#it's bad for everyone and it's even worse for people who have issues to begin with. wanting to kms the second i wake up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andivmg · 3 months

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speak up andi, I beg of you, you have been mistreated the most here, I know it took shubble a lot of courage but she has helped so many people

i want to start this off by saying it is not a competition and i do not want to compare my experience to anybody else’s. shubble is so fucking strong and i admire her and everyone else who has spoken up about experiencing abuse endlessly.

DISCLAIMER 1

this is way longer than i intended it to be. i did not plan to go into as much depth as i did but the words just kinda kept coming and i kept thinking that if someone else is in a similar situation to the one i was in, it would be good to point out even some of the smaller details so that they can see that these behaviors are not something to be overlooked and could be a symptom of a bigger issue… idk. i apologize for how lengthy and wordy this is but i hope it all makes sense somehow

DISCLAIMER 2

a lot of you know who one of my exes is and i am asking you to please not make this about him. i am simply sharing my experience with some of my past relationships in hopes that they help someone else. i beg of you, do not go on twitter making threads speculating on whatever because it’s just going to cause me a bunch of problems and i don’t want this to be brought to his attention. if you share my story, please do not do it with the intent of starting drama. if you share my story, focus on the behaviors i am talking about instead of trying to figure out if it’s about him.

DISCLAIMER 3

this goes without saying but i’ll put it here anyway: i will be talking about toxic relationships, mention of self harm, mention of sex, implied violence. if any of these topics are triggering to you please scroll away, protect yourself.

I have been in a lot of relationships, but there are 4 that i would truly identify as the ones who had the biggest impact on me. Two of those i would consider emotional mistreatment. I don’t want to say i was abused for reasons that i will be discussing with my therapist this week, but i can certainly say i was mistreated. For the sake of privacy, i will be referring to these two dudes as 1 and 6.

I think the biggest difference between 1 and 6 is that 6 was obsessed with me to the point where i felt like i was being suffocated, whereas i’m not sure if 1 ever cared about me in the first place.

6 and i started out pretty normally. we had a bunch of friends in common and we were around the same people. so eventually, we became friends too. we would text and call all the time until feelings developed into a relationship. in the beginning he was really sweet and caring, saying all the right things that got me falling head over heels. now, something important to note is that i am someone who has always had a lot of guy friends. when i was little and in school, my mom made friends with a bunch of other moms and those moms were boy moms, so i grew up surrounded by boys. i bring this up because 6 didn’t like my guy friends. actually, i think he just didn’t like the fact that i had guy friends at all. so, whenever i would hang out with my friends, it was a problem. so this resulted in me never being able to go out or hang out with my friends unless he was there. then it got worse. before we started dating he had decided to cut back on drinking and to stop smoking. so because of this, i decided that i wouldn’t drink or smoke around him in solidarity. this was not enough for him. i had to stop drinking and smoking altogether. so once, when i was hanging out with my girl friends we decided to stay in and get wine drunk. we posted about it on our private stories on snap and once he saw, 6 called me arguing and yelling at me because i was drinking and posting about it on my story for “attention”. after this incident, i was no longer allowed to hang out with my friends because they were a “bad influence”. he also didn’t like the clothes i wore. sorry, let me reiterate: he didn’t like my clothes when he wasn’t around. it was perfectly fine for me to wear a short dress… if i was with him. i was not allowed to wear “revealing” clothing if he wasn’t around. mind you, none of the clothes i wore were revealing, it’s not my fault i’m hot yk? he took over my life. who i talked to, what i did, what i wore, where i would go, it was all up to him. my life no longer belonged to me. and at the time, i was okay with that. i didn’t realize that he had so much control over everything. i was young and naïve and he convinced me that he knew what was best for me. that he had lived more than i had and experienced more than i had and that he knew better. he was so good at making everything my fault and making him the hero or victim depending on the situation. i got catcalled on the street? “because you were wearing that fucking dress again, andrea you know how that looks. of course you got catcalled. this is why you can’t wear things like that when i’m not around to protect you”. I decided to have a fun night in with my friends and get drunk? “i just don’t understand why you would be posting yourself on your private story like that. you’re drunk and vulnerable. why do you want other people, other guys, to see you like that? and you know i’ve cut back on drinking so how do you think it makes me feel to see that? don’t you love me enough to do this for me?” the worst part is i believed him. because, in the beginning, he helped me so much and i looked up to him so much, surely he had my best interests at heart, right? this relationship went on for way longer than it should have. you may be asking yourself, how did you leave? if you were so in love with him and entranced by him to the point where he consumed you, why did you leave? he raised his hand. that’s what got me to finally leave. a year after we broke up, i found out that he was drinking, smoking, and doing all kinds of shit he told me he wasn’t throughout our entire relationship. he was awful, and i’m really proud of myself for being strong enough to leave when i did. i’m also really grateful for my friends, who stuck out that whole train wreck with me. who i lashed out against in order to protect him and defend him. they stuck by me through it all and i don’t know where i would be without them so shoutout to them lmfao.

1 was a bit more complicated. it started out in a similar way. we had the same friends, hung out around the same people, so it was only a matter of time until we became friends too. we would call and text every day until feelings were developed. at least i developed feelings, i’m still not sure he did. i told him this and i don’t remember how the conversation went but basically we had decided that we were talking as more than friends now. enough time went by where i was ready for it to become a relationship and i communicated that to him. looking back, i think he felt pressured into the relationship by me and by our friends. anyway we started dating and everything was fine. we would hang out and talk all the time but i felt like he was bored or disinterested by me, so i would constantly beg for his attention. i became this needy clingy version of myself that i hated. it felt like when we would hang out, he was always distracted by something else. i basically felt invisible to him. that is, when i wasn’t hanging out with my guy friends. similarly to 6, 1 did not like my guy friends or the fact that i had guy friends in the first place. i had a guy best friend at the time who is one of the most amazing people i have ever met. let’s call him S. S and 1 were acquainted with each other, hung out in the same circles etc. but 1 still didn’t like him. sometimes, whenever 1 was busy doing whatever he did when he wasn’t with me, i would hang out with S, we would watch shows together and just talk. Some days, it felt like i talked to S more than my own boyfriend. this did not sit well with 1. he would ask “why the fuck are you always hanging out with him?” to which i would reply “maybe if you hung out with me more, i wouldn’t have so much free time to spend with him” (toxic ik but what can i say? i was feeling neglected). so you can see what problems this caused. eventually i cut S off. I stopped talking to him completely and i haven’t spoken to him since. Back to 1. even after cutting off my best friend, nothing really changed. He didn’t spend much time with me and whenever we would, i felt like he couldn’t wait to go off and do something else. this got exhausting. at that point i was begging him to love me, to pay attention to me, to care about me. this led to us breaking up. he broke up with me over text. it read, and i quote, “i think we aren’t meant for each other. i think you deserve someone that will treat you better than i do. I don’t think i’m in love with you and i tried to force myself to love you because i thought that’s what i wanted but i really don’t think it is. we started this relationship when i was just tired of being alone and i really just don’t think it is right anymore. i don’t think i am attracted to you. I am sorry, i really didn’t know how to end this and this probably isn’t the best way to do it but it’s time”. The relationship went on for another six months after this. granted, i should have had more self respect and never gotten back together with him but it is what it is. so after he told me that he didn’t love me and that he wasn’t attracted to me, we stayed “friends”. which basically meant that we did everything that a relationship involved. without actually being in a relationship. that is, until one of his friends hit me up. there was some flirtation going on but nothing serious. i was still in love with 1 but, at the time, i was in desperate need for attention and his buddy was there to provide it. when i told 1 about it he flipped out, called me all kinds of crazy and decided he was done with me. his friend and i talked about it and poked fun at the fact that he broke up with me but got mad at someone else paying attention to me. when 1 saw this (he ended up forcing me to show him the screenshots of the conversation) he was even more pissed and even more done with me. the next day he called me and we were basically back together again.

however, this time, i was meant to earn his affection. because i did something so unforgivable and atrocious, he was basically in the clear to treat me like shit. and he did. he would cancel plans to go hang out with his friends. he would only come over late at night, even when i had class the next day. i was basically at his mercy. we only hung out when he decided. we only spoke when he wanted to. i honestly can’t even recall us going on any date after that incident, save for one dinner. in short, i was not a priority to him. this, combined with some other stuff, really took at toll on my mental health. i entered a deep depression and began self-harming after being clean for 3 years. i sought out help and found a wonderful therapist who really helped me. but, 1 only saw this as one more problem. when we hung out he would complain that i was too sad. important note: because of that text he sent me i was incredibly insecure. so, little arguments would always end up escalating because i felt like he literally did not care about me and he would just keep making me feel like shit about being depressed. whenever we argued (which was very often) it would end in me locking myself in the bathroom, sobbing, nearly throwing up, while he was on his phone. i remember one specific argument started because he asked me if i would leave him for harry styles and i jokingly said yes (i am not and have never been attracted to harry styles). that argument escalated to the point where we almost broke up and he said to me “you should warn people before they fall in love with you that you are so mentally ill. because you’re always going to bring down the mental state of who you’re with”. he used my mental health against me like that a lot. whenever i would bring up something i wanted him to do or something that i didn’t like, he would call me needy, clingy, and say that he was trying his best but that i needed too much, that i was too much. all i wanted was reassurance. looking back, that’s all i ever asked for. whenever i would ask him if he loved me he would say “well i’m with you aren’t i?”. this is the same man who decided to go to vegas with his friends on my birthday after he promised he wouldn’t. this is the same man who said that he didn’t love me. the same one who said he wasn’t attracted to me. the same man who i would catch looking at other girl’s (some being his “friends”) provocative pictures on twitter. (this is definitely tmi so i’m just going to put a bunch of asterisks at the end of the tmi so you can skip there if you don’t want to read it) but there was a long period of time in our relationship where we had zero intimacy, and it wasn’t because of me. this fucked with my head a lot because i had this idea that because i was so emotional and needy that i could compensate physically. but when that stopped, my thoughts looked something like “the only thing i was useful for was sex and now he doesn’t even want that from me”.************whenever i remember this, a part of me thinks he might’ve been cheating on me during that time, but i have no proof so i guess we’ll never know. also during that time period, we were arguing over the same things over and over “it feels like you don’t love me” “but i’m hanging out with you” “that’s not the same as loving me” “you’re so fucking needy. and then you wonder why i don’t like coming over”. it was exhausting. we had the same friend group. and even our friends got so sick of us that they would tell me to break up with him. this went on for months until one day, on our one year anniversary, he told me that his plans for the day included playing video games. nothing else. that’s when i broke up with him. that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. i just couldn’t do it anymore.

we stayed friends afterwards in order to keep the peace within the friend group. after about a month, he told me he was going to do better. he said he was going to start going to the gym, and maybe even going to therapy, that he was going to eat better and live a better lifestyle for me. he said he was going to plan dates for us and treat me the way i deserved etc. very much vibes from that one euphoria scene. but i was done. maybe i didn’t communicate that well enough to him and that’s my fault. but i was really confused at the time and i didn’t know what i wanted. eventually we had a conversation and that’s when i told him that i was no longer interested in a relationship. i think i just didn’t believe him anymore. i didn’t believe that he would change for me or anyone else for that matter. through the entire relationship he was mean to me, he neglected me, belittled me, and overall made me feel like shit at worst and invisible at best. even when i would offer to plan things or suggest activities for us to do together, he would be disinterested the entire time or just cancel and make plans with his friends instead. and of course it was all my fault for one, flirting with his friend that one time, and two, just not being interesting enough. he made it feel like i wasn’t good enough, and at the same time victimized himself. he would tell me “nothing i do is ever good enough for you” while i was the one putting in all the effort in the relationship. then he would go “well why would i put in effort with you? remember when you were flirting with [redacted]? I still think about that and it fucks me up”. mind you, he would only bring this up whenever i brought up any concerns or issues. anyway, as you can tell it took me a really long time to realize that this relationship was toxic and unhealthy and i’m really proud of myself, again, for having the strength to leave and never look back. i think one of the reasons why it took me so long to realize that i was being mistreated was because everyone around him loved him. and to me it was hard to see how someone that was so well liked could be bad. so i felt like i was the problem. i felt like there was something wrong with me and if i just fixed that, then he would treat me better and love me and care about me. it took a lot of therapy to realize that he just wasn’t that into me. i was like a toy to him that he could just pay attention to when he was bored but ignore me the rest of the time. but then, when someone else showed interest in me he would suddenly care and be like “no she’s mine, you can’t have her”. he didn’t want me but he didn’t want anyone else to have me and that was the bottom line. that was the base off all the problems and toxicity that happened while we were together.

in conclusion, both of these men were awful in their own unique ways. i hope that by sharing this, someone who is in a similar situation will see it and identify these behaviors as something to watch out for. i hope that someone will see it and realize that they are not alone, and that they are not the first person to go through it, and that it gets better. these events all happened over two years ago and now i am in a beautiful and healthy relationship, i’m studying something that i am passionate about, and i am surrounded by people who love, care about, and support me. i am in a much happier place now and you will find that too, whoever you might be <3

#andianswers #i might’ve given myself a migraine with this one

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taexual · 6 months

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sleepwalking ● 14 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, risky motorcycle ride? (idk nothing bad happens but always wear helmets, friends), some fun flirting & jokes, but mostly ANGST AND PAIN (including explicit descriptions of very intense anxiety at the very end)

words: 12.3k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 14 ► this isn't over 'til we talk in the light, said i was sober, but you knew that i lied

In the lounge area outside the changing rooms of “013” in Tilburg, Jungkook was engaged in a very intense game of table tennis against Seokjin—and winning, even though Seokjin would have disagreed—when you entered to inform the band that they were going on stage in twenty minutes.

The game wrapped up as the members began to stretch while simultaneously accosting Jimin about their in-ears. There were never any serious issues – Jimin made sure he was the Sound Technician of the Year – but they enjoyed seeing him panic when everyone started moaning, “could you turn the backtrack up a bit?” or “I literally can’t hear myself.” This last one was Taehyung’s favourite, until Jimin started retorting with, “well, maybe you’re deaf,” and then continuing with his day.

The pre-show ritual was always chaotic, but it was endearing chaos, full of nervous laughter and sparkling eyes as the members of Rated Riot prepared for their performance.

Then, just as Jungkook left the dressing room, putting his own in-ears back in, he turned the corner and almost collided with Sid, who looked more than pleased when Jungkook took a surprised step back.

What an absolute eye-sore, Jungkook thought. As the tour went on, he began to understand your aversion to his friends better.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and it sounded like he wasn’t just asking about Sid being in this room. He was questioning Sid’s constant presence on this tour. Surely, with Jungkook no longer participating in his little games, he had to get bored and go back home.

The past few weeks have taught Jungkook that some friendships had an expiration date, and sometimes stupid bets accelerated that process. He was okay with that now—he realised that holding onto Sid would be much worse than being left alone.

“Just came to wish you luck before the show,” said Sid, who had never genuinely wished anyone luck before. “We’re here if you want to talk.”

Jungkook frowned and glanced at Minjun—who stood further away from the rest of their friends, and rolled his eyes—then he looked back at Sid.

“I’m good,” he said slowly and cautiously as if Sid was a snake that attacked when it sensed defiance.

Just when Jungkook thought he was safe and tried to walk away, Sid’s saccharine voice—the venomous kind—called out, “don’t forget we’re going out racing tonight!”

Jungkook stopped and turned to him again. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sid taunted. “This could be your chance to practise riding a rental since it seems like you’re going to lose your bike in five—”

“You really don’t have anything better to do, do you?” Jungkook interrupted. Maybe it was the pre-show adrenaline or maybe he had finally grown tired of Sid’s bullshit, but he added, “I feel sorry for you.”

Sneering because people felt many things for him – mostly contempt – but pity wasn’t one of them, Sid leaned in closer. It was a tactic that Jungkook had already grown immune to, but Sid was a creature of habit.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he hissed, not bothered by the emptiness in Jungkook’s stare. “See you later.”

“You won’t,” Jungkook asserted. “I’m not going out with you. This is all over, including the bet.”

Sid raised his eyebrows. With a very specific sense of justice that no one else in this hallway—or in this world—possessed, he declared, “I get the Katana, then.”

There was something questioning about his tone, however. As if he needed Jungkook’s confirmation that he did indeed lose this bet to Sid.

But Jungkook was firm: “You don’t.”

Sid threw his head back and scoffed with an exasperation that could have put a two-year-old to shame. “Well, then neither do you!”

“That’s fine,” Jungkook said. “Minjun can keep it.”

As Sid huffed and growled in frustration, Jungkook looked at his friend again. Minjun seemed about ready to interject—he was the one person here who did not want the bike and, in fact, wished it did not exist at all—but Sid finally found his words.

“You think Minjun can—the bike is mine,” he insisted. “I won—”

“Sid, you don’t give two shits about the fucking bike,” Jungkook cut him off, very tired of the repetitive argument. “Get over it.”

The conversation with Taehyung at Hoseok’s party weighed heavily on Jungkook’s mind. He knew he had bigger things to worry about right now—forget losing the bike. He might lose you.

In his usual dignified manner—so, not dignified at all—Sid rolled his eyes and snarled, “I agreed to bet on it, didn’t I? Obviously, I do give a shit.”

“No,” Jungkook said. “You give a shit about winning. But it’s over. We’re not doing this anymore. Deal with it.”

There was a redness on Sid’s face that hadn’t been there before. A week ago, Jungkook would have been excited to see it—it would have certainly meant a point in his favour. Now, he didn’t want to see Sid’s face at all.

“It’s not over,” Sid argued, persistent like a fly that keeps hitting the glass of a window. “There’s still five days left.”

“Five days until what?”

Four heads whipped around to see you standing at the end of the hallway, confused by the snippet of conversation that you’d overheard. You had returned to find Jungkook because the rest of the band was already pacing – or, in Hoseok’s case, doing restless sit-ups – by the side of the stage.

Jungkook, Sid, Jude, and Minjun stared at you with eyes so bright and wide that they could have guided ships off the coast.

You’ve never met four boys who looked more stunned to see you. It was as if you had accidentally stumbled into the latest concert of the Masculine Ritual, Absolutely No Femininity Allowed, God Forbid Someone Who Identifies as Female Enters The Room tour, and they could not believe this was happening.

“Uh,” Jungkook was the first to react as he immediately approached you. “I’ll tell you later. They’re just excited about, uh, London.”

You did the mental calculations while Jungkook gently squeezed your shoulder to turn you around and steer you away from his friends and towards the stage.

The London show really was more or less in five days, so you decided not to question that part. But the quick pace at which Jungkook was pulling you away from the others still unsettled you.

As you turned a corner, you looked back and saw Sid frowning at you, while Minjun—as usual lately—looked like he regretted being born, and Jude—as usual always—was picking his fingernails.

“Is Sid in one of his chaotic moods again?” you asked as you walked—nearly ran, actually, with the way Jungkook was pulling you. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine,” he assured with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s just… doing Sid things. You know. Nothing to worry about as long as—well, as long as you don’t get in his way. I have everything under control.”

Your primary goal on this tour was to stay out of Sid’s way as long as he stayed out of yours. But now was not the time to discuss it, because Rated Riot had three minutes until their performance.

“Alright, then,” you said. “Leave me out of it and we’re good.”

Jungkook coughed in response and stopped once you reached the other members of the band. You thought you saw Taehyung raise his eyebrows when Jungkook took his hand off your shoulders, but maybe you were just imagining it.

You turned to the rest of the band, all of whom looked pale and fidgety and unsure.

The speakers had malfunctioned during the soundcheck earlier, so Jimin and Seokjin had to cut it short to fix the problem. Naturally, the disruption of their usual routine made the band anxious. The table tennis match between Seokjin and Jungkook—arguably the most unhinged members of the team when it came to games—had distracted everyone, but now they returned to the unpleasant arms of anxiety.

“Come on,” you said, trying to sound more energetic than you were feeling. “Stop looking like you’re going to get hanged. You’ll do fantastic out there. Go and have fun. And don’t bother coming backstage until you’re drenched and the crowd won’t stop changing your names. I mean it.”

Finally, a small smile appeared on Yoongi’s face as he rolled up one of his pant legs—for no reason other than he thought it looked cool. Honestly, it worked for him.

“Why did that last part sound like a threat?” he quipped, standing up straight.

“Because it is,” you replied. When you turned to Jungkook, he had his eyebrows furrowed as if he was still worried about something, but he started to smile as soon as he felt your gaze. You added, “I’ll be out there watching you. Kick some ass.”

You high-fived all four of them and pulled back as the boys erupted battle cries and huddled together before taking the stage.

They were still nervous, but they had you and each other, and there was a room full of people excited to see them perform. This was supposed to be just another day at the office.

Smiling, you headed back to your usual spot by the stage where Luna was chatting with a few girls at the barricade, and Maggie was snapping pictures of the audience nearby.

It occurred to you while standing there, that you were thousands of kilometres away from your house, away from everything familiar. But with Rated Riot on stage, and Luna and Maggie by your side, you felt right at home.

There was nothing you wished more than to stay like this forever.

It was an unwritten law that touring with a rock band was fun, but quickly turned very hectic. Insomnia often became an unwelcome friend—especially for the members of the band who had fashionable bags under their eyes almost every day. But when they were on stage or meeting their fans after the show, they looked alive. They looked happy.

And the more drinks they had after the concert, the more that happiness seemed to grow.

“You know what I think?” Yoongi said on the couch in the dressing room where everyone had gathered after the show. He was tipsy as he swung the green Heineken bottle around, nearly splashing you and Namjoon as you sat on either side of him. “I think next time we’re in Europe, we’ll be performing at Wembley. Stade de France. The fucking Coliseum.”

“And Camp Nou?” you teased.

Yoongi and Namjoon—both avid Barcelona fans—nodded in eager agreement.

“And not as guests at festivals, either,” Yoongi continued. “Headliners.”

You smiled. “I can see that.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s own smile widened. “When we announced our tour, Kerrang! called us ‘The Next Reconnaissance’ on their Instagram.”

You felt an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach at the mention of the other band and turned away from the two boys. You remembered the alternative culture magazine running rampant with the moniker—always “The Next Reconnaissance,” never just Rated Riot.

“I… don’t think you’re the next anything,” you said. “I think you’re you. And being Rated Riot is already amazing.”

Yoongi needed a moment to process your words. For some reason, he had expected you to agree with the nickname. Part of him wanted to be “the next Reconnaissance,” considering how much they had achieved. But you were right.

“I like that,” he said. “That’s good. Yes. We’re Rated Riot. We’ll get Wembley. And Camp Nou.”

“I second that,” Namjoon said, pointing his beer bottle at the other boy. “But, oh, we saw Reconnaissance at Rose Bowl last year, remember? Might be the best concert I’ve ever been to. I know they were in town again before we left for Europe, but I didn’t get to go. It was at a smaller venue anyway, I think. Rose Bowl, though... Stadium shows are something else.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at Namjoon over Yoongi’s head. The producer didn’t normally say this much in one breath. He was clearly getting drunk.

Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t notice anything wrong. He was likely equally as buzzed. He hummed as he threw his head back and took a large swig of his beer. Then he turned to face you.

“We’ve never opened for a band their size before,” he said. “Do you think we even could? I mean, they’re not The Rolling Stones, but they’re… well…”

He let the sentence falter because he couldn’t find a fitting word, but both you and Namjoon understood.

“Uh, well, who says you can never work with them in the future? I know their manager,” you said, trying to sound uplifting, but quickly catching yourself. You could have made your point without mentioning this. But because the two boys suddenly looked at you as if you’d just said you were Kurt Cobain in your past life, you had to explain, “he’s, uh—he’s Nick Zhou. I worked under him after university.”

“No shit?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows even higher. “Are you still in touch?”

“Not really,” you mumbled, finding yourself in a tough spot. Avoiding the subject now, when you were the one who mentioned Nick, would essentially mean lying to them. You didn’t want to do that. Awkwardly, you admitted, “although, he did, um—he called me a few days ago. Back in Oslo.”

“What?” Namjoon leaned forward to look at you over Yoongi, who stopped drinking his beer, distracted by the conversation. “Why didn’t you say anything? What did he want?”

Suddenly, you regretted finishing your beer before you joined them on the couch.

“Well, see, that’s the thing. He, uh—he wasn’t calling about the band. Or, well, he was, but it wasn’t—okay.” You closed your eyes and took a breath. This was a very long detour to get to the most important sentence. “He said he’s looking for an assistant manager.”

The two boys next to you exchanged a look.

“And… he wants you?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “But only because he needs someone quickly and he’s already worked with me before, so—”

“Well, fuck,” Yoongi concluded, cutting off your humble explanation, while Namjoon offered an equally insightful, “wow, shit.”

You nodded – both observations accurate – and quickly added, “I didn’t—I’m not going to do it, though.”

“No?” Yoongi asked. “Why not?”

The hint of surprise in his voice made you uncomfortable. It sounded like the reasonable decision would have been to accept Nick’s offer and leave Rated Riot to work with this much bigger, much more intimidating band.

“I-I guess I don’t want to be anyone’s assistant anymore,” you stammered. “I like running the ship myself.”

The guitarist’s expression softened. But before he could speak, Namjoon slapped his palm on his thigh and cheered so uncharacteristically loudly that you and Yoongi both pulled back from him in surprise.

“I know that’s fucking right!” Namjoon cried out. “Steer us all right and Rated Riot will surpass them. You’ll be calling that guy to get him to be your assistant.”

You laughed at the unexpected proposition, and Yoongi gave your knee a friendly pat.

“We won’t let you down,” he said, much more collected than the boy next to him. “You know?”

“I know.” You were smiling with all the warmth in your chest. “I believe you, that’s why I don’t want to leave. But, uh—would you mind not telling anyone else about this? I don’t want it to, you know, blow out of proportion. It wasn’t even an official offer, really, he just mentioned that there was an opening. But I just… I thought it would be unfair if I didn’t eventually tell any of you.”

Yoongi nodded knowingly. Rated Riot didn’t have a designated leader, since Namjoon—as their main producer—and Seokjin—as their stage manager—called most of the shots, but as the oldest member of the band, Yoongi was typically the one to talk to you about the heavier topics.

“It’s cool,” he said. “As long as you’re staying with us, no one else really needs to know about this, right?”

What he’d just said—paired with the way he looked at you for a few seconds longer than necessary—seemed to imply something else. Your eyes automatically drifted to Jungkook, who was talking to Seokjin and Jimin on the other side of the room.

You lowered your eyes. “Yeah.”

Yoongi finished his beer in one swift gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he looked at you again.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he said.

You met his gaze. “For what?”

“For believing in us enough to stay.”

Namjoon felt himself smile as he quietly finished his beer. He knew he was tipsy, but he wasn’t drunk enough to interrupt the moment between you two.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Here, you turned to Namjoon. “Right?”

Looking at you in surprise after you addressed him, the producer scrambled to nod.

“Oh, hell yeah!” he said, leaning forward to reach Yoongi’s completely empty bottle with his own. “Here’s to Wembley next year.”

You smiled as the older boy clinked his empty bottle against Namjoon’s, then tipped his head back to get the last stubborn drops.

“Oh, by the way,” Yoongi spoke as he swallowed and immediately coughed. “D-did you find out what was going on with Jungkook and his lyrics?”

It took you a minute to recall your last conversation with Yoongi—the one that had led you to Jungkook, where he had dodged your questions and later snuck into your bunk on the tour bus and kissed you.

“Uh, well.” You tugged at the sleeve of your leather jacket. “He said that the song he played you was just a demo. He’s still working on the melody. And he said that he just has someone who reviews his lyrics for him, nothing more.”

Yoongi nodded to the rhythm of an unusually slow Asking Alexandria song that played from the speakers of the dressing room.

“So, we shouldn’t worry?” he asked, clearly hopeful.

“Apparently, no,” you said with an uneasy smile.

“Alright,” he decided. “Then let’s not worry.”

He looked at Namjoon who nodded in support of this decision.

And so, not worrying was exactly what they did. Instead, Namjoon brought three more bottles of Heineken and you all decided to just feel happy tonight.

As you scanned the room with a new bottle in your hand—while the boys finished their beer in under a minute and Namjoon got up again to bring more—it seemed to you that everyone had made the exact same decision.

Except Taehyung for some reason.

For a good minute, you watched him walk in circles in the very centre of the room. Then, just when you thought he’d stopped, he started another lap around the carpet.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you said to the two boys on the couch—they both nodded—and stood up.

A brief, unexpected fight broke out over the bottle of beer that you’d handed them—Namjoon won—and you hesitated for a moment as you realised you had a new problem and weighed it against the previous one.

The new problem was that Yoongi and Namjoon were getting very drunk. It was almost ridiculous, but probably harmless. Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be waiting to perform at four more gigs as soon as he left this room. You had to go to him first.

He had noticed the commotion by the couch, but he did not acknowledge your approach.

“Is everything okay?” You had to stop right in front of him to ask as he continued his frenzied pacing. “You’re kind of walking in circles here.”

Taehyung stopped as if in a daze and looked at you. “Hm? Ah. Lots on my mind, I guess.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Uh…” He looked around. The movement seemed thoughtful, but without a clear purpose—it seemed like he was just avoiding your eyes. Then you saw his gaze land on Jungkook. Taehyung looked at him for a moment, then turned back to you and scratched the back of his neck in a telltale sign of universal discomfort. He said, “honestly, maybe it’s not me that you should be talking to.”

You glanced at Jungkook, too—he was explaining something to Jimin with very wild hand gestures. He still appeared to be on a high from the concert.

“You mean Jungkook?” you asked, shifting your attention back to Taehyung. “Is he the reason why you’re pacing?”

“Sort of,” the bassist replied, blinking at the carpet.

You didn’t like the trepidation in your stomach. And you definitely didn’t like the unexpected memory of the alarm that you had seen on Jungkook’s face in your hotel room in Amsterdam.

“Why?” you asked because, despite the ominous dread that you were feeling, it was still your responsibility to know what was going on with the band.

“Just talk to him,” Taehyung advised. “But don’t tell him I said so.”

You hesitated, wanting a bit more information before you dived off this cliff headfirst. You asked, “at least tell me if something happened, so I can be prepared.”

He glanced at Jungkook again. This time, the younger member seemed to sense his gaze as he turned around. Taehyung looked away immediately.

He muttered quickly, “ask about his friends,” and then retreated to the very back of the room until he was fully concealed by Hoseok and Maggie.

A reluctant “oh,” passed your lips, but knowing that Jungkook’s friends were involved meant that there was nothing else that Taehyung could have said to you anyway.

You had to go straight to the source.

You couldn’t say this surprised you. You already got an odd feeling when you walked in on Sid and his Asshole Alliance before the concert tonight, but Jungkook had assured you that everything was fine.

However, if this was something that made Taehyung stomp around the room—which never happened unless the situation was extremely stressful, like the time Luna was getting surgery and he almost rubbed off the soles of his shoes, walking back and forth in the waiting room of the clinic—then it most certainly wasn’t fine.

Your original plan was to wait until everyone was back on the tour bus, since you’d be spending the night in Tilburg anyway. But then you remembered all the times you’d asked Jungkook if everything was okay—and all the times he said it was—and you decided that waiting would not cut it this time.

“Hey,” you said right in the middle of his conversation with Jimin. You added an apologetic, “could you excuse us, please?” but Jimin could tell as soon as he looked at you that he’d better leave.

As quickly as it was humanly possible, he nodded and jogged to join Yoongi and Namjoon by the door of the room. The two of them were loudly discussing their plan to go out and find a bar, but they paused after noticing Jimin.

You watched them for a moment, wondering if you should have stopped them from leaving when they were already so drunk, but they noticed you, waved, and left before you could open your mouth.

Sighing, you turned to Jungkook just as he asked, “what’s up?”

He didn’t appear unusual when you looked at him. But he rarely ever did.

“Are you okay?” you asked in return.

You were both tired of the question, but Jungkook disliked the sound of it particularly much this time. He’d seen you—out of the corner of his eye—take six steps in his direction right after you finished talking to Taehyung.

What if he’d told you?

“Uh, of course,” Jungkook said, looking at you with just as much confusion—and a sprinkle of suspicion—as you were looking at him with. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” you said. Your heart rate increased as if you’d already heard the bad news you were expecting to hear. “How are, um—how’s Sid and everyone else?”

Jungkook disliked this question even more.

“Oh,” he said in a relaxed tone that sounded forced even to him. He cleared his throat and scanned the room for the older member, but didn’t find him. Even more nervous now, he turned to you and tried again. “You mean Sid and the others? They—they’re okay. Sid’s just being annoying, but what else is new? But I’m—we’re all okay. Thanks for, uh, for checking in.”

“Of course,” you said. You waited for him to elaborate so you could discover the reason for Taehyung’s anxiety which resulted in two more members of the band that you needed to worry about.

Honestly, Hoseok was the only one who wasn’t playing with your nerves tonight. You saw him peacefully tapping his foot to the music in the room as he chatted with Maggie and a few other staff members.

Jungkook did not pursue the topic further.

“What did you talk about with, uh—with Taehyung?” he asked instead with all the subtlety of a frightened elephant in a porcelain shop.

“Oh, this and that,” you lied. Then, feeling uncomfortable about lying, you scattered a bit of truth in there, “Luna’s face-timing her mum on the bus, so he was—he’s bored.”

“Ah.” Jungkook nodded. “Makes sense.”

He didn’t think—or didn’t want to think—that Taehyung would tell you about the bet after he asked him not to.

And, really, he tried to be reasonable. If Taehyung had told you, would you be here, peacefully asking him if he was okay?

No. You’d use fists, he presumed. Possibly knees.

“So, there’s nothing you want to tell me?” you asked suddenly, interrupting his masochistic fantasy.

Jungkook swallowed. Whatever it was that you talked about with Taehyung, it was clearly neither this, nor that.

“There is, uh, one thing,” he admitted slowly.

You inhaled. “What is it?”

“What are you plans for the rest of the night?”

This was not what you had braced yourself for. Annoyed by his stalling, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket.

“Well, depending on what you tell me, either I’m arguing with you or going to sleep,” you said. Glancing at the phone in your hand, you added, “it’s two in the morning.”

“We have tomorrow off,” he reminded you. “Well, today, I guess.”

“I know, but we’re going to Cologne—”

“That’s only in the evening.”

“Okay.” You looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear the two of you. Not that you were doing anything forbidden—just merely bordering on it. “What are you getting at?”

“You’ve finished all your work for the night, right?” he asked and you nodded apprehensively. He said, “come do something with me.”

Once again, the dilemma that plagued your mind whenever you were with him returned.

The responsible thing to do here would be to, of course, gently suggest going to sleep. There was a long day of travel ahead of you, after all.

However, this could be your chance to determine if there was truly something alarming happening between him and his friends. Not to mention, he clearly still had something to tell you, despite appearing to have lost courage after the strange moment in your hotel room.

And, alright – the truth was, you wanted to do something with him.

“That’s very vague,” you finally said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Come with me,” Jungkook said, gesturing towards the door of the dressing room.

You agreed to follow him to the door but paused before leaving the room.

“I’d like more information,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest.

You tried to convince yourself that there was no logical reason for the entire room to be watching you and Jungkook right now, but you still felt phantom eyes all over yourself.

This wasn’t Hoseok’s party. You were still at the concert venue where Jungkook was the performer, and you were the manager.

He noticed your unease. First, he sighed. Then, as if he was compromising, he extended his hand.

“Take my hand,” he said. “And come with me.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant—”

“Come on,” he cut in, waving his hand in front of you. “Less talking, more holding my hand.”

Because your back obstructed the view of his outstretched hand for everyone else in the room, you knew you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing this. Still, you let out a slow, anxious breath.

“Fine,” you said with exaggerated irritation to emphasise your displeasure about being kept in the dark. Then you took his hand.

As the two of you exited the room, there were ulterior motives firmly set in both of your minds.

You had to find out what was going on.

He had to tell you what was going on.

And Jungkook had a plan here somewhere. He knew he needed to tell you about the bet tonight, especially since you almost found out about it accidentally right before the show. And also because Taehyung looked about ready to start climbing walls.

He had a rough idea of how he’d like to tell you: it had to happen in a beautiful spot that would make up for the awful revelation he was about to make. If not make up for it, then at least make it worth your while.

And he’d done his research—as always. This was the one lesson from your relationship that he hadn’t learned as he continued to strenuously plan everything in the hopes of making it memorable and unique.

“There’s this spot. The Wandelbos,” he said as the two of you walked hand-in-hand down the corridor of the venue.

He pronounced the word with relative ease, making you wonder how many times he’d heard it. Then he showed pictures on his phone.

“This looks like a forest,” you commented, stopping to scroll through several photographs of squirrels and autumn trees—which wasn’t easy because he refused to let go of your hand as you held his phone.

“It’s a baroque park,” he clarified. “It’s beautiful, supposedly.”

You handed his phone back to him. “I’m sure it is. But not at two in the morning.”

“The path is star-shaped,” he continued, ignoring your interjection as the two of you kept walking. “And there’s a clearing in the middle with a pond and a bridge and—oh, and it’s only about six kilometres away.”

He held the exit door open, allowing you to walk out into the brisk night air.

Crossing the threshold, you looked at him with your eyebrows raised. “You want to walk over there?”

Actually, he did. But your question made him pause. “Uh... no?”

You stopped and waited until he walked out into the parking lot, but his attention was suddenly drawn to something behind you.

You ignored that and said, “well, we can’t rent bicycles at this time and—”

“Sorry—hold on for one second,” he stopped you abruptly.

You turned around and followed his gaze until you spotted Minjun by the restaurant across the street. Your lips parted in involuntary surprise, but it wasn’t Minjun’s presence that really startled you. It was the fact that he was leaning against a motorcycle, of all things, and there were two more bikes parked right next to him.

When you looked back at Jungkook, he looked almost relieved.

How wonderful it was, he thought, that Sid was such an insufferable idiot that he would decide to have a drag race in the middle of the Netherlands.

From across the street, the bike Minjun had rented out appeared to be a Kawasaki. Despite Jungkook’s previous bad experiences with the brand—involving a mild concussion and a dented metal fence, which, in his defence, appeared out of nowhere—this gave him an idea immediately.

“Could we go over there? Or maybe you could wait here for a minute?” he asked you while already walking away—and pulling on your hand until you had to let go because you were absolutely not going over there. He promised, “one minute!”

You could tell right away that he’d just found a potential means of transportation.

“Jungkook, that’s probably not a good idea!” you called out as he neared the street.

“I’ll be right back!” he shouted, forming the shape of a heart with both of his hands as he went.

You cringed as he crossed the street without looking both ways, but fortunately, there weren’t a lot of cars around. Unfortunately, however, you couldn’t hear what he and Minjun talked about due to the distance and the heavy gusts of wind.

You waited alone, with only your confusion for company.

If Jungkook stayed with the band while his friends went out, and now he went over there to borrow some devil-sent motorcycle, then clearly, that had to mean that he finally started to make smart(er) decisions while still being on good terms with his friends.

So, what was it that worried Taehyung so much?

“Dude!” Jungkook exclaimed across the street from you when he finally reached Minjun and scared the hell out of him with his shout—he flinched so vehemently that he nearly knocked the bike over. “Whose is this?”

“Uh—mine. We rented bikes for the race,” Minjun explained and glanced at you standing by the exit of the venue. “Sid was about to call you and force you to come with us—”

“I need it,” Jungkook interrupted, choosing to ignore the fact that there wouldn’t have been enough bikes if he had come along.

Minjun turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Huh?”

“I need to borrow it.”

“Borrow—it’s a rental.” Minjun turned his head to look at the neon green motorcycle. He knew that riding down the city streets with Sid and Jude on rented bikes was already reckless. Subletting the motorcycle to someone else, however, might be equally as stupid. “It’s in my name.”

“It’s the least you can do for me,” Jungkook said right away as if he had planned this in advance instead of only noticing Minjun and the motorcycle a mere two minutes ago.

His words weren’t entirely true, considering that Minjun wasn’t the one who had manipulated him into this mess. But Jungkook was appealing to his conscience—and that thing was eating Minjun alive. You could see it from across the street, even without knowing the reason for it.

Minjun bit his lip, fighting a very unpleasant battle with his own self.

“Okay. Fine,” he conceded, even though he knew very well what Sid would say about his impartiality and about the fact that he’d now have to ride as someone’s passenger—likely Jude’s, because Sid would rather cut his own head off than allow someone else on his bike, even if it was a rental. Hurriedly, Minjun added, “you have to return the bike back by midday tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook replied brightly. “That’s more than enough time.”

“I’ll text you the address of the rental place,” Minjun continued, getting his phone out.

Jungkook kept on nodding. “That’s great. You do that.”

His friend typed a text message and pulled out the keys to the bike from his jacket pocket. He tossed them to Jungkook just as his phone vibrated.

“Don’t wreck it,” Minjun warned. “Or yourself.”

Jungkook grinned, swinging his right leg over the motorcycle and putting the key in the ignition. “I won’t. Thanks again!”

His friend glanced back at the restaurant, suddenly grateful that the take-out was taking so long to prepare. This meant that Sid and Jude wouldn’t notice Minjun giving the bike away—even though they would notice it gone and would probably realise where it went.

Meanwhile, Jungkook revved the engine and turned towards the parking lot of the venue.

The Kawasaki felt unusual underneath him and it made him miss his Katana, but he swallowed the disconcert. Beggars couldn’t be choosers—this was better than nothing in any case.

He stopped right in front of you in the parking lot, switched the engine off, and leaned back from the handlebar to give you a smile.

“So?” He patted the side of the bike. “Ready for a ride?”

You shook your head, disapproving of the cheesy grin on his face, and sunk your teeth into your tongue to resist a smile.

There were numerous—numerous—reasons why you weren’t ready to climb on this bright green monstrosity that must have been visible from any space station above. If not visible, then certainly audible.

“There’s only one helmet,” was the one concern that you chose to voice.

Jungkook hadn’t considered that as he glanced at the helmet, attached to the tail of the bike. He leaned over to unhook it and offered it to you.

“No,” you said before he started to speak. “If anything, you should be the one wearing it. You’re the driver. And the vocalist of a band that’s literally on tour right now. You can’t perform if you get your head snapped off.”

“Can’t perform if I get yours snapped off, either,” he argued. “Put it on. I’ll go slow.”

This was still a safety hazard, and at first, you debated arguing. Then you tried to rationalise.

Jungkook hadn’t had any alcohol after the show—which was very unusual, now that you thought about it. He must have been planning something all along.

Additionally, the streets were mostly empty, except for one car whose driver gaped suspiciously at the many motorcycles on the street, narrowing his eyes at each and every one of them as he drove past.

There was also Minjun across the street, looking as though he was praying that you and Jungkook would drive off quickly.

“Come on,” Jungkook encouraged. You understood his impatience—if Minjun was here, the rest of the Insolent Idiots couldn’t be far behind.

You looked back at the helmet in his hands.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten on a motorcycle with Jungkook, but it had been a while.

He had always been a huge fan of anything that could reach over a hundred in under five seconds, so he’d been riding bikes since before he was legally allowed to. However, the two of you had already broken up when he purchased and restored the Katana that he never stopped talking about—so you’d never ridden with him when he actually owned the vehicle.

It occurred to you suddenly that Jungkook had probably never mentioned his motorcycle since the tour started. You made a mental note to ask him about that later.

Now, you finally took the helmet from him and pushed it over your head. Maybe the most important justification for your decision was this: you’d missed the excited twirling of your heart when he took you for a ride.

The joy that Jungkook felt as he watched you put the helmet on surprised him.

He remembered the first time you struggled to fasten the straps under your chin and managed to graze your skin. Now, listening to you sigh as you squeezed the helmet over your head and tightened the straps without his help, he realised that you hadn’t forgotten. That you were still used to this.

Excited shivers ran across his skin as you climbed on the bike behind him. But he could sense your apprehension—your initial instinct was to hold onto the back of the bike.

“Come on, now. This isn’t your first time,” he said, looking at you over his shoulder. “You know I won’t go unless I know you’re holding on tight.”

“I assure you,” you said. Your voice was muffled by the helmet. “I’m holding on tight.”

He clicked his tongue as he turned to face forward again. “I happen to not believe you.”

“Tough.”

“We’ll be here a while, it seems.” He released the handles and leaned back. “Maybe we should see if Sid wants to join us, I’m sure he would love to—”

“My God!” you groaned. “Fine.”

You wrapped your hands around his waist but kept your touch light, almost nervous. Grinning, Jungkook reached for your hands and pulled them closer to make sure you had a strong hold.

When he squeezed the clutch, he felt you tighten your arms around him even more. Satisfied that he could feel more of your weight against his back, he finally pressed the starter and pulled the bike off.

He raced down the street—much to Minjun’s relief—at a speed that definitely would have been dangerous for someone without a helmet if there had been other cars around. But the road was empty and there were hardly any turns to make.

And as he sped down these empty streets, you had to admit to yourself that this was, simply, thrilling.

The rapid pace seemed to elevate your insides, forcing you to hold onto Jungkook more tightly as you rested your head against his back and watched the streetlights blur together. The deafening sound of the engine, the dark visor of your helmet, the intoxicating speed, the rough metal underneath your thighs, and the soft leather of the jacket that he was wearing—all of it was absolutely exhilarating.

Jungkook knew—he’d always known—that you would have enjoyed the thrill of a late-night ride far more than a simple walk down the Tilburg streets.

And he was excited to see your silly grin and dilated pupils after you took off the helmet outside of the park. He was almost flustered by your glow—and by the fact that he was the reason why you looked so happy and so overwhelmingly full of life.

He nearly forgot to lock the bike as he looked at you.

But then the sudden memory of why he’d brought you here caught up to him like a painful crash.

“Uh, so,” he turned away, “should we go explore?”

“Might as well,” you joked weakly. Your legs were still a little shaky from the ride. “Since we’re already here anyway.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t mind taking another drive,” he said with a more confident smirk—that only grew in size and arrogance when he saw you smile at the suggestion. Then, he looked down and added, “but I also wouldn’t mind just walking and… talking.”

The two of you had done a lot of that—just walking and talking—since the tour started, so agreeing to this felt natural and harmless.

The park was beautiful indeed, just as the pictures on Jungkook’s phone had promised. Granted, walking through it at night when the streetlights were so sparse, provided a layer of eerie uncertainty—but even now, you were mesmerised.

In addition to the bold squirrels, peeking at you through the tree branches—their fur barely noticeable among the dark foliage, but their little beady eyes glistening—you could also see the sky above. You could see all of it, it seemed. And the patterns of the stars were so bright that you found yourself stopping several times, utterly captivated by them.

You regretted not learning the names of constellations—or how to differentiate them—but looking at the night sky was a breathtaking experience regardless.

The sky looked different here. And it felt closer, too. It was something you didn’t believe you could ever get used to, no matter how much you stayed here.

After a short while, you and Jungkook arrived at a pond, and he informed you that this was the very centre of the park.

It reminded you of home in an odd way, even though there weren’t many ponds back home—and none of them looked quite as charming as this one. Yet there was something familiar here, something homely. Even at night, in a park that resembled a forest more than a cosy picnic spot, there was something heartwarming here.

You could have been feeling this way, you supposed, because Jungkook was holding your hand as he guided you down a narrow plank over a dark creek. Without him, the eeriness of spending the night in an old park alone would have been much more noticeable. But with him here, it just felt comfortable. As if you both knew that you were destined to be safe from all harm here.

The stream ran deeper into the forest, and there were several benches scattered in the clearing on either side of the creek. The two of you sat down on one of them and listened to the silence of the trees and the gentle flow of the water.

Remembering suddenly, you spoke up—quietly, mindful not to disrupt the peace of all living things around you. “Did you know that my parents actually had their first date by a creek?”

Jungkook turned to you. He was more comfortable being loud, because he didn’t feel like a guest here. With you there, he sort of felt like the night—and everything that it touched—belonged to him.

“That’s a… very specific location,” he commented.

“Yeah.” You snickered. “There were no creeks in our town, dad took mum to the city where he grew up.”

“Oh, that’s actually nice,” he said, a little surprised. He’d never met your dad, but he knew that ‘nice’ wasn’t the adjective that was usually used in the same sentence as his name. “Was the creek special to him?”

“Not really,” you replied, shattering the romantic image that had already formed in his head. “It was the only pretty place that he could think of at the time. At least that’s what my mum thought.”

Careful, because this was a delicate topic and he didn’t want to come off like he was defending your dad, Jungkook asked, “she never found out if there was, maybe, more to it?”

“She never asked,” you said. “Either way, that date didn’t exactly end well. In the long-term, I mean.”

Jungkook looked down at the dark ground beneath his boots. A few blades of grass poked through the dirt on the shore of the creek.

“I know what you mean,” he said slowly. “But can you really say that with such certainty? She has two kids. And you’re both pretty great.”

You smiled at this, and it gave him the courage to smile, too.

“Thanks,” you said. “And yeah. I guess you’re right. Some good did come out of it.”

The two of you were quiet for a minute. It was a comfortable minute, too, but only as long as you managed to keep your mind empty.

You succeeded—the memories of the stories that your mum had told you were slowly fading, overtaken by the calming whispers of the trees around you—but he didn’t.

“I never asked—and I don’t want to intrude now, but, uh,” Jungkook started, “from what you’ve told me before, I assumed that your parents got back together at some point, right?”

You nodded with an exhale from somewhere deeper than just your chest.

“Several points, actually,” you said.

Happy that you seemed willing to share this, he encouraged, “yeah?”

“Yeah. She kept taking him back when I was young, and my brother was—well, a baby, essentially,” you said. “Everyone told her not to do it, not even for the kids. They told her to move on, maybe find someone better. My uncle—mum’s brother—protested against this especially much. He had been against their marriage from the very beginning. But my mum loved the guy.”

The smile on your face when you said that last part made Jungkook tense—it contradicted so much with the sadness in your eyes.

“Did he love her back?” he asked.

You were about to respond with a reflexive answer that had been ingrained in you by years and years of your mother screaming about how your father was a good-for-nothing loser, how he could never love anyone other than himself, and plenty of other colourful descriptions that you probably shouldn’t have known at your age at the time. And yet, despite the intensity of her emotions after every break-up, she still took him back. Until one day she didn’t.

And now you had to pause.

“That’s probably a million-dollar question,” you said with a sad chuckle. “I don’t know. Is that awful of me to say? She doesn’t think he did, but she still got back together with him so many times. So maybe he did love her in his own fucked up way. But I-I don’t think someone who loves you is supposed to hurt you like that.”

Jungkook had leaned back as he listened to you and he nearly toppled over backwards at your words.

You were right, of course.

Someone who loved you should have never hurt you.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “That’s, uh—that’s not awful. That’s sad, I think. Your mum deserves better.”

“She does,” you agreed. “But I understand now that—well, in a way, she is who she is because of all that happened to her. She’s very strong and she cares so much. And the fact that her only flaw is loving people too much, it’s—I don’t know. Lately, that just makes me admire her more. Because she sees the best in people. No one does that these days, everyone’s always afraid to get hurt. But my mum, she’s like—she’s fearless. You know? I genuinely respect that.”

“Even if she really does end up getting hurt?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah. Even then. And maybe that’s the thing,” you said, looking up at the sky again. “I mean, in general. The people we love are the only ones who can hurt us like that. Or, rather, it’s precisely because we love them that it hurts so much.”

“Hmm.”

He wasn’t sure if you were still talking about your parents by the time you reached the last few sentences, but he was too afraid to ask. He couldn’t even look at you as he stayed frozen in the same spot.

“I’m probably not making much sense,” you added with a small, uncertain laugh. “I just meant that it took me a while to understand my mum. Actually, I don’t know if I even fully understand her to this day, but um… I watched her give second chances to people who held the most against her and could hurt her the most. I thought they didn’t deserve it. But she... She knew the risk, she was familiar with heartbreak, and still, she stayed hopeful. For a long time, I resented that. I thought that was a—a weakness. It sounds cruel. But I thought I could never do that.”

You paused again. The memories—of more than just your parents—flashed in your mind a little too quickly for you to collect your thoughts. You looked down to compose yourself and felt Jungkook’s hesitant glance.

Finally, you finished, “all these years of watching the back-and-forth between my parents… It made me think that I could never give someone a second chance.”

Digging into the dirt with the heel of his boot, Jungkook asked, “you, uh… you don’t think so anymore?”

He glanced at you once more and then looked away again, even though you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on the creek in front of you.

“I don’t know,” you said after a moment. “I think I’m less decided about it now. I admire my mum for having the courage for it, even though it rarely ever works out. And now I guess I think that it is more of a case-by-case kind of thing. It depends on the person.”

Feeling as if his chest had absorbed the water from the pond and everything inside of him was being flooded, Jungkook didn’t dare to inhale.

Breathlessly, he asked, “what about me?”

“You?” you echoed awkwardly. He gave the smallest of nods in response.

You realised quickly that you hadn’t said this to him in over four years, and it felt terrifying to admit it now with the solemn trees, a hurried creek, and curious squirrels for an audience.

“Well, fuck.” You swallowed. “I mean, I love you. You know?” You chuckled to hide your unease and leaned down to touch the blades of grass growing under the bench. “Too much for my own good, probably.”

Jungkook suddenly forgot how to breathe. He looked up instead, but only caught a glimpse of the stars in the sky before he closed his eyes. The view behind his eyelids felt more special to him than the shimmering sky above—it was all darkness and dim echoes of you saying you loved him.

He couldn’t tell you now. How could he? You loved him.

And a second chance with you was all he’d ever wanted.

When he opened his eyes again, you were watching him. There was a haziness in your eyes—from the starry night, from the motorcycle drive, from the long overdue confession—and a small smile on your lips.

The moment that his eyes drifted to your lips, he felt himself inhale—more than once and he would have floated away—before he leaned in, responding to everything you’d said with a kiss.

He’d tell you about the bet, he would—but not now. Not when he felt your breath hitch as his lips touched yours. Not when you kissed him back, replacing all air in his lungs with your taste.

Right now, neither of you needed to say any other word as the forest around you settled. The leaves were frozen as if the wind didn’t dare to rustle them for fear of interrupting you.

The thought made you smile into the kiss—what a self-centred way to interpret your surroundings—and Jungkook pulled you closer.

For a minute, he made it feel like the world really did stop turning for the two of you. Like the forces of the universe had interfered to—

He pulled away all of a sudden, breathing so heavily that he was nearly hyperventilating.

He couldn’t do this. He’d already done too much.

The time that he’d borrowed—that he’d stolen—to be with you in peace had run out. Not even the universe could give it back to him.

“I’m sorry. There’s just, um,” he began, looking down and bringing a hesitant finger over his lower lip. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You felt your heart skip over a beat.

Immediately, you found yourself returning to the hotel room in Amsterdam. It felt vastly different now and the difference sobered you up—you had been in your hotel room then, but you were alone in an empty park tonight. And you realised that discussing it here would be a mistake.

Whatever he was about to tell you might make it difficult for you to stay here and you would have no way to leave.

“Wait,” you said. The word caught him off guard. “Tell me when we get back.”

He blinked. The very reason why he’d brought you here was to tell you the truth in a place that was yours for the night.

“W-why?” he asked.

“It’s not fair to me otherwise,” you said. Your heart had shifted from pleasant pounding to near-panicked banging, and you were starting to feel nauseous. “I’d be very inconvenienced if I was left here alone.”

Jungkook appeared even more perplexed. “Why would you be—I’m not leaving. I’m staying with you.”

“That’s assuming I don’t kill you after you tell me what you’re about to tell me,” you tried to joke. There was a small—almost desperate—smirk on the corner of your lips.

Jungkook looked away.

“Oh.” Nervously, he licked his lips. He hadn’t considered you being so uncomfortable after he told you that you wouldn’t want him around. And now that he thought about it, he felt a little dizzy. “Well, that’s, uh… that’s fair enough. Should we—do you want to go back?”

The dread in your stomach seemed to grow at this question.

You knew that you had to be aware of what was happening with him, but the ceremony of it—the trip to this beautiful spot and the kiss that unintentionally coaxed him into the truth—scared you.

You wanted to resist the rational parts of your mind and stay here, where you had just forbidden him from speaking about this.

“Not really,” you admitted.

Jungkook nodded, relieved by your honesty. “Me neither.”

So, you stayed still for another minute. Then another minute. And another one. Until all the additional time you’d given yourselves had run out, too.

You peeked at Jungkook out of the corner of your eye, afraid suddenly that he would look back at you and then you’d have to talk, after all.

He seemed very far away. Much further than that first night in Amsterdam, when he came to your hotel room to talk.

Now there were sirens blaring in his head and a relentless pounding in his chest. You could almost hear it when you looked at him.

At last, you said, “but we can’t stay here forever.”

Despite looking like he had drifted into another realm deep inside of his mind, Jungkook sighed. He’d been listening to you breathe, listening to the way the wind played with your hair. He was here.

But he really wished he wasn’t.

“I know,” he said.

Still, the two of you remained on the bench for another five minutes, surrounded by the quiet rustling of the weary trees. Even they seemed anxious for you.

This might be the last silence the two of you would share, Jungkook thought grimly.

He felt terrified.

Finally, he took a breath and turned to you. “Let’s—”

A faint buzzing from the back pocket of your jeans startled you both. The sound seemed so foreign here, like something that had travelled across time and space, and accidentally ended up here—in your universe, where it didn’t belong.

You pulled out your phone and saw, first of all, that it was four in the morning, and then that Namjoon was calling you.

“I should take this,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the tension that had left your hands very cold.

“Go ahead,” Jungkook mumbled.

This was fine, he tried to tell himself while you stepped away from him to answer the call. He would take you back to the truck stop where the tour buses should have been parked by now. And then he would tell you.

And whatever happened next would—

“So, that was Namjoon,” you said, returning to him with your phone in hand. The call had lasted for less than a minute. “Apparently, someone stole Yoongi’s laptop.”

Nearly thrown off balance at the news that sounded somehow disrespectful, considering the many things you already had to process, Jungkook frowned.

“Someone stole Yoongi’s laptop?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said, sliding the phone back into your pocket. You knew something like this would eventually happen. “Namjoon said that he and Yoongi went out for more drinks, and when they got back to the bus, the laptop was gone. They’re not sure when was the last time they saw it.”

Jungkook stood up from the bench. “Well, why do they think someone stole it? Maybe he just lost it.”

“Yoongi’s not the kind who loses things,” you pointed out.

“Well, Namjoon could have lent a hand with that.”

You shook your head to conceal your small, involuntary smile and shrugged, acknowledging that there was a chance that this really was a false alarm. Especially if Namjoon was involved. You all loved him very much, but he had a talent like no one else to consistently misplace his own—and others—belongings.

“They were already quite drunk when I talked to them backstage before leaving,” you said. “So it’s possible they got even more wasted and just lost track of it. Either way, I need to go back and find out what happened.”

You returned to being the band’s manager, and Jungkook wasn’t sure how to handle the sudden switch. He wasn’t sure how to handle anything that was happening. This whole park was spinning around him.

He felt a little bit like the creek behind him as he watched you—flowing somewhere on pure instinct, with no clear destination in sight.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said. Hesitantly, he extended his hand for you to take—to help you over the loose wooden plank again. And to ground himself with your touch. “Let’s go, then. We’ll talk later?”

You took his hand. “Yeah. We’ll talk later.”

The truth was, you did not want to talk later.

You had a terrible feeling about it, and however irresponsible it may have been, you wanted to delay it as much as possible.

When you and Jungkook returned to the truck stop, Yoongi and Namjoon had already figured out where the laptop was. They looked very pleased to have remembered the Locate My Device app, never mind that you were the one who had kindly reminded them about it over the phone.

The laptop was, as it turned out, at a McDonald’s across the city. Neither boy could recall ever going there, so they remained convinced the device had been stolen.

You listened to their hypothesis with a serious face. But, unlike them, you were sober—the few beers you’d had after the concert were long forgotten—and you knew that the “thief” would probably be smart enough not to stop for a McFlurry after stealing someone’s computer.

The logical explanation was that your usually lovable and dependable boys had gotten so drunk that they’d forgotten about the fast food trip and left the laptop there themselves.

Regardless, you had to investigate. Because Yoongi and Namjoon were both pale with terror—and still buzzing from the spontaneous beer-tasting adventure that they’d gone on—it was up to you to find the computer.

You didn’t mind. This was your job, anyway. And you were eager to do something that did not involve talking about whatever it was that Jungkook wanted to talk to you about.

Jungkook, on the other hand, did mind. And it was evident when you exited the bus and saw him standing by the doors, pouting.

“I have to pick up the laptop,” you said, “and maybe report it to the police if it was really stolen.”

“Should I come with you?” he offered, not meaning to give you the option to refuse—which you took, of course.

“No,” you said, “you need to rest.”

“And you don’t?” he countered. “You’re the one who’s so overworked that—”

“Don’t start with that again,” you said, raising a stern hand to cut him off before someone overheard. You caught the flash of surprise in his eyes and the expression on your face softened a little.

You hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but you’ve had an impossibly long day.

“Don't worry about me,” you said. “This is my job. I have things to do. Laptops to save.”

“If I come, then—”

“Stay here,” you interrupted. “You had a show tonight. Now you have to get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

Biting his lip as mixed feelings of guilt and regret bubbled in his stomach, he asked, “we’ll, uh—we’ll talk, though. Right?”

“We’ll talk,” you promised. “Tomorrow.”

He fought with himself for another moment and then ended up saying, “okay. You never take me with you anyway.”

You didn’t have time to argue, so you kissed him before you went—quickly, softly, and with a nervous smile as you pulled away—and his heart seemed to leave with you as empty echoes of his racing pulse reverberated through his chest.

Tomorrow was very far away.

That would have been good if Jungkook still felt the paralysing panic from a few days ago. But even though he still felt scared now, he had already braced himself for the emotional consequences of telling you about the bet. Delaying it—against his will, this time—felt excruciating.

He knew he was the one to blame – he kissed you in the park instead of telling you about it right away, and then he agreed to wait until tomorrow.

And maybe this was what he deserved. He should have told you. But he hesitated and tried to convince himself of all sorts of irrational thoughts—and now here he was.

Alone.

And he was so frightened of being alone that he climbed right back on the motorcycle and headed to the address of the rental shop that Minjun had given him. He needed to do something, because he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t scream at the top of his lungs, either.

Easily enough, Jungkook found himself in the bar of a hotel across the street from the rental shop. The shop didn’t open until eight, so he had a little over two hours before he could return the bike. A little over two hours before the night ended and he had to figure out what to do next.

He finished his first glass before a single thought could occur to him. By the second one, he felt his body start to relax, but chaos continued to reign in his mind.

What will I do, what will I do, what will I do?

As Jungkook lost track of how many drinks he had, he pondered every which way to reveal this to you and all the questions that you might ask.

What was the trip to Paris for? And the persistent way he followed you around? The conversation on the bridge in Stockholm? On the rooftop in Oslo? The bicycles in Amsterdam? The nights in your hotel room?

None of that was truly for the bet. But would it matter?

You said you loved him tonight. But you’d hate him tomorrow.

Maybe he could wait for five days until he formally lost the bet. Maybe he should tell you then. Maybe the fact that he lost something important to him would make up for—no.

Jungkook shook his head, nearly spilling the bourbon in his glass. He paused then, not even sure if he was still drinking bourbon. It all just tasted wet to him at that point.

Regardless, he couldn’t tell you after losing the bike. Even losing it didn’t seem like such a tragedy right now, compared to losing you.

While he agonised over it, the bartender continued bringing him drinks—always on the rocks, even though he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The bartender was a kind elderly man, who probably should have known better than to keep serving alcohol to someone at six in the morning, but his experience told him that Jungkook was someone who needed it tonight.

Soon, however, Jungkook’s pride—his high tolerance for alcohol—became his biggest foe. He didn’t even realise how intoxicated he had become.

For all intents and purposes, he believed he was still fairly sober, considering how easily he spilt everything that was bothering him to the bartender. He even understood the advice he received in return—not that there was much to it.

“You have to tell her, son.”

He did have to tell you. He knew that.

And he was going to, he decided. Right now.

Jungkook found his way out of the bar with relative ease. Sure, he forgot that he had driven Minjun’s bike there, but he was able to walk without stumbling much, and that surely had to be an achievement.

Swaying only slightly, he stopped in the lot where the bus was parked and found your contact in his phone. Of course, the many emojis he’d used ensured that your name was the first one on the list, but he still found it easily enough.

Now, he had to admit this: he wasn’t sure if you actually answered his call. But he asked you to please, come outside, and within three minutes, you were standing in front of him.

If he had been aware of how drunk he was, he would have realised that he was screaming, so it didn’t matter if you’d picked up his call or not. You would have heard him anyway.

“What’s going on?” you asked, too confused to feel worried. You’d just returned with Yoongi’s laptop about half an hour ago. You weren’t sure if you’d even fallen asleep before coming outside again. “Are you drunk?”

There was exhaustion in your posture that Jungkook was too drunk to identify. You were very tired of dealing with the problems of drunk people tonight.

When Jungkook spoke, words poured out before he could properly think them through.

“Listen,” he said. His tongue felt oversized in his mouth. “I have to tell you something. I can’t—I should’ve told you this a long time ago. Maybe on the same day. Actually,” he hiccupped, “I never should’ve done this at all, then there would be nothing to tell.”

He hesitated for a moment, because in his mind—which was positively swimming in whiskey—he worried that his words may have caused a misunderstanding. He saw the frown on your face and cut in before you started to speak.

“Actually, no,” he said. “There would be things to tell. Because I like—I really—I like to talk to you. I want to tell you all kinds of things...” he paused here. Shook his head. “But not this. I don’t want to tell you this. But I must.”

He thought he came off very determined here, very confident. Really, he just sounded tired and drunk.

“Jungkook,” you said. “When I said we’ll talk tomorrow, I meant in the morning.”

“It’s—” He hiccupped again. “It’s morning.”

He wasn’t wrong, of course.

“After we got some sleep,” you clarified.

“Well, I can’t wait that long,” he insisted, stomping his foot and throwing himself off-balance. He had to lean against the side of the bus to stay upright.

You could tell that whatever he wanted to tell you was far worse than you expected. He was so drunk that he could barely stand, yet he was as determined as ever to get it all out right now.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. The anxiety that you’d evaded was quick to resurface, and even you felt a little unsteady on your feet.

“Okay,” you said. “Well, what is it?”

Jungkook straightened as much as he could.

A deep inhale, followed by a sharp, rushed exhale.

“I made a bet with Sid that I’d get back together with you.”

Silence came next.

You felt a sinking sensation deep within you as if something—an invisible current—was pulling you under the surface of the water. The ground beneath you swirled in uncertain whirlpools.

“Sid said I couldn’t do it,” Jungkook continued after a moment, his eyes cast low. “And I was—I wanted to prove him wrong. He is wrong. He’s always wrong, he’s such a—anyday. I mean, anyway. T-that’s not—I didn’t—this isn’t making any sense.” He slapped himself on the forehead in newfound frustration and you flinched at the abrupt motion. The slap only made the truck stop start to spin around him. Pressing his hands to his hips, he tried to explain, “I didn’t win or anything. Which you obviously know, since we aren’t back together.”

He laughed sadly here. You narrowed your eyes and felt one of them twitch.

The night was cold, and you clutched your arms tighter around yourself. Your posture was not aggressive—you gazed somewhere past him and you appeared frightened. You looked as if the wind might snatch you and carry you off to a place that he could not reach.

But then your eyes met his and there was a frigid emptiness there that he didn’t recognise. He shrunk into himself when he noticed it.

“I-I bet my bike, so I lost that,” he continued. “Well, not yet, but I’m going to lose it soon. Not on purpose, but Sid won’t fucking let me end the bet—” he cut himself off by inhaling again.

It seemed like there was so much oxygen in his lungs—he kept breathing in as he spoke, but never breathing out.

“That’s not the point,” he finished his thought. “What I wanted to do—to say, I mean—is that I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid. Sid got in my head.”

“Sid,” you repeated suddenly. The sharp sound of your voice startled him into looking up. “Got in your head.”

He looked at you for half a heartbeat. Somewhere in the whiskey haze, he could recall his conversation with Taehyung—or someone who resembled Taehyung. Jungkook remembered something about this being his own responsibility.

But then, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who Taehyung even was. Because, to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who he was.

“That’s an—that’s… that’s an excuse,” he managed to say. The letter S tasted wrong in his mouth. He clicked his tongue and continued, “he’s always in my head. I should’ve known better. I—I’m so sorry.”

You were breathing heavily, but you weren’t speaking.

He blinked his heavy eyes, each one of his eyelashes like lead.

“I just… I want you to know that everything that happened—it wasn’t because of the bet,” he said, swallowing after a great struggle. All these drinks tonight, and his throat still felt dry. “It was because I am—I really have been in love with you the whole time, and I—but I couldn’t—I can’t ask you to get back together while there’s this bet going on. Not that you’d agree—I just hope that you would—but I... i-it wouldn’t feel fair. It’s so—it’s all so fucking stupid.”

He groaned again and covered his face with his hands for a moment while he tried to collect his thoughts. There was so much he wanted to tell you and all of it was coming out so quickly that he wasn’t sure he told you anything at all.

“I had to—I should’ve told you sooner,” he said. Then, biting his lip harder than he’d meant to—the metal piercing dug into it painfully—he added, more softly, “I’m really sorry.”

You remained firm in your position and really started to resemble a statue. Contrary to what he expected, you didn’t ask him a single question. You just stared at him without any distinct emotion in your eyes.

He didn’t know what to do.

“Aren’t you,” he said shakily, “going to say anything?”

You finally moved—to inhale, then exhale. All through it, your chin was turned up as you looked at the line of trees in the distance.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” you finally said.

It was a sharp knife to his chest, this hollow voice that was supposed to belong to you.

He hung his head and took a deep breath.

None of this mattered.

It was over.

“You’re drunk,” you added then. “Go to sleep.”

He thought he caught a glimpse of sympathy in your words and he grasped at this flimsy straw and held onto it with all his might.

“Y-you heard me, though, right?” he tried, his voice desperate, eyes watery. “None of it was for the bet, I really—”

“Go to sleep, Jungkook.”

He couldn’t go to sleep, not if it meant he’d have no one to wake up to.

“Can I—” He coughed, the words catching on the sandpaper in his throat. “Can I talk to you in the morning?”

You stayed silent for a long, almost never-ending minute. Jungkook counted each second in his head, and he knew he might have messed up the numbers at least three times, but it still felt like you’d never speak again.

“I don’t think,” you finally said, “we have anything left to talk about.”

You turned around, but stopped for less than a moment, seemingly hesitating when you heard him call your name. Then you took another step and opened the door of the bus, climbing inside and leaving him here alone.

This wasn’t the first time you walked away from him, but this time, he knew it was his fault.

And there was another element to the suffocating grip around his neck—ever since you began to manage Rated Riot, you’d never left him alone when he was drunk.

But you left him tonight.

And even drunk, he knew what it meant.

He thought he’d prepared himself for this. But the sight of your back as you walked away from him, the sound of the bus door as it clicked shut behind you, and the feeling of complete silence around him at the truck stop—it all finally knocked all the oxygen out of his lungs. It made his heart beat faster, ridding his bloodstream of alcohol until all that he felt was pain.

He was not prepared for this. He doubted he ever could have prepared for it.

But he should have known this would happen.

He really fucked up. He ruined everything. It was over.

Hunching over as he tried to inhale but couldn’t, Jungkook pressed his hand to his chest. He felt something pulsating under his fingers, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Someone had emptied out the cavity inside of him where his organs had once been and filled it with rocks.

His vision was white and blurred. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t stand.

He didn’t know what was happening to him.

He felt himself slide over the side of the bus until he hit the floor and smacked his head into the bus wall as violent tremors took over his body. He tried to breathe as he counted the beats of his heart until he couldn’t listen to his pulse whispering the same conclusion to him over and over again.

It was over.

It was—

His hand dug into the gravel on the ground, then grabbed the front of his shirt and held it in a tight fist. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Nothing worked to stop the relentless judgment from breaching his resistant mind.

He ruined everything. It was over.

Jungkook didn’t know how long he struggled to fill his lungs with something other than the heavy, opaque pain of losing you again.

He didn’t know why he struggled, nothing even mattered anymore.

When he eventually realised that he was still here and you still weren’t, there was an early morning redness in his eyes and on the edges of the sky above him.

Most unusually, the only clear thought in his head was about the bike that he’d told Minjun he would return. Another promise that he had failed to keep as he suddenly remembered abandoning the motorcycle by the bar.

Then he remembered the bar.

He had already drunk half of it.

He struggled to his feet, rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms, and went back to finish the other half.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “what do you want from me?”

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iamadequate1717 · 7 months

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Stede's Strange Day

I want to talk about Stede Bonnet's very strange day. Let's look at the progression of just what Stede sees.

He spends the night with his boyfriend for the first time, and his boyfriend brings him breakfast in bed like Doug did for Mary. They talk about their reunion. Stede is very happy right now!

His boyfriend tells him that he envisioned him as a beautiful merperson and that he thinks he saved his life.

They get dressed, and they go out on a breakfast date on the town. Stede tells Ed about the letters he wrote, and Ed loved that!

Stede then discovers he has a fanclub! Ed laughs and is happy for him! They're going to go down to Jackie's so Stede can enjoy this some more!

Ed throws in some light banter/teasing about this turn of events, and Stede literally squeals before they run off giggling together.

They get to Jackie's, and Ed continues to encourage Stede!

Ed leaves him to it! "Enjoy the night" are his parting words.

So Stede enjoys the night!

He's being accepted! And he still talks about his boyfriend while being fawned over!

Everyone tells him he's awesome! He offs an assassin while saying something cool! No one is making fun of him!

After a bit, he goes to find Ed to share in his fun! He's had a great day.

Only, he's immediately met with this with no context: Ed regrets being with him! Ed is leaving immediately!

Remember: Ed's last words to him were "Enjoy the night!" This is complete emotional whiplash. Stede knows right away what the problem is, but Ed shuts it down.

Ed wants to be a fisherman! A proclamation completely out of the blue! Stede tries to talk him down. That fish wasn't so awesome that it should completely change Ed's life trajectory, casting Stede out of the way.

Ed disagrees and abandons Stede with no real explanation or listening to what Stede was trying to say, which isn't a great move for a healthy relationship.

Basically, Stede spent a few hours (only a few hours!) enjoying himself (in a manner that Ed encouraged him to!). He did nothing awful (because murder is cool in this show), and was a lot tamer than what Ed and company were doing in 1x8 (turtle vs crab is mean!).

I'm going to go more into Stede defense in another post. "Last night was a mistake" is an egregious phrasing to use with the man you love who has self esteem and trauma issues (we know what he means but it can be interpreted much worse), but Stede took it in stride. But for some reason people act like Stede committed war crimes with the fish comment? Ed sharing his day and Ed excising himself from Stede's life are different contexts and the fish is viewed differently in each lens. It was an OK fish, and Stede did nothing wrong. Stede is right that Ed is a coward, and I don't think Stede saying a few slightly harsh things in the heat of the moment when being blindsided like this is a character flaw.

Ed behaved appallingly in shutting down the conversation and refusing to even give context to what was going on. With 1x9&10 and Stede deciding Ed was better off without him, I saw plenty of comments about how Stede couldn't make a major life decision for Ed like that. With this, Ed has made a major life decision for Stede (I'm going to dump him and remove myself before he can choose piracy over me!), but I have yet to see the same comments, and I know exactly why that is.

...

More Stede defense!:

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2e7 #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #miscommunication #stede did nothing wrong #ofmd #our flag means death #stede defense #ofmd 2x07

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everydayyoulovemeless · 2 months

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FO4 companions attempting to give Sole a haircut but they fuck it up really bad? I just got back from a horrible hairdresser visit and I need the cope

Fo4 Companions Accidentally Giving Sole A Bad Haircut

➼ Word Count » 0.8k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic, Hurt/Comfort? ➼ A/N » It's been a few months since you've requested this so I'm praying you're feeling better now!

You know MacCready messed something up when he begins chuckling nervously, rests a shaky hand on your shoulder, and starts talking way more than usual. He tries to stall you looking in the mirror for as long as possible but, when you eventually do, he’s biting his fist in awkwardness. He won’t lie, this is not his best work, but he never promised perfection. Nevertheless, he feels awful for what he’s done and will let you wear his hat to cover it until it grows back.

Nick will tell you flat out when he messes it up. He'll sigh apologetically, saying he should've just waited to have Ellie cut it or, I don't know, taking you to Kathy and John's Super Salon, right across the street from his agency. He doesn't do anything more to it and takes you straight to the salon to see if you can't salvage it. He feels awful about it, and will never touch your hair again.

Cait knows she isn't going to do a good job with it, but she doesn't tell you that and agrees to cut it anyway. Normally, when she wants to cut her hair, she'll just take any shape object she can get a hold of and start chopping away, and that's exactly what she does with you. She'll sit you down, pull out a pocket knife, and slice whole chunks off at a time. The worst part is that she's got no shame in it.

Preston will gasp quietly and cover his mouth with his hand. He refuses to move and will just stand there, completely still until you ask him what's wrong. He doesn't even know where to begin telling you how badly he's messed up and will instead, just apologize, rest his hands on the back of your shoulders, and rub reassuring circles into them with his thumbs. There are plenty of generals who don't have good hair! Nothing to fret over!

Codsworth will let out a silent 'Oh dear' and turn his buzzsaw off. Eventually, he'll begin reminding you of a separate time when you'd come back from the barber with you're hair all fucked, before explaining that he did exactly that. He tries to be light-hearted about it, but he's just as devastated as you are, possibly even more. He's a Mr. Handy, for Godsake! And he can't even do the basics!

Piper isn't even subtle about it. She'll just immediately begin comparing it to Atomites she's met through investigative journalism. She'll tell you that she's just giving you the 'wasteland special' and you shouldn't feel too upset about it. There are loads of people with this style! So, cheer up! It'll grow back!

Curie doesn't even realize she's messed anything up. In her opinion, any hairstyle any person has looks good. She doesn't quite understand the emotional attachment many people have toward it and just cuts it really short to help with mobility and whatnot. When you explain it to her, however, she starts to feel really guilty and will apologize nonstop.

Strong will just shave you bald. Now you look like him! What's there to be upset over? No support whatsoever from him.

Hancock will also just cut it with his knife, although, he's a lot more sympathetic than Cait. He'll hug you out of remorse and tell you it could be worse. You could be a ghoul and have no hair at all! Look at him! He can't even grow hair anymore so, don't feel too bad about it, alright?

Deacon will immediately fall to the ground in a squat, head in his hands as he simultaneously tries not to laugh or cry. He's cut his own hair so many times before with no issue - he cuts everyone in the Railroad's hair! - and it shatters him to know that he messed up on a craft he thought he perfected. He's supposed to be good at this! After a moment, he'll stand again and find you a wig in his collection for you to keep until your hair grows back. At least now the two of you can be wig buddies? Yay?

X6-88 will hum in defeat when he's messed it up before saying that he told you you should've gone to someone who actually knows how to cut hair. He can't comfort you for shit and probably just blames you for asking for help from someone who can't cut hair.

Old Longfellow knows how to cut hair. So, if he's messed it up, it means he was drunk. But, hey! Now you have a story to tell the folks at The Last Plank! So, he'll take you straight there so you can, hopefully, drink it off and laugh with the other regulars about it. No harm done!

Gage will tell you straight out that he's fucked it up badly, but he's not that concerned with it. If you seem upset, he'll just shrug and tell you it's not as bad as some of the other raiders in this place. If it bothers you that much, though, he'll get you a helmet for you to wear for the time being. It's safer for you anyway.

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casurlaub · 20 days

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Can we please agree that liking a character doesn't mean you have to explain away their every bad call? And that disliking a character doesn't mean you have to overlook their good qualities to have them fit your narrative? No one is just this or that. It's always a range.

The lack of nuance in parts of this fandom annoys me so much. And let's please drop the double standards - finding excuses for every 'bad' thing character A does while demonizing character B.

Dumbledore is no super villain. Yes, he put defeating Voldemort over Harry's (emotional) needs. He isn't some supportive father figure, but he's not responsible for the war nor everyone's decision to join in. 'He raised an army of children' - um no? Because if so, he, the greatest wizard of the age, did a shitty job. In both wizarding wars it was just one group of friends joining the Order, not a huge number of former students. So either super-smart Dumbledore seriously sucked at recruiting, or maybe he didn't try all that hard?

James wasn't some prime example of social justice warrior from the very beginning. Yes, he had - to some extent - a set moral code, he hated the Dark Arts, and he certainly never used dark curses on others. But he found it entertaining to hex students at random. He was a classic bully; he did it because he could and because he found it funny. He enjoyed it. But that doesn't mean he had no good traits - he cared for his friends, befriended Remus (practically an outcast), and later he changed. I can't get over the people who find excuses for Snape's bullying of his students, of literal children when he's an adult, but seem to think James was the worst person to ever exist.

Sirius has a ton of good qualities; I could write an essay about it. But guess what, that doesn't make the prank thing okay (no matter if Remus cared about it). The same goes for the Snape bullying and his condescending (cruel) behavior towards Peter. And his treatment of Kreacher, who was oppressed, not the oppressor. And why do we applaud him for 'forgiving' Remus in PoA for not trying to get him out of Azkaban? What's there to applaud? He was in Azkaban because he thought Remus was the spy, did we forget that? How do we expect Remus to suss out that Sirius thought himself clever enough to outsmart not only Voldemort but also Dumbledore? Sirius isn't on some moral high ground here. He wasn't in Azkaban because of Remus but because of his own arrogance and lapse of judgement.

Remus isn't some impersonated moral code. He isn't 'the sensible one' by default. He makes a ton of shitty, truly awful decisions (roaming Hogsmeade while a werewolf, not telling Dumbledore about the secret passages or Sirius's animagus form in PoA even after Sirius, the alleged mass murderer with an agenda of killing Harry, broke into Harry's dorm, abandoning Tonks...). But he isn't some master manipulator with a hidden agenda either. He was driven by his self-loathing first and foremost. And when did it become worse to be a bystander than to participate in the actual bullying? (I'm not saying it's okay, but how can we find excuses for James and Sirius, but Remus is super evil for doing... nothing? When it's stated that Snape was following him and trying to uncover his secret to get him expelled? Shocking he didn't feel all that sympathetic.) Of course he is passive-aggressive, of course he was selfish/cowardish, I don't know, but he isn't evil? He's usually kind (ffs, he even felt pity for Greyback), and his issues are in the end all rooted in his endless self-loathing. That doesn't excuse it. It doesn't. But it doesn't mean he's acting like he does because he's an inherently bad person. This idea of inherently 'bad' or 'good' people is naive and harmful anyhow. Besides - I feel some standards imposed on him are impossible to meet, when the same people are quick to explain away James's/Sirius's/Snape's flaws. Remus is suffering from massive childhood trauma that he's forced to relive every month, he's stigmatized for it by society his whole life, but he himself is supposed to just 'let it go'? Without therapy or anything? Right...

And even Lily isn't a saint. She's fighting back a smile when James is bullying her (supposedly) best friend?

Snape is no tragic hero whose every wrong is justified because he turned around and sacrificed himself. Of course, he was brave. Of course, he had a shitty childhood. That doesn't give him a free pass. He was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts when he arrived at Hogwarts already, he invented curses like Sectumsempra while at Hogwarts, he sold the 'love of his life' to Voldemort. And even after he 'changed' and overcame his fascist views, he bullied children he was supposed to take care of - as a grown man. Not only Harry, but also Neville, Hermione, Ron, who knows how many others. So, yeah, cool, he protected their lives 'when it counted' - 'when it counted'??? You don't belittle your students, you don't insult them, you don't threaten to poison their pets no matter what happened to you when you were a kid. You're an adult, take responsibility. Easy as that. What happened to you may be an explanation, but not an excuse. And do we really think he didn't strike back at James and Sirius? That it was just James and Sirius and him taking it lying down without doing anything himself? I don't.

It's entirely natural to relate more to one character than another and to feel more sympathetic towards them. But let's move away from this 'all or nothing' way of thinking.

To me, they're all beautiful because they're flawed. It makes them real. I don't want them to be stripped of their flaws, not even my favorite characters.

Don't take Sirius's darkness away, don't turn Remus into the ever gentle voice of reason or the super selfish master manipulator (same goes for Dumbledore) and ffs don't excuse Snape's fascist views and bullying of children.

#let them be morally grey #hp meta #albus dumbledore #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #severus snape #lily evans #marauders #marauders canon

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megumishotgf · 7 months

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comforting megumi after a nightmare

summary: as the title says! aged up gumi. my precious boy i just want him to be happy he deserves this type of comfort!!

warnings: manga spoilers (!!), possible mentions of depression and suicide (very small), canon divergence (i’m resurrecting people idgaf)

masterlist

megumi fushiguro has had a very difficult life.

his mother passed away when he was too young to even comprehend it happening, and his deadbeat father had abandoned him and sold him off to an unbearable clan, preferring to indulge in his gambling habits than family matters. despite being luckily (?) 'rescued' by gojo and growing up relatively normal, megumi has a whole lot of self-esteem issues that were embedded into his psyche at a shockingly young age.

megumi’s cold, unwelcoming and closed off from the world. that’s what he thinks. he was forced to mature and act older than he was to survive and protect himself and tsumiki, leading to the formation of many interpersonal barriers, which have restricted his relationships throughout his entire life.

jujutsu tech seemed like a fresh start. he met yuuji, nobara, you. you. you were different from everyone. megumi finally had people to care about, other than himself and his sister (and gojo too, although he will never admit it). but how many people has he witnessed die unspeakable deaths, some at his very own hands? how many people did he hurt when sukuna had taken over his body? how the hell did he even survive that? maybe he wasn’t even meant to.

nevertheless, in the cloudy, messy fragments of his broken mind, you were the sun. how could megumi ever think of leaving you? the one thing he is certain of is that you love him more than anything. you’ve never given him any reason to doubt that. while he doubts whether or not he is deserving of you, he knows you would have been broken if something happened to him. and so he keeps going, just for you.

it’s the middle of the night when megumi finally awakens from another awful nightmare. he had only been asleep for an hour maximum before those terrorising memories had plagued his mind again, replaying as constant reminders of who he had hurt and lost.

you’re still besides him, snuggled into his side, chest rising slowly and calmly. how can something so precious be able to sleep so peacefully next to someone like him?

megumi is too consumed in his thoughts to notice you stirring besides him, blinking away the sleepiness in your eyes. you take a few seconds to register that he’s wide awake and visibly panicked. you can feel the pounding of his heartbeat underneath the hand placed on his chest and he feels awfully shaky.

you sit up instantly, sensing that something’s wrong. “gumi? are you okay?”

megumi swallows thickly before answering, afraid that his voice might falter. refusing to lock eyes with you, he stares (sulks) at the ceiling above you. “mmh. sorry, baby. didn’t mean to wake you.”

you can see through his facade, though. you notice the way he’s trembling and how he's covering his face, as if you studying his features for too long will give away his misery. “hey. another bad dream?”

megumi hesitates for a moment, ultimately deciding this isn’t something he will be able to keep from you. you can see right through him. “yeah. again.”

you’ve been in this situation more times than you can count. you insist that these bad dreams and the thoughts that come along with them will eventually dissipate (after all, time is the best healer), but it's becoming increasingly difficult for the both of you. is your comfort enough? are you even helping megumi at all? what if this deteriorates into something worse? your mind is racing with your personal anxieties, and your own memories of the awful war, but megumi takes priority. you usher him to rest on your chest, while one of your hands begins to play with his hair. yeah, he loves that more than anything, that always helps.

“tell me what happened, hm?” you say softly. you don’t ever want to push him, but you also don’t want him to keep the dream himself, hoping that by confiding in you, you can take some of the heavy burden for yourself.

megumi hesitates again, but as he breathes in your familiar scent and focuses on the slow rhythm of your heartbeat, he feels the weight on his shoulders being lifted. “i… killed you. and yuuji. and ‘miki,” he recalls. it’s the same unbearable scene that’s played over and over in his unconscious mind like broken film, even if it’s been years since the initial trauma.

“sukuna,” you correct him, arms tightening around him. “you did nothing wrong, gumi. i’m here holding you, right? and yuuji and tsumiki are perfectly fine, too. sukuna won’t be able to hurt any of us ever again.”

“but you were hurt. one of you almost did die - at my own fucking hands.”

you can sense his anger now. megumi’s angry at himself. he thinks he’s so damn weak and that’s why people got hurt. you know that’s the way he sees himself and it kills you inside. you hush him before he can spiral any further into his angry thoughts, hands soothingly caressing his skin. gentle strokes of his upper arm - the kind of tender touches that can lull him to sleep and ground him.

“you were so young, megumi. you shouldn’t have had to carry such responsibility at that age. you have immense strength, mentally and physically. but sukuna’s actions are not your burden to carry. you were a victim, not the instigator. you’d give everything to us, the people you care about. and we love you. we know you’d never hurt us, yeah?”

you feel megumi nod against your chest. he’s grinding his teeth, blinking away unwanted tears that eventually fall onto your skin. your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him to look at you.

“humans cry, gumi. it’s okay. you don’t need to feel embarrassed, especially in front of me. come on, you’ve literally seen me sob uncontrollably during frozen.”

megumi chuckles at you and it feels like a breath of fresh air seeing him more light-hearted.

“see? you’re okay. you’re smiling again. you look so pretty,” you coo at your boyfriend. a blush tints his cheeks but he can’t stop the stupid grin that forms on his face.

“yeah, yeah. whatever. i’m okay now,” megumi replies, snuggling into your chest once more. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you won’t ever have to find out, baby. i’m always gonna be here,” you say, brushing away his hair so you can kiss his forehead. “do you wanna stay up a little more?”

megumi’s reaching for your laptop seconds later and that gives you your answer. he puts on frozen, of course. he cries like a baby when elsa and anna reunite, but it's okay because you're there to kiss his tears away.

yes i'm in my serious megumi brain rot era!! i have so many unfinished one-shots that will be coming soon because he refuses to leave my brain!!

#megumi x reader #megumi my beloved #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #megumi headcanons #megumi fluff #megumi comfort #i love him omfg

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weightgainworld · 4 months

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Lack of visibility in the feederism community

I saw a Reddit post about a lack of people of color in the feedism community, and I realized I want to expand on what I had as a reply. The issue is not a lack of POC in the community. There are lots of black male and female feedees, but they are often overshadowed or ignored. This is something that is always an issue in society, but it is more noticeable here since this is a community where not fitting the standard can lead to hate or being cased to the side. If you do not know any feedee of color or any race besides the norm, then I highly suggest you look for some. I would provide some, cause I would genuinely love to promote them. However, I do not want to include anyone in a post where the message is a sensitive topic like this. I might not get any hate or objections for it, but rather not take the rest and send toxic people are creators. I am sure we have all seen that happen time and time again. On the topic of being ostracized for being different, even when you fit the standard, there are always people who make it difficult to identify yourself in this kink space without fear of doxing. I and many others do not show our faces because of that fear. It sucks, I hate it and wish it would change. Not only does it make the community look smaller than it might be, but it does not lead to people feeling like this is an exclusive safe space. I am a feeder and feedee, but as a feeder, me and others need to remember how lucky we are to be able to engage in this space so easily without even showing a picture of ourselves. You can encourage or tease anyone with relative ease with just your words. Even on video, you don't have to show your face to feed someone else. A feedee does not have the same luxuries. You can be seen as fake for not wanting to share yourself, not like there are bad actors who add to those issues. However, it feels like you can not truly be a part of this community as a feedee unless you are showing your belly. I love this community, but who can honestly feel 100% safe when massive issues are coming from people who do not respect boundaries and hate being told they are doing something wrong? It is embarrassing to hear people call themselves feeders, and more importantly, members of this community, while also driving others away just because they do not answer a message fast enough. Back on the topic of POC. If you want to see more people in this space, we as a community need to be more welcoming to them. Some people are trying to do their best to create that space, but as a whole, we are failing. If I told you to name an African American feedee, of any gender, most couldn't even come up with a name. When it comes to ones who are even popular, I know 1 and only 1 that I could even say is the stereotypical definition of popular. That is not good. I won't act like I have been doing anything to make the space any easier to be a part of. I am not making it worse obviously, but inaction is still action. I hope while reading this, everyone in this community can continue this long journey of making it a better more inclusive place. Also, doesn't matter what size, gender, or race you are, you are a feedee. If that message wasn't strong enough from the beginning. Nobody gets to take that title away from you just because you wanted to lose weight or stop posting. Even if you never posted a picture or video, you belong here too.

#feedeism #feedee/feeder

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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 6 months

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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 91... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

This chapter was very interesting and quite informative...!! 😲

And though I was not too feeling well this morning (and I still feel a little unwell now), I still wanna discuss today's chapter...! So let's talk about it, shall we? 😊

This chapter begins with Anya heading off to school and Yor going to an event that her city hall job is helping with... And before they head off, they greet the Authens...! 😊

And I just love that Anya calls Sigmund and Barbara "Grandpa Siggy and Granny Barb"...! 😆 It's both so adorable and continues their new found relationship from the previous chapter!! 🤗

And this might be a little off topic, but I've noticed that we haven't really seen Twilight go to work since the mole arc... 😲 I mean, it could just be that we aren't seeing him go to work, but this also makes me wonder if WISE actually gave him a break for once! 😅

Anyway, back to chapter...!! 😁

At the event, we see Yor's coworkers, Dominic (who we haven't seen since Mission 24 I believe, which was FOREVER AGO 😵) and even McMahon...!! 😁 The event is a charity event to help disabled veterans and the Lady Patriots Society is gonna be there... Hearing that, Yor remembers that Melinda is apart of that group:

Yor tells her coworkers that she's met Melinda and is even her friend, but they believe her and Dominic even suggests that she might not even show up. Then...:

We see that Millie has an issue with being here... But then, these ladies from the Lady Patriots Society started to butt in, even saying things like this:

This saddens me because I know that there are people that are like this in real life that belittle others because "they had it worse"... Though not everyone has suffered through the horrors of war, it doesn't mean that what they've been through is less painful...

After that, Millie shares her thoughts...:

...And those women start to berate her...:

But my girl Yor steps in to defend Millie...!:

Then one those horrible women were going to attack them, but Melinda steps in to stop her...!

Yor's coworkers see that Yor was telling the truth about her and Melinda being friends, but Millie gets upset by this... In Millie's eyes, since Melinda is the wife of Donovan Desmond, the man who started the war, then Yor is not a good person for being associated with her... But, McMahon refutes Millie's claims about Donovan...:

This is a very interesting development... 🤔 If memory serves me right, we've never truly gotten confirmation about how started the war, but we knew that Donovan was involved with it... I feel like there's something else going on here, but my brain is really jumbled up today from being sick to really think on about this development for to much...! 😩

Melinda then adds this:

Millie then apologizes to Melinda, and decides to stay and help out the event... Lastly, Millie thanks Yor for helping her out today and makes me hope that they'll become true friends in the future...!! 💗

And that was Mission 91, it made love Millie as a character more than before and even Melinda a little as well...!! 😄 This chapter was quite the serious one, so not that many funny moments time around, but that's what I love about this series...!! 🤗 Endo always seems to maintain a fantastic balance of serious and comedic moments in my opinion, that's why I feel that Spy X Family is unlike any other...!! 💗

I really wanted this review come out sooner, but I woke up feeling horrible... I know I don't have to release something about the new chapter on the day it comes out, but I have a bad habit of procrastinating projects, and these reviews are my way push out of that habit, by making myself write a review before it gets too late it the day...! I typically get mad at myself for missing the deadline that I set for myself, but since the next chapter comes out on Christmas Eve, I might postpone my review until Tuesday the 26th because Christmas is my favorite holiday, but we'll see...! 😉

Sorry for rambling about my personal stuff, but I'll see you all tomorrow when I talk about the anime because I should probably lay back down and try to feel better!! 😷 So until the next Mission, take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! BYE!! 👋

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #spy x family spoilers #spy x family manga #sxf manga #spyxfamily manga #Mission 91 #yor forger #melinda desmond #sxf millie #sxf camila #sxf sharon #sxf domimic #matthew mcmahon #This chapter singlehandedly made me like Millie as character...!#I just love all the layers that Endo gives his characters...!! 😊#A lot of interest info this time around... 🤔#manga spoilers

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juneisafantasyaddict · 1 year

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The writers of the SaB show seem to be pulling the exact same shit that lb did in the books. because there’s no way they think ignoring everything the grisha have been forced to endure, pretending that the darkling is the beginning and end of their issues and ravka’s, making sure alina never understands what she’s actually fighting for, etc is going to do anything except make me root for the darkling even more.

The entire second season gives me flashbacks to that insane trilogy because somehow they managed to be even worse than the books. they have alina telling the darkling that he doesn’t understand sacrifice?? really??? a man who has spent centuries of his life fighting for the betterment of his people doesn’t understand sacrifice?? the person who literally made protecting grisha his life goal doesn’t understand sacrifice??? does alina realize that the only reason she wasn’t killed the moment she was discovered was because of him?? because of the work he has done??

They had time for baghra to tell stories about her crazy family and how she killed her sister, but there was no time for her to say “this is what life was like before my son decided he was going to make it better for our kind?” if anything, they just pissed me off more because how the fuck is it possible that they are pretending the biggest issue they have is the darkling?? not the monarchy that has exploited grisha and ravka, not the fjerdans who hunt and kill grisha, not shu han who experiments on them??

Sigh, I can’t even write out my thoughts coherently because I’m so irritated by pretty much everything that happened this season. I’m irritated that instead of telling a complex story, we got this dumbed down garbage that tells us nothing, accomplishes nothing beyond “guy in black is bad.” the narrative condemns him for using merzost because he was so desperate to save his people, he tried forbidden magic, but 20 seconds later the hero is using that same forbidden power to bring her boyfriend back to life??? With zero repercussions?? I want to scream!!

If the narrative is so sure they are right, if they are so sure the darkling is wrong about everything, then why are they so afraid to expose the hero to the suffering of her people?? Let her see what they have to deal with, let her truly understand then. She has been a grisha for less than a year, and somehow she knows what’s best for them?? She doesn’t even know them. The show writers literally spent this season making her chase Mal around. Look what happened when they were going after the seawhip, two people died because she didn’t want to kill it, but they moment it went after Mal, suddenly killing it was ok. Her side of the war got attacked and instead of checking to make sure everyone was ok, including her friend’s brother who was literally about to lose his arm, she was screaming about Mal. You want to tell me about sacrifice?? She only cared about one person, and he was perfectly fine at the end. What does she know about sacrifice?? Why oh why is this fucking story just so determined to make her make all the worst possible decisions??

Incase you haven’t noticed, I haven’t talked about the crows at all, because I hate their presence in this story. They are a distraction!!! The grisha are fighting for their right to exist, Ravka is in the middle of a civil war, I do not have the time to follow the shenanigans of a group of criminals from a different country. I still don’t understand their purpose in this story, except comic relief?? 🤦🏽‍♀️

I love Alina, I really do, but jfc you cannot girl boss your way out of real solutions. They have her basically serving the monarchy and the whole time I kept thinking, if I were grisha, I wouldn’t follow her. She’s the leader of the second army but she’s wearing a first army uniform, she’s more interested in protecting the Lanstov throne than she is in protecting her people. She’s so blinded by everyone saying “the darkling is bad, the fold needs to go” she’s not stopping to say “what happens when the fold is gone?” “What happens after the war?” Because surely, she isn’t naive enough to think the people who started killing grisha as soon as they thought the darkling was gone are going to live peacefully with them now?? It took 2 seconds after the darkling died for Fjerda to send an assassin on jurda parem into ravka. Now that there’s no fold to stop them, what will stop Fjerda or Shu Han from sending an army?? Ignoring everything else the crows did, Kaz was right when he said “when they stop looking at her with gratitude, they’ll start to wonder if she hasn’t overstayed her welcome.” Which is basically what Aleksander kept saying btw, they are not going to love you for long, they are going to hate you eventually because they are afraid of what they don’t understand.

I don’t even know what the point of this was, but yeah, I guess it was a rant about how Fucking ridiculous season 2 of shadow and bone was.

#darklina #alina starkov #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #the darkling #sab s2 spoilers #sab s2 #everyone involved in the writing of this story should have their head checked

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idyllic-affections · 1 year

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invisible disability? it's rather visible to me.

summary. baizhu knows the struggle of maintaining a job while being chronically ill; as such, he is willing to offer an accommodating work environment for others who struggle like he does.

trigger & content warnings. angst (at first... it gets better i swear /lh), ableism, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort. baizhu & chronically ill!teen!reader, qiqi & reader. 1.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. he's out of nonplayable prison ygs!!!!! can't wait to see his character stories for..... personal reasons..... anyways i want to specify that i am chronically ill. i am constantly fighting with my genetics to be healthy, its ridiculous LMAO

imagine baizhu employing a chronically ill, visionless teenager.

baizhu can easily say he's known their family for a long time, so he of course knows that they have trouble keeping a job. they often mention little things like that about their life during their visits with him. never once has he found anything wrong with them; they're always in virtually perfect health.

that doesn't change the fact that they're very clearly struggling. he's observed just how much they overexert themselves in a desperate attempt to actually keep a stable job, simply to help support their family, but all the exertion only seems to make their invisible issues worse.

also... they've been in his care for heat stroke more than once in liyue's warmer seasons. the heat is just far too much for their body to handle if they aren't careful.

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

Their voice was so quiet and whispery that if Baizhu hadn't been attuned closely to them at that moment, he might have missed it. They half wished that he would have. Based on the brief glance he spared in their direction, they knew he was listening. Oh well.

"I mean... really. This is ridiculous," they murmured, knees drawn up against their chest. "Everyone thinks I'm just dramatic. I'm not. I do fine for the most part, but then it just... gets bad for no reason at all... how am I in perfect health?"

By that point in their rant, his undivided attention was on them. Though his gaze was thoughtful, musing, they interpreted it differently and winced slightly.

"...Sorry. I really shouldn't be complaining like this in front of someone who's chronically ill."

"No, it's quite alright. You shouldn't minimize your pain. Your struggles are as valid as mine. I find your trust, your ability to confide in me, quite endearing, even," he reassured, unbothered, to which their shoulders seemed to lose some of the tension they harbored. "In fact... I've been thinking about this for quite some time now. Chronic illness may show itself in a variety of forms. Sometimes it may show itself in the form of your symptoms. Would you like to learn how to manage your energy better?"

the liyuean doctor basically hired them right then and there, but they don't really realize that for the first few weeks.

in the beginning, they're just... spending time at bubu pharmacy, learning how baizhu manages his own limited energy and applying those techniques to their own life (it works shockingly well). that's all!

it slowly turns into them helping out where they can—packaging herbs, learning what exactly each one of them does, delivering prescriptions to those who cannot physically get the medicines themselves... even when people start to question if they've found a new job, they remain oblivious.

it's one day while helping mince herbs that they realize they're basically a junior herbalist.

A soft hiss left their lips when the knife nicked the pad of their finger. They were quick to put pressure on the little cut, pulling their hand away from the countertop to prevent any blood from dripping onto it.

"It's best to get rid of those herbs," Baizhu reminded, stepping away from his own work to gently bandage their wound.

A small pout graced their lips. "I didn't get any blood on them, though..."

Amusement and the vaguest hint of fondness twinkled in his gaze. "We don't know that for certain, do we, now?"

"...Wait a minute." Their eyes narrowed suspicously at him, drawing their freshly-dressed hand back once he was done. "This isn't about energy management anymore, is it? Have I been... I've been working here this entire time. These tasks are very employee-like."

"Come, now. Don't look at me like that. You were looking for a stable job, and I am more than willing to accomodate your needs."

"You could've at least said something to me. I've been doing free labor all this time, and as a child, no less! Hmm... now, I do believe that is illegal in this part of Teyvat~ It'd be shame to get Ms. Yanfei involved~"

in the spirit teaching them to manage their energy, he often takes them on house calls with him, starting off to just homes in liyue harbor and later to homes all the way in qingce village. it's a good way for them to gain stamina and get a better understanding of their job.

baizhu has a tendency to smile through his own pain for the sake of his patients.

this habit slipped by unchecked until [name] came around.

whenever they feel like he isn't doing very well, they'll take over for him regardless of what he has to say about it.

herbalist gui is very thankful for them—baizhu hardly ever listened to him, but he does take better care of himself for [name]'s sake.

(he swears that baizhu is oddly parental when it comes to them, but he wouldn't dare mention the doctor's blatant affections to his face.)

"welcome to bubu pharmacy," they'd greet with a kind smile after unceremoniously shoving baizhu towards the back of the pharmacy where he could rest undisturbed, "unfortunately, dr. baizhu is currently out of commission, but herbalist gui and i would be glad to take care of anything you may need."

sometimes changsheng can be seen wrapped around their arm! usually it's their dominant arm, which is terribly inconveniencing. still, it would be an honor to be Chosen™ by their loved one's pet... if only she wasn't so mean to them.

"Hmph. You're terrible at cutting herbs. It pains me just to watch."

"Okay? Go back to Dr. Baizhu then? I'm not holding you hostage, Changsheng. You came to me," they huffed. "Also... maybe I'd be able to cut better if you weren't strangling my dominant arm. Just saying."

It's a few moments later that they're sulking, murmuring curses as Baizhu disinfected their fresh snake bite. Changsheng completely neglected to apologize until Baizhu had prompted her to.

(They would complain that he found that incident a little too funny if anyone were to ask them. It really hurt, you know!)

changsheng bullies them lovingly <3 she bites them affectionately <33

(not that she'd ever say that, though. baizhu knows. he just chooses to let her believe he doesn't know.)

qiqi becomes very attached to them very quickly, i think. she'd like having a nice older sibling around and would address them as such without even thinking about it. "jiějiě," "gēgē"... she can't really tell what gender they identify closer with and doesn't remember to ask, so she tends to bounce between the two terms of address.

she has an entire page in her journal dedicated to little things about [name] that she deems to be important. she notes down things they seem to like, things they seem to dislike, their birthday, other important dates, defining features...

she also keeps important warning signs related to health episodes of their's jotted down, like how when [name] stands still a little too long, qiqi should urge them to sit for a moment because they're probably either dizzy or having vision issues, or how when their hands begin to tremble, qiqi should share a sunsettia with them.

she does miss these signs sometimes... she does her best, though! qiqi only wants to help the sweet junior herbalist that braids her hair and accompanies her on her herb-picking trips and hugs her and says "i love you, please stop this task, you might get hurt" with so much genuine affection that it often overwhelms her :(

it's rare, but sometimes, there will be a customer or patient that has little tolerance for their disability-induced weakness or slowness.

because their illness(es) is(/are) invisible, very few people take their struggles seriously.

some people take this as an excuse to verbally and even physically abuse them.

baizhu does not take kindly to people abusing his employees, especially not his chronically ill teenage employee. especially not them.

"Is there an issue I can help with?"

They didn't mind being the only one at reception during the days Herbalist Gui was out, Qiqi was herb-picking, and Baizhu was otherwise occupied. It wasn't a big deal, really.

At least... not until someone particularly impatient decided to make their job difficult.

Baizhu never took kindly to such incidents; this one was no different. Based on his tone of voice alone, it wasn't hard to guess that he was livid, golden irises alight with rage. Even Changsheng had hissed in their defense at the sight in front of her eyes.

He'd come back just in time to see them flinch away from the raised hand of some foreign adventurer.

"This one—"

"And who said I was asking you?" he scoffed, sliding behind the counter and checking them for wounds. They were shaking, he noted, gingerly supporting a fraction of their weight in case they were to collapse. "I was asking my herbalist, [Name]."

Baizhu was a man of patience and, really...

He wasn't all that confrontational. Despite that, any semblance of the supposed cowardice he harbored was gone in an instant.

His scarred fingers drew soothing shapes on their upper arm as he led them into the back of the clinic, guiding them to sit on one of the beds before their legs could give out.

"Are you alright?"

baizhu takes very good care of them after stressful encounters because he knows very well that such high-stress emotional experiences will take a toll on their body.

whenever a wealthier patient comes in, they've learned to overcharge them on purpose even if it's for the most ridiculous of ailments; oh? you say you have been sneezing quite a lot and are having a hard time breathing? no, no, it's not springtime allergies, who told you that? it's quite dire, in fact, and the treatment price will be awfully expensive... oh? you'll pay it? wonderful!

^ herbalist gui says that baizhu is a terrible influence on them sometimes.

in their defense, they get hefty bonuses every time wealthy people pay ridiculous prices for typically rather inexpensive herbs (like a certain ginger harbinger did one time! they still giggle at the memory of him paying so much for so little). the more wealthy people pay, the bigger their bonuses (fatui harbingers are very wealthy...).

simply put, they make more mora than the majority of their family put together because of this morally dubious behavior.

baizhu, gui, qiqi, and [name] are a chaotic found family but yk what? they all make it work <3

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#: [ the junior herbalist! 🌸 ]#baizhu x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #baizhu x you #baizhu x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #qiqi x reader #platonic qiqi x reader

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autumnshighlady · 4 months

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This Is Me Trying

Cassian x Nesta

summary: It's been a few months since Nesta and Cassian have made things official, but things have only gotten worse for Nesta.

warnings: ANGST! slight inner circle slander, no happy ending, not super pro-Nessian

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this fic is based on 'This Is Me Trying' by Taylor Swift, also spot the Grey's Anatomy quote hehe. This fic is basically me working out my own relationship issues haha, so it was pretty emotional to write because I'm basically Nesta in this situation and it's rough. But I also truly think this is a more realistic version of Nessian than the one sjm tried to shove down out throats in ACOSF.

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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Nesta sighed as Cassian’s arm squeezed around her shoulders, squishing her farther into him than humanly possible. He belted out a laugh at whatever Mor had said, a deafening noise next to Nesta’s ear. His touch felt like acid on her skin, and all she wanted to do was get away from it.

Nesta had been trying her hardest to communicate her feelings with Cassian, she truly had. But it was hard – everything she said seemed to leave his brain the second he was around the Inner Circle, like they were now. Nesta was at one end of the couch with Cassian to her right, and Elain on Cassian’s left. Feyre was sitting on an armchair across from them with Nyx in her arms, in Rhys’s lap, while Mor and Amren were perched on cushions by the fireplace. Azriel was sitting a bit behind Rhys and Feyre on a stool, quietly observing the scene. A couple hours ago, Nesta had pulled Cassian aside and explained that she was having an overwhelming day, and requested he not touch her for the night. She couldn’t explain why she felt that way – she tried, and nothing came out. All she wanted was some physical space from Cassian’s presence. The male had sworn he understood, and said he would give her space.

That had lasted all of 20 minutes into the evening before he slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her body into his. He had failed to notice how Nesta froze, rather than relaxing into his touch as usual. She knew it wasn’t malicious, that he wasn’t deliberately ignoring her request. He had just simply… forgot.

And this wasn’t the first time she felt suffocated and trapped by Cassian. Guilt plagued her, knowing he truly didn’t mean to do it, he was just trying to show his affection. For a while, Nesta thought that the Cauldron had mated them under the premise of opposites attract. Cassian was extroverted and wore his heart on his sleeve, easily making friends and jumping into any conversation or group. Nesta was an introvert, preferring to mask everything she felt, both good and bad. She did not have that confident ease about her, nor did she feel inclined to befriend everyone she met or chat their ear off. She was perfectly content to be more like Azriel, sitting and observing rather than participating.

But maybe there was such a thing as people being too opposite for it to work out.

Nesta had felt like she was drowning in the Cauldron all over again, slowly being backed into a corner and suffocating under Cassian’s constant presence and need for her attention. Now that they were officially together, he was everywhere. Cassian had lightened his duties in Illyria to spend more time with Nesta, which only made it worse. At first she had found it sweet, but as the weeks passed it became more irritating.

Cassian was supposed to love her. Surely, someone who loved her would be able to understand her enough to know that this wasn’t what she wanted? He was always trying to find different things to do with Nesta, and it was beginning to get overwhelming. It hurt her heart to see how enthusiastic he was, how badly he wanted to make her happy. She was disgusted with herself for not feeling the same, for wanting to fight and pull away.

Her youngest sister’s voice brought her attention back. “Do you have anything to add, Nesta?”

Nesta blinked, not having heard a word of what was said. “To what?”

Feyre sighed. “We were just talking about building another home for me, Rhys, and Nyx in the mountains, since you and Cassian basically live at the House of Wind now. What do you think?”

The room was tense, everyone frozen as they awaited Nesta’s reply. If she was in a better mood, she would have chuckled inwardly. No matter what she did, no matter how many times she proved herself to them, the Inner Circle would always see her as a rabid monster waiting for a chance to lash out. Perhaps if it were another day she’d entertain them, just to show that she hadn’t lost her bite. But she had no energy today. “Sounds like a great idea.” She said simply.

Everyone visibly relaxed, relieved that Nesta hadn’t made a snide comment about how many houses Feyre and Rhys had, even though she wanted to. Cassian patted her arm proudly, as if to say look how much more docile and well-mannered she is now, thanks to me. Realistically, Nesta knew that wasn’t actually what he was thinking, but it sure felt like it. Only Feyre gave her a strange look, as if she could sense something wrong.

“So, Nesta,” Rhys said smoothly. “Cassian tells me you’ve gotten pretty good in the sparring ring.”

Nesta’s mouth was dry, the hot air from the room closing in on her. “I’ve improved, yes.” She managed a reply, earning another squeeze from Cassian that tightened her throat even more.

She hadn’t wanted to be touched at all tonight, yet he was doing it anyway without even thinking.

“It’s been a while since I’ve practiced, you could probably give me a run for my money.” The High Lord chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

Again, everyone anxiously waited for Nesta to challenge him, to cause a scene and ruin the evening for the group. It made her feel physically sick, how she felt like she was drowning all over again and not only had Cassian not noticed, but the Inner Circle seemed to like her better this way – a shell of the female she was before, a quieter version.

“I think Rhys is challenging you, sweetheart.” Cassian chuckled. “Go on, go kick his sorry ass.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.” Nesta said quietly, but it was too late. Mor and Amren had stood up, moving over to where Azriel sat in the back to clear the space on the large rug by the fireplace. Feyre had climbed off Rhys’s lap, too, taking Nyx with her and handing her to Elain as she joined everyone over by Azriel.

Rhys down the rest of his wine and stood up, pushing his chair back and wiping invisible dust off his sleeves. “Come on, Nesta. Show me what you got.”

The room began to close in on Nesta even more, the air stifling and catching in her throat like sandpaper.

“It’s fine, really.” Nesta insisted, but was interrupted by Cassian gently shoving her to her feet.

“My girl is gonna make you eat dirt, brother.” Cassian said as he pushed Nesta up onto her unsteady feet.

More cheers from the females by Azriel began to sound up, all urging Nesta to show off her skills. It should have felt endearing, and she should have felt more excited at the opportunity to punch her annoying brother-in-law in his face. But all she could feel was suffocation, like she was back in front of her mother’s cruel gaze being forced to perform for people that did not care for her. An object, a plaything to be used to entertain others then put back in its box when they were done with her.

“No.” Nesta’s voice was barely above a whisper, unheard amongst the loud cheers.

“Nesta, Nesta, Nesta!” Feyre and Elain chanted from the background, egging her on. But she was frozen, arms slack at her sides.

“Come on, Nes!” Cassian barked playfully. “You’re acting like I haven’t taught you anything. Come on, do it for me–”

“I said NO.” Nesta snapped, her sharp voice silencing the room as she whirled around to face Cassian. He stared at her, eyes wide with shock.

“It’s all in good fun,” He said, brows furrowed in confusion. “He won’t actually hurt you. Besides, when else are you going to get the chance to–”

Nesta cut him off, her anger bubbling over the surface like a volcano that had waited centuries to finally erupt. “What part of the word ‘no’ suddenly means ‘convince me’?” She demanded.

Nobody said a word. Disappointment was written all over Cassian’s face. Amren snorted in the background, her whisper pointedly loud as she said, “I guess some people will never change, even after being spat out by the Cauldron.”

Tears burned in Nesta’s eyes, but she refused to let them see. Wordlessly, she stormed past everyone, making her way to the door of the river house. She hadn’t even made three steps out into the street before it opened up again behind her, heavy footsteps crunching in the snow.

“What the fuck, Nesta?” Cassian demanded, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.

“Let go of me.” She spat, trying to rip her arm from his grip. But he only held on tighter.

“We were having fun, what’s wrong with you?”

“Cassian, let go of my arm right fucking NOW.”

The male glared at her, but obliged. Nesta yanked her arm back to her side, rubbing the now sore area. Annoyance seeped from the male as he ran a hand through his hair. “The night was going well,” He grumbled. “It was all going well until you made a scene. For once in your life, Nesta, can’t you just try?”

“This IS me trying!” Nesta shouted, his words stabbing her harder than any knife could. After everything she had opened up to Cassian about, how could he not see that she was trying her best? That she was trying to make him happy by going along with his obscure date ideas, putting on a happy face being dragged to dinner with the Inner Circle even though they basically locked her up after the war?

“Well you’re not trying hard enough!” Cassian’s words hit her like a truck. The tears she had been fighting to keep back began to stream down her cheeks like icicles in the frozen wind. “Fuck, I’ve tried to hard to convince my family to give you a chance after how you treated them. I’ve gone out out of my way to make you happy, and this is what you fucking do? We all try so hard for you, and you won’t try at all.”

Nesta couldn’t stop herself from flinching at his words. Her brain screamed at her to yell back at Cassian, to bring out those claws she spent the last few months trying to rid herself of. But she couldn’t. She was exhausted, tired of pretending to be as happy as Cassian was. It sucked the life out of her, chipping at her away piece by piece until she felt empty inside. Her old self would be ashamed of how submissive she had become.

Cassian sighed, rubbing his face, and taking a step towards Nesta. He held his hands out to hold her. “Nesta, I’m so sorry–”

He stopped speaking when Nesta took a step back, shying from his touch. His hazel eyes were filled with hurt and confusion, and she sighed. “Cassian,” She said slowly. “Did you not remember how I asked you not to touch me tonight?”

The Illyrian’s brow furrowed in confusion, then softened as the realization dawned on him. “Is that what this is about?”

Nesta sighed, another tear rolling down her cheek. “Not just that–”

He interrupted her. “I completely forgot, Nes I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off?”

“Because I shouldn’t have to. You should have remembered to respect my basic wishes. You don’t listen to me, Cassian. You hear me, but you don’t listen.”

Cassian sat down on the steps by the door, wings drooping in sadness. But she felt no pity for him, only anger. He was the one who didn’t listen to her when she asked not to be touched, who ignored her when she protested sparring with Rhys, but he was somehow the victim too? It made her blood sing with anger. “I tell you not to touch me because I’m having a bad day, and you pull me into your lap like a dog,” She continued icily. “I tell you I don’t want to do something, and instead of respecting that, you try to force me to do it for everyone’s entertainment. You know damn well that Rhys has never liked me, and how he meant it when he threatened to kill me a few months ago. And yet you pushed me to try and fight him anyways.”

Cassian stared at the frozen ground. Nesta could practically feel his confusion, a raging sea of emotions written all over his face. The wind blew his hair into his face, a sight that Nesta would have found beautiful once. But now it only filled her with sadness. She had bent herself backwards trying to become ‘worthy’ of Cassian in his and his family’s eyes, cursing herself alone at night and thinking she was the problem. Cassian was an objectively good male – loving, affectionate, good in the bedroom. Any female would be lucky to have him, so why wasn’t Nesta happy?

The answer had been deep down inside her, trying to claw its way to the surface, begging for Nesta to acknowledge it. And then it washed over her one day – everyone was quick to assume that she was the one at fault in the relationship, not Cassian. And somewhere along the way, she had convinced herself of that too, pushing down her gut feelings for the sake of trying to make it work with the general. She knew that her words shot to kill when she was mad, and she often couldn’t stop them no matter how much regret they filled her with. But when Cassian had come along, she learned to hold her tongue, to push back those claws inside her. The issue was that in the process of doing so, Nesta had begun holding her tongue more often than needed, bearing the facade of a female submitting to her mate just like everyone wanted.

Nesta had finally been de-clawed, Cassian wearing her talons around his neck like a trophy. She felt like an open wound at every party, her former self slowly oozing out of the gaps in flesh Cassian had clawed from her. And the worst part was, everyone liked her better this way. But she felt the opposite of better, she felt suffocated and empty.

“I understand you are trying to push me out of my comfort zone,” Nesta continued through tears, swallowing the thick lump in her throat. “And I appreciate it because sometimes that is needed. But you’ve pushed too hard, Cassian.”

“I only wanted what was best for you.” Cassian said dully.

She scoffed. “And how would you know what’s best for me when you never asked me? What, you just assume because we’re together you have some sort of decision-making capacity over me? That you have any idea what’s going through my head, what I’m feeling, or even what I want?”

Cassian stood up, taking a step towards Nesta. She stepped back again, wanting to keep the space between them and not caring about the hurt that flashed across Cassian’s face. “I know you, Nes.” He said softly. “And I love you.”

“No, you don’t.” The wet spots on her cheeks began to freeze over in the cold wind. “You love the idea of me. You love being with me, having me by your side. But you don’t truly know me, Cassian. And you don’t truly love me. You just think you do.”

The hurt swimming in Cassian’s eyes churned into anger. “You’re kidding, right? So you mean the past five months we’ve spent together have been nothing? That I truly didn’t get to know you at all in that time?”

“You’re 500 years older than me, Cassian. Five months is a blink of an eye in your lifetime. So no, you didn’t truly get to know me in that time.”

Cassian scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. But Nesta continued. “The only reason you think you got to know me was because others forced us into each other’s proximity. I did not come to spend time with you on my own free will. And I was isolated from everyone and everything, except for you. In that time, Cassian you… you took something from me. You took little pieces of me - little pieces over time, so small I didn't even notice. You wanted me to be something I wasn't, and I made myself into what you wanted. And I let you, because I thought I could make you happy that way. But it will never happen again. I am done changing who I am to make myself ‘worthy’ of you.”

Nesta turned around, not waiting to hear his response as she strode down the snow covered cobblestone. There was no towering presence following after her, much to her relief. She did not go back to the River House, or in the direction of the House of Wind. Truthfully, Nesta had no clue where she was going, only that she was done letting herself fall apart to please people who would never love her for who she truly is.

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nessian fic #nesta archeron fic #nessian angst #acosf #acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #rhysand #feyre archeron #azriel #sjm

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rainyestcloud · 4 months

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MAG146: Threshold. An Excruciatingly Deep Analysis. Word Count: 6702 .

The Final scene in mag146 is something i think about often. It wasn't a scene of the three assistants confronting Jon at Martin's behest, it was a scene of desperation for a tangible target that couldn't overpower them the way every other monster had, that could be loosely quantified as deserving every ugly emotion they've had to direct inwards. I think a large part of season four as a whole, is the lack of a "big bad guy" and how the absence of one big pure evil enemy can actually. make things worse sometimes. because back when Elias was present everyone had someone to blame. all their anger about their respective situations could be tied back to Elias and so everyone had common ground in their hatred for him, they had an outlet. Tim and Melanie both lashed out at almost everyone but in the end it was Elias Melanie tried to kill multiple times. It was Elias that Tim's rage always traced back to, and they he held as the true evil until his bitter end. Basira could blame Elias since he's the one who practically forced her into joining the institute to save Daisy. It made things easy. It was simple because it's so easy to direct all your hatred towards the person who's the obvious big bad antagonist. But as soon as Elias was not present anymore, none of them had that outlet anymore. That's a large part of the reason that Jon’s the one being scapegoated. He's the only one with no connection to them all. And the only one they can safely turn their rage towards. Basira and Daisy have a bond near unbreakable due to their history, Melanie and Basira went through the trauma of the Flesh attack together, Daisy and Melanie have the common thread of both being people attempting redemption despite it being what feels like their nature. And through this, they all have something connecting them all. With Jon, there's a lacking in that common thread. Especially since it was Tim who saved everyone from the unknowing. Plus, what makes Jon easy, is the fact that they can trace even just the littlest something involved with him. The point is, when Elias was there, everyone had something they could tie reeeally directly to their issues. But now thats he’s not. Jons the next closest thing. And many aspects about who he is as a person makes it ever so easier to put blame on him. Not only is he non confrontational and self blaming, so he doesn't have it in him to be a danger to anyone who may confront him. But, with the rapid deterioration of his mental state, he's been making bad decisions. He's been unintentionally hurting a few innocent people. And those two things combined are just enough to make him the perfect replacement outlet. Because god with everything they're going through they need something. Because, all in all, it's nobody's fault. And that is the hardest fact for anyone in their situation to accept. Because blame is easy. Blame is simple and blame lets you cast all your misfortunes onto one person without having to take painful responsibility for them. And right now? Fate is the one at fault. Everything is being subtly influenced by the web in a way that simply makes it so fate was the sole decider all along. The end was decided from the beginning. Nothing could have helped that fact. Everybody wound up in their positions because fate deemed them unlucky souls and no matter what they hoped or dreamed or wished to do there was nothing that could have been done because every single one of them was just a plaything for destiny to reel at. And that is the absolute most excruciating thing to accept in their circumstance. Because none of them can handle what they've gone through. And to accept that there's absolutely nothing that ever could have been done about it is. Devastating. Because why should Jon have been born to suffer, why should Melanie have had to live a life built off a burning stick tower of shaky rage, why should Daisy have had to live the life of a desperate predator that she can barely redeem herself for, why should Basira have to dedicate her life to something that-

has only ever backfired on her, and went through so much trauma because of. Every single one of them is at the absolute worst possible spot they could be at for one reason or another (except possibly Daisy), so what other option do they have besides creating blame when the alternative is accepting it was hopeless all along. They're all desperate. Now, to further explain my next point i'm going to bring in some historical context for the term "scapegoat. Based in the Bible, a scapegoat is one of two baby goats; the other is sacrificed, while the other is sent into the desert, carrying all of the sins and impurities with it. The idea is initially mentioned in the Book of Leviticus, where a goat is assigned to be sent into the desert in order to carry away the sins of the community. Historically, this can be seen in many concepts. All of which are corrupt, and yet simultaneously used as one massive coping mechanism for the ways things are. The term though, interestingly (and ironically seeing a trend in historical scapegoats) enough, is rooted in ancient Judaism. Once a year, during Yom Kippur, Cohen Gadol sacrificed a bull as a sin offering to atone for all the sins he had inadvertently committed during the year. Then he took two goats and brought them to the door of the tent. Two goats were chosen by lot: one offered as a blood sacrifice, and the other as a scapegoat to be sent into the desert and pushed down a steep chasm where he died. The blood of the slain goat was taken behind the curtain into the Holy of Holies and sprinkled on the closing plate, the lid of the ark of the covenant. Later, the high priest confessed the intentional sins of the Israelites to God and figuratively placed them on the head of another goat, the scapegoat Azazel, who would symbolically "take them away". Now this is a very important analysis of a "scapegoat" because of how it narratively fits into the magnus archives you'll notice, that in the more ancient torah based description, it's abundantly clear that rather than simply an instrument for atonement, the goat is a sacrifice. The sins of the world were all placed on a rather innocent creature, and due to this, it met its untimely demise for reasons none other than fate. I like this specification, because I think it shows a really important context for the situation Jon is is. He isn't just being blamed for other people's problems, he's being utterly destroyed by them. Jons mental deterioration throughout the season has been nothing but noticeable in every way possible. And really? It's mostly due to that. He has an i n s a n e amount of survivors guilt at this point as pointed out by Daisy in Scrutiny, "And of course, for John, there’s survivor’s guilt in there, too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.". So to have such an immense amount of guilt, and then have all the people around you, who you strive to have some sort of trust with, place all this blame on you, is detrimental. Not only is it a punishment perfectly tailored to match what Jons weakest point is, but it's also one that puts him in a cycle of agony that makes the entire situation worse. A sacrifice. It sends him into a vicious cycle of [ deteriorating due to being blamed -> not being able to sustain the pressure and agony of it and needing more statements -> taking more statements -> scapegoated for taking statements -> deteriorating due to being blamed ]. He's caught between a rock and a hard place with the situation because the ways the assistants are coping with their situation is directly contributing to exactly what they get on him for. They see him as a monster for doing what he does, and continue to deliberately try and make him feel worse, which only makes him need to do more of what they hate him for and no on and so forth. It's a vicious cycle full of unhealthy coping that none of them know how to withstand.

So, now that we have down the motives for scapegoating Jon and where Jon stands in the situation and what narrative role he's playing, we can now move on to the scene itself and the fundamentals of each character's stance in it.

Coping: and how it interferes with regression of development.

Firstly, I'm going to be starting with Daisy and there's a chance it's because she's my favorite and there's a chance it's because her stance is the most interesting. I lied, it's because she's my favorite! But either way, Daisy in this scene is the most conflicted character, and for extremely good reason. You'll notice that in her speech, she's almost desperately trying not to take sides, because she's the most aware of all the characters. She's undergone the most development and because of it is able to understand perspectives to a point where taking one is just something that's too difficult for her. After escaping the grasp of the Hunt, she's dedicated herself to atonement. Daisy has done terrible, inexcusable things in the past in order to feed the hunt. And since escaping it has done every single thing in her power to make up for it, no matter how hard. But the thing is. She's just as affected as all of them. And that's what makes her actions in this scene so interesting to look at. Because she can. not. blame Jon. She was Jon not too long ago she sees herself in him to a point where its painful. Because she too was caught in a place where she had to do things she knew were wrong simply to satisfy the desire of the hunt. She knows just how hard it is she knows the agony that Jon’s having to go through so she can't stand to see Basira and Melanie acting like he has full control. And yet at the same time, she can't bring herself to go against Basira. Because just as much as she knows where Jon is, she was on the police force with Basira. And cant help but see the justice side of the argument. She can't help but see how her circumstances differ from Ions in a way that Basira points out. So as much as she can see herself in where Jon is, she's incapable of not also being able to understand the points being made by the rest and where they are coming from due to how she knows that the logic for herself cant be applied to Jon. Since Jon knows what he's doing and she didn't. Since Jon hasn't been able to resist but she has. And a part about that fact is that it's Basira making it. She also still has a loyalty to Basira that makes it. Very, very difficult to fully go against her. So she becomes caught in a place where taking full, distinct sides, becomes a difficult endeavor. In the interaction, she's never the one making the points against Jon, but she's also not the one ever advocating for him. She makes a single comment about how Jons situation was similar to hers to try and reason was Basira slightly, but shut up about it after a few vague comments once she saw how driven Basira was in her convictions. BASIRA - You’re a danger, John. A monster. You’re hurting innocent people. ARCHIVIST - So did Daisy. BASIRA - Shut up. It’s not the same thing at all. DAISY - Basira. He has a point. BASIRA - You didn’t know what you were doing. [DAISY MAKES A PAINED SOUND, AS IF TO CONTRADICT HER, BUT STOPS.]. In this interaction especially, you can see just how tied she is between her understanding of both sides. She knows what Jons going through, but she also knows the differences in their circumstances, and it's not something she has solid ground to argue for. Now, bringing the regression topic in, I'll talk about how playing into this coping regresses her development as a character. Daisys current arc, and the one she's been having, is about fighting against her own monster hood. It's about resisting herself. About recognizing what she's done and atonement for it. It's about trying rather than succeeding. It's about fighting against your nature for what you know is right. So when upon seeing someone whos in as pained and monstrous a condition as she was, she cant bring-

herself to fight for them due to inconsistencies with what she believes, she regresses back to the person she was. The one who let their own morals get in the way of what was right. The one who allowed people to get hurt simply because it was "for the greater good." The way that regression is highlighted for her in this scene is how a blinding sense of morals and justice becomes too bright for her to act on the right thing. Even when staring at a pitiful version of the person she used to be. Character regression here works in the way where when tasked with empathy and understanding, she instead prioritized her own personal way of seeing things.

Second, and much more simple of a spectacle to observe: Ms Melanie King. Melanie is a lot simpler to talk about, and mostly since her motives and ways of thinking are very direct and straightforward. Melanie is a character plagued by anger. She drew an unlucky hand in life, and the only way she was able to rise up to become a person she could be proud of was through fighting her way there tooth and nail, scratching and kicking and biting. So when everything comes crashing down on her. When everything she fought with her life for is suddenly destroyed, she can not blame herself. Because if she admits to herself that it was simply fate's fault that her career collapsed and that it was her fault that she joined the institute in the first place, then it means that everything will have been for nothing. And that her absolute rock bottom in life was all and only because of her. That. is NOT something she can face. And the rage that was once used to build her up in life, is redirected towards the ones who she sees fit to blame. First it was Elias. He hired her, he's the one commanding under the name of the eye, he's the one whose fault it is, and he's the one who she's going to take her rage out on. And so she did. And then Elias was gone. And her rage was taken over by the slaughter. In the time Jon was in a coma her anger festered, it grew, it empowered her and became more a part of her than ever. So once Jon was back, she had an outlet again. And boy did it make it ever so easy for her, though all through good intentioned. Jons surprise little surgery to help release her from the slaughter, the fact that it was her statement she made to him that got her involved with the institute at first, the fact that he's becoming less and less human. So many things about what Jon was doing and had done made it horrifyingly easy for her to place her rage on him. And so, all her anger was redirected towards the archivist that ruined her life. I think at this point it's also worth mentioning Melanie's pride and how it plays into her as a character. She's undergone a l o t of character change. But aside from her frustration the one thing that's stayed stagnant about her as a person is her pride. She took great pride in where she managed to get herself in life back when Ghost Hunt UK was up and her life was at its peak. It was her pride and joy and it's what boosted her ego so high because it's something she did for herself with her own bare hands. So when that collapsed, one of the massive reasons that she needed to blame someone so bad was due to the fact that if she admitted that it was her fault, then all that pride would have collapsed with the rest of her life. Navigating blame away from herself and avoiding acceptance is her way of preserving her ego, which is the only thing she really has left after all she's undergone. And due to this ego, it's also what makes her the most stubborn and fierce during this scene. And so, so willing to go against Jon at any and all costs. But tracing back to this pride of hers, I think it's an aspect that's actually quite a lot during the intervention. The moment Jon refers to her as being a character in an explanation of his she immediately assumes he's trying to blame her for it all. [ ARCHIVIST - The second was… it was after I got stabbed by Melanie. MELANIE - You are not putting this on me ]. She does this again, but this time when Jons agrees with her, this being a blow to her ego that someone like him could even think to agree with an idea of hers. [ ARCHIVIST - She does have a point. MELANIE - I did NOT ask you.] So now that motives and reasoning are out of the way, it's time to explain how regression is doing its work on Melanie here. Melanie's key point in her development as a character is. actually almost hilariously obvious to a point where she's actually seen as reasonable for a split second of her life. She got therapy.

An honestly hilariously smart solution to the arising problems but. It was impressive for Melanie. Because her getting help after never once leaning on anyone around her was a massive step for her. It was a release of her pride, a recognition of her needing help from someone, of realizing she wasn't ok, and going out and getting it. Which god is more than can be said for most characters but essentially what therapy meant for her character development, was that she was finally taking a step to acknowledge her irrational anger and work to fix it. What happened in this scene for her, was a messy entanglement with the automatic unleashing of anger that she's always been so accustomed to, and the fact that she just took a massive step to stop that habit of hers. Regression is present here in the way that here, it's that automatic unleashment that ends up dominating, and becomes what overtakes her in this scene. The person she's been trying too hard to become fades away, and she moves back into the bitter, angry, spiteful person she was at the beginning of season four, still infected with the slaughter.

Basira is. undoubtedly the most complicated one. Daisys motives are the most contradicting, but Basira is the most dominant figure in what's happening, making her actions the most intense, and controversial. Basira is. complicated. She's extremely justice oriented and will do just about anything if it's for the wellbeing of the innocent and good of the world. She doesn't have the same "maul and kill the bad protect the good '' philosophy as Daisy, and is much less violent, but nonetheless lets her judgment of if people are good or not define her actions. And this goes for just about everything she has an opinion on, even changing what she thinks drastically if someone's morals shift. The only exception to this rule is Daisy, who seems to always have some affection towards whether what she's doing is good or not. The only time she's ever intervened with Daisy's immoral behavior is when she was going to kill Jon, who was someone Basira saw as moral. This type of mindset of hers got to the point where she completely turned on the police force the moment she recognized it as corrupt without even a second thought or dilemna about what she had sacrificed years upon years of work for. Unlike Daisy, who's developed to be able to see in shades of gray, Basira is still stuck at a point of black and white thinking. Deeming people as either "good" or a "monster." However over time, what went from just a mindset, became an utter and absolute crutch for her. She kept having to save herself from more and more situations. Rayners incident where she had to save herself from the chaos of the situation to when she had to rely entirely on her own head and wits to survive the unknowing, Basira slowly yet surely gets to a point where she can only trust to rely on herself, and her logic. After being through hell and back in Section 31 and then the institute she longs for stability, and gets this by having a rock solid state of mind that develops into the one and only thing she can depend on This gets especially reinforced in season four, when she's forced to take a leadership position. After the unknowing, her one, true last anchor besides herself disappears. Daisy was the one thing she could always count on, the one thing that was always there as an undeniable constant no matter what. But after Daisy was gone, she was left truly alone. So with Jon gone, Elias in prisoned, Martin out on his own agenda, and everyone else besides Melanie dead, she's forced to take leadership of the operation that is the archives. This in itself makes her extremely self sufficient. Becoming more and more self reliant and she increasingly loses anchors. This is likely around the time that she started really looking up to Gertrude, someone who all by herself did an unbelievable amount of justice for the world no matter what it took, or who had to be sacrificed to do it. Gertrudes self sufficiency, her effort, her efficiency, her image, everything Gertrude was, Basira strived to be. She's entirely independent, researching her own things and going all around the country without telling anyone about what she's doing. Leading all the operations such as the stopping of the dark ritual and now, going to investigate hilltop roads. She's undeniably retreated into herself, and no longer is used to being anything but autonomous. Because relying on herself for everything is how she copes. She turns herself into a pillar of stability which she must never leave, terrified that she would otherwise collapse. However despite seeming logical, she also greatly uses Jon as just as much of a scapegoat as Melanie, albeit more subconsciously. The problem that arises with Basira a bit more, is bias. Bias towards what's helpful to her personally, bias towards stability, and a strong bias against things that both destable her, and don't fit her view of justice.

I'm going to have to try and word this simply because Basira is a little complicated, but essentially, her black and white view of the world mixes with her biases very badly. Being either extremely tolerant, or extremely intolerant. Due to her self sufficient development, she has automatic favor towards anyones who's useful to her. Aka: Melanie. During the flesh attack, Melanie saved her life. Melanie got Helen as an ally. Melanie helped her research and upkeep of the archives when nobody else was around. And otherwise, has stayed out of her way. Due to Melanie having been useful to her, she sees Melanie as a person on her "good" list. And is willing to excuse Melanie's emotional outbursts, and justifies them. She also has automatic favor towards people who provide her stability: Daisy. Daisy has had her back for likely at least a decade. She's always worked together with her, always helped her, always provided a sense of stability for her to rely on, and was a powerful unstoppable force that Basira found comfort in depending on. Daisy was also someone Basira became extremely trauma bound with, enforcing the fact that Daisy would constantly be relied upon. Because of this, Basira looked past her immoral behavior on the police force. Daisy also earned a spot on her "good" list. However, Jon has ever provided for her in a way where she can have this favor towards him, and if anything goes against the exact things that she values Melanie and Daisy for. Unlike Melanie, Jon has never helped her or been of use to her. He's never saved her, never gotten her in the nick of time, never assisted her in something great, and overall has really never been a person that has been of good use to her. Unlike Basira, he's extremely unreliable. He's messy, jumps into action without thinking, he's self sacrificial in the stupid way, always gets himself into danger, is sloppy with plans, puts himself and others in danger, and is the last person you can rely on as a sturdy boulder. So not only does Jon not possess the qualities she tends to favor people over, but similarly to Melanie she associates him with being put in danger due to him being unhelpful at some of the most dangerous places shes ever found herself in, including the unknowing, the stopping of the "dark ritual". And most other scenarios where she's been put in danger, and needs someone to assist her. That being said, this means that she's not willing to look past anything he does due to lacking in the favor that people like Melanie and Daisy have. This especially works in the opposite of Jons favor when the things that he happens to be making mistakes on, is exactly what Basira values. Justice of the innocent. So when you combine ALL these factors.

Combine her need to be bold, black and white, stubborn and unmoving at all costs [ BASIRA - How many. ARCHIVIST - Basira…BASIRA - How. many. ] [ BASIRA Enough. ]. [ BASIRA -Then we go. Now. Unless, anyone has any objections. ]

With her newfound need to be independent, autonomous, self sufficient, self reliant at all costs [ BASIRA - No. if he is being controlled, we need to know. And we need to know now. Tell me where she is. ] [ BASIRA - Fine, I’ll go, then. I’ll do some recon on my own, and update you. ]

And finally, her biases towards those she favors mixing with her strong sense of justice [ BASIRA - Why do you think? Because he was ashamed. ] [ BASIRA - You’re a danger, John. A monster. You’re hurting innocent people. ARCHIVIST - So did Daisy. BASIRA - SHUT UP. It’s not the same thing at all. DAISY - Basira. He has a point. You didn’t know what you were doing. BASIRA -And since you did, you’ve spent every waking hour resisting. He knows exactly what he’s doing. ] [BASIRA- You don’t get a vote. ]

Now that I've discussed the individual characters and their stances and motives, I want to give my personal review of this scene and it's mostly just. My goodness. Jonathan Sims is scarily good at writing characters. I feel like a lot of writers often don’t go into the messy details of what trauma does to you as a person. A lot of the time characters will go into scarring events and come out only slightly affected. But what's really done so, so well, is the realism put into the coping styles and reactions of each character. They don't react to their trauma in pretty, romanticized ways. Melanie especially depicts this. She has rage outbursts that have ruined her almost all her relationships, she becomes violent out of fear, she reacts irrationally due to defense mechanisms, shes messy and shes vengeful and shes angry and the ways in which she acts in order to protect herself whether its stabbing Jon and other violent outbursts, or a general inability to communicate without thinking the other person has bold intentions to hurt her. She screams at Jon, blames him for all her problems despite him being responsible for dead zero of them, and turns fearful and livid at the sight of him. She's traumatized and it's not depicted in a way that's supposed to get the point across while still preserving love for the character. They aren't afraid to make characters genuinely unlikeable for the sake of realism and it's represented s o well. And she isn't the only character who does this when faced with trauma. Tim becomes bitter towards everyone around him and vents his rage on anyone who comes too close. Martin becomes hateful, spiteful, and self isolating. Basira takes complete domination in order to be in control of situations, and becomes accusatory, cold, selfish, unfair. I could go on and on but there isn't a single characters whose reactions art brutally honest to what anyone would say or do. they are unpleasant and messy and excruciating but they're human, they are unapologetically human. heres a perspective that wasn't so easy to see coming, but it actually fairly crucial to this entire scene and what exactly it means. Martin. Martin was the one took the tape of the bystanders interaction with jon, and left it out for the others to see. A silent instruction to intervene. Which. Dear god shows a lot about who he is as a character and just why the lonely is benefitting so much from him. Martin cares about Jon. It's undeniable. Daisy and Basira and Jon and Martin have always worked quite well as foils because as Daisy is Basira source of stability despite Daisy being rather uninvolved, Jon is Martins source of stability, despite Martin purposefully not involving himself. We already know that one of the main reasons Martin is working with Lukas in the first place, was a promise that doing what he's doing is protecting Jon. Everything from his self isolation to his purposeful self sabotage with his peers to every ounce of work he's doing..is really just all for Jon and the promise of his safety. However, despite his care he refuses to get involved. He digs himself in such a deep self sabotage hole that he refuses to even try and do what Jon really needs from him due to being so deep into what he's doing that he can't really turn back. He's so incredibly focused in on his own agenda, that he ends up endangering what he says he values. He's so uninvolved with the happening of things that he sent a tape containing an example of jon acting “evilly”, to the exact people that push him to do so and without considering the danger that may put him in with his coworkers.Martins perspective on this isn't really something you can tell? So it's hard to guess if i did that knowing what would happen and thinking that would be for the best, or did it thinking things would end differently, not realizing what he was doing. is really just all for Jon and the promise of his safety. However, despite his care he refuses to get involved.

He digs himself in such a deep self sabotage hole that he refuses to even try and do what Jon really needs from him due to being so deep into what he's doing that he can't really turn back. He's so incredibly focused in on his own agenda, that he ends up endangering what he says he values. He's so uninvolved with the happening of things that he sent a tape containing an example of Jon acting “evilly”, to the exact people that push him to do so and without considering the danger that may put him in with his coworkers. Martin's perspective on this isn't really something you can tell? So it's hard to guess if i did that knowing what would happen and thinking that would be for the best, or did it thinking things would end differently, not realizing what he was doing. Either way, it's very interesting to see just how dedicated Martin is to Peter Lukas’s plans to a point where even the main motivation to what he's doing in the first place becomes something he avoids at every single cost he can, even when attempting to better things. Of course there's a lot about Martin I could talk about, but it wouldn't be relevant to this episode. Instead it's just interesting to focus on the action Martin takes, the inaction he takes, and just why he does these things.

Martins. certainly an interesting one right now. I keep trying to decipher his motives by leaving the tape out but it's honestly near impossible to fully know what he was counting on happening or not.

Now when you think about this scene in the context of psychologist "Leon Festinger's" cognitive dissonance, it gets even more interesting. For starting context, cognitive dissonance is when ones belief differs from physical evidence at hand. You may have heard of musical dissonance, when two notes in different keys are played in a rather jarring timeframe, made to make the listeners uncomfortable or shudder. Cognitive Dissonance is just this. When someone's belief doesn't line up with the evidence at hand, it creates a jarring discomfort quite similar. An example used by Festinger (1957) may assist in elucidating the theory. A habitual smoker who learns that smoking is bad for health will experience dissonance because the knowledge that smoking is bad for health is dissonant with the cognition that he continues to smoke. He can reduce the dissonance by changing his behavior, that is, he could stop smoking, which would be consonant with the cognition that smoking is bad for health. Alternatively, the smoker could reduce dissonance by changing his cognition about the effect of smoking on health and believe that smoking does not have a harmful effect on health (eliminating the dissonant cognition). He might look for positive effects of smoking and believe that smoking reduces tension and keeps him from gaining weight (adding consonant cognitions). Or he might believe that the risk to health from smoking is negligible compared with the danger of automobile accidents (reducing the importance of the dissonant cognition). In addition, he might consider the enjoyment he gets from smoking to be a very important part of his life (increasing the importance of consonant cognitions). Cognitive dissonance is seen here, particularly in Basira, very starkly. Basira and Melanie believe Jon is a monster. An inhuman thing that's instinct is to only harm others. She views him as this broken twisted thing that needs to be handled and managed so he doesn't destroy the people around him. However, at the same time she's still wholly devoted to Daisy. She holds no blame towards her, and excuses her every action due to her repressed feelings for her and the loyalty she feels towards her, despite Daisy having done far, far worse than Jon. but despite the hypocrisy, they make her feel safe. They give her stability. Because this way, she has a clear opposing force (Jon), and a clear allied force (Daisy and Melanie) and having that gives her the groundedness she longs for. However, cognitive dissonance comes into play. very quickly with this. For example: the evidence of Jon trying to be better. The fact that Jon does everything in his power to help others, the fact that Jon continuously resists using his power if he can't help it, the fact that Jon has a kind heart, the fact that Jon has worked tirelessly for others, the fact that Jons intentions are never once bad.

Basira sees this. Basira sees every. Little bit of this. But she denies. She feels that uncomfortable dissonance between what she believes about Jon and about what's in front of her eyes. So in order to close this gap between belief and evidence, she makes excuses. She convinces herself that Jon is barely trying and that things would be fully better if he actually cared, she convinces herself that Jon is against her and is being manipulative, she convinces herself that he's deliberately doing what he is. All these beliefs that convinces herself of help close that uncomfortable gap between her belief and logic, making that dissonance go away. As Lauren Slater said in her book on Leons Psychology "Opening Skinner's Box": “dissonance is really not about looking at how people change. The theory just didn’t concern itself with that.” Which describes her feelings towards Jon, really quite well. Its doubt of progress. Doubt of character. Doubt of the human ability to change and grow and live. Someone else along with this happens with her relationship with Daisy.

Now for this part if we are to take a look at some more excerpts from Lauren Slater's "Opening Skinner's box:” "Did Festinger ever consider how our justifications are to save not only ourselves, but others too? Did he ever consider how lies and love are intertwined?” This part relates. Incredibly directly to Daisy. Basiras Justification of Daisy's past actions, every single time she says "It's not the same" when talked about Jon and Daisys inhumanness, it's out of pure love. She doesn't want to admit to herself that Daisy may be as in the wrong as she is, but she also doesn't want to admit it to Daisy. She cares about Daisy deeply and doesn't want her to have to face that pain of truly seeing what she's done. She lies to herself out of protection of Daisy, and out of preserving her morals. Because Basira wants to be a good person. She needs to be a good person she needs to stand for the name of justice as a totem, as a symbol. She can't do that if she stood by someone and let them murder countless people, and excuse it, and love that person deeply, and continue to. So she lies to herself. She tries to close the gap in dissonance by justifying Daisy's actions, because god she just needs to. Now, for how Melanie comes into this. It goes without saying that Melanie pretty much also can be directly applied to all of Basiras cognitive dissonance, except for some details. She experiences the same cognitive dissonance as Basira just in an angrier way, with different motives. And it's exactly this that makes the dissonance with Basira and Melanie worse.

“We spend our lives paying attention only to information that is consonant with our beliefs, we surround ourselves with people who will support our beliefs, and we ignore contradictory information that might cause us to question what we have built.” "Soothing can come only if more and more people sign onto the spaceship, so to speak, because if we are all flying this thing together, then surely we must be right.” Companionship. Because if someone believes the same thing as you you cant be crazy. If someone sees what you see then it affirms you, makes you feel like you must be right since you aren't the only one who thinks this. That's what happens with Basira and Melanie. They both experience with dissonance, and find companionship in it. They think. "Oh, well I'm not alone in this belief, so I doubt it's wrong." Their beliefs are affirmed, and they strengthen due to this. There's no room to doubt yourself when everyones telling you youre right. Another variable when it comes to companionship, is just how much both of them long for it. Melanie and Basira are in such lonesome, excruciating places in their lives. meaning that the companionship that comes with this common dissonance is strengthened simply by the fact that they both long for allies and for support. “The psychological opposition of irreconcilable ideas (cognitions) held simultaneously by one individual, created a motivating force that would lead, under proper conditions, to the adjustment of one’s belief to fit one’s behavior—instead of changing one’s behavior to fit one’s belief (the sequence conventionally assumed).”

#the magnus archives #magnus archives #jonathan sims #jon sims #themagnusarchives #magnusarchives #tma #magpod #basira hussain #daisy tonner #melanie king #martin blackwood #the magnus pod #elias bouchard

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