#man remember when tv was good and arcs made sense

[benoitblanc]

off to bed now because i'm trying to winnow my way down into going to bed at 9 for the 3:30 wakeup i have to do next week to get to the airport, but last elegy thought. i really shouldn't have watched this now because i forgot to take into account that elegy-demons-gethsemane-reduxes are a spiritual five-parter

[kseniaallis]

I just watched tw movie trailer, and it says a lot about my “excitement” that I just watched it. And of course I knew what’s happening because… fandom. But looking at it with my own eyes, book writing experience and participation in teen wolf fandom since I was 14, it just doesn’t make any sense.

I understand why they use Nogitsune as a main villain for the movie - it’s the most popular, loved, if you can say that, plot line of the entire show. Because if you ask fandom “what is your favourite season?” most of them will answer 3b.

What I don’t understand is how they’ll use this storyline without two major characters - Stiles and Kira. The whole reason why Nogitsune appeared in the Beacon Hills was Kira’s family history. And the reason why Nogitsune is so popular - DOB acting. Because I swear to God, if it wasn’t for him, it wouldn’t be just as enjoyable.

I won’t start on Derek’s son that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, that Derek purposefully raised in the town that gave him, his family, friends so many traumas? Make it make sense.

I won’t judge Hikari because I don’t know her plot line, but what I hate and what is heavily implied is that the part of her story is being the love interest. Why won’t you let female character just be in the story, without making them important just because they are someone’s love interest. It's 2023, not 2014 (but we stayed there, ig, and made it worse). And I still don’t like how her being kitsune sounds a lot like Kira’s replacement.

And I hope, hope that even if they pursue Liam and Hikari, please, please don’t let it happen with such a big age difference.

I also have no idea how having a romance with a character that appears just in the movie is a good idea. In all honesty, I don’t give a f about this character because I don’t know her and having this character have a romance with a beloved fandom character just for one movie is ridiculous. Especially, after setting up the whole Thiam heavily implied story line. Because, you see, the only reason why anyone even talk about the movie is fandom. And fandom loves when things they love at least appear, give them breadcrumbs and they’ll be happy. We are not picky.

Mason being a deputy? Okay, perfect. The boy was smart as hell and could go miles away from Beacon Hills to learn science, but no-no. He could have been emissary to the pack and it would work perfectly, but still it’s a no for them.

Malia and Parish's situation is so confusing, like even Lydia and Parish made more sense (age difference is still bad here). And they just decided recycling her relationship with Scott for the sake of Allison's return?

And why does she? Her arc was complete in such a perfect way. It was sad, but it was perfect. It brought reason for the pack to keep fighting, taught them lesson that they weren’t invincible. Bringing her back makes it all go in flames. She died young, saving her friends and it was beautiful in the way, because it brought the whole new meaning to her arc. But no, let’s bring her back and make Argent’s life even more tragic and painful. Let the poor man rest.

And I hope they didn’t kill Theo’s character off screen. But maybe him not being in the movie is a good thing. They can’t fuck up his character after completing his arc perfectly in the tv-show (still surprising, tbh, but I LOVE how they made it).

I remember founding out about the movie. How exciting it felt because I just returned to the fandom, reading all these thiam fics (because fandom recommendations on Tumblr made me, and I was never more grateful to learn about Theo character from the perceptive I have now as an adult. I hated him when I was young and now he is one of my favourites). It felt exciting because it had meaning. And we had hope for it to be at least a decent thing. A continuation of the story that made sense. But now they ruined almost half of the characters and removed the other half for the sake of two hours (how long is it exactly?) movie we won’t even watch.

At this point, I just wait for fix-it fics on ao3 that’ll make more sense than the plot jd came up with his writers.

Thanks for listening to my TED Talk.

[psychicpinenut]

netflix atla review

i decided that i wanted to see it through anyway so i finished the netflix atla. here are the things that made me want to hurl rocks at my tv (i might not remember a lot of things because i stopped watching after ep 4 and only continued this week so this might get rambly as i try to recall things)

let me start on the cast. no offense to these kids but my god. one of the things i hate the most is when you can tell an actor is acting. the whole time you could see that they walk up to their mark, stop there and recite the lines like they're in a high school play. and i get that they're young and probably don't have too much experience but i just keep thinking about the original voice cast who were children as well at the time of recording and they're some of the most talented actors i've ever heard. but then again i know they had to not only find people who resemble the characters but can do martial arts and act. so whatever, i hope they'll grow more during this. the only actor i liked was dallas liu who is the oldest of the main cast (i believe he was around 20 when they filmed this) which is probably why he doesn't have a chronic case of child acting.

constantly making up and/or changing lore:

why can aang only speak to past avatars in their shrines?

roku is sidelined in favor of kyoshi (who for some reason is extremely aggressive towards him) who can see into the future apparently because she gave aang a vision of the northern water tribe being destroyed instead of sozin's comet coming.

aang somehow being "lost" to the ocean spirit at the end which is ???

sokka and katara can enter the spirit world with aang

koh keeping his victims like some fucking spider and only gives them back after aang gave some stupid totem back. they also brought him so forward that he doesn't tell aang about tui and la which was the entire fucking point of looking him up in the first place

yue is a fox? in the spirit world?

wan shi tong is there also in the spirit world

i'm guessing they're already abandoning the ancient library storyline because they already intoduced wan shi tong and zhao was shown that he found out about tui and la from the fire sages in roku's temple. which is going to be interesting because that's where sokka finds out about the solar eclipse but i guess they'll come up with some other solution like toph can sense the moon moving through her feet or some shit

tui and la becoming mortals for only one night?

zuko having extensive research on the avatars should mean he knows that roku is his great grandfather but we're either leaving that one out or he's just not good at research

they took out sokka's sexism, thus eliminating any chance of character development, in favor of putting in actual sexism perpetrated by the show itself. suki is made into this small town girl, rapunzel type of character who needs sokka, the man, to bring the world to her and expand her mind. and then instead of sokka being grateful to suki for teaching him, she's the one that's thankful for ... going there? and bringing the world to her? because strong women mean they can punch right?

constant references to book 2 in the first season

they made so that aang didn't actually run away from his responsibility as the avatar - which is a pretty important part of his arc as that guilt follows him through the entire series - but that he only took a little trip to clear his head. which makes everyone accusing him of disappearing seem dumb and unfair

which leads me to bumi. why the fuck would bumi be so pissed at him? the whole episode he's antagonizing him and yelling at him to go do his job as the avatar meanwhile he's holding him hostage and making him do his challenges. like let him go so he can do his job maybe?? stupid

the entire ep 3-4. they really just shoved like 5 episodes together into one which i get because they don't have time to do everything but they did it so badly and the messages from each episode disappeared in favor of the CGI fight scenes.

like what do you mean sokka barely even got to interact with jet? that's the episode where sokka is proven to have good instincts and leadership because he saw jet for what he was.

why are teo and his dad here? what about aang's massive grief over the industrialization of his wiped out culture?

why would jet try to kill bumi? they completely obliterated the moral dilemma of jet wiping out a fire nation village because he sees that as justified even though he's killing civilians who happen to be fire nation.

for some reason they had sokka and katara go through the secret tunnel which is kind of fucking weird. i don't mind if they cut the kaang romance line but it is going to be interesting once it comes to the earthly attachments and some plotlines that revolve around aang having a major crush on katara. also what do you mean the badger moles sense "emotions"? toph is about to sense people's emotions in her feet and learn bending that way

they mary sue'd katara. she's bad at waterbending until she isn't and suddenly she's a master just from self taught basic waterbending she learned from the scroll gran gran gave her?? which is another thing they robbed us of because katara going to great lengths to steal the scroll shows how determined she is and desperate to learn waterbending but here she just gets handed the scroll. she's timid and lukewarm the entire season, the only time i can recall her even raising her voice is when she's arguing with sokka over jet. she gets mad at pakku for not letting her fight which is stupid because girl who is gonna stop you? go and fight?? you should be getting mad at pakku for not even trying to teach you waterbending. then she brings the entire untrained female population to the fight because girl power™. despite all of this, she's proclaimed a master without any actual training and beats zuko's ass purely because she's So Good. like at this point she shouldn't be able to hold her own against zuko without the full moon's help because as soon as the sun comes up zuko easily overpowers her ("you rise with the moon i rise with the sun"). which didn't happen here because she's a self proclaimed master now apparently

aang didn't bend a single waterdrop the entire season. it's book 1: water. it's called water. where's the bending aang? too busy doing another stupid walk and talk

stripped of iroh telling zuko he thinks of him as his son

stripped of one of the rawest lines i've ever heard on television: "my father says she was born lucky, he says i was lucky to be born"

which leads me into azula's character. they brought her in earlier just so her role in the whole season can be her groveling at ozai's feet, seeking his approval, trying to outdo zuko. which is insane cause she already outdoes zuko by a mile. she's a prodigy. they make it look like ozai favors zuko over azula which is so fucking insaaaane it made me so mad. she already knows she's better than zuko, she doesn't need her father's approval. also why isn't her fire blue.

iroh being the one who kills zhao. this one pissed me off so badly because in the original, as the ocean spirit takes hold of him zuko reaches out to zhao to try to save him.... that man tried to have him KILLED. and zuko still tried to save him. but zhao's arrogance didn't let him take his hand and that was his demise. that single act tells us so much about zuko and they just??? took that out??? so iroh can just murder him?? instead of it being the ocean spirit's revenge for killing its partner? instead of giving us that glimpse into who zuko is as a person? i'm going insane

don't even mention the fact that zuko fought back against ozai during the agni kai. he was literally banished because he refused to fight him. he got the scar because he refused to fight him. that's who zuko is!!!! and then they show us that he, a 13 year old boy who is still fairly inexperienced at bending, could have defeated ozai but he chose not to?? i'm sorry???

during the meeting where he spoke out against their plan, they made it look like he only spoke up because the general taunted him and not because he thought what they wanted to do was morally wrong.

now tell me which line hits harder: "compassion is a sign of weakness" or "you will learn respect and suffering will be your teacher". yeah...

yue bringing sokka to the spirit oasis to heal momo?? it was so fucking stupid and unserious that they were cradling a cgi lemur that i was in tears of pain. i almost gave up there

sokka constantly talking about wanting to be a better warrior and bossing katara around but doing absolutely fuck all to prove himself was insane. sokka was just standing around the whole season making bad jokes (cause wow they made sokka unfunny somehow) and flirting with women.

there was no goofiness or lightheartedness to aang. he took everything so fucking seriously it actually hurt to watch because they blew things out of proportion that didn't need to be. why was he so afraid of his normal bending power? not even his avatar state power but just his airbending. constantly angsting over his responsibility and how he's failing as the avatar. jesus fucking christ.

since zuko never stole katara's necklace, june had to use some fuckin random fabric she found on one of the trees that could've belonged to anybody??

zuko was able to capture aang after june found him instead of getting his ass whooped and paralysed so when zhao basically forces him to hand aang over to him, it's easier to guess who the blue spirit is as zuko makes a whole scene about it earlier

truly the one thing i really liked was the addition that the 41st division was the crew he protected at the war meeting

circling back to the first episode where we start out in the past and we get to see the whole genocide of the air nomads instead of finding out along with aang. we also get to see how he ends up in the iceberg so we don't get his story paralleled with zuko's backstory like in the storm. i mean whatever but the aang and zuko parallels were always dear to me.

hated zhao's actor. instead of him being intimidating and scary, he was acting like a frat boy and talked like tom cruise's character in magnolia. just simply annoying

jet telling katara to just stop being sad about her mom and she stops being sad and suddenly she can bend again. and later when he tells her she can bend because he helped her, she straight up denies it because it was "all her" like i gotta disagree there cause no, it was definitely him who helped you.

icing on the cake was when zuko walks into a bar and the patrons there reference like 4 storylines that they skipped over

so anyway... that's all i could think of at the top of my head and i hope they fuck up less in the upcoming seasons god willing

[at1nys-blog]

The one that left

Pairing: Hanma Shuji x fem!reader

Summary: a little lie is the best option, even if it lets your, and Hanma's heart broken into million pieces

A/N: Tokyo Revengers spoilers chapter 188 I guess, sorry I don't remember the actual chapter but I know is before the Bonten Arc which starts at chapter 189 so yeah; made myself cry...

Masterlist

Shuji Hanma had a safe place, you. Everytime he had a problem, or he just wanted to stay away from whatever was gang's related he drove right at your place.

He would sneak in from the window of your room if it was too early, knowing your parents, read your dad, were still up; if it was in the midle of the night, like today, he would just knock on your front door, just like right now.

But today was different. Everything was, the plan he and Kisaki elaborated failed, Kisaki died, the police was after him now and your dad was the one answering the door.

"She is not home." he simple lied to the boy. Henma tried to get in, he couldn't believe you weren't home at that ungodly hour. "Boy, I said she isn't here." you father yelled-whispered to him.

"Why isn't she home? Is 4 in the morning?" he kept asking questions after questions. He hoped you were somewhere safe, maybe at your friend's house. He wished you were at your friend's house. "maybe she went to party?" he asked. "I can wait her inside. Can I wait her inside?"

You could hear the disperation in his voice, he needed you, he really did. You felt your stomach burn, your eyes started to water at the thought that you couldn't help him. You had to cover your mouth and bit your lips. I'm sorry Hanma, I'm very sorry. You told yourself, back against the wall of the living room.

"She will not be back any time soon, she has left Tokyo." you did not left the city, at least not right now you will tomoroww. I mean, in some hours.

"But... she didn't told me anything." he said, shock painted all over his face. Why didn't she told me? Was it something I did? Said? What? His mind was rushing to find an answer, something to make sense of your non comunications with him but nothing came to mind.

"Oh boy, you didn't notice did you? She tried to tell you but you were so caught up in your gang's stuff you never paid attention to her." said your father, you were silently sobbing now, the light of the tv the only source of illumination in the dark room. You had to suffocate a painfull scream to not let him hear you.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, sir. It won't happen again" he bowed, wishing your father good night and then left. The man waited some minutes and then checked if he was gone from the parking lot of your apartament building. When he came back inside, you let out your pain, crying like a little kid that was denied a toy.

"Shh, shhhh, is okay my kid. I will never understand but I can tell you care for him too much." you kept crying in his chest letting it all out. "you just need to stay away from Tokyo so you can move on quicker." after that no one talked, not even your mother when he reached the two of you in the living room. She kept her distance, looking at you crying in your father's arms as you were 2 once again, and him stroking your back and hair assuring you everything was going to be fine.

You stop after some long minutes, too tired to keep crying and too tired to keep your eyes open any longer. Your father carried you in your room as when you were a little kid; tucked you under the blankets; kissed your forehead good night and left you sleep, wondering what were you going to dream in such a state. He hoped for nothing.

Unbeknowst to the three of you, Hanma Shuji was back in the parking lot, attention at your apartament wondering where you were now and what you were doing. Were you sleeping safe and sound? Were you having good dreams? If only he knew you were in your room, sleeping with a broken heart, as his.

[altschmerzes]

Just caught up woth the latest episode and I have SO many feelings.

1) Sam’s meltdown??? I was fully sobbing. So glad Toheeb Jimoh got his chance to shine this season, and I LOVED meeting his dad and learning the restaurant was named after him. (Do have some…feelings…about the way racism was tackled and how this extremely traumatic things is almost certainly never going to be addressed again but. Anyway)

2) NATE! Nate’s niece and his sister and him making a box and most importantly his growth!! Feeling more self confident and hating himself less and just!! I LOVED this episode for nate!!

3) Jamie?? The camera panning to Jamie as Sam hugged his dad, Jamie not arguing back when everyones blaming him for the disaster first half of the arsenal match and being SO concerned about being a prick that he just shoulders it in silence until given explicit permission, ALL THE JAMIE AND DANI BESTIES SCENES?????

Bonus: Beard’s A+ Powerpoint presentation

YEAH YEAH YEAH ANON IM NODDING FRANTICALLY

toheeb jimoh is a powerhouse of an actor and it was GREAT to see him get to stretch his legs in that episode. i loved seeing his dad and the restaurant just.... man i keep losing my mf'ing mind about the restaurant being named after him specifically bc of the scene of sam and ola cooking together. like. the restaurant was already cool and special, sam deciding to make this piece of his home in london, for himself and for other people, but seeing that just.... you get the sense this is something they'd done a million times together. and suddenly sam making a restaurant is a million times more meaningful, more personal. says a lot about what home means to him, what he remembers when he thinks about home, what he wanted to bring with him. and that it was named after his dad just........ [weeps into my hands, runs away into the woods]

(and you're right, too, re: racism. i also have some reservations about how that whole thing went down and was resolved, though i guess it's possible it could come up again. it felt very.... fast? it all felt very fast and glancing and not really. aware. of what it was engaging with and getting into, is the thing i keep coming back to. this show has a bit of a blindspot when it comes to race i think, and it doesn't feel like it's Aware Of What It's Doing which is...... an issue, imo.)

getting to see nate with his sister and niece was SPECTACULAR. oh my gd i want 100 more scenes with them. i loved seeing that so much. i'm still not....... wholly sure how i feel about the plotline he's got going w/ jade at the moment (i still feel like they didn't give us enough information about jade for this to really feel..... good, i guess. given how she's behaved in the past) but seeing him making good decisions for himself and being.... kinder? to himself? was fantastic. the scene of him looking in the mirror just. augh. man. i about cried at that, the hesitation, being at peace with himself rather than angry or disgusted. ugh. man. weeps.

(i have some questions as well about how that arc's progressing, nate's arc with himself, and how it seems to have happened like....... in isolation? i want to know what's going on with him. what prompted that shift. why is he seeing himself differently? is it entirely internal or did something happen that prompted it? idk it feels like there's a lot we don't know and i'd like to see more of that, yknow.)

the jamie stuff in there was GREAT. man. the parallels to the 2x08 scene. not wanting to be a prick. putting himself at a disadvantage vis a vis actually scoring/putting focus on his own name because that's what the team needs, That's Total FootballTM. the advancement of my eternal jamie-dani besties agenda. DELIGHT. simple delight. the powerpoint made me laugh and the bit about jamie made me laugh and also my heart feel all warm and full. his smile and laugh at the joke about his reality tv career was so real and honest i about died.

[crest-of-gautier]

briefly picked up pq again after not having played it in a month, i got through the cutscenes that happen when you start the second labryinth, but didn't progress past that! thoughts™ below

i basically spent my time in Many Cutscenes (all strolls available to me, the abilities 1/2/3, what do we call each other, navigational differences, and why a group date cafe) + also did the fuse xiezhai request as well as help with the trading showdown.

i think the only downside from this play session is seeing how... how badly they exacerbate teddie's "comedic" relief traits. this isn't a problem exclusive to pq (i've watched arena all the way through and am maybe halfway through ultimax, and teddie also suffers there). but MAN. it's so hard to remember that teddie has a good arc in golden sometimes 😭

bitching about teddie aside, i do appreciate him being there because teddie's origin story of being from the TV world and then leaving it to be with the investigation team acts as such a nice metric of comparison for whatever zen and rei is supposed to be. i've been over this a billion times but the way the game explicitly has made note of this in cutscenes is just so!! juicy to me!!! it does feel like a low hanging fruit for me to latch onto in terms of "clues regarding zen and rei's identity," but it's definitely the easiest to understand.

naoto prompting an attempt to investigate of the clock tower and the lore surrounding it's real-world counterpart was very interesting! i have faith in the writers for this cutscene to make sense later down the line with more context, but it does feel like a clue. i just. need some more time with the game (and possibly more details) to put things together.

i can't help but feel that rei expressing the want/hope to "go back" (in lieu of what teddie did with going to inaba) isn't going to end well... i mean, maybe it will! but to be able to "go back" (whatever that contains) is hardly guaranteed in the first place and i feel like hoping for something like this is bound for heartbreak (i would be interested in that given that rei's entire personality is based around food and zen LOL)

the velvet room scene too!! super juicy, i really enjoy all of the angles that theo, liz, and margaret all presented in regards to the distortion of the p3 + p4 casts from different times being gathered into this one place. given how the wild card power has been neutralized and changed it really makes me wonder about the power of the end-game entity... perhaps so powerful that zen and rei could be considered "shards" of that entity who forgot about that? very interesting for margaret to refer to the world as "finite," me thinks.

the game did give a brief glimpse to a silhouette sitting on a crystal(?) and was obscured by broken glass/spider web of sorts... i wonder whatever it could need from bringing TWO wildcards, i mean, yeah that's powerful but. i wanna know the motive!!! not that. divine entities and the like always have motivations in this series but. y'know. LOL.

anyway that's all for now! short progress today bc wahoo cutscenes and i got things to do but. really intriguing, i'm super interested in seeing how this gets followed up on. also i love yosuke whenever i see yosuke's animations in this game it makes me so happy!! he's so expressive and fun i love him a lot. and it'd be very interesting to play this game again on the p4 side to see minato speak but also see what has changed between versions, as well as catching any details i've missed.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Yeah. And it was nice to see them all together like that instead of separate. And thank you for the consideration. Also, I’ll say now since that I’ve started the manga, it’s an okay adaptation. Like in my mind it’s like a Sparknotes version of what happens in the manga because it skips over some things that even happened in the earlier chapters just so that they could do the main plot they wanted to do. Like I think I’m at what happened in episode 5 and there are so many more scenes that I’m glad I got to see.

Yeah. I checked and technically it’s one movie and two specials. Like ‘The Book of Murder’ (which is actually based on the Phantomhive Manor Murders arc) is two long episodes and then the next one is a movie based on he next arc. Man voices Charles Grey if you’re curious. And fair enough. The manga is better, especially since the second season was something else. And I don’t think it’s ended yet. My friend is a huge fan of the series so she’ll probably tell me when it comes to an end. Also, since we’re talking about Black Butler, Yata’s VA did Grelle which was also very nice to hear.

Thank you. It’s just my own standards I guess 😅 True. That’s how I always am after all even though I do tend to look forward to replies from you and other people I talk to. And cool. I saw that you said some stuff and will also reply to that once I’ve typed everything I have to out. And it’s nice that you finally have the time to do so 😃 And that’s great to hear that you’re ahead of schedule. Your break is more than deserved then.

It is and so fun. Yeah. Definitely. I hope if I do write something, I can properly put it in. Hopefully my ideas are vague enough that it doesn’t have to come to it. Or in another turn, which I very much doubt, I might be far enough not to be spoiled too much by what you say 😅 But yeah, I’ll be curious to see what you have to say about them once I get around to sending them. Yeah. I will do that since you gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. I’ve still got to clear it all up and write something you asked me to do so I’ll do that and will give you what my brain has given me. I see. That’s nice. I wonder whether my opinion will change on Licht as I read more of the manga.

I’m sorry to hear that you have to wait that long. And what kind of other places are there where you have to fight to get a copy of you prescription? And yeah, same. Like we have a reasonably big TV but I still always have to go quite close to it whenever I’m not wearing my glasses to properly see what’s going on. Thank you. And so true about music. It’s a beautiful thing to exist. Sure thing.

Oh I see. And it makes sense. The summary of Deadman Wonderland sounded quite gruesome so it’s bound to get quite graphic at times. I see. It’s been many years ago that I read the Bleach manga so I just remember vague things here and there so I didn’t really realise it was that bad of an adaptation. But that’s really interesting to know. Number One will also be forever one of my faves, even though I don’t listen to it often and yeah, I also remember the dub being good so that’s also nice. And I see. Manga’s are good for minor characters. Yeah. Thank you so much and hope the same to you 😁

C

I'm glad it was nice and helpful! And now that you've started the manga (which YAY!), it's really interesting to see your general opinions of it and that they do match what the others were saying and even my own belief that there's enough scenes that didn't get animated to really justify starting it from the beginning. I'm so happy you're enjoying it and that, wow, you're already so far into the manga! I wish you lots of happiness as you continue to go along (even happiness in the more angsty sections haha, because angst can be fun).

And thank you for that information. I really hadn't known that they made specials out of the Phantomhive Manor Murders arc, though that one I just might watch because I had really enjoyed that particular arc of the manga and am curious as to the voices they would have gotten for some of the characters that were introduced. I'm glad to hear some agreement that the manga is better…it was just a really beautiful manga to me, art-wise, and I really couldn't get even the subtle differences in the art to make it easier to animate, so I didn't even want to try the anime. But I have heard a lot of people say the second season of the anime was just absolutely wild and messed up and, if what I've heard is true, it's not even really all that connected to the manga? And that's surprising to me, that Yata's voice is also Grelle's. That voice actor really does do a lot of roles, and voices really a wide range of character types and I am here for it.

Aww, it's always nice to hear that people look forward to my replies. In my mind, there's always that thought of 'well, now that I've written an entire frigging novel to them, that's probably the last I'll hear from them' because my replies are always so long and chatty. And no rush at all to reply, truly. Just as I appreciate people letting me take the time to reply, I'll always give everyone else that time. I believe this is the last inbox reply I have left, though I have a post to reblog and reply to, since I was tagged and asked for my thoughts. After that, I'll openly admit it'll probably be another week or so before I get back to replying to dm's and inbox chatter, since I'll be focusing on getting post replies out and staying caught up and on schedule. Plus, there are some asks that I'm just so excited to write and, as mentioned, I'm beyond ecstatic to be giving myself some time, once I'm all caught up on the older stuff, to work on my passion projects!

I hope for that for you too! And honestly, with the speed you're catching up, and the speed with which I reply to things, there is that possibility that you'll have gotten your answers or my answers won't be spoilers at all haha. I look forward to reading them but again, please take your time. And I apologize again for asking you to take the time to write up something extra for me, but thank you so much for doing that. And I am also curious as to whether the manga will make you like Licht a little more or dislike him more. I feel he's a lot more fleshed out in the manga and you get to see more of him and Lawless interacting, which makes me really happy.

And honestly, I'm used to waiting that long. It's about a three to four week to get even a phone appointment with my general practitioner, so waiting that long for a more specialized doctor is generally expected around where I live, because health-care workers are in short supply in Canada overall but especially the general clump of provinces I live in. And certain eye doctors, if they have a shop attached to their office that sells glasses, will definitely fight with you about you needing your prescription because they really want you to buy your frames and lenses from them, as it's where they make the most of their money. An optometrist operates in tandem with the Vogue Optical here, but I refuse to go with them as they won't hand over my glasses prescription to me, they just send it to Vogue and make me buy the crazy expensive frames from there so I go with the one optometrist in this area whose office has no eyeglasses store associated with it. And I admit I have a second-hand, beat up, smaller television. It's less than 40" so reading subs on it is impossible unless I'm super close haha. But it still works and has great sound quality and a lot of ports so I won't give it up haha.

And yeah, Deadman Wonderland got really graphic in the fight scenes but there was a lot of hard and heavy stuff in characters backstories that would need to be censored or taken out for the series to be on television so honestly, I do think it's better as a manga and enjoy the manga quite a bit. And yes, Number One is fantastic! It's in my music library, but that's easily over 3-4,000 songs so I get to hear it once in a while, whenever it comes up on shuffle. And I will say, all of the classic Big 3, other than the horrific experience of the 4kids dub, all had really good dubs done for them! And thank you :)

[alolanroy]

Watch Thread 2024 Pt 1

VOTOMS: Brilliantly Shining Heresy: The animation is great and Chirico does his thing. The ideas introduced could've been developed more, but the vibes were there and what more do you want from votoms. My biggest gripe would be that the romantic angle doesn't work and damages Fyana in a way that gives it a hard fail for the Bechdel Test. 6/10

Votoms: Alone Again: By the end they had me, but man, the actual ending is so abrupt that it just killed the momentum for me. 5/10

Votoms: Phantom Arc: I was almost on board for the concept of 'the side characters do a tour of all the locations from the series' as a bit, but once I realized they were just repeating the actual beats of the show I checked out. This only scrapes by using the charm of the cast, but I was rolling my eyes and groaning 3/10

Portal Revolution: Slick UI, well designed puzzles and writing and voice acting that didn't make me want to die. Dare I say? A bit funny? I love using the portal gun to traverse the varied terrain like in this mod and I have to give them a lot of credit for keeping the gameplay veriety up. It even left me impressed by the final boss and the laser cube mechanic I'd love to see more of. 7.5/10

Ninja Terminator: My first true IFD ninja movie, Ninja Terminator made me understand what people meant when they said these were just random southeast Asian films with white guys with mustaches and ninja outfits stapled on. It sure is one of those. But it also has a lot of wild quirks that make it funny as hell in a group watch: Garfield phone, Omega Supreme shows up in bootleg form multiple times, stolen music from L-Gaim and crabs. The source movie looks fantastic though, in a rediculous sense, like the weird villain, cool clothes, and muff diving. However, the fight scenes were surprisingly fun. -8/10

Slipstream: Don't let the first five minutes fool you with the cool and fairly realized post-apocalyptic setting and badass Mark Hamill anti-hero, this movie is boring as hell. 3/10

Super Ninja: This is going to be the lower end of my spectrum for IFD ninja movies. It feels a lot more like 3 movies stitched together, one of them is a mildly cool Rambo knock-off. Otherwise, hard to follow and it never gave me a reason to.-2/10

Yu Yu Hakusho (Netflix): This had me until it really didn't. Right around the halfway point it remembers that it was a modern Japanese anime adaptation and tried to cram the the Dark Tournament arc in. You can tell they had no faith in the project so they just crammed in all the things people liked. I mean, in Kurama's second fight he busts out Yoko Kurama form. I hope this never gets a second season. 5/10

Doctor Who 2023 Specials: GOOD WRITING IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!

A good refresher. More 'Kiddie' than the rest, but a palette cleanser was needed. Points for trying to make a pronoun joke that is actually funny.

A spooky Episode? Haven't enjoyed one of these in a hot minute. good all-ages TV should be a little scary. The kids love it and the adults love intellectualizing it.

The Doctor has his own Q now, nice. Glad they kinda lampshade the character's racist past by having me be consistently racist to everyone. I wasn't fully onboard for Time Lord Mitosis, but allows Tennant to have a happy ending chilling with Donna's family while letting the new series feel more refreshed.

Gatwa's 15th Doctor has a lot of energy, and I think the series needed that enthusiasm back. Not the weird tryhard enthusiasm where the show tells you to be excited, I mean that the characters are just thrilled to be on an adventure.

Pinning a piece of celery to your jacket isn't exactly straight, but I'm glad the new series is really trying to put different types of diversity at the forefront(though I'm glad I wasn't in the UK when this aired, I imaging not everyone was chuffed). Looked fantastic by the way. 8/10

Votoms: Case; Irvine: I would have actually liked to see more like this, but without the mecha, this could have really been any universe. Good character design and the ending went suprisingly hard. 7.5/10

Votoms Finder: THATS IT! *G-Recos your votoms*

An Armored Trooper with safety features isn't a VOTOM. 5/10

Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger: Adventure Heaven:

The fully CG environments are badly integrated as always, it looks like a DLC area in a videogame

The framing device of a long lost childhood friend screams 'BLEACH movie'

No Quarry :(

The final fight has a great monster costume and over-the-top choreography

All is forgiven 7.5/10

Turkish Star Wars: This movie is incoherent and violently funny at times. The reversed star wars footage that implies the heroes are the empire, the lore dump about Islam and the constant reuse of Indiana Jones music...I think this might be the first movie with a negative Bechdel Test score. -8/10

Andor: I'm resisting the urge to make some kind of snarky comment here, I think because I'm so used to Disney Star Wars delivering creatively bankrupt slop, but like, this was incredible. I can't speak for some of the threads that might get wrapped up in a second season, but this really nailed the banality of evil/tapestry of cause and effect thing it was going for. Is Andor my new favorite Star Wars character? The dialogue was good? like really good????? HUH???? 9/10

Vilja in Skyrim: Sorry 2016 Elder Scrolls community, but this wasn't good. It was 2016 and everyone could handle grating sound quality for a modicum of virtual affection. I however cannot, and I don't intend on fully unpacking that she if a little fantasy racist. 4/10

Half Life 2: Episode 1: VR: This may have been impressive at the time, but the first hour being mostly waiting for Alyx to stop talking to open doors is not good game design. Maybe it was just compounded by the sense of being stuck more since it was in VR, but this convinced me to not finish the episodes in VR. 4/10

The Black Hole: It's painfully dull and in a post-Star Wars world I see why people didn't like it. It has some great concept art ruined by a script that feels like it was out of the black and white era, and I mean that in a bad way. It has the aggressively white futurism and inconsequential woman who screams, but none of the charm that can make those amusing in the modern day. The only interesting thing it does is have the villain go to hell trapped in his goofy robot for some reason. 2/10

The Last Starfighter: Hey look! A hero's journey! Looks like someone actually learned the right lessons from Star Wars. I found this to be incredibly charming and a couple moments (and not just the ones you might be thinking) really stuck with me. 8.5/10

Cowboys & Aliens: Everyone lied to you. This movie whips ass. 7/10

Skyrim Saints and Seducers Extended Cut: Incredible what a little story, some great voice acting, and a small open world space can do to make a paid mod pop...if only another mod wasn't required to make it happen. This thing really puts the bandit camp as content trough to shame. Delightful. 7/10

Armor Hunter Mellowlink: I think this show has a pretty good time with it's novel premise of 'taking a gun to a giant robot fight'. I'm probably not doing enough to praise this show, the episodic structure kept if feeling fresh for most of its run. I do think a few skirts a little too close to well-worn Votoms territory (like the battling arenas) but it does enough to differentiate itself. However, I do think that Arity and Lulucy don't make a particularly compelling team and it makes the last act drag. 7/20

Skyrim Creation Club/Anniversary Edition: For completions sake I actually tried to knuckle down and clear all of these and here are my thoughts.

The Cause - Probably the closest these come to being real content. New environments, reskinned enemies and half-decent quest design do a lot to make me ignore the aura of CC content. I'll admit I was even a little excited when the second quest proc'd. 5/10

Ghosts of the Tribunal - Initially exciting, but primarily fetch-quest content ping-ponging between NPCs that can't really talk gets old. I never really felt like I was infiltrating a cult, more like doing fetch quests for a faction more than joining one. 4.5/10

Forgotten Seasons - OH BOY A HUGE DWEMER RUIN, NEVER SEEN THAT IN A MOD BEFORE. Jokes aside it actually had some interesting mechanics and themed areas. A little light on story. 4/10

Player homes - Meh, at most I used some of these as crafting tables, but I have better ones for mods and I don't really use player homes as anything other than a follower holding area. 3/10

Armor sets/weapons - The majority of the 'quest' framing devices are so paper thin, they should have just thrown the armor in a chest somewhere if most of it boils down to a quest marker from a note you need uesp to find. If they were going to put in this little effort, I would have been less insulted if they just respected my time and not tried at all. 2/10

Fishing - I hate that this is permanently part of my load order. I can't remove it. 0/10

Project AHO: A gem of a little mod. While the value proposition of another player home doesn't really do much for me, I had a blast with this self-contained adventure. If anything, I kind of wish it kept the handicap of being trapped without your items going longer because I felt myself doing the rare role-playing in this RPG. Part of me wishes the ending could have incorporated some form of reform or radical action in response to being enslaved by the Dunmer, but I suppose I could have just gone on a rampage once I got free. But instead of bemoaning what it doesn't have, I'll compliment what it does: Solid writing, fun secrets and some cool spells.7.5/10

The Queens Corgi: This is one of those kids movies you shouldn't let your kids watch. Not because of the monarchism (It makes that look lousy in its own way), I'm talking about the bizarre messaging this thing is loaded. For example, the love interest is explicitly a gold-digger stripper dog. When some 90's cartoons could get away with stuff like that, this movie has 0 charm to back it up. -6/10

Demolition Man: The movie is fun enough and the action is a great watch. However I can't untangle this movie from what it has become in the modern day. Knowing that this is genuinely what a lot of people my dad's age think the real world is like now makes me bummed. whatever commentary is completely droll to me. Even on the positive side, this movie can't really escape the modern lens. At least we got baffled by the international version that has Pizza Hut instead of Taco Bell. 6.5/10

LIFEFORCE: I'd love to see this re-edited to let the mystery breathe. Frontloading the space stuff (obviously meant to be in the middle) and seeing 'based on the book SPACE VAMPIRES' really flattened the suspense in a way I found funny. otherwise, this movie had a lot of great VFX and an unexpected zombie apocalypse in its final act. I like it when a movie escalates and surprises me. Neat. 7.5/10

Mission Impossible I: Getting around to watching the first three of these has put a lot into perspective. This one really is the template for that the series settle into with 4 and onwards. Good action and stunts with fun concepts. I good first draft. 7/10

Mission Impossible II: I'll be honest I didn't really like this one. The Y2K time capsule didn't mesh particularly well with the mismatched John Woo-isms. It would have been more fun if it committed harder to either, but it just didn't work for me. Perhaps to undue focus on a romantic plot that we all know will never be referenced again kind of ruined it. 4/10

Mission Impossible III: Are you telling me that Abrams directed this? I COULDN'T TELL. I'm glad the series took wild swings to find an identity though. 5/10

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny: Sauceless. Every element that makes Indy work is not present here. Action? Meh. Music? Nonexistent after the first 20 minutes. Harrison Ford? Rendered in CG with no light behind his eyes. Humor? I don't think I smiled. Punching Nazis? Somehow they managed to make that not satisfying. Maybe it is the forced late-60s lighting, direction, or modern Disney visuals, but it lacks that tangibility that made the originals so gripping. But once again I am left wondering why Disey's only idea for 'Legacy' intellectual properties is to make Harrison Ford's character old, divorced, and pathetic. I can see how you'd try that angle once, but it seems like such a maladaptive strategy for a company that wants to sell t-shirts and toys to adults. Reminding my dad that things only go downhill is a bad way to sell Blu-rays. 2/10

[lunagb]

A Plague of Sleet and Rot (ASoIaF x The Walking Dead fanfic)

BOOK 2 - A Road of Snow and Grime

CHAPTER 1: The Long Road

Masterlist

Summary: A month has passed since Jon Snow awakened on a highway outside of Atlanta and joined Rick Grimes and his fellow survivors. His memories of his death have returned and our alien world is beginning to make a bit of sense. Ever since the loss of the CDC, surviving in the apocalypse has been a daily struggle. The group is on thin ice. Supplies are dwindling. Hope is fading. The dead are walking. And their only chance for life may be a run-down farm, an old man and his daughters.

Relationships: Daryl Dixon x Carol, Rick Grimes x Lori Grimes, Carl Grimes & Sophia, and basically a friendship tag with Jon Snow & Everyone else except Shane.

Chapter Summary: Jon and the group journey down a highway in search of shelter and supplies. Along the way they encounter death, decay and walking corpses while all the while, an ever-increasing horde chomps at their heels.

Time Frame: Farm Arc - TV Variant Adjacent

Featured Characters: Jon Snow, Ghost, Mormont's Raven, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Lori Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Carol, Sophia, Dale, Glenn Rhee, Andrea, T-Dog, Edwin Jenner, Shane Walsh

Warnings: gore, vivid descriptions of dead bodies, child mutilation

[Art above is a piece by Art.of.Azrael. You can support them here: https://linktr.ee/Art.of.Azrael ]

Any notes are appreciated!

“Corn! Corn! Corn!” The pest, Mormont’s raven, complained from its perch atop the RV’s overhead cabinets.

“No! There’s no corn!” Jon shouted.

The damnable raven bobbed up and down, eyed Jon with its scarred eye and muttered nonsense words.

Jon sighed and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “Sorry. Where were we?”

“Trust,” Jenner said. The doctor sat across from Jon in the cramped booth of the RV, sullen and sweaty under the glare of Georgia’s summer sun. The past three weeks had done nothing to help the man’s already sour disposition. Lines marked a once smooth face. Grime darkened once cream-blonde hair. A dirty, matted beard hugged his face from mouth to neck. He regarded Jon with accusing, sunken, weathered eyes.

“Yes, trust.” Jon paused to put together the proper words in his mind. “It’s not that we don’t trust them. It’s just that the timing isn’t right. We’re too vulnerable. When we’re in a better position, that’s when we tell them.”

“Keeping the truth from them only makes them more vulnerable. They need to know now.”

“I agree.” Jon made sure to soften his words. “They do need to know, eventually. But right now, such a truth will only serve to dash their hopes. And hope is all they have. Without it, all of this falls apart.”

“No. The truth will make them stronger,” Jenner said.

“How can you of all people believe such a thing? Look what happened to your fellow doctors when they were confronted with the truth.”

Jenner shook his head. “These people are different.”

“Diff-rent!” The pest cawed from its cabinet perch.

“Men have their limits, Jenner. Even the strongest of them.”

“Not just men, remember? We don’t refer to collectives as men in this world, we say people. Keep it gender neutral.”

Jon’s cheeks burned. “Oh, yes, right. I forgot. Sorry.” Jon cursed himself without words. Jenner’s lessons had helped him a great deal in understanding this strange world. But there was a lot to learn and not enough room in Jon’s head to remember it all.

Jenner smiled a gentle smile. “Try again.”

“People have their limits.”

“Good. And yes, they do but I feel like you’re underestimating theirs’, Jon. You and Rick.”

Before Jon could give his rebuttal, the RV’s door flew open. Glenn poked his head through the doorway, struggling for a breath, drenched in sweat. Travel on the highway had sunken his cheeks and granted him a peppering of black stubble. “Guys, Daryl’s back.” The words tumbled out of him then as quick as lightning, he hurried away.

Jon rose from the padded seat of the booth. “Jamie Lannister killed the last dragon king.”

“Huh? Excuse me?”

“Our arrangement. A lesson of your world for a lesson of mine. Jamie Lannister or Kingslayer was a member of King Aerys II Targaryen’s Kingsguard and son of Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West. He slew the man he was sworn to protect with a gilded sword when all was lost for the King’s cause at the climax of Robert’s Rebellion.”

Jenner whipped out a notepad and a stub of a pencil and began scribbling down the words. Curiosity blazed in his eyes. “And what year was that?”

Jon had to think back to Maester Lunwin’s lessons. “283 AC.”

As Jenner scribbled down the date, the pencil used up the last of its lead. “Damn. That was our last one.”

“Have Glenn add pencils to the scavenging list.” Jon turned for the door. “As for our discussion. We will continue it later.”

“La-ter!” The raven swooped onto Jon’s shoulder.

Jenner rose too. “We will.”

Jon exited the RV and the midday sun greeted him; a blinding glare reflected off the highway’s black asphalt. He squinted through the glare and grit his teeth through the heat. Georgia seemed to be getting hotter each day. The summer of this land was relentless. It baked everything, all the time. Even at night while the sun slept, a muggy heat persisted. And still, Jon wore his cloak and mail. A folly, he knew. But they afforded him a strange sense of safety and in times such as these, safety was as luxurious as silk.

Carl and Sophia nearly tripped him as they raced past the RV towards the camp’s exterior, a palisade of broken cars. Oblivious to Jon or anything, they ran off giggling amongst themselves; a rare treat. Laughter had become a rare sight among the children since the CDC. Carl had taken to brooding and complaining. The foolish lad insisted he went on every scavenging trip, no matter how many times he was forbade. Even going as far as wearing his father’s hat with the golden star as if it made him appear more capable. When he was forbade, as he always was, he would spend his time wallowing and raging as far away from everyone as he was allowed. During his sulks, he only ever permitted Sophia for company. Sophia wasn’t much better. The girl refused to speak to anyone that wasn’t Carol or Carl. And insisted on carrying a stuffed pink bear that Daryl had found in a sewer drain everywhere she went. When the girl did talk, it was hardly ever more than a whisper. For the life of him, Jon couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually seen the girl laugh let alone smile, even when with Carl. Oftentimes, when the group made camp along the highway, they would sneak off into the woods. No matter how many times they were scolded, they continued to do it, putting their lives at risk.

Jon took note of everyone and what they were doing. Watching was important. It let Jon know how stable their little community was. Instability would be the death of them and addressing it as soon as it showed its ugly head would keep them alive.

Jenner had taught Jon how the titles of Westeros had no meaning in this world. But regardless, Jon found it useful to think of everyone as having a title.

Across from the RV, the group’s stewards, Lori, Carol and T-Dog worked around a pitiful, little fire. Several crates of supplies surrounded them. Carol, their seamstress, sewed patches onto damaged clothes. She had a heaping pile of work; most clothes were damaged nowadays. T-Dog, their cook, picked through their meagre food rations to organise meals. He had half a crate to work with and not a very large one either. They chatted with smiles and laughter despite the circumstances. Lori, their First Steward, lost herself in her counts. She went over everything with a piece of paper in hand. Counting all their supplies and comparing them to the tally Glenn had left her.

When Lori noticed him watching, she flagged him down with a wave. “Jon! I can’t find any pencils, have you seen any? I need one for the count.”

“We’re out it seems,” Jon said.

“Out!” Echoed the raven.

Lori sighed and kneaded the bridge of her nose. Jon studied her face. Dark bags loitered under her eyes. Travel had tangled her hair into brown, greasy, dangling ropes. Weathered lines marked her face. By all accounts, quite normal. Out on the road, they’d lost the privilege of a consistent wash. Fussing over one’s appearance had become a habit soon forgotten. Mirrors were a scourge best avoided. Jon’s own hair had become a tangled mess and his beard had returned as an itchy shag.

“That’s my bad,” Jenner said. “I used up the last stump.”

“What for?” Lori snapped.

“I have my own tallies to keep, you know,” Jenner lied. “You know, the medicine? The thing that keeps you all healthy?” A half lie.

If it were any other lie, Jon would have corrected it. But the lie was for his sake, he knew. Even after everything, the group still believed Jon to be somewhat mad. It wouldn’t serve to have them believe the only doctor had gone mad with him.

“You should have asked,” Lori scolded.

“Pencils will be added to the scavenging list.” Jon moved between Lori and Jenner. “For now, try making charcoal from the fire.”

Lori wrinkled her nose. “How?”

“I’ll show you once we’re done convening with Daryl,” Jon said.

Carol lifted her head from her work with a gleam in her weathered eyes. Her once short hair had grown into the awkward phase between short and long. Her already thin frame had thinned her to near mere skin and bones. “Daryl’s back?” Carol ran her hands over her stained blouse, flattening the many wrinkles.

“He is,” Jon said. “Feel free to join us.”

“Jon!” T-Dog called out. “Let ‘em know lunch’ll be ready soon.” T-Dog had gained the hearty facial hair of a man. A great curly black beard strapped his jaw, neck and upper lip. It stood in great contrast to his hairless head. The muscles that had once made him as stocky as a bull had shrunk, leaving him lean yet still broad of shoulder.

“I’ll let them know,” Jon said as Carol joined his side.

Dale, who had been working at the engine of the RV, called out. “Let me give you a hand setting the table, T-Dog!” He put down his spanner, wiped the grease from his hands on a rag and hurried over to the fire. His gut, once round and plentiful had all but receded. He'd almost look young if it weren’t for the bushy, wild silver beard and thick silver eyebrows to match. Together, Dale and T-Dog carried over a collection of food cans, a pot of rice and an assortment of potato chips to a long plastic table that Glenn had discovered in the basement of a church.

If Dale hadn’t joined them on that scavenging trip, they’d have never looked at the table twice. But Dale had insisted they bring it back with them so the group could share their meals together. Strapping the damn thing to the back of the jeep had taken a combined effort of the whole scavenging party. And even with the effort of four strong men, Dale, and Andrea, it had been a tedious process. Everyone had thought them mad when they returned with it, themselves included. Although, Jon had to concede that the table had value after all. Bringing everyone together for meals, rather than eating alone, breathed an otherwise absent sense of normalcy into their bleak circumstance. It made them more than a group of survivors. It made them a community. Jon only wished the blasted table wasn’t so prone to collapsing on itself.

Jon followed Dale to the table. “Dale, how goes the RV’s engine?” For a lack of horses or ships, Jon thought of Dale as their Master of Engines.

Dale laughed. “Oh, the old girl’s hanging in there. The new parts we found last scavenge will keep her running just fine, don’t you worry.”

Jenner regarded Dale with a plain look. “And the others?”

“Well… the jeep’s on its last legs. I can keep her going for a little while longer but unless we find some fresh cylinders that fit her engine, she’ll break down sooner rather than later. The range rover’s good as ever. As for Daryl’s bike, I’ll need to look it over once he brings it here.”

“What about gas?”

“Enough for the next stretch of travel, even if the hoard has gotten closer than we thought, but we’ll need to siphon more once we make camp again.” The light faded from Dale’s face.

The mere mention of the hoard caused an unsettling silence to linger over the group. It had followed them from the city. First, as no more than twenty or so walkers but with each day that passed, it only grew larger. They’d done their best to shake it off their trail but no matter how far they drove or how many twists and turns they took along the highway routes when Daryl drove back to check on it, it was always still there, stalking them. Daryl’s last report had counted the hoard as numbering 200 in strength. Jon fretted to think what their numbers looked like now.

The damnable raven broke the silence with two screeching caws. “Hoard! Hoard!” Which earned the bird a unified look of contempt from all. Mormont’s raven hadn’t received the warmest of welcomes when it followed Jon back to their camp. Tensions had already been high and the raven’s incessant cawing had only made things worse. Daryl liked the raven least of all. He’d threatened to skin the bird more times than Jon could remember. Not that it ever fazed the creature. Every time it cackled a caw of, “Skin, skin, skin!”

Jon gave Dale’s shoulder a squeeze and spoke with the voice of Lord Snow, Lord Commander of The Night's Watch. For their sakes. “I doubt the hoard is any less than a week away. We’ll have plenty of time to scavenge again before it makes it anywhere near us.”

A smile reappeared on Dale’s lips. “That’s right. That’s what Rick tells us time and time again, ain’t it?”

“Y-Yeah. It is,” Carol said with a thin smile.

“As long as we keep ahead of it we ain’t got nothin’ to fear,” T-Dog said, grinning.

“That’s the truth,” Lori declared. “And once we find someplace proper to settle down we’ll hunker down and let it pass right over us, just like we do with the smaller herds. Then we’ll be free of the dead.”

Jenner said nothing but the look he gave Jon made his position clear. It wasn’t the time or place to resume their discussion, however, so Jon turned his attention to the only other person who said nothing. On top of the RV, Shane sat in a plastic chair with a rifle in his lap, overlooking the highway. Ever since the CDC, he’d nary said a word to anyone, except to volunteer for day watch. His once orderly hair had grown into an unkempt, curly mess. A once stocky face was now weathered by stern lines and sunken cheeks. At all times, his eyes remained fixed on the boundless highway. Beyond the limits of their modest camps.

“Shane, have you seen Ghost return?” Jon asked.

“Nope."

“Let me know when he returns, won’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Yup!” the raven echoed.

Any disdain the group held for the raven, went double for Shane. Although, it remained unspoken. Shane had hardly spoken a word to the group and the group hardly ever spoke a word to him. Jon figured it better than outright hostility. It had taken quite an effort, but Jon had managed to put Shane’s actions at the quarry camp aside. The past was dust after all, as Maester Aemon had often said. If their group were to survive in the present they needed as many capable hands as possible.

“Ghost!” The raven cawed, interrupting Jon’s thought. “Ghost!”

Ghost had been out hunting for a few days now, as long as Daryl had been gone. Jon had found it best to let Ghost hunt only when Daryl left. All Daryl did when he wasn’t scouting or scavenging was hunt. Jon had once made the mistake of letting Ghost hunt at the same time as Daryl. The direwolf had stolen every single one of Daryl’s kills, which Daryl made sure to let Jon know about, loudly. Game was scarce around the highway. More often than not, Ghost would return from hunts with his jaws coated in rot rather than the blood of game. Jenner had often assured Jon that Ghost couldn’t become infected at all, let alone from eating the dead. Yet, the sight of Ghost's jaws matted with rot always left Jon feeling uneasy. But there was naught he could do about it.

“T-Dog, how goes our food supplies?” Jon asked.

T-Dog dodged his eyes and answered with little more than a mutter. “We’ve got four days left, and that’s if we half the rations.”

Jon glanced at Carol and her twig arms. “We’ll keep the travel light. I’ll talk to Glenn about organising a scavenge as soon as we make camp again.”

“This will have to be our last lunch for while, I think,” Lori said, clutching her tally paper. “When Rick gets back, I’m going to recommend we step back to one meal a day.”

A silent wave of despair washed over the faces of the group, except Shane who didn’t seem like he’d even heard. Jon kept his own face sturdy. Hunger no longer frightened him as it once did when he was a green boy. All he could do was have faith that their group had the strength to persevere. Even when the hardest of times reared its misshapen head.

“I’ll pass on your message when I see him,” Jon assured Lori. The assurance softened her weathered gaze somewhat, but it did not rid it of its despair.

Together, Jon, Jenner and Carol left the huddle of vehicles and crude shelters of the interior of the camp for the palisade of abandoned cars that formed the exterior. Abandoned cars littered the highway wherever the group went. Most had been left in the middle of the road, almost absentmindedly. Others they found crashed into the ditches and barriers that shouldered the highway. The, at first, seemingly useless inconveniences had in time proven to be a vital resource. The cars often had supplies left abandoned inside them. They ranged from the mundane such as briefcases full of papers and pens, to vital items like medicine and food. But even more importantly, the abandoned cars had parts that could be repurposed to suit the group’s vehicles. Jenner had spent the better part of a week recently trying to teach Jon how cars worked. Despite the man's best efforts, Jon couldn’t comprehend the machinery. At least he didn’t believe them to be magic anymore, Jon supposed.

Rick, Glenn and Andrea worked together to roll a car out of the way to allow Daryl to reenter the camp on his motorcycle. A two-wheeled vehicle that one straddled like a horse and had an engine that roared louder than any car. Daryl had discovered it in a ditch a few days after the CDC. He had worked day and night with Dale over the course of their first week on the road to get it up and running. But that was before the hoard, back when they could afford to be idle like that.

Sullen and silent, Daryl dismounted his motorcycle and walked it through the opening in the palisade of cars. His hair, longer and greasier, hung over his eyes. The rugged features of his face were dark, like a storm, as they often were nowadays. Although, he did brighten up a bit somewhat as he noticed Carl and Sophia watching him. Carl marvelled at the motorcycle as he often did. While Sophia, who had been staring at him, dodged his eyes the moment his met hers. Daryl opened a satchel slung around his shoulder and pulled out two brightly coloured plastic packets with pictures of queer creatures that Jon couldn’t possibly imagine to be real.

“Here,” Daryl gave Carl and Sophia a packet each. “Found ‘em in a van.”

“Whoa! Cool! These are fifth gen. They only came out recently,” Carl exclaimed as he marvelled at the packet.

“What do you say, Carl?” Rick said with the sternness of a father. The beginnings of a salt and pepper beard were growing on his face to match his salt and pepper hair. Sunken cheeks paired with sunken eyes. And dark bags beneath said eyes paired with a dark bruise across his temple that he’d earned during a scavenge. A mountain of a walker had come bursting out of a room as Rick passed by. The door slammed him across the side of the head hard and threw him to the floor like a sack of flour. A daring throw of a knife from Andrea fell the walker, sparing Rick from a bite. A matter of seconds had made the difference between life and death. Jon could still picture it clear as day; the rotting teeth inches from Rick’s arm.

“Thank you, Daryl,” Carl said, staring at the packet.

“Sir,” Rick corrected.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Sir!” The raven cried.

Carl giggled. “Sir!” He echoed back.

The raven flapped its wide, black wings. “Sir! Sir! Sir!”

“You too, Sophia,” Carol said. More of a suggestion than a command.

Sophia glanced at her mother, Daryl, then clutched her pink bear to her chest. “Thank you, sir…” She whispered. In the next heartbeat, she darted away and ran back towards camp with Carl in tow.

“Sir!” The raven cried.

Daryl scowled at Jon. “That little bastard’s still followin’ you around, huh?”

In another life, that word would have soured Jon's mood. He chose to unhear it. “He is a persistent creature.”

Carol greeted Daryl with a meek smile. “You didn’t run into any trouble did you?” She asked.

“Naw, it was fine.” Daryl and Carol had formed a strange friendship of recent, Jon had noticed. The pair seemed about as unlikely friends as Robert Baratheon and Rhaegar Targaryen. But yet, friends they had become, of a sort.

“And the hoard?” Andrea interjected. “How many now?” Andrea was only four years Jon’s senior, but one would be hard-pressed to tell nowadays. Travel had made her the very image of Lady Stark, only with golden hair. Her face - hard, weathered and plastered with a permanent scowl - granted her the disposition of a warrior. As a woman, she may lack grace, but as a fighter and ranger, she outclassed nearly all of them. Jon could best her in blades, but little else.

The storm returned to Daryl’s face. “It’s doubled again.”

“Four hundred…” Andrea whispered, breathless.

“It doesn’t matter as long as we keep ahead of it, right Rick?” Carol asked.

Rick glanced at her and frowned. “How far out do you reckon it is, Daryl?”

Daryl clicked his tongue. “It’s slowed some. Maybe, a week and half, maybe two.”

“And it’s still following us?”

“Yup. It’s passed over the crossroads and headed our way.”

“That means we can’t go back, right?” Andrea asked. “We’re stuck on this branch of the highway until the next crossroads.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Glenn said quietly. He’d become something of a First Ranger. Always the one to organise scavengings and put together the teams. Dale had helped him study the maps but Glenn had surpassed his teacher as the authority on all things maps.

“We can work around that,” Rick said. “The dead walk. We drive. So long as we’ve got our wheels, there ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of.”

“Daryl,” Jenner interjected. “You should go tell the others what you saw. They’ll want to know.” Jenner shared a look with Rick and Glenn that the two dodged.

Daryl gave Jenner a queer look. “Uh, sure doc.” He rolled his motorcycle off into the camp. Carol followed after him.

“I’ll go too,” Andrea said. Once Daryl left earshot she added, “to make sure he doesn’t terrify anyone.”

“Right,” Glenn said, staring at Jenner.

“Good idea, Andrea. Make sure they stay calm,” Rick said, also keeping his eyes on Jenner.

Andrea nodded and took off after Daryl. As she headed off, Rick, Glenn, Jon and Jenner shared tense gazes. The tension only broke once Andrea left earshot.

“Rick-” Jenner began.

“No,” Rick snapped. “Dammit, how many times do I gotta tell you two no?”

“Come on, man. It’s almost been a month. They deserve to know,” Glenn said.

“We’ve discussed this,” Jon soothed. “The knowledge that we’re all infected will only dash their hopes.”

“I didn’t tell you so you could all keep it a secret,” Jenner snapped. “I told you because-”

“I heard you the first five times,” Rick said.

“You clearly didn’t because here we are. It’s just practical sense. We need all the information possible to survive in this world. Keeping something like this from them only serves to keep them ignorant.”

“And hopeful,” Jon said.

“No, it ain't practical,” Rick said. He sighed and softened his voice. “Right now, they believe that something separates them from the dead. That, us and them are opposing forces. If they knew that the virus lies dormant inside all of us and that only death separates us from them, they’ll break. The only thing keepin’ us united right now is the hope for a better future free of walkers. Once we’ve got some stability off of the highway, then and only then can we take that hope away from them.”

“And when will that be, Rick?” Glenn asked. “We’ve been out here for three weeks now. Last week was meant to be the last week, as was the week before. We’ve passed by a bunch of towns we could have settled down in but you said no to all of them. When is it gonna be good enough?”

“Those towns were overrun,” Rick said. “You saw that, as well as I did.”

“Every town’s gonna be overrun, man. You heard Jenner, the first wave hit everywhere at once. 35% of the population gone.” Glenn snapped his fingers. “Just like that. We aren’t gonna come across a town that wasn’t affected.”

Rick ran his hand through his greasy, salt-and-pepper hair. “Look… I know I promised you that the end of this was near. And I’m sorry I went back on that. But this time I reckon it’s close. We’re out in farmin’ country now. You know the map better than anyone, Glenn. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“We will be passing by some farms soon,” Glenn relented.

“And we’ll check ‘em out when we do. I’m confident we’ll find a place we can settle down in.”

“And how long will that take?” Jenner asked, scowling.

“Not long, I promise. No longer than another week at most.”

“Once we have a place to call our own, that’s when we tell them,” Jon said. “It’ll cushion the blow.”

Jenner shook his head. “You’re underestimating these people. They’re by far some of the strongest men and women I’ve ever met. Hell, even the kids have got more guts than some of the people I worked with.”

“That is where you misunderstand me.” Jon gripped Jenner’s shoulder firmly. “I don’t doubt their strength. Not even a little. But we all know how fear affects the mind. Most likely our group could handle the truth; some even better than you and I. But there is the distinct possibility that they don’t take it well and that risk, however small it may be, isn’t worth taking right now. Not while we’re so vulnerable.”

“Risk!” The raven cawed. “Risk!”

Jenner knocked Jon’s hand aside and his scowl flared.

Glenn stroked his chin. “That… makes sense. I hate to admit it, but it does. But you better commit this time, Rick. I swear.”

“I will. I promise, this time we’ll find a place,” Rick said.

Jenner looked aghast. “You can’t be serious, Glenn.”

“Sorry, doc,” Glenn said with the meekness of a boy.

“It ain’t a tie no more, Jenner. You’re outvoted. We wait,” Rick said.

“Let us put this constant bickering behind us, shall we? So that we may focus on more pressing issues.” Jon again tried to reach out for Jenner’s shoulder but Jenner knocked his hand away.

As wrathful a blizzard, Jenner marched back to camp but, after a few paces, suddenly turned around. “You know, the government hid all kinds of shit from you people before the world fell! Terrible, awful things! It was wrong then and it's wrong now!��� Jenner snapped on his heels and marched back towards camp.

“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!” The raven cawed.

“Should we stop him?” Glenn asked.

“No, he won’t tell,” Jon said.

“You sure?” Rick asked.

“I am.”

Suddenly, the underbrush beyond the highway rustled. Rick and Glenn drew knives from their belts. Jon drew Longclaw. Each of them had a holster with a gun on their belt but they’d run out of ammo weeks ago. The three of them, without a word, formed a small V-formation with Jon at the front and Rick and Glenn on his flanks. Jon’s breath caught in his chest as he waited for the emergence of a rotting, shambling corpse.

But it was only Ghost. He padded out of the woods, nonchalant as a wolf of his size ought to be. They all breathed a sigh of relief and put away their blades. Jon offered his hand to Ghost. Ghost accepted, pushing the top of his head into Jon’s palm.

“Good hunting, boy?” Jon asked. He found his answer in the fur of Ghost’s jaws. It was brown; matted by rot.

Jon stomached the unease with a sort of sullen grace and turned back to Rick. “There’s something else we must discuss.”

“Sure, hit me.”

“With regards to our food. We’re running dangerously low. T-Dog and Lori both agree that we need to cut rations if we are to go more than couple more days with food. Lori has even suggested we cut back to one meal a day.”

Rick blinked at Jon, unfazed. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“I also promised them we’d keep this travel short and so that we might scavenge soon.”

Rick nodded. “Glenn, how far out are the farms?”

“Not far, a day at most.”

Rick nodded again. “We’ll take a day to pack, and a day to travel. Glenn, put together a team for scavenging when we arrive at the farms, a big one. Jon, get some rest, it’s past time. I don’t want you dozin’ off during night watch.”

“As you command.” Jon caught himself at the last moment. He didn’t bow his head or utter the courtesy, remembering what Jenner had taught him. There were no Lords or Kings in America.

***

They left their camp at first light in a single file of four vehicles. Daryl rode out ahead on his motorcycle, alone. It had been Jon who suggested making Daryl their scout. “The road will undoubtedly be full of blockages. Abandoned cars, walker herds and who knows what else,” he had told them. Jon knew what else. He didn’t dare say it, even to Rick; the distinct possibility that other people may want what little they have. Men are cruel in the best of times, let alone times like these.

While Daryl scouted ahead, Shane’s jeep led the way carrying only Shane, Ghost and the plastic long table. Jon would have preferred Ghost to travel with him but the direwolf was far too massive to fit anywhere else. Ghost could run fast, faster than any horse but the unnatural pace of an engine outmatched even him. Jon could have rode with him, there was room enough but all men must sleep and he was oh so tired.

Per Rick's command, Jon lay in the back of the RV, on a bed with a mattress of stone and sheets as thin as paper. He gazed out the back window at the tail of their column of cars. T-Dog drove a car known as a range rover. It carried all their supplies; food, water, medicine, clothes, camping gear; all scavenged. The meagre size of the supplies put the range rover's spacious interior to waste. Andrea sat beside T-Dog with an ammoless rifle in her lap, watching the woods with suspicion.

Everyone else road with Jon in the RV, in the middle of the column, in silence. Travel was often accompanied by silence. It ought to make for easy sleeping and yet, Jon lay awake, staring at the woods through the back of the RV. Dark, deep and green, the woods were a leafy abyss that followed them everywhere. They absorbed all sound and sight; equal parts shield and cell. Walkers often came stumbling out of the woods. Jon found himself wondering how the poor souls ended up in the woods in the first place. Were they murdered like the corpse he’d found the raven feasting on? Mayhaps. Were they exploring or hunting when the first wave swept across the lands of Earth? Mayhaps. Mayhaps, they’d lost their lives valiantly, defending the weak and innocent.

The rising sun twinkled off the green abyss oh so beautifully.

A voice spoke. A hand gripped his shoulder. Jon awoke staring at the RV’s waxy, peeling ceiling but he could not remember falling asleep. “Jon.” The hand shook him. Rick loomed over him. “Get up.”

The weight of a mind bogged down by sleep weighed on Jon as he rose from the RV’s bed. “Have we arrived?”

“No.”

“No!” The raven shot over Rick’s shoulder with a flurry of fluttering black feathers and landed on Jon’s knee. A film of wet rot covered its beak. “No!”

“There’s a bunch of cars piled up on the road. We’re gonna clear ‘em out of the way. And there’s a graveyard.”

“Out this far?”

Rick nodded. “Go with Daryl and scout it out. I wanna know how many cars we need to clear and how long we’ll be stuck here. Take Ghost,” Rick said.

“As you command.”

When Jon left the RV any lingering grogginess sobered at once. The stench of death attacked him. It assaulted his nose and throat in a desperate charge, making him gag for the first time in weeks. A ring of cars sat in the middle of the highway, drenched in blood and rot. Rotting corpses piled up against the exterior of the ring. A mound towered, forming a rotting ramp up against the palisade of cars. Inside the ring, a crust of blood and rot coated all. Fresh bodies lay strewn about and half devoured. Scattered weapons sat out of reach of their rotting owners. A huddle of collapsed and bloodied tents as well as several spilled crates rested in the centre. It all festered beneath the scorching summer sun, high above in the cloudless sky. Hoards of fat, black flies swarmed the corpses with a sickening chorus of buzzing wings that rang in Jon’s ears.

The group went about their duties. Rick hurried to help T-Dog and Glenn roll the cars least enveloped by corpses and open a lane of the highway. Jenner, Andrea and Dale sorted through the interior of the massacred camp like a band of crows. They worked together to collect any food, water, medicine, weapons or ammo left behind. Shane sat alone in a plastic chair on top of the RV, watching over the rear with an ammoless scoped rifle. No one opened any of the cars. Not yet anyway. Walkers liked to linger inside locked cars and ever since one tried to bite Andrea all those weeks ago, scavenging cars was done in teams with blades in hand.

Everything scavenged was brought to Lori, Carol and the children by the RV. They sorted them into piles and packed them into crates. Carol sorted the valuables into piles. Lori scribbled everything down onto an inventory with a piece of charcoal. Sophia scrubbed away rot from valuables on the pile. Carl packed anything clean into crates. Judging by the scowl on Carl's face, the argument that always broke out had broken out. The one about the dangers of scavenging and Carl’s age. The lad didn’t know when to give up. Stubbornness was as much a part of children as leaves were a part of trees, Jon supposed.

Jon would have be helping move cars too but per Rick’s command, he went to join Daryl. He found Daryl beyond the palisade and corpses in a car graveyard. A stretch of scattered, abandoned cars that ran the length of the highway. An eerie sight that Jon thought he’d seen the last of. Outside of Atlanta, car graveyards had been an almost daily obstacle. The long and arduous process of clearing them had already added extra days to their journey. Days they could scarcely afford to lose. But it had been close to a week and a half since they’d come across one, let alone one this massive. It stretched on and on, down a straight and around a distant bend.

Jon found Ghost by Daryl’s feet and greeted him with a pat. Ghost wagged his tail and pressed his head into the pat. “I’m to join you,” Jon said to Daryl.

“Yup. Let’s go.” Daryl started off without sharing as much of a fleeting glance Jon’s way.

“Yup!” The raven took flight and flew ahead.

Jon, Ghost and Daryl made their way through the graveyard side by side. They passed by flipped cars, crumpled cars and tangles of twisted steel. Scorched chassis, like the blackened skeletons of great beasts, shivered Jon's spine. Shards of glass covered the road. Jon worried for Ghost’s paws. But the direwolf avoided the hazards with swift and silent, surefooted strides. Rot smeared everything and its stench lingered everywhere, but there wasn’t a walker in sight. Even so, Jon kept his hand on Longclaw’s hilt and Daryl held his crossbow level with his eye, cocked and ready to fire. After a long, silent walk, they reached the bend in the highway. A semitrailer truck had flipped, blocking off seven lanes. It was there, Jon decided to break their silence.

“What do you think this was?”

“Don’t know,” Daryl more grunted than spoke.

“More victims of the first wave, perhaps? Or maybe just a panic?”

Daryl answered with silence.

“And that camp. It looked like some kind of final stand.”

Daryl scanned the scattered cars with his crossbow’s sight.

“Was it recent, do you think? The walker attack?”

Ghost stopped. His fur stood on ends and he barred his fangs. At once, Jon and Daryl stopped.

After a pause, Daryl whispered. “Something’s out there.”

Jon strained his ears and only heard more silence. He held his breath and strained his ears. A faint gurgling wafted through the air. Jon gestured to the turned-over semitrailer truck with his head. Daryl nodded and they climbed on top. Ghost waited on the ground, baring his fangs in the direction of the faint sound. On the truck’s side, they found the raven perched on a wing mirror. With its good eye, it stared out around the bend, at a distant hoard of walkers. Dense and packed tight, the hoard shuffled in their direction. With all the speed rotted legs allowed.

Daryl squinted at the hoard and teetered a finger back and forth in a silent count. “Thirty, give or take.”

“Manageable, then.”

Daryl nodded. “Yup.”

“How far out?”

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, then back at the hoard. “An hour.”

“Not enough time to clear all this.”

“Yup.” Daryl leapt off of the truck and started back.

Jon held out his arm to the raven. “Time to go.” He patted his forearm

With a flutter, the raven perched, muttering nonsense under its breath all the while. It often liked to mutter when the dead are nearby, almost like a sixth sense, Jon had noticed. Although, it also muttered when it was hungry, so Jon had learned to ignore the pest. Yet, he found himself listening anyway.

“Arm…” The raven muttered. “Arm…” It scratched its scarred eye with its wing.

***

Smoke billowed high into the air, snapping and twisting like a dancing black ribbon. The others had already begun to toss bodies into the great fire by the time Jon, Daryl, Ghost and the raven returned. Rick and Glenn took what once had been a young girl – no older than Arya – by its hands and feet from the great mound of corpses. As they lifted it, its arm snapped with a soft crunch and fell apart at the elbow with a gush of black sludge. What had once been blood splattered on Rick’s shoes and stained his stained jeans. Staining them a further shade of grime-brown. Rick neither flinched nor wretched. Instead, he stared at the corpse blankly and helped Glenn toss it into the fire. The flames ravaged the corpse like a pack of hungry feral dogs. Its dress, dirtied and rotting, burst into flames and disintegrated into flakes of ash that floated like falling feathers. Embers twinkled in the ashes, like red and orange stars. As the body shrunk and burned, the flames swelled and whipped. Everyone watched. Some from afar. Some up close. Soon, Rick and Glenn’s turn would end and another pair would take over until the job was done, or until it was time to leave.

Rick turned from the flames and met Daryl’s eyes with that same blank look. “How far?”

“A mile or so,” Daryl said.

Rick scorned the graveyard with a scowl.

“There’s another hoard,” Jon announced.

All eyes snapped to him at once. Except Shane’s. His remained glued to the road at the rear.

“Hoard!” The raven announced.

“Coming this way?” Andrea asked. She remained seated, as did everyone.

“Yes. Daryl counted thirty or so.”

Daryl nodded.

“How far out?” Rick asked.

“Hour,” Daryl said.

Rick nodded. “We hunker down then. Y’all know what to do. Be quick about it.”

Everyone stood as one and went about their duties without complaint. Glenn and Andrea beat at the fire and smothered it with dirt. Carol and T-Dog packed away the crates of supplies into the range rover. Lori supervised, taking count of all. Dale stepped inside the RV to collect t-shirts and blankets for the windows. Jenner followed him for a bucket. Shane turned his chair around atop the RV and watched the graveyard. Carl and Sophia should have helped Dale but instead, Carl ran up to his father, determined as a mule.

“Dad! Me and Sophia want to join Jon in the rear this time.”

“Carl…” Rick sighed.

“Please! We’ll keep real quiet and real low!” Carl promised, shouting. A boyish confidence gleamed in his eyes. “It ain’t fair Jon always has to stay there on his own! Right, Sophia?” Carl looked to Sophia. Sophia looked at the ground.

“Have you asked Carol?”

“Yeah! She said to ask you!” Carl said.

“And that’s the truth, Sophia?”

Sophia recoiled as Rick’s eyes went to her but she nodded all the same.

Rick sighed. “The RV’s safer. You-”

“No it ain’t,” Carl interrupted. “As long as there ain’t any gaps in the shirts or blankets, every car’s as safe as each other.”

“He’s right,” Daryl said.

Rick raised an eyebrow. Daryl avoided his eyes. “Well… he is…” Daryl muttered and glanced at Sophia.

Carl beamed at Daryl like he owed him his life. Sophia glanced at Daryl. A wisp of a smile flashed across Daryl’s lips. Rick kneaded the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. But I’ll be lookin’ at your windows when you finish and if I see even a single gap, you’re back in the RV,” Rick said.

“Deal!” Carl ran off with Sophia in tow.

Rick watched him with a face of fret and worry.

As light as a feather, Jon touched his shoulder. “If there were any real danger, we’d hide in the woods when we encounter herds, or confront them with blades. I’ve been safe in the range rover every time. Every time.”

“Safe! Safe!” The raven cackled. Jon swatted at him and the pest fluttered from his shoulder, still screeching. “Safe! Safe!”

Rick shook his head. “When we encourage him like that, it only makes him bolder.” He looked at Daryl. Daryl looked away.

“What are you guys doing?” Jenner interrupted. He approached from the RV, carrying a bucket. “Why haven’t you got the corpses?”

“Right. Sorry.” Rick looked at Jon and Daryl then gestured to the mound of corpses with a flick of his head. “Come on.”

“Yup.” Daryl approached the pile.

He grabbed a corpse by its ankles and dragged it from the mound. Jon and Rick did the same. They lay their corpses out beside each other in a row. Rick and Daryl drew their knives. Jon drew his dagger. They knelt. Ghost sat beside Jon on his haunches, silent but comforting. Mutilating the dead never got any easier. But it was as vital as stealing from their corpses. As one, they plunged their blades into the dead and opened their bellies into long slits. Black blood wept from the slits like tar seeping from a bog. Jenner knelt and placed the large bucket at the heads of the dead then joined Jon’s side. The four of them spent the next several minutes scooping rotting guts into the bucket in silence. Once the bucket had been filled, they left the dead where they were and started lathering the cars in rot. The bucket held enough to cover the jeep and half the RV before it required refilling from new corpses. By the time it came to lather the range rover, nary a word had been spoken. No one spewed. They were long past that.

Carl broke their silence. “Look, no gaps!” He declared, gesturing to the range rover.

Rick inspected every inch the range rover’s windows. Inside, shirts and blankets had been secured to the windows with a strange tool known as duct tape. It held the shirts and blankets to the inside of the windows, windscreen and back window. They covered them in their entirety and forbade an outside gaze to peer inside the vehicle. While Rick inspected, Dale showed Jon an empty cardboard roll.

“That’s the last of it.” Fear thinned Dale’s voice.

“We’ll find more. Take it to Lori. Let her know,” Jon said.

Dale gave a small nod and headed off for the RV. Jon looked over his shoulder at the distant graveyard. Where the herd was; hidden from view. He prayed they reached these farms before they encountered another.

Rick returned to Carl with the unreadable face of a father.

“Good, huh?” Carl asked.

“Yes,” Rick muttered. “Great job, son.”

Carl grinned at his father then Sophia. She gave him a tiny, thin smile.

“Carl.” Rick crouched before his son and grabbed both his shoulders. “You listen to everything Jon says. You don’t argue. You don’t talk back. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“You too, Sophia.”

Sophia’s smile vanished and her eyes snapped to her shoes. She hugged her bear and nodded. Rick squeezed Carl’s shoulders, looked him over and stood. A wary scowl darkened his dirty, weathered face.

“I’ll keep them safe. I swear it. On my honour,” Jon said.

“Safe!” The raven cackled as it circled above.

“Are you done?” Jenner asked, standing beside the bucket of rot. “We don’t have all day.”

Rick nodded. “Yes. Yes, okay.”

“Yes!” Carl cheered. He flung his arms around Rick’s waist. “Thanks, dad!”

A smile fended of Rick’s darkness and he returned his son’s hug. The hug lingered until Carl wriggled out of it, blushing as pink as a morning sky.

The children stood back with Ghost as Jon and the others lathered the range rover with rot. From rim to roof, they turned the once blue vehicle brown and black. They took extra care when lathering around the engine bonnet. Rot had a nasty habit of clogging engines.

Once the range rover was sufficiently lathered, Rick, Daryl and Jenner left with Ghost in tow. The direwolf was far too large for the range rover. When it came time to let herds pass, Ghost stayed in the jeep with Shane. Shane had no fondness for the direwolf but there was no arguing with Ghost. Trying to move him once he had gotten nice and comfortable was a sure way to lose a hand. Or an arm.

“Carl, Sophia. Come here,” Jon said once the others had left.

Carl was before him at once while Sophia took her time approaching. Jon put on the face of Lord Snow, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and directed it at Carl for the most part.

“This is not a game. Understand? You will keep your heads down and your mouths shut. Silent and still.”

Carl gave him the look of a boy trying his very hardest to be a man. “We will. We’re not scared.”

“You should be. The dead are scary.”

“Not to us. We’re strong.” Carl’s voice dropped low, as low as a boy’s voice could go.

“Strong people fear death, lad. Only boys laugh in its face.”

Carl scowled.

“If you want to be brave. You’ll sit there quaking in your crusty boots until I tell you its safe. Am I understood?”

Carl glanced at the RV. “Yes…”

“You too, Sophia.”

Sophia glared at him with sharp eyes. Jon could only blink at her, as the look to him aback. She looked as fierce as some starved dog at its wits end. The look only lasted a moment then in the next, as her eyes locked with his, she was a meek little girl again, clutching her pink bear.

“Yes,” Sophia whispered.

Jon cleared his throat. “Good… Now, get inside and practice being quiet.”

Carl wrinkled his nose but did as he was bid. He tugged on the car door’s handle and hopped inside. Sophia followed him and the two of them sat in the row of seats behind the driver’s seat. The range rover had an unusual layout compared to most vehicles, Jon had noted. It housed two rows of seats rather than one, and that second row could collapse to increase the size of the trunk. Truly, the ingenuity of this land never ceased to amaze him. Even if it only lived on as relics of a better time.

The raven landed on the roof of the range rover. It pecked at a chunk of rotten flesh and swallowed it whole. “Good,” it muttered. “Good.”

***

The stench of rot clawed at Jon’s nose and loitered in the back of his throat as he sat inside the range rover. A month ago he would have gagged merely laying eyes upon a sight such as a car lathered in rotting guts. And if he had been forced to sit inside he would have been counting down the seconds until he could leave. But those days had passed. The seconds slipped away from him as he sat in the darkness and musty air, waiting for Shane’s call. The shirts and blankets which covered the windows forbade light’s entrance. Shadows loomed over them, like great sentries on a tapestry of filthy cloth. Silence garbed their troupe of rot-covered cars; their shield and their torturer. Without sight nor sound, time seemed little more than a fable. A sensation Jon had grown accustomed to but never comfortable with. It felt queer to not experience it in solitude.

Solitude had been his decision when Glenn first suggested the idea of hiding from herds in such a manner. The RV’s windows – high above the ground – gave the most protection. All one had to do to stay out of sight was lay on its carpeted floor. It only made sense to ensure as many people as possible could wait out herds in its protection. But they couldn’t all fit. Jon had volunteered for the range rover at once. He had armour to keep him safe if anything were to go awry. Shane had volunteered for the jeep. Why exactly, Jon couldn’t say.

But now, Jon sat between two children whose number of name days combined was less than his own. They were still at the very least. Carl was a statue, back straight, head high. His hand rested on his knife's hilt. Sophia trembled, back hunched, knees tucked to her chest. Her arms crossed over her bear, hugging it close. Jon pitied the girl. The shadow of a father hangs heavy on the strongest of shoulders, let alone a child's. Given time, it will make her strong. The raven sat in Jon’s lap, as it always did. Jon stroked its long, black feathers. Nothing else kept the pest from muttering when the dead marched on by.

“Walkers!” Shane’s voice split the silence, carrying high into the air like rolling thunder.

“Down, now,” Jon whispered.

He slid off his seat and sat on the soft, carpeted floor of the range rover. Stiff as a plank of wood, Carl did the same. Sophia scrambled for the floor. On the floor, beneath the windows, their silhouettes were consumed by the dark.

“Feel your fear,” Jon whispered. “But keep it within. Silent and still.”

Silence answered him; the correct response. And silence followed. For a time. Until it began. The faint gurgling and hissing of the dead wafted through over the troupe. The gurgling and hissing grew louder and clearer until the first thump beat like a great, metal drum. Thump, thump, thump. The uneven, soft rhythm of mindless corpses walking themselves right into the cars. But then, a new, unfamiliar sound cut through it all. Tap. Tap Tap. Three beats, sharp and even. Distant and faint. But as the gurgles and hisses drew nearer and the hoard thumped against the RV, it happened again. Tap. Tap. Tap. The same even, sharp three beats, again. Louder and clearer. Jon touched Longclaw’s pommel, stupidly bringing his hand away from the raven.

“Safe,” it muttered.

Jon cursed himself without words and stroked the pest’s feathers, praying the dead hadn’t heard. The first thump came, right against the range rover’s hood. A walker hissed a gurgled complaint. Shadows danced upon the shirts and blankets; the uneven teetering of the deads’ march. Jon did not have to see, to feel Sophia’s trembling. He knew better than to offer a touch as comfort. A touch come Jon’s way though. Carl gripped his arm with strength beyond a boy of eight namedays. His grip trembled as it tightened.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Three sharp knocks rapped against the windows. A shadow slunk along the tapestry of shirts and blankets, slower than the others. It neither teetered nor wobbled, rather it moved as if it slid across ice. Tap. Tap. Tap. The knocks came harder this time; more incessant. It rocked the range rover; gentle like a cradle. The sickening sound of peeling tape dropped a pit in Jon’s stomach. A shirt dropped a mere inch. A slither of light slipped inside the range rover. At the gap, a peering, rotting eye appeared at the window. Tap. Tap. Tap. In a flash, Carl whipped out his knife. Hot wrath burned across his face beneath the slither of light as he kept his gaze locked with the eye. Sophia whimpered and backed up as far as she could with a soft thump against the opposite side door. Every shadow froze as one. The gurgling and hissing gave way to a brief silence.

The eye disappeared and a piercing howl of a cry erupted from outside. The hoard raged and every shadow descend on them. Sophia wailed. The dead wailed back. The car door flew open. Jon grabbed Carl and yanked him back. Rotting hands of blackened fingers and long, yellow nails descended on them. Carl screamed a wailing sob of a scream and stabbed the air with his blade. The mindless creatures fought amongst one another to crawl inside. Jon kicked at the dead with all his might. His heel lay a corpse limp in the doorway. For a brief moment, it clogged the advance. Jon’s mind raced for an escape, for a solution, for a trick. He found it over his shoulder. Behind him, the other door had but a few shadows at its windows. They were scraping uselessly at the door, complaining with hisses and wails. Mere whispers compared to the roaring cacophony before Jon.

“Sophia! To me!” Jon grabbed for the girl.

Sophia screamed as if the dead were upon her already. She flailed, kicked Jon’s hand aside then drove her heel into his face. A rotten hand took hold of Jon’s ankle. He cursed, and caved the walker’s skull with a kick. And in that brief moment, Sophia flung the door open. Screaming and crying, she dove between a waiting walker’s legs and scampered for the woods.

“Sophia!” Jon shouted. Sophia's screams peaked and she ran faster.

Dragging Carl, Jon hurried out of the range rover after her. Two walkers met him. A white blur fell them with a flying lunge. Ghost crushed one’s skull with his paw as he tore the other’s head from its shoulders with his jaws.

“Carl?!” Rick bellowed.

“Sophia?!” Carol screamed.

The others were out on the highway in the thick of the hoard. Back to back, they formed a tight circle formation. They stabbed at the dead over and over and over again, felling walker after walker. Jon couldn’t spy a way past the hoard to join their formation.

“To the woods, now!” Jon shouted at Carl.

Carl nodded and sprinted for the woods. Rick, Lori and Carol all made a move to break their formation.

“Stay where you are! Maintain formation!” Jon drew Longclaw and fell a walker descending on him. “I’ll go after them!”

Jon didn’t stop to wait for a reply. He bolted for the woods, sprinting with all his strength. Ghost stayed behind and fought with the others. In an instant, the woods swallowed up the commotion of their battle, veiling Jon in silence. It didn’t take long to catch up to Carl but Sophia was far off in the distance. Weaving and ducking, she sprinted through the thickening tangle of trees and brush.

The raven flew overhead. “Safe! Safe!” It cackled.

Jon vowed to skin the creature.

"Skin, skin, skin!"

“Sophia, stop!” Jon shouted.

“Sophia!” Carl echoed.

Sophia ran harder but Jon was gaining on her. Roots snagged his feet and low-hanging branches whacked him in the face. He kicked the roots and slashed the branches with Longclaw. Sophia seemed within reach. But as Jon made a grab for her she disappeared with a scream and dropped down out of view. Jon skidded to a halt as the slope of a steep valley presented itself amongst the brush. Sophia tumbled down the slope and crashed into a stagnant pool with a splash. In a flash, she was standing. Sobbing, she struggled to wade through the water on the weak legs of a child. Carl leapt over the edge, splashed down and chased after her with as much the same difficulty. Bubbles rose to the water’s surface. They burst with sprays of mud and black sludge. The bubbles frothed the surface as if the pool was at a boil.

“Out of the water, now!” Jon bellowed and scrambled down the slope.

Three walkers shot up from beneath the water, slick with mud. Their skin hung from their flesh like scraps of sodden cloth. As they wailed a gurgling wail, mud flowed from their mouths. They descended on the children. Two of them headed for Carl while the other perused Sophia, separating the children. Carl and Sophia drew their blades. Sophia held her knife out in front of her with both hands, shaking like a leaf. She faced her pursuer for but a moment only to then wail and turn, struggling through the mud towards the shore. Carl held out his knife low below his hip, twisted so his shoulder faced the dead and shouted a warring scream. The dead wailed back. Jon splashed down, drawing the attention of one walker away from Carl

The mud beneath the water may have been enough to hinder the weak legs of children and the dead, but not Jon. He raced through the pool, surefooted as a soldier marching the King’s Road. His blood boiled hot. A high slash from his valyrian steel rid the once-man of its head, heralded by a spray of black blood from its neck. Jon rushed to aid Carl, the closer of the two. The remaining corpses launched their attacks. One slashed at Carl, trying to grab his arm. While the other's fingers brushed the collar of Sophia's shirt.

Carl drove his knife into the walker’s palm, blocking the attack. He screamed and charged it, ramming his shoulder into its chest. The walker stumbled. It didn’t fall. Carl did. He fell face-first into the water and the walker descended on him. It opened its mouth, ready to bite the nape of Carl’s neck. Jon seized the walker by the shoulders and flung it off onto its back. As it hit the water with a muddy splash, Jon drove Longclaw’s point between its eyes. Its death blood blackened the water.

Carl rose from the water, coughing and spluttering. “Sophia!” He choked.

Splash!

The walker chasing Sophia threw itself at her, tackled her and knocked the knife from her hand. Sophia screamed, wailed and flailed as they both came crashing down. Jon charged across the water as Sophia wrestled the corpse. She took a hold of the walker’s face and pushed it away with all her might. But the walker kept on coming, gnashing its rotten jaws inches from her face. Jon grabbed the walker’s shoulders. Sophia’s hand slipped. The walker lunged and it’s slick skin slipped between Jon’s fingers. Sophia screamed and crossed her arms over her face. The walker sunk its teeth into her forearm. Jon tore it away, taking a chunk of flesh with it. Sophia’s life blood gushed and sprayed as she screamed a wailing, choked scream. Rot festered in the bite.

“No!” Carl screamed. He scrambled through the water, thrashing against the mud’s grip.

Jon cut off the walker’s head before the foolish boy got himself bitten too then wasted no time. He seized Sophia, flung her over his shoulder, raced her to the shore and threw her down into the muddy silt. Jon held out Longclaw with steady hands. Sophia looked up at him, silent and still, her face a mask of ice and stone.

“Hold out your arm, now!”

Sophia did so at once.

“Arm!” The raven cried.

Sophia shut her eyes and clenched her jaw. Jon heaved Longclaw above his head.

“What are you doing?!” Carl cried.

Jon cleaved Longclaw down onto Sophia’s elbow. The blade ate through flesh and bone in one clean cut. Sophia’s life blood sprayed from the stump. She let out a blood-curdling scream and writhed among the muddy silt, wailing long guttural sobs. Carl raced to her side and dropped to his knees, bawling. Jon’s mind raced. He hadn’t thought this far. Jenner hadn’t told him what to do past this. The bleeding, Jon realised. He needed to stop the bleeding. He thought back to lessons from Lunwin, from Aemon. The lessons brought him the answer. A tourniquet. Jon dropped Longclaw and ripped his belt from his jeans. Longclaw’s and Needle’s scabbards fell to the mud.

“Move, lad!” Jon shoved Carl aside and fastened the belt around Sophia’s upper arm until her flesh bulged around it. The spray of blood petered out into a gentle gush. Sophia’s eyes rolled back into her head and she went limp. Her chest rose and fell; staggered and rapid.

Carl tugged at Jon’s cloak as if trying to pull him to his feet. “We gotta get her back! We gotta save her!” he cried.

“I know!” Jon snapped. He flung the lad off of him and hoisted Sophia over his shoulder. She weighed as little as a newborn babe.

“I-I’ll go ahead!” Carl shouted. “For help.”

“No! You’ll stay by my side. Where I can see you.”

Jon bolted past the lad and across the muddy pool. Black blood swirled around his shins and mud grabbed at his boots, trying to suck him down but Jon was stronger. He charged across the pool and struggled to scramble up the valley’s slope one-handed. A short climb was made long and tedious. So tedious that Carl managed to catch up. Surefooted as a mountain goat, Carl raced up the slope ahead of him and waited at the top.

“Hurry!”

“Hur-ry!” The raven echoed.

Jon let his frustration erupt as a beastly shout as he dragged himself up the slope. The scars of his right hand ached as horribly as the day it’d been burned all those years ago. Once at the top, Jon lowered his head and broke out into a sprint. Carl chased at his heels, his face beet-red as he huffed, puffed and choked on sobs. Jon felt like sobbing too. But he didn’t. Strength could save Sophia. Tears would only blind him.

As they burst from the woods, back onto the highway, Andrea fell the last walker by thrusting her knife into its eye.

“Jenner!” Jon bellowed.

All eyes snapped to him. Carol screamed. The rest erupted into a chorus of shouts. They sprang into action at once. Jenner barked orders, pointing this way and that. T-Dog and Glenn rushed to the range rover and retrieved a plastic tarp. Dale got the medical kit from the RV. Andrea hauled over a jug of water. Rick held Carl back, hugging him to his chest. Lori knelt beside him, stroking his hair as the lad broke under the weight of his grief. Daryl restrained Carol who fought feverishly to free herself. She reached for her daughter, clawing at the air. Shane stood idle, watching from afar.

As soon as T-Dog and Glenn lay down the trap, Jon lay Sophia on it. Jenner knelt by the severed arm.

“A tourniquet. Good thinking. Andrea, water! Dale, the kit!”

Andrea dropped the jug at Jenner’s side.

“Jon, clean the wound!” Jenner barked at he snatched the kit from Dale.

Jon twisted off the cap and poured water all over the wound, washing away mud, silt and life blood. Water pooled in the tarp, red and stagnant. Besides Jon, Jenner raged. He flung the kit aside, sending it skittering across the asphalt.

“No bandages! Give me shirts! Now! Clean ones, dammit! Jon, lift her arm!”

Jon lifted her arm up straight. T-Dog tossed a pair of t-shirts at Jenner which were only partially stained. Jenner wrapped the stump up in a shirt. Using both hands, he held it in place.

“Jon, hold it in place.”

Jon took over for Jenner’s hands and held the shirt around the stump.

“Has she hurt her head or neck?” Jenner asked.

“No. Just the bite on the arm,” Jon blurted.

“She was bit?!” T-Dog yelled.

Carol wailed and kicked to get free of Daryl. Daryl buried his face into her neck, hiding his face as he restrained her tighter. His arms bulged and trembled.

“Yes! Why else do you think I cut off her bloody arm?!”

“Doesn’t matter. Glenn, lift her legs!”

Glenn scrambled over, dropped to his knees and lifted Sophia’s legs into the air.

“No, not that high. Twelve inches. Lower. Yes, that’s good. Keep them there.”

Blood began to soak through the shirt. Jenner swatted at Jon’s hands and wrapped the other shirt on top then Jon held the new layer over the old. Jenner sat back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair, eyes darting.

“Fuck…” he muttered. “Now what?”

“What do you mean, now what?!” Jon shouted.

“I’m not a doctor, Jon! I’m a virologist!” Jenner rapped his knuckles against his head. “Come on come on come on come on. Think, dammit.” His eyes widened. “The arm! Where’s the rest of the arm?!”

“In the woods and bitten.”

“Shit. Okayokay. Uh… a plastic bag! Get me a plastic bag!”

Andrea sprinted to the range rover and came back with a plastic bag. Jenner snatched it from her and placed it over the stump bound in shirts.

“Now, ice! Anything cold!”

“Ice?” Jon wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly.

“The hell we ‘posed to get ice from?!” Daryl shouted.

Jenner groaned and held his head in his hands. “God… Help me move her then. She at least needs some place comfortable.”

“I’ve got her feet, ready when you are,” Glenn said.

Jenner nodded and took Sophia under her arms. “Jon keep that arm elevated.”

“Will do.”

“Alright. On three. One. Two. Three.” Jenner and Glenn lifted Sophia together. Jon stood with them, keeping her stump elevated.

They carried her to the RV as if she were made of glass. Carol and Carl fought to follow, but Rick and Daryl kept them bound.

“Gods have mercy, let Carol go!” Jon shouted as they approached the RV.

Daryl looked to Rick. Rick nodded and he let go. Carol scrambled out of Daryl’s arms and followed after them inside the RV.

“Will she survive? Is she infected? Please, god, don’t tell me she’s infected!” Carol cried.

Jenner said nothing until Sophia was laying on the RV’s mattress. When he did answer, his voice was low and grim. “Time will tell. She’s strong though. I have faith. Jon, let her hold the arm.”

Jon nodded and relinquished the arm to Carol. Although Carol trembled and sobbed, once she took hold of her daughter's arm, her hands became as steady as a blacksmith. Jenner put two pillows beneath Sophia’s feet and ushered Glenn and Jon out of the tiny bedroom. He afforded Carol some privacy by closing the door behind them.

“How long after the bite did you sever the arm?” Jenner whispered.

“Immediately. As you said to.”

“Right away? You didn’t hesitate or move her first?”

Jon bit his lip. “Well… she got bit in a pool of dirty water. I carried her to shore first. You said not to sever the limb where infected blood could get into it. But it only took a second.”

Jenner clicked his tongue and glanced at the closed door.

“Do-Does she have a chance? Any at all?” Glenn asked. His olive skin had turned a shade of ghost white.

“Normally… yeah. In a hospital with doctors and antibiotics… Out here though? She might wake up before she passes. At least she’ll be able to say goodbye.”

Tears brimmed in Glenn’s eyes. Jon fought off his own. “I should have never let them in the blasted car…”

“Wh-What do we do when she dies?” Glenn asked, lips trembling. “What do we tell them?”

“The truth,” Jenner grumbled. He shouldered past Jon and marched outside.

The raven fluttered in as the doctor left. It perched on the cabinets and bobbed up and down. “Truth, truth, truth.”

Jon’s vow to skin the pest still tasted fresh on his tongue. But he hadn’t the strength for it. His arms felt as if they weighed twice as much. As did his legs. Every one his joints ached and a rhythmic throbbing pounded away in his head. The throbs came in triplets. Throb. Throb. Throb. Each one more painful than the last. Jon staggered for the RV’s exit. The stale air shortened his breath. As he came upon the exit a searing wrath surged through him, setting his flesh and bone ablaze. Outside the RV, Ghost poised to leap. His fangs bared in a silent snarl. His fur puffed and stood on ends. His red eyes bore into something out of view. Jon stepped out the RV and followed his eyes. A fist greeted him.

***

Jon awoke face down on the asphalt. Blood flooded his throat. Shouting barraged his ears. A great pain stabbed at his shattered nose. With a groan, he rolled over to see Ghost on top of Daryl, gnashing his jaws inches from his face. Daryl squirmed under the direwolf but Ghost had his front paws on Daryl’s arms, pinning him down.

“You killed her!” he screamed. “You killed her, you bastard!” He locked eyes with Jon, boring a deathly gaze into him. Tears stained his rugged, weathered cheeks.

The others were shouting, trying to scare Ghost off of Daryl. But when any got close, Ghost snapped his jaws at them, sending them scuttling back. All was unfocused, blurred by a murky mind. However, Dale’s voice cut through it all, clear as a summer sky.

“You alright, son?” Dale grabbed his arm.

Jon accepted the help and leaned into his grip to stand. He tried to speak but a flow of blood clogged his throat and he only sputtered blood instead. Once on his feet, his vision cleared. Distraught panic had set in among the group. Jon could hardly blame them. Only Shane seemed oddly clam. He stood behind Rick, watching all transpire with a face of stone. The raven circled overhead screeching, “Bast-ard, bast-ard, bast-ard, bast-ard, bast-ard!”

Jon swallowed blood and shouted with the voice of a Lord Commander. “Ghost! Enough!”

Ghost snapped his jaws one last time, inches from Daryl’s face before backing off and skulking to Jon’s side. Daryl scrambled to stand. His eyes were wide, manic pools of violence. He drew a knife. Rick kicked the back of his knee. Daryl buckled. Shane ran forward and leapt onto his back, slamming Daryl back to the asphalt. He dug his knee between Daryl’s shoulder blades and pinned his arms with either hand.

“Stay down,” Shane hissed.

Daryl thrashed. “Fuck your slut mom, pig!”

Shane dug his knee further between Daryl’s shoulder blades. Daryl cried out and ceased his thrashing. Tears welled in his eyes and all the hate drained from him like a flagon sprung a leak. “He killed her, he killed her, he killed her,” he groaned. The knife rolled out of his grasp.

“No,” Shane looked over his shoulder at Rick. “He did.”

“The hell you say?” Rick’s face became a storm.

“You heard me! Y’all know it’s true!”

“The hell we do!” Andrea shouted.

“He’s the one who put the kids in the rear! That was his call. Look where it got ‘em!”

“Shut the hell up, man!” T-Dog stepped forward, fists balled.

Rick stopped him with a touch to the chest. “No… He’s right.”

“Fuck no, he ain’t!” Andrea said.

Rick shook his head. “I should’ve known better. I take full-”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Carl screamed.

“Shut it, Carl!” Shane snapped.

Carl raged. He ran past his dad and drove the heel of his boot into Shane’s face with a wet crunch. Shane fell off of Daryl with a pained shout, cradling a smashed nose. Rick snatched Carl’s arm and dragged him, throwing him off his feet in the process.

Carl fell to the asphalt. He sat by his father’s feet, glaring at Shane. Lori crouched beside him and tried to wrap her arms around him but Carl wriggled free. His fists balled. His arms trembled. He breathed loud, frantic breaths that flared his nostrils. “It wasn’t my dad’s fault! Or Jon’s! Or mine’s! Or anyone’s! It was the walkers!” Carl snarled that last word. “They opened the door! They scared Sophia! They bit her!”

Silence lingered, festering in the air.

“Bit!” The raven cawed.

Daryl struggled to his knees with a bowed head. “I-I’m sorry, Jon. I don’t know what…”

Jon swallowed blood. “You’re forgiven.” He wiped the blood from his gushing nose, freed himself of Dale’s support and stepped forward. “Talk of blame is a folly best left for times of peace.”

“Folly,” Shane chuckled. He spat blood onto the asphalt. “Shut the hell up, kid.”

Lori stepped forward in front of Carl. “Go back to your little plastic chair, Shane.”

Shane’s face of stone shattered into a meek little scowl and he shambled off.

“Best we organise ourselves,” Jon continued. “Focus on solving this crisis rather than on where it originated.”

The group shared a round of nods before looking to Rick as one. Rick put on the face of a lord as he addressed them.

“Jenner?” he asked. “What do we need to save her?”

Jenner sighed. “A hospital.”

Rick nodded. “Glenn, does the town we’re headin’ to have a hospital?”

“Uh, kinda. It has a clinic and a vet.”

“Will that do, Jenner?”

“I mean… they might have antibiotics and painkillers if it hasn’t been picked clean already. But that won’t be enou-”

“Great,” Rick interjected. “Glenn, how far of a walk to the town from here?”

“I don’t know… it’s like twelve miles and that’s if we go straight. That way,” Glenn pointed to the woods, from the direction Jon had come from.

“Half a day.” Daryl mumbled, staring at the asphalt.

“We’ll need a team, who do you think, Glenn?” Rick asked.

“Let’s keep it small. We gotta move fast. You, me, Daryl and Jon. Together, Daryl’s sense of direction and Ghost’s senses will be better than any map. And Ghost only goes where Jon goes. Maybe leave the raven though, if you can.”

“If I would, I could,” Jon said.

“Could would! Would could!” The raven cawed.

“Jenner too,” Rick said.

“Why me?”

“You know what we’re lookin’ for, and you’ve done all you can for her here.”

Glenn nodded. “Makes sense. Jenner too, then.”

Jenner sighed and looked to Lori. “Taking care of her is simple. Change her bag every few hours. Change the shirts in the morning. Wash the wound between shirt changes. Keep her legs elevated and her arm. Can you manage that?”

Lori nodded. “We can.”

“Andrea, you’re in charge while we’re gone,” Rick said.

“I’ll keep ‘em safe. You just hurry along now,” Andrea said.

***

Longclaw lay in a bed of mud and silt beside its scabbard and Needle and Sophia’s rotting, severed hand. Jon sheathed the valyrian blade and attached it and Needle back to a new belt. After ensuring the latches were secure, Jon scooped up a handful of mud and covered the hand. Rot had already corrupted the severed limb. The skin had blackened and shrivelled. The fingers had curled into hooks. Covering it was a mercy. Jon saw no point in returning it to Carol. It bore no resemblance to human flesh, let alone Sophia. It more resembled rotting fruit than anything. It’d only serve as a reminder that hope is as slippery as ice; hard to grasp, harder to hold.

Jon smoothed mud and silt over the shrunken black thing and rose to his feet. Atop the slope of the valley, Ghost sat by Rick’s side, watching Jon with those piercing red eyes. A great sadness snuck up on Jon, forming a pit in his stomach. The cut on his nose gifted to him by Daryl itched.

“Got your sword?” Rick asked.

Jon nodded and patted the scabbard.

“Alright, well come on. Get up here. Let’s get a move on.”

“Right. As you command.”

Rick gave him a queer look, which Jon chose to ignore. Jon waded through the murky, stagnant pool. Black blood still floated on the surface, swirling around his legs as he waded through it. Amongst the mud and rot, Jon spied something bobbing on the surface. Something fuzzy. Hair, he realised. A walker. He froze, drew Longclaw and thrust the tip of the blade into the hair. But no black blood flowed into the water and there was no squelch of a blade piercing flesh. Jon lifted Longclaw to find Sophia’s bear skewered on the blade. No longer pink. Only black and brown and now with a hole through its chest. Jon sighed, freed the toy from his blade and tucked it under his belt. He wiped the grime off of Longclaw, sheathed it and started the climb up the slope.

With two hands instead of one, the climb was swift and smooth. Yet, the burn scars on his right hand still throbbed all the same. They hadn’t throbbed in years. Each throb flooded Jon with a scorching heat that clenched his jaw. I should have been able to save her. Sophia is but a girl and I am a man grown; a man of the Night’s Watch no less. When he clambered over the slope’s edge, he found Ghost baring his fangs. Jon looked behind him but saw nothing.

“What’s wrong, boy?” Jon asked, standing.

“Wrong?” The raven asked, perched high in a nearby tree.

Ghost put away his fangs and wagged his tail. Jon shook his head and ignored the queerness.

“That Sophia’s?” Rick asked, pointing to the bear.

“It is.”

“Good. Don’t lose it. She’ll need somethin’ to make her feel safe. More now than ever.”

Jon nodded. “I’ll keep it safe, I promise.”

Jon, Ghost and Rick joined the others waiting a little further ahead.

“Find it okay?” Glenn asked.

“Yeah, my gun too.”

“Good, that sword’s too valuable to lose out here.”

“Agreed.”

“Sword!” The raven cawed, flying overhead.

Jon expected Daryl to insult the pest, but the rugged man only stared out into the woods, away from everyone else.

“Come on, let’s get a move on,” Jenner grumbled.

“Glenn? Which way?” Rick asked.

Glenn unfolded a map and frowned. “North… I always used the highway to orient where we were. But now…” Glenn looked around at the green abyss that surrounded them. “Without a compass, I have no idea.”

“Ghost,” Jon said. The direwolf pricked up his ears and met his eyes. “Find, North.”

Ghost raised his snout to the air and closed his eyes. They opened, pools of blood amidst a shaggy coat of snow. He padded off into the woods a few paces then turned to look back at them.

Glenn stared at Jon, mouth agape. “No way you trained him to do that.”

Jon grinned. “Direwolves feel nature as if it is a part of them.”

Jenner’s eyes blazed with the same curiosity he had when Jon had spoken of the Kingslayer. It seemed the doctor had found his question to bring to their next lesson. Jon knew what question he would ask. Thinking of it robbed Jon of his grin.

“Let us dawdle no longer,” he said and followed after Ghost.

Ghost led them through thick brambled bushes, mazes of thin tree trunks and delicate little meadows hidden among the green abyss. As they went further, the forest closed around them. The tree trunks thickened and stood closer. The canopies blocked more and more sunlight until there was nary but a few stubborn rays to light their way. Mossy stones resolved to trip them with each step and twisted roots aided the effort. Silence lingered everywhere. Birds didn’t chirp. Insects didn’t buzz. No Frogs yelped. No underfoot creatures scuttled. Only the boots of their little troupe crunched against sticks and leaves.

It was in the deepest and darkest part of the woods yet, that they came across the stream. A thin, pale line glistened beneath spotted rays of sunlight. So shallow that Jon’s boots seemed to glide atop the surface and so thin that two steps were all it took to cross. Rocks huddled beneath the pale water, slippery but not hazardous if one were to pay them respect. Jenner, the last to cross, slipped on his second step. He stumbled forward and Rick caught his arm, stopping his fall.

Jenner muttered an awkward thanks and hurried away from the stream. They left it behind as they’d left behind everything in the forest. Little more than fleeting memories. Until a splash brought their attention back to it. They raced back to the stream, tripping on the thick underbrush with blades drawn. Ghost raced ahead, fangs bared. But as they erupted from the brush they all froze. Carl was on his rear in the water. A ray of sun gleamed off of the golden star of his hat.

“Carl?” Rick asked, keeping his voice low. “What are you doing here? Does your mother know?”

“Let me come with you.” Carl shot to his feet. His face hardened.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“You know why. I ain’t havin’ this talk again, here of all places. God… one of you’s gonna have to take him back.”

“I ain’t goin’ back! I’ll just sneak off again. I know the way.”

Rick stared at his son in a state between utter bewilderment and a flying rage. But before he could say a word, Carl shouted again.

“She’s my friend! I wanna help her.”

Rick’s face softened. He knelt before his son, in the water and took his hand into his. “I know, son. I ain’t ever gonna tell you you’re wrong to feel that way. But you’ll be better off protectin’ her at her side.”

Carl wrinkled his nose. “Andrea and T-Dog can do that. I’m gonna find the medicine that’ll make her better.”

“Carl…”

“I ain’t a kid anymore. I’m big. I can handle myself. I can kill walkers the same as any of you.”

“No, Carl. You can’t. One day you’ll be able to, if you must. But you ain’t got the skills yet, son.”

“Do to. I’ve killed five so far.” At once, Carl’s eyes widened as he realised his mistake.

Rick’s face darkened with a fierceness to tame a storm. “You what?”

“I-I-I,” Carl’s words tumbled from him. “When I snuck off with Sophia, we figured it out. We’re too small to kill ‘em like you do so we gotta run our shoulder into their chests to make ‘em fall. Then we stab them through the eye.”

Carl mummered a stab. Rick snatched his wrist.

“You listen to me and you listen good,” Rick whispered in a low, deep voice. “You never risk your life for no good reason. Never. This ain’t a game. Killin’ the dead ain’t a sport. It’s life and death. It’s-”

“I know-”

“Don’t you interrupt me.”

“It ain’t a game to me!” Carl’s arms trembled and his nostril flared. “We should be killin’ them! All of them! Every single one we see! They took everything from us!” Carl’s breathing became rapid. “Y-You all act like it ain’t gone! Like we can get it back! We can’t! It’s gone, forever and it’s all their fault!”

The bushes exploded with an eruption of rustling leaves and snapping twigs. A great stag, as tall as Jon and as long as Ghost emerged from the brush with a tall crown of antlers. Everyone froze as it stared at them. Silence lingered. Ghost bared his fangs at the stag. The proud creature stood its ground. It lifted its snout, making its antlers appear larger than life. A gurgling hiss wafted after the stag from the bushes. A walker stumbled from the brush, reaching and clawing at the air for the stag. Its eyes found their group and it changed course for them. Ghost moved right in front of Jon and lowered his head, ready to lunge. The stag lowered its antlers at the walker and scraped the ground. And as all eyes were on it, they weren’t where they ought to be.

“I’ll show you I can do it!” Carl broke free of Rick’s grip and charged at the walker.

“Carl, no!” Rick shouted.

Rick snatched at him. Carl dodged and Rick grabbed air. Carl bolted past the rest of them, weaving through grabbing hands as he drew a knife from his belt. He aimed his shoulder at the walker’s chest and bellowed a boy’s war cry. Thunder cracked. The walker’s stomach exploded. Then Carl’s. The boy gasped, clutched at his ruined belly and fell onto his back. His mouth gaped open and closed as his life blood pooled beneath him amongst the dirt and leaves.

[ppgxrrblove]

i have thoughts... my gosh if i had a dang type writer this.. this text phone crap reply here would be longer, but... gonna work with my cruddy phone here to reply to this horrendous mess that i read.. please guide me through this goddess of cheetos - cause i need it.

1. what do you mean lila was difficult to write? shes a villian for a **childrens tv show** which you had no problem slapping unnecessary inappropriate adult themed topics into it, mind you, how chloe moms a literal whore, so i question how is she difficult to write when you legit confirmed that you already flying through the seasons as if its a high class buffet bro - wow already done with 7, and 8 man that is nuts. i still don't understand how thats healthy and possible at all 🫠 but here we are y'all and you still find it hard to write one of the most basic blandist villians i have ever dang seen in my life.

my shounen jump manga's had better villian stories than yours lmaooo..... okay let me not, but, please just end it, it shouldn't be this complicated to. make a story for one villian unless your gonna make her... the villian for the entire seasons 'to come'.... oh my gosh that makes sense.. hmm or not??.. i dont know.

2. Alright i could just write a paragraph on how much of a BULLCRAP that is to justify they're terrible cheap writing they had done towards chloe.. i dont want to go into it but to point out the second point it's the way you finished her off is the problem.. how can you give a character a very much half baked story arc of becoming good than ditch her quickly in the next season, reset her dang change and act as if.. the progression of those episodes, topics never existed - like you made twitter viewers for this show call you out on it too. so stop lying.

3. I smell something off.. i know its roughly translated to get the point across but i dont get the feeling they had a nice goodbye with the jap folks they worked with at all around said time.. cause i may be wrong here, dont requote me on this but didnt mlb release in japan a bit late? the other thing interesting that you explain what 'happened' to the pv, because last i remember it was because you admitted, from what i read year back, it was because the artist didnt wanna draw the spots on ladybug suit.. hmm.. now your stating it was for something else? uhhh... i dont know.. i still feel iffy for this reason they gave out.

4.... the mlb pv may have been "dark toned" in your eyes buuut It was still artistically, highly factually objectively better than the trashy cgi that is now getting better cgi but with even more bad writing, from yall.. im sorry but toe did a wonderful job to boot a tooonee of people love that one than what you gave them which speaks volume. it just the pv makes more sense than the cgi and had a better song theme as well.. chat noir looked cool and ladybug suit doesn't look uncomfortable.. and questionable..over the time it has passed..people are noticing it hon, were not dumb. i digress but her ladybug costume looked waaay better and cuter i prefer that one more.

but yeah thats all i got.. poor chloe, i still love her though so comtinue to destroy she will still be queen bee and i believe that she got her redemption well made by the group of mlb viewers who did interesting concepts to posts on how she got her beautiful heroine shine

SEASON 6 SPOILERS BELOW... AGAIN.

And there goes what little solace I got from the end of "Revolution".

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Ahh I did vaguely see that on a summary I accidentally peeked at (when trying to figure out this schedule xDD it was rough man lol)!

Well good for Shaun and Lea then :DD!!

Oooh sextuplets, interesting

Ahhh okay so we'll see each of them on the different teams, I seeee, smart :))

Show wise I mean lol, like writing wise xD

Or at least most of the teams, if not all

Uh ohhh

Yeeeah some of that does not look good xdd

Plus babies for the theme after we just heard what Morgan admitted 👀👀 interesting

Ooh hi Jerome and Asher :DD my babeys <33

Was about to say I hope we still see Lea more than a tiny bit (yk since they're in teams doctor wise) but then I remembered they're literally discussing having a baby XDD of course we will lol!

Hmm and it also seems like there will be a bit of a faith/hope theme? Good vibes I guess, as I think I heard Shaun say at the end ther

Interesting!!! I'm vibing sounds fun :DD

Tense and therefore hard to liveblog bc I wanna pay attention but fun xDD

That's the last of my final thoughts! Now it's time for the. . .

REVIEW

I loved this episode! I really enjoyed the storylines, even if Shaun and Powell's, and Lea and Andrews' stressed me out XD

Not toooo badly but still

I felt like the episode was a liiiittle crowded plot wise, with all of them being there with individual plots (like in teams of two anyway), but I think it would be a bit better if I wasn't doing this lol, and behind while I did it xD. Still, I enjoyed it :))

Also Asher and Morgan's storyline was hilarious xDD

And a good thing to have with Park/Glassman's and Jordan/Perez's sadder ones xd.

Anyway! Let's start with Lim and Powell. Now that I think of it since I forgot Lim for a second there just now lol, Powell was kind of the bridge between Lim's storyline and Shaun's. Most people were in twos but she was in both - interesting 🤔. I mean I know there's only so many characters, plus she got what was needed arc wise, but still XDD

Anyway, I'm not sure I completely agreed with what she was saying, but I feel like maybe she was just talking specifically about them. Like, the two of them having a conversation. I am glad she's encouraging Lim to get out and do more though! Plus, often a support system of people who just get, even a tiny bit, what you're going through, is really helpful :)). So, I'm super happy for Lim on that front <33. And, if we end up seeing that guy again, maybe in a romantic sense for Lim eventually, good for her! Anyhoo :)

Since we're already talking about Powell, I'll go to her and Shaun next :). Their relentless fighting stressed me out a bit lol (it was just a stressful episode okay XDD), but I'm glad they eventually made good :). I would say made up, but it doesn't really fit lol - they were never good in the first place, not really xD. But, I think they'll be really good and challenging and therefore encouraging each other's ideas, and maybe move from tolerating each other to at least kinda liking each other lol. I'm sure they'll continue to butt heads, but I think this is a big step forward to them :)).

Also I'm so happy they managed to find some things they both have in common 😭 xDD :). Good for them xdd <3.

Lea seeing how Shaun was struggling, and helping him through a bit was really sweet :). I just- they love each other okay??? They know how to tell when the other is having an issue and just aGH love them ❤️❤️❤️🥰 <333. Lol, anyway, Lea was S L A Y I N G in this episode. Our queen, we love <3. I'm really glad she was able to get the computers working again, with her own resources too! And, that Andrews was for the most part understanding :). Like, he was dealing with his own stuff and that happens, but mostly they managed to work together pretty well :). Like, he thought of the MRIs, yk? Anyway, it was stressful, but I appreciated the storyline lol. Computers are often overlooked when it comes to heat, like in tv shows and stuff - I mean heck, I didn't even think about them and I'm here appreciating it lol -, but it's super important so that was nice to see :)). So yeah! Go off guys, love you <333.

Speaking of next episode, I'm so excited for them to start a family :DD (besides themselves, even though obviously they're a family now). I do think they'll have some trauma from everything else in the past to get through with this, but I think they'll be able to do it and hopefully they can have a kid :)). If they do decide that's what they truly want, of course!

Anyway, Morgan! AHHHHH MORGAN WANTS A KID!!!! I'm so happy for her 😭😭😭😭. Obviously it is not at ALL a requirement in life, but I want her to be happy :). I hope she is doing what's truly right her though, just like with Shaun and Lea <3. Plus, I liked how she said it wasn't the boyfriend she was worried about. Obviously I hope she does get back together with Park, but I'm glad that distinction was made. This isn't about that, this about what she wants herself regarding children, and I absolutely love that for her <33.

Also Asher being her bestie :D?? Trying to get her to open up, being there for her, especially with what she said/her decision (even if she didn't make it in that moment or maybe even this episode at all) at the end? It was just- amazing <333. The duo I never knew I needed but absolutely do (need) now xDD <33. I love them :)).

And like I said their storyline this episode was HILARIOUS LOL. Poor Jerome was doing everything xDD. Speaking of Jerome I love him <33. In case you didn't know /lh lol xDD. Seriously though man was finding the guy, finding who was looking for the guy they kidnapped, dealing with them - everything XD. Plus the rest of his job lol. An icon, is my point xD <33.

Anyway Jordan and Perez's storyline/patient was so sad 😭😭😭. Plus just Perez's dedication to trying to find a solution, how much he cared. . . <33. I don't think it had anything specific to do with the patient, more just the fact that he's new. Like, we know him and Powell are new, but I think it's important we remember they're also new doctors. Though Shaun was wrong to dismiss Powell's ideas, he was right in the fact that they are still new. It probably just made it especially rough, and Jordan helping their patient honestly was helping him too, even if she didn't know it or that's not why she did it <33. Anyway yeah, I just thought their storyline was really sweet 😭😭❤️. I'm glad they got to take her to Paris :')). She deserved to be able to go :'DD <333.

Park and Glassman's storyline! It was saddd 😭😭. I'm glad everything worked out in the end though :'). But honestly seeing them debate tough decisions like that is just rough. Like yeah, those are hard decisions to make, and I totally saw Park's point of view. It hits even more to home this week as I'm finishing writing this up. And I felt so bad for him :(( with the story. It makes sense why his stance on it was what it was. Anyway, it was a bit of a rough one (not in an unpolished way lol), but I liked it :')).

Overall, I loved this episode! I thought the different plot uses of the what than what you'd normally expect of a tv show - like the nursing home losing power and the computers - was really interesting, and the character plots this episode were definitely great. It really felt like an extra character focused one. Not that they don't all put focus on the characters, but I feel like the next episode will put a bit more emphasis on the case. I enjoy both versions though! I thought it was a really great episode :)). Plus, the humor cut through the heavier stuff nicely lol :D. All around I just really really liked it <33 🥰.

So yeah! I really enjoyed this episode, I thought it was great in all the storylines. Next week's episode looks really interesting! This has been my review of. . .

The Good Doctor, Season 6, Episode 6: Hot and Bothered

I loved this episode! I'm really excited for the next one, too, it looks super good. I'll be back next week with my review of. . .

The Good Doctor, Season 6, Episode 7: Boys Don't Cry

See you then!

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you���ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

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[hamatoclan76]

Rise Splinter isn´t a very good parent and that´s okay.

Look, before someone starts throwing tomatoes i want to clarify something: I like Splinter from Rottmnt and i really like Rise of the Tmnt. People who have followed me for a while know i enjoy the series and i´m sad about it how was cancelled. I also want to say that i don´t think other Splinters are 100% perfect and they have their own issues too.

What i don´t like is how the Rise of the tmnt fandom often overlooks Rise Splinter´s character flaws and pretends that he is a perfect father figure because this is not something supported by both by the narrative and his character growth.

So, what i´m going to do in this post is to examine his character flaws, his role as parent and character arc in the series. The point of this is to bring up this flaws to light, this is not a ¨character critical¨ or whatever you want to call it. It´s supposed to be character analysis, okay?

Let´s start with the short Turtle Tots short:

Link to the short:

 https://www.facebook.com/teenagemutantninjaturtles/videos/626074331524980/

This short is when the turtle brothers are still very young. We see that Splinter is trying to train them but he keeps watching a show he likes on TV. This short shows Splinter didn´t care about training his sons enough even when they were younger. He also leaves them with very dangerous weapons they don´t know how to use.

Splinter was already quite neglectful and careless since the start. He spend too much time watching TV rather than training his sons. It would more understandable if he was too busy working with something but here he is only watching a TV series. Later in the short he admits he should have paid more attention to the turtles and isn´t a good Sensei.

I have to say i didn´t like this short too much. I didn´t find funny the jokes of how Splinter ignores his sons for the TV series and leaves every 30 seconds. However, it provides some context for the characters and their relationship.

Now let´s talk about his characterization at the start of the series. (Season 1)

Splinter at the start of the series is usually seen watching TV, whatever is his old movies or shows that he likes. He is rarely seen training the turtles or talking to them. Sometimes their interactions are the boys trying to ask him about something while he is watching his series. Splinter either answers them or ignores them.

He is usually so caught up in his own world that he doesn´t seem to be aware of who are the turtles fighting against until it starts biting them back. The boys usually don´t tell him about their adventures on the surface. One could argue that he assumes that they barely get in trouble and they are just playing.

In the episode ¨The Fast and the Furriest¨ Splinter ¨steals¨  Turtle Tank and takes it for a ride without Donatello´s permision. The turtles go through a lot of trouble to get the Turtle Tank back. By the end of the episode its Donatello, his son,is  the one who is putting a punishment on Splinter, who is supposed to be their father, for taking the Tank. 

While Donnie getting angry at Splinter is quite funny,this episode shows that Yoshi can be very inmature at times, if not childish. He doesn´t ask his son to allow him use the tank, puts them in danger and is scolded like a child at the end instead of him being the ¨responsible adult figure¨.

Parents being cocky or careless isn´t something very new. There are parents that act as inmature or worse than Yoshi and would never admit they did something wrong. So, i take this episode as one of the examples that Splinter does this kind of things. He isn´t this selfish and reckless all the time, just sometimes.

Another aspect is that Splinter struggles with remember his sons´ names. He calls them by their color bandana instead of their real names. This sometimes can be funny but on the long run it becomes quite disturing,Imo. There is difference between ¨calling your son with an affectionate nickname¨ and ¨not remembering your sons´ name¨. There is a point that this it becomes sad.

The tmnt wiki describes Rise Splinter´s personality as a ¨Extremely flawed (albeit loved) father figure¨. This means that he has tons of flaws but he cares about his family: One clear example is when he helps Raphael with fighting his fear in ¨Mrs. Cuddles¨. He protects the big turtle a few times from the giant puppet monster and they defeat the monster together.

Splinter cares about April O´Neil like she was part of the family too. In episodes like "Always Be Brownies" he is seen hanging out with her and helping her. He also encourages April to believe more in herself since she has tons of doubts in that episode. (Season 2).

Hamato Yoshi / Splinter´s backstory

Lets say that Yoshi didn´t have the best childhood. His biological father was missing and he is not mentioned in the flashbacks. Splinter´s mother, Atsuko, left Yoshi when he was still a kid so she would be able to perform her family duty as protector in the Hamato family.

This terrible loss made Yoshi grow bitter with his Hamato duties and martial arts. He didn´t want anything to do with his family legacy since it was the reason that his mother was forced to left him. He had an argument with his maternal grandfather and sensei, Sho, and decided to use the skills he learned in during his training to become a superstar.

After many shenanigans involving his crush on Big Mama, a very powerful yokai, and Baron Draxum, Hamato Yoshi mutated into a humanoid rat and adopted the turtles, who were about to be used as soldiers by Draxum, like their own sons.

Splinter´s backstory explains a lot of his behaviour in the series: It´s implied his father died/left him, his own mother also left him to perform her duties and he has a very strained relationship with his grandparent. The reason of why he has so many problems when it comes to being a good father it is because he himself lacked good family support. It makes sense that he doesn´t seem to know what he is doing or why he is messy when he is takeing care of the turtles.

Speaking of that, this explains why he isn´t very involved in his sons´ training. Maybe he just doesn´t want them to carry the same burden that he did as a child or just dislikes the idea of training them because it reminds him of bad memories about his grandfather and his mother.

He also watches his old movies since it reminds him of the time he was living his life at his fullest and was doing something he enjoyed. It implies he has his mind stuck in the past, perhaps wishing he could still be human and live like superstar.

Splinter´s Character growth

Like i mentioned, Yoshi wasn´t very interested in training his sons at the start of the series. He was negletful and spent too much time watching his movies... This aspect of his character isn´t ignored.

When the turtles asked him to train him ¨The Evil League of Mutants" he put Lou-Jitsu films for them to watch, this made their sons think he wasn´t taking them seriously and decided to go out on their own. While Splinter´s intention was to show them the basics by them learning the moves from the movies, he came off as he only cared about watching said films to their sons.

After noticing how his sons lack experience and need his help, he begans training them. Splinter gets more involved with his Hamato destiny and starts being more honest to the boys about his past as human and protector.

One episode that´s really worth of mentioning is ¨Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man¨: Splinter tricks Donatello and Mikey into going to a demolition center since he missed the old days he used to be a champion in the Battle Nexus. Donnie is very hurt when he finds out about this because he really wanted to spend more time with his father. By seeing this Yoshi realizes how his sons would like to do things together with him like hanging out. He apologizes to Donnie and tellshim that he may have lied but it is truth he wanted to spend time with him.

Along with getting more involved in his sons´s lives by teaching them and spending time with them, he lets Mikey hang out with Draxum because Mikey considers him part of the family too. (Draxum created them). He didn´t trust Draxum due to their mutual past but decides to give him a chance for Mikey´s sake.

In conclusion: In Rise of the tmnt, Splinter starts as somewhat a neglectful parent figure, sometimes acting childish and not being the best role model for their sons. Overtime he begins to understand the consequences of not training his family and gets more involved in their lives. He tries to be a responsible father despite he had tons of issues with his own family growing up. While very flawed, he has good intentions and cares deeply about his sons.

[impostoradult]

This is time that was allotted to these storylines by canon, offering an expectation of meaning and importance, offering what results in a promise—not time the fans imagined or made up, not something they feel nebulously entitled to, but time they spent on plots the canon gave to them. (Cas means something to Dean after all these years and a love confession. Bucky means something to Steve after all these years and a snap. Jaime’s project of growth and his meaningful relationship with Brienne is something worth investing in.) But instead of saying, yes, you spent all this time watching these scenes, feeling these moments, taking this in—you grew with this character, with these relationships (grew in many cases away from the set starting point)—here is your promised meaning, again and again, these properties snatch the rug away and then pretend blithely they cannot understand why “entitled fans” are so upset.

I’ve been meaning to write my version of this argument for a while now, and I suppose this article is just as good a reason as any.

My thesis, in short, is that lack of queer representation actually isn’t what is creating ~the problem~ here. What’s creating the problem is the overriding power of heteronormativity as a kind of ‘trump’ story logic that is allowed to steamroller everything else into oblivion. (And yes, there actually is a substantial difference between those two things)

Sub-thesis 1: Representation Actually Isn’t A Strong Argument for Destiel (or any particular ship/character)

Controversial, I know.  The representation argument (while an extremely valid argument as applies to popular culture in general) is actually not a very good argument when it comes to why Dean should be explicitly queer and Destiel should have been consummated. 

For one, there’s no reason -- exclusively from the standpoint that it is a moral imperative that queer people are represented in media -- why any particular character or set of characters should be that representation. The ethical cultural mandate to represent marginalized groups does not mandate that any one character or set of characters in any particular given story be that representation*. Yes, even if you as a member of that marginalized group happen to identify with that character. Even then, it isn’t OWED to you. (I think writers should take those trends of identification seriously, and think about what it means to marginalized groups, and act accordingly. But I don’t think it creates an OBLIGATION)

*I’d argue the primary caveat to this would be in stories where the character’s situation or arc is directly related to struggles experienced by that marginalized group (i.e., casting mostly white actors in stories where those characters are experiencing racial oppression)

For another, if representation of queer characters were primarily dictated by fandoms, 90% of queer characters in media would be white, conventionally attractive men. (That might be overstating it a bit, but fandoms have serious biases when it comes to shipping and what kind of characters they latch onto for queer interpretation, and that’s one of the reasons I’m grateful queer representation is not primarily linked to our tastes/preferences). 

The representation argument is a very valid argument when examining popular culture as whole, and when looking at broader trends for example, within a genre, or a whole network. But no particular TV show is obligated to make particular characters within it queer just because representation is a moral imperative as a broader cultural issue. 

Sub-Thesis 2: Heteronormativity Creates Stupid/Badly Constructed Stories

The actual problem here is how heteronormativity creates a kind of trump logic that overrides coherent storytelling. 

I’m not upset about what happened on Supernatural because I think we missed out on representation. There is actually plenty of ~better~ representation elsewhere, and there will continue to be more as time goes on. The representation issue is peripheral at best when it comes to analyzing what went ‘wrong’ with Supernatural. 

The key issue here is that stories need to make sense, not just in terms of plot (although that matters), but in terms of character growth, emotional arcs, etc. The ending of Supernatural is bad because it treated massive pieces of character growth and one of the most significant emotional arcs of the whole show as if it was ultimately inconsequential -- which is bad storytelling and doesn’t make sense. 

And YES, we are ‘owed’ stories that make sense. It’s not entitled to want a story to be coherent, because coherence is what makes a story a story, and not just a series of random meaninglessly assembled plot points/fictional anecdotes. 

The problem is, Hollywood writers keep writing themselves into situations where emotional coherence basically requires an explicitly queer dynamic (or at least a strongly subtextual one), and then just being like...but these characters aren’t queer so we can’t do that. Instead, let’s end Steve’s arc by sending him back in time to live a heterosexual life with Peggy, disregarding the HUGELY significant plot points related to Steve/Bucky which grounded multiple entire movies within the MCU (Winter Solider, Civil War). Let’s end Sherlock by inventing a random, long-lost Holmes sister never remotely hinted at or foreshadowed and make that incomprehensible plot point the finale, when the entire series has been grounded in John and Sherlock’s relationship. 

Let’s make it canonically clear Cas’s love for Dean is the one single act of pure free will in a world with a malevolent God trying to manipulate everyone’s lives for his own amusement, and that Cas’s love for Dean is the only thing keeping the primary story-universe of Supernatural intact, because every other version of Sam and Dean in every other universe kill each other as God intended. Let’s make it clear that Cas’s betrayal of heaven due to his love for Dean is literally propping up their entire universe, but then end the story by pretending like it’s not that important after all. Castiel who?

And it’s just like...THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE! It doesn’t make fucking sense. It’s bad writing. So why would you do it? (I mean, I being a bit facetious here. I know exactly why. Because the precious feelings of homophobes will be hurt, and companies don’t want to lose out on their money) 

It’s not entitled to want a story to make sense. It’s not entitled to want major plot points and character arcs and emotional dynamics to have resolutions that follow from what came before in the story. 

And I’m sorry, but you are a ridiculous person if you watched Dean grieve Castiel’s ostensible deaths in s7 and s13 (both times becoming nearly catatonic, nihilistic, more self-destructive than usual, and borderline suicidal over losing Cas) and try to argue to me that his shrug-it-off attitude towards Cas’s death/loss in the finale makes any goddamn sense at all. 

It is utterly inconsistent with everything that has happened before in Supernatural regarding Dean and Castiel’s relationship. It’s incomprehensibly incoherent and just stupid. (And that is just the absolute tip of the incoherence iceberg because to fully explain why the ending of Supernatural re: Destiel doesn’t make sense we’d have to review over 300 episode’s worth of content, and there isn’t time for that) 

I’m just so sick and so tired of being asked to pretend to be stupid because you know, man, heterosexuality. They’re not gay!!1! 

The exhaustion I feel, as a queer viewer, in fact is not borne out of lack of representation. The representation issue is very much on an upward trajectory and I’m not worried about the future of TV not being queer enough. I’m not. 

The exhaustion and frustration and anger I feel as a queer viewer is borne of having to repeatedly watch stupid endings to good stories because the story can only make sense if you make it queer (you cowards). I’m tired of being asked to develop dumb amnesia disease in order to consume endings to stories that had to blow everything up at the end to (re)enforce a heterosexuality that can only stand on a foundation of utter incoherence and contradiction to monumental things that came before it.

I am JUST SO TIRED of being asked to sacrifice my intelligence, my basic logic and critical thinking skills, and my ability to remember basic narrative beats at the alter of almighty Heterosexuality, supreme ruler of all cultural output and destroyer of good queer things. 

Heterosexuality isn’t owed my stupidity, and I’m not entitled for wanting stories to make sense. YOU are entitled for demanding my stupidity when you wrote that dumb shit and expected me to act like it wasn’t dumb simply because it was heterosexual. 

No, the heterosexuality is exactly the reason it IS dumb. 

[lockefanfic]

The Girl with the Purple Hair

A/N: No smut here, guys, sorry to disappoint you - just some fluff. I wrote this fic literally four (!) years ago - one of my first k-pop fics and my first non-smut fic. I never reposted it here for some reason, but an ask I received recently got me to re-read it and I remembered how proud I was of it when I wrote it, so here it is. Please don’t judge me :P

---

Purple.

 It’s the first word that comes to mind when you see her. And how could it not be, given the color of her hair? It’s not like purple hair is a common thing - not like there are other people in the noisy, crowded bar that have purple hair. In fact, this is probably the first time you’ve seen someone in person with purple hair. Normal people had normal colored hair, like black or brown or blonde. Her hair isn’t some lazy dye job, either, with shades and highlights and a gradient to the violet strands.

 You don’t want to be caught staring, and so you steal glances at her every now and then, and every time you look her way, the first thing you notice is the wavy strands of purple as they play about her shoulders, falling lazily down like a waterfall on an alien world, where the water happens to be purple.

 Beautiful.

 It’s the next word that comes to mind, because were anyone to look just a little past the eye-dazzling color of her hair, they’d find a beautiful face, made with delicate, small features. She is traditionally beautiful in the sense that any man or woman  would agree with you if you said “here is an attractive human being.” There is a timelessness, a universality to her beauty. She could have been born a hundred years ago and still be considered pleasing to the eye - purple hair aside, she could be a painting of a woman from a time gone by, dressed up in the fashion of a model from the magazines of today.

 There is a playfulness about her features at the moment, as she indulges in conversation with the three other girls at her table. Her three friends are nothing to sneeze at, but she makes them all pale in comparison - part of it is the ridiculous, daring color of her hair, but there is something more than that. She possesses a magnetism, an allure that makes her stand out amongst three girls that, were they anywhere else, would easily be the most attractive girls in the room.

 You’re not alone either, sitting as you are with a few of your friends at your own table on the other side of the small bar. It is Friday evening, and as is custom with your co-workers, you all headed to the bar to celebrate another week gone by. But they are currently immersed in a conversation about some work-related topic, some absent co-worker or client (you weren’t really sure anymore) that was frustrating them. Uninterested in the topic, you found your attention drifting, naturally, to the girl with the purple hair.

 You notice that she has a certain aloofness about her, a certain detached nature from the conversation her three friends are having, and for a moment you wonder if perhaps she is in the same boat as you - stuck at a bar with friends who are babbling about co-workers or video games or guys or shopping or cars or clothes or those girls in the random k-pop video playing on one of the big screen TVs, when clearly you’d rather be anywhere but there.

 The other three girls seem like average girls, typical of the type you’d see at a downtown bar on a Friday night, out to have a good time with friends whilst under the influence of perhaps one too many alcoholic beverages. They are the type that would head to a club after they are sufficiently liquored up at this bar, spend the night dancing, post a group picture on Instagram when the night is at its peak, and then make a post on Facebook about how awesome it was the day after.

 But the girl with the purple hair seems different from the other three.

 She lets her gaze wander, and for a split second you are afraid again that perhaps she would catch you staring, but thankfully her eyes drift in a direction opposite from you. She lets a small, almost imperceptible sigh escape her lips, and you wonder if perhaps she would rather be somewhere else, perhaps at home on the couch binge watching some random show on Netflix, or playing Overwatch, or indulging in some random artistic pursuit that you didn’t even know existed.

 She seems like the type that would play Overwatch. She seems like the type that paints, or makes her own earrings that she sells on Etsy, or likes to watch movies in foreign languages. Maybe she watches them with the subtitles off sometimes, just to see if she can understand what they’re talking about simply from the universality of gestures made by foreign hands and the tones of foreign voices coming from foreign mouths.

 The sudden realization that you are framing this random girl in your mind rattles you a bit, and you smile to yourself as you shake your head, as if to rid those stupid, childish thoughts. You didn’t know this girl, not even in the slightest, and it was wrong of you to impose a character, a personality, on someone you knew nothing about.

 You play idly with the small glass of whiskey in your hand, watching as the amber brown liquid swirls about. You take a sip and appreciate the warm taste of it in your mouth and down your throat, appreciating the soft burn, the soft warmth it leaves behind.

 You take a moment to try to tune back into the conversation your friends are having, but they are knee-deep in a conversation about a Super Nintendo game. You loved vintage games - there was something about the original plastic in your hands, and the classic, blocky pixels on your screen, that made it feel more authentic in the way an emulator on a modern console could never be.

 You are about to join in on the conversation, about to tell your friends about some random game you picked up online, when a movement on the other side of the bar catches your attention - the girl in the purple hair is raising a glass. One of her friends is speaking earnestly, it appears, and after finishing her little speech the brunette girl next to her gives her a hug - perhaps it was a toast? Perhaps it is the brunette’s birthday? It probably was. Either way, the girls clink their glasses together, and down their shots in one gulp.

 The girl in the purple hair scrunches her face as she forces the strong liquor down her throat. Immediately you think that perhaps it the cutest thing you’d ever witnessed, and you find that a small smile has appeared, unconsciously, on your lips.

 The four girls share that wonderful post-shot reaction with each other, complaining about how awesome that small bit of alcohol they just had was. Together three of them tease the orange-haired, thin girl who is struggling with the alcohol and having a coughing fit. They laugh and one of them grabs her phone to take a picture of the poor girl, who, to her credit, is laughing along with them, probably out of embarrassment.

 The girl with the purple hair joins in on the fun, saying something that must have been hilarious, for all three of her companions burst out in laughter - including the thin girl struggling with the shot. The girl smiles, and her eyes narrow to thin half-arcs. In that moment she is the picture of happiness and joy.

 She says something else to her group - you assume it is her declaring that the next round is on her. She stands, and the girls make way for her to leave their table.

 For the first time you get a glimpse of her from head to toe. She is wearing a short, black dress, and what appears to be a grey patterned collared shirt beneath it. The dress is plain and relatively short but not overly so, showing off her long, slender legs without being improper or overly suggestive. It’s an interesting outfit; classy enough to be worn to work, whilst casual enough for a night out with the girls.

 Here again she differs from her compatriots, who appear to be dressed in typical club girl outfits, with short tops and skirts, heels and small, glamorous purses and accessories. If ever there was a club girl starter kit, they were perfect models.

 But the girl with the purple hair, as you’ve come to see, is a little different from her friends.  

 You watch as she approaches the bar. There is an elegance in the way she walks, which is admirable considering the alcohol you presume she’s consumed thus far this evening.

 Later on, you’ll wonder where your sudden burst of confidence came from. But at that moment, when the girl with the purple hair reaches the bar and tries, unsuccessfully, to flag down the overly busy bartender, you see an opportunity.

 Hastily, you mumble something to your friends about grabbing the next round, and step away from the table. Out of the corner of your ear, you hear one of your friends wonder where you’re going, and another say that you still have an almost full pitcher at your table - but they are irrelevant now. Nothing else exists aside from the thirty feet between you and the spot at the bar next to the girl with the purple hair.

 Where did this come from, this sudden burst of confidence, this sudden need to get up and go over to this girl to talk to her? Was it the liquor, the liquid confidence coursing through your veins? No. It was the desire, nay, the need to speak to this girl, the need to see if she really was everything you’d built up in your mind. You needed to speak to her, to ask her her name, maybe find out a little about her. Even if she shot you down before you could get a sentence out, well, at least you had tried. You couldn’t bear the thought of wondering what might have been had you not done something.

 Ten feet away. You take a deep breath, and ready what you are about to say in your mind. Some comment about her hair? A stupid, corny joke, just to break the ice?

 Five feet away. Maybe some witty comment about bad bartenders?

 Two feet - and suddenly your thoughts disappear, and your mind goes blank as the girl with the purple hair turns her head and makes eye contact with you. Later you would realize that moment seemed to go on forever. You were hardly the mushy, sentimental type, but you finally understood why the movies slow that moment down, why the soft music plays in the background during those scenes. You wonder if this is what it feels like when someone who will be important in your life looks at you for the first time.

 You are relieved, beyond words, to see a smile appear on her lips.

 You smile back, although you wonder if perhaps the nervousness coursing throughout every fibre of your being is having an effect on your smile, and if you are actually grimacing oddly at her instead of smiling. But your mouth and lips miraculously follow the orders sent to them by your dazzled mind, because her smile widens a little bit in the way that smiles do when they are returned.

 It is just a second, maybe two, of the many billions of seconds in your life, but it felt like an eternity.

 You reach the bar, your legs - your wonderful, reliable, stable legs - by some miracle not failing you and delivering you safely to the bar without collapsing due to sheer nervousness. You remember who you are, what you came here to do, and you try to act as casual as your nerves could allow you to. You make a show of trying to flag down the bartender, but he is busy on the other end of the bar catering to some especially loud patrons.

 Your mind is racing, trying and failing to remember what it was you were going to say to the girl with the purple hair, your nerves suddenly afire at the mere proximity of the young woman you’d been stealing glances at all night. You were far from inexperienced with the opposite sex, far from being some timid fool when it came to approaching them. But this one was different. This one was special.

 Maybe you should just say hi. Start simple, y’know? But dammit, that never works. You needed something witty, something memorable, something that would make her laugh and giggle and think ‘clearly this man’s shirt is made of boyfriend material and I should throw myself into his arms posthaste.’ You don’t get that with hi!. No one gets that with hi. Girls want someone cocky and confident and sure of himself. No one ever just says hi! You know who approaches girls and says hi? Single guys, that’s who! Don’t just say hi!

 Dammit! What were you going to say? Your mind races, tries to think back to other times you’d approached girls, tries to remember what you said to them when you were successful. Gah! Your mind fails you, returns only a simple blank slate, as though your mind had put on its hat and jacket, hung up a sign that said “you’re on your own, kid,” and then started to walk home.

You tap your fingers nervously on the bar surface, trying, and perhaps failing, to appear as casual as possible as you stare, blankly, in the general direction of the too-busy bartender as he struggles to pour the correct kinds of alcohol in the correct kinds of glasses in the correct proportions.

 Clearly you needed to make some witty comment to break the ice. A small joke, perhaps? A corny one, or a genuinely funny one? What was a good joke… dammit! Damn you, mind, and your vacation time! Perhaps mention something… about… sports! Yes, it was a bar, and there were sports playing on the TVs. Maybe she was a hockey fan? Or soccer? What if she liked one, but not the other? Which sport had the highest proportion of purple haired fans? What if she thought sports were stupid, a male-dominated dick measuring contest that wasn’t worth her time or attention, and she thought less of you for liking them? Dammit!

 Maybe you should comment on her hair? Maybe something along the lines of… perhaps… using her hair to get the bartender’s attention? Then segue into how it got your attention. That’s it. Hahahaha, you laugh nervously in your mind’s eye. Then she would say how she was hoping you’d come over to talk to her, and you’d say she was awesome and you’d go on a date the next day and get married a month after that and later you’d have kids and live happily ever-

 There is a soft tap on your forearm. You turn, nervously, to the girl with the purple hair, and the sight of her face, her eyes locked on yours, that bright smile once again on her lips, causes your heart to skip a beat like it was a crack on the sidewalk.

 The next day, when you’d recovered from the whirlwind of the night’s events, you’d realize that her first words to you, the first sounds you’d hear from her voice, would sound like music. And it was crazy, considering it was just a single syllable, a single word, but someone could have told you that the entirety of Beethoven’s works were held within that syllable, and you’d have believed it.

 The girl with the purple hair’s mouth opens, her lips part, a she leans towards you with a soft smile and says:

 “...Hi.”

[ilikekidsshows]

One thing that pisses me off not just about the miraculous fandom but modern fandoms is fans inability to consume long overarching stories.

Like so many people are complaining about how long the reveal is taking or why haven't certain characters outgrown this trait yet or why is this character arc botched or abandoned. Like guys we just got the confirmation this show will be 7 seasons long PLUS like 3 tv specials. We're only roughly halfway through the series.

Once the reveal happens half the tension in the show is gone! I'm not saying leave the reveal till season 7 and make us wait 9 years this isn't HIMYM but miraculous is not a fast paced story. It's a long haul story. I just wish more fans would be patient. Miraculous is in the extremely fortunate and rare position that it will have a conclusive end and not be suddenly cancelled. That was and still is a huge problem for shows and cartoons with dedicated fans but networks pull the plug for stupid ass reasons.

So miraculous fans please chill the fuck out on things not resolving right away. We still have 78+ episodes plus the tv specials. If we get the end to certain things now it'll be so boring.

I think the concept of Instant Gratification describes the issue with many modern fandoms today. I hate to sound like I'm anti-technology, but the constant stream of quick and short bursts of entertainment allowed by the information age has made people more impatient. It's not about waiting for the climax to get a deeper sense of satisfaction, it's about getting that instant gratification right this instant. It's why one-shot fanfics are all over the place, when multi-chapter stories used to be just as common and popular, if not even more so, and it’s also why people are less willing to read a fic that’s still a work in progress. It's why people refuse to watch Youtube video essays even as they leave comments on the topic based on the title and thumbnail alone because, while they couldn't be assed to watch a 20-minute video (let alone an hour long one), they sure can spend that time calling the Youtuber names and making arguments the video actually already refutes. It's why a lot of online arguments happen only because one party read nothing but the first and maybe the last paragraph of someone's post and skipped all the explanation for their point of view (if I've ignored an counter argument for one of my posts, it was either because I missed it or because said counter argument did this. I have attention deficit issues so I do genuinely forget responses sometimes, but I'm also not writing a second essay for someone who's proven to me they won't read it).

Of course, it's only by constantly consuming only fast-paced content that you can become this impatient. People have different ideas about stories based on what stories they have encountered in the past.

Another thing that influences the Miraculous fandom in particular is that, while I love to show off exactly how much Miraculous has done to build up the overarching plotlines, Miraculous isn't really a show that's about a single story. It's easy to understand why people think it is one though: there's one main villain, we keep discovering more about the mythology, one of the main plot threads is the romantic relationship between the leads and singular episodes and plot elements tend to get payoff later. What is the purpose of a show if not to progress the story? Because the heroes aren't getting closer to defeating Gabriel or getting together, people think that the story isn't accomplishing anything.

I'll do a comparison to illustrate why these things aren't as clear-cut signs of a continuous storyline as people think. In the Spider-Man comics, you can pick any issue up and the chances are that the villain will be a part of Spider-Man's already established Rogues Gallery, who's back for more after who knows how many defeats, and those past defeats might even get referenced in callbacks to previous issues. It's also very possible that Peter and Mary Jane's relationship is the central focus with them not being together yet, having relationship problems or even having broken up (in really old issues the girl might be Gwen Stacy and short-term options have also always been available for romantic entanglements). Does this mean Spider-Man is a continuous story where the only point is that all the villains get put away for good and Peter and MJ live happily ever after? No, it doesn't. Spider-Man is designed to go on indefinitely, so there's no clear ending point. So, what is the point of Spider-Man then, if there is no Ending?

It used to be the single issue, because comic books used to have every issue be a stand-alone story about the hero and their supportive cast. These days it's more every three-to-six issues, because superhero comics are written to have short story arcs that can then be collected into trade paperbacks. A superhero series is not a single story; it's a series that functions as a story engine, meaning the series can generate several shorter stories where the hero helps fix a problem or solve a mystery.

In the superhero genre a villain will never get killed off or removed from stories permanently as long as the writers think they can still come up with stories to tell about them. The hero's romantic life will never be completely smooth sailing unless the writer is using other things to ramp up the stakes. Everything always allows for there to be another adventure.

I think the huge success of Avatar: the Last Airbender made people think that a series that is a single story is always superior to a series with multiple shorter plots. When I was liveblogging Sailor Moon, a viewer offered to give me a list of all the non-filler episodes because they genuinely thought I'd feel like I was wasting time on the show otherwise. This attitude is simply not based on fact. It's not fair to compare Miraculous Ladybug to Avatar, because they're both setting up to do completely different things. Miraculous Ladybug is trying to become a brand, like Batman or Spider-Man. It is part of the "Zag Heroes" lineup, a series of French-created superhero franchises to compete in the America-centric superhero market. This challenge is good for the genre, because Marvel and DC have started resembling each other more and more as these companies stew in their old ideas and copy everything that worked for the other one. The superhero genre needs new blood.

Also, Avatar: the Last Airbender first became popular by doing episodic plots for almost the entirety of the first season because it's actually not a wise choice to expect the audience to be willing to commit to a story that'll only give payoff later when working with an untested IP. Very often shows with longer story arcs start with the episodic format to hook people first, and sometimes the more linear plot is introduced specifically because the audience for the show is now expected to be both dedicated enough and older and capable of keeping up. Because, here's the thing: you can't expect little kids to remember every episode or even every character you've introduced in your show. I'm not sure if people are ready to hear that but I'm throwing it out there anyway. Kids are not dumb, they can understand more complex storylines, but many kids are still training their memory, so they might not remember the details of complex storylines that go on for too long.

This is why the news that Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season was going to have a recommended viewing order originally had me concerned. Miraculous is being branded for kids. The plot requiring too much skill in memorizing story details will make it less accessible to kids and might put those two additional seasons at risk. However, it seems that the "constantly changing status quo" concept of Truth, Lies and Gang of Secrets was a fluke and the evolution of the show is more subtle, so they might not be cutting the amount of episodes for those final seasons because the show is getting too complicated for kids to follow all the important details.

Regardless, Miraculous Ladybug being an adventure cartoon TV show instead of a comic book or a more cheaper-to-produce TV drama does mean that Miraculous Ladybug isn’t expected to go on for decades like a superhero comic or a soap opera. Because of this, it can have evolution and changes and even a planned ending. The show is expected to end at some point, even by the people making money off of it, mostly because making a cartoon like this indefinitely costs a lot of money, and kids’ adventure shows tend to see a decrease in returns if they go on for too long.