don't agree with, so long as they are not hurting anyone? Let them. Why are you ruining your peace and your enjoyment yelling into the wind? If you don't follow them and you're only coming across them because they are tagging their hate so it shows in the tags, then realise they're doing it to get the reaction from you. I'm not letting that petty win so I will keep on scrolling. And if it's on my dash? Well then I will just check that they've not decided to indulge in some -ism statements, and then I will keep on scrolling.
Because fandom is supposed to be fun. It's supposed to be uplifting. And there is enough shit out there in the world right now without yucking someone else's yum. Even if you don't understand it. (I don't understand how anyone can eat mushrooms, but I'm not running around a restaurant knocking them off people's plates.)
We like different things. We like what others dislike. And there are so many ways for you to find room and balance those things in your life if you want to. If they don't want to then that's their issue, not yours. Think about the friends you have IRL – do you share every single interest with them? Some of my closest friends are huge Drag Race fans, but not once have I had an issue with them discussing it in our group chat or making plans which exclude me for them to go and see shows.
I don't care that @capseycartwright is a huge Buddy fan. She loves them, it brings her joy, and so I love that for her. I love that she has something in this world which brings her enjoyment, even if I don't share it.
I don't care that @paperstorm doesn't like OG, and I'm pretty certain she doesn't care that I do.
What I do care about is whether it matters in the grand scheme of things. And honestly? More of fandom doesn't matter in the Big Picture than does. It matters when we use it to do great things. It matters when it helps people feel seen and heard and represented. It doesn't matter when your ship isn't canon/gets married.
tl;dr – if people are being deliberately shitty then the block button is your friend. Otherwise, why does it matter if someone has a different opinion to you?
I know this has gotten stupid long, but I wanted to do it justice because you seem to be struggling with it. And if you ever want to talk to me off anon then please do.
#fandom talk#jen answers stuff#anonymous#not tagging shows or ships#because I don't want this caught in blacklists
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Episode 10 TMP Quick Thoughts
Housekeeping and Prologue
Hello, this is Douglysium and you might not know me as that guy who wrote over 100 pages of analysis on the Eye (which can be read on Tumblr here (https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/735599414228484097/the-relationships-between-the-dread-powers-the) or Google Docs here (The Relationships Between the Dread Powers: The Eye- Knowledge is Fear and Ignorance is Bliss)) or as that guy who wrote an article on the Extinction (which can be read on Tumblr here(https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/717929126195003392/what-would-avatars-of-the-extinction-be-like-a) and Google Docs here(What would Avatars of the Extinction be like?: A TMA Speculation)). Suffice to say I might be a bit of a TMA fan. Also, spoilers for TMP up until episode 10. You can read my ramblings on the last episode here (Episode 9 TMP Quick Thoughts).
However, Protocol offers a very unique opportunity and experience for me because I didn’t actually get into TMA until after it was over and I binged all of it. So this is my first time experiencing something even remotely similar to what the original TMA fans probably experienced when waiting for each episode week by week and slowly having to put everything together with the limited information they had. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring since this might be my only chance to do something similar. However, I’m working on some longer form TMA content so I can’t spend as much time on these articles giving a bunch of super detailed thoughts. I will try to keep these short and that inevitably might mean some could have questions about why I think or predict certain things and in those cases I would probably recommend you read at least some of the two articles I mentioned above to get a better idea of where I’m coming from. This also means I won’t be giving you a play-by-play of every single thing that happens in the episode so I encourage you to listen to or read them yourselves and feel free to comment if you feel something is important.
These reviews are probably going to end up focusing mostly on the Entities and their manifestations as they are what I have thought about the most and spent the most time interpreting and there’s been a lot of… interesting theories floating around about how the Entities are manifesting that I want to go over.
Finally, I’m just going to say it right now, spoiler warning for all of The Magnus Archives. I know that Jon and co said one could start with Protocol and be fine, and while that’s probably true, media like this tends to be made in conversation with or take into consideration what came before it in the irl chronology in order to connect them. While I’m sure you could skip The Magnus Archives, I don't really see the point of skipping over it when we are already getting characters from TMA showing up in TMP in Protocol. So to me it’s pretty clear that if we want to understand the full picture of TMP and all the things it is trying to say then we can’t just try to pretend TMA doesn’t exist or scrub it away. Just because you could understand what’s happening without the context in broad strokes doesn’t mean you're getting all the nuances.
These articles are meant to be quick and short so sorry if there’s typos and if I don’t address every possible question or possibility. I don’t want to repeat myself too much in this series outside of the prologue so be sure to skim some of my other articles.
Episode 10 “Saturday Night”
This starts off with a TV interview hosted by Geraldine Hardy featuring Nigel Dickerson about ““Mr. Bonzo’s On His Way” which topped charts for over 11 weeks.” Well, actually 12 weeks according to Nigel. To which Geraldine adds “12 weeks, smashing the record for TV tie-in music and launching a merchandise empire.” So Mr. Bonzo’s On His Way is a pretty big deal and I can see why Gwen might have been surprised Lena didn’t seem to know anything about Nigel or his work in the last episode.
It’s implied that Nigel hasn’t been on TV recently when we get
NIGEL
“It’s an absolute pleasure to be here Geraldine. Nice to be on TV again.”
GERALDINE
“It has been a while, hasn’t it?”
NIGEL
“I’ve kept busy.”
We are also told that Mr. Bonzo first debuted 25 years ago. Nigel says, with what the transcripts call “odd energy”, “I mean, it started as a joke…” Long story short, Channel Six (which is apparently a part of the BBC’s(British Broadcasting Corporation)) took a gamble and offered Nigel a spot as the host of their Saturday night variety show. Still, ““Nigel Dickerson presents Saturdays on Six” or “Nigel’s SOS” as they started calling it, really took off. I mean, at the end of the day it was still the same sort of variety show that BBC and ITV were running on Saturday primetime: skits, music, interviews, some on-location features. What marked us out though was that we didn’t take ourselves nearly as seriously as them. The whole conceit was that the set was built like an enormous comedy dungeon, and I’d been imprisoned by “Mr. Six.””
Mr. Six was a character that acted as the “fictional head of Channel Six” and the joke around the character was that Nigel would have to do a “good show” in order to be released from the fictional dungeon within the show. One of the show’s beats was that Mr. Six would call Nigel and angrily explain that “he’d gotten a complaint from some busybody writing in with a name like Mrs. Sourpucker or Mr. Smallprick” and then Nigel would be told an outlandish rule he needed to follow to much comedic effect. “I’d be told I had to do the whole show without… I don’t know, using the words “up next” or standing on one leg or something and people loved it. They really loved it.”
Then Geraldine asks about Mr. Bonzo, which implies that this topic is what at least Geraldine seems to be most interested in. It could even be what this interview is supposed to be about. “Yes. Mr. Bonzo. Of course. Well, one of our big things was pranks. We had a whole section called “You Got Berried!” where we’d invite on some serious public figure and make them look a bit silly, like, uh, get a famous footballer to do a bunch of kick-ups but we’d weighted the ball, and at the end I’d come out, say “You Got Berried!” (Not to be confused with The Buried) and give them this big golden raspberry trophy. It was all in fun, of course. No guests were hurt.” So then Rich, Nigel’s producer, came up with the idea of “inviting a famous person on, someone really serious, and we tell them we’re going to have them do a segment with a popular children’s entertainer. Now, obviously these folks won’t have any idea about what kids are actually watching, so we could come up with the most horrendous thing, claim kids loved it and see how long it took for the guest to realize that they were the joke. That they’d been “berried”.” So Nigel designs a character that is “this awful clown character – this big bulbous, splotchy suit, running around, screaming his own name and generally being a nightmare.”
Geraldine asks Nigel who came up with this character’s name and Nigel replies “You know, I honestly don’t remember. I know it wasn’t me or Rich, but at some point someone said it and the name just stuck. I don’t really know what else to say about it. His name is Mr. Bonzo.” This is the part where I do what I always do and try to frame the statements or encounters through the lens of Smirke’s 14 (plus The Extinction) to note if there’s any parallels or evidence that these are / aren’t the same Entities from TMA. The fact that Nigel doesn’t remember who came up with the character's name is most likely just a throwaway line and who actually came up with the name doesn’t really matter. But I’m here to give you my thoughts even if they are a bit of a stretch.
As I’ve mentioned in a previous article The Stranger seems to be the Entity tied the most to forgetting things and memory loss. “In MAG 165 (Revolutions) we see Not-Sasha watch over a Domain that takes the form of a merry-go-round with people fighting over faces. People with no faces must fight over the faces of others to rip them off and regain some sense of identity. When they lose their face it is said “And soon enough they will forget they ever even had one, rest assured; it’s best to step the dance and keep your face secured as much as you are able. Just. Keep. Running.” In case there is any debate about what The Stranger embodies in MAG 200 it is stated “And as they learned to know their friends and kin, so too did they learn to fear the unknown figure, the coming of the stranger” and in MAG 092 (Nothing Beside Remains) Jonah tells Jon “We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown.” while in MAG 111 (Family Business) Jon says “The Stranger is the unknown. The uncanny.” and Gerard doesn’t correct him. Theoretically the fear of the unknown would probably often include the fear of forgetting something as you would no longer know it. The idea that there’s something you once knew but now you don’t, and so it is unknown. This obviously would overlap with The Spiral a lot with the fear of your senses being wrong but that’s a whole thing for another time, and plenty of Entities overlap with stuff all the time. All I’m saying is that there’s a strong precedent for The Stranger making people forget stuff or making things hard to remember.”
However, that alone isn’t very good evidence but Mr. Bonzo is described as being a clown. Which The Stranger has a precedent for manifesting as, probably due to both the idea of the uncanny valley being achieved with a costume or makeup and the idea of a traveling circus full of strangers you don’t know from out of town. Not to mention that Mr. Bonzo is described as a suit, which could very easily connect to an Entity like The Stranger. Firstly, The Stranger tends to have a big emphasis on wearing things like skins and suits. I think the idea behind this is usually that wearing costumes or disguises can actually obscure who is wearing them and thus their true identity is unknown. There’s also the fact that costumes themselves can easily fall into the uncanny valley. Ever since Five Nights at Freddy’s became popular there’s been an uptick in horror media focusing on how creepy and uncanny things like animatronic suits can be. Not that Mr. Bonzo is an animatronic but it is a suit. Also, as others much more well versed in British culture than me have pointed out, Mr. Bonzo is most likely inspired by Mr. Blobby (a real life fictional character). And yeah I could see how such a costume could be uncanny to some or quickly become creepy if you change around some features.
The wiki also says this about Mr. Blobby: “Mr Blobby first appeared in 1992 in the 'Gotcha' segment of the second series of Noel's House Party, in which celebrities were caught out in a Candid Camera style prank. Mr Blobby was presented to the celebrities as if he were a real and established children's television character, in order to record a feature about the guests' professions - in reality, the setup was completely fictitious, and the character of Mr Blobby portrayed by Noel Edmonds focused on acting childishly and unprofessionally, to irritate the celebrities taking part.” This all sounds way too similar to Mr. Bonzo and the role he played on Mr. Bonzo’s On His Way as a character that pranked or messed with celebrities.
Also, after looking through the ARG I found some pictures of Mr. Bonzo (https://rustyquill.com/2023/10/31/the-magnus-protocol-arg-full-summary/)
(There’s also a more distorted creepypasta style picture of Mr. Bonzo (that I imagine the suit we see later looks like), but you can check the link for that).
“I remember the first show we used him. We’d invited Gotard Rimbaeu – the chef. He was very big at the time. Lots of TV appearances, a cooking column in The Times. But I think he was looking to soften his public image after the Mirror ran a story on him, I don’t quite remember…” Once again, Nigel is having trouble recalling something even if Geraldine reminds him. I fully acknowledge I’ve gone full tinfoil and it’s probable that Nigel just genuinely forgot or is a normal human with an imperfect memory.
“...after that he agreed to do a segment on our show teaching children how to cook. He’s
obviously never seen the show and was completely oblivious to kids’ culture. He was absolutely perfect.” It’s interesting that they are preying on the fact that this chef is oblivious to kids’ culture. Which is another way to say that they were taking advantage of the fact that Gotard didn't know something (which can be very Stranger-esque).
“When Mr Bonzo emerged out of the pantry, the effect was… incredible. Rimbeau’s face went white and he looked like he was about to scream. I’ll be honest, I’d seen the suit already, but I hadn’t seen it moving, and it was even freaking me out a bit. Rimbeau tried to keep it together, as far as he knew all the kids did love Mr. Bonzo, but when that big rubbery clown started knocking over pans and smashing eggs all over the studio kitchen, “the snooty chef” actually tried to hide behind a shelving unit. And finally, when Mr Bonzo went in for a cuddle, Rimbeau genuinely attacked him with a frying pan. He actually broke the arm of the guy wearing him, which I took as my cue to enter with the Golden Berry. This was on live TV don’t forget.” Surprise is something that a lot of Entities like to use but you could argue it potentially relating to The Stranger here in the sense that Gotard didn’t know any of the stuff regarding Mr. Bonzo was going to happen when he joined the show, nor was he familiar with the character. Also Gotard Rimbeau sounds like a Gordan Ramsey reference. Especially with a title like “BRITAIN’S SNOOTIEST CHEF.”
While someone having his arm broken sounds like a disaster it apparently worked out for Nigel and his crew, since the audience ended up loving it and asking for Mr. Bonzo to return. Of course, “...there was a different man in the suit, of course. There were a few of them over the years. It was very physically demanding and that wasn’t the only injury we had with it. It actually became a sort of ritual: the newest member of the production crew wore Mr. Bonzo until someone else joined.” I mentioned last episode how The Desolation can relate to the fear of things like bad luck. So you could maybe argue some parallels with Entities such as The Desolation depending on how people wearing the suit got hurt, but my money is still currently on The Stranger.
Nigel explains, that the joke couldn’t last forever and the bit started losing its punch as more people became aware of Mr. Bonzo and his skits on Nigel’s show. “The problem with a surprise prank is that doing it on Saturday night primetime means pretty soon everyone knows about it, and the guests knew it was coming. A couple even requested it. So the prank part of it sort of died, and he just became an SOS mascot. One of my many tormentors in the dungeon. By the end we’d even retired Mr. Six, and it was all Bonzo.” Once again, a focus on surprise and I think it’s interesting that Bonzo loses his punch the more people know about and understand him. Bonzo is a character that thrived specifically on the guests not knowing who he was and did. So a potential relationship with the unknown again. “The kids certainly liked him. It turned out they really did think he was hilarious. Well, the ones who didn’t wet themselves, anyway.” So Mr. Bonzo could have been creating fear that fed the Entities unintentionally.
I wonder about Geraldine since at this point they seem to laugh at the suffering or fear of people. When Nigel brings up how people wearing Bonzo’s costume often got hurt Geraldine says “Or until they got hit by a pan!” and laughs while Nigel doesn’t. When Nigel mentions kids wetting themselves Geraldine laughs, but you could argue this is just Geraldine reacting to the joke. If Geraldine was an Avatar, monster, or somehow connected to an Entity this behavior would make sense if she is trying to purposefully scare Nigel, or maybe she just has a different sense of humor. Honestly, Geraldine radiates returning character energy to me.
Nigel explains that things were looking up for the Bonzo brand despite this dividing line amongst the reception of kids. “Soon it was Bonzomania: merch sales were through the roof; “underserving number one hit single” actually did become a number one hit single and we even started construction on a small Bonzoland theme park at one point. It was… It was a good time.” And then people stopped liking Bonzo after a serial killer named Terrance Menki was caught wearing a Mr. Bonzo costume after murdering 11 people. Nigel says “You know it was only the last one, right? The one where he was caught? The police said there were eleven bodies in total and his wardrobe was full of all sorts of homemade costumes. Who knows what he wore for the rest? But no, because he was caught dressed as Mr. Bonzo, that’s all people remember, the, uh, the-” “Bonzo Butcher” apparently.
Obviously, Nigel has some strong feelings about this “The Bonzo Butcher! Ridiculous tabloid garbage. It didn’t even look like him! He got the colors backwards! But they still splashed the image all over the front page. Complete overreaction.” Terrance messing up Bonzo’s colors could just be a coincidence but it could relate to The Stranger and the idea of the uncanny. The idea that a character or person who would otherwise be familiar is off in some way. So we get an uncanny Bonzo that doesn’t look quite right.
When Geraldine asks “An overreaction?” Nigel replies with “No, I mean, uh, it was inappropriate. To show to the public I mean.” One could argue that this parallels The Eye thematically with the fear relating to the idea of something being made public or known. Not to mention that Nigel is in front of a live audience right now and is in the middle of an interview. Interviews are something The Eye loves and has a precedent for, the most obvious example of this are the various live statements people like Jon and Gertrude took in TMA as Archivists. After news of the “Bonzo Butcher” went public “Bonzoland halted construction shortly afterwards and the suits decided it was best to “temporarily” halt production on SOS.” and Nigel got death threats even though he felt he had nothing to do with the situation. Public perception of Mr. Bonzo took a turn for the worse but Bonzo did get “some fans. In the, uh, edgier parts of the internet. As a “meme”.”
Geraldine asks about the Bonzo merchandise still available on Nigel's own website and if its presence makes him uneasy. “About what? The fact that a few sales might be from people trying to be edgy? A man’s got to make a living, Geraldine, and it’s not like I can tell if someone’s buying a t-shirt ironically. Besides, people think of Nigel Dickerson and Mr. Bonzo is never far behind so it’s not like its changing my reputation. In a lot of ways I’m more his prisoner now than I ever was on my show.” Then the interview takes a sharp turn when
GERALDINE
“And how do you respond to the more recent rumours?”
NIGEL
“(on guard) Excuse me? “
GERALDINE
“The witness statements from three murders over the last five years”
NIGEL
“(speaking over her) I told your producer this wasn’t going to be discussed.”
GERALDINE
“-that claim a person in a Mr. Bonzo costume was at the scene? Do you think there could be a copycat?’
NIGEL
“(Getting up) This interview is over. Don’t contact us again.”
GERALDINE
“Us? “
NIGEL
“(losing it) It was a joke alright!? Mr. Bonzo was meant to be funny, make people laugh! Is that so wrong? Why am I still trapped dealing with all this- this- Why won’t he let me go?! Why”
First off, considering that Gwen encounters Bonzo in Nigel’s house later, when Nigel says “us” he is probably referring to both himself and Mr. Bonzo. One could also argue that this part of the interview parallels The Eye due to Nigel reacting very negatively to prying questions and he refuses to be interviewed again. However, I think that at least Mr. Bonzo is somehow connected to The Stranger. The comment Geraldine makes about the rumors by saying “The witness statements from three murders over the last five years” and “-that claim a person in a Mr. Bonzo costume was at the scene? Do you think there could be a copycat?” implies that more murders have since occurred after the first 11. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that these three murders might be related to whatever we see Bonzo doing later after Gwen gives him the letter. Is Bonzo going off to kill more people, and why is the OIAR involved?
We cut to OIAR via one of the computers to find out that Celia is filling out the forms for this statement. Colin enters the room and makes it clear that he doesn’t want to interrupt Celia’s Job to which she respons “It’s fine, just stuck the kettle on. You want a cup?” Implying that Colin’s mental health leave might have ended. Colin asks where everyone is, as he seems to be looking for Alice, and Celia explains “Gwen’s on “assignment”, whatever that means. Alice and Sam are, uh, following up something from a case.” Unbeknownst to Celia, Gwen’s assignment is delivering a letter to Nigel, and Sam and Alice went to go investigate the ruins of the Magnus Institute. It’s a bit funny that Celia describes what Sam and Alice are doing as “following up something from a case” because that kind of phrase was used to describe what the assistant and other members of the Institute in TMA often did when investigating statements or checking their validity.
Colin talks about his experience with some therapists he talked to on his mental leave.
COLIN
“(distracted) Right. Shame. Wanted Alice’s thoughts on something. You know anything about computers?”
CELIA
“Not really. Weren’t you on leave?’
COLIN
“For my brain, yeah. Didn’t work. Talked to three therapists. None of them even knew what a logic gate is. What the hell use is that going to be?“
A logic gate is “a device that performs a Boolean function, a logical operation performed on one or more binary inputs that produces a single binary output,” which would imply that Colin was asking his therapists about the computers. Colin also says “None. I was just sat their twiddling my thumbs. Best thing for me is figuring this out.”. Colin asks Celia once again if no one is present and then-
COLIN
“Great. That’ll make things easier. He sits at a desk and starts booting it up.”
COLIN
“(cont.) Maybe don’t tell them I’ve been on their terminals. They’ll only get the wrong idea.”
CELIA
“Uh, sure.”
Colin starts typing on the PC a little breathless.
CELIA
“Cool. Well, I think that was the kettle, so I’ll probably leave you to it.”
COLIN
“Yeah. Oh, and, uh, Celia?”
CELIA
“Mm?”
COLIN
“If Lena asks, I wasn’t here.”
He starts to pull open the active computer, muttering to himself while Celia walks off to the breakroom.
Okay… so maybe Colin’s mental health leave isn’t actually over, and he just wanted to sneak back in to see what was going on with the computers. Once again, I must beat the dead horse of saying that there may be Eye related themes present at the OIAR or the facility. The Eye doesn’t just relate to the fear of being watched but also the fear of knowledge in general, which includes the fear of “seeing too much”, horrible truths, etc.. In MAG 200 The Eye is stated to have been born from the fear of seeing too much, and it also thematically relates to Jonah’s ability to force information into the heads of people like Martin and Melanie. Gertrude at one point even mentions The Eye as relating to the desire to know and understand even if in doing so you get hurt.
I’m not saying Colin is unjustified or unreasonable in his paranoia. But what I am saying is that an Entity like The Eye might purposefully be trying to insight and prey on this behavior (and the OIAR has a lot of parallels with The Eye). Gertude’s comment about hurting yourself in a desire to obtain knowledge could relate to Colin’s increasing levels of stress and degrading mental health as he attempts to unravel the secrets of the computer. Additionally, Colin’s desire to understand what’s happening does technically mirror a character like Rosie, but specifically his desire to understand an outdated system of technology is very similar to an Eye related statement from TMA in MAG 148 (Extended Surveillance) involving a “Security Camera Instruction Manual.” Upon reading the Leitner the victim ends up metaphysically fusing with the camera system the manual is tied to, but that’s not the important part. The important part is what led to Samson Stiller reading the manual in the first place. Specifically, a desire to understand and fix the camera system. In that MAG we get “I remember the smell of dust when Dave went and cracked open the filing cabinet in the back room, before waving his arms in the direction of the drawer and shrugging. I mean, I’d have just left it, obviously, but I think Samson was taking the whole knowing how the system works thing as like – a point of pride? Something he could salvage from the whole situation. Just a way of getting some control over his life, you know?”
Alice has been at the job pretty long, and presumably the longest out of her coworkers with the possible exception of her boss Lena (that’s still up in the air). So I wonder what Colin thinks Alice might know or add. I also wonder if Colin warns Celia not to tell Lena because he just doesn’t want to be caught by his boss at the office during his mental health leave or because he is suspicious of Lena specifically.
We cut to Sam and Alice exploring the ruins of the Institute. The ruins are clearly rotting and decaying and Alice seems to think this situation is dangerous as implied by this later interaction.
ALICE
“(cont.) Careful…”
SAM
“(turning) Oh thank goodness you said that otherwise I would’ve jumped up and down the dangerous”
The floor breaks.
Before all the floor stuff however, Sam rummages through a filing cabinet and manages to find a key.
Alice actually shows herself to be a lot more aware and insightful than I think some fans give her credit for. She correctly identifies that Sam doesn’t actually know what he’s looking for, which he eventually admits outright, and she does try to console him. Although, you could argue it was pretty obvious Sam didn’t know what he was looking for. The fact that Sam doesn’t know what he’s looking for really makes me wonder what caused him to become so interested in the Institute. Why did the Institute test him for their gifted kids program?
I also forgot to mention something very important. When we cut to Sam and Alice the for the second time, even though we were using Sam’s phone the first cut in, the transcripts say this “ EXT. THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE RUINS – NIGHT, THUNDERSTORM (TAPE RECORDER).” So we are hearing what’s happening via a Tape Recorder, just like TMA. It also shows that whatever is listening isn’t just limited to things connected to the internet or anything, but seemingly any form of technology with a microphone. Are the tapes from this Institute or was it one of the tapes that would have been dragged along with the Entities from TMA into this new universe? Also, is it The Web that has been listening this entire time again or is something / someone else also using the tapes? We know that, while rare, artifacts can be tied to one or more Powers (such as the Key of Solomon) so are the tapes still aligned with The Web while something else is using them or is The Web just stepping up its game and using all microphones now because it doesn’t need the tapes specifically for its new plan(s)?
In this scene it’s also clear that Alice really worries about Sam’s safety and you could even argue that she’s mothering him a bit.
ALICE
“(picking something up) Who do you reckon Archie was?”
SAM
“Huh?”
ALICE
“I found one of those old timey name block things.”
SAM
“Uh… Archipelago?’
ALICE
“I’m sorry what?”
SAM
“What?”
ALICE
“You’re just going to skip straight to “Archipelago”? Not, I don’t know, architect? Archive?”
The name Archie doesn’t ring familiar to me but the words “architect” and “archive” do. Specifically in relation to, of course, Smirke’s architecture and the Institute’s Archives. In fact in TMA the tunnels under the Institute are Smirkean architecture. Sam also picks up a book that immediately disintegrates in his hand which makes me wonder if there were leitners in the TMP Institute at some point, and if such artifacts will play a role similar to the one they played in TMA.
ALICE
“Nice chair. I could look real ominous swiveling in that thing.”
SAM
“I wouldn’t risk it. Not unless you want woodworms up your butt.”
ALICE
“Ew. That explains the pattern on the floor.“
SAM
“Oh yeah… What is that?”
ALICE
“Worm tracks. Or y’know symbols of ancient otherworldly power. One or the other.”
The comment about the worms seems like a cheeky nod to Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Institute's in TMA. At the moment I think this is just a reference for the audience as opposed to something alluding to the idea that a similar attack also occurred here. Some floor breaks under Sam and the key he tried to use to open a door falls down into the resulting hole. Alice expresses worry as she manages to catch Sam and says “What was that? Because it sounded a lot like, “I’m sorry Alice you were right. We should head back now before I get myself killed falling into a soggy pit. Gosh you’re sexy, here’s a twenty for your trouble.”” Once again, I would like to point to Gertrude’s whole “The Eye is the desire to search for knowledge even if you get hurt in doing so” thing. I think it’s clear Sam is at least kind of desperate for answers since he acknowledges that he doesn’t even really know what he’s looking for. I’m not saying Sam is secretly an Eye Avatar or anything but, like with Colin, I wonder if something like The Eye or someone similar to Jonah is purposefully trying to stoke Sam’s curiosity or take advantage of it.
As far as the Institute’s gifted kids program goes Sam also says this “No, you’re right. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I have… I have memories of weird stuff I saw here, but no context. I want to know what was happening, why they chose us… why they didn’t choose me. Maybe find the bit where everything started to go wrong. But… it’s too late. And now… I’m the only one left who cares.” Which makes me wonder even more about the program. Why were these kids selected? Was it their personalities, their experiences, some supernatural factor? Were they looking for potential Avatars or something? Wa the TMP Institute working with the government?
“The voices finally disappear, lost to the distance and the rain. There is a long silence as the tape keeps running. The water is gently disturbed below. Then there is a thud on the hidden wooden trapdoor and the rattle of a padlock. There is the distinct sound of a key being dragged across wood then being blindly fumbled in a lock which finally clicks. The trap door opens, the lock falling away and [ERROR] emerges and takes a shuddering breath.. Click.” So something or someone might have just escaped the ruins. Who or what it could be I don’t know. This Institute could have its own set of tunnels like the one in TMA but the Institute in TMA was located in London instead of Manchester after being moved so I can’t really say if this Institute would have a similar system. Was someone / something purposefully trying to get Sam to release whatever / whoever this is from the Institute? Does the being itself somehow have some way of influencing things from a distance?
I actually skipped over a portion of this episode because I felt like it flowed better but let’s rewind to check up on Gwen via a tv apparently. Gwen rings the door and as Nigel unlocks it: “He unbolts the door. There’s a lot of them. Then he opens the heavy wooden doors to find GWEN stood in the porch.”
Nigel is surprised to find someone at this time of night and Gwen explains that she was sent by the OIAR (Office of Incident Assessment and Response). The name of the OIAR is something I haven’t really thought about but the fact that it has “Response” probably means it’s supposed to take a more active role in dealing with the supernatural than the Institute. In TMA the job of the Institute technically wasn’t to perform investigations or help people but just to note supernatural occurrences and verify / research them. The Institute itself isn’t actually supposed to really do anything to help. The Institute’s motto is literally “Audio. Opperior. Vigilo." which means” I listen. I wait. I watch." and in MAG 28 (Skintight) Jon says to Melanie “We are not ‘paranormal investigators��. We are researchers. Scholars.” They aren’t supposed to solve mysteries, stop monsters, etc. for the sake of closure or helping others. They are just supposed to note what happens and use it for their own research(even if characters like Jon and Gertrude obviously don’t abide by that).
Anyway, Nigel seems to realize what’s happening when Gwen mentions the OIAR and tries to give Nigel the envelope. But there’s a twist, Nigel says “It’s not for me.” and invites Gwen inside. Nigel apologizes before “There is a wet, lumbering step on the staircase. Something is dragging itself down the stairs to meet them.” That “something” is none other than Mr. Bonzo (who can only say his own name, or maybe just chooses to say his own name). Gwen obviously doesn’t die in this encounter but I wonder if Nigel was apologizing because he knew seeing Bonzo can be scary or in case Bonzo decided to kill / hurt Gwen.
Nigel also says “Try not to stare. He doesn’t like it when people stare.” Which could relate to The Stranger. While all the Entities are connected, overlap, and need each other for a ritual bringing them into the world to work, with even seemingly opposing Entities bleeding into each other or having overlapping fears, The Stranger can often have an antagonistic relationship with The Eye and forms of being known. The Stranger tends to thrive off the fear of being unknown so staring at something aligned with The Stranger might make it react negatively. In MAG 092 (Nothing Beside Remains) Jonah tells Jon “We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown.” In MAG 165 (Revolutions) Not-Sasha says this in regards to The Eye’s Post-Change world “Do you know how it feels? To be – anonymous? And yet known! To have all the sweetest dread I can create tainted by the relentless gaze of that damned Eye. I’ve suffered enough.” So if my theory that Bonzo is tied to something like The Stranger is correct that would explain a potentially negative reaction to being looked at for too long since aspects of The Stranger often don’t like it when people try to figure out what they are.
Nigel introduces Gwen and Bonzo by saying “Mr Bonzo meet… I didn’t actually get your name. Probably for the best.” Which makes me wonder why it’s a good thing he didn’t get her name. Is one of the factors that determine who Bonzo attacks are whether it and / or Nigel knows their name or something? The transcripts go on to say-
NIGEL
“(urgently) I said don’t stare!”
Gwen does not reply. It is clear she is trying not to hyperventilate.
So Gwen is definitely in shock. Mr. Bonzo begins to become agitated and Nigel says “The name, the address – tell him where to go.” Nigel begins to panic and after telling Gwen to give Bonzo the envelope again “Gwen holds out the envelope and Mr Bonzo snatches it into his
mouth, audibly chewing it. His teeth are not soft.” and then “Mr. Bonzo excitedly lumbers away, violently throwing open the door and lumbering off into the night.” Nigel notes that this situation almost went very badly and says “Tell the people who sent you “you’re welcome. Again.””
Okay, so what is Mr, Bonzo? I know that sometimes Entities like The Stranger just do weird uncanny stuff but I wonder if the “suit” actually is Mr. Bonzo’s body or if there is something wearing the suit? Or is Mr. Bonzo literally a living suit that is wearing some poor sap and Bonzo needs to find a new wearer / host periodically to wear him or shove inside of him? That could explain why the murders Geraldine mentioned are 3 murders that occured over the course of 5 years. It’s possible that these murders were just the ones that were caught but I wonder if Bonzo is collecting body parts for the inside of his suit or something. Part of the reason I’m thinking about this is because it’s funny that Bonzo eats the letter in order to read it. Maybe Bonzo is just trying to be scary but you have to remember that he is a suit. So by consuming the letter who / whatever is wearing it might be able to then see the letter. Then again presumably Bonzo would have had eye holes in the original costume so this might just be Bonzo or The Stranger being weird again.
Nigel acts like whatever is being done is a favor for the OIAR. Did the government stick Nigel with Mr. Bonzo in an attempt to appease it as much as possible while also offering the occasional sacrifice to calm Mr. Bonzo or is whatever’s on the letter some sort of enemy or threat? Maybe, Mr. Bonzo is being sent to go deal with more problematic or harder to control Monsters / Avatars / threats? I don’t know much other than the fact that it’s probably a favor for the OIAR. Meaning that someone wants this to happen. I don’t know if it’s Lena or her mysterious higher ups. This all also sounds like it might be related to the three Bonzo murders Geraldine mentioned. Is Bonzo being used as a weapon or is he just a threat that the government doesn’t know how to kill? Maybe killing Bonzo would somehow release something worse?
The interaction between Gwen, Nigel and Bonzo in regards to her job leads me to suspect that the OIAR is working with various supernatural factions. I don’t know if they are doing so out of convenience or some other reason but it looks like Gwen’s job involves sending messages and contracts to various supernatural beings at least. I wonder if all the letters are being sent to Mr. Bonzo, a variety of monsters, or just a pool of “agents” connected to the supernatural. Gwen’s new job was stated to have something to do with contracts so did Nigel or even Bonzo himself sign some sort of contract? If we assume the OIAR is connected to some Entity like The Eye we know such beings have a precedent for magically binding contracts (like the one Jonah used). So is something similar happening here but on a larger scale?
It’s kind of funny that when Nigel tells Gwen to leave he says “Now get out of his house.” It’s pretty obvious that The Stranger has a connection to the loss of identity or being unable to identify either yourself or other people. So I wonder if this is supposed to be some weird metaphor for an artist having their identity overtaken by that of their creations? Like people not really knowing who Nigel is outside of “the guy who made Mr. Bonzo.” Nigel even said “Besides, people think of Nigel Dickerson and Mr. Bonzo is never far behind so it’s not like its changing my reputation. In a lot of ways I’m more his prisoner now than I ever was on my show.” Nigel views Bonzo as a core part of his identity which could mirror how sometimes artists stake to much of their value or identity on their own art and creations. The interview we just saw seemed to revolve entirely around Bonzo and it seems to be Nigel’s most famous creation. Bonzo has become the main character and quite literally taken on a life of its own while Nigel is stuck in the side-car as he sits in Bonzo’s shadow.
Conclusion
I’m only becoming more and more curious about the OIAR. Also, what was the thing escaping the Institute’s ruins. Is it somehow related to the gifted program kids?
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✨🛍
✨ devoted, serious, and disclipined when it comes to love.
🛍 “ride or die” type of lover.
✨ these individuals can have a tendency of not feeling worthy or deserving of love. mostly for challenging aspects, and sometimes conjunction.
���� can find expressing love and affection harder than others.
✨ smoothly aspected (sextile, trine, sometimes conjunct) can be immensely loyal in love because of their security and sureness.
🛍 challengingly aspected (opposition, square, sometimes conjunction) can be more vulnerable to the tendency of cheating, mostly because of insecurity and not being sure of theirselves.
✨ can sometimes have high standards for others and themselves.
🛍 can feel “ugly” sometimes.
✨ late-bloomers in appearance, and love life.
🛍 possibly could’ve been a “ugly duckling” or not so confident in their beauty in the younger years.
✨ can be afraid of rejection, fail relationships, abandonment, and judgement.
🛍 so they might run away from new connections that get too committing or not have connections at all until later on life.
✨ might be attracted to older partners in the younger years, and become attracted to younger partners in older years.
🛍 these individuals might prioritize their achievements and accomplishments more than their love life and connections at some point.
✨ socially awkward, introverts. (challengingly aspected)
🛍 these individuals are more likely to desire marriage.
✨ can marry more later than others, or end up with a loved one in the younger and stick with them “through thick and thin”.
🛍 the father was either serious, disciplined, nurturing of the individual, or abandoning, cold and distant.
🛍 materialistic. loves giving and receiving gifts.
⛓ could have some major karma surrounding love, beauty, money, self-esteem, and connections.
🛍 unlucky in love.
⛓ could struggle to feel connected towards anyone because of the emotional detachment.
🛍 great time managers.
⛓ smooth and challenging aspects will get the highest award of venus than others, but challenging aspects might need to wait a bit longer and go through more obstacles first.
🛍 might not like one-night stands, or flings. could have shorter list of lovers in your lifetime.
⛓ could desire a partner with money, or status. this also adds on if you have venus in the 10th house/capricorn.
🛍 dislikes flirting or finds it to be uncomfortable.
✨ prefers a smaller friend group circle.
🛍 smooth aspects are more likely to attract good karma from their past life when it comes to love, money, self-esteem, and connections.
✨ might depend on others for validation and reassurance.
🛍 feels they are denied the most important things in life: love and true happiness.
✨ they might search the wrong places for those things.
🛍 can feel like they are running out of time finding for “the one” or their soulmate.
✨ might’ve felt unloved or not valued by others.
🛍 these individuals tend to feel very bad about theirselves.
✨ the more they continue on feeling this way, the most negative situations they will attract from others.
🛍 it is likely that these individuals will attract people from past lives that will be with them for the worst or the best depending on the type of aspect and the rest of the chart.
✨ oppositions can attract others that exude this energy too.
#venus conjunct saturn#astrology#natal chart#venus square saturn#venus opposition saturn#venus sextile saturn#venus trine saturn#venus#saturn#libra#taurus#capricorn#venus in the 10th house#saturn in the 7th house#guxciestone#guxciestone's astrology
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revenge is brutally sweet | jeon jungkook
—jeon jungkook’s life so far has been going well. he’s the guitarist of the most famous band in the scene, he’s got the girl of his dreams, and everything he’s ever wished for is in the palm of his hands. what he doesn’t expect though, is to wake up one day in the middle of a controversy. what the controversy is, you may ask? a new band has been hitting the charts, and their lead singer is none other than you, a former member of the band and his ex-girlfriend.
➢ pairing: jeon jungkook x female! reader
➢ genre: angst | slight fluff | band au | slight highschool au | post breakup au | exes au | r 15 | guitarist! jungkook | vocalist! reader
➢ word count: 14.6k+
➢ warning: profanity | heavy drinking | toxic relationships | messy break-ups | self depriciation | bullying | messy closure | this is just very much super angsty
➢ love letter: AH SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG T_T I kinda drowned in midterms AHSHSHs but I hope you enjoy this fic <33 there’s more to this angsty collection to come so stay tuned!!
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Life couldn’t be any better.
This is what Jeon Jungkook constantly told himself every morning after his short, fifteen-minute shower while messily tousling his hair in an extra-soft towel as he takes in the dreary yet somehow vibrant view from his penthouse apartment, soaking in the sun’s rays.
The city was busy, even though the sun had just risen and bloomed into full glory. The streets were filled with people rushing to get wherever they needed to be, cars driving past with the fervor of a shackled mad man on wheels. If Jungkook looked closer, he would have probably seen the black exhaust drifting in the air from the fumes of those ecologically damaging vehicles or the frantic looks on an office worker’s face as they hurriedly crossed the street obviously late for work.
But alas, Jungkook couldn’t care less about the trials and tribulations of some strangers he didn’t even know. After all, his life was going great. In fact, he was literally walking on cloud nine at this point and felt like nothing had stopped him.
Of course, it wasn’t always this way, which was why Jungkook appreciated his success tenfold.
He, like every other success story, had started from the ground up. Music was something he had always dreamed of doing for the rest of his life. Ever since his grandfather had first shown him how to play the guitar, the melodies had wrapped their whimsical tunes around his heart and made themselves stay. It was fascinating to him how playing a couple of strings could produce such music that could move souls and bring smiles to people’s faces.
And ever since then, he was hooked. Every chance he got, he would play the guitar even if his parents tried to pry him off it.
They wanted him to be a doctor after all, and there was no way in hell he was going to go by their wishes. While being a doctor was great, it didn’t ignite the same spark that music did, and for Jungkook, he would rather die than live a life without his flame running ablaze.
So, against his parent’s wishes, he pursued a career in music. It wasn’t easy, of course. At first, he had no support system for his dream. His friends and teachers ridiculed and discouraged him, saying that the future was bleak and he had no hopes of making it big. But if Jungkook knew anything about himself, it would most likely have to do with the fact that he was extremely stubborn and persistent, much to the disappointment of the adults in his life.
So he continued. He continued reaching his dreams, joining every music-related activity he could at his age until he finally met Mr. Park.
Mr. Park was a bright man who came in one day as a replacement for their music teacher, who was an old lady who stuck to the classics and had a somewhat deceiving grading system. He came into class with disheveled hair, an unkempt tie, and when he turned around to write his name on the board, the whole class laughed as they could see his heart print underpants peeking through.
But despite his clumsiness and seemingly carefree nature, Mr. Park was a master at his craft. He was the epitome of what a music teacher should be; exceptionally skilled, eloquent, and passionate about what he did. But Mr. Park had another talent that not many knew about, which was the eye for potential.
And Mr. Park saw potential in Jungkook.
He had taken Jungkook under his wing and taught him the ropes of music life. The keys of the piano, how notes were read, how symphonies were made. And the more Jungkook learned, the more he yearned for a life surrounding music. When he voiced his wishes to Mr. Park, expecting to receive the same rejection he had always known, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that he had his support.
Mr. Park was the very first person who saw that Jungkook could have a future in music. He was the very first person who showed Jungkook that there was a path for him to take that was far better than the path his parents laid out for him. A rocky path filled with trials and tribulations but ultimately reaped great rewards in the end.
Like a moth drawn to its flame, Jungkook was attracted to the seemingly devastating path because somehow, amid the darkness, there was hope. Hope for a happier future, a future that wasn’t filled with regret and mourning but full of triumph and satisfaction. Jungkook would be a fool not to pursue the latter.
And thus, in hopes of finally seeing the light, Jungkook decided to start his own band.
It didn’t start off right away, though. After all, no kid at his school wanted to be part of a band that, in the eyes of their parents, was a complete waste of time. Jungkook kept his small dream hidden deep within his heart, yet even so, it still burned with an unyielding passion. Even if years passed and no opportunity for him to start a band was in sight, Jungkook didn’t give up, knowing that his persistence would one day reap great rewards.
And finally, his chance came in the form of you.
From the very beginning, Jungkook had always thought you were strange. In a prestigious school known for being the epitome of perfection and class, you were the odd one out, sticking out like a sore thumb with your disheveled appearance and undignified manner of carrying yourself. Almost immediately, you were set to be the outcast, ridiculed by your peers for your looks and mannerisms, even if, in Jungkook’s opinion, you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary.
Unfortunately, the world is never kind to those who are different.
Jungkook’s phone rings from where it is laid on his bedside table, the alarm blaring loudly, causing a shift in the once serene atmosphere of his apartment. Jungkook pays it no mind at first, choosing to finish drying his hair before finally picking up the phone, voice groggy and slightly annoyed from having his peaceful morning interrupted.
“Who is it?” He hastily asks, not meaning to sound as harsh. But could he really be blamed when it was 7 AM in the morning, and he wasn’t expected to show up to any scheduled event until noon?
“Jungkook!” An exasperated voice exclaims from the other side of his phone. It was Namjoon, his manager, Jungkook, quickly concludes. Although it was rare for him to call so early in the morning, especially in such a panicked state. Perhaps he forgot to inform him of a schedule? Although that was annoying, Jungkook wouldn’t really mind. After all, work made money. But if that were the case, it would have been odd for Namjoon to be so panicked about it. The man was known for being reasonably level-headed even in times of extreme stress, so perhaps it was something else entirely.
“Did you read the news?” Namjoon quickly adds before Jungkook could ask what was wrong. At his question, Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, quickly sitting down on the side of his bed and grabbing his iPad from the same bedside desk, unplugging the charger along the way.
“No,” he says as he types up the password into the Home Screen, laying his phone in between the juncture of his shoulder and ear. “Is there something I should be concerned about? I mean, it’s not like I got into a scandal or anything, right?”
Wrong.
Well, partly.
The moment Jungkook opens his Twitter, he’s surprised to see more notifications than usual. Of course, it was a given for him to have a ghastly amount of notifications as a celebrity. He did have a large fan base, after all. But the numbers on his screen far exceeded that of what he was used to, and amongst those notifications tagging his account, one article stood out amongst the rest, and the headline made his blood run cold.
“What the fuck?” He whispers, staring at the article in shock as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Am I seeing this right, Namjoon?”
The man on the other side of the phone is silent for a while before Jungkook hears a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook can almost imagine the way he’s probably rubbing his temples together while sipping his cup of black coffee in his office out of stress and frustration
“(Y/N) is back,” he says, causing shivers to run down Jungkook’s spine. “And apparently Jungkook, she wrote a song about you.”
The day Jungkook finally mustered up the courage to talk to you for the first time was an experience, to say the least. For what felt like years, albeit it was only a few days, Jungkook had been observing you from the sidelines, watching as you were berated by his classmates, who apparently had nothing better to do with their time.
A part of Jungkook always felt guilty for never standing up for you. He knew you needed a friend. Someone to confide in this hellish school that made it seem as if it were every man for himself. But he was a coward, raised and molded to never take a step outside the boundaries he had set for himself, like a doll.
Although, with Mr. Park's influence, Jungkook could finally break free from his shell, even if it were just a mere few steps.
"Here," he says nervously, handing you a carton of banana milk that he had picked up from the nearest vending machine the moment he saw you storm out of the classroom in tears. Even then, your classmates had laughed, mocking how sensitive you were, which disgusted Jungkook. Didn't they have any ounce of shame for making a person cry like that?
You look up from where you sat on the school's staircase, eyes puffy from crying so hard, a stream of tears still flowing down your face. You looked like an absolute mess, and the sight only caused Jungkook's heart to clench even more. He sat beside you, albeit a bit distanced because he couldn't help but feel awkward. This was your first conversation, after all.
You stare at him, not entirely understanding why he would extend kindness towards you. Was this a trick of fate? Was he doing this so you would someday do his bidding in the future? The kids of this school were scary, even scarier than the monsters that hid underneath your bed or the creatures that roamed around in the dead of night. Even amidst the light, they scared you, and you were terrified that the man offering you some banana milk would be just the same.
"You don't have to take it if you don't want to," Jungkook says, after realizing you were staring at him warily, cautious over whether or not you would accept his gift. "Sweets always cheered me up whenever I feel down, and I thought maybe it would cheer you up too!"
If anyone were to see your interaction, they would have burst out laughing from how awkward it was. You who were wary and cautious, and Jungkook who was awkward and shy. A stark difference between your usual timid behavior and Jungkook's confident act. In fact, if anyone else were to see this, they would have never believed their eyes.
It was odd, after all. And you knew this very well. Which was why you were so confused at Jungkook's behavior. Why was he approaching you so kindly when everyone else ridiculed and shunned you out? You were different, someone who didn't deserve to be there. An imposter, an intruder. It didn't make sense for him to act friendly.
"Don't take this the wrong way," Jungkook continues, setting down the banana milk in the space between the two of you as he fiddled with his fingers, a habit he had picked up over time. "I'm not doing this to mock you or make fun of you later down the line… I just really don't like the way they're treating you. It's not right."
You're stunned. Rightfully so. This was the first time someone had ever gone against what others did to you, despite him doing so behind the scenes. A weird sensation bubbles up from inside you, one you can't quite place. But what you do know is that amidst it all, there's warmth. Jungkook's words sounded genuine and sincere, not like the usual condescending tone you were used to hearing from the rest of your peers.
He genuinely seemed to care.
Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise when he sees you grab the carton of banana milk, opening the straw in pushing it through, taking a sip. You sheepishly stare down, not even bothering to look Jungkook in the eye before muttering. "I prefer strawberry milk… but this isn't that bad... I guess… Thanks…"
His eyes gleam, happy that you've accepted his offering and watching with a content smile as a small smile of your own forms on your lips, a far cry from the mess you were mere moments ago. He had somehow managed to cheer you up, and that was better than anything Jungkook could ever ask for.
"No problem. Next time I'll buy you a whole box of strawberry milk!" He exclaims, excited for what was about to unfold between the two of you.
But he would have never expected this.
And on this week's celebrity news: Former Vocalist of The 97, (L/N) (Y/N) debuts solo with her new single 'Move On', which fans speculate is a direct message to her ex-boyfriend and former bandmate Jeon Jungkook.
"Fuck!" Jungkook exclaims, overcome with emotion, as he watches the news unfold in the conference room of his label. He had quickly made his way over the moment he saw the headline, confused, devastated, and most of all angry.
What in the world were you thinking, dragging him down like that?
"Jungkook, calm down," Namjoon says from the other side of the room, trying to prevent Jungkook from destroying the room. Jungkook was strong. And if he really wanted to, he could turn the whole conference room upside down in a blink of an eye, and Namjoon really didn't want to deal with whatever consequence would follow should Jungkook actually decide that he'd destroy the conference room.
"How the fuck do you expect me to be calm, Namjoon?" Jungkook asks, exasperated as he walks from one end of the room to the other. "This is going to ruin my fucking reputation. And it's all because that bitch is too bitter about our breakup that she decided to fucking write a song about it."
"Hey." Another voice calls out, stern and ready to scold. Jaehyun, the band's bassist, glares at Jungkook with as much disdain as he could muster, not believing the words that came out of Jungkook's mouth. "No matter how you feel about the situation. I'm not going to stand by and let you call (Y/N) a bitch. She was and still is our friend. Just because you're so caught up in your perfect reputation doesn't mean you have to bring others down in the process, Jeon."
It was rare for Jaehyun to ever call Jungkook by his last name. The two were as close as could be, having been the best of friends for more than ten years and counting. Jungkook knew he could trust Jaehyun with his life and vice versa, so it shocked him to hear that his best friend was defending her.
"But Jungkook has every reason to be mad, Jaehyun!" Another voice pops up, this time a more feminine one that has Jungkook's heart-melting just a bit. Eunha, his current girlfriend, and the one who was there for him when you left him. She was the band's current vocalist, and Jungkook couldn't feel any more grateful to have someone as supportive as her in his life.
"She's using a personal situation to make her more popular, all the while bringing us down in the process! There's nothing else to call her but a bitch when she's hurting the band she started with! Is that how she says thank you when the band's been nothing but good to her?
It's incredible, Jungkook thinks to himself, how he was able to find someone like Eunha. She was the most compassionate and understanding person in the world, a far cry from what you had become. Bitter, selfish, and downright ungrateful. You probably wrote that song out of spite just to get back at him when he did nothing wrong in the first place. You were crazy, and he was glad Eunha allowed him to see through all of your lies.
"Shut the fuck up, will you?" Jungkook's eyes darted in surprise to Yugyeom, the band's drummer, who had just cursed at his girlfriend. He glares at the drummer, mad at the fact that the usual happy-go-lucky man was now acting bitter in front of his girlfriend, who had done nothing wrong. Were his bandmates woven that deep within your cruel lies?
"Excuse me, what did you just say?" Eunha asks, appalled, tears forming from the corners of her eyes, which only causes the anger within Jungkook to grow. How dare they. How dare they make Eunha cry when she was doing nothing but telling the truth?
"You heard me, Eunha," Yugyeom continues, paying no mind to the burning rage that was about to burst within Jungkook. "I said shut the fuck up. So what if (Y/N) wrote a song about Jungkook? Why does it matter? She has every right to. I mean, our next single is literally a song Jungkook wrote after the breakup, so why the fuck are you berating her for doing the same?"
"Because she's hurting our reputation!" Eunha exclaims, clearly frustrated at how Yugyeom and Jaehyun weren't getting her point. "And besides, she was the one in the wrong during the breakup. What right does she have to make a song about it?"
Jaehyun scoffs, glare intensifying, causing Jungkook to clench his fist at their hostility. "And how do you know that when you only heard Jungkook's side of the story and not (Y/N) 's? For all we know, Jungkook could also be in the wro—"
Before Jaehyun could finish his sentence, Jungkook explodes, immediately rushing over to where Jaehyun sat and grabbing him by the collar, causing the rest of the band and Namjoon to panic, trying to break them apart, while Eunha watches, scared.
"You motherfucker," Jungkook curses, hand raised into a fist, ready to punch Jaehyun in the face with all the force he could muster. But before he could do so, Namjoon and Yugyeom immediately held him back, causing Jaehyun to let out shaky breaths as he glared at Jungkook, hurt, confused, and angry. "Why are you defending her? She was the one who hurt me! You're supposed to be my fucking best friend!"
"Maybe if you actually listened to what she had to say and what she was going through, then we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," Jaehyun screamed back, anger slowly growing as each moment passed by. "You've always been like this Jungkook, self-centered and fucking mean. (Y/N) was right for wanting to leave."
"What did you say, you fucki—"
"Enough!" Namjoon screams, holding his ground. This had gotten out of hand, and it was beginning to stress him out, and clearly, that same stress was spreading through every single person in the room. This wasn't even supposed to be that big of a deal. All they were supposed to do was listen to the song you wrote, and come up with a statement, So why the hell did this turn into a full-blown fight?
Gosh, Namjoon needed a raise.
"Jeon Jungkook calm the fuck down, or I'll have you on probation, you hear? The same goes for all of you. I don't want to hear any bullshit about who's right or wrong in the relationship. All I need is for us to listen to the song and figure out what we're going to tell the higher-ups. So stop acting like you're a bunch of teenagers and sit down."
Usually, Namjoon wasn't this scary. But there was a glint in his eyes that taunted the band. And they knew that in the heat of the moment, the best thing to do was to shut up and listen. Besides, he was right. The way they were going, no progress would have been made, leading to further complications. With a huff, Jungkook sits down, staring grumpily into space. He wasn't comfortable with what had just occurred, a frenzy of emotions bottling up inside him from the outburst.
Luckily for him, Eunha was quick to hold his hand into hers, soothing him enough to calm his nerves and mentally prepare himself for what was about to unfold. Because he knew he wasn't going to like it.
And true to his words, the moment Namjoon pressed play, he didn't like it. Not one bit.
Jungkook couldn't quite pin why your song made his blood boil and heart clench. From an outsider's perspective, it was a good song. A really good song. As a musician himself, Jungkook would never deny that. You had a knack for creating some really great tunes that were out of this world, after all. It was the very thing that made him ask you to start a band with him in the first place.
But there was just something about this piece in particular that seemed different. Your very aura was different, Jungkook concluded as he watched the video, listening to the way you screamed about how good it was that he was able to move on while you haven't. How you laced memories and fragments of your relationship and expertly wove them together to create a masterpiece that echoed into the very depths of his beating heart.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Because amidst the chaos, you looked free.
There was something beautiful about the way you were in the middle of a room up in flames, almost to the point where Jungkook knew that it was metaphorical. You liked metaphors. Jungkook remembers how long ago, when the band was just the two of you, you mentioned how metaphors brought out the beauty of the world. They made the ordinary extraordinary. They made the dull come to life. Metaphors were beauty itself, and that's precisely why you loved to play with them so much.
It's funny to see how that part of you hadn't changed, even after how many years.
"Jungkook?" Eunha calls out to him, a concerned look gracing over her face. "You okay?"
Honestly speaking, Jungkook didn't know. The high of his anger had finally settled, and all Jungkook felt was a burning numbness scouring through his veins. It's laughable how mere hours ago, Jungkook was sure that today would be another great day to celebrate how amazing his life was. Yet, here he is, in the middle of a conference room, watching as you submerged yourself underwater at the last scene of your music video, feeling empty.
He doesn't directly answer Eunha, afraid that if he were to say anything, unwanted words would slip from his lips, and he would unleash another round of chaos and hell. And he was too mentally exhausted to go through that again. So he merely nods, clasping Eunha's hand gently and sighing as Namjoon pauses the video, turning towards the group.
"Well," Namjoon says, surveying the room to see the band's reactions. But who was he kidding? He knew damn well that the band wasn't nearly overjoyed seeing and hearing what their old friend had to say, especially Jungkook. The poor kid looked lost. "That's that. It looks too vague to be considered a song catered to Jungkook, so I'll inform the higher-ups that it has nothing to do wi--"
Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, causing a deafening silence to befall once more as everyone watches him with cautious eyes, afraid of what he was about to do.
"I'm going to get a drink," is all he says, moving to head out the door. No one really says anything in protest, Yugyeom and Jaehyun still feeling the aftermath of the previous fight. Only Eunha seemed to be visibly bothered, scoffing at the rest of the team's reactions before quickly latching on to Jungkook's arm.
"Babe, it's still early in the morning. At least let me accompany you?" She asks, that hopeful glint burning brightly in her eyes, to the point that it makes Jaehyun recline back in his seat uncomfortably, not liking the way she seemed so unnatural. You were never like that. And while Jaehyun knew it was wrong to make comparisons, he couldn't help it.
You were his best friend just as much as Jungkook was.
"I'll go alone," is all Jungkook whispers, shrugging Eunha off who is about to protest, but Namjoon is quick to shut her up with a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking his head when she tries to chase after him. Jungkook needed to settle down and sort his thoughts through if he ever wanted a chance at getting through this situation with you.
And maybe, just maybe, he could finally make amends.
“Do you have a dream?”
This was the question that started it all, Jungkook supposed. He remembers the very day you asked him that one decisive question that, looking back, changed both of your lives. For good or for worse, Jungkook wasn’t sure. But as he reminisces the memories of the past and tries to figure out where everything went wrong, he couldn’t help the gut-wrenching feeling that settles within him. It’s so upsetting, in fact, that the moment Jungkook arrives in the pub across the street, he immediately drowns himself in a bottle of soju.
The two of you were spending the lunch break in the empty stairwell, the same place where the two of you first met and the same place where the two of you gradually started to hang out. It was a quiet space, free from the condescending eyes of the perfection-seeking kids you called classmates. It was a space where you and Jungkook could be free, even for just a little while.
Sipping on his banana milk, Jungkook looks at you curiously. You were staring at the strawberry milk he had bought you, fiddling with it nervously, not even bothering to look him in the eye. He wonders what goes on through your mind, what thoughts dance around within its hollow crevices, shaking you up and causing you to become a nervous wreck. Especially when the question wasn’t as bad as you were probably thinking.
“Hmm, do you want the honest answer or the answer everyone wants to hear?” He asks back, looking up at the ceiling. For an elite school, they didn’t do well to maintain the more hidden areas. Was that a sign that they really didn’t care about things that weren’t relevant to them? Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn’t particularly care. It was just more bearable t stare at the ceiling than sit in awkward silence,
“Honest,” you say after a few moments, much more confident than a few moments ago. After hanging out with you for a few months and observing you within the silence of your conversations, Jungkook somehow knows that no matter what he’d do, you would forever be shy. Regardless if you knew someone well or not, the first moments of conversation would always be parallel to a first meeting. It was a curious thing, honestly. But it was more intriguing once he realized that your confidence grew the more you spoke.
In a way, it was kind of cute.
“I wanna make music,” Jungkook says after snapping himself out of his trance. He once again averts his gaze from yours, but this time it wasn’t to avoid silence, but rather to think, to immerse himself in his thoughts. Because this was the first time, someone had asked him what he truly wanted to do with life. The first time someone wanted an honest answer from him, not a polished response set up to please his parents and peers.
“Not the classical kind, though,” he continues, smiling softly to himself. “Not really fond of it as much as you think.” From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook can see you gaping at him in surprise, and it causes him to chuckle. You were never really expressive beyond the weary walls of the seemingly abandoned stairwell. To the rest of the student body, you were expressionless. Someone who took all the beatings and ridicules with a blank face. As if you were a doll, waiting to be ruined.
But here, you were much more alive. Much more expressive than Jungkook was used to seeing. It was as if the (Y/N) beyond the worn steps of the stairwell was an entirely different person. A mask you placed upon yourself to protect your heart from the cruel reality you had come to face. And Jungkook was more than fascinated at the fact that you had brought that mask down for him.
“If I could, I’d do rock, maybe even some metal If I got enough courage,” he continues, smiling to himself unknowingly giddy at the sight of you. “There’s just something different about it, you know? The music runs through your system and gets you all hyped up; you just can’t resist it. And when the beat drops, it’s as if your emotions are on an all-time high, and it weirdly makes you kind of free. It made me realize that this was what music was supposed to be, I guess.”
“Wow,” you mutter, after staying within the silence of your initial awe. “That’s... poetic.” Jungkook laughs at the look of disbelief in his face, shooting his empty carton of banana milk in the air and watching in satisfaction as it lands straight into the empty trash can just right down the corner before turning to you, a grin high on his lips.
“Oh, come on,” he whines, rolling his eyes playfully. “Why do you sound so surprised? Do I not look like I’d be a good musician?”
“It’s not that!” You quickly exclaim in your defense, flailing your arms in the air to avert Jungkook’s thoughts about the situation. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was only joking, highly amused at your reactions, wanting to see more. “I just assumed you’d be more into sports, you know, since you’re so good at it? If you ask me, you kind of look like you’d do well in either football or basketball… so I just kind of assumed that was what you wanted to actually pursue. Not that wanting to pursue music is a bad thing! It’s great, it’s just that rock is kind of unexpected....”
You were beginning to ramble at this point, the shy sheep from within you bursting forth as you fiddled with your thumbs nervously, anxious to see Jungkook’s reaction. Would he be mad at you for assuming things about him off the bat? Probably not, right? You did initiate the conversation by asking him what his dream was, after all. Wait, maybe this was your fault. Gosh, you should have just asked any other question that wasn’t as deep.
This friendship thing was too difficult for your liking.
As you bury yourself in your thoughts, Jungkook couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. It was small at first, almost going unheard by you who was so deeply consumed by the matters of your mind, but the more Jungkook laughed, the louder he got until he was full-on cackling, much to your dismay, confusion, and shock.
“What’s so funny?” You ask frantically, trying to make sense of his actions. Did you say something wrong? As far as you knew, you hadn’t, but what if you had and accidentally crossed the line? You hoped not. You really didn’t want to screw any chance you had at having a real, genuine friend. But to your dismay, your questions remain unanswered as Jungkook continues to laugh, almost as if he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.
“Hey!” You exclaim, pouting. “Stop laughing at me, Jungkook!”
“I-i’m sorry,” He says after a few more laughs, trying to wipe the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. “I couldn’t help it,” He laughs again, although this time, it seems as if he’s calmed down, sporting a cheeky smile. “Your reactions are just something else!”
Jungkook watches as you become flustered, once more, much to his fascination and amusement. He’s never been the teasing type, or more like, he’s never had the opportunity to become the teasing type, especially with the perfect image he had to curate in front of his peers. But he liked this. He liked being friends with you. It made him all the more free.
“What about you?” He suddenly asks after a while, feeling that it was high time to cut you some slack. You look up at him in confusion as if you had entirely forgotten why this entire conversation had happened in the first place. “Do you have a dream?”
It’s silent, yet this time, Jungkook notes, the silence is uncanny. It’s not the same comfortable silence that Jungkook is used to whenever he was hanging out with you. It was as if the silence had suddenly crashed down and enveloped the cheery atmosphere in its deceitful arms. A trap, if you will.
And Jungkook was unsure whether he wanted to break free from it or stay there with you.
But you take the first step, finally looking up to meet him in the eyes, and Jungkook can feel his heart sink just a tad bit from how empty and solemn they were. “I don’t think so,” is all you say, brushing off the concerned look on Jungkook’s face with a smile. “I’ve never really given it much thought. That’s why I asked,” you chuckle halfheartedly, staring up at the ceiling. “Although I think it would be nice,” you say, smiling a bit more genuinely. “You know, to have a dream?”
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to react to that, anyway? No matter how difficult his life was, he had always had a dream. It kept him going, made him push through no matter the difficulty. Dreams were the driving force of life. The hope amidst the darkness. To not have a dream, even just a small one, rattled Jungkook.
It terrified him because now Jungkook realized that he knew nothing about you despite you being his first friend. He didn’t know the reason why you decided to become a living doll in the eyes of others. He didn’t understand why you subjected yourself to such suffering when, from the small talks you and Jungkook had with each other, you seemed to have a loving family.
He wanted to help you, to be there for you. Because he wasn’t sure whether or not you were actually feeling lost. That’s what friends were for, right? Jungkook wasn’t exactly sure on how to do this whole friendship thing, but if there was one thing he did know, it was the fact that friends helped each other.
And Jungkook would be damned if he couldn’t help you in any way that he could.
Soju bottles littered the lone table that Jungkook sat upon. At this point, he wasn’t sure how many bottles he had drunk, but it sure was many, more than he could handle if he were, to be honest, but amidst his drunken state, he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Why was he acting like this anyway?
He was supposed to be happy. His band was one of the most successful ones out there. He had thousands, if not millions of fans, who supported him in everything he did. So why, just why was this insignificant matter affecting him so greatly?
Was it because it was you?
“Dear, are you alright?” The old woman, running the pub asks, concerned as she sets down a piping hot bowl of warm hangover soup, which has Jungkook’s mouth watering to the point where drool almost seeps out, mainly because he only had a bite of a sandwich on his way to the office which Eunha forcibly made him eat. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to eat, especially with the array of emotions that were burning deep within him. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”
Jungkook stays silent, not even bothering to respond to the old lady, who only grows wearier at the lack of response. He didn’t mean to be rude. It was just that he couldn’t find the strength to actually do anything but wallow in his own misery. His thoughts were going on haywire, with no place to land in sight.
What had he done to deserve this? He was sure he had done nothing wrong, so why were you doing this to him when all he had done was, be nothing but nice to you? He had supported you ever since the beginning, and this was how you repaid him?
He doesn’t notice how the old lady leaves to call someone from the company, despite him not saying anything. It was probably for the best anyway. He was too out of it to even ask for help. The old lady was right and kind for going out of her way to do this for him. Although it made sense, after all, this specific pub was where Jungkook had been drinking ever since he had reached adulthood.
Maybe she would call Namjoon? It was likely, but Jungkook hoped not. He was sure that if Namjoon were to see his sorry state, he would scold him until his ears bled out. Although he couldn’t really blame Namjoon, if any manager were to see their client drinking away their woes like he was, they would probably freak out. Primarily since he was known for drinking at most two bottles. Jungkook just really didn’t want to deal with Namjoon right now, especially after what had transpired earlier.
He hoped that she would call Eunha. Sweet, loveable Eunha, who was there for him when the shitshow that was his breakup with you went down. Even until now, Jungkook was still in the dark of why you had left him and the band, but Eunha was the one who stayed by his side. Ever since he had met her two years ago when she first entered the company, they had become the best of friends. And now she was his girlfriend, and he couldn’t be happier.
All of a sudden, a familiar voice wafts through the empty pub. One that has Jungkook’s head whipping everywhere it could to figure out where it was coming from. It was sweet, melodic even. But at the same time, it had a hint of melancholy and freedom? Why was the voice so familiar? Where had he heard it before?
Jungkook’s eyes darted around, trying to see if he could spot the culprit behind his dilemma until they finally landed on the wide TV that sat in the middle of the pub, presumably for their customer’s enjoyment. And lo and behold, in his eyes, he sees you.
It was a local music show where famous stars would often find themselves performing to promote their new music. He assumed you were there to perform your new single, the one song that had him sitting here broken and destroyed with pride in your chest. Did you enjoy this?
Did you enjoy knowing that he was broken because of you?
He hated it. He hated how bright your smile was the moment he caught sight of the camera focusing on you as the hosts began their interview. You were brilliant, cheery, happy. And it sickened Jungkook to the core. Why did it seem like you were doing fine when he was here all bothered? How selfish could you possibly be?
But as much as it hurts him, he can’t find it in himself to look away. It’s a strange sensation that Jungkook couldn’t quite explain. Why couldn’t he avert his eyes from you when all he’s been feeling today was pain? It didn’t make sense. But honestly, Jungkook couldn’t tell what made sense anymore.
He watches you sing, hearing those blasted lyrics that made him rage just mere moments ago. Yet, this time, the lyrics made his heart clench. Perhaps it was the fact that your performance seemed more genuine because you were singing live. But why? Why were you singing those lyrics as if they had genuinely happened to you? Jungkook never caused you any pain, so why did it seem as if you were hurting more than him?
The thoughts were too much. It was driving Jungkook crazy, and all he wanted to do was drown in them. He didn’t want to think. Thinking heightened the pain that brimmed deep within his chest. He just wanted to float in the ocean of his misery and stay there, hoping that someday he would land ashore and the pain would come to an end.
Maybe if he took one more shot, it would help?
He pours down the last remaining soju into his shot glass, not caring if it overflowed and spilled out on the table. Rationality was far out of his mind at this point. All Jungkook wanted to do was do anything that would make him feel numb.
He raises the glass shakily, ready to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol run down his throat, that temporary relief that made him sink deep down into this endless cycle of emptiness. Yet, it doesn’t happen.
A hand shoots down to stop his wrist. It’s a familiar yet unfamiliar hold, something Jungkook can’t quite place. Where has he felt this hold before? He looks up, his eyesight a bit blurry from his drunken state, so he squints, trying to see clearly.
Who was it? Namjoon? Eunha? Heck, Jaehyun?
Turns out it was none of them.
When his sight finally clears, he gasps in shock, breath hitching in his throat as he takes it all in. Because the person, whose hold was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, wasn’t his manager, nor was it his girlfriend or best friend.
It was you.
The person, the old lady, had called to get him was you.
Well, Jungkook be damned.
When you got the call from the old lady, you were on your way to your new studio after finishing up a schedule you had prior. The past few weeks have been busy for you. Leaving the band and Jungkook was no easy feat. It was a decision that you knew was a high-risk, high reward yet at the same time had higher chances of failure.
After all, even if you hated to admit it. Without the band, you had nothing.
Sure, there was the fame that came with all of the band’s success. You were the vocalist, after all. It was exhilarating knowing that millions out there would be listening to your voice, singing music you created with people you loved dearly. But in the midst of all of that, there was nothing.
Jungkook, Jaehyun, and Yugyeom had everything going on for them. A backup plan in case the band didn’t succeed. A plan B, if you will. It made sense. They had privilege dripping from the palms of their hand, after all. Even if they had their own troubles and doubts, they didn’t have to worry about finding another way out because there already was a path laid out for them in the beginning.
You went into all of this, risking everything.
It was a choice that you had seemingly made on impulse if an outsider were to look back at the situation. When Jungkook had asked you to start a band with him, it was during another one of your many lunch dates, as you two had jokingly called it. Only this time, the two of you weren’t sitting on the cold and empty stairwell, but instead, you were in the old music room.
“I can’t believe this,” Jungkook mumbles to himself as he cranks the rusted door of the old music room open. People barely used it nowadays, much to his disbelief yet relief at the same time. He couldn’t blame them though, the brand new music room was much more enchanting, filled with top-of-the-grade musical instruments than anyone would drool over.
Well, at least it meant that he could have autonomy over the room (even though that wasn’t really the case). “You’re telling me that you never heard rock or metal before?” He gapes in disbelief as he sits on one of the dusty desks, looking at you with an outraged expression. You sheepishly enter behind him, taking a sip of your drink as you took a seat beside him.
“You never asked,” is all you say, shrugging. Jungkook looks at you once more incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. “That’s because I assumed you would have known what rock and metal are! They’re like the greatest music genres of all time. How can you not know it?”
You shrug once more, not really having an answer. Well, you did, but it was probably stupid. After all, if this was his reaction to you not knowing about rock and metal. What would his response be if he were to find out that the only music you’d ever listened to was classical and nursery rhymes? Yeah, probably not a good idea.
“Well, get ready then,” he exclaims, bringing out his phone, much to your surprise. Model student and Mr. Perfect Jeon Jungkook breaking a school rule? Who would have thought that you’d ever lived to see the day? “Because you’re about to experience an awakening, I tell you. A revolution!”
It’s amusing, really. You had never seen Jungkook as passionate as he was at the moment. Was this what it was like to have a dream? His eyes lit up as if sparkles were floating around him. As if he were about to step on cloud nine and enter paradise. He was bouncing his leg lightly in excitement, a goofy smile on his face that kind of reminded you of a bunny.
Maybe having a dream wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
He immediately scoots over to you once he has his phone ready, grabbing his earphones and plugging it into his phone, handing you the other ear. You hold it, a small smile on your face, and hook it unto your ear, not really knowing what to expect but excited all the same. After all, this was the music that made your best friend passionate and hopeful for the future. For sure, it wouldn’t be bad, right?
Well, to say the least, it was an experience. An experience you couldn’t quite tell if you enjoyed or couldn’t fathom. It was entirely different from the music that you were used to. From the bright and soothing tones came ones that were heavy and thundered on your ears. Yet, in a way, it was exhilarating.
You could see why Jungkook was attracted to this style of music. In a way, it was unhinged, a little more rebellious than the traditional types of music you were used to. But that didn’t mean it was worse. In fact, that’s what made it more exciting. Jungkook was right. In those few minutes that he had introduced you to the world of rock, you’ve gone through an array of emotions, from confusion to thrill and excitement of the highest level. The rollercoaster of new sensations was, to say the least, intoxicating,
Because immediately you got hooked.
“Wow,” you mutter, looking up at Jungkook, who was looking back at you with lively eyes. “That was… something else.”
“Right?!” He exclaims, immediately jumping off the desk to grasp your hands in excitement; it was endearing to see. Jungkook rarely got riled up like this. Music truly brought out the best in him, you thought to yourself, watching as he continued to dangle your hands in his. “Isn’t rock just amazing? Oh, what I’d do to pick up an electric guitar and play,” He sighs, and you can tell from the far-away look on his face that he’s daydreaming about something and the sight warms your heart.
“You should,” is all you say, startling Jungkook out of his trance. “I think you’d do absolutely great in music, Jungkook! You should go for it.” Jungkook looks at you, stunned. He blinks, trying to process what you had just said, before clasping your fingers a bit tighter, unsure of himself.
“Really?” He mutters softly, “You really think I can do it?”
“Of course,” you encourage with a bright smile. “If it’s you, then you can do anything!”
It’s silent for a moment, with Jungkook deep in thought. But you don’t necessarily mind, as more than anything, you understood the weight of your words. Being Jungkook’s friend meant that you stuck by him through a lot of undesirable moments, moments that both of you promised to never speak of unless it was absolutely necessary.
You knew how much he longed for his dreams. Ever since that rather inspiring conversation you had around a week ago, you knew just how much Jungkook bottled up his true passions and desires, even though there were moments wherein he would freely let them out.
“Then you have to be there with me,” he says, eyes filled with determination. “I don’t think I can do this without you (Y/N).”
Looking back at it, you chuckle at how swooned you were with Jungkook’s words. It was crazy to think that he had swept you off your feet with a mere ten words that ultimately decided the course of a good chunk of your life. You let him, and for that, you were to blame, But that didn’t necessarily mean that you regretted your decision in its entirety.
Suddenly, your phone rings from beside you, and you grab it from where it lay in your purse, only to see an old number that you hadn’t seen in a while. It’s been a year, you think, as you accept the call, pressing your phone to your ear. “Hello?”
“(Y/N) dear! It’s been such a long time!” You smile at the cheery sound present within the old lady’s voice, although you can’t deny that you hear a twinge of worry within it. You used to go to her pub every so often back when you were still in the band. And the old lady had been such a sweet soul, acting as some sort of parental figure to you and your bandmates through the years.
“It’s good to hear from you again,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised at her sudden call but also a bit suspicious because you had no idea what she was calling for. “May I ask why you’re calling me?”
“Ah!” The old lady exclaims, and suddenly the initial chirp present within her fades into a frantic tone that has your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, not sure what to expect. “Do you mind picking up your boyfriend?”
You blink, confused and startled. “I’m sorry,” you say, still not processing it clearly. “What was that?”
You hear a sigh from the other side of the phone. It sounds tiring, exasperated even, Which shouldn’t be the case since the pub usually opens up later at night. It was only open during the day for company employees. And what sane person would cause trouble with this much sunlight out?
“Your boyfriend dear,” the old lady continues, sounding absolutely done, yet at the same time, the concern was still there, and you swear you hear the sound of glass falling in the back, causing your eyebrows to furrow in worry. “He’s been drinking for hours, and this is more than he’s ever drunk!”
You stay silent, letting it all sink in. The only person she could have possibly been referring to was Jungkook. There was no doubt about that. After all, the old lady’s pub was where you and Jungkook would often find yourselves having late-night rendezvous, drinking the night away as you bonded over whatever life was throwing at you within those moments.
But now, the pub gave you nothing but pain.
“Grandma, I’m sorry to tell you this, but me and Jungkook aren’t—”
“—So you’ll come, yes? Thank you, dear! Truly a lifesaver!”
She hangs up. You stare at your phone in disbelief, shocked at the predicament you had unknowingly gotten yourself into. What were you supposed to do now? The responsible thing to do was to probably phone Namjoon and tell him about the situation. But with what had just transpired earlier today with the release of your single last night and your performance this morning, you’re not so sure he would appreciate any sort of contact from you.
With a sigh, you turn to head towards the pub. No matter how much you hated Jungkook for the way he treated you within the last few stages of your relationship, you couldn’t leave him alone to wallow in his misery (even though there was a part of you that was secretly glad that he was torn because of you). It would be too cruel of you. Especially considering that Jungkook had been a significant part of your life.
Huh, guess you haven’t moved on as much as you thought you had.
Even just reaching the pub brought back memories that you wish wouldn’t resurface. You and Jungkook used to wrestle over who would open the door for the other, and more often than not, Jungkook won. But you weren’t one to lose quickly, even to him.
The familiar jingle that came with opening the door brought a pang of nostalgia to your heart. When you and Jungkook would enter the pub, just ten seconds after the jingle faded away, the old lady would come out of her quaint kitchen and say
“Welcome home— Oh, there you are, dear!”
Not exactly how you remembered it, but it was still familiar all the same.
“Hello grandma, how are you?” You greet with a solemn smile, watching with fond eyes as the old lady comes up to clasp your hands within her own. “Oh dear, I haven’t seen you in forever. Why haven’t you visited in so long?”
You’re not sure what to say. How are you supposed to tell her that you left and broke up with the man she asked you to pick up? That would put her in an awkward position, and you didn’t want to cause stress for the already weary lady.
“Oh, never mind that,” she says, luckily dropping the subject. “Come in, come in, your boyfriend’s over there drinking in the corner. Did something happen? I’ve honestly never seen him drink this much before. At this rate, he’s going to finish my soju supply before I open up for the night!”
You enter the main area, and immediately you’re hit with the familiar, comforting scent of alcohol and home-cooked meals, as odd as it sounds. Although the smell of alcohol was by far heavier in the air, and as you turn to look for the source, your eyes land in Jungkook.
And you’re, for lack of a better word, shocked.
It was almost as if he was drowning in an ocean of soju bottles, with some of the alcohol dripping off the table and into the ground or his clothes. Partly because he was pouring himself another shot, which you know he can’t take.
He could barely handle two bottles when the two of you were dating, so why did it feel like he was drinking more than ten. If he wasn’t stopped now, something majorly damaging could happen to him, and as much as you never wanted to speak to him, you couldn’t just ignore him when he was literally on the brink of life and death.
You stomp on over to where he’s at, hastily quickening your steps as he’s about to down his last shot, and before you can even think about what to do, your instincts act on their own, and your hand reaches out to him, stopping him.
No words are spoken. Rather, you can’t find the words to say as you watch with solemn eyes as Jungkook looks at his hand confused. He tries to shake it, to move his arm so he can bring the shot glass to his lips, but you remain firm in your grip, clasping just a bit harder so he wouldn’t push through with the shot.
He looks around, following the trail left by your grasp until he meets your eyes, and already you can feel the whirlwind of emotions bubbling up inside you. This was the first time you and Jungkook have met after the breakup after leaving the band. You never expected the two of you to meet this way. Although, you supposed life was funny like that. It liked to throw unexpected situations in your face, especially in the most inappropriate times.
You watch as he squints, trying to make sense of who you were before he gasps, arm slacking, falling into the side as the alcohol from the shot glass splatters into the air. He squints once more as if trying to ensure that what he was seeing in front of him was real before stammering.
“(Y/N)?” He whispers, broken, voice breaking. You try not to let your emotions show, knowing that if you do, he’d only lure you back into him, which was something you did not want at all. You were done. After many months, heck years of being torn apart by him, you couldn’t afford any more pain. It would break you even more than it already did,
“Hey,” you whisper back, breath hitching as you watch the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sound of your voice, loud and clear for him to hear. Even with his drunken state, he can’t deny the pang of nostalgia that runs through his veins once he finally registers that it’s you standing before him. In the flesh. Not a vision on TV or a picture of you from his memories.
It was you.
“What are you doing here?” He slurs, trying to reach out to you, but you move away, refusing him any form of affection. Because you two were too far gone for that.
“Grandma called,” is all you say, the disappointed look in Jungkook’s eyes not going unnoticed. “Asked me to pick you up. Said you’ve been drinking more than you used to and… I can see that.”
You gesture to the empty soju bottles that littered the table with a grimace, turning back to Jungkook only to hear him scoff and point a finger to you accusingly, although with his drunken state, his posture was way off. “Who do you think’s to blame?” He asks, sarcasm laced within his tone. You raise an eyebrow at that, choosing to let him continue before you could offer back any sarcastic remark of your own.
“It’s you!” He continues, slamming his fist to the table, much to your surprise. “You and your stupid fucking song…. I mean, what the fuck is up that?”
“What the fuck is up with what, Jungkook?” You quip back, eyeing his fist cautiously in the case he would do something dangerous that would either injure him, you, or if worse comes to worst, both.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” He continues, and Jungkook can feel the irritation, frustration, and fatigue build within him now that he’s finally gotten a chance to let all these raging emotions out. “You know what you did! Why’d you do it, huh?” His voice grows louder, causing you to flinch as you move your chair back just a bit.
“Why’d you have to ruin my fucking reputation?”
All of a sudden, it’s like something in you snaps.
You can’t believe it. You can’t believe the audacity Jungkook had to say something as outrageous and stupid as what he just said. The emotions that were already burning up within you finally exploded as you stared at him with all the anger and disbelief you could muster.
And here you thought he was drinking because he had finally realized all the wrongs he had done to you. What a fool you were.
“Excuse me?” You say, exasperated. “What did you just fucking say?”
“I said what I said (Y/N),” Jungkook continued, not noticing the way rage was about to take you into its waiting arms, only to allow you to explode upon him with all the pent-up hurt that you’ve accumulated inside you. “You and your fucking song ruined the band any my reputation. Is this how you repay me after everything I’ve done for you?”
You blink. The words slowly make their way towards you as you try to process them, letting out a chuckle at how ridiculous his words were. “Are you being serious right now?” You say, scoffing at how there wasn’t an inch of regret on Jungkook’s face. “You’ve got to be joking, right?”
You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You want to give him a chance to prove your ears, mind, and heart wrong. That he wasn’t actually thinking those absurd thoughts that had your gut-wrenching and your heartbreaking after already being broken. This couldn’t be the Jungkook that you knew, right? He wouldn’t be this cruel, right?
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“You piece of shit.” You spat without even realizing it, surprising Jungkook. He’s sobered up just a little from your outburst, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, you regret speaking without any thought. But the more you try to rationalize it, the more the anger burns. This was unacceptable.
“Reputation?” You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “You’re fucking worried about your reputation when there are bigger issues to be addressed here?”
“(Y/N) I—”
“Shut up, Jungkook,” you say, cutting him off coldly. “You don’t get a say in this when all you’re worried about is your reputation over a broken relationship with someone you’ve grown up with for the past thirteen years!”
Wide-eyed, Jungkook gapes at you, and you, in your disgruntled state, take this chance to get back at him, unleashing all the feelings you’ve buried deep inside you.
“You dare ask me why I’m treating you this way when you’ve been nothing but nice to me?” You mock, his words hurting more than they should. “Do you even bother to ask yourself as to why I broke up with you in the first place, Jungkook? Why I left? Did you even bother to listen to my song?”
His silence echoes throughout the pub, further shattering any lingering hope that you had about the situation. “No,” he says after a while, firm in his belief as he stared back at you, although his gaze seemed as if it could easily water away. “Didn’t think it was necessary; after all I did nothing wro—”
“—You treated me like shit for the last two years of our relationship, Jungkook. That’s what you did wrong.” You exclaim, not wanting to hear his excuses. “Are you really this blind to not know? To not see your own faults?”
How could he? You think to yourself, the unbearable pain of this revelation thrumming through every fibre of your being. It was painful. Painful to hear that he hadn’t even thought about the situation through your lens. He was too absorbed with what he had going for himself that he failed to see the world through your eyes, and it frustrated you to no end.
Because that breakup broke you like no other.
Choosing to leave wasn’t an easy decision, by no means. You had risked everything to help support Jungkook in hopes that you would find a dream of your own. You joined the band, knowing that you would put your family’s safety and security at risk instead of pursuing a more stable career like starting a business or becoming a doctor.
You became selfish to follow Jungkook, so of course, you were attached.
Jungkook, in a sense, was your world. You suppose, looking back at it now, that wasn’t the healthiest decision you took for yourself. But at that time, you could not help yourself. He was your first friend, your first love, your first everything. Jungkook showed you the ways of the world and then shattered it without a care. Of course, more than any other breakup, it would tear you apart.
Because to be honest, loving Jungkook made you happy. You remember when he first asked you out. Probably one of the best moments of your entire life. It happened after your band’s first major gig to open up the local summer festival. The two of you were still calming down from the high of the performance, excited, thrilled to have finally been given the opportunity in front of a bigger crowd. It felt surreal seeing the fascinated faces and happy smiles as they listen to your music.
Jungkook was right. This feeling was incredible.
“Holy shit. That was amazing,” Jaehyun laughs, hugging Yugyeom before turning to hug you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe we just did that!”
“Do you think they liked us?” Yugyeom, ever the timid one asks. “I felt like I made a mistake somewhere along the second cho—“
“—Who cares, man?” Jungkook says, cutting Yugyeom off with a playful slap to the back. “We just fucking performed our first major gig. This isn’t time to be wallowing down on our mistakes. This is a time to celebrate!”
You and Jaehyun hollered in agreement, following Jungkook as he dragged Yugyeom backstage where the four of you packed up, took a few commemorative pictures, and made your way towards the nearest convenience store to celebrate the night with some good old ramen, ice cream, and whatever your hearts desired.
It was a fun night, one filled with laughter as the four of you joked about whatever your mind could think of. Jungkook boasted about how he was right about their band getting somewhere, of how Jaehyun and Yugyeom, who were much more hesitant in joining the band, and after months of no progress, we’re beginning to regret it, had nothing to worry about.
Jaehyun and Yugyeom even mustered up the courage to do a speed eating challenge, grabbing about her round of hot piping ramen and racing to see who could eat it the fastest, despite the heat burning their tongues both literally and figuratively.
It was a night where for once, the four of you didn’t have to worry about life outside of the band. Didn’t have to worry about the social pressure from school or home, Didn’t have to worry about stupid tests or becoming the best, for once the four of you could just be yourselves. Unapologetic and free.
When Jaehyun and Yugyeom decided to pack it up and head home, saying that if they didn’t arrive before their dreaded curfew, then their parents would literally send them to the pits of hell, you didn’t notice the way Jungkook grew silent. Maybe you did, but you were too preoccupied with the nauseated looks on Jaehyun and Yugyeom’s faces as they headed towards the public restroom to flush out the ramen in their system.
“Hey (Y/N)?” Jungkook asks once Jaehyun and Yugyeom are nowhere to be seen. You hum in response, turning to look back at him, and immediately your eyes become overwhelmed with worry at the serious look on his face as he gazes up at the night sky, seemingly nervous and scared.
“Will you go out with me?”
It’s unexpected, a bomb to your heart if you could call it. You gasp the moment the words flow out of his mouth, staring at Jungkook in shock. Did he really just ask you out?
You think it’s a joke. A cruel trick of nature. But by the way, Jungkook nervously fidgets from where he sits, and his eyes nervously dart around. Like they usually do during nerve-wracking situations like these, you knew in your heart that his words were true.
And you couldn’t be more overjoyed because you had fallen for Jeon Jungkook too.
Throughout your many years of friendship, you had gotten to know Jungkook inside out. You were there when he threw a mini tantrum over missing first place in the final exam by one point, knowing that his parents would be disappointed in him. You were there when the two of you went out to buy his first-ever electric guitar after months of saving up money secretly. You were there for him when he was convincing Jaehyun and Yugyeom to join the band, even when he was about to get into a fight with Jaehyun over the matter.
And like clockwork, you had fallen.
It wasn’t particularly hard to do so. Jungkook had this certain charm to him, after all. He was an enigma. He could draw people into his rhythm like it was nothing and have them follow to the beat of his own drum. Sometimes you wondered if there was a hidden secret with the way he could so easily attract people, but the more you hung out, the more you realized that wasn’t the case at all. He was genuine in everything he did.
“Yes,” you say without hesitation, causing Jungkook to whip his head to face you in the blink of an eye, mouth slacking in shock. He blinks, you smile, and suddenly a smile of his own is forming on his face, reaching all the way into his eyes.
“For real?” He whispers, not wanting this moment to slip away from his grasp. He was so close to having you in his arms, something he’s wanted for the longest time, that he was afraid that if he spoke any louder, he would ruin any chance he got. But your reassuring gaze and gentle hold immediately calm the raging wave of anxiety within him. “For real,” you affirm, and suddenly you’re in Jungkook’s embrace.
It’s a warm embrace, one that has you returning it back with the same vigor, the same excitement bubbling in your chest. This marked the beginning of a new chapter for you and Jungkook, one where the two of you would walk down the unclear path you have chosen, still remaining by each other’s side, but this time, with hands intertwined.
You just wished it didn’t go up into flames like this.
You blink, snapping out of your trance as you gaze at Jungkook. Once more, seeing the way his lips were pursed into a thin line, his brows furrowed as if he had a lot going on through his mind. Which was only fitting. He had to, or else this wave of hurt and pain would only intensify and turn into something you would never be able to control.
Remembering the happy moments was something you had promised yourself not to do, for it only brought you into another world of pain after looking at how the two of you were faring now. But in the midst of agony staring right at you, you couldn’t help but let yourself reminisce in hopes of relieving some of that anger and hurt so you wouldn’t do anything out of hand.
“Tell me, Jungkook,” you finally say after a moment of silence, and you want to curse yourself for the way your voice cracks at the end. You had to be strong. You had to get through this. Because there was no way, you were going to let Jungkook ruin you once more. “How do you think our relationship was going within the last two years?”
Silence befalls the room for what feels like the millionth time, But this one is heavier than the last. Jungkook looks at you with such a severe gaze that you almost falter, forgetting the fact that he’s drunk with the way his eyes bore into yours.
You dread his answer, not knowing what to expect. With the way, he was acting, and with all the things he’s said and done, you knew that his words would only hurt you even more from here on out. You clutch the fanfic of your sweater tightly, hanging on by a thread.
But he says nothing.
The heavy silence lasts longer, and the more it persists, the more disappointment and disbelief creep into the cracked crevices of your already broken heart. Was he really going to act this way? Saying nothing at all? Did your relationship mean nothing to him in the past 2 years?
“Unbelievable,” you mutter, letting out a scoff as your eyes scan his figure. He’s hunched up as if unsure of what to do, what to think, or what to say. There’s probably a flurry of emotions running through his mind, but you don’t pity him. You hope it continues to weigh heavy, as it did to you for the last three years.
“I was miserable, Jungkook,” you whisper, recounting the memories you had buried deep within, afraid to open them up again at the cost of your already fragile happiness. But to be truly happy, one needs to let go of all the agony locked within. “Ever since Eunha came into our lives, you started treating me like a side character, as if I wasn’t your girlfriend.”
“And no,” you say sternly, already knowing what Jungkook was to say by the way his eyes widened and his mouth slacked, an arm up in protest for your words. “I’m not blaming Eunha entirely, contrary to what you may think. Sure, her arrival started it all. Sure, there were times where she acted so out of line that I wanted to slap her in the face n’s remind her who exactly she was talking to. But I couldn’t. Do you know why, Jungkook?”
His eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you take a deep breath as you gather your thoughts. This was the first time you were finally going to let out all of your frustrations that’s been building up inside you for the past few years. It was a nerve-wracking feat, but a necessary one nonetheless, as even in those few moments of speaking, you were starting to feel just a bit more free.
“Because I didn’t even know who I was anymore.”
Jungkook’s never been this confused in his life.
It’s as if you had dropped a bomb on him without warning, causing him to be in a frenzy. What did you mean? How could you blame Eunha? Eunha was a sweet girl who could do no wrong. She was there for him whenever he needed that extra support, whenever he needed someone to ground him in this cruel, unforgiving world.
She was there when you weren’t and was a constant in his life. How could such a sweet girl like her be the catalyst of this catastrophic situation? It had to be a joke.
“You’re lying,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. The pain in his heart was coming back again, and just when he thought he had finally gotten rid of that after drowning in alcohol moments ago. This was your fault. You and your stupid song, your stupid lies. You were driving me crazy.
“I’m lying?” You ask, and Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes, feeling another burst of pain shoot through him at the agonizing expression on your face. Why did you look so hurt? He did nothing wrong. He didn’t hurt you. He couldn’t have. He had always been there for you. He was the reason you could do what you could in the first place. There was just no way that misery was because of him.
“Jungkook, did you even realize that with how much time you were spending with Eunha, you weren’t spending time with me anymore? Remember how you used to walk me home at midnight after your time at the studio and my radio show? You stopped doing that ever since she appeared.”
Lies.
“For days, I stood outside the company for hours, waiting for you to bring me home because you promised that you’d never miss it for the world. And on the day that I finally decided to check up on you, worried that you might have been overworking yourself? I see you in the studio, laughing with Eunha.”
Jungkook wanted to scream. He was stressed. He had to make music. Why couldn’t you understand that?
“And when I confronted you about it? You shrugged me off, saying I was overly dramatic.”
You are. Jungkook insists in his head, thoughts spiraling. What’s wrong with him not bringing you home. Even if he was your boyfriend, he was not obligated to, right? You were supposed to understand him, right? That’s what lovers are supposed to do.
“I thought to myself, maybe you were right. Maybe I was overdramatic, so I did what you asked and shrugged me off. Yet, with each passing day, it felt like I was a stranger in your eyes. Do you even realize Jungkook that ever since Eunha came into our lives, we’ve only been on three dates?”
You’re too demanding, his mind screams. Three dates? That was plenty for successful stars of your caliber. You had to understand that being under the limelight meant that he couldn’t reserve all the time in the world for you.
His heart clenches painfully again, and Jungkook feels a sob hitch in his throat.
“It hurt.” You cry, letting out the words that Jungkook wanted to say. “It hurt so much watching the love of my life and my best friend toss me to the side. Where was the you that promised that you’d always be there for me? Where was the you that promised to stay?”
You’re crying now, tears streaming down your face as the words you’ve kept hidden for the longest time finally make their way out of your system. Every part of you was screaming in agony and pain, and you can feel the mended parts of your patched-up heart slowly break again.
“Jungkook, I loved you. I loved you so much that I risked it all for you. I joined the band even though I wasn’t sure of our future because I saw how happy you were. You showed me what happiness could be, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that, but at the same time, you showed me firsthand real pain and heartbreak. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for doing that.”
No. Why? You had to forgive him. You were his best friend. Stop. Stop speaking. Stop it.
“I left because I wanted to keep what we still had within our memories.” You whisper, remembering the night you finally came to your decision. Remembering all the times you cried and broke down, not knowing what to do or where you should go. All the times where you forced yourself to put on a smile on your face and act as if everything was fine even though it wasn’t.
“And I hoped that in leaving, we could pick up all the broken pieces and create something new with them. Maybe it would not have been a relationship as strong as the one we’ve had before. But at least it was something. And at least I would have still had a connection to you.”
You’re calm now, in a much better headspace than before. But that didn’t mean the ocean of despair that you surrounded yourself in dwindled in the slightest. It was still there, waiting in silence for the moment it could envelop you once more into its treacherous arms and drown you in its suffocating whispers.
“But what the fuck is this?”
You can feel the tides begin to sway, and you will yourself desperately to keep them down. With how the situation was unfolding, you needed to be the bigger person. For your sanity, For Jungkook’s, and for the closure that you both needed, which you weren’t sure would ever peacefully come to an end.
“I never thought that you’d think of us like this Jungkook,” you whisper, and much to your horror, a tear slipped from the crevices of eyes as you hurriedly wiped them, standing up to grab your purse as you stood to leave the pub, not caring one bit if Jungkook got home safely or not, you were too overwhelmed to care.
“I thought you loved me,” You whisper as you turn to look at him one final time, and all of a sudden, Jungkook is hit with wave after wave of sadness, anger, pain, frustration radiating from you. It suffocates him, and the only thought running through his head were questions of him hurting you? Was this really all his fault?
“But I guess you only loved yourself.” A chuckle falls from your lips as you make your first step out of the door. Not paying mind to the old lady who looks at you with a worried gaze, you turn to open the door of the pub, only for someone else to beat you to it.
Lo and Behold, It’s Eunha.
“You,” She gasps as she takes in your disheveled and exhausted state. Although that immediate shock quickly disappears as she catches Jungkook’s equally petrified state from the corner of her eye. She then glares at you, but you honestly can’t find the energy within you to care.
Because this was never about her in the first place, even if in some way she plays a small part.
“What did you do?” Eunha spats as she rushes past you to go to Jungkook, not even bothering to hear you out. You sigh, gathering the last remaining buts of courage within clenched fists, and make your way out of the door, leaving Jungkook, your broken heart, and the memories you two shared behind for good.
Not caring what he would do with those fragments in the end.
“Jungkook!”
Eunha exclaims, immediately hooking her arms around him and hoisting him up into an embrace. “What happened? What did that bitch do?” But Jungkook doesn’t answer, thoroughly overwhelmed by the range of emotions that had just surpassed him from his conversation with you.
Was it truly his fault? Was he the reason why things had turned out this way? There was no way right. He had treated you right, right?
Jungkook tries to convince himself that he’s done nothing wrong, that he was perfectly innocent in this situation. But that nagging feeling deep within his mind and soul screams at him to finally realize the truth. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to know what lies beyond the bubble of happiness he had placed himself in. He doesn’t want to feel the agonizing pain he’s put himself through without realizing it.
But not doing so would kill him more than knowing the truth ever will.
So he opens the door to the truth and wallows in the misery of what he’s done.
To be fair, there was some truth to Jungkook’s words. He had treated you like you were the most precious thing in the universe. And that was because, for the longest time, Jungkook did consider you highly special to him. You were his first friend, the first person he could confide his feelings in, the first person who showed him what love could be like.
You grew up together, cried together, had your first drink together, stood on stage for the first time together. You had done just about everything together, and Jungkook cherished you more than anything in the world.
In everything he did, he always tried to make you a part of it. Whether that meant buying your favorite drink or sending you pictures of whatever he was doing, Jungkook always wanted to help you see the world through his eyes because you deserved that much.
Ice cream dates, sneaking out at night to have some chicken and beer, random dates at the local arcade, a stroll at the beach. You and Jungkook had practically done it all. So, where did it all fall apart? Where did Jungkook go wrong?
“Jungkook?” Eunha calls out, and Jungkook finally musters up the courage to look at Eunha, who was worriedly trying to get him to answer her. Her hold is familiar, something he’s been used to in the past two years, yet at the same time, something was missing within her warmth. An unexplainable feeling he couldn’t quite describe.
And then he realized it wasn’t you.
Just when did he go astray? When did he start treating you like you weren’t the world to him? For sure, it wasn’t a singular moment. It was most definitely a culmination of many events that led up to his demise. But just how did it happen?
He looks at Eunha’s worried eyes, those same eyes that he thought meant the world to him within those two years of your break up. Yet, for some reason, he just couldn’t look at them in the same way anymore. Not when there was this hollow emptiness in his heart that called out for you and only you,
It was like a game of tug and war in his heart. He still loved Eunha; that much was for sure. But he couldn’t deny the love that he had for you as well. He remembered how Eunha was like a breath of fresh air for him. In the midst of all your nagging for him to take care of himself when he was working his ass off making new songs and dealing with management, Eunha was there to simply smile and encourage Jungkook.
Like a fool, he got lured into Eunha’s charm and held onto it, not noticing that he was letting go of you in the process.
His heart wails. It cries in pain and desperation of the love it has lost. Why did it have to be this way? Why was Jungkook such a fool? So consumed by his own selfishness, he abandoned the love you two shared and sought another, and now he was reaping what he had sown.
You were gone. You would never come back. Whatever love you had between the two of you had left and died out. The world was cruel. It had given Jungkook so much hope yet took it away from him the moment he slipped up. Yet, he couldn’t really blame them. He couldn’t really blame you.
Because he knew you had tried, he could see it in the way your eyes still cried out in pain when you see him. He could hear it in the agony of your voice as you sang passionately in your songs. He knew you did your best to pick up the fallen pieces and try to mend them back together. But all Jungkook did was rip them apart all over again.
Life couldn’t have been any better for Jeon Jungkook until suddenly it was not.
And he was the only one to blame.
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#bts x reader#bangtan x reader#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jeongguk x reader#jeon jeongguk x reader#bts jungkook x reader#bts fanfiction
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the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)
pairing: chris evans x fem!reader
summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.
warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health
**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.
If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!
-end rant-
This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:
@princess-evans-addict
@mrs-djokovic
@slut-for-chris-evans
@saltyflowermakertaco
@bitchyslut99
@patzammit
@itskikiyooo
@maximeevansblog
Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.
Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.
"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.
In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.
"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.
"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."
"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.
"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.
"I'm not Jenny."
"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.
"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.
"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."
"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.
"No I'm not her assistant either."
"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.
"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"
"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."
"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.
"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.
"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.
"It's clear that you're drunk."
He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"
"I do now." You say tersely.
"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."
Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.
"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"
"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.
"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.
"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"
Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.
"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.
"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.
"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.
"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.
"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."
"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”
You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.
"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”
Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"
"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.
"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.
"Far from it."
"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.
"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.
"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.
"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."
"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.
"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.
"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.
"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.
"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.
"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.
"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."
"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"
"Pretty much."
"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"
"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."
"And what made you come to that realization?"
"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."
Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.
"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."
"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."
"Wow."
"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."
"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.
"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"
"Loud and clear."
"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."
"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.
"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.
"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."
"Sure, on me and that'd be great."
"Thanks."
"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.
"Nice."
"You have a goodnight now Chris."
"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.
He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.
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Måneskin: "Different from whom?"
Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.
The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas
After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano
From rags to riches - what a story
It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria
The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre
Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano
Against panic - The stage as therapy
I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria
This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano
Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)
Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano
The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it
After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan
Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom
We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria
Sexism - A culture to be dismantled
Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano
To grow as a person - The only rule to follow
For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan
“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria
Love - music and girlfriends
I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan
Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas
When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria
I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano
The value of the group - Protecting each other
But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas
Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)
Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano
Reached the sky - What fears still remain
We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano
(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)
[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).
Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]
#maneskin#ethan torchio#damiano david#victoria de angelis#thomas raggi#i'm off to drink some wine lol
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Here’s that fic I mentioned that I started. The one where Sarah escaped the fire and ended up in hospital with trauma based amnesia and then shows up in January 2015 as Robert and Chrissie’s wedding planner right in the middle of affair era. Someone read the beginning and make me finish it at some point. Haha. I did have it mostly planned out. I just got lazy.
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It’s Monday morning and Robert’s in the office, tapping his pen against the desk. He’s the first one in, hoping that shows his initiative. Tap, tap, tap turns into Aaron, Aaron, Aaron in his mind. Aaron’s all he can ever think about these days. And right now, Aaron’s mad with him, which grates on him, makes him itch for another touch, another taste that he can’t have until he gets Aaron to change his opinion of him again. He’d managed before, at Andy’s wedding. He can get him on side again. Aaron’s a challenge but he’s a people person. He can do this. And it’s not like Lachlan isn’t perfectly alright again, home from the hospital and back to being a pain and stressing Chrissie out.
Tap, tap, tap. He should be calling a client back about a shoot they want to book next month but his mind can only focus on Aaron, Aaron, Aaron.
He pulls out his phone and the taps become a text. ‘Kiss and make up?’ He writes, chuckling to himself.
It’s Aaron’s birthday today, he knows. Vic had mentioned something the other day and he’d filed away the information in his head. He hopes Aaron doesn’t have big plans. Besides, what better present than Robert shagging him senseless? He doesn’t add that to the message, just smiles and hits send. Now he has to wait.
The papers on his desk flutter as Chrissie blows into the room, wedding binder clutched in her arms. He doesn’t even think she sees him there as she starts rummaging through every stack of papers she can get her hands on, lines of frustration growing deeper on her forehead.
“Have you seen the sample that the printer sent over for the order of service?” She asks. So she did see him. He takes too long to respond, so she stops her whirlwind and stares at him. “Robert?”
He makes a show of looking around his desk before shaking his head. “No,” he tells her. “Wasn’t that the whole point of hiring a new wedding planner in the first place? So they can keep all of this stuff straight?”
She huffs at him, looking irritated, which feels like her default with him at this point. He really should do something about that, so he gets up and starts helping her look for the sample which seems to please her.
She’d fired their first wedding planner, Leyla, after the suit measuring incident. Chrissie just didn’t feel comfortable having her work so closely with her husband to be. It was ironic then that that incident had given him the motivation to seek out Aaron in the first place. He didn’t think much more on that, shifting papers around for a distraction. After that, Chrissie had taken over the wedding planning herself, which was worse, because it meant she checked in with him on everything. He knew more about floral arrangements and place cards and the food allergies of her friends than he ever wanted or needed to know. Still, it had been going alright and Aaron had often given him a much needed reprieve. Then Lachlan had gone and decided to end up in the hospital full of drugs, which was somehow his fault by all accounts and it had all become too much for her. Seating charts and dresses and first dance songs, none of it had been important when poor little Lucky had gotten himself into a mess. Still, there was a wedding to plan because despite being furious with him, he’d managed to make amends enough that she still wanted to marry him and he needed to make sure it stayed that way. All he’d worked for depended on it.
He’d suggested hiring Leyla back but she wouldn’t hear of it, especially not since Katie had been in her ear again. Instead, she’d hired someone from Hotten and he’d encouraged it. Anything that got him out of being on hand for every decision. Except maybe cake tasting, he thinks he could do that.
“I still have to show her what I’ve done so far,” Chrissie tells him, looking around frantically. “She’s coming here in half and hour. I need that sample.”
“Then we’ll find it,” he placates her as his phone buzzes in his pocket.
He pulls it out to see ‘A’ pop up on his screen. It makes him smile. He can’t help it but he quickly forces the corners of his mouth down before Chrissie sees.
‘You think that’s all it’s going to take?’ reads the reply when he opens it.
His fingers are tapping out a response before his brain can even tell him not to, ‘oh I think you know I can do so much more than that.’
His body is singing with nerves as he waits for a reply.
“I expect you to be here when she arrives,” Chrissie says pointedly once she’s noticed he’s stopped going through the motions of looking for the sample.
Robert sighs. He really hadn’t planned on sticking around for her meeting, hadn’t even remembered it was happening until right now. “I uh-“ he stalls, trying to think of an excuse.
His phone buzzes in his hand again. ‘Fine. Barn in an hour. But ur not off the hook yet,’ he reads, picturing Aaron typing with that frown of his that’s not a frown.
“I’ve got a meeting,” he tells Chrissie. “I can’t.” The amount of meetings he’s lied about in the last month are getting a bit out of hand but what can he do?
“Surely this is more important,” she sounds cross with him. “Can’t Dad go?”
Lawrence can definitely not take this meeting for him. Still, he needs to keep on her good side or they won’t need this wedding planner at all. Abandoning the search, he sidles up to her, takes her hands in his and flashes that charming smile he’s perfected so well. “This is important,” he tells her, “you know it is. And I promise, I’ll make the next one and you can fill me in on every detail when I get back.” He can’t think of anything more tedious.
She purses her lips in a pout, making them look so kissable so he leans in and captures them with his. It takes her a second or two of defiance before she’s kissing him back, wrapping her hands around his waist. He loves Chrissie, he reminds himself. For a second, he thinks maybe Aaron can wait. No one is around. He could just push all of the papers off of his desk and...he moves his lips across her cheek and down into her neck, reaching out toward the desk with his hand when he opens his eyes and sees it, the sample, tucked under a file folder that he swears he looked under before.
“Here it is,” he says, pulling back. “Your print sample!”
Chrissie’s eyes light up. “Perfect!” She accepts it greedily and shoves it into her binder. “You don’t have to go right now do you? To this meeting?”
No, he thinks, licking his lips as he moves closer again, ready for more but she pushes him off.
“Robert!” She scolds him with a laugh. “She’ll be here soon, the wedding planner. You can at least meet her before you go.”
He sighs, disappointed at being denied. Sex, he’s always been good at that part. It’s the rest of making a relationship work that he’s sometimes rubbish at. “Yes, I’ll meet her,” he says quickly as another text comes through for him.
‘Well?’ Aaron asks him and he pictures him looking annoyed, glaring at the phone, a crease in his forehead between his eyebrows, but biting at his lip which always makes Robert weak for him.
“Briefly,” he tells Chrissie, giving her a hug so he can text behind her back. ‘I’ll be there,’ he tells Aaron. To Chrissie, he says, “I really can’t be late to this meeting.”
—-
By the time the wedding planner is due to arrive he’s pacing, back and forth across the living room floor much to Chrissie’s annoyance. He can’t help it though. He knows how stroppy Aaron gets when he’s late. Although, part of him enjoys the grumpiness, the part of Aaron that doesn’t just fall at his feet, that makes him work for it. He must be mad.
There’s a knock on the door and he’s hot on Chrissie’s heels as she goes to answer it, phone in his hand and ready to text Aaron and say he’s on his way. He’s already trying to think up an excuse if he’s late. Something that’s not ‘I had to meet with our wedding planner’. Nothing kills the mood more than reminding Aaron that he’s not the only one in his life.
The door swings open and Robert looks up, his phone slipping from suddenly sweaty hands and crashing to the floor. He’s sure his screen’s cracked but that doesn’t matter, his eyes are locked on the ghost in the doorway.
There’s concern in her eyes as she looks at him, concern he recognizes, remembers, has wished for, for years. It can’t be though. She’s older, but she would be. Her hair’s different, more modern, a bob with a bit of grey in it. Grey like she means for it to be there, like she’s proud of it. There’s still some of her old color too, though he’s sure it’s not real anymore. He doesn’t know if she’s real either. There’s crows feet around her eyes, that are still watching him curiously. Those are new. And then she smiles at him, maybe at Chrissie, but that smile is one he’s longed to see again, filled with the warmth of a home he’s been away from for too long.
All so familiar but what makes him certain, what makes him blurt out the word as she introduces herself, Vicky Roberts, the wedding planner, is what he sees under the scarf around her neck. It’s there for warmth, he knows, the scarf. It is January in Yorkshire after all. Underneath though, creeping along her skin up toward her jaw is the puckered skin of a scar, a burn. On the hand she extends toward Chrissie there’s another, reaching back under the sleeve of her jumper and coat.
“Mum?” The word feels heavy on his tongue and it lands like lead in the room as both women turn to gawp at him.
—-
“Robert!” Chrissie’s voice is sharp, half with surprise and half scolding him like a child for making a scene. She scoops up his phone and if he had any of his wits about him at the moment he’d be glad for the cracked screen. “What are you-?” She starts but then whispers, “Don’t be rude.”
He feels insane but it’s her, he’s so sure of it. Still, it can’t be. She’s been dead for so long. Surely he’s just seeing things.
It’s the woman in the doorway herself who makes it feel like he’s not completely lost it. “You-you know me?” She asks, her voice small and tentative.
“Well of course not,” Chrissie decides for the both of them. “Robert, darling, are you alright?”
She thinks he’s gone mad. Maybe he has but his mum is standing there in front of him, looking desperate for him to speak again.
“You’re my-“ It feels ridiculous for him to even say it again. “I think-“ he amends, “I think you’re my mum.”
—-
She’s sitting in their living room now, his mum, Sarah, Vicky Roberts, and she can’t stop staring at him and he can’t stop looking at her. Chrissie’s moving around their little bubble, bringing them tea, asking how she likes it.
“One sugar and a dash of milk,” Robert answers for her, the phrase coming back to him.
“How did you-?” his mum questions through a smile. Chrissie’s waiting, not believing him. “He’s exactly right,” she confirms.
He watches her sip at her tea and he feels like he’s gone back in time. She doesn’t remember the past though she’d told him. Amnesia from trauma from the fire she was in. She didn’t know anymore than that. Just that she’d been found on the side of the road just outside Hotten with no idea how she’d gotten there. A head wound and burns across her body had left her in a coma for months and when she’d come out of it her mind was blank and she’d been scrabbling around for some kind of familiarity ever since.
“It was a barn fire,” Robert tells her, twitching at the words as they still bring him pain. He wants to tell her everything, spew out his entire life story and hers all at once, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm her, doesn’t want to ruin this before it really begins. It feels like at any moment she could just blink out of existence and he’ll wake up somewhere, drunk and maudlin about what he could have had. What else could this be but a dream?
She’s listening intently, hanging onto his every word. He’s a link to a past she thought lost forever. “I don’t remember,” she says, her frustration clear and then, “Sarah Sugden.” She’s said it a few times now, trying see how it feels.
“You must remember something,” he says. “Where did Vicky Roberts come from?” He’s trying desperately to get her to grasp onto something too. What kind of cruel twist of fate to give him his mum back but without any of her left?
“I had to choose a name for myself and those just seemed right somehow,” she tells him. “And you’re...Robert.” She says the name with a thoughtful look and a slight grin on her face, happy that she held onto something.
He smiles back at her, beaming at the knowledge that some part of him stayed with her. “You have a daughter, my sister. Her name is Victoria,” he explains further, his voice shaking with nerves.
“A daughter,” she smiles again, working over the concept in her head. There’s sadness there too, he thinks. Sadness that she can’t remember, sadness that she’s missed out perhaps. He feels the same.
“And...An-Andy,” he trips over his brother’s name, the two syllables stinging his tongue as he thinks about having to tell her it was Andy who started the fire. He can do that himself, Robert decides. Andy owes that to her, to him.
Chrissie sits down next to him and he realizes he’d almost forgotten she was even here. She takes his hand in hers and squeezes, trying to be a comfort to him but he just feels suffocated all of a sudden. Next to her, in this house. Since he’d been back they’d been things to show off but now he feels almost embarrassed, even if his mum didn’t remember. He wonders what she makes of him, if she’s happy that he’s her son. He was always a disappointment to Jack, but never to her. He hopes that holds true now, deep down.
—-
An hour later and he’s sitting beside her on the sofa, flipping through the faded, sticky pages of an old photo album, one she had put together once. It’s surreal sitting next to her, leaning over her shoulder and pointing out memories that she doesn’t have. Chrissie sits opposite them, trying get a look at the photos. He realizes he’s never even shown this to her. Trying to get ahead, it wasn’t the best idea to show off his more humble roots.
“That’s Ollie,” Robert points at the owl in his arms. “I helped nurse him back to health and then I got so attached I didn’t want to set him free again,” he laughs, remembering.
His mum smiles again but nothing connects.
“And that’s you holding Victoria just after she was born,” he says, running his finger over the plastic page and the photo underneath.
“It’s so strange,” she stares at the picture, “seeing yourself doing things you don’t remember doing with people you feel like you’ve never met.” She pauses and does what he did, running her hand over the page before looking over at him. “Sorry,” she tells him. “These are all your memories and I can’t share them the way you want me to.”
Robert wants to hug her, tell her to take her time. Even if none of it comes back, she’s still here and alive and he’ll take that right now. He restrains himself though, not sure what she would make of him lunging at her. “Don’t be sorry,” he rushes to say instead. “It’s alright.”
“It’s not,” she sighs in frustration. “All I’ve wanted for fourteen years is to fill this hole in my brain.” She flips to the next page and stops, staring at a photo of her and Jack. Pointing at him, she turns to him again.
“That’s Dad,” he says, feeling uncomfortable when he thinks about what happened between them, what led her to be in that barn in the first place.
She stares a moment longer, lines on her forehead deepening as she concentrates on the face of the man she married once. “Jack,” she pulls the name out of thin air and Robert gasps, never so happy to hear his father’s name.
“You-you remember?” he blurts out.
She seems surprised herself, sitting up, eyebrows raised. Her mouth opens again, forming the name silently. “I screamed it,” she says, sinking back into the sofa again, closing her eyes around a memory. “I can feel it, the heat closing in, strangling my voice but I screamed his name.” Her body shudders and she reaches up to kneed her forehead between two fingers.
Again he wants to hug her, wrap her up in his arms and protect her the way he couldn’t back then. He settles on the squeeze of her shoulder, just to let her know that someone is here for her. Her eyes flutter open, startled and he’s afraid he’s made a mistake but then she settles again and leans into his touch. He feels his heart swell in his chest.
“When I hired you, Robert, I did expect you to actually do some work,” Lawrence’s smug voice shatters the moment as he sweeps into the room, an intruder.
“Dad!” Chrissie scolds him and shoots Robert an apologetic look as she flies up off of the chair and leads Lawrence back out again.
A moment and a few whispered words later and he’s poking his head back in, wide eyed yet mistrustful. Robert’s only hated him more when he was faking that heart attack and interrupting his speech at the cemetery. It takes all his self control not to go off on him as he pops back out again.
“My soon to be father in law who hates me,” he says by way of explanation.
“Oh Robert, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” his mum tells him and he melts. She sounds so like how she used to and he wants to drown himself in that feeling.
She seems to feel it too, some connection between them and she looks bewildered by it. He can’t imagine how she must be feeling about all of this. An hour or so ago she was Vicky Roberts, a woman with a blank past and now she finds out she has all of this family she’d forgotten. Her fingers press into her forehead again, right between her eyes, making small circles there and he squeezes her shoulder again, the only thing he can think to do.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Bringing her hand back down to the page of the album, she shakes off whatever had come over her. “I’ll be fine,” she assures him, still staring at the photo. When she turns back to him she asks, “Jack...your dad, is-”
Robert swallows hard, doesn’t know if she remembers that they weren’t exactly together at the time. He doesn’t know how much this is going to hurt but he can’t lie to her. “He...died a few years ago,” he tells her.
“Oh,” she sighs, and there seems not to be sadness so much as frustration at a potential connection lost. “And Victoria and...uh...Andy?”
That doesn’t hurt as much to answer. “They’re both still in the village,” he says. “Vic works at the pub. She’s a chef. And Andy...he’s a farmer. Like Dad.”
She looks at him carefully, like she’s studying him. “You didn’t want to be a farmer.” It’s not a question.
His heart is in his throat. “You remember?” he nearly begs for the answer.
“It’s all so hazy,” she says, massaging her forehead again. “Like putting together a puzzle in the dark without all of the pieces. This, this is more than I’ve ever remembered before though. Being here, with you, seeing all of these pictures, it’s helping. I-I don’t-I don’t want the memories to stop.”
Robert smiles at her, his eyes tearing up. He never cries, not anymore, but having her here means more to him than anything else ever could. “I don’t either,” he agrees. “I can take you to the village, to the pub. Vic has a shift today. Maybe it’ll help.”
“I’d like that very much,” she says, her smile matching his along with the glistening tears in her eyes.
Chrissie appears in the doorway again, looking like a bit of a spare part and hating it. “Well that’s Dad sorted. Can I get anyone anything else?”
Robert stands, helping his mum up from the sofa and grabbing her coat from where it was laid over the back. “I was going to take her to the pub actually.”
“Oh right, of course,” Chrissie spits out quickly.
Reluctantly, Robert leaves his mum’s side and rounds the coffee table and the chairs and takes Chrissie’s arms in his. “You don’t mind do you? Only-”
“Of course I don’t mind,” she tells him. “Robert this is your mum. If I could have my mum back-”
“I know,” he whispers and kisses her cheek. “And thank you.”
His mum is by his side again, reaching out towards Chrissie, a hand on her arm above his own. “I’m so sorry. I came here with a job to do and I’ve-well we’ve gotten a bit side-tracked haven’t we?”
“Don’t be silly,” Chrissie assures her, a warm smile on her face. “This is more important.”
“And so is my son’s wedding,” she beams back and Robert feels his heart beat just a bit faster at hearing her call him her son. “We will reschedule. I promise.”
Chrissie nods, tears in her eyes as well as she takes in the moment, mother and son reunited, before shooing them towards the door. With a returned kiss on his cheek, she hands him his coat and wishes him luck.
—-
“I can’t believe it,” Vic just keeps saying over and over again, clutching her blue chef’s hat in tight, shaking hands. “I can’t actually- can I hug you?”
She doesn’t even let her answer before she’s flinging arms around their mum, burying her tear stained face into the folds of her jumper and scarf. For a moment Sarah freezes, unsure, but then something kicks in and she’s wrapping his little sister up in a warm embrace. Jealousy washes over him for a second before he pushes it down, feeling the acute absence of her arms around him. He wishes he had asked for a hug.
“Let her breathe Victoria,” Diane warns her off with a good natured laugh when the hug lasts a bit too long.
“Sorry, sorry,” she apologizes as she backs off, straightening Sarah’s scarf for her. “I just-“
“Can’t believe it?” Sarah finishes for her. “Neither can I. Certainly not what I expected when I took this job.”
“Job?” Vic asks. He didn’t really get a chance to explain the whole thing yet.
“She’s our new wedding planner,” Robert tells her. “If we haven’t scared her off.” He adds the last bit in, in some desperate need to gauge the situation all of a sudden.
“Oh that’s perfect, Rob!” Vic’s eyes light up. “Hey does that mean you’re actually going to give me the cake job then? Cause I’ve got ideas-“
“Vic!” He rolls his eyes. She’s been at him for a month now asking about it.
“I’d love to hear about them,” Sarah tells her, both in wedding planner and mum mode at the same time. “And of course you haven’t scared me off.”
There’s quiet voices behind them at the door that cease the moment they spot Sarah. Robert turns to see Andy there and the relaxed, warmth he’d been feeling immediately runs cold and his body stiffens. Katie’s on his arm, looking frosty. She still hasn’t forgiven him for the rings and ruining the wedding and normally when he’s reminded of it, he feels mostly smug about even if he wishes he hadn’t done it. Anything to wind her up. Now, he just feels ashamed, standing next to his mum. She’d probably have been furious along with the rest of them if she’d been here.
She could have been here, he thinks, looking at Andy. His brother might not have killed her in the end but he took her from him all the same. All the hatred he had for him back then comes bubbling back to the surface, all compressed and forced into a single withering stare. Andy has the decency to look guilty when he looks at Sarah but he hardly even bothers to glance his way, which only makes Robert all the more furious.
All these years, he could have had his mum. When Andy and Jack were united against him, he could have had her on his side. He might have done better in school, on his exams, if he’d had her there to encourage him, rather than just his dad’s disappointment hanging over him. He might not have ended up on that road near Wilson’s field, playing chicken and ready to kill his brother. He might never have been sent away, from his home, his family. So many what ifs swirl around in his head, making him dizzy.
“Hi,” he barely hears Andy say sheepishly even though he’s right in front of him.
“And you’re Andy,” she replies kindly but her expression looks a bit blank and it makes Robert a bit smug to know he has more of a connection with her than him.
“It’s so-I can’t believe-I-“ Andy stutters as he studies her. Robert sees the exact moment he notices the burn scars on her neck because his face goes white as a sheet and he blurts out an, “I’m so sorry.”
There’s tears in his eyes now and Robert’s too although his burn with hatred. Sarah looks taken aback by the display of emotion. She doesn’t have a clue and despite his anger, Robert doesn’t want to be the one to explain it to her. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to.
“I did it,” Andy blurts again, Katie hanging on his arm, trying to calm him down. The early pub goers are staring now, no one else is really there who knows the tale though.
“Did what?” Sarah asks, her face contorted in her confusion. The creases in her forehead deepen more as she tries to work out something she feels like she should remember. This isn’t one of those memories she should have though.
“I’m sorry,” Andy sobs and now Vic’s crying and Diane’s coming around the bar to comfort him and Robert just wants to roll his eyes. Andy’s trying to admit he almost burned his mum alive and they’re still falling all over themselves to be there for him. And what does he ever get? Nothing.
“Oh Andy,” Diane tries to soothe him.
Vic chimes in with an “Andy no.”
Robert doesn’t understand why his sister isn’t more upset with Andy for taking her mum away like he is. It only angers him more, his hands balled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms.
“I-I-I did it, I started the fire,” he finally gets out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-“
“You didn’t mean it?” Sarah’s tone is harsh and Robert feels vindicated for a moment.
“I didn’t know anyone was in there,” he tries to explain frantically. “It was-it was for the insurance. It was stupid, I know, but the farm was failing and I wanted to help Dad and-“
Sarah backs up against the bar, using it to support her weight as she sags against it. It’s too much for her, Robert can see that, trying to process it all. Andy takes a step forward, still sobbing out apology after apology but Robert puts himself between them, a stern look on his face, hoping Andy gets the message.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Andy sighs. “I’m so sorry. Please believe that.”
He pulls free of Vic’s and Diane’s and Katie’s grasps and hurries out of the pub amongst the whispers of the punters. Before she runs after him, Katie shoots him a dagger filled glare that promises him death if he makes this worse. He only shrugs at her. Let Andy feel bad for what he did. He should.
Turning back to his mum, he helps her up onto one of the bar stools and Chas who’s joined them, briefed on the situation by Diane, gets her a glass of water. She’s got her eyes closed again and he wonders if she’s reliving the fire. Abandoning some of his earlier restraint, he pulls her into a one armed embrace and she lays her head on his shoulder. He couldn’t save her back then, but he can be here for her now.
—-
“Here you are,” Marlon says brightly, as he sets out their food in front of them. He doesn’t go though, just stands there with his hands on his hips, staring. “I just, wow,” he gasps. “Oh! You probably don’t remember me!”
“No,” she replies politely, but again, Robert can see the frustration simmering underneath. “I take it I should.”
“Marlon,” he introduces himself, “Marlon Dingle. We used to work together once! Like mother like daughter I guess, but well-“
“Marlon,” Robert cuts off his rambling before he sits down and recounts their whole history. There’ll be time for that later if she wants.
“Oh, right, sorry. I’ll just let you get on,” the gangly chef apologizes and heads back to the kitchen.
Sarah hangs her head as he goes, looking a bit defeated, a bit angry at herself. Over her head, Robert shares a worried look with Vic, both of them out of their depth with this. Fingertips pinch at her forehead again, like if she massages it enough, all of her memories will come back to her. He wishes that were the case.
“I should remember,” Sarah chastises herself, staring blankly at her meal. Robert hates seeing her like this, empty. He wants to see the quick witted fire back in her he remembers from his youth. “And I should...I should go after...after-”
“Andy?” Vic provides the name for her with a gentle smile. “Katie’s with him. She’ll sort him.”
“Katie,” she says the name to herself like she’s trying to hold onto it.
“His wife,” Vic fills in the blank. “It just, it took him a long time to get over what he’d done. Seeing you, it’s just brought it all back up.” She pauses, eyes full of sympathy, letting Sarah process the information and Robert keeps his mouth shut, or tries to, managing to only let out a quiet grunt of derision for his brother. “It really was an accident though.”
An accident that changed everything, Robert curses Andy to himself as he pushes his food around his plate. He’s not hungry even though it’s lunchtime now. He should just be enjoying having his mum back but instead he can’t stop his mind from working on overdrive. There’s others in the pub now too, gawking at them. Zak and Lisa are there and Paddy and they’ve got matching bewildered looks on their faces, mouths hanging open and closing so as to not draw attention. Robert sees them though, sees another familiar face wander into the bar as well. He’d forgotten about Aaron, about their barn meeting, his useless phone still smashed up back at Home Farm. Catching his eye, Aaron fixes him with an irritated glare and one of his frowns, this one saying ‘I don’t care about you’. Robert feels his heart sink at that but even as it does, he can feel shame prickling up his spine as he sits next to his mum. He tries to focus on her, on the conversation she’s having with Vic beside him.
“-out of the barn?” he catches Vic saying.
“I’ve tried so hard to piece it together over the years,” Sarah tells her, “but I’ve blocked so much out. I barely even remembered the fire beyond the feeling of burning before today.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Victoria cringe at the words and an apologetic expression wash over his mum’s face. But with his divided attention, he’s still watching Aaron at the bar, greeting Zak and Lisa, having an awkward exchange with Paddy who gives him some kind of envelope. A card. His birthday, Robert remembers suddenly, remembers all the plans he had for Aaron that morning.
“Sorry love,” he hears Chas tell him, nodding in the direction of their table, “You’ve been a bit upstaged today,”
Aaron shrugs and follows her gaze and they lock eyes again briefly but he doesn’t linger on him long before moving onto Sarah. “Who is that then?”
“Sarah Sugden back from the dead apparently,” Chas says it so flippantly, barely scratching the surface on what a monumental moment this is for him. “I never knew her but it’s knocked Vic and Diane for six.” Robert doesn’t miss that she leaves him out.
Aaron doesn’t ignore him though, eyes flitting back to his, widening in disbelief and Robert can only nod to confirm it’s real. For a moment, he’s caught, transfixed in Aaron’s gaze, lost in the concern for him he sees there, and then suddenly he’s back to spiraling, the what ifs assaulting his brain again.
Beside him, Sarah notices a picture hanging on the wall. “Is that Jack?” he hears her ask.
Vic’s on hand with an answer, “Yes! You remember Dad?” Her excitement pours out of her but it does nothing to penetrate the constant barrage of thoughts swimming around in his head.
What if Andy had never lit that match? What if his mum had come home that night?
“Only bits and pieces,” Sarah tells Vic.
He hears Vic’s sigh of disappointment humming underneath more questions.
What if his mum and dad had worked things out? What if she had moved back in?
At the bar the Dingles are talking, Paddy stuttering through a story about Sarah to Chas, Chas mostly ignoring him and focusing on Aaron, asking him if he wants a birthday pint.
What if they had become a proper family again?
“-on the wall?” Sarah asks and he missed the first half. “Did he own this place?”
“Oh,” Vic goes quiet for a moment in time for another question as Aaron ignores Chas’s question about the pint to keep focusing on him.
What if his mum had been there that that summer? When Tom had been helping on the farm?
“He uh-” Vic pauses again and he can see her looking at him for help but he has none to offer.
“It’s alright Victoria,” Sarah tells her, gives her hand a squeeze, her other hand still massaging her forehead. “I want to know as much as possible. Good or bad.”
What if she had found him in his room-
“After,” Vic starts, “after you-well he married Diane.” He sees her point to the woman in question, serving another punter behind the bar. “She put his picture up after he...after he died. To honor his memory.”
-when he kissed- Aaron’s name flashes in his mind before he corrects himself - Tom?
“He was with her before,” he hears Sarah say. “Wasn’t he?”
“I don’t-” Vic stops, unsure of herself.
What if he had told her about Tom in the first place? That he liked him? What if-
“Are you okay?” Vic asks.
It’s too much, he thinks.
“It’s too much,” Sarah says his words out loud, making him swing his head back towards his mum, angry at himself for getting distracted.
She’s got her head in her hands, her face gone pale and she’s shaking ever so slightly.
“Mum!” he shouts over his own thoughts, his voice too loud. He startles her and she turns toward him looking rattled, panicked.
“Mum,” Vic echoes him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, being a damn sight more useful than him at the moment. “Let’s get you to the back room. You can have a lie down.” She gets her up and looks toward the bar. “Diane?”
“Of course, pet,” Diane tells her, moving Dingles out of the way so she can let them through easier.
Robert abandons their lunches, trailing after them in a daze still himself. It was all too much, the thoughts swirling around in his head, all the pieces of memories flooding back into hers. Maybe the pub hadn’t been such a good idea but she’d wanted to come. She’d wanted more, he tells himself to assuage the guilt. On his way through, he brushes by Aaron, exchanging another glance, Aaron’s eyes full of worry, not for his mum but for him. Their arms brush, shoulder to fingertips and he can’t help but wish it lasted longer before he’s following Vic and his mum and Diane into the back, watching his little sister pull it together to settle Sarah down on the sofa. Diane’s getting her a glass of water and he’s just standing there like a spare part. He should be doing something, offering to call her doctor, something practical. That’s how he usually operates but all he can do is stare, thinking.
After another moment, frozen, Aaron comes through, Chas on his heels, offering help if needed. Robert can’t help thinking that Aaron should be furious with him for missing their barn meeting, should be telling him he’s blown it, that he should pull his investment from their non existent business or something, but instead, he’s just standing there, wanting to help in any way he can. And Robert wants him to.
What if she had known that he liked-what if she’d been alright with it?
“I need some air,” he says suddenly, the words barely a whisper.
“Robert!” he hears Vic shout after him but he doesn’t stop, needs to get out of there for just a minute or two.
---
He’s found himself a spot on the picnic benches, head resting in his hands, body shivering because like an idiot, he’d gone out without a coat on. It doesn’t matter though; he can’t go back in yet. Not until he clears his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He has her here now and he should be in there helping her. Chrissie should be with him but he’d left her behind and Aaron-
The bench dips underneath his thighs as extra weight is added to it, a pair of black jeans appearing next to his blue ones. Reluctantly, he looks up to find Aaron watching him. His cheeks are flushed from the cold and his gelled hair is being blown free from its hold by the wind, but his eyes are kind and Robert knows he doesn’t deserve them.
“What was all that about then?” Aaron asks him. “They’re all worried.”
“Doubtful,” Robert defaults.
“Your mum is,” Aaron says softly and yeah, maybe just maybe that’s true. He’d forgotten what that was like. “Guess now I know why you stood me up.”
There’s that frown that’s not a frown again and it both settles something in him and flips it on its head all over again. “I didn’t-I meant-” he’s stuttering like Paddy now. “I was coming and then Chrissie-she wanted me to meet the wedding planner.”
“Wedding planner?”
“My mum was the wedding planner,” he explains.
Aaron laughs, covers it quickly, but laughs all the same and yeah, if he wasn’t all twisted up inside, it probably would be funny. He can’t laugh though so instead he watches the little puffs of breath from Aaron’s laugh dance in the cold air in front of his lips before they disappear.
“Wow,” Aaron sighs, shaking his head, before he turns more serious. “What ya doing out here then, eh? I know how much she means to you.”
He does know, Robert thinks. He’s the only one that listened to him when he was upset about Lawrence ruining his speech at her memorial and they barely even knew each other then. Aaron’s always ready to listen, just like now.
“I just-” Only he doesn’t know quite what to say. “Andy was here.”
“Oh?”
“You know what he did,” Robert says. “He told her. I didn’t think he’d have the balls but he told her.”
“Shit,” Aaron assesses the gravity of the situation succinctly.
“And all I could think was what if-” he stops himself. He can’t tell Aaron all of this. There has to be some shortened version, something he can say to make it all make sense. “I could be-if he-never mind.”
Flustered, he pushes himself up from the table and stalks off, hands tucked into his armpits for warmth, getting further and further away from where he should be. His mum is here, she’s here and she’s struggling and he’s running around the village like an idiot because-he can’t finish that thought.
---
Aaron finds him on the bridge, leaning over the railing, half wishing the river was deeper so he could just jump in and let it carry him away for a while. Quietly, gently, Aaron takes the place beside him, mirroring his pose, elbows up on the railing, a small gap between their bodies that Robert dares himself to close. He doesn’t and neither does Aaron. They just stand there in silence for a while, watching the cold water below.
Eventually, Aaron speaks. “I use to play a game with myself,” he says softly. “What if my mum had never left me as a kid? What if she had taken me with her when she went? What if I’d grown up surrounded by my mad family instead of isolated with my dad?”
The word ‘isolated’ strikes him as odd but Aaron rarely talks this much so he listens.
“Would my life have been different?” he continues. “Would it have been better? Would I have been better? Less of the screwed up mess that I am?”
“You’re not,” Robert can’t help himself but say.
Aaron huffs. “Yeah well you don’t know me that well, but you’ve seen-” he pauses, curls in on himself a bit, “my scars.”
Robert thinks back to that night in that - gay bar - what he’d said before he stormed out. He hadn’t regretted it enough then but he does now, seeing the way Aaron looks when he says the words. It was just, being in that place, it put him on edge. That wasn’t him, no matter what box Aaron wanted to put him in. That was one time Aaron wasn’t listening, not properly, not about Andy and the ring. He didn’t get it but maybe now-
“What if Andy hadn’t started that fire?” Robert says. “Maybe he didn’t kill her but I lost her all the same. What if I hadn’t? She always-she always understood me you know?”
“Suppose someone had to,” Aaron quips, knocking shoulders with him to lighten the seriousness of the mood. He’s grateful, despite being teased.
“My dad never did,” he admits. “Everything changed when I lost her. My relationship with Andy, Dad. I set out on this path trying to prove- what do you do when you feel like you could have been a whole different person with a whole different life if you’d just-”
“You accept the way things are,” Aaron tells him plainly. “I’ve got my mum back in my life now and we’re in a good place. You could have the same.”
“I’ve missed her,” he blurts out. “So much.”
“I know,” Aaron says, a hand patting his shoulder and pulling him towards him. “Come here.”
A hug. They haven’t done this before and it shows, Aaron’s arms awkwardly wrapping around him, one over his shoulder and one under his arm. They don’t fit at first. Aaron’s on his toes and Robert’s just standing there, too stunned to make an effort. And then, warm, Aaron’s warm and his fingers are clutching at the back of his jumper, bunching up the fabric and tugging him in and finally, Robert allows himself to let go. He buries his face into the folds of Aaron’s worn purple hoodie, hands stretching across his back and meeting in the middle as they press closer to one another. They’ve seen each other without clothes but this is the most naked he’s ever felt with him. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.
What if his mum had known back then he’d liked Tom? What if she’d known he’d liked boys as well as girls? What if she’d accepted him? What if this could be-no-no-Aaron told him to accept the way things are. He’s with Chrissie. He loves her. They’re getting married. His mum showed up as his wedding planner. She’s there at the pub, back in his life after all this time and he’s here, wasting his time on some fling, something that’s not even real. He can’t do this.
“I can’t,” he sputters, pushing Aaron away.
He tries to ignore it, but he can’t miss the hurt on Aaron’s face. It’s better this way though, to break it off now before either of them get in too deep. And yet-he lies to himself like he has before. He’s got Chrissie and that’s enough. It’s time to go.
“Sorry,” he manages at least before he’s taking off across the bridge and back towards the Woolpack.
“Robert!” Aaron’s call follows him for a time but he just pushes onward, trying not to listen.
#robron#fan fic#unfinished wip that someone should make me finish at some point cause i'm the worst at finishing things
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Okay, alright, cool, so-
I don’t even know how to go about explaining all of these relationships so I’m just gonna do my best to give an overview of some Highlights ™.
This got massive, so I had to split it into two graphs, but these two images are the potential relationship charts for Witch of the Greenwood.
There are two arrow colors - red and orange. Red symbolizes romantic relationships; orange symbolizes queerplatonic relationships (qpr).
This is more of a draft than anything at this point. There are some things I’m not sold on, others I might tweak, and maybe even some yet to be added. However! There are several that I am in love with and you’ll have to pry out of my cold, dead hands.
They include:
The entire top image, which includes:
Four (4) person polycule in the first image. The three people who are not you are dating and will date regardless of your existence. They are, however, open to adding a fourth into their dynamic.
Three (3) person queerplatonic / partially romantic triad. The two people who are not you will end up in a qpr regardless of your existence. One of them would be very happy to romantically smooch you on the mouth or not romantically smooch you on the mouth, and the other would like to do neither but would be delighted if you joined their qpp.
One strictly monogamous relationship - she’s got nothing against polyamory, but knows it isn’t for her. And hey, that’s okay! Maybe it’s not for you either.
One open relationship - he’s very open (hehe) to the idea of you dating other people as long as you afford him the same courtesy. No overlapping secondary partners with him though; he likes to keep his relationships separate!
One linear polycule where a literal ray of sunshine would love to be romantic with you - as long as you can respect his partner’s boundaries, which includes you Not Pursuing Them.
From the bottom image:
Three (3) person queerplatonic / partially romantic potential triad. Date one, develop a qpr with the other, or unite in holy platonic queerness as a qpr triad - the choice is yours :)
Fully romantic triad. That’s it, send tweet.
That leaves a few of the relationship dynamics (including a fully queerplatonic, no-romantic relationships present polycule) that I’m still playing around with. I definitely want to have an exclusively queerplatonic polycule, so you can expect that, I’m just not 100% sure yet what that’s gonna look like.
I know I’ve only listed “Elluna” and a bunch of ovally rectangles with pronouns, but I do already have characters behind (most) of those shapes. I’m just not planning on revealing them all yet because I’d like y’all to be able to discover who’s involved with who when you actually have a chance to play this.
Some of these characters absolutely will be revealed before the first iteration of the game is published though! Along with other characters who are not romanceable but will hopefully be enjoyable regardless :)
Is there a relationship dynamic not shown here that you’d really love to see in a “dating” sim (whether that “dating” is romantic or not)? Let me know! I won’t guarantee I’ll add it to the game, but I’d love to at least consider it!!
And hey, if you’d like to help me make this game faster so that you can get your grubby lil’ gremlin hands on it, consider supporting me on Patreon: here
‘Til next time!
#witch of the greenwood#wotg#wotg saturday update#i honestly don't know how tumblr tags work and at this point i'm too afraid to ask bUT#i'll tag wotg saturday update for all posts like these#anyway-#indie games#video games#dating sim#gardening sim#that one's not relevant today but it will be#witch game#life sim#witch#magic#potion#potion making#polyamory#qpp#qpr#queerplatonic#mmMMM#queer#lgbtqia+#oh I'll make a real post about this but#asexuals and aromantics and ace aros on their respective spectrums will exist in this#and i consider them to be lgbtqiA+#and that is that on that
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I’ve got several asks about BJYX supertopic’s recent battle for the top CP ranking. I’ve meant to answer them the way they’re asked, but the answer gets long. Dear Anons ~ please forgive me for splitting the answers into multiple posts!
As with everything I’ve said about CPs, they’re mostly my limited observations—unlike history and news, it’s impossible to find articles about any of this that pass journalistic standards. Therefore, please consider the following to be my personal impressions and ramblings, and as usual, everyone please feel free to point out mistakes and add your own thoughts!
Everyone probably knows already, but the new drama that has brought waves to the Weibo’s CP ranking list is Word of Honour (山河令, which I will abbreviate to WoH), and the CP pairing is known as Lang Lang Ding (浪浪釘, LLD). I haven’t watched this drama yet but as a Wuxia (and slash) fan, it is on my to-watch list. Nonetheless, I’ve been watching the developments surrounding the popularity of the drama and the CPs, and I think I can make the posts long enough just with these observations alone. (I’m incredibly long winded :D )
For the CP competition, I think it’s important to point this out: the LLD supertopic is a mixed character-CP and real-person-CP supertopic, unlike the YiZhan supertopics (BJYX, ZSWW, LSFY) that are real-person-CP only. This means comparing LLD and the YiZhan supertopics is really … comparing apples and oranges, especially when WoH is still airing (and therefore providing fresh candies for the character CP with every new episode). I therefore wish this kind of popularity competition doesn’t take root in the international fandom; it’s … a bit silly to me, really. It makes little sense.
That said, however, I understand why c-turtles are fighting so hard for the #1 CP spot. C-ent (as is true with many other aspects in the country), numbers and ranking are everything. That 20(?), 40(?) minutes during which BJYX supertopic fell to #2 the first time already made “news” headlines that claimed that WoH had surpassed The Untamed (TU)—an even stranger comparison, if one thinks about it. BJYX, technically speaking, doesn’t have anything to do with TU. It’s a GG/DD real person CP.
But it doesn’t matter—numbers are numbers, and they talk to c-ent watchers, the commercial interests looking for their most promising future investments. The perceived power of c-turtles hinges on them and by power, I mean both fan power and spending power, which are almost synonymous terms in c-ent. Many of you have probably seen those charts that rank the popularity of c-ent entertainers by how much goods, in monetary value, they’re able to sell. How much do the c-turtles contribute to these monetary values? Are they, as a collection of fans, worth keeping, worth wooing?
The notion that only the fan’s spending power means something may cause unease in many i-turtles—and it is, indeed, a very cold-hearted assessment, as it implies that fans are little more than living wallets to be emptied. My observations have been that such a notion doesn’t bother c-turtles for the most part and, IMHO, they’re being realistic for their sociopolitical environment. They also respond to this notion accordingly—while it is difficult to tease out the exact percentage of turtles among Gg and Dd’s active fans (fans that make major purchases goods and merchandises), c-turtles have previously demonstrated their ability to contribute a substantial fraction (in the 10s of percent) of money spent on Gg and Dd. As these splits are only very occasionally visible to the public, the CP ranking likely serves as a constant reminder of c-turtles enormous fan/spending power — without which, Gg and Dd’s popularity will also take a hit.
In that sense, c-turtles are fighting for their right-to-exist. Remember when I talked about the “traditional” thinking that CPFs < solos, and that one CPF = one (loyal) solo lost? This means c-turtles must be able to demonstrate their ability to offer something that the solos cannot, and more importantly, that their offer will not come in any other name. If c-turtles proved last year that they wouldn’t change their name to solos, then this year they’re set to prove they’ll not change their name to LLDs or other CPFs.
If the latter sounds a bit like a battlecry, it may be exactly that. Ever since the announcements of the long line of upcoming Dangai’s, ample inflammatory posts have been made on the platform to get c-turtles to “defect” to the new dramas, or predict that as soon as another pair of random, beautiful men start to throw candies on screen, c-turtles will promptly forget about Gg and Dd and join the fun. The latter, especially, can be quite insulting to read, as one can imagine. However, with c-turtles being a loosely connected group of millions, despite their apparent firm stance that they shall stay turtle, their underlying nerves that these “insults” may turn out to be true can also be felt — the worry that c-turtledom will haemorrhage when the next popular Dangai with enticing M/M CPs (character or real person) come along.
WoH, as the first drama that fits the criteria, is therefore a test— a test that many c-turtles likely view they must pass with flying colours to prove their point, to stand with their heads held high among those who do not care about BJYXSZD (not necessarily solos—many solos, BTW, have actually helped the turtles out this time); to show that turtles are not only every bit as loyal as other Gg and Dd fans, they’re not so … cheap as to take any random “industrial saccharine” (工業糖精; referring to ZQSG-free candies created solely to lure in fans) and walk away.
The reform of the BJYX supertopic (which now allows candy analysis and explains the sudden appearance of many old candies), the flood of BTS videos from almost every Zhan Jie previously involved with the YiZhan CPs, the temporary retaking of the top 3 CP spots by BJYX+ZSWW+LSFY ... can therefore be viewed as a rally of c-turtles. The message is: we’re not going anywhere. We’ve got enough candies that no other (M/M) CPs can hope to match in quantity, in quality.
(And the parade is indeed impressive.)
(The reform also didn’t come out of thin air; there have been discussions about the supertopic’s candy sharing rules before.)
Some c-turtles have rightfully been concerned about how such a parade of candies can affect Gg and Dd. They point out that some candies should still remain 閱後即焚 (“burn after reading”, instant return to hiding after release like certain BTS videos); that at some point, c-turtles have to let go of their obsession of staying on top of the CP rankings. TU is already almost 2 years old, and being a little lower on the CP ranking list will take the heat off the YiZhan fandoms in the long run, incite less outside forces trying to fan the flames between the shrimps and the motors and the turtles.
The rules and guidelines of c-turtledom therefore remain a work in progress, and c-turtles, the millions of them, are still learning as they go.
Personally, I have faith in what will come. I also haven’t been too concerned about the candy parade, because most information is already out there for those who’re determined to find them — on Bilibili, Douyin, Zhihu etc. I spent some time talking about the Gg Assistant fic not with the goal of eliciting pain or panic, but rather, as a demonstration of why it has been the tradition of CPFs—not only the turtles—to play things very cautiously, with 閱後即焚 and 圈地自萌 (“to play within the circle”; ie, keep all information and candies within CPFs) being the default rules even after removing the “queer factor” from the discussion. Real person CPs have fate as one of their writers and so, unlike character CPs, their candies can have unintended, unpredictable consequences. As the YiZhan fandoms have now grown big enough that their candies can no longer be realistically well-contained, it may not be such a bad idea for especially the sensitive candies to return under the “jurisdiction” of the BJYX supertopic, so to speak. c-turtles can then gain better control of their comes-and-goes. Their narratives.
(CPN below.)
About narratives. @rainbowsky have previously written a thoughtful piece on the possible reasons the YiZhan fandoms have been allowed to thrive, and I’d like to add the following hypothesis—it may be a way to take pre-emptive control of the Gg/Dd narrative in preparation for the scenario where their relationship is exposed without their consent. Some i-turtles, I think, may have already gained a sense of how ruthless, cruel and above all, quick the c-ent rumour mill can be. If Gg and Dd get outed by a third party, chances are they won’t have time at all to create a fresh narrative, and the one that come out of the rumour mill will likely be … very ugly, containing every worst misconception people have against homosexual relationships. Whereas now, c-turtles already have a narrative at hand—the canon-fanon that, while c-turtles may not agree on every detail, is largely agreed upon on the important milestones. The supporting materials are also ready: the videos, the images, the voice and arrow guides on them.
For me, another interesting question is whether this c-turtle rally and parade of candies are truly necessary in the end.
I’m curious about what will happen to the LLD supertopic when WoH completes its airing. There’s really no precedence for this kind of a mixed character + real person M/M CP supertopic setup — the history of Dangai is short, of popular Dangai’s, even shorter.
Guardian (鎮魂), the first successful Dangai aired exactly a year before TU (in the summer of 2018), never had a dedicated CP supertopic (please holler if I got this wrong! I know there’re Guardian fans here ~ hello! *waves*). Discussions of Guardian’s CPs were found within the drama’s supertopic (剧版镇魂); the real-person-CP also never had its own name; its discussions were hidden under the character CP (巍瀾) tag.
Then came TU. Its real person CP (BJYX) split away from its character CP (WangXian) long before the airing for the drama—the birthdate of the BJYX supertopic was 2018/04/28 (TU’s airing date: 2019/06/27).
After TU, two Dangai dramas have already aired before WoH that seemed to have largely passed the attention of i-fandom: The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty (成化十四年) and Winter Begonia (鬢邊不是海棠紅). Winter Begonia, in particular, was well received. Their character CPs never really took off, however, being conceived and perceived as more brotherhood than romance. Age also played a factor for Winter Begonia—Yun Zheng (尹正), known to many turtles as Dd’s motorcycle buddy, is 34, and Huang Xiaoming (黃曉明) is 43. The associated real person CPs also never became popular as a result; Huang Xiaoming’s famous marriage to a beautiful actress also meant that a real person CP was likely to be off the table for Winter Begonia from the start.
The best reference I can think of then, when it comes to speculating the fate of LLD, is therefore the fates of the CP supertopics of 2020’s summer hit, Love and Redemption (琉璃). I’ve talked about its character CP before; essentially, just days after the drama was done airing, the (het) character CP (初遇夫婦) was broken up and in a manner largely criticised as unnecessarily cruel to CP fans. Its supertopic closed immediately afterwards. The supertopic for the real-person-CP (冰橙汁) got to live, however, and is still active today.
The commercial forces behind WoH will likely break the character CP as soon as the drama is done airing; popular het and non-het character CPs in the recent years have gone through similar fates. What does this mean to LLD then? Does it mean the supertopic will be shutdown, since the drama itself already has its own supertopic? But what will happen then to its real-person CP, which has been incorporated within the LLD supertopic? Will the real-person CP be broken at the same time as the character CP to allow for immediate “purification” of real person CP fans into solo fans, to avoid future “headaches” like BYYX—a bound between the actors that cannot be severed—or 227 that, in the eyes of many passerbys, remains an issue of solo vs cpfs?
Only time will tell, and I very sincerely hope it’ll get a happy ending. Fans are made to love, and it saddens me every time to see them being severed from their loves, or pitted against each other especially when it’s clear it’s the social media platforms, the commercial interests behind the scenes — not just the production/media companies but the YXHs, the water armies — who will reap the benefits in the end. Personally, I feel no joy in seeing anyone’s favourites getting torn down, even if they aren’t my own. Gg and Dd’s safety — and the safety of every upstanding, hardworking c-ent entertainer like them — doesn’t hinge so much on their CP or solo or drama ranking, but whether their fans can refrain from bringing their conflicts into the public eye, from “occupying social resources”—ie, deflecting the public’s attention from the “core socialist values” the government intends it to focus on.
Fandom is big enough for us all.
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Venus & Mars: Air signs
In contrast to the Water element’s propensity toward silence, the Air element placements of Venus and Mars are inclined toward talk—verbal communication and verbal expressions of curiosity, feeling, interest, and desire. They can be rather loud! And, as mentioned earlier, Venus and Mars in Air aren’t particularly sensual, which is to say they do not need to feel physically close to another person in the same way that those with Water and Earth emphasis do. However, if the person has an Earth Sun sign, for example, this alone can add a firm tone of sensuality and physicality to the personality, even if Venus and Mars are both in Air. So, I think we must always consider the entire chart in any evaluation. Therefore, an in-person dialogue is so much better than any kind of written or computerized “chart interpretation”; it’s far easier to blend all the factors in person, especially with the help of feedback, to achieve an accurate and realistic impression of the person.
Mars in the Air element does not show a strong sexual energy, although they may get the prize for flirtatious remarks! Sex for those with Mars in Air is tied in with communication and also with fun, mental stimulation, and strong mental images. This is the person who may go out with someone and actually enjoy the entire evening, even though there is no emotional or physical sharing of an intense sort, so long as the conversation and communication are interesting. This approach will confuse those with a more erotic and physical orientation—it messes with their imagination that anyone can be so satisfied with talk alone.
Those with an Air emphasis are stimulated by mental connections and images. They have a very personal orientation. Libra is the most personal of all the signs, hopelessly personal in fact. As Dane Rudhyar wrote in The Pulse of Life, Libra takes all social and personal activities with the utmost seriousness; and that often makes life difficult for them because they assume that everyone else is as sincere as they are! Gemini is probably the second most personal sign, although they have an impersonal streak that surprises those who are entertained and stimulated by their charm. And Aquarius is the least personal of the Air signs. Aquarius can be personal, but only for certain periods of time. Their impersonality will eventually surface, so you have to get used to being periodically ignored… which may not be hard for you if you also have some Aquarius (or Aries) in your chart.
In fact, if you’ve ever been with by someone with Venus or Mars in Aquarius, you know what I mean by the impersonal quality. (I also find this in those who have a strong Uranus in their chart.) With Aquarius, at a certain point as a relationship with them is being ended, you may suddenly realize they were never relating to you personally. You were just a category of person who they needed to fill a particular slot in the Aquarian’s mental model. So, Aquarius can act very personal, and they can be personal in their own way, authentically; but when the impersonality comes through, it’s almost frighteningly detached.
I had many long convos with Aquarius Venus women who immediately say, “I have a big problem with relationships. None of the people I know understand me. I’m completely frustrated. I need them, but I also don’t!” These women were so independent that it was obvious to their partners they didn’t need them as much as the partners would have liked them to. And yet, they enjoy these partner’s intelligence and they enjoy flirting and socializing; they are quite fun. But their independence and detachment are very disconcerting for most partners, especially possessive or traditional types of men. These women felt traditional female social roles to be far too restrictive in all aspects of intimate relationship (and they’re right!)
Another comment about Mars in Air signs: with Mars in Air, the mind rules the sexuality and sexual energy. Everything first goes through their heads, then their p*ssy. A particular relationship, its form, must appeal to them to get them motivated. In fact, they will often reject feelings if the intellect cannot easily categorize what is happening. Even if the feelings are pleasant, the person might repress or reject them unless the mind can somehow process the feelings into familiar categories. This is a good example of the rarely acknowledged conservatism of the Air signs. It shows one reason the Earth and the Air signs have the same ancient ruling planets (Venus, Mercury, and Saturn). Both groups of signs have a tendency to become fixated on lists, categories, or rigidity of one sort or another. So an old Libra often resembles a Taurus, why an old Aquarius often seems similar to a rigid Capricorn, and why an aging Gemini often gets as irritable as a Virgo.
Venus in Air notes: Affection and appreciation are expressed through intense intellectual communication and a sense of companionship. The person feels love and closeness with another through verbal sharing, a meeting of minds, and mutual pleasant socializing.
Mars in Air notes: The individual asserts self through expression of ideas, active communication, and energetic imagination. The personal method of operation relies on persuasion and an appeal to reason or being personally likable. Physical energy is stimulated by mental challenges, social activism, relationships, and new ideas.
#astrology#venus signs#mars signs#venus#mars#gemini mars#libra mars#aquarius mars#mars in gemini#mars in libra#mars in aquarius#gemini venus#libra venus#aquarius venus#venus in gemini#venus in libra#venus in aquarius
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ghostin'
chapter fifteen
(table of contents)
(chapter fourteen)
june 26, 1976
"We're here today with Miss Ellie Saunders, singer and writer of the newest song going up in the pop charts, Songbird! Would you like to say hello to our audience, Ellie?"
"Hi, everyone! Thank you so much, Bill for having me on."
"Pleasure's all mine. Last time we had you in the studio was...two years ago with your single, Dreamer, isn't that right?"
"Very much so! Since then lots of things have changed." Ellie chuckled, reflecting on the past for a split second.
"Yeah, you were just a wide-eyed kid who had no idea what the business was like or where you were going. Nice to see you settled down. Now, you're with Led Zeppelin's guitarist, Jimmy Page, right? How's that working out with their constant touring?"
Ellie visibly tensed. If they were there to talk about Jimmy, they should have just called him on instead, but alas she was polite and answered the question. "Yes, Jimmy and I are together," she chuckled nervously, "Well, we manage our time pretty well. He's currently away doing his stuff and I'm working on my new album, but we find time to get a phone call in before bed...middle of the night," she laughed, "we find a way."
"Adorable, you two are. So this album of yours? Got a title yet? And what kind of songs are we going to see on it?"
"Not yet," Ellie answered, but quickly saved herself, "we have a working one, but even that's under wraps for now. As for songs, they're mostly just your regular old love songs I guess. The experimental piece was actually one I plan to release soon. I really hope my fans enjoy it. It took a lot to write it."
"And the title?"
Ellie looked over to Carolyn, who sat across the room puffing on a cigarette. The brunette nodded at the blonde, allowing her to speak on the song, "Well the song is called Sign of the Times. It's about seeing a change in someone you love and having to accept it. It could be with a wife, husband, lover, friend; anyone you hold dear who you just...can't help but worry about." She explained, getting lost in her own words as she thought about Jimmy. "As you can see I'm still a bit raw about it," Ellie lightly rubbed at her watering eyes.
"Do you miss your person?" Bill asked, suddenly becoming quite sincere.
Ellie met his gaze, nodding, "I do." she said, thinking of what lie to tell people to convince them she wasn't talking about her lanky, dark-haired boyfriend.
"Well, now onto what you're here for. Tell me about Songbird, then."
"Um, well...there was a slight bit of a rough patch lately that affected me a bit. I decided to get my trusty notebook out and spew out all the words that would come. And Songbird came out of that."
"Some beautiful acoustic on there, who did it?"
"I did! Jimmy's not the only one who's well-spoken in the ways of a guitar in this relationship. Although I did want him to come play on it for me, our schedules just didn't line up." She shrugged.
"Incredible. Well, here it is, folks. The new song by Ellie Saunders: Songbird." Bill said, fiddling with some buttons and getting his turntable ready before removing his headphones, "you can take those off now." he said.
Ellie removed the bulky headphones from her hair and held them idly in her lap as her song played out to the broader Los Angeles area. She knew it wasn't the first time a station had played the song in the week or so that it'd been out, but it was different knowing that she was right there while it was playing out to thousands of people. It was daunting if anything.
"Ellie that was great. Thank you so much for coming on!" Bill said, standing to shake Ellie's hand. The singer mirrored his actions and went in for a handshake, returning the favor.
"Thank you for asking me to come on. It was a pleasure. Maybe I'll come back when Sign of the Times comes out." She said with a wink.
"Of course," Bill replied, "tell me. In confidence; off the record. Is there a title for the new record?"
Ellie contemplated her honest answer, then exhaled through her nose in a laugh before answering, "No, actually. I have no idea what it's called. I've been so focused on writing songs that...I just haven't had time to think of a title, honestly." Ellie laughed as she spewed the honest truth.
Bill laughed out loud at the comment, giving Ellie a pat on the back, "Seriously, Ellie, come back any time. New song, new album, or if you just wanna chat with me for the morning segment. It would be great."
"Thank you so much, Bill." She repeated as she started picking up her bags. Carolyn put out her cigarette in an ashtray near the microphones and gave Bill a firm handshake. The women left the building shortly after.
After they'd been settled in the car to take them back to the studio, they finally got a chance to take a breather and relax. Things had been moving at a touch and go pace since finishing the two bigger singles. The rest of the songs still needed more, Ellie thought. It often occupied her mind just what she wanted to add to each song. That and Jimmy.
Not only was she concerned about him, she found herself getting increasingly more discouraged when she spoke with him. Like she was walking on eggshells when it came to a conversation with him. If either of them said the wrong thing, the other would get set off. Ellie found herself as more of the latter. She hated arguing while they were away from each other, but she couldn't help comment about his activities. He knew her disdain of it and it seemed there wasn't much else to talk they had to talk about since their days were full of nothingness lately.
☆
Andrew came over late that night. One more song on the album had been finalized and he deemed it enough to celebrate. Five of twelve songs completed, in case anyone was counting.
"Cheers to another amazing song by my best friend." Andrew said, raising a glass of some old whiskey Ellie had had hidden in her house since she'd moved in. The blonde could hardly remember who had given it to her. It seemed it just was a part of the house at that point.
They clinked glasses and each took a sip, both inevitably coughing and gagging at the taste and giggling at their reactions. Their conversation carried on until Ellie's eyes wandered to her stack of mail. Since getting home she hadn't had much time to give it a look so she gave each letter a once-over before focusing on Andrew again. That was the plan, at least.
However, a postcard caught her eye and she couldn't help but pick it up.
'Sunset Strip, Hollywood, California' Read the front as it was decorated with a photo of the infamous Sunset Strip at night. Ellie flipped over the postcard, her eyes quickly darting past the words that had been scrawled onto the paper.
'I recall you saying something about the Sunset Strip calling your name when we went out for dinner. How about we go out again sometime soon? You can be a Dreamer about life again. Call me when you get this. 213-xxx-xxxx
Hugs, Roger
P.S. Did you get the reference of your song that I used?
P.P.S. Ask for Simon Ferocious'
The blonde furrowed her eyebrows, but was delighted at the prospect that Roger would send her a postcard. She reached for the phone, starting to dial the numbers.
"What's up?" Andrew asked, taking another sip of the blasted whiskey, to which he exhaled sharply only seconds later. He set the cup down in disgust.
"It's Roger. He's in California. Told me to call him." Ellie replied, handing the man the postcard as his hands reached out for it. The line rang while Andrew exhaled through his nose, laughing at the corny jokes made in the letter.
"Ritz Los Angeles, my name is Angela. How can I be of service to you this evening?" The woman on the other line said. Ellie was taken aback slightly at the discovery of the Ritz's hotel having been the main point of contact for Roger.
"Uh, hi. I'm calling for a Simon Ferocious staying at your hotel." Ellie said, trying to hold back her laughter.
"And who's asking?" She asked.
"Say it's Mrs. Page. He'll know who it is."
"I'll put you through."
"Thank you."
Silence came through the phone before the Hold music shortly began. An ear-raping jazz number made Ellie put the phone down as soon as the music started.
"Simon Ferocious?" Andrew asked, having come back into the living room with a near-empty bottle of blush wine Ellie had been keeping in the fridge along with two flutes. She shrugged as he poured the rest out for the both of them as the infernal jazz finally came to an end.
"Mr. Ferocious for you, ma'am." The woman said.
"Thank you," Ellie paused waiting for the clicks before Roger's familiar rasp came through.
"Mrs. Page, hm?" Roger asked.
"I heard we weren't giving out our real names." Ellie laughed, twirling the phone cord around her finger. Her eyes followed Andrew as he walked over to her record collection beside the turntable.
"Well, I had good reason. I'm staying on the down low."
"Is that it? Who's Simon Ferocious, then?" she asked as the sounds of a song she couldn't quite place by Led Zeppelin came flooding through the speakers. The song was from a special release pressing Jimmy had gifted her when Physical Graffiti was released the previous year. Close friends and family received them. Ellie had been honored to say the least.
Roger chuckled, "A guy looking to take you out to a show. Someone there with you?"
"Just Andrew. He's my best friend—"
"And I'm gay!" Andrew shouted across the room.
"Nothing to worry about." Ellie smiled, and though Roger couldn't see it, he could sense it.
"Right. Simon Ferocious is something Fred called Sid Vicious because he was bothering him one day in the studio," Roger laughed, "Ask him about it one day, he'll get so cross about it."
"I think I might. Feel like you're not doing the story justice." Ellie chuckled. "So is Mr. Ferocious going to take me out to a show?" She asked as Andrew returned to his seat on the floor across from the singer, munching on a cracker that was sitting on a plate.
"I was hoping to today, actually. Then I heard you on the radio this morning and thought you might be busy."
Ellie apologized for the delay, "I got your postcard yesterday, I just didn't bother to look at my mail because it was all mixed with bills and other junk that it got lost. I'd ditch Andrew for you any night."
"Bitch!" The aforementioned man exclaimed, slapping Ellie on the shoulder with a push. A bubbly, hearty laugh left her throat as she fell back onto the floor.
Catching her breath, she confessed, "We're getting a little tipsy." she giggled. "How much longer are you in LA? I'll make it up to you."
"I leave on the 5th of July. I have to be back in London so we can start the new album."
"Well let's go to a Fourth of July celebration! I think my record label's throwing one. They're usually on top of some pretty rooftops. It'll make for a great view."
"It's a date then. Keep me posted on this...roof party."
"Didn't I give you my phone number, Rog?"
"..."
"Hm?"
"I dropped the slip of paper in a puddle on the day I got here. God's honest truth, El. Which is why I sent you a postcard."
"I'll entertain that story for a while...." she joked, "I can give it to you again, if you'd like."
"Yes please." Roger said sheepishly; a shuffling audible in the background.
"626...."
---
masterlist | playlist
Taglist: @diaryofafan17 @tophats-n-lespauls @witchesdust @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @princesspagey @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx if you want to be added to the list lmk!
#I really liked this chappie I hope you guys like it too!#jimmy page#fanfic#fanfiction#ghostin'#big things are coming....*maniacally rubs hands together*
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