#we read journey to the west and they wanted us to compare how it would have been ig it was christian instead

[swupwise]

Everytime I'm forced to write something that requires research from the bible I feel like I release some of the seal I've placed on the Church Kid in me. Its slowly breaking free.

[sherbertilluminated]

There are some issues and discourses that Stan Rogers returns to, or at least that's from multiple points of view. We have The Field Behind the Plow and Lies (the agricultural plight from the respective POVs of a husband and wife), The Idiot and Free in the Harbor (young men going west and the towns they leave behind) The Mary Ellen Carter and The Jeannie C (the woman boat I love is gone! What do I do?), and Bluenose and Man with Blue Dolphin (sister ships!). But the most interesting juxtaposition of songs in Stan Rogers' discography, I think, is Northwest Passage and its lesser-known counterpart Take it from Day to Day.

Northwest Passage is one of Stan's most famous songs, and deservedly so: with its rock-quaking harmonies, references to British-Canadian colonial history and meditation on the sublime purpose of Rogers' own career as a traveling musician, the work produces a sense of longing that would be epic if it weren't so futile. While Rogers is ambivalent-at-most about the colonialism inherent in his historical perspective (read: The House of Orange), his choice to focus on the psychological journeys of "the first men through this way" makes projects like the Franklin Expedition sound like exemplary iterations of a universal human journey—these explorers are Just Like You, and their longing for the Northwest Passage is the same, and so is their suffering, so the project itself doesn't sound like an act of colonial violence in Rogers' song. Even the choice to perform Northwest Passage a capella underscores (hehe) the sense of profound isolation that Rogers describes.

But Northwest Passage is a song about captains: men who recognized "the call" to leave their homes for the not-uninhabited Artic expanse and whose journeys make it into the history books. But Take it From Day to Day approaches the Northwest Passage from the opposite direction. Literally.

The song is from the perspective of a common sailor on the St. Roch, the first ship to travel the Northwest Passage west-to-east. And instead of of being overwhelmed by the natural beauty of the Artic or the symbolic resonance of the voyage, he's contemplates more prosaic themes: namely, how much he misses his lover.

It's a little silly to think, as Rogers belts out the chorus—"I'm as far North now as I want to come/but Larson's got us under his thumb/and I signed up for the whole damn run/I can't get off halfway!"—how disappointing this perspective on Artic voyages proves compared to the unfulfilled longing of Northwest Passage. Instead, the unfulfilled longing of the anonymous narrator makes Take if From Day to Day into one of Roger's most sexual songs. I beg you to listen to it, if only to count the sensual metaphors and double-entendres.

But whether you have heard Northwest Passage and love it, or you're interested in a more down-to-earth perspective on Ice, I think it's a song you might enjoy.

[tumblydovereviews]

What Failing NaNoWriMo Taught Me

This is a change in subject from the usual media posts, but I wanted to try and broad out the scope of my writing a bit.

If you are even remotely familiar with the online writing community, you will probably know what NaNoWriMo is. Every November, writers from all around the world scramble to start an all-new story and to finish that very story by the last day of the month. And, did I mention that this novel needs to be 50,000 words at the least?

Being the bored person I am, I decided to take a risk and try the challenge out. And thus, half my October was spent forming a new world with new characters and a unique plot. On November 1st, I gathered up my supplies, booted up my laptop and started the grand journey into the wild west that is NaNo season.

Obviously, if you read the title of this article, you would know how that went.

I wrote only approximately 29,000 words for my novel. That's it. Out of the 50,000 words I was planning on writing, I barely made it half-way through.

But yet, despite my technical failure, I don't think competing in NaNoWriMo was a complete waste. I learned quite a few lessons from the journey, both writing and non-writing related, and I'm here to share them with you.

Hydrate, hydrate, HYDRATE: Like many others, I have trouble keeping a consistent amount of water in my daily diet. Somedays, I'll hardly drink any at all and on others, chugging down is all that I'll do. A few years ago, my lack of hydration actually landed me in the ER on an IV. Most of the time, we are taught only to drink water to keep our bodies going. But, I learned that when I was sufficiently hydrated while writing, I could go on for much longer periods of time compared to when I was thirsty. As it turns out, drinking water and fluids can also have a positive impact on our brain function!

Create goals based off your personal style: I'm not too bad of a chronic procrastinator. Like all of us have, occasionally I'll put projects aside towards the last minute, but for the most part, I'm a pretty good worker. My problem is working consistently- I concentrate much better in controlled bursts of time than in a long session, but at the same time, I don't like leaving work unfinished. If I start a chapter, I'm going to finish it no matter what, for better or for worse. For NaNoWriMo, I decided to aim on finishing at least one chapter of my story per day. That way, I would have a manageable amount of work while still staying productive in the process.

At the same time, life is WAY more important than writing: Throughout November, Thanksgiving, school, and the start of the holidays in general impeded my ability to write as much as I could have. And that's okay! Writing is just one part of my life, not my entire well-being. I try to divide the different aspects of my life into certain 'parts,' from my academic part to my author part for tumblydovereviews. This helps me to throw away any worries I mayhave about another 'part,' and instead focus my whole self onto one part at a time.

Grow a closer bond with your characters: I loved my characters. I thought about them throughout the day and as I wrote. I came up with their favorite activities, movies, and foods, and imagined scenarios for them in my head. In a way, this made writing them easier as I knew more about how they would react and why.

And, if no matter what you try, you still fail NaNoWriMo...: That's okay! Remember, the entire point of this challenge is to have fun while also completing a story in the process. No matter what happens, I'm proud of you for trying. You're doing great!

Will I decide to complete NaNoWriMo again next year? It remains to be seen. But one thing remains clear: even through my failure, I still love to write. I still love to read. I still want to create stories and worlds and essays. And, nothing will stop me from doing that.

[the-himawari]

A3! Troupe Event Translation - Journey to the Colours (9/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Kumon: … (I caused so much worry for not only everyone in Summer troupe, but also nii-chan and Director…) (I’ll give it my absolute all in rehearsals from tomorrow on to make up for it!)

*bzz, bzz*

Kumon: Yamaguchi? Ah! I forgot to reply to him! Hello!?

Yamaguchi: “Hello? You haven’t replied since earlier. Did something happen?”

Kumon: Sorry! I was kinda all over the place… But don’t worry, I watched the last match of your high school life!

Yamaguchi: “I know because I saw you. I didn’t get a reaction back though.”

Kumon: I said I was sorry!

Yamaguchi: “So, how was it?”

Kumon: Eh? Erm, well… you were really cool out there! It was like the culmination of all the practice you put in for three years. There’s no way you wouldn’t look cool having the time of your life like that after everything you’ve done!

Yamaguchi: “Geez, what’re you talking about?”

Kumon: Also, I remembered the time I was part of the baseball team and it felt so nostalgic. I felt kinda sad and jealous seeing all of you playing in the game together. That fist bump you did at the end—you also did that in the past when we lost a game a long time ago, right?

Yamaguchi: “Ahh… right, I did do that, huh? It just came back to me.”

Kumon: Just now!? Geez, dude~. I thought you were encouraging me.

Yamaguchi: “…Well, to be honest, I wanted to play as a battery together with you until the very end, too.” “But it’s not like I won’t be able to play baseball with you anymore. Even now, we play catch and casual games together, don’t we?”

Kumon: —Yeah, that’s true! Let’s keep playing baseball together from here on out, ‘kay, Yamaguchi!

Yamaguchi: “You know it.”

Kazunari: …Kumopi looks happy.

Tenma: It looks like his fog has been lifted.

Muku: Yeah. I’m so glad.

Yuki: We’d be in trouble if our lead was a wishy-washy guy.

Misumi: I can’t wait for our rehearsals starting tomorrow~.

-pause-

Tenma: “Tch, another annoying guy is here.”

Muku: “Hmph. It doesn’t matter how many people come, they’re not match for us!”

Kumon: “I’ve been searching high and low for you! You can’t deceive people!”

Juza: Just now, you should keep your center of gravity a lil lower—.

Kumon: …Like this? Woah, it’s a lot easier to do now! Thanks, nii-chan!

Juza: It’s ‘cause you practiced. You’re movin’ better than before in general.

Kumon: Ehehe! Nii-chan complimented me~!

Muku: Good for you, Kyu-chan!

Banri: Kumon’s got good reflexes to begin with, so he’s quick to get the hang of it.

Izumi: That’s true. It’s great it looks like he’s able to focus now and get back on track.

-pause-

Kumon: Hmm…

Kazunari: What’s up, Kumopi?

Kumon: I’m trying to come up with a title for the show~. Director told me the title is gonna be finalized soon, so I should let her know if I have any good ideas.

Kazunari: Gotcha~. I gotta fix the flyer design soon too. So, you got any ideas?

Kumon: I’ve wracked my brain, but…

Kazunari: The Tale of The Wicked Heavenly Dragon Son Goku’s Adventure… Extreme West Quest… those titles would totes suit you, don’tcha think~!

Kumon: Well, I tried thinking of words that are phonetically similar, but nothing’s clicked yet~.

Kazunari: Phonetically similar, huh~… AH! In that case, how does this sound?

-pause-

Kumon: This happens every time, but we got the show in the blink of an eye, huh?

Tenma: When rehearsals got into full swing, it felt like we were just blasting through it.

Muku: Opening day is nerve wracking no matter how many times I experience it. Are you holding up, Kyu-chan?

Kumon: I feel nervous, but I’m also super psyched!

Kazunari: Kumopi’s so dependable~!

Yuki: You were ridiculously pale during your first leading show.

Misumi: Now he looks raring to go~!

Muku: You’ve grown a tremendous amount compared to back then.

Kumon: Ehehe.

Izumi: Everyone will be fine. Just perform as you did during rehearsals. Be careful not to injure yourselves, alright?

Kumon: Got it!

Tenma: It’s the overly eager guys like that who are the most at risk.

Yuki: Takes one to know one.

Tenma: No one asked!

Kumon: Ahaha!

Izumi: (A lively color that’s bright enough to blow away all their nerves—this is what you call Summer troupe…)

*flashback starts*

Izumi: …”Journey to the Colours”?*

Kumon: Yeah! Kazu-san came up with it!

Kazunari: I got it from Kumopi’s idea to use a phonetic equivalent~. Our costumes and the visuals for the world setting in our upcoming show are more colourful and vibrant than usual, aren’t they? I hope our play will also overflow with brilliance, just like Sanzo’s journey with his friends~!

Tsuzuru: …Great idea. Being highly saturated with colours suits Summer troupe.

Izumi: Yeah. Let’s go with that!

*flashback ends*

Izumi: (I’m glad we came up with a title that fits Summer troupe perfectly.) (May everyone in the Summer Troupe shine even more vividly on the stage on their opening day—.)

Manager: It’s almost showtime~!

Kumon: Group huddle, guys!

Kazunari: Okay~.

Kumon: Everyone, sorry for causing you so much worry this time! Since it was my second time playing the lead role, I thought that I had to work hard and show everyone my best side. But I know I ended up causing unnecessary trouble. I felt lost and depressed when I remembered my baseball team days… But I realized once again that the reason why I’m able to stand on stage with such confidence is because I have all of you. Because I'm with you guys, I feel like I can do anything. We’re definitely going to make this how a success! LET’S GO! TO TENJIKU!

Kazunari: YEAH!

Muku: Yeah!

Misumi: LET’S GO!

Yuki: He’s hyping us up like a baseball team, huh?

Tenma: It feels like we’re going to Nationals again.

-pause-

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “Going on a journey with someone you don’t get along with is hell…”

Goku [Kumon]: “Ehh? You think so? Travelling is fun no matter who you’re with!” “Ah, it says they’re holding a festival right now. I wanna go!”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “Listen, Goku. This is an ascetic journey to Tenjiku in order to study sutras. It is not a sightseeing trip.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Since I’ve come all the way here, I’d like to stop by a town a little further south.” “I heard there’s a popular sweets shop. They have fluffy pao cakes.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “No festivals and no sweets shops. There will be too many women. It’s dangerous. I’d much rather pass through the mountain range over there where we’re bound not to meet anyone.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “If a regular human like our master climbed such a steep mountain, he would freeze to death.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “…That’s enough. I will head to the temple lodging where we are staying today by myself.”

Goku [Kumon]: “That’s too dangerous! Master, if you travel alone, you’ll get gobbled up by demons in no time.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “*Sigh*…”

Goku [Kumon]: “Since everyone wants to go somewhere different, why don’t we take turns and visit all of them in order?”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “What a pain.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “I’m absolutely against going to a festival or sweets shop.”

Goku [Kumon]: “Now, now. You might have fun if you go! Let’s go, let’s go!”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “My sweets shop will be first on the list then. I heard there’s a huge line, so we have to go early tomorrow morning.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “*Sigh*… good grief. I am not the least bit interested. But I suppose I must…”

-pause-

*jumps down*

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Older brother, is that human…?”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “There’s no mistaking it. He’s the spitting image of Genjo Sanzo’s portrait.”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “I wonder if Sanzo will be tasty…”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “They say eating him will prolong your lifespan, but I wonder about the taste. Well, we’ll know once we devour him.”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “I can’t wait!”

*dream starts*

Gojo in his previous life [Misumi]: “Enough already. This is different than what you’ve been saying up until now.”

Hakkai in his previous life [Yuki]: “I can’t go along with your selfish whims anymore, Goku.”

Goku in his previous life [Kumon]: “Eh~? But it’s more fun this way.”

Gojo in his previous life [Misumi]: “I heard you were going to create a world with only women, so I went along with your plan.”

Hakkai in his previous life [Yuki]: “And I jumped on board because you said that all the food in the world would become extremely spicy gourmet food I love if I went along with you.” “I’m done here~!”

Gojo in his previous life [Misumi]: “I’m out too.”

*walks away*

Goku in his previous life [Kumon]: “What the hell… I can’t help it, you know? I changed my mind.”

Heaven’s voice: “Goku… you have manipulated those around you at your own fickle whims and you have thrown the world in to chaos.” “You cannot return to heaven until you repent.”

Goku [Kumon]: “HUH!? Why!? No way! I just did what I thought was fun! I’m not doing anything wrong!”

*dreams ends*

Goku [Kumon]: “*Yaaawn*…”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “You look sleepy.”

Goku [Kumon]: “I had a weird dream.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “It’s just before dawn. Anyone would be sleepy. You said there’d be a wait, but this is one hell of a line. Where is the store?”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “There’s still 5 hours before the store opens, but look at this queue…”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “This isn't even the worst. When it’s bad, there are people who pull two all-nighters.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Did you say two? You mean there are people who will stand in line here for two days straight?”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “How dreadful… Will we have to endure this for two whole days…?”

Goku [Kumon]: “I’m tired.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “Goku. You’re the one who originally said you would go everywhere the others wanted to go, remember?”

Gojo [Misumi]: “You said we might have fun if we went.”

Goku [Kumon]: “Well this isn’t fun! It’s boring. I wanna go somewhere else!”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “How selfish…”

Girl A: “Excuse me. Can we take a picture together?”

Girl B: “Are you a celebrity, mister? You look so cool!”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Err… n-no, I’m…”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “And as usual, he’s unnecessarily popular with the ladies~.”

Goku [Kumon]: “Hey, hey. Can I head to the next place already?”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “You threw in the towel way too fast. You’ve only been in line for a few minutes.”

Goku [Kumon]: “I’m at my limit! See ya~.”

*runs off*

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “Wait, Goku. Simply acting on your own like that—.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Master, anything you say to Goku will go in one ear and out the other.”

Girl C: “Please take a selfie with me!”

Girl D: “What’s this line for? Is it to take selfies with that guy? I’ll get in line too!”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Would you look at that~. A new line has formed in front of Gojo.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “S-sorry… I’ll just… head back to the temple first…”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “And now Gojo…”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “You guys sure lack grit~. If you just wait a little longer, you’ll be able to eat an exquisite pao cake full of cream.” “The cream in the pao cakes are threefold: they contain honey, condensed milk, and chocolate.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “That’s… going to be too sweet for me, don’t you think? I’ll just get a drink.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Once you enter the store, there’s a sign that says you have to order one pao cake per person.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “…My apologies, but I am going to head back to the temple first.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Huh~! Even you, Master~?”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “If our palates don’t match, then we won’t be able to share a meal together…”

-pause-

*door opens*

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “Phew… yes, the temple really is the most relaxing place of all.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “You are right about that… there’s not a single woman here…”

Goku [Kumon]: “So, what should we do? Baseball? Soccer? BBQ?”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “What are you thinking in a place like this? This is a spot where one calmly faces their own selves.”

Goku [Kumon]: “Aww, that’s boring.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “You should read one of the scriptures too.”

Goku [Kumon]: “You’re just saying that because you like scriptures.” “There’s no point just reading books like that. We gotta get out and see the great wide world!” “Come on, let’s all go play together!”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “You’re going to receive bad karma if you speak about scriptures like that—.”

Heaven’s voice: “You know too little of the outside world. While it is impressive that you're so diligent about studying, you are simply clinging to your books.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “—Please leave me be and go on your own. I will stay here.”

Goku [Kumon]: “Eh~! What about you then, Gojo?”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Of course I am going to say with Master. As a disciple, that’s only natural.”

Goku [Kumon]: “I know it’s because you won't get caught up by women here! Ugh, whatever. I’m going alone then. You guys are lame!”

*runs off*

Gojo [Misumi]: “How dare he talks to Master that way? Good grief.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “What in the world was that voice earlier…”

Gojo [Misumi]: “What is the matter?”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “ …Oh, no. It’s nothing.”

-pause-

Goku [Kumon]: “I really don’t see eye to eye with those guys, huh~? Festivals are definitely more fun.”

*shoots*

Goku [Kumon]: “Ah, you ladies are amazing at shooting the targets. Here, have some juice.”

Lady A: “Thanks!”

Lady B: “Do you wanna try shooting too?”

Goku [Kumon]: “Don’t mind if I do! Target practice is a staple at festivals, after all~.”

*shoots*

Lady A: “Hey, you’re a pro at this!”

Goku [Kumon]: “Is there anything you want? Which one should I aim for?”

Lady A: “If you’re asking, then that plushie over there!”

Goku [Kumon]: “A plushie, huh?”

*shoots*

Lady B: “Amazing! You hit it right on the mark!”

Goku [Kumon]: “Here you go.”

Lady A: “Thanks! Shall I treat you to something as thanks?”

Goku [Kumon]: “If you insist, let’s go to karaoke.”

Lady B: “Are you by yourself? Did you not come here with friends?”

Goku [Kumon]: “No worries, no worries! I don’t get along with them at all~. Let’s hang out ‘til morning~.”

-pause-

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Welcome. Table for one? Do you have any companions—.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “For one.”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “…Please take a seat over here.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “I finally made it into the store~. I’ll have the special, fluffy, three-layered pao cake, please!”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Coming right up.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Gojo and the others should’ve came too. Too bad, so sad~.”

-pause-

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Apologies for the wait. Here’s a special, fluffy, three-layered pao cake. Please enjoy it while it’s hot.” (I didn’t expect Sanzo to be absent, but the less obstacles the better. Now quickly, with one bite of the poisoned pao cake…)

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Don’t mind if I do—.”

Ginkaku [Muku]: (Nice. With that, it’ll be one down for the count.)

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Ah! Hold on, I forgot something important. I have to take a pic and post it to inste.”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “—“

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Mmm, which angle… ah, this might come out well. I think this angle is more aesthetic…”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Dear customer, please dig in alread— Ah, no. Shall we take the picture together?”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “I’m good. Hmm. The position of the fork and knife are a bit off…

Ginkaku [Muku]: (Oh my god. Hurry up and eat it…)

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Wait a minute?”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “—” (Did he figure out who I am?)

Hakkai [Yuki]: “The pao cake on the table next to me is adorable! It looks tasty~. Which menu item is that?”

Customer beside him: “This one? It’s the deluxe, fluffy-wuffy, four-layered pao cake.” “I’ve always wanted to try it, so I rode on horseback for four days straight…”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “It was worth coming, wasn’t it~!”

Customer beside him: “Totally! Ah, would you like to try a bite?”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Are you sure!? Alright, I’ll share some of mine too.”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Um—”

Customer beside him: “Thanks so much! I also wanted to try the special one, but I didn’t think I could finish everything myself.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “The best part of eating desserts is when everyone shares a bit of their own, after all~.”

Customer beside him: “I feel you~. Alright, let’s eat!”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Ah, hold on—"

Customer beside him: “Urk—"

*collapses*

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Eh!? Are you okay!?”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Tch.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Wait, are you… a demon!?”

*transforms*

Ginkaku [Muku]: “I guess the jig is up. It's a bit of a hassle, but I suppose I’ll silence him with brute force.”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “How dare you interrupt our happy dessert time… I'll teach you that grudges over food are terrifying.”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Hmph. Shut it, piggy. I’ll turn you into char siu in no time!”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “HA!? Don’t get carried away just because you look a little cute.”

*swords clash*

Ginkaku [Muku]: “—Geh. This char siu is surprisingly good…”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “DON’T CALL ME CHAR SIU!”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “If that’s the case… AH! IT’S THE MIRACLE, FWUFFY, SEVEN-LAYER PAO CAKE ON THE SECRET MENU!”

Hakkai [Yuki]: “Huh, what’d you say? Where?”

Ginkaku [Muku]: “Take this!’

*slashes*

Hakkai [Yuki]: “—Urgh.”

*falls*

-pause-

Gojo [Misumi]: “Why don’t you take a rest, Master?”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “There’s no need to concern yourself with me.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Or would you like to go to the festival that Goku was talking about? Although, I have chronic hay fever so I’d have to stay back—”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “Festival…”

Heaven’s voice: “You should travel to Tenjiku in the west. Go see more of the outside world.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “No, I’m okay as well.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “I see! If you say so! Very well then.”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Hello~? Somebody?”

Gojo [Misumi]: “—. It sounds like there’s a woman’s voice outside.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “…”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Master? Master? Right, when Master starts reading scriptures, he doesn’t register the sounds around him…”

-pause-

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “You there~. Save me~.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Um, me? …Err, you see… Ah. Oh, no, the pain! I SudDenlY GoT an UpSeT StoMaCH…!”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Then you there, monk~. Please save me from my misery~.”

Gojo [Misumi]: (? She gave up just like that…?)

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Oh, monk~.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Master, please be careful! I suspect she is no ordinary woman!”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Tch. How did you know?”

Gojo [Misumi]: “I have never once met a woman who does not approach me!”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Aren’t you embarrassed saying that yourself…?”

Gojo [Misumi]: “It’s the truth, so what do you want me to do! Just to be clear, I’m not bragging or anything!”

*transforms*

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Well, whatever. It was the right call to station one of us here. It seems Ginkaku got the short end of the stick.”

Gojo [Misumi]: “Master, please run!”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Not on my watch!”

*slashes*

Gojo [Misumi]: “Geh—”

*falls*

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Hmph. Child’s play.”

Heaven’s voice: “Books are not everything.”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “…I…”

Kinkaku [Tenma]: “Now then, how should I cook Sanzo?”

Gojo [Misumi]: “MASTER!”

Sanzo [Kazunari]: “—!!”

---

*The original Japanese title is a play on words. Original: "最遊記" (saiyuki: Journey to the West). Summer troupe's play: "彩遊記" (saiyuki: the '彩' kanji being read 'sai' and meaning colourful, brilliant)

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[monkie-theory]

Monkie Kid Season 5 Theory

SPOILERS FOR ANYONE WHO HASN'T WATCHED THE ENGLISH DUB OF THE SEASON 4 SPECIALS OF MONKIE KID, PLEASE WATCH VIA THE LINK I HAVE PROVIDED BEFORE READING ALL OF THIS. THANK YOU!!!

After seeing the Season 4 specials, thanks to this person on Youtube (and here's the link to watch said video), and knowing that Season 5 is being recorded currently. I couldn't help but catch this snippet of dialogue from a couple scenes...leading me to believe that the real antagonist of Monkie Kid is....

The Seven Kings of the Underworld (plus King Yama) and/or The Underworld is facing corruption.

Now hear me out, that's a lot to take in so let me explained.

During part four of the special, when Sun Wukong, MK, and Azure are talking about who could have let him out, Wukong lets out a lot of information at once, especially about Azure and the brotherhood's imprisonment. (By the way, this scene, the VAs did an amazing job of pulling each word with the animation together beautifully)

The exact words I want to talk about is this large snippet of dialogue between Azure and Sun Wukong:

SWK: "Azure just stop, okay? You've won. You're going to destroy us just like you wanted. Us and the entire universe."

Azure: "No this is not what I wanted, I can still fixed this! I-I-It's the whole reason I'm here at all!"

SWK: "Wait how are you here?"

Azure: "What? What kind of question is that? You know exactly-"

SWK: "No, here and now. I put you in the Underworld myself! How'd you get out? How'd you get the scroll? I know for a fact you didn't steal it. You couldn't have-"

Azure: "I...I don't know. I-I was..."

SWK: "Azure, who gave you that scroll? Because whoever it was they must have known this would happen, wanted this to happened, and they used you to do it."

Okay, now I want to point out some key components from here, especially on Sun Wukong's side of the dialogue.

Sun Wukong states that he put Azure in the Underworld, and from S4, we can now fully tell that the scroll is from the Underworld (I'll explain that later). So how could the whole kingdom of the Underworld, which is known to be pretty meticulous over its citizens, let one of them mysteriously disappear without reporting it to the head honcho, Jade Emperor, or get that soul back? They went to Jade Emperor for Monkey King; why not Azure?

This didn't add up, so I kept this detail in mind while I finished watching the special (which is amazing, please watch it); that's when I came across something that solidified the small inkling that the Underworld has something to do with this whole mess....

After the beach scene we are transported to the very beginning of the story, well the first scene of S4. Which begins with this dialogue from a mysterious person who says...

"There will of course, be an inquiry into how the scroll of memory was stolen in the first place and what is to be done now that the Jade Emperor has been dethroned. The Universe is perilously close to tipping into chaos if it comes to light that any of this party were involved, you can believe that the consequences will be dire. But only a fraction of a price compared to what will come to pass should you succeed."

This creepy dialogue also shows something even more interesting, but I want to talk about how this dialogue says some keywords. Especially how the scroll of memory was "stolen" but not at all who was at fault (like who gave it to Azure), which would be the first thing on someone's radar when something is stolen. But they go on to state that if any of this "party" were involved with such a scheme, they would be punished.

I mean, dethroning a powerful deity by using a puppet would be kinda of treasonous huh?

But when the mysterious dude said "that any of this party..." something caught my eye.

Now if you know the legend of Monkey King and Journey to the West, you would know that there are seven lords of the Underworld with king Yama. Now count how many people are in the circle....

There are eight people in that circle all wearing the same clothing as though they all are apart of the same job and/or world. These are the same people who sealed up the scroll of memory, if you could see the details of the armor of each person in the circle you would see the similarities between the scroll of memory sealing scene and this one.

Which is why I believe the scroll of memory was in the underworld, the same place that the monkey king stated that he sent Azure Lion to.

Not only that, but who else could have gotten Azure the scroll of memory without the Heavens or Monkey King know automatically? It would be some powerful magic, almost as powerful as Lady Bone demon.

Before I state another theory that includes Lady Bone Demon, I also want to add that Lady Bone Demon's look, color palette-wise, looks very similar to the underworld's color palette. Blue, silver, purple, etc. the only difference being white and black. Plus LBD seems to have pulled Macaque from the dead, which is something that the Underworld has a history of being kinda of not happy about.

Now I believe that LBD was similiar to Azure Lion but different, she wasn't a puppet but someone who used to be a part of the underworld before splitting off in her own view of Destiny. (We all know where that ended up anyway....) The similarities of power, the details of each glyph that each party uses is a very creepy coincidence but as I always say:

I don't believe in Coincidences, all of these weird details are leading me to believe that King Yama's domain is either facing corruption or is plotting the tipping point of chaos to consume the universe. Either way, the Underworld is at fault for all of what happened in S4.

At least that's just a theory....

A MONKIE THEORY.

Thanks for reading!

[westleywithatea]

My thoughts on American Born Chinese (TV series)

My sister and I recently finished American Born Chinese, the TV series. Now I share my thoughts. I'll try to keep them in chronological order.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!

So...

After watching the first 2 episodes, my dad believed that the writers were racist towards Caucasians because the principal character mispronounced the 2 Chinese characters' names.

Note: My family is Asian. Both of my parents are born and raised in Vietnam.

I think the principal character was just clueless.

We accidentally watched Episode 2 and 3 out of order.

we get a flashback of Guanyin and Wei-Chen in Magic China. The trees are red, people are flying, you would think that you're watching the wrong show... If you had no idea what the show was about.

Flying people feels familiar nostalgic

Soccer team party and ... I'm pretty sure that's hazing

as long as nobody gets hurt

There's a lot yellow lighting. idk y

Sun Wukong hiding the staff in his ear is purely Chinese drama/TV only. according to my sister. Who read the novel? can they confirm?

Majority of episode 4 is a flashback in a style of an old Chinese Drama

it looks like something my parents would watch when I was small child age

You have no idea how many adaptations of Journey to the West there is. The original Classic novel is really old.

ALL BUDGET WENT TO COSTUME AND SET DESIGN!

Even the editing and CGI is low-budget. The way how the staff floats in the air, as if it's on a string. I love it. Very 1 on 1 with what I grew up with.

Episode 5: oh gods. NOT THE AUNTIES COMPARING CHILDREN!

Kế Huy Quan has a very Viet spelling of a name, but he's of a ethnic minority. My dad reads his name and knows Quan is Chinese.

(I'm still waiting for Wikipedia to fix the IPA pronunciation guide of his name. It's "Kay", like okay and hay. Not "kee", like Key or tree. )

His character, Jamie Yao, is very meta. I can tell the writers wrote him as someone who took on cardboard POC characters of the past. The writers and actors are using Jamie as that outlet to tell us what they always want to tell everybody from the beginning.

on to the next episodes...

transformations are never on screen. just off screen. play with cuts, lighting/ flashes, and other things. budget of this show went towards more important things.

Why is the dog in Ep 6 a yorkie? idk... I think they should've gone for another breed.

Episode 7: so... Did the Principal assumed Jin's mom as a tiger mom?

And shouldn't Jin's mom be using her maiden name? Or did Jin's parents got too assimilated in the American/ Western culture?

their names are Christine and Simon.

actually, they let Jin try out sports, go out with friends, and have a birthday party. With curfew.

They let him have a life!!

I wish my paretns are like that. >:(

I declined a birthday party invitation in 3rd grade because I was too afraid to ask my parents. I was so sure they would say no. They always say no to cousins sleepovers. (it's a sleepover of just the cousins.)

Episode 8: so the season finale ...

Jin's parents were fighting, now making up. There was no kissing. Thank you. Asian parents don't kiss. or people of that generation don't kiss. No kissing in East Asia.

flying people is normal. welcome to wuxia and xianxia. Let's GO!!!

Jin is so awkward. His kiss with Amelia is awkward. I appreciate. It's not a full on make out, like Hollywood rom-com. It's an awkward kiss done by awkward kids. Very real and in-character.

was that monologue about himself, Jin?

Very realistic ending. Very HISHE- moment. Jin asking for repeat and slower, because his Chinese isn't very good. Mood. Big Mood.

Where's Sun Wukong's monkey accent? Every CH drama has him in monkey accent. Including VN dubbing? (I'm talking about present day. I'm not talking about the Ep 4 flashback. idr if he spoke with monkey accent in the flashback.) Did he got too tired + stressed from parenthood that he turned super serious?

Sandy is now a woman

My dad explained this show to his sister as Sun Wukong but for kids of the 21st century. (She was staying over for a few nights and only watched like... 1 or 2 episodes.)

he is not wrong

occasionally, he explains the characters' Vietnamese names to me and my sister. The translation is still the same. Sounds are similar, because Vietnamese borrows a lot from Chinese.

Mom be walking in on the Mandarin-speaking scenes and asking what we're watching. Because we rarely watch films and shows in Chinese. It's either in English or Japanese (anime).

Imagine trying to explain Sun Wukong to your parents, who know the stories very well. But the catch is the language translation.

It's not Sun Wukong to my parents, It's now Tôn Ngộ Không (Tone Ng-oh Kh-ong).

Dad not understanding why Michelle Yeoh/ Dương Tử Quỳnh is returning to Hollywood because of her age.

I can not tell if he's being negative or positive or just plain confused. Or maybe he's confused on why his kids are watching her and not someone younger?

all story arcs get tied together in the very end. that's the point of drama writing. but there are few loose ends that bother me. like the pendant being lost forever.

This is a story about an immigrant family, written by immigrant families for immigrant families.

This is a story about being Asian, American, Asian-American, Asian in America, immigrants, and a child of immigrants.

Written by those people for those people

UPDATE:

It has come to my attention that there were on-screen transformations with special effects and CGI for the first few episodes

I guess the budget sorta ran out for the final episode??

I am disappointed in the cancellation of the show. Disney didn't advertise it well enough.

[junsei-draws-rotasu]

Monkie Kid: A Hero Is Born Live blog rewatch

Before I can go to S3, the season I left off and avoided for sometime until it’s available to watch, I needed to refresh my memory.

Oh wow straight to the intro

I also forgot that this has the same studio that animated ROTTMNT cuz the animation is sick!

Fun fact I only started to watch this because of a TIKTOK video of Macaque

The fight sciences scenes😍

Not SWK trapping DBK under a mountain just like Buddha did to him 🙂

Is this how the Journey to the West really ended? I really want to read but I don’t have it in me to read it. I’m just waiting for Overly Sarcastic Productions to make their video

Wow, sick translation Narrator

Ngl I forgot how Monkie Kid characters sounds like. With the fanfics I had read I genuinely written off Tang having a smooth gentle voice

Although MK’s voices caught me off guard

!!! I never noticed this!

This is a nice wallpaper

A warthog vs a pig in cooking… not sure who’s going to win this one /s

M.K. has some nice jams to listen too

M.K. is like me with phone screens. Never bother fixing them :,)

There's our impulsive Monkey!

How does M.K. do that?! How did he climbs—ah anime cartoon logic combined together is dumber than normal

You know I just realized. If this was an anime, you know they would put fan service on Iron Fan Princess

Even SWK was surprised at MK

Is that bull a robot or those arms are just prosthetics?

Oh, it is a Robot… you would think the Robots they created wouldn’t have this much emotions in them.

“Deemed worthy can hold it” what is this? Excalibur?

Just what kind of mystic did you infuse in that gauntlet?

Oh wow, Red Son you actually did it! Didn’t remember that

Can you even call that a mountain anymore? It turned into a hill!

Ooooo, didn’t remember that broken horn on DBK

“I had returned to the world of the living!” You didn’t die DBK, just sealed 😒

"No go away" *proceeds to peck* SWK you little shit

Aw, Red Son’s little face when DBK said excellent 🥹

What’s nothing more romantic than having your first meeting of your partner than landing on them… literally

I’m just giddy and amused by Red Sons antics on trying to look cool and impress his father

“Noodle boy” Oop, he said it!

Really want to put ADHD on M.K.’s character sheet cuz he just zoned out by looking at SWK staff

The two kids in the room having exaggerated expressions while the adults are just there with tired and confuse expression XD

Ah, I seem to forget that M.K. is also a little shit

With DBK’s exaggerated movements, I think I know where Red Son’s love of theatrics came from

The vehicle looks out of place

Not the noodles!

Red Son, why are you always ready to combust?… actually wait, don’t answer that

Oh that poor women’s apartment! How will she pay for it???

“Pigsy going to kill me🥹” Not if Red Son kills you first

Does the actual toy of the car really have a motorcycle inside?

Now how did Mei know M.K. was in trouble?

Ows, the property damage 😬

We all need Mei as a friend. I would know, because I am her

Something rare and expensive… go to a museum, but remembering the plot, it has to be a shoe

I'm sooo using this as a reaction

Props to the cashier to tell an intimidating person to go back in line

This feels like a fever dream but it's not

They’re immediately got to Flower Fruit Mountain?! Where’s the gag of day and night cycles going too fast?! Missed opportunity really

Technology defeated magic, oh how Rise!Donnie would be so smug

Here’s the cliche protag team thinking the MC is dead but they’re really not

Aw 🥺

You know they’re really angry when they’re smiling instead of raging

To think that staff used to be a pillar of a Sea Dragon God

Not my boy M.K. releasing the recent traumatic event he went through

Comparing Sha Wujing and Sandy… they look nothing alike… is this why people likes to write fanfics where Sandy killed Sha Wujing?

Yeah I don’t recall this magical sequence…

Aw, M.K. 🥹

Once again, I’m taken back at the voice

And here I thought it was fanon that SWK had his eye on M.K. as his successor for a while

Man, I would be mad at SWK for thrusting this kid into this situation but I remember now SWK is sooooo

“You believe in ourselves” that… does sound like a good plan

Convenient

Wow M.K. got rebirth into a stone egg

I was about to comment on how history going to repeat itself then I remember the future episodes I’m going to watch and DBK clearly not trap under something

Ow, that’s going to hurt

I’m having severe flashbacks of Krang vs Leo fight here qwq

Here’s the toy shot

I finally get it! Red Son's nickname for Mei! It's because Mei represents the dragon that turned into a horse in the Journey to the West! Wow!

And finished!

[introverted-ghost]

Hello, how are you doing? :))

Just realized how ~weird~ it is that we have been friends for this long and I do not know your name. I don't mean your real name necessarily, but just some way to call you? Lmao I literally cannot believe I am only now asking this, I feel like a terrible online friend :((

Funny how internet friendships work tho. Like I know you're a half-psychic pisces, and your favorite color is green, and you like The Owl House and The Ninja Turtles and Ninjago, and you have cats and several siblings.....

But I don't have a way to call you.

????

Honestly wtFUCK.

So imma ask you some questions to know you a lil better, if you don't mind.

1. HOW CAN I CALL YOU OMGGGG

2. Favorite candy

3. How was this past week? Anything fun?

4. What kind of books do you like? Not gonna ask favorite book, but just talk to me about books :) you like reading, right? I know you like comics, and reading comics is reading. You can talk to me about comics.

5. What is your favorite fun fact? Can be about anything. I'll tell you mine: a human teeth has 32 calories.

6. YOU HAVE CATS, RIGHT? I HAVE THIS MEMORY THAT YOU SHOWED ME SOME PICTURES OF THEM. RIGHT?? TWO OF THEM. I DIDN'T MADE THAT UP. RIGHT????

7. Do you still wanna be friends after this mess of an ask? Lmao.

Sorry. Currently 2:00 am. I shouldn't be allowed to use internet at this unholy hours.

I’m gonna fucking die I just finished answering this then tumblr crashed and it was gone. Anyways~

1. To be honest I don’t really care what people call me. Most folks call me dryad but I also go by edland, xero, kylan, and rian or anything else really since I don’t super care

2. I don’t think I have a favourite candy so I went to check what was in my stash which was virtually nothing (Imma have to stock up once I get paid) but there was a container of pink lemonade lemonheads (which are pretty good btw)

3. Id probably have to make a whole separate post to cover everything I did but basically we went camping a lot in different places across the province each night (depending on where you’re from that may not seem too impressive but I’ll tell you in messages the size of it compared to Colombia so you get the picture)

4. I like fiction stories, usually fantasy but chill if it’s not. I recently (yesterday) got a book from the library I asked for ages ago (it took extra time since the one they gave me originally was in Chinese so I returned that one and asked for one in english) it’s called journey to the west btw. I know a lot about it and have watched many adaptations of it but it’s nice to be able to read it. Yes I also like comics

These are all the Tmnt comics I have so far

5. I don’t know if this is my favourite fun fact or if I’ve already told you or if you already know since you’re super smart. The Latin words for 7 8 9 10 are septem octo novem decem respectively. You may recognize them as the 9-12 months of the year, which you would be correct. It bothered me that it doesn’t match up but they were named during the Julian calendar which started in April (that’s also how April fools started) so with quick comparing I learnt that it STILL DOESNT MATCH UP :|

6. I do have cats. Three of them though

First there’s Meredith he’s the oldest by a month

Then jingles

Skip ahead 5 or 6 years and you got Maggie (this picture was taken after she was spayed and we had to put her cone on when I wasn’t there to watch, she tried to escape while I was at school but just ended up making things worse for herself)

7. Yes of course I do!

Now you answer them! Well except 5 since you kinda already did. And 6 since it was kinda a me specific question. And 1 since I already know your name. And a modified 7 (do you still want to be my friend after this mess of an answer?)

Also go to sleep 🔫

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Prince Animage May 2021 Issue (Part 1)

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

Due to the amount of content in the magazine, I have decided to the split the translation into three parts as follows

Part 1: Elder Son’s Resolve! Interview with Director Satou Teruo

Part 2: We Won’t Give Up On the Future! Father-Daughter Round-Table Talk with Narita Ken, Matsumoto Sara, and Komatsu Mikako

Part 3: The Strength to Overcome Destiny. Interview with Director Satou Teruo

Please note that there are two interview articles with Director Satou in this magazine.

The Strength and Pride of a Beast King

The Beast King of the West’s (The Dog General) eldest son, Sesshōmaru. He is far from the stereotypical image of an eldest son being “A reliable elder brother who protects his younger brother” or “A filial pious male heir”.

He once clashed with his half-demon half-brother, Inuyasha, many times. Also, instead of ruling over the western lands in place of his late father, he continues a wandering journey. However, his outstanding ability and noble mindedness that can overwhelm others is that of a beast king’s eldest son. Always treading the path he believes in, he is an aloof existence who never sucks up to anyone, no matter how backed into a corner he gets. That is the way of life for Sesshōmaru, the one who inherits the blood of a beast king.

That stance does not change, even with his own daughters, Towa and Setsuna. He does not spoil them because they are his daughters. On the contrary, he is sending them on a difficult path. Even when his second daughter, Setsuna, lost her life as result, he never grieved.

At a glance, Sesshōmaru’s actions appear collected, but behind that he must surely be hiding his own conviction. Though we cannot yet see the full picture of what Sesshōmaru is thinking, let us wait for the second chapter (season) while believing in the strength and pride of the eldest son!

Sesshōmaru The Eldest Son of the Beast King of the West. A proud demon with greater demon parents. Though he is not on good terms with his younger brother, Inuyasha, when Kirinmaru tried to fell Inuyasha, Sesshōmaru sent Inuyasha inside the black pearl.

Family

Parents: The Dog General and his wife

Siblings: Younger half-brother, Inuyasha (different mothers)

How He’s Addressed: “Sesshōmaru”

When One Says Eldest Son, (one thinks) “Stubborn” Looks Like He Will not Show Affection for A While?

In episode 18, Sesshōmaru gallantly appeared before Towa and the others as they fell into a tight spot battling Kirinmaru. Even though he fended off Kirinmaru and saved his daughters, he left the scene without a word. There is a glimpse of Sesshōmaru’s obstinate heart when Jaken asks him “What about the two of them?” and he answers, “Don’t say anything”.

When One Says Eldest Son, (one thinks) “Pride” One Who Inherits the Blood of the General of the West

The pride he has for the beast king blood he got from his father is an aspect you can’t leave off when talking about Sesshōmaru. During the time of “Inuyasha”, it was that pride that made Sesshōmaru dislike and look down upon humans and half-demons. However, because of his meeting with the young girl, Rin, and moving with her, a kind heart slowly started to bud within him.

When One Says Eldest Son, (one thinks) “Harshness” Spartan Training for Even His Daughters

Though it was to hide them from Zero and Kirinmaru, to take his daughters away from their mother immediately after birth and imposing a “rite of courage and cowardice”? Even with Setsuna’s death before him, he entrusts Towa with Tenseiga, (a sword) that can resurrect a dead person only once, but the blade is broken… His harsh trial for his daughters will continue in the second chapter (season)?!

Pay Attention to These Eldest Sons Too!

Kohaku Eldest son of the demon slayer clan. During his youth, he had a somewhat unreliable side to him compared to his elder sister, Sango. However now, he has matured splendidly, both mentally and physically. Taking over from his late father, he became the head of the demon slayers.

Hisui Miroku and Sango’s eldest son. He has two older twin sisters, Kin’u and Gyokuto, who do things at their own pace. For a long time, whether it was just from the rebelliousness of an eldest son , he misunderstood his father as a greedy and cowardly person. However, in episode 13, he changed his perception.

Sōta The eldest son of the Higurashi family and Kagome’s younger brother. Towa’s adoptive father. He saw Kagome fighting demons during his childhood, so he more or less does not get phased easily. Even when Towa returned to the feudal era, he gave her a gentle push.

Kirinmaru It is not known if he has other siblings aside from his older sister, Zero, but one can sense the personality of an eldest son from his imposing appearance. Whether it is towards his elder sister, the severity in his roar might even get through to Sesshōmaru.

Eldest Son’s Resolve!

Formerly, there was special regard for the eldest son as the “heir to the clan”. However now, there is a diversity in worth. If there are neets, then there are also vagrant sons and there are even families that are not blood related! Various eldest sons who are each fighting in their own fields, gather around~!

Good Brothers, Good Rivals Director Satō Teruo

— Where do you think Sesshōmaru’s charm as an eldest son lies?

Satō: Even if you say elder brother, Sesshōmaru’s relationship with Inuyasha is that of a half-brother. You may not really get a sense of an eldest son or elder brother but… I think he’s fundamentally a nice person. For the sake of his goals, he’s willing to move (others) in a way that’s convenient for him, whether it be his younger brother or children. However, in truth, it’s also for their sake and it’s like despite everything, he won’t treat everyone badly.

— That’s a little elder brother like.

Satō: He clashed with Inuyasha for a long time but over time, he took action in a way that would become proper support. Although, I don’t know just how far Sesshōmaru planned things. He has a “Whether they live or die is up to them” kind of thinking. It’s possible that the actions Inuyasha chose to take just happened to turn out well.

— In “Hanyō no Yashahime”, there was a phrase that came up for the daughters’ trial = “Rite of Courage and Cowardice”. Could that harshness also be eldest son like?

Satō: Even during the “Inuyasha” era, Sesshōmaru would always back Inuyasha into a corner but Inuyasha overcame and crawled his way up. Not only do I think that Inuyasha was able to grow because he had that high wall known as Sesshōmaru, but if Sesshōmaru hadn’t been there, it’s possible that Inuyasha wouldn’t have been able to battle Naraku. I feel that the two of them are good brothers and good rivals. In that term, I think Sesshomaru has some amount of faith in Inuyasha.

— By the way, are you an eldest son yourself, director Satō?

Satō: I’m the same as Sōta, Kohaku, and Hisui in that I’m the “eldest son who’s also the youngest child”. For some reason, there are many eldest sons who are the youngest child in this work so somehow, I felt close to them. Being the eldest son while also being the youngest child is completely different from being the eldest son and child. Everything is based on the elder sisters’ mood! (laughs) My two older sisters would mimic Pink Lady (translator’s note: A pop duo from the late 1970s) and I would applause as I watched. There’s an image that that’s how eldest sons who are also the youngest child are thoroughly trained on “how to read the mood” (laughs).

— Sōta certainly is able to read the mood. He was completely unphased when Setsuna, Moroha, and the demon came from the feudal era.

Satō: Sōta has nerves of steel doesn’t he. Thanks to seeing Kagome and Inuyasha go back and forth to the feudal era right before his eyes, even when Setsuna, Moroha, and the demon appeared, he just took a philosophic view like “Ahahaha… See, I always told you. There are demons”. Being able to adapt to their surroundings like “that’s just how it is” I think is a trait of eldest sons who are also the youngest child (laughs).

— What about Kohaku’s aspects of being an eldest son?

Satō: Kohaku at present is splendidly carrying on the family work as the head of the demon slayers, though it’s not a large family like in the past. I think while carrying the pride he inherited from both his father and elder sister, he’s trying to protect the work of demon slaying. When thinking of Sango as an elder sister, she seems kind of scary (laughs).

— Hisui also inherited the family work.

Satō: You’re right, inheriting Hiraikotsu from Sango. With uncle Kohaku’s existence, it’s possible that Hisui felt “he wanted to do the same thing” during his childhood days, like how children from kabuki families do so to speak.

— If we’re talking eldest son with an older sister, it’s Kirinmaru.

Satō: That is the case. Kirinmaru was a beast king who ruled over the east and stood alongside the Dog General so he’s already a feudal lord/head of the house. There was the phrase “Don’t get carried away” that he said to Zero. As the head, he was admonishing his sister who lacked a sense of justice. I think that dislike for half-demons comes from their position. In the second chapter (season), a new key person will appear in the story. Kirinmaru’s family relationship will become more complex again going forward so please pay attention to how that relationship in regards with Sesshōmaru’s family will turn out.

[mizelophsun11]

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 8

Pairing - It is still General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner and will eventually shift to Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - First the little group from Ketterdam has to make it through the Fold before they can get to Eastern Ravka. As they travel through the Fold a past that Kaz does not like to talk about haunts his thoughts. A promise that he never intended on breaking brings more to Kaz than he cared to admit.

Word Count - 2550

-

“They want you to believe the Sun Summoner has been found to finally tear down the wall that divides us. But how many times have we been fed a story like that?! And how many times have we in the West been told to send our sons and daughters through the Fold for another year? It is time to accept that we need to break away from the old country! Now is the time to form our own country, to keep what we make and what we earn instead of sending it to the East! For the true Ravka!” Zlatan finished his speech and walked off towards the entrance of his tent where he shook hands with Arken who had an interesting proposition

Out in the open Kaz Brekker watched their exchange, he had not been too thrilled about this, but knew that they needed Arken to get them across the Fold. He would be able to come up with a plan to deal with Arken later. Kaz spotted Inej looking at the stones with names of people from the West who had gone through the Fold and died or never come back.

Inej noticed Kaz walk up to her with the tiny goat “he’s adorable”

“Don’t get too attached” he looked between her and the stones “I didn’t think I’d have to specify no detours for you”

“Even if just a few minutes could end a lifetime of questions?” Inej asked

Kaz sighed “I have looked at these stones for answers, when I couldn’t find her name these stones felt useless, just another reminder of an unknown”

“Maybe because she was able to survive the Fold, she is now the Sun Summoner, you cannot continue to deny it forever, there is hope you two will see each other again” Inej knew that they both were trying to find a name to have some closure, but it was not always that easy

“Hope is dangerous, it can cloud anyones judgement, including our own. Just like your mind has been clouded by your questions of my past with Anna Mizeloph, I told you I wanted your complete focus on this job” Kaz said adjusting the goat he was holding in his arm

“I will, this will be the last time I promise” Inej could tell that she was pushing on Kaz berries with talking about Anna

“Don’t forget Inej, we all have debts to pay” Kaz walked off to meet head towards the meeting point with Inej walking behind him

Once it got darker everyone had met at the disclosed location near the edge of town so they could start their journey, but there was one person missing, Jesper. They still made their way towards where the train would be when Inej stopped to read the sign.

“Wait, there are landmines here..” Inej said looking to Arken

“I put those signs up there to keep people away” Akren informed them

Kaz looked behind “where the hell is Jesper?” he did not want to be delayed

They walked over to where the machinery was hidden that would get them through the Fold “It’s one thing to hear about it, but.. This is..” Inej looked at the looming darkness as they got closer

“Nothing compared to what lies within” Arken went through the thick shadow and pulled the train out “there, so the goat, jurad.. Thank you. Now we are just waiting on the coal..”

“Wait for me!” Jesper yelled as he ran, followed by gunshots

Arken began to panic as he saw Jesper running towards their location with people following behind “they can’t see the train!”

“Leave the lantern!” Inej yelled

“Landmines!” Jesper looked at the sign

“Come on!” Kaz knew it was going to be close

Jesper tossed the lantern onto the ground and ran to the train in the dark making sure to watch his step. Once he got in he felt a slight sigh of relief wash over him, he had gotten coal and not been blown up.

“Please tell me you have 20 pounds of alabaster coal” Arken pleaded

Jesper gave him the bag “slight snap in the plan, turns out the kid who was helping me buy the coal didn’t exactly know how to, um, buy coal”

“We know you gambled it away” Kaz knew Jesper too well

“I lost a bit of the money.. Well, I lost all of the money, but! I was able to steal 20 pounds of alabaster coal” Jesper smiled a little

“No no.. there’s only 16 pounds” Arken was slightly panicking

Jespers smile faltered “16 pounds of alabaster coal”

“Can we do it on 16?” Kaz asked

“Never been done before, now I need you three to sit down and never shift your weight” Arken started to set everything up to get the train to start moving, then they suddenly heard the sound of an explosion and men screaming

Jesper shook a little “Landmines..”

Kaz looked up a Arken from his spot “I thought you said they weren’t real”

“I said no such thing, I just said I put the sign up” Arken began to put coal in and the train started, they entered the Fold.

It was quiet in the train so far, everyone was thinking about anything else than being inside the Fold. As the train chugged on Kaz knew that right now he should be thinking about what they will do to get into the Little Palace, but his thoughts drifted to Anna Mizeloph. He knew better, but Kaz could not help it, the little girl with white hair that he remembered was now the Sun Summoner. He remembered when they were younger, imagining their lives and how everything would work out.

-

Little 8 year old Kaz and Anna were holding hands as they ran down an alley holding a few items of food. Once they got to their safe spot they sat down and started to nibble at the food, Anna looked over at Kaz.

“What do you think our lives will be like once we are older Kazie?” Anna asked

“Honestly, I’m not sure, I want to get back at Pekka for putting me and Jordie in our current situation” Kaz was angry, he and his brother had the chance to start a new life when their father had died, they should not be in this situation

“But you met me.. You mean a lot to me Kazie” Anna said looking at the small amount of food she had left, this was all she knew, living on the streets

Kaz sighed “the future also involves me and Jordie becoming rich and you will be a part of that Anna, we will stick together” he smiled a little at her and pulled Anna close

“Good” she rested her head on his shoulder “but if you become rich can we travel the world? Maybe see Ravka? I’ve only heard of it from others travelers, but it sounds beautiful”

“Anything you want Anna” Kaz adjusted Anna and began to run his fingers through her hair to try and get a few tangles out “when we are older you will get whatever you want, I promise”

Anna smiled and closed her eyes feeling Kaz run his fingers through her hair. While she hated that Kaz and Jordie were cheated out of their money to survive, Anna was thanking every saint that she had known for meeting Kaz. She felt beyond lucky to have a best friend like Kaz and wished that they had met under different circumstances.

“Hey Kazie?” Anna said softly

“Yes Anna?” He continued to run his fingers through her hair now for comfort

“Can you make me another promise? This one is more important..” Anna could not imagine her future without Kaz

“Anything you want Anna” Kaz smiled a little finishing his combe through of her hair and pulled her close into a hug

“Promise me that we will never be separated, that we will grow up together and never leave each other, please promise me this” she pleased

“Yes, I promise” Kaz said, not knowing what the future held and that in a year he would break that promise. However, he didn’t know that, so with his ignorant bliss he made the promise

“Can we pinkie promise?” Anna asked looking at Kaz

Kaz smiled and nodded holding his pinky out “I promise”

Anna held her hand out and linked their pinkles “I promise” she continued to stay close to Kaz as he kissed the top of her head, their promise.

-

Kaz thought about that promise more than he would like to admit, he was the first one to break it. Even though it wasn’t really his choice because the people who collected him and his brother thought they were dead. However, that was still the moment of separation and Kaz wished that things could have been different. Anna was and still is an important girl to him and it made him think about what would happen when they were finally face to face. It would eventually happen since Anna is the key to the million kruge mission. Kaz wondered if she would recognize him or not, if she did how would she react? There was a lot running through his mind about Anna that was suddenly jossled when the train jerked.

With the sudden motion of the train came a strange noise snapping Kaz out of his thoughts “what was that?”

“Bits of metal hun on the poles, when they collide with the one on the train it markes where we are in our journey, right now we are on time” Arken said while looking at his watch

“How did you know where to put the poles?” Kaz asked

“Physics and engineering are a part of.. Most of my success” Akren continued to focus on his watch, he would glance at the coal then back at his watch

“And the rest?” Kaz glanced up at Arken

“What we might call divine intervention” Akren checked the coal against

“What other might call luck” Kaz never enjoyed relying on luck in anything

“And after all, the Fold is thick with volcra, and the tracks are not complete. Coal please” Arken said, Kaz threw some coal in

“I’m sorry, did you say the tracks weren’t complete?” Jesper asked starting to feel a little bit nervous and began to move

“Ah, ah! No moving” Arken said “it seems like we are falling behind, by my calculations we are now a tad late, more coal” Kaz put some more coal into the flames, fueling the train to continue going

“Back to the real issue, we are on tracks that don’t connect to other tracks” the amount of panic in Jesper was beginning to rise

“There is a gap, but..” Arken was going to continue but Kaz cut him off

“You said you could get us through, how much of a gap?” Kaz asked

Arken sighed, continuing to watch the coal and the watch to see if they could get back to being on time. “I built slats on the car, they roll into place under the wheels and the turbine generated enough wind to push all the way to the eastern tracks. This only works if we did not shift our weight, now we are about to go past a nest, the noise may attract volcra but it is the only way across”

As they continued through the sound of growling volcra echoed “now we have a problem, but we should be fine if they haven’t attacked us by..” the flapping wings of volcra got closer

Kaz looked at how Arken reacted “if need be how do you fight them off?”

“There is no way to fight them off, I can only outrun them to give a fighting chance. Open the throttle and toss all of the coal in, if we had 20 pounds this would work” as the coal was tossed in the train was gossled, Arken looked out to see what had happened “Damn! One of them impaid itself onto a spike”

The blood from the Volcra seeped through the ceiling and into the train “we need to get it off or else the other will stand on it” Kaz said

“More coal!” Arken commanded

Kaz threw the rest of the coal in and the bag it came in “we are down on fumes!”

Everything was beginning to unfold against them, they were behind, volcra were now attacking their only means of transportation through the Fold. A true nightmare, it almost had seemed too good to be true in the beginning when everything was running smoothly. Kaz could tell that they would be cutting it close, if they could even make it through.

Arken nodded “we won’t make it with this extra weight” he continued to try and get the dead volcra off the spike

“This is how we die” Jesper said

“Jesper grab the goat” Arken looked down at his watch to see if they were any close to the other side of the Fold

“I’m not throwing out the goat!” Jesper yelled

“Damit it Jesper, grab the damn goat! It’s not bait, it is for you now I need you to calm down and hug the goat!” Arken yelled back at Jesper

The sound of metal meeting metal rattled through the train “no no.. we should have hit that mark 20 seconds ago”

This caught Kaz's attention “20 seconds? Meaning..”

“My timing is precise in order to get us through, even 20 seconds behind means the train could stop inside the Fold which means.. Death for all of us” Akren looked down at the flames keeping the train going, but his attention was pulled away by the sound of volcra “there are more coming.. You may want to make your peace..”

Kaz never hoped for anything, until now he was hoping to make it through the Fold to see Anna. He had never been afraid of death, every mission in Ketterdam was a risk. However, this was different, he could die right here and never see Anna again. Within his thoughts he realised that there was so much more to this mission. Once her name left that man's lips the night of the job, that night he knew that this would be his chance to see her again. He needed to stay alive in order to see her and that would not be possible if he died in the Fold.

Arken looked up as the contraption that had taken him across the Fold too many times to count, it was now being torn apart by a few volcra. Jesper knew what he had to do, he had the guns, with his skills in hand he approached where the volcra were tearing through the top. The monsters screamed and with collection Jesper began to fire off shots at the swarming volcra killing all of them. It was a moment of silence before another metal ping rang, the sun shone through the hole made by the dead volcra. A sigh of relief left everyone in the train, they had made it through the Fold, alive. Now they had to figure out what the next plan was in order to get them into the Little Palace and get Anna Mizeloph.

-

Author Note - I am so sorry this chapter came later than I had hoped! These seem to only get longer and longer XD However I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! I originally did not plan on adding this chapter, but I thought it would be good to see more of Kaz and the past he has with Anna Mizeloph. Like always feel free to pm me if you would like to or leave a comment, I love reading what everyone has to say!

Tag List- @rika90 @itsemy01 @hotleaf-juice @teatimeforusreaders @benbarnes-supremacy @graciefullygracie @aleksanderwh0r3 @klaudosh @herbatkazmilosica

[kaypeace21]

The theme with “time” this season makes me think of the phrase, “wanting to turn back the clock.” And I then think of Will never wanting to grow up and wanting to go back to the old days of playing dnd in Mike’s basement.

And then I think of Will’s (speculated) reality altering bending powers. So could there be a possibility that Will may use those powers to “turn back the clock”?? Maybe rewrite how things happened? Maybe it would be after Mike’s “death” like you speculated earlier. Since he thinks Mike is “dead” he wants to go back, and that’s what he does accidentally.

ALSO, Hopper tells joyce that he was trying to runaway from his "past" trauma with sara- before he says that line in the letter about wanting to turn back the clock and then saying it's not possible to do so . (And that life life hurts you but eventually you get out of that cave and life goes on ). Similar to Will he wants to turn back the clock to better times, but a part of him isn't ready to accept his entire past/ the tra*uma that comes with that- in order to move on and heal for the future .

Like robin said about back to the future "he's stuck in the past .But he needs to get back to his time which is the future!"

HOWEVER- I DON’T THINK THERE’S ANY REAL TIME TRAVEL!!!!

I’ve mentioned  my time-theory many many many times- in relation to my DID theory.  even if my did theory is completely wrong (aka Will has powers so his alters/split personalities/innerworlds come to life)- 

We also see how memories are explored in a supernatural way in st - it’s not literal timetravel just El using her powers to explore tra*matic memories of others (Terry/Billy so far). Like NO TIME TRAVEL PLEASE-THAT’S JUMPING THE SHARK. I really don’t want it lol. XD I think hopper and Robin's lines allude to the theme that will be addressed: confronting the past/times that harmed you but overcoming it for the future because time goes on 'whether you like it or not '.

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In reference to my time-did theory. Look at the st s4 movie inspirations. In ‘what dreams may come”  a guy explores a heaven like world influenced by a painter’s emotions/created via immagination.We also have the movie ‘inside out’ -which involves “memory islands” (distinct worlds based on a child’s memories) which are influenced negatively by the kid being depressed she moved to California. The characters traveling to these memory islands are constructs of  kid’s mind -and 1 of them also has a guide helping them explore the ‘memory islands’.  Welcome to marwen- has an artist (attacked for being perceived as gay) imagining an abstract world based off his art- where the characters he made experience their own adventures (loosely based off the artist’s trauma). ‘The cell ‘ has characters explore the mind of a guy whose father ab*sed him- and the different alternative fantasy-worlds they explore are based off his memories. The cop exploring these memory-worlds, was also implied to be se*ually ab*sed by his dad . Also,in  Inception a guy says he’s a construct of a guy’s mind ( the guy who created the dream worlds that are like alternate dimensions/levels- also hates his dad). And leo’s character says he needs to help him escape the many different levels of the dream world of the mind. Movies like inception, total recall, the cell, enter the void, wizard of oz, Peter Pan, hellraiser 2, dream warriors, bill & ted’s bogus journey, the labyrinth,and welcome to marwen, all allude to this: because they involve entering simulated abstract worlds usually created/based on happy& traumatic memories/fears. While truman show/matrix are more about realizing your reality isn’t real. While in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper/el realizing they’re alters of Will’s-and their memories were technically created by him.

Something some DiD suffers have are “innerworlds” .When someone has DID there can be multiple “innerworlds” that are separate from one another (and look very different from one another) .And are usually very abstract worlds that are based on the child’s memories (good &bad) . These worlds are usually created at different times and almost act like alternate dimensions (and the inhabitants -npcs/alters of those worlds usually don’t interact with one another) . So they can almost resemble alternate dimensions like how Scott Clarke mentions “Hugh Everett’s many worlds interpretation.” Russia where Hopper is- is probably one of those innerworlds.

HOPPER THEORY: 

tw:ab*se/r*pe. In s2 Nancy asks Steve how his “grandpa’s time in the war is a metaphor for your life?” And steve compares the mf to the germans in the war. Dr owens mentions Will has ptsd like “ (vietnam) soldiers’, Hopper saying he had buddies like Will . “In the 70s there was a study that compared the post-traumatic stress symptoms in Vietnam veterans and adult survivors of childhood s**ual ab*se. The study revealed that childhood s**ual ab*se is traumatizing and can result in symptoms comparable to symptoms from war-related trauma.” Hopper isn’t actually in Russia -but in one of the innerworlds (after he jumped through the rift of the machine- into Will’s mind). We’ll see flashbacks but also present circumstances of his imprisonment echo Will’s past with Lonnie (if the movies indicate anything)- being starved, guards getting payed in order to let other prisoners  r*pe a gay prisoner (than claim incorrectly because of his sexuality he wanted it) , as well as a gang of sadist men who r**e others and a warden using that as a threat to be compliant , being thrown in a dark room of solitary confinement and starved when they didn’t obey the warden, the warden being religious, etc. And the American soldiers (in Vietnam) in the movies aren’t much better and do similarly horrific acts to civilians like r**e and bragging/ happily k*lling women, children, and the elderly. The drill sergant in vietnam calling them homophobic slurs & women, and chocking one of the soldiers with one hand (like the mf/russian), slapping one for not believing in christianity. Tying up a soldier in a bed , gagging him, beating him and saying “remember it’s just a dream.” Only praising them when good in fire arms.(movies : fullmetal jacket, papillon, shawshank redemption, platoon, welcome to marwen, etc ) . My assumption is flashbacks of his life-  hints about him being an alter -the boxes in the basement are “vietnam” ,“dad”, and “ny” (and these are the memories of his we’ll see).or after escaping the prison he’s stuck in diff innerworlds of memories. And some of the bad characters in said stories will also parallel Lonnie . Like how in  the s4 film ‘peterpan’- the young girl Wendy imagines netherland and the villain -captain hook- is based off her father ( in the movie they have the same voice actors/while in all stage productions the 2 characters are always played by the same actor). Similar to the other s4 film- ‘wizard of oz’ where the wicked witch of the west from the mythical land of Oz (is played by Dorothy’s real life mean neighbor in the real world/kansas).Or in ‘the cell’- all the alternate dimensions of the dream world that were created by a guy with a ab*sive h*mophobic dad -had the same actor play the villain in each very different dream dimension. ”Not sure if they’d use Ross Patridge (actor of Lonnie) in this way . But it would be very interesting if (In makeup) Ross played many negative people in Hopper’s life.  

Also, in  s2, Jonathan mentions Indiana writer Vonnegut- In his book ‘slaughterhouse 5′- Vonnegut begins the story of Billy (William) Pilgrim, a man who has “come unstuck in time”. (time ref of Hopper saying he wants to ‘turn back the clock.’ or’ runaway from his memories.‘It accounts of Billy Pilgrim’s capture and incarceration by the Germans during the last years of World War II (Hopper captured by the russians), and scattered throughout the narrative are episodes from Billy’s life with his dad, and his own wife and kids.Billy is forced to be part of the war and similar things against his free will. The moments start from his childhood when his father throws him in the water to teach him how to swim. He was unwillingly drafted into the war. Later, he is kidnapped by Tralfamadorians  (aliens that are implied to be caused by his mental health issues/trauma) against his will. Therefore, he realizes that this concept is just an illusion.in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper realizing he’s an alter and his memories are technically ‘created’ . Like in total recall- the bad ass spy is told all his memories: his wife/ years of marriage,  his name, are just implanted memories. And she says “you’re life is a dream.” We also have ‘Arrival’ -the parent’s daughter died young cause of terminal cancer- and the mother later realizes time is also just a abstract construct (a thing she can experience differently than others), but she still finds meaning/happiness in those memories/times.

I also talked about how sarah as an alter could come back and the 2 would explore the “innerworlds” of Will’s mind together (you can read the details there). 

El and Will theory 

I’m thinking of the s4 movies and 1 matrix scene comes to mind that could be an obvious hint to Did (and Will’s importance). Mr smith (the suited calm villain/ who is a literal computer program of the matrix world -cough alter/npc of Will’s) kidnaps/ ties up Morpheus to a chair (like Will in s2), injects him with drugs in the neck ( like s3 steve/ will’s arm in s2).  Then Mr smith says as everyone leaves the room “I’m going to be honest with you. I hate this place, this prison, this reality or what you call it.” (grabs Morpheus’ head and glares) “ I need to get out of here! I need to be free! And this mind is the key.”(referring to morpheus).morpheus also translates to ‘god of dreams’. Also Morpheus was wearing head gear similar to El in s1/Will in s2 . or in 12 monkeys the guy sent to psych ward -starts believing he’s just “crazy” and says “i created a world with those people in it.” “It’s not real .I’m just mentally ill, like you said ” when you know- it is all real,cause of the supernatural angle involved. in 12 monkeys a patient even tells him the fictional world he created would dissappear once his mental health was in order.

Then there’s the El stuff.  Hellraiser 2- has a normal psych hospital, but the basement floor has an evil psychiatrist experimenting on teens to open a portal to another reality. assasains creed/dream warriors -  has the psychiatric facility be similar to the s1 lab with sensory deprivation tanks, cameras, solitary confinement in dark rooms.The doctor experiments on them- and forces a character to go into the memories of another individual (we know El has memory powers).The dr reveals how the character’s reality/whole life isn’t what they think it is (and that the memories they saw with their powers-was their past life and they are that person’s reincarnation) . Aka Will is the host- and El is an alter (alters can see memories of other alters/the host irl-aka billy/terry were also alters ).

In assasain’s creed there’s 2 psychiatrists- one bad / one who is good (but influenced by the bad dr). One dr annoyed at the lack of progress, says about the patient “he doesn’t want to remember his father.” While one dr doesn’t want to rush the therapy/ the other dr wants the patient to go back into his memories regardless of how it affects him. (which could be Brenner & maybe Owens referring to Will’s dissociative-amnesia and not remembering all the ab*se Lonnie did. And Owens not wanting to rush it/hurt el by making her go into said memories …but Brenner not caring.

also other hints : Cough s4 using the movie wizard of oz refs “we’re not in Hawkins (kansas) anymore”-hint at russia. David on instagram posting st stuff and captioning it with and quotes, pretending to be dorothy from the film. Hopper in s1 saying hawkins lab was “emerald city” (referencing El- it’s also why they reference El entering our world in ep 1 and the alice in wonderland song plays) . Murray says about the supernatural “no one wants to see behind the curtain” (what was behind the curtain in wizard of oz-was a wizard aka Will). Or you know right before Will sees the mf for the first time -a clock turns rapidly/ he  has goosbumps at the back of his neck. Which he later grabs/states  are from “memories” he can’t remember that are like a “dream”. 

If i’m right-not sure how much of this may happen in s4 vs s5, though. But I think something like this is possible.  For all we know-Will/El being trapped with Brenner while Hopper escapes ‘russia’ could be how the season ends? The timeline i’m a bit iffy about-tbh.

[whentheynameyoujoy]

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

[mrsjadecurtiss]

Another ask, if you have the inclination: I've just been rereading Reek III with all that entails, and Theon thinks about 'the son is just the shadow of the father' re Roose and Ramsay. Do you believe that Roose can actually be as bad or worse than Ramsay at this point? He's got to be worse than average and his morals very lacking, but it's hard to imagine us being made to abhor him more than Ramsay in the remaining books. Is it just Theon's terrified paranoia, or do you think it can pay off somehow? 🤔 Or am I misinterpreting that line do you think?

Do you believe that Roose can actually be as bad or worse than Ramsay at this point? He's got to be worse than average and his morals very lacking [...].

This is a trap, he is playing with you, the son is just the shadow of the father. Lord Ramsay played with his hopes all the time. - Reek III, aDwD

This is no man to jape with. You had only to look at Bolton to know that he had more cruelty in his pinky toe than all the Freys combined. - Reek III, aDwD

I believe quotes like these refer to the effect of the cruelty they enact, rather than the specific crimes.

Ramsay is vile and cruel, enacting heinous violence upon people like a slasher movie villain. We do not have any evidence that Roose personally inflicts the same degree of crass violence upon people, as even in his presumably candid retelling of the miller's wife story, while a horrifying and inexcusable crime, he does not reach the extreme level of violence Ramsay inflicts upon smallfolk on the regular with his hunts and torturings.

"Roose Bolton's cold and cunning, aye, but a man can deal with Roose. We've all known worse. But this bastard son of his … they say he's mad and cruel, a monster." - Davos III, aDwD

The point, i believe, is not who produces the worst feats of violence, but rather another facette of grrms criticism of feudalism:

Would Ramsay even have a chance to do these heinous crimes if his father, who knows about everything, had an ounce of morality in him?

[Roose:] "All you have I gave you. You would do well to remember that, bastard." - Reek III, aDwD

Everything Ramsay has, his high position, the freedom to do all the crimes he wants, the protection from law that would have otherwise sent him to the wall in no time, he has because of his father's selfishness. Roose could have stopped these crimes from happening, he could have given Ramsay the appropriate punishment, instead he keeps Ramsay around because he feels like it...

Roose is at the top of his society, answering to barely anyone except his overlord and his king; so much power is at his fingertips, and yet he uses it for selfish reasons, commits crimes, allows crimes to happen in full knowledge, and everything is handled as it benefits him instead of abiding to morality or law. Every crime Ramsay does is Roose' responsibility as feudal lord and thus his crime.

"When soldiers lack discipline, the fault lies with their lord commander," his father said. - Tyrion VIII, aGoT

Roose is called the leech lord, and indeed he is a leech upon society, bleeding his people dry to his own benefit while not lifting a finger himself. While he is not a literal vampire, obviously parts of his character are a play on vampire myths, and the aristocratic bloodsucking vampire is frequently used as a metaphor for critique of the ruling class (i hear Fever Dream by grrm plays with this, though i have not read it). He might not commit a Texas Chainsaw Massacre in person, but that doesn't make him any less morally bankrupt and despicable, and he still has the same blood on his hands.

There is a tendency where Roose tries to lighten his crimes in conversation - here are three examples showing different facettes:

"The arrogance of it! They do not expect the north to believe their lies, not truly, but they think we must pretend to believe or die. Roose Bolton lies about his part in the Red Wedding, and his bastard lies about the fall of Winterfell." - Davos IV, aDwD

[Roose:] "Tell me, my lord … if the kinslayer is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?" - Reek III, aDwD

[Roose:] "The maesters will tell you that King Jaehaerys abolished the lord's right to the first night to appease his shrewish queen, but where the old gods rule, old customs linger. The Umbers keep the first night too, deny it as they may. Certain of the mountain clans as well, and on Skagos … well, only heart trees ever see half of what they do on Skagos." - Reek III, aDwD

1. Denial of involvement - Roose frequently either escapes blame completely (for example for Duskendale), puts blame on someone else (like blaming Ramsay's bastard blood for Winterfell), or lies about his crimes to evade blame.

2. Selectively invoking law - using the kinslaying law, he pretends his hands are tied when it comes to Ramsay, even though he could for example also send him to the wall as punishment. He frequently breaks laws as he pleases and also took part in breaking sacred contracts such as guest right (red wedding), so him invoking law in this instance is likely a tool to absolve himself of blame during the conversation.

3. Comparing himself to others to lessen his own acts, after failing to escape blame - by bringing the Umbers etc into the conversation, he tries to make himself look less bad; "look, everyone's doing it, and the skagosi are probably even worse than me!"

As opposed to Ramsay, he is aware of how the severity of the crimes he is doing would be received by others. He likes to present himself as a rational and civilized man, and thus has an interest to downplay his criminal actions, even if he does not see anything wrong with them as he did them for his own benefit.

"No tales were ever told of me. Do you think I would be sitting here if it were otherwise?" - Reek III, aDwD

"That annoyed me, so I gave her the mill and had the brother's tongue cut out, to make certain he did not go running to Winterfell with tales that might disturb Lord Rickard." - Reek III, aDwD

As the Mormonts were bannermen to the Starks, [Jorah's] crime had dishonored the north. Ned had made the long journey west to Bear Island, only to find when he arrived that Jorah had taken ship beyond the reach of Ice and the king's justice. - Eddard II, aGoT

The foolish Ramsay tries to pride himself in his crimes; Roose however knows of the importance of optics. He is aware that he frequently breaks the law, and tries his best to keep his reputation intact as to not attract unwanted attention; especially with an overlord like Ned Stark, who would not handwave any crime and would make sure justice is served.

From what we can observe, in my opinion the difference between Roose and Ramsay is that Roose doesn't see anything wrong with comitting violence as long as the result is of a benefit for him, while Ramsay additionally also commits violence because he merely finds enjoyment in inflicting it, violence for violence's sake. This is why Roose is able to control himself and always gives Ramsay the advice to be restrained, but Ramsay is unable and unwilling to do so and his acts are much more extreme. Roose is likely starting to realize this difference by aDwD.

Is it just Theon's terrified paranoia [...]?

I do also believe Theon's statement is fueled by paranoia, if you look at the entire context:

"I mean you no harm, you know. I owe you much and more." - "You do?" Some part of him was screaming, This is a trap, he is playing with you, the son is just the shadow of the father. Lord Ramsay played with his hopes all the time. "What … what do you owe me, m'lord?" - "The north. The Starks were done and doomed the night that you took Winterfell." He waved a pale hand, dismissive. "All this is only squabbling over spoils." - Reek III, aDwD

Roose is not necessarily tricking Theon here since it appears to be a correct statement; And he does have an interest to be on friendly terms with Theon (offering him fresh clothes for example) because he wants to make use of his position as heir to the iron islands, a goal he expressed as early as a Storm of Swords.

"Flaying Theon will not bring my brothers back," Robb said. "I want his head, not his skin." - "He is Balon Greyjoy's only living son," Lord Bolton said softly, as if they had forgotten, "and now rightful King of the Iron Islands. A captive king has great value as a hostage." - Catelyn VI, aCoK

"Serve us in this, and when Stannis is defeated we will discuss how best to restore you to your father's seat," his lordship had said in that soft voice of his, a voice made for lies and whispers. Theon never believed a word of it. - The Prince of Winterfell, aDwD

Note that here Theon does not believe him either, any trust he has shattered by Ramsay as well as Roose' unlikable personality. Still it seems likely Roose was really somewhat trying to be nice with Theon, because as he tries to teach Ramsay there's value in it:

"Power tastes best when sweetened by courtesy. You had best learn that if you ever hope to rule." - Reek III, aDwD

Do you think it can pay off somehow?

This is speculation, but i believe Roose' story is likely headed in the opposite direction - A Storm of Swords featured his greatest villainous feat, the Red Wedding, a showcase of cruelty and treacherousness. I do not think it will be followed up by an act of even greater cruelty; instead i think he will finally reap what he has sown.

Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before — an uneasiness, even a hint of fear.

That night the new stable collapsed beneath the weight of the snow that had buried it. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

I believe the line about the stable is meant as a metaphor for his regime collapsing, as it is put directly after the line where he realizes the situation is growing dire for him.

It all seemed so familiar, like a mummer show that he had seen before. Only the mummers had changed. Roose Bolton was playing the part that Theon had played the last time round, and the dead men were playing the parts of Aggar, Gynir Rednose, and Gelmarr the Grim. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

Roose is likely going to continue the parallel with Theon as his arc goes steadily downwards. He is a foil to Ned; where Ned died but his legacy lives on, Roose will likely live to see his legacy crumble.

There is of course a possibility that he, when cornered, starts expressing more cruelty as a last-ditch effort. We saw the stable used as a metaphor for his rule in Winterfell; but there is another interesting detail about the reconstruction of the burned Winterfell:

Serve well, Lord Bolton told them, and he would be merciful. Stone and timber were plentiful with the wolfswood so close at hand. Stout new gates had gone up first, to replace those that had been burned. Then the collapsed roof of the Great Hall had been cleared away and a new one raised hurriedly in its stead. When the work was done, Lord Bolton hanged the workers. True to his word, he showed them mercy and did not flay a one. - the Prince of Winterfell, aDwD

Aegon the Conqueror had commanded [the Red Keep] built. His son Maegor the Cruel had seen it completed. Afterward he had taken the heads of every stonemason, woodworker, and builder who had labored on it. Only the blood of the dragon would ever know the secrets of the fortress the Dragonlords had built, he vowed. - Catelyn IV, aGoT

This is a crack theory, but perhaps Roose has something up his sleeve when it comes to the newly constructed roof of the Great Hall (a location that features extremely prominently through all of Theon's aDwD Winterfell chapters). Maybe he could make it crash intentionally to bury his treacherous allies or something like that...

I doubt however that he will do Ramsay-style extreme violence, i can't really see a reason and it doesn't appear to be his style. He seems more about cunning than flashy displays.

As always these are not PoV characters, so as long as we don't have a view inside their heads we can never say anything with 100% certainty.

[ibijau]

part 9 of the Nomad Nie AU // On AO3

the nomads move for the winter, and encounter some trouble on the way

After some consideration, Lan Xichen and Huaisang decided that Mingjue did not need to know that his brother had hurt himself for the time being. Though the wound was healing slowly, Huaisang swore that it was getting better at what was a normal speed for him, and Lan Xichen believed him. After all, Huaisang had stopped fighting his husband on that subject, and allowed Lan Xichen to help him keep the wound clean and to check on it when they were alone. It did seem healthy enough, as long as Huaisang didn't poke it too much.

They also decided that, until Mingjue had forgiven Lan Xichen for the hunting trip, it would be best if he didn’t know that Huaisang had shared his secret with his husband. Lan Xichen felt somewhat uncomfortable about what seemed like a lie to him, but trusted Huaisang to know his brother’s temper.

There were more pressing things to think about anyway. A few days after that conversation, the time came for the whole clan to move toward their winter dwellings, and such an endeavour left little time for personal problems. Lan Xichen had never even moved houses, except for the summer after his mother’s death which his brother and him spent at a relative’s home. Taking what amounted to an entire village and putting it on wheels was particularly impressive to him. He asked as many questions as he could, and Huaisang patiently answered them all, with Mingjue or Meng Yao adding details if one of thel was around.

As Huaisang explained, for their clan moving was a more complicated thing than for most others, because they were a larger group than most nomads. If Mingjue had not been Khan, it was likely that some of their most distant cousins would have broken off in search of their own territory. Even like this, they usually separated in two smaller groups during the winter so that their respective herds didn’t compete for food and exhaust the winter grass too soon.

“You don’t prepare hay for the winter?” Lan Xichen asked upon hearing this.

“Hay?” Huaisang repeated. “Hay… I don’t know that word.”

“It’s… cutting grass and putting it to dry so animals have something to eat in winter,” Lan Xichen explained.

“Ah… no, they manage on their own. Our animals are smart enough for that,” Huaisang proudly said. “If Han beasts are too stupid to feed themselves, it must be so bothersome.”

“We just raise them differently,” Lan Xichen protested, though having lived most of his life in the city before this trip with his uncle, he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps Han animals were really lazy and pampered. He would have to ask Meng Yao if he was more educated in these matters. “Isn’t it dangerous to break into groups like this? Aren’t you at war with the Wen?”

Huaisang laughed, and nodded before explaining that it would have been rude for anyone to attack in winter. It offended the heavens, and unless there was some very great dispute happening between two clans or two tribes, then usually even enemies could be expected to offer hospitality once the first snows started. In the same manner, attacking while people were moving camp was such a repulsive concept that Huaisang actually shivered when Lan Xichen expressed that worry.

“What honour is there in a victory over weakened people?” Huaisang asked.

“But then, less soldiers die,” Lan Xichen pointed out, which got him a horrified look. Sun Zi possibly wouldn’t be a popular read here, he figured, and quickly changed the subject before offending his husband’s sensibilities any further.

When the big day came, it took barely more than a sichen for each family to dismantle their ger, and only a little more time to place the different components on carts pulled by oxen. For personal items, crates had been put on the back of other oxen. Those crates were also used to carry those too young or too old to be riding horses. Cattle could carry more weight than horses, Huaisang had explained, and they were usually more even tempered. At the same time, they were more dangerous when their temper did change, and it was not unusual for people to die or be wounded during the move. They did everything they could to prevent that, but the risk could never be fully eliminated.

Because the migration could be dangerous, young people often took it as a matter of pride to help keep everyone safe. Almost everyone had a story about some disaster or other that they had prevented, be it calming an ox before it could throw off the babies it carried, or killing wolves that had been chasing one of the herds. Everyone except Huaisang, who Khan Mingjue kept close to himself and forbade from putting himself in danger.

That year, like every year apparently, Huaisang begged his brother to put him in charge of something. He promised to be careful, to let someone else handle the oxen if they were too agitated, to only shoot from a distance if there were wolves, but his brother refused to listen, and even threatened to have him ride on an ox like a child if he wouldn’t stop being unreasonable. 

Having said this, Khan Mingjue braced himself for his brother to explode with anger, as did everyone around them. Yet Huaisang, in spite of his obvious humiliation at being dismissed that way, managed to keep his calm this time.

“If that’s my Khan’s decision, I’ll respect it,” he hissed. Then, after a glance at Lan Xichen who nodded encouragingly, he added. “Still, do consider it, if the need arises. We need everyone to do their part, and I don’t want to do any less than others. If there’s something I can do, I hope you’ll let me.”

“I will,” Mingjue promised, taken aback by that reasonable reaction.

Satisfied for the time being by that progress, Huaisang dropped the matter and went away with his husband to show him the cart containing their own ger. When they were far enough from the Khan, Huaisang kicked some clump of yellowed grass with enough force to send it flying, and launched into a long rant against his brother’s tyrannical tendencies. Lan Xichen counted this as a victory anyway. If Huaisang could learn to keep his temper in check around his brother, then the Khan might start to accept that his brother was more than just a capricious child.

Huaisang’s promise to be well behaved and not put himself in danger was soon put to the test. Even within the first few days, there were already incidents happening. Nothing too big on the whole, but only because it was caught on time: oxen getting annoyed, herds being spooked by somethings and nearly running in panic, and a pack of wolves that seemed to be following them from a safe distance, clearly waiting for a chance to strike.

“We’ll lose a few horses, probably some cows as well,” Huaisang predicted, before his face turned dark. “In bad years, we lose a child that wandered off.”

Lan Xichen shivered upon hearing this. He knew wolves were dangerous, of course, but they had never been part of his daily life. His uncle had warned him they might encounter some as they travelled west, but he had made it sound like a small risk compared to what some nomads might do to them if caught. Lan Xichen hoped he wouldn’t have to come anywhere near wolves, not when even someone as fearless as Zonghui would show caution when chasing them away from the herds.

Of course, younger men showed less fear. About a week into the start of the journey, one boy a little younger than Huaisang managed to shoot a wolf that had attacked a heifer under the cover of night. He proudly showed off his kill to the entire clan, and was treated like a hero by his peers. Even though the Khan advised against needless acts of courage, he too congratulated the boy for his success. Huaisang watched, clearly devoured by envy, but said nothing.

A few nights after, when there was another attack while Huaisang was keeping watch. It was a normal chore for young people, but for Huaisang it was a first, and the Khan had made it quite clear he shouldn't take it as an excuse to be reckless. So when he heard wolves, Huaisang dutifully told others to go after the animals and stayed safely behind. This time two wolves were killed, and again the Khan thanked the young people who had protected the herds while his brother seethed quietly.

The morning after, Huaisang was in a predictably dreadful mood as they resumed their journey. Sitting on his horse more stiffly than usual, Huaisang kept glaring at everyone, and looked ready to snap at whoever would dare to talk to him. Lan Xichen felt dreadfully sorry for his husband, especially as he was beginning to understand just how important that sort of heroism was among the nomads. The wolves’ pelts had been prepared to be kept right away both times, and Lan Xichen had been explained they’d either be sold for a very high price or kept as precious courting gifts, valued as highly as a good racing horse.

“You’ll have your turn too,” Lan Xichen told Huaisang when his husband kept glancing toward the heroes of the day. “Your brother will come to reason, sooner or later.”

Huaisang shrugged, his expression only becoming darker at that reassurance. Lan Xichen turned to Meng Yao, who was riding with them that day. He hoped that his friend would support him and encourage Huaisang to obedience, since he was so scared of the Khan himself, but Meng Yao shook his head.

“If the Khan was to ever trust Huaisang, it would have happened already,” he said, turning to Huaisang. “If you wait for his permission, you will be an elder and you will never have killed anything fiercer than a rabbit. Of course I’m not encouraging you to put yourself in danger,” Meng Yao quickly added when Lan Xichen frowned at him. “It would be very unwise to cross him, especially when he already has so many worries, trying to get everyone safely to the winter dwellings. Still… things are what they are.”

Huaisang sighed deeply.

“I really don’t want to bother him, but also… I could have killed one of those wolves last night. I could have!”he exploded, slightly startling his horse. “If Yasheng could, then anyone might have managed. It wasn’t even that big of a wolf, probably a pup born this spring!”

“Then why didn’t you try?” Meng Yao asked. “Don’t tell me you’re really expecting your brother to notice your obedience? He never pays attention to what you do, unless it crosses him, you know that.”

Lan Xichen felt a little annoyed at Meng Yao for saying that. It was a great misunderstanding of the Khan’s character in his opinion. Of course Meng Yao couldn’t understand how much Mingjue cared about his brother, and there was bad blood between him and the Khan. Still, even before learning of Huaisang’s secret, Lan Xichen wouldn’t have accused the Khan of being uncaring. A little clumsy in handling his emotions, yes, but right from the first moment he had known that Mingjue loved his brother dearly, and wanted nothing but his happiness.

“I’m trying something,” Huaisang evasively answered. “I’m a married man now, I can’t continue acting like a child. I have to show an example for my poor, unmarried brother so that he too can see the appeal of settling down.”

Meng Yao smiled indulgently at the weak joke, but he did not appear quite convinced by that explanation. Lan Xichen then promptly asked about a mountain range in the distance, eager to change the topic. Even if Huaisang had been doing well so far at keeping himself out of trouble, Lan Xichen worried that talking too much about this would tempt him to do something stupid.

For a few days, there were no more attacks on the herd. The pack of wolves that had followed them for a while seemed to have given up on pursuing them after such heavy losses. But this didn’t mean the animals were safe: soon enough, a few people spotted a solitary male trailing them, which Lan Xichen learned was far more worrying than a pack. Wolves did not do well on their own, and so that lone male might get desperate and attack just anything it would get close to -or anyone.

Still, this wasn’t the biggest worry on everyone’s mind. It had started snowing, and that was a more urgent concern. The snow remained light so far, but it was also constant, and everyone was worried they’d struggle to reach their wintering location. Everyone also kept a close eye on children and elderly people to make sure they did not suffer too much from the cold. Lan Xichen himself had some trouble with those temperatures, and was given as warm of a deel as could be found to wear under his Han robes and help him withstand this weather he wasn’t used to.

Quite shamelessly, Nie Huaisang also kept offering to help keep him warm, a devious smile on his lips. Lan Xichen always mildly scolded him for suggesting something so improper, while his husband laughed at his reaction. Mostly, Lan Xichen was annoyed that there was even less privacy than usual as they travelled, which meant they barely managed to kiss, let alone think of other things.

Not that he wasn’t happy with the time they spent together. Lan Xichen was glad that they could ride their horses together, that Huaisang was teaching him how to help around and be an active member of the clan, that they could chat whenever there was a moment of quiet. He enjoyed all this greatly. It was just that he had the ever growing certainty he’d also enjoy being perfectly alone with Huaisang to slowly peel away every layer of clothing on his husband’s body so he could kiss every inch of warm skin and…

And that was not a train of thought he ought to have had in public, Lan Xichen had to remind himself several times every day. The time for it would come, hopefully, but the time just wasn’t now.

On one snowy morning, it was decided that the time had come for the group to divide into two, since they were approaching one of the wintering spots that the clan used. They spent most of that morning checking who was going in what direction, whether nobody would be taking something that wasn’t theirs, and how soon someone should ride between the two camps to check that everyone had managed to settle according to plan. 

While Lan Xichen was rather untouched by all this activity, it wasn’t so for Meng Yao. It had initially been decided that he would go with the other group, but at the last moment Khan Mingjue changed his mind. Meng Yao would stay where the Khan could keep an eye on him, which meant all his possessions would have to be transferred to a different cart. So far he had been sharing the cart of Wenyan, a widow with whom he got along fairly well, and whose toddler was particularly attached to him. The child cried heavy tears the entire time Meng Yao moved his possessions, but the Khan had made up his mind and wouldn’t be moved.

It really was unfair, Lan Xichen thought. Maybe once the Khan had been convinced to trust his brother a little more, they would have to work on making him do the same with poor Meng Yao. When they started moving again around noon, Lan Xichen shared that idea with Huaisang who agreed that the situation was ridiculous, and they tried to find ideas on how to make the two reconcile.

It kept them busy for a good half of the afternoon, until they had the surprise of being joined by Meng Yao who should have been very far away already.

“Wenyan says that Cunzhi is missing,” Meng Yao urgently said when they asked why he had returned. “Nobody has seen him nearly since we separated, and she was afraid he managed to escape to come see me so she rode all the way here. Someone needs to warn the Khan, but her horse is tired and I… well, I can’t,” he sighed. “I’m already going to be blamed for this, I don’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“I’ll tell him,” Huaisang immediately said, already preparing to dash ahead, but Meng Yao shook his head.

“Isn’t it better if you send Lan gongzi and come with me to look for Cunzhi? He could be just anywhere, and you’re one of the best riders of the clan. If he’s out in the wild, I’m sure you’ll be the one to find him.”

This gave Huaisang pause. His hands tightened on his reins, and he glanced at Lan Xichen, to ask for his opinion. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to go. After all, finding that child would show people that he wasn’t just lazy and pampered, while also being far less dangerous than hunting wolves or calming an ox.

“Your brother won’t be happy if you go without his permission,” Lan Xichen still said. Huaisang’s face fell at the reminder. “The child is probably just hiding on a cart. I’ll go with Meng Yao to check if he wandered off, you warn your brother and see what he thinks should be done.”

With great reluctance, Huaisang agreed and sent his horse galloping toward the front of the group. Meng Yao watched him go with an unreadable expression, before turning his own horse around to go in search of the child while Lan Xichen followed suit. They joined up with a few others to check that the child hadn't been found, then quickly separated after agreeing to meet at a certain place. Meng Yao and two others went riding in the direction the other group ought to be while Lan Xichen retraced their steps. They all thought it unlikely that Cunzhi would have been just left behind, so it seemed enough to have just one person go that way. Meng Yao had volunteered, but the Khan did not allow for him to ride alone, so Lan Xichen was picked instead. 

Just as expected, Lan Xichen reached the site where they had camped for the night without seeing a trace of the child. He could easily have turned around then, but decided instead to check carefully. Unlikely didn't mean impossible. Jumping down from Shuoyue, Lan Xichen called Cunzhi’s name until he thought he spotted something in a small bush, a touch of red hidden under the snow covered branches. It could have been nothing more than a bird, or a scrap of fabric, but Lan Xichen thought it prudent to check.

Inside the bush, he found Cunzhi.

In spite of the warm clothes he wore, the child’s face and hands were a concerning shade of purple, and it was rather obvious that he had been crying a lot. Lan Xichen didn’t lose a moment. He fell to his knees and plunged his hands into the bush to retrieve the child, not noticing the way sharp thorns were tearing at his skin and sleeves. He was only glad to be wearing some of his own clothes over the deel lended to him, since it made it easier to protect the child’s face from those same thorns.

“No!” Cunzhi weakly cried out, refusing to leave his hiding place. He struggled without much strength, sluggish from the cold. “Cunzhi want Menyao!”

“I’ll take you to Meng Yao,” Lan Xichen replied, without much effect. The child started crying again, and wriggled with all that he had, trying to escape his rescuer. “Please, Cunzhi, calm down. Meng Yao is looking for you, don’t you want to see him again?”

“Cunzhi wait here! Cunzhi is good!”

Lan Xichen sighed, and tried to get up again. It was not an easy task with the toddler fighting against his grasp, and riding Shuoyue would be even worse. The horse had a good temperament and shouldn’t get spooked by the cries of a child on his back, but if Cunzhi managed to escape Lan Xichen’s grasp and fell, he might get seriously hurt. Not only was Lan Xichen worried for the child, but more selfishly he feared the Khan’s reaction, should something of the sort happen.

Hoping to calm the toddler and buy his cooperation, Lan Xichen started looking into his clothes for a snack of some sort. “Do you want something to eat, Cunzhi?” he asked. “If you’re good, you will get a treat, and you will also see Meng Yao and your mother.”

“Mama?” Cunzhi sobbed, clumsily wiping his eyes. “Cunzhi want mama. Cunzhi want mama now!”

“Then Cunzhi comes with Xichen,” Lan Xichen said, dangling a piece of aarduul in front of the child. “You’re going to be good, right? Your mother is very worried.”

To Lan Xichen��s immense relief, the food had the intended effect. Cunzhi’s tears slowed down a little as he stared at the aarduul, making a grabbing movement. The toddler had finally started to calm down when Shuoyue decided it was its turn to become agitated. The horse whined and neighing with ever increasing alarm. When Lan Xichen turned to see what the matter was, he found himself face to face with a wolf.

If Lan Xichen had known more about wolves, he might have noticed that the animal was rather thin, as if it hadn’t eaten well for a long while, and not a particularly impressive specimen overall. But for Lan Xichen, who had been expecting wolves to be nothing but a bigger and meaner sort of dogs, the encounter was terrifying. He was unarmed, away from anyone who might have helped him, and hindered by a child who, after seeing the wolf, had just started crying again from fright.

Lan Xichen’s first impulse was to run for it and try to reach Shuoyue, but the wolf stood between him and his nervous horse. The animal looked ready to bolt away at the first excuse anyway, making that option unsafe.

The wolf growled, and stepped closer.

Overcome by terror, Lan Xichen glared at it and shushed it.

“Quiet!” he ordered in the same annoyed tone he once used on his brother when they were children and Wangji had decided to learn the guqin on his own. The wolf growled again. Lan Xichen stomped his foot and changed his hold on Cunzhi so he could wave one arm menacingly, making his long sleeve waver before him. “I said quiet! I don’t have time to deal with this, so you’d better leave me alone!”

Noticing that the wolf seemed to be following the movements of his sleeve, Lan Xichen waved his arm more menacingly.

“Go!” he shouted. “Or else we’re both going to regret it! Go! Go now!”

The wolf hesitated, snarling at Lan Xichen who continued shouting, stomping, and waving his free arm until the animal decided that this prey wouldn’t be worth the effort. It walked away, turning to check on Lan Xichen every few steps. Lan Xichen continued shouting until he figured that the wolf was far enough, at which point he ran to Shuoyue, jumped on its back, and sent it running. The horse, just as terrified as its riders, galloped for longer than was safe, until they reached the place where he was supposed to meet the others looking for Cunzhi.

Lan Xichen was the first one there, though Cunzhi and him were not alone for very long. After a little while, a group of riders joined him coming from the main group of nomad rather than those who had split off, among which were Khan Mingjue and Huaisang.

“You found him!” Huaisang said, bringing his horse closer. He looked at Shuoyue, drenched in sweat, trembling with exhaustion, and frowned. “Which did you push your horse so hard? It was not so urgent.”

“I was worried Cunshi would become sick,” Lan Xichen said, figuring there was no need to reveal his encounter with a wolf. “He seems unwell, no?”

“Cunzhi cold,” the toddler mumbled. “Was scary. Snow, and big dog.”

“Big dog?” Khan Mingjue remarked, coming close as well and taking the child from Lan Xichen. “What big dog?”

“It’s nothing,” Lan Xichen said, looking away. “We had an encounter, but nothing to worry at all. Cunzhi is safe, yes?”

Huaisang turned pale, and grabbed his husband’s wrist.

“You fought a wolf?” he asked. For a moment, Lan Xichen feared that his husband would get jealous over that chance for glory, but Huaisang’s face showed nothing but open concern. “Are you hurt? Did it bite you? Your hands are bleeding!”

“Not from the wolf,” Lan Xichen replied, a little embarrassed. “I’m fine, really. I just shouted at the wolf until it went away.”

The nomads, at first, stared at him as if he had insulted their ancestors. Before too long, Khan Mingjue burst out laughing, followed in this by the entire group except Huaisang who only looked more worried. They were all still laughing when Meng Yao and the others with him reached the meeting point. After being brought up to date on the situation, they started laughing as well, though at that point everyone was also complimenting Lan Xichen for handling that situation so well. Lan Xichen, who had just been terrified, accepted the compliments with humility, convinced he had just been lucky. If the wolf had been a little hungrier, or a little stronger, both him and Cunzhi would have been in trouble.

Later on, as they were alone in their tent and getting ready for the night, Huaisang cuddled against his husband’s side and made him give a more detailed account of the encounter. Huaisang shivered the whole time, and by the end of the story his expression was quite grim.

“You were very unlucky to have met that wolf,” he said, “but very lucky that things went so well. From now on, you need to carry a sword.”

Lan Xichen agreed. Several people had already told him the same thing, including the Khan himself.

“I guess now I understand a little better why my brother is like this,” Huaisang said. He paused a moment, pressing himself harder against Lan Xichen’s side who wrapped his arms around him. “Don’t tell Mingjue I said that. He’ll be awful if he hears I can agree with him sometimes.”

“Isn’t he always awful?” Lan Xichen teased.

“Only when he’s right,” Huaisang retorted with a pout. “Which happens far too often.”

Lan Xichen chuckled, and pulled Huaisang closer to him, until his husband was almost sitting on his lap. He’d get embarrassed in a moment when the Khan returned to their tent, but right then, as it finally hit him just how much danger he’d been in, Lan Xichen needed this too much to care about shame.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Today in Tolkien - February 14th

February 14th is the day when Gandalf returns to life on the peak of Zirak-zigil, and Frodo and Sam look in the Mirror of Galadriel in the evening.

First, Gandalf, from his account to Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli in The Two Towers:

“Naked I was sent back - for a brief time, until my task is done. And naked I lay on the mountain-top. The tower behind was crumbled into dust, the window gone; the ruined stair was choked with burned and broken stone. I was alone, forgotten, without escape upon the hard horn of the world. There I lay staring upward, while the stars wheeled over, and each day was as long as a life-age of the earth. Faint to my ears came the gathered rumour of all lands: the springing and the dying, the song and the weeping, and the slow everlasting groan of overburdened stone.”

It’s not entirely clear whether by “naked” he means “lacking physical form” - which is how the Maiar would understand nakedness - or “lacking clothes,” or both. It’s not clear why his robes wouldn’t have stayed on the mountain when he died. At any rate, I do think the latter meaning is part of it - that taking physical form again is a process that occurs over time - since when Gwaihir finds him a few days later the eagle observes that Gandalf is practically weightless.

(I apologize profusely for spoiling your Valentine’s Day with naked Gandalf? Tolkien wrote it, not me!)

Returning to the hobbits - on the evening of the 14th Frodo has a premonition that they will need to leave Lothlórien soon:

One evening Frodo and Sam were walking together in the cool twilight. Both of them felt restless again. On Frodo suddenly the shadow of parting had fallen: he knew somehow that the time was very near when he must leave Lothlórien.

Frodo and Sam discuss elves and ‘elf-magic’. Frodo wishes to see Galadriel again before they leave Lothlórien, and as if she was already aware of their conversation they see her immediately as he voices this wish.

Turning aside, she led them toward the southern slopes of the hill of Caras Galadhon, and passing through a hugh green hedge they came into an enclosed garden. No trees grew there, and it lay open to the sky. The evening star had risen and was shining with a white fire above the western woods. Down a long flight of steps the Lady went into a deep green hollow, through which ran murmuring the silver stream that issued from a fountain on the hill. At the bottom, upon a low pedestal carved like a branching tree, stood a basin of silver, wide and shallow, and beside it stood a silver ewer.

Galadriel’s ‘elf-magic’ seems to involve at least some of the same kind of sympathetic magic that Lúthien used: Lúthien’s sleep-spell that she cast on her hair also involved water drawn in a silver container at night-time. The effect of the magic is very different from Lúthien’s, though: the mirtor shows the past, the present, and future possibilities. This is in line with Galadriel’s gift of foresight (which her brother Finrod and her cousin-once-removed Idril also had).

Sam, with some prompting from Galadriel, chooses to look in the Mirror, and mentions to Frodo that he’d like “a glimpse of what’s going on at home.” Frodo looks in the Mirror after after him. I’ll try to make a list of what each of them say, with guesses about the meaning.

Sam sees:

“There was sun shining, and the branches of trees were heaving and tossing in the wind.” These are implied or outright stated to be the same trees he sees again later.

“He thought he saw Frodo with a pale face lying fast asleep under a great dark cliff. Then he seemed to see himself going along a dim passage, and climbing an endless winding stair. It came to him suddenly that he was looking urgently for something, but what it was he did not know.” This is Cirith Ungol, after Frodo has been poisoned by Shelob, and Sam searching for him in the Tower of Cirith Ungol.

The Mirror then returns to the trees, and Sam sees that the trees are near Hobbiton and Ted Sandyman is cutting them down. The Old Mill has been replaced by a new red-brick one that is putting out black smoke. And Bagshot Row, where Sam’s father lives, has been dug up and his father is leaving with all his remaining posessions in a wheelbarrow. This distresses Sam to the point where he wants to return home immediately, but Galadriel reminds him that he has no ability to do so and that the mirror does not show certain futures, but only possibilities.

In point of fact, it’s not clear whether the mirror is showing the future, the present, or the recent past in that last scene - in “The Scouring of the Shire”, Bagshot Row has been dug up and Sam’s father has been put into one of the new, low-quality houses that Lotho had his men build; and Lotho’s men came into the Shire in the late fall or early winter and imprisoned Mayor Will Whitfoot soon after New Year’s, effectively making Lotho the Shire’s dictator.

What the mirror shows Sam here is fairly simple - he is being shown a similar choice as when he first met Galadriel, between a dangerous journey (and he is shown the moment where he will become absolutely essential to the Quest’s success) and returning home to see to the well-being of others whom he loves. With difficulty, he chooses to go on.

Frodo’s vision is more complex:

“At once the Mirror cleared and he saw a twilit land. Mountains loomed dark in the distance against a pale sky. A long grey road wound back out of sight. Far away a figure came down the road, faint and small at first, but growing larger and clearer as it approached. Suddenly Frodo realized that it reminded him of Gandalf...[but] then he saw that the figure was clothed not in grey but in white, in a white that shone faintly in the dusk; and in its hand there was a white staff. The head was so bowed that he could see no face, and presently the figure turned aside round a bend in the road and went out of the Mirror’s view. Doubt came into Frodo’s mind: was this a vision of Gandalf on one of his lonely journeys long ago, or was it Saruman.” I think that here the Mirror is dealing in metaphor, and what Frodo sees is symbolic of Gandalf the White’s return from death.

“Brief and small but very vivid he caught a glimpse of Bilbo walking restlessly about his room. The table was littered with disordered papers; rain was beating on the windows.” A fairly mundane vision, showing him - like Sam - what is going on with his loved ones back home.

Then “many swift scenes that Frodo in some way knew to be parts of a great history in which he had become involved”:

“Darkness fell. The sea rose and raged in a great storm. Then he saw against the Sun, sinking blood-red into a wrack of clouds, the black outline of a tall ship with torn sails riding up out of the West.” This is the downfall of Númenor, and the ships of Elendil being preserved from its ruin.

“A wide ruver flowing through a populous city.” Osgiliath.

“A white fortress with seven towers.” Minas Tirith.

“Again a ship with black sails, but now it was morning again, and the water ripped with light, and a banner bearing the emblem of a white tree shone in the sun. A smoke as of fire and battle arose, and again the sun went dow into a burning red...” Aragorn at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields.

“...that faded into a grey mist; and into the mist a small ship passed away, twinkling with lights. It vanished.” Frodo departing from Middle-earth for Eressëa.

And lastly Frodo sees the Eye of Sauron searching for him, but Frodo knows “it could not see him unless he willed it .” Galadriel tells Frodo that she sees the sane, and that Sauron seeks to know her thoughts but cannot, whereas she can read Sauron’s mind, “or all of his mind that concerns the Elves.” She shows Frodo her ring, Nenya, the Ring of Adamant. (I always felt that Elrond should have Nenya, Ring of Water, since the Fords of Bruinen protect Rivendell and Elrond can command the waters; and Galadriel should have Vilya, the Ring of Air, since Lothlórien’s protections are something more like an aerial boundary around the entire land.)

Frodo offers Galadriel the Ring, and she (with some difficulty) refuses it. This has gotten very long, but I do still feel the need to note that when she is considering accepting the Ring, her words “Beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow Upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning!” appear to reference - as peers/comparators of the imagined Ringlord Galadriel - Manwë, Varda, Ulmo, and Aulë. The mention of Taniquetil at least is unmistakeable. The lady’s ambitions are not small. This is the moment where we see most clearly the truth of the statement that Galadriel is both similar to Fëanor in the scope of her power and ambition, and wiser than him in rejecting it.

As a Silmarillion fan, I also continue to find it meaningful that Elrond is the only one of the bearers of the Three Rings who does not appear to find the One Ring tempting at all.