#maybe it’s because I was raised around the same (non-US) mindset | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

calculated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Some people would call you far too serious. Some would call you stuck-up. And some would call you a bitch. But to freshman Jeon Jungkook, you’re the head Calculus I TA noona – and he’s determined to fuck you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, pussy spanking, fingering, m-receiving oral, doggy, dirty talk); non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin lol

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

"I think Jungkook likes you."

The lead of your mechanical pencil snapped suddenly. Stupid soft graphite. You glared at it, annoyed, and brushed the broken piece away to complete the equation.

"Who?"

"I think he's taking the afternoon class."

You double-checked the last question and handed him his homework back. "Jimin, you used the wrong equation, here and here."

Park Jimin frowned, face falling when he saw all your corrections. Being one of your parents' friends' kids, your parents and his parents naturally asked you to help him out when he entered the same university as you. You pretty much figured the likelihood of Jimin speaking to you was zero, since he was a dance major and you were a graphics design major. You shrugged and agreed.

Except you forgot you were also the head Calculus I TA and Calculus I was a required course for all students. And, turns out, Jimin wasn't that great at math. That's why you were sitting on cushions at your coffee table in your apartment with Park Jimin, watching a music program as you checked his homework.

"Oh."

Jimin began to look over your arrows and circles. You never actually gave him the answer. He usually ended up forgetting a step in the middle and thus fucked the answer. Usually he caught on easily once you pointed it out.

You stared at the television screen, listening to the latest hit. Not bad. Catchy.

"I think I should tell you because he's kind of reckless," Jimin was saying.

You placed a hand under your head and took a sip of your tea, distracted by the cute MC with the blue hair. He had a cute smile. It reminded you of a bunny.

"Who?"

"Jeon Jungkook," Jimin snapped impatiently.

You raised an eyebrow and faced Jimin. "Oi. I'm correcting your homework here. I could just correct it tomorrow and hand it back to you with red marks instead," you threatened.

He pouted at you, his full lower lip sticking out. "Sorry, noona."

You sighed. "Don't call me that. Makes me feel ancient." You turned your body so you faced him as he scowled at his homework. "Okay, okay, I'm listening now. What did you want to say?"

Jimin put his pencil down immediately and began to chat like an excited gossiping auntie. Round brown eyes getting rounder, glad for a break from his math homework. You didn't want to get him started, but he was going to nag you incessantly until you let him talk.

"I think he sits in the back?" Jimin pondered. "Dark longish hair, wears a lot of black. Looks scary when he's thinking because his eyes go really wide and he furrows his brows."

You twisted your mouth to the side and thought. You only attended the class when they had quizzes or exams because during lectures the professor didn't need your help. Mostly you remembered people by their personal scores or their handwriting, because you graded everything as the head TA. Looking at people's faces wasn't really necessary, unless you were looking for cheating.

"Can't recall. I remember his handwriting though. Not bad," you said, shrugging. "I think he's pretty highly ranked at the moment."

"I think he likes you."

You scoffed. "How did you come to that consensus?"

Jimin tapped his temple sagely. "Intuition."

"If only you used that intuition on Calculus."

He frowned at you, pouting again. You let out a puff of air, conceding.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Jimin scratched the back of his head. "Well, er... I'm just warning you."

"... Is he a serial killer or something?"

"No, no, no!" Jimin waved his hands on the air hurriedly. "He's really nice. But he can be kind of, uh... forward."

"How old is he?" you asked, glancing at the television for a moment as you took another long sip of your tea.

"Two years younger than me."

You choked.

"What?" you squeaked between coughs. Jimin hurried over and patted your back as you struggled, becoming pink in the face. "The fuck? Tell him to find someone his own age."

"I did!" Jimin whined. "But he's stubborn."

You rolled your eyes. "You're warning me that I have to break a poor freshman's heart?"

"Kind of."

You rubbed your throat. "Hmph. Darn whippersnappers these days."

Jimin smacked your arm, laughing. "I thought you weren't ancient?"

"I am now knowing some kid is fantasizing about their fucking Calculus TA."

You had said your comment sarcastically. You fully expected Jimin to make some joke, but he froze up a little. You looked over to him. He looked somewhat guilty, like a lost puppy who got caught stealing food. You sighed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, I won't chew your friend's heart out. Finish your homework, so I don't drop you off too late. You have practice in the morning, yeah?"

"Y-yeah, thanks."

Forward, huh?

An understatement.

You were sitting in one of the math department offices, laptop open, your drawing tablet in your lap, thinking. The conversation with Jimin happened about two days ago. In that time, you hadn't attended either morning or afternoon class yet, since it was only lectures. Not that it mattered, because lecture halls were massive. If this Jungkook kid sat in the back, then you probably wouldn't be able to see him anyway. At the moment, however, you were preoccupied with your assignment, to design a logo. Logo designing was difficult, especially since a school assignment didn't exactly have a real client attached to it to ask questions.

Technically these were Calculus I office hours, but who attended office hours? Nobody.

Who attended any type of calculus office hours?

Yeah, exactly.

You spent the time doing homework with the door open. You were the only TA that actually showed up for the office hours. Every other TA said it was a waste of time. It was. You still came through; in the off chance some poor kid decided her grade mattered. You felt bad since the actual professor wasn't very patient when people needed extra help. Also, technically you were the head TA, so you did have a bit more responsibility than the others.

Your black boots were perched on the desk as you sat back in your office chair, sketching a few ideas. If a member of the math department saw you, you would probably get in trouble. Thankfully, the math department was usually deserted. Math wasn't exactly the most social subject.

You took a sip of your tea from your thermos, tapping your tablet pen on your black jean-covered thigh.

"You look even better close-up, noona."

A clear, silvery, male voice cut through the silence. The voice came from the doorframe right in front of the desk. You frowned, slowly lifting your head from your tablet. How had you not heard him? Were you really that focused on your assignment?

Chucky black sneakers. Black cargo pants, slim fit. Distressed black sweater, hands casually in his pockets. Broad shoulders. Lightly tanned skin. Sharp jawline. A tiny mole under a mischievous smile. Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with those sparkling dark brown orbs. Long hair slicked back, with only a few wispy strands on his forehead.

"Calculus I question?" was your response.

His smile quirked a little higher. The young man didn't have a backpack with him. Didn't even have a piece of paper stuck under his arm. Wasn't even trying to pretend that he needed help.

"I have questions."

He didn't elaborate. You lowered your legs, placing your tablet on your laptop.

"This is Calculus I office hours. For calculus questions only."

His eyes flickered to your laptop and tablet. Back to you.

"Is this what the TAs should be doing during office hours?"

Suddenly, you could feel your pulse in your ears. Point taken.

"What do you want?"

He slid into the chair across from the desk, hands still in his pockets. Watching you carefully, still smiling thoughtfully. It should have been unnerving, but there was no malice in that smile. Maybe you were imagining it though, so you kept your guard up.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

Yeah, I guessed, you thought wryly. "And my name is on the syllabus. What do you want?"

He tilted his head at you, studying your face.

"How do you know Jimin-ssi?"

Isn't Jimin older than you, punk? "Our parents are friends."

He nodded slowly. He looked around the windowless office, at the three papers tacked to the wall – outdated notices – to the still open door, to the desk with your laptop, tablet, and backpack. Then to you, sitting back in the black office chair, eyebrow raised, hands half-in the sleeves of your gray flannel, cropped black sweater underneath.

"I think you're beautiful, noona."

Your brain winced at the compliment and your hormones looked up from the abyss. Your brain scolded them to go back to their hidey-hole. You clicked your tongue.

"I'm too old for you."

There was an ever-so-slight tick of his head. His eyes shifted downward and then flicked back up to you, almost shyly, if it wasn't for the small smirk dancing on his lips.

"We both know such a mindset is outdated."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The fuck? Your hormones peeked out again. Your brain was too distracted with trying to find a comeback to tell them to fuck off. You figured you better cut this off right now before it went too far.

"This whole conversation is inappropriate," you said evenly, standing up from the chair and rolling it back. You walked around the desk and stood in front of it, balancing your ass against it. You crossed your arms over your breasts. "You should leave."

He slowly, slowly gazed up at you. Why did he look so satisfied? Your heart did a little three beat skip. Stop it. Keep it together. Jungkook got to his feet, hands still in his pockets. Then he pulled them out and pushed his sleeves up.

Oh?

Tattoos ran up his right arm, the beginnings of a sleeve. Ink black against light tan, flexed muscle. He was not a skinny pretty boy. You were so busy staring at his arms that you barely registered him placing them casually on either side of you, face right next to yours. Now you were staring down at his broad chest, at his black distressed sweater.

"Excuse me?" you snapped testily, lifting your head to look into his smug eyes.

"I won't touch you," Jungkook murmured quietly. "Unless you ask me to."

This punk ass bitch.

You narrowed your eyes. "What makes you think I would?"

That small teasing smile came back.

"Well, for one, you haven't actually told me you have absolutely no interest yet."

Your hormones prodded you excitedly. Your brain told them to shut up. Your eyes moved to the open door behind his head, looking into the empty hall, trying to keep a balanced, even tone. It came out a little sharper than you intended.

"Door's wide open."

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Jungkook purred, breath on your cheek.

You tried not to react even though your hormones were fucking losing it. "What about you?" you shot back sharply.

You heard Jungkook chuckle. "Fuck no I'm not." Your heart jerked heading the crude word come out so daintily and casually from his lips. "I want to be seen with you. All the time. In every position."

You finally tore your eyes from the open door to give him the side-eye. "Real big words there."

Jungkook smirked. "I'm giving you a chance to tell me no. It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this desk right now and fuck your brains out."

You sucked in a breath. Accidentally. Not on purpose. There's absolutely no way Jungkook would have noticed unless he was literally right next to you. Which he was. Shit. He leaned in closer, still not actually touching you.

"You like that idea?" he breathed, the lust evident in his voice, not even trying to hide it.

"I am not some easy bitch at the club, Jungkook. This is the fucking math department," you scolded, eye-level to the base of his neck, wanting very badly to make out with it.

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply. He pulled his head back, and now you were face-to-face with those dark, dark eyes, falling, falling, your body screaming at you to do more. And still you didn’t, torn between reason and instinct.

"I'm so pissed," he growled, breath against your lips. "That the first time I hear you say my name, I wasn't watching your pretty lips form it."

Those few strands brushed against his exposed forehead, framing his furrowed brow and those intense dark brown eyes, making you breathless, telling you that you should, even though the last shreds of reason were telling you, do not, do not, do not give in to Jeon Jungkook.

"It's the middle of the damn day," you murmured.

"And you make me horny every second of every day," he groaned, so close now that his nose almost touched yours. "With your stem stare, your assertive stride, your well-spoken words, and your beautiful body that demands to be kissed, loved, fucked." He panted, shoulders shaking. "God, I want you under me so bad. You have no idea, noona."

Resolve? Hello, where are you?

You raised an eyebrow. "You think you're enough for me?"

His dark eyes gleamed.

"I know I am."

Your eyes flickered to the open door, the vacant hall, feeling Jungkook's body heat hovering so close, so close to you, and then you shifted your eyes back to him. Your brain was screaming at you and your hormones bonked your brain silent. The words at the tip of your tongue came tumbling out, nothing to hold them back anymore.

"Let's see."

And then you kissed him.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate, his large hands leaving the desk, grabbing your waist, ramming his crotch into you. You gasped against his soft lips and he slid his tongue inside, playing with yours, moaning, kissing you hungrily. His fingers pressed into you through your clothes, strong, tight, unforgiving. Your eyes flew open, surprised at his eagerness. He retreated his tongue and nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it lightly. You shivered, feeling him lift you onto the desk, pushing your legs open with his hips, grinding against you. He kissed down your chin, lifting your head impatiently, moaning against your skin. Every gentle kiss a jolt to your system, contrasting with his rough hands kneading your waist, pulling you close against his firm body, the fucking desk cutting into your thighs, eyelids fluttering.

There was movement at the door.

You froze.

Jungkook’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking sharply. You choked back a wanton moan, seeing a familiar face. A familiar, plump smile with cute, lovely eyes. He waved a small hand at you and reached for the doorknob, locking it from the inside before winking at you and closing the door silently.

Park fucking Jimin.

That bas–

Your thought was sharply cut off by Jungkook nipping at your throat, hissing as he rolled his hips into your thigh, a distinct bulge pressing into you. He yanked down the front of your sweater, sucking on the space right between your collarbones. You whimpered and shuddered, wrapping a leg around his waist and hooking him towards you, hands finally leaving your chest and grabbing his, fingers getting caught in the holes of his sweater.

“Fuck,” he growled. “I’m so fucking hard already because you’re so fucking hot.”

You caught yourself against the desk, elbow slamming onto the wood. You winced. “I haven’t done shit,” you said, surprised to feel your lips slightly swollen.

Jungkook grinned. “You don’t have to. Just you below me is enough.”

You glared at him and he bent over the desk, grabbing the back of your head, pushing your face to his, kissing you again, stealing your breath. It was the perfect mix of force and desperation, leaving you yielding, back arching as he sucked on your tongue, bobbing his head up and down slightly to pull on it. You tried not to make noise – everything was already too noisy anyway – only crying out softly when he let you go. Now you were on your elbows with Jungkook towering over you, licking his lips, the spare strands now stuck to his exposed forehead. His eyes roamed over your body before landing back on your face. You gave him your best questioning look.

He chuckled darkly. “I want to rip all your clothes off, but something tells me you will be upset with me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Because this is still the middle of the math department, let me remind you, Jungkook.” You huffed. “I don’t live here. Don’t get crazy.”

He grinned, leaning forward. “Say my name again, noona. God, let me watch your delicious lips speak my fucking name.”

You raised your eyebrows. Then you felt his hands on your jeans, undoing the button, making you jump. The zipper going down, down. He yanked at the seam, digging it into your already wet pussy, shoving your panties into your slit.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

Oh fuck. That sounded kind of pathetic.

He bit his lower lip, and yanked again.

“J-Jungkook, ah…” Your eyelids fluttered, trying to keep your strict demeanor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, firmly gripping the waistband of your jeans and pulling them down your ass, half-dragging your panties down. “You like that, noona? Do you want me to be rough with you?”

You prayed to the higher power that he would just take the damn hint and not make you say it. But Jungkook was dragging your panties back up, the thin black fabric being sucked into your folds and ass as he pulled them far too high. You gasped, trying not to look down, trying not to look at his face. But he grabbed your chin, dragging you back to him, making you open your glazed eyes, making you see his excited expression.

“Look at me, noona.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jungkook held the front of your panties and pulled, hard. You had to choke back a moan, the fabric nearly ripping, rubbing harshly against your clit. You felt the squelch of you getting wetter, hearing it clearly as he yanked at it, stimulating your clit.

“Tell me you don’t like it, noona,” Jungkook whispered hotly, letting go of your chin. “Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You spread your legs involuntarily, trying very hard not to make a fucking sound, but it was already obvious by your fists clenched against the desk, your widespread legs, and your pussy lips practically sucking your panties in, so much so that they nearly disappeared into you.

Jungkook snuck a glance down, gasping softly at your glistening pussy being tortured by your panties. He dropped to his knees and you had only one second to be confused before Jungkook’s tongue licked up your slit. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, leaving your sounds limited to muffled whimpers as he lapped at your juices, groaning into you. Your entire lower body vibrated as he teased your covered clit, smushing the fabric into your deeper, rougher. Your hips strained, trying to hump his face but only digging your panties into you harder.

You removed your hand from your face, biting on your tongue to regain some semblance of thought so you fucking talk.

“T-take it off…” you gasped. You looked down, seeing his mischievous eyes above your quivering mound, licking his lips slowly, pink tongue tracing the contours of his mouth.

Jungkook raised his hand.

Smack!

This time you had to actually shove to knuckles into your mouth and mute your squeal as pain radiated through you, your pussy stinging. He slapped you again, right on your clit, hard, making your throw your head back and nearly hit the desk, hips raising to meet him. Oh, God. He pressed his finger against your aching clit, rubbing hard, standing up to bend over you, an impossibly strong presence as he pleasured you.

“Say it, noona,” he breathed. “Tell me you like getting your pussy spanked.”

He was rubbing your clit so hard that you felt your hips raise into it, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Say it or I’ll stop,” he warned menacingly, voice so low it ripped through you.

You tore your knuckles out of your mouth. “Don’t stop, please, fuck, Jungkook, I love it when you spank my clit, fuck, please, fuck.” The words came jumbling out in a rushed, half-panicked whisper, cut off by your sharp gasp as your orgasm clawed into you. You felt Jungkook slap his free hand over your mouth, shutting off your wail as your throbbed into his hand, turning into helpless whines as he spanked your clit hard and fast, accentuating your high with waves of sudden, aching pain. You pushed his hand away, pressing your head against the desk, gasping.

“Harder, please, Jungkook, harder.”

He was staring at your fucked-out face, massaging your throbbing pussy with his palm, coating his fingers with your cum. Your voice a thin moan, hips rutting into him.

“Believe me, I want to,” he snarled. “I want to so fucking bad, noona, but we’re already loud enough and you’re making a fucking mess.”

He pulled your panties down, nearly useless at this point and roughly shoved two fingers into you. You gasped, tongue lolling out and he took the chance to put two fingers of his free hand into your mouth, rubbing your wet tongue. You could feel every joint, the calluses of his fingertips as he thrust them into you, slopping, wet sounds accompanying his movements.

“Fuck, look at you, noona, sucking in my fingers, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jungkook murmured, centimeters away from your face. “I haven’t even fucked you with my cock yet and you’re already taking me so well.”

If you could think, you probably would have a snappy response, but Jungkook was stuffing his fingers into your mouth and scissoring the others inside your pussy, driving you insane. You made eye contact with Jungkook, him and his blown-out pupils, his lips trembling as he rammed his fingers into your holes faster, harder, sliding you up the wooden desk. Something inside you snapped and you squeezed your eyes shut, your body shaking as you came again, trying to yell, but unable to because Jungkook shoved his fingers into your throat, making you almost choke if it wasn’t for your own expertise. An embarrassing amount of liquid poured down his hand and wrist, dripping down your thighs. You clamped your legs shut, burying his hand, hips jerking as the aftershocks rippled through you.

You heard Jungkook swallow loudly, jaw tight. He slowly pulled his fingers out of both holes, strings of bodily fluid following him as he did so. Your shaking knees were barely holding your lower body up, jeans constricting your calves and your upper body way too fucking hot.

You laid back on the wood, trying to catch your breath. Was it a fucking cliché? Probably. You felt Jungkook lift himself off the desk and you closed your eyes, chest heaving. Of course. He was just going to leave you like this, tearing your secret out of you and then leaving to boast about how he turned the head Calculus I TA into a helpless, submissive puddle of goo without even actually fucking you. Why did you even bother–

You suddenly felt the desk creak and snapped your eyes open to Jungkook climbing onto it, straddling your chest, unzipping his pants right in front of your face. His slicked hair was becoming unfurled now, more and more dark strands falling down around his ears. His brow furrowed, eyes so wide and focused you weren’t even sure he was actually looking at you.

“Uh–”

He reached in his black boxer briefs impatiently and pulled out his thick, leaking cock. Your eyes widened and his found yours, glittering with arousal. A smear of pre-cum grazed your cheek as he adjusted his position to push the red, bulbous tip against your lips.

“I want to fuck you, noona, but you have to clean me up,” Jungkook breathed, gently asking you but also trying to greedily push his dick into your mouth.

You could say something, but somehow you concluded you were going to be muffled anyway, so you opened your mouth, tongue snaking out and licking the head. Flat, wide, and all over, coating your tongue with his pre-cum, moaning at his taste. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip, hissing softly as he spread his legs even more, lowering himself slowly into your mouth. You licked around his cock before closing your lips and sucking, growing wet as he thrust his hips into your mouth, slow and steady, eyes closed. You reached up to hold onto his thighs, whimpering as you felt his muscular quads through his pants. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, sliding his cock in a little deeper, hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, noona, so fucking sexy, taking my cock like that,” he groaned, reaching down and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His dark hair hung down, framing his face in shadow, making your pussy throb at the image. “Makes me want to fill all your holes up, makes me want to coat you with my cum and see you covered in it, messy and dirty with me.”

You couldn’t say anything so you just whined, nails digging into his covered thighs.

“You want that?” His voice dropped several octaves again. Your skin prickled hotly with every word. “You want me to jack off all over you and leave you a mess covered with my cum?”

You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for friction, now moving your head to suck harder, rubbing the tip fiercely against the back of your throat.

“F-fuck,” he gritted out. He tapped your hand hurriedly, eyelids fluttering. “S-stop, stop.” You whimpered, sadly looking up at him. He chuckled, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

Look here you little shit, you can’t say all that dirty stuff and not expect me to be horny, your eyes were telling him.

“I know, I know,” he purred. “But I want to fuck your pussy and office hours are almost over…”

You glowered at him, but reluctantly unhinged your jaw, opening your lips. He slid out, gasping, hitting you in the chin and getting the front of your sweater wet.

“You’re a jerk,” you muttered as he climbed off you.

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, noona.”

You shook your hair and reached into your backpack, pulling out a condom, only to turn around and see Jungkook pulling one out of his back pocket.

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “You’re prepared.”

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew what I was coming for.”

A muscle in your brow twitched as he tucked his tongue in his cheek, grinning widely at you as he ripped it open and slid it on slowly, rolling it down his thick cock. His voice changed, dipping raspy and low.

“Turn around.”

Part of you wanted to fight, but then you spied the time. You rolled onto your stomach, sighing exaggeratedly as your legs tangled a bit in your jeans. You felt Jungkook’s presence behind you as he bent over your back, hand sliding over your lips and covering your mouth.

“Sigh all you want, noona,” he growled, chuckling as you shivered. “Just don’t scream when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the head press against your puffy pussy lips, pushing in forcefully, expanding your tight little hole as his cock entered you, his moan against your ear, your name dripping with lust. Both of you still mostly clothed, but his cock sliding deep, deep inside you, his teeth on your earlobe. Your walls throbbed around him, squeezing him. He gasped, jutting his hips experimentally into you. A stifled moan sneaked past his fingers, your tongue licking them lightly.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Nice and tight for me, bent over this desk.” He nipped at your ear, whispering softly as he began to fuck you. “What if someone hears you, whimpering for my cock, begging to be fucked?”

Your hands clenched into fists, eyes fluttering shut, feeling him pound you into the wood, deep and slow and far too perfect.

“Noona, what if someone sees you?” His voice like smoke, invading all your thoughts, threatening your dreams, cursing you with the feeling of his lips on your ear and his hips pounding your ass. “Proper, harsh, strict noona turning into a slut for this cock, bent over this desk and humping my hips so you can get this dick deeper inside you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and wiggled your ass against his cock. He thrust his hips harder into you, jerking you forcefully upwards, your thighs smacking against the desk. Light flickered in front of your closed eyelids and you opened them, seeing your phone screen glaring at you. A message from Jimin. Finish already! You struggled to say his name and Jungkook lifted his hand for a moment to hear your shaking breath.

“Jungkook,” you panted. “Time.”

He covered your mouth again. “You’re right,” he grunted, rolling his hips into you, biting back his moans as you clenched around him. The wet, slapping sounds became louder as he changed his angle, fucking you roughly into the table. It pushed your hips up and you clung onto the edge of the desk, moaning around his hand, tongue pressed flat against his palm as he fucked you with reckless abandon, beating a damn indent of the edge of the desk into your thighs. The dull ache was going to lead to a bruise, but you didn’t care, pushing your hips back to meet him. A choked wail vibrated in your throat as you came again, whole body lurching as he sunk his teeth into your clothed shoulder, groaning as he came inside you, cock twitching and throbbing against your walls. You felt the condom expand, matched with Jungkook’s hiss as he pumped into you. You pulsed your pussy around him and he detached his mouth, whispering your name against your ear.

“You’re dirty, noona,” he rasped, the words so breathless they made you shiver. “I love it.”

You shakily reached up and peeled his hand from your mouth, gasping as he straightened to hold the condom and pull out of you. Fuck. Oh fuck. You scrambled for your phone, seeing Jimin’s text.

You better rush outta there, noona.

You heard the wet, peeling sound of Jungkook pulling the used condom off gingerly. You turned around, hissing at Jungkook before he threw it in the trash.

“Are you crazy?” you muttered, snatching it from him. “Someone will see.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “What else do I do with it?”

You glared at him and tied it up, grabbing some tissues and wrapping it inside. Then you shoved it in your backpack, along with your laptop, your tablet, the spare condom, and reaching over the desk to unplug your laptop’s AC adaptor so you could shove that in your bag too.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy,” Jungkook marveled behind you.

“Jungkook, we have to get the fuck out of here, so pack your damn dick,” you ordered, yanking your jeans up. Squelch. You sucked in your lower lip in at the cold, uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties. You zipped your bag and checked around the desk to make sure you took everything. You grabbed your phone and shoved it in your back pocket, turning around to see Jungkook rezipping his pants. Thank God. You might have been tempted if he hadn’t listened to you. Then you remembered the two bits of condom wrapping on the floor and picked those up too, shoving them in your other pocket.

Jungkook smirked at you. “So thorough, noona.”

You scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been in this situation before, but you sure as hell have.

“Stay here for twenty seconds and then leave.”

Jungkook pouted at you. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“But I don’t even have your number.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask Jimin. You two are in cahoots anyway.” You popped your head out, looking around. No one. You popped your head back in. “Also, you owe me new panties the next time I see your smug little face, you punk,” you added, tone irate.

He smirked at you; his long dark hair wispy around his playful eyes.

You gave him one last look before you tore your eyes away, rushing through every back stairway to get the hell out of there before someone could realize you just fucked a freshman during office hours, your slopping, torn-up panties reminding you with every step that you really needed Jeon Jungkook to fuck you again.

part ii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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samwisethewitch · 5 years ago

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Why Your Spells Don’t Work

You set your intention. You had all the correct correspondences. You even timed your spell with the appropriate moon phase. And yet -- no results. What gives?

Failed spells happen to the best of us, and for a variety of reasons. But a spell gone wrong doesn’t necessarily mean that magic isn’t real or that you’re bad at witchcraft. Magic is complicated, and there are a lot of reasons it might not behave the way you want it to. Here are some of the most common causes of ineffective spells:

1. Lack of real-world follow through

Magic is meant to be used as a tool to supplement your mundane efforts -- not as a substitute for them. How can you expect your job hunting spell to bring in results if you aren’t applying for jobs?

Magic does not exist in a vacuum, and it can’t make something out of nothing. If a spell doesn’t bring you the desired result, make sure that your non-magical actions are aligned with what you are trying to manifest.

2. What you’re trying to manifest isn’t a realistic possibility

Wait, what? Isn’t magic supposed to be, well... magic? Shouldn’t you be able to ask for whatever you want and get it? Yes and no.

Magic is simply a way of directing energy. Magic can’t defy the natural laws of the universe. It can’t make something happen unless it was already a potential possibility.

If your intention is unrealistic for where you are right now, try splitting it up into a multi-step process. No spell is going to make you a billionaire overnight, but magic could help you get hired at a better paying job... and then get promoted... and then get offered a profitable side gig... etc. Starting small and working your way up is always going to produce stronger results, because you laid the foundation first.

3. Your intention was either too vague or too specific

Whether you use written petitions or spoken incantations, clearly stating your intention is an important part (maybe THE most important part) of any spell or ritual. A good intention is specific enough to get you the results you want, but open enough to let those results manifest naturally.

Let’s say you do a money spell, and your intention for the spell is simply, “I have more money.” If you find a penny on the ground the next day and pick it up, technically that is more money than you had before. A better alternative would be to use an intention like, “I have enough money to buy ___,” or “I have enough money for everything I need and want.”

Using an intention that is too specific creates the opposite problem. Let’s say you want to manifest a scholarship to a specific school. You do a candle spell with the intention, “I have been chosen for the John Smith Scholarship at Jane Doe University.” But maybe the John Smith scholarship had already been awarded by the time you did your spell. Maybe there’s another scholarship at the same school that would be a better fit for you, or maybe you’re eligible for a grant that would make tuition more affordable. A better intention for your spell would be “I have enough financial aid to easily and affordably attend Jane Doe University.”

Magic always follows the path of least resistance, so you want to make sure that your intention is specific enough to give your magic a clear direction, but open enough to allow it some flexibility.

4. Lack of focus/concentration

We all know the struggle. You’ve been planning this ritual forever, and it’s finally the full moon, but you’ve got a really full schedule today. If you hurry, you can probably squeeze it into the thirty minute window between school and work, right?

If you say a few quick words and burn some incense before you head out the door in the morning, that totally counts as a spell, right?

Not so much. Rushed, lazy, and/or half-assed spells rarely, if ever, work. Spells revolve around the raising and direction of energy, and that requires two things: a clear intention (see above) and intense focus on that intention. If you don’t have the time/energy/mental capacity to focus, it’s best to take a break, have a self care day, and come back to your spell some other time.

5. You’re subconsciously blocking your own results OR you did a spell for someone else who isn’t open to it

I decided to lump these two together, because they’re different variations of the same issue.

Whenever you are doing magic on yourself, it’s important that your mindset is aligned with your intentions. You can do love spells all day long, but if deep down you don’t believe that you’re worthy of love, that belief is going to block your spells from working. This is why mindfulness, psychology, and self care are all such important parts of a successful witchcraft practice. It’s also why I recommend doing the mental work before you sit down to ritual.

If you did a spell on yourself, or are trying to manifest something for yourself, and it just isn’t working, I highly recommend setting some time aside for journaling and meditation and asking yourself 1.) if this is really what you want, and 2.) if you truly believe that you can have it.

The whole mindset thing gets even more tricky when you’re doing magic on behalf of another person, because their energy is also at work in the situation and could be at odds with yours. For example, if you do a spell to help a friend land a job, but that friend believes that they’re totally underqualified and could never get it, they probably won’t get the job even if you did everything “right” in your spell.

This should go without saying, but it is extremely unethical to use magic to mess around in someone else’s head. Even if you think you know what’s best for them, they need to be open to it. If someone is blocking the spells you do on their behalf, all you can do is try to be supportive and find other ways to help them out.

Other (Rare) Reasons for Failed Spells

If a spell goes wrong, it will almost always be for one of the above reasons. But maybe you did everything “right” -- you did the mental work first, had a strong, realistic intention, put lots of focus into your spell, and followed through in real life -- and you still aren’t seeing results. There are a couple of other things that could be blocking your spells, but they’re very uncommon so I’m not going to talk about them in as much detail. These may be things you want to look into if you really, genuinely can’t think of any other cause.

It’s possible that another witch has done magic that cancels out or blocks yours. This is not common, and it does NOT mean that someone has cursed you. It could be as simple as two witches unknowingly casting spells with opposite intentions, which end up cancelling each other out. (For example, maybe two different people both cast a spell to get the same job. Obviously, they can’t both get that job.) This is why it’s never a bad idea to incorporate a protective element into your spells to block outside interference.

There is a very, very remote possibility that someone has placed a curse on you specifically to block your magic. However -- and I cannot stress this enough -- this is VERY uncommon. If you were cursed you would know it, or at least know that something was very wrong in your life. If you feel like you have been cursed or hexed, I recommend looking into uncrossing spells, which are specifically designed to undo negative magic.

It’s also possible that a higher power is intervening. This doesn’t necessarily have to be a deity, although it certainly could be. Most witches believe in some form of fate or destiny, and it’s possible that your spell didn’t work because what you asked for is not in alignment with your destiny. In these situations, really the only thing you can do is surrender to the bigger picture.

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bakujho · 4 years ago

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Another rant about some Shady Eels

So, back again to talk about the shady eels though this time focusing on how with the information we’ve been given we can pretty well confirm the Leech family are mafia. We’ve gotten a few solid gems of information the last little while, pretty well confirming what we always figured. Octavinelle has got that mafia theme, so everyone expected some shadiness, but the info we’ve been fed about the Leech parents really brings home that it’s not just the dorm theme, and that the twins and Azul aren’t just “cosplaying as mafia baddies for aesthetic”.

So what exactly do we KNOW?

The twins were taught self defense by their parents from a young age. (Jade voice lines)

When they were children their parents ‘associates’ would buy them luxury or rare birthday gifts...then were made to sign waivers saying that the gift had no ulterior motives and wouldn’t constitute a favour in return. (Jade birthday)

Their father has told them that appearances on land are important, and to pay close attention to the little details. (When Idia asks for further clarification, he cuts Floyd off before he goes further saying that any further and he feels like he’d be “ensnared by darkness”) (Floyd dance and wishes wish)

There were many parties back in the Leech household, but they were more formal in nature. (floyd birthday)

Eels have a “tough guy” image in the sea, and them being carnivores doesn’t help. (floyd birthday)

Mama leech worries about her babies and contacts them often (jade birthday)

That they have a family run business, that has contacts with a LOT of kinds of different people. Jade tells us it’s VERY normal. (jade birthday)

Leech parents have spoiled their kids before, so they’re likely fairly well off. (floyd birthday)

Floyd seems to have a bit of a sore spot regarding humans (floyd robes)

So obviously, without 100% confirmation, it’s impossible to say MAFIA LEECH ARE CANON, but with everything we’ve been given I’m pretty confident in saying it’s damn likely. That’s not even the fun part, cause it’s so surface level obvious considering Octavinelles theme, I decided to jump into it more. @chillableu had posted a comment in a shared discord that really got my brain whirring about WHY the mafia fam is maybe a bigger thing than just aesthetic, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Headcanon accepted, chilla. I thank you. (I took out your name in case you didn’t want anyone on discord to find you by it)

I’ll put the rest of this under a cut since it’s really just me theorizing and head canoning a whole ton of shit about the Leech fam based on humans treating fish as lesser beings incapable of the same level of emotions and intelligence as themselves, adding in bits from other media that has mermaids, mythology, and a touch of the history of the mafia.

Not even really sure where to start with this, but here we go. So, What if the Leech fam (be it great grandpa/grandma leech or current Leeches) started the mafia as a way to protect themselves due to the mistreatment of merfolk that were more “monster” like than the regular human kind mermaids we’ve only seen up until now. Its reported that the original Sicilian mafia started as a way for certain families that were facing persecution from the rest of the towns that eventually spiraled into the crime syndicates we all know from various media today. Outside of the twins and Azul, all the other merfolk that have been shown in game have been the “fully human on top, fish bottom” type, and with Azul being bullied because we was a rare 8 legged mermaid, and the magicamonsters from the Halloween event seeing merfloyd and remarking how RARE it was to see one, so I’m thinking that maybe the Leech fam started as a way to protect themselves, since if carnivorous merfolk are seen as more brutish, they may have seen a lot of discrimination from other merfolk and humans alike.

It’s no secret that Toboso has been covering a lot of heavy topics dressed up in Disney clothes, and has already addressed discrimination and fetishization with the scarabia, savanaclaw, and more recently Diasomnia boys (well, mostly Malleus in the halloween event being treated like an object). So what I’m thinking is that there’s an underlying problem in the twstverse, where non-humans are treated badly, and non-humans with monster features even more so. So the leech fam bands together with whatever other monster like merfolk families there are and create their own little area in the coral sea, and eventually expand out into other types of business until they’re in a comfortable enough position to not really worry about any backlash anymore. Floyd has shown some distaste before about being ordered around by humans, which could be an ingrained quality from his parents, or he himself may have experienced some form of mistreatment at the hands of humans before. If the leech fam has a lot of ‘associates’ I think it’s safe to say that they weren’t the only ones feeling abandoned by the normal merfolk and humans .

In Japanese folklore there are creatures called Ningyo (basically human fish), which were both feared as creatures that would bring calamity and misfortune, and prized as their flesh was supposed to be sweet tasting and grant near immortality if eaten. Mermaids in a lot of more modern media are also more nuanced than the “beautiful fish that sailors fall in love with”. Even in One Piece, there’s the mermaids that are captured and sold off to the rich as prize objects to collect and display, and the Fishmen, which are the strong brutes that are ostracised by nearly everyone in series for them simply being fish. If Toboso wanted to touch on the mythology in TWST it would make sense that the more monster-like mermaids have created their own sub-society separate from the regular merfolk. During the Halloween event, the children seem to be pretty scared by Floyd because he’s huge, so what if that’s nothing new for him and why he’s so good with kids? Cause as a mermaid they’re used to people being openly scared of them without any good reason outside of their appearance. I also suspect that Floyd and Jade have a few more siblings, since in one of Floyds home screen lines he says that he’s not the youngest nor the oldest, and tbh, eels lay thousands of eggs, so it wouldn’t be surprising that he knew how to deal with the kid without any struggle.

What if, when the eels are first hatched they’re a lot smaller than they were and like in the original article that started all of this, humans were needlessly cruel to them and many of them died out of sheer neglect, or that humans just didn’t think merfolk as capable as having acute emotions and saw them as lowly fish rather than sentient beings. We saw with the Magicamonsters that there’s a complete disregard for the feelings of Malleus when they made it a challenge to touch his horns and get a picture, so I imagine that has to extend to merfolk as well when they’re actually seen. That same mindset could have extended to the regular mermaids as well, which is why mermaids like Azul were so tormented for being different, even though they’re all fucking mermaids at the end of the day. So bringing this back to the Leech fam, they decided that they weren’t going to stand for the same level of discrimination from humans and other merfolk alike and began building their own empire. They have contacts in the sea that extend to those on land (otherwise how would the twins get the rare land items for their birthdays), and have an extensive network of associates, with the added bonus of brilliant mermaid twins, one of which is incredibly cunning, the other quick to violence and both of them raised to defend themselves should the need arise.

So basically, I’m fully on the “Mafia Leech Fam is canon for real” train and at this point it’s going to be very hard to change my mind. I feel like there were a few more things I wanted to touch on with this but they’ve poofed themselves into the depths of my mind somewhere, so I may have to come back to them later. If you have anything to add, please let me know cause brain rotting about the Leech fam is honestly one of my favourite past times right now.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst analysis #floyd leech #jade leech #twisute #twisted wonderland analysis #octavinelle #leech family #azul ashengrotto

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onionjulius · 2 years ago

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^ Yes to all this. I think the number of fans who raise a fuss when Starks (or really, any characters outside of the Dornish, which is a somewhat different kettle of fish) are depicted as white are very minimal. But the number of fans who fuss when they are drawn as not white, that feels sometimes like it's rising in number, especially those who project an insult onto it as if everyone who does it has internalized a "dark = ugly" agenda (that part is more novel; there's always been straight-up "POC? Not in my fandom" around, unfortunately). As a (not very great or prolific) fan artist who loves fan art I know all of zero people who would waste their time with that (some of us in fact are POC and like diversity, or have a habit of nibbling away at White As Default assumptions). I myself don't even think they're not white, just a darker shade of white, even Lyanna Child Woman of Surpassing Loveliness and Brandon Certified Hottie Jaime Lannister Would Totally, because that's where my mind went reading "dark where (a non-blond) was fair". IMO, and I'm fallible but I've been around for a long time, more people avoid the whole Sansa Vs. Arya black and white all-or-nothing "everything is either praise or insult" mindset, than do participate in it.

But I do want to acknowledge and appreciate that the OP did say in the notes that they don't mind people drawing characters as they see them. So many of my fan artist friends have gotten comments on their art complaining that they didn't draw the characters white enough (like look at this beautiful piece that people dared to give flack to -- Ned got a glow up as far as I'm concerned!!!) and I just can't wrap my head around that behavior.

I can't know for certain what Martin intended to be canon, but maybe we can be open to the possibility that some aspects of canon are flexible and one person's variation doesn't threaten another's. In reality it never happens that people see everything exactly the same.

The whole drawing Jon with darker skin because Bran's POV states, "Jon was Dark where Robb was fair" is stupid when you know that GRRM writes Aemon and Jocelyn as "The Pale Prince and his Dark Lady"...it is not referring to skin color at all, it refers to their hair.

#asoiaf

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Hunt (JJK x Reader) 🐾🔞💜☁️

🌸 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🌸 Genre: ABO Au!, werewolf AU!, Hybrid/Shifter Au!, Angst, smut, romance

🌸 Warnings: fighting scene, usage of guns, graphic descriptions of violence, grief and guilt, subspace, omegaspace (is that a thing it’s a thing now), Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Alpha!Jungkook!, Omega!Reader, oral (M Rec.), thigh riding, mutual masturbation in a way, non penetrative sex, praise kink, prima smut, biting, scratching, choking in a way, chokehold, manhandling, brat!Reader, handjob (m. Rec)

🌸 Summary: he was your alpha, and he’d always look after you. Even if that meant he had to hurt you.

Jungkook loves you dearly.

That much is clear to everyone who has eyes inside their sockets, with how much he fusses over you daily, always concerned about your well-being. His presence is never far away from you, and if so, he makes sure to call and text as much as possible to make sure that you're alright. It's natural really, not only as your alpha, but your mate as well.

You're just so delicate, he can't help but want to hide you from the world around him. He knows you're capable of being by yourself- he doesn't doubt that at all. It's just that he's naturally a very caring person already, and all of that had just been amplified by your bond that you now shared. He was yours, and you were his; there was no better way to describe it.

"Jungkook?" You ask, turning around as he suddenly snaps his head up from where his butt is resting against the kitchen table, deep in thought as he snaps out of them to reply with a hum. "Did you stare at my butt again?" You question accusingly, putting your hands on your hips as he can't help but smile. You try to look mad, intimidating maybe, but you're just so cute that he can't help it.

"And even if I was, what's so offending about that?" He throws back, smirk on his lips as you simply huff out a breath, turning back around as you continue to watch the cooking ramen in the pot, smell already invading his living space as his stomach groans a bit. "When can we eat?" He whines out, and you shrug your shoulders.

Jungkook likes to appear manly and strong to everyone, like he can do anything and everything, yet he sometimes acts more like an overgrown man-child. He also hates strong smells, doesn't really wear cologne but rather likes the smell of when you do his laundry (It has to be you he once stated, not because he wants to come off as sexist or anything but it always smells different when he does it, even if he measures everything the same way you do, he can't explain it either), or when he uses your bodylotion. He doesn't care much about his hair or his clothes, but he prefers oversized and soft fabrics, even though you can spot him in a button up sometimes. Jungkook can be a little difficult sometimes too- He sometimes sends out mixed signals just to get frustrated when you don't understand what he wants. He loves everything in order, but tends to leave his things all over the place too.

Long story short, living with Jungkook is never boring.

You're not so simple either, however. Its a well known fact in the pack that no one should get on your bad side when Jungkook isn't around- the alpha seemingly having tamed you whenever he was close. Because whenever he wasn't, you weren't all bark no bite- you didn't bark at all, you just went straight for the throat. Now, you weren't a bad person at all. You just were a bit more straight forward. Confidence was something you had in a healthy amount; you knew who you were, and that you were, at the end of the day, no ones slave. You didn't back down, even if it seemed pointless- and no one wanted to mess with you in all honesty. The pack loved to pick on you, when Jungkook was around, because there was nothing you could do about it. They did shit their pants though once he'd leave.

Just like now.

Jimin came up behind you, intentionally scaring you since he knew you had bad hearing on your left side, making you yelp and hit his ribs with your elbow out of reflex. "Jimin you fu-" But Jungkook cleared his throat before you could finish your sentence, teeth gritted together in a silent growl as your eyes glowed at the older pack beta, who simply grinned.

"Jimin, cut the shit. That was unnecessary, apologize." He grumbled out, as the beta simply sighed, mumbling a sorry you took with a smirk that earned you a smack on your behind. "Stop looking so smug Omega." He throws your way, sounding upset, but you knew that he didn't mean it.

"I'm feeding you all and this is how you thank me." You dramatically sigh out as you turn off the stove as soon as the food was finished, when Jungkook snaked his arms around you from behind, dipping his head down to kiss your bonding mark.

He humms. "Hm, but I thank you enough in other ways?" He says, and Jimin makes a gagging noise as he closes the fridge.

"Not in the kitchen!"

'Catch me loosers!' You send out, as your paws hit the ground underneath you, Jimin and Taehyung hot on your heels as they take on the challenge you proposed. Taehyungs form hit your back hard, sending your rolling over the grassy grounds as you snap playfully after his fur. You get a bit of the fluffy hairs into your mouth as you sneeze, making Jimin join in on teasing you as he pulls on your tail with no intention to hurt you. Jungkook however, sees that different as he rams the beta off of you, growling loudly to warn him.

'Killjoy!' Jimin snarls out at the alpha as the wolf in question runs after him after he took off running, knowing all too well how to get on the younger once's nerves. Taehyung meanwhile got thrown over by your smaller form, jaws snapping at him as he keeps his head low, squeezing his lanky form out from underneath you, running straight into Hoseok, who'd joined in on the fun. Namjoon was on his way, lazily jogging towards you with Yoongis short white form behind him, as a shot rang through the air, scaring and scattering birds out of the trees as all motion holds instantly.

Taehyung stands up as you shake your fur, instantly searching for your alpha which wasn't far away and nudged you with his large head, providing comfort as if to tell you that he was there now, there was nothing that could hurt you. Namjoon and Yoongi were still, everyone's ears on high alert as you look out for any sort of motion or giveaway from where the shot came from. This was peacefull ground; established after the great war between Humans and werewolfes, back in 1993. Hunting was illegal here, and an absolute taboo.

Yet it seems like that didn't stop anyone today.

And just as Namjoon is ready to tell them to go home, a loud yelp rings through the air, as your head throws itself back to inspect the dart in your leg, instinctively trying to pull it out without much luck. Jungkook instantly tries to help you, Jimin and Taehyung making their way towards you as well as another shot rings through the air, successfully scaring everyone as a group of black clothed and masked men dart towards them with weapons ready. You run off, Jungkooks voice clear and demanding in your head, but you can't make out the words as a second dart hits your leg, throwing you off balance as you violently fall to the ground, rolling over the branches and dead leaves as Jungkooks almost falls as well trying to stop. Theres a shot just barely missing his leg, and the only instinct your omega seems to have left is;

Get away from him. Don't let them get to him. They want us.

So you run off to the side, leading them down the tight woods as you hear them follow you. There's the sound of yelping, angry barks and violent teeth as they seem to fight off whoever was behind you. But you can't stop.

You almost fall into the pond next to you, before actually stumbling and wetting the side of your face and body, hardly making it out as you stumble and fail to gain good footing.

'Omega, stop-' Jungkooks voice rings, but you simply move around, ears close to your head as you snarl at him. He's never seen you like this; at least not directed at him, or his pack. You'r eyes are wide open, glowing with a cold yellow color yet your pupils barely leave space for the color to show through properly. Mouth wide open, as you growl at him, the hair on your back is raised in defense. You look like you want to attack, but not out of pure aggression- the way your tails was tucked underneath you, and your lowered body posture showed him what was really going on.

You were terrified.

'Omega, it's me, they're gone.' He tries again, takes a step, but you only snap at him, at Taehyung who tries to get close as well. You're not letting anyone close in this moment, and he watches with worry as the darts color your fur red with the way you'd pulled and scraped them around on your skin. He's surprised you haven't managed to break the needles off yet. The soft and sweet omega he calls his mate is absolutely out of her mind, and he knows that. His alpha inside of him begs him to discipline you, to bring you down, to help you get back and out of this mindset, but his human brain can't make the decision- because it would mean he'd have to fight you. And he knew who you where, how you'd react. You wouldn't just throw yourself down like some puppy because this was his omega; his omega, which would never back down. Not even to him. 'Please-' he tries, but Yoongi cuts him off.

'Jungkook, if you're not bringing her down I will.' He starts, and the alpha instantly turns around at that, snarling at the beta standing next to his leader, who looks determined as well. 'We can't leave her like this, you know this-' He starts again, but he's cut off as Jimin chimes into the argument.

'You can't ask that of him Yoongi! That's his mate!' He yells out, defensive posture unwavering as you cower back, ready to book it as Jungkook has to make a decision. Fast.

So he does.

He wants to cry the moment he feels his teeth break the skin of your scruff, as he desperately tries to get you down, tries to force you to submit, to calm down, but you wiggle and squirm, and twist around in his hold that he looses it for a moment. He snaps after your leg as you try again to run off, a painful shriek escaping you that cuts his own soul like paper his skin, but he has to keep you. He can't let you go, he can't loose you, he can't leave you like that. So even when you claw at his face, scratching his throat as you get your leg out from between his jaws, he doesn't let up. All his packmates can do is watch, as he bites again and again, breaking skin and exhausting you to the point where you finally let him. He's got his jaw around your throat now, barely grasping, but holding firmly as you huff out harshly, eyes still unfocused. You're absolutely out of it at this point, eyes hazy and glazed over as you finally come to a still stand.

He slowly lets off, careful and ready to go in again at any sign of more defense, but you're still.

Eerily so.

For a moment, everyone is quiet as Jungkook can't do anything but stare. The way your chest still moves proves to him that you're still alive, but at what cost? Only now does he notice the iron taste on his tongue, and he wants to throw up so badly that he starts to swallow hard. Would you be okay? Would you forgive him? Would you understand? He had to do it. He knew it, but the view in front of him made his stomach fill with guilt. Yoongi slowly comes closer, helping Namjoon to put your small body onto his back as everyone slowly makes it back. He starts to walk as well, but can't help looking back.

The grass stained with your blood, seeping into the pond close by.

He's fussing over you like a newly crowned mother of a hundred pups.

Constantly making sure your blankets are properly tucked in, moving your joints every day so that you wouldn't become stiff, and listening to the doctors advice with maximum focus. The men responsible for the attack are facing trial, and he'll have to join everyone in court today, but it doesn't matter to him as he still spends his last minutes before they drive off at your side, fully dressed in a suit, determined to get justice for what happened.

You don't move, but they have told him you'd come around soon enough- a friend, Jin, will take care of you for him while he's gone. He can't do anything but look at you breathe, as he still sees you as the most precious and most beautiful thing in the world. A knock on the door snaps him out of it, as Jin stands, a small smile on his lips. "They're waiting." He simply says, and Jungkook nods, slowly standing up after kissing your forehead. "I'll keep an eye on her." Jin says as Jungkook walks past him, ready to go downstairs.

The rest of them are waiting downstairs already, as they slowly get into the cars, driving to the next fight.

But this time, they'll fight without teeth.

Two days later, Jungkook is sitting at your bedside again- or more like, sitting at your feet, spooning rice from his bowl into his mouth without much interest as his eyes stay unfocused. It's been like that the day before as well- He'd eat with you, take a nap, shower, take another nap, eat dinner, and fall asleep for the night. He's barely truly sleeping though, every small crack outside waking him immediately, the past still haunting him whenever he tried to rest. He can't imagine what would happen to him if you were to stay like this- or maybe even worse. He'd thought about it, several times, but he always chokes up, always immediately tears up at the mere possibility of you not spending your life with him. This was so unfair.

He sighs as he gets up, feet hitting the cold laminated flooring as he doesn't bat an eyelash at the temperature biting into his soles. He simply shuffles towards the bathroom like a puppet, simply tending to his bodies need to relief itself, as he doesn't notice the way your eyes move behind your lids.

And as you open them, its dark.

Not quite, as the opened window lets the moonlight in quite nicely, drowning the room in a silver light, your eyes adjusting comfortably. The air was fresh, crisp and cold, while your body was cozy underneath the covers. It was just perfect, just how you and Jungkook always liked it- the fresh and cool temperature of the room giving you a reason to cuddle closer, hold each other tighter. You stretched your legs, hissing as a cramp bites at your legs, but it soon settles, after a few seconds. Sitting up, you feel like a headache is close- the pain present but bearable, as if you'd taken a nap for too long. Your eyes burn a little, and you can feel some bandages underneath your clothes, making you wonder what had happened.

And then it hit you.

From the moment of the shot, to the way Jungkooks cries echoed in your head, his pleas and apologies over and over, as you try to process everything. At least you haven't hurt him, you thought to yourself.

You notice him as he stops at the door with a gasp, eyes wide open and lips apart, as they slowly come to terms that you're actually awake. He tilts his head downwards, before he slowly closes the door, walking towards you as he lets himself fall to his knees, a sob escaping him as he throws his head onto your lap. He's vulnerable, but oh so happy at the same time to know that you're gonna be fine. You're up, you're conscious, you're back- and he's too overwhelmed with that reality to keep his composure.

So he cries, violent sobs shaking his shoulders as he holds onto the blankets for dear life, state only worsening as you run your delicate fingers through his locks. He slowly looks up at the touch, searching for any hint of fear, any form of anger or betrayal sent towards him for hurting you like that, but he only finds your warm smile, comforting eyes filled with love, and his tears roll down his cheeks as you take his head into your hands. You don't say anything because there's nothing needed to; and he simply leans into your touch like it's the first time he's ever received such a kind gesture. There's no alpha in him in that moment, no strong Jungkook who's confident and overachieving. No, in fact he looks so young that your motherly instincts shout at you to comfort him, to soothe his cries and dry his tears. Whatever pain he's feeling, you're craving to take it away.

But when the door opens again, after Jimin and Taehyung push too much against the wood, he snaps his head back around to look at them. "Never seen the kid cry that much." Yoongi scoffs with a playful but genuinely happy smile, as the rest snickers- you along. And even though he loves the sound that leaves your lips, he suddenly begins to pout, before shifting. His large wolf form curls up at the end of your feet, and you whine, getting no reaction from you but a tilt of his ear that signals he's still having your attention.

"No, kookie, come here." You whine pitifully, and it takes a moment, before he shuffles closer to you, laying his large body next to you as he somehow still lets only his back face you. "Are you mad?" You ask, and he simply huffs in embarrassment, and you laugh, as the pack leaves you alone, glad to know you were back again. "That's okay." You humm, cuddling his large body as you fall back asleep.

It's late when you both return from your dinner with his pack, the now shared apartment you both got yourselves feeling cozy to you, since it held both of your scents perfectly aligned. It was your safe haven, a place you could both be yourselves as much as you wanted to, without any interference of the world. Surely, it was a bit weird and it needed time to get used to, but you both eventually made it work.

"Do you think we should lay carpet in the living room?" You casually ask as you take off your jacket, while Jungkook slips out of his shoes.

"Hm." He hums, before he takes a look at the living room area. "Maybe? Would that be better?" He asks, and you lean your head to the side, now out of your shoes as well as you walk towards the open kitchen.

"Maybe. I mean I like soft carpets, and because the sun shines in through the windows I thought it would be nice to have a soft floor to lay on for a nap or something." You casually explain. Jungkooks heart swells as he walks after you, holding your body from behind as he walks like a penguin to your destination, making you giggle. "What now?" You ask, and he simply nuzzles into your neck.

"Nothing." He replies with a grin. "It's just nice hearing you talk about things like that." He explains, running his pointy canines over your shoulder where he'd exposed the skin by pulling on your sweater sleeve. "My omega want's to make our home cozy. I like that." He humms against your pulse point. "Always so caring. So thoughtful, so sweet, my sweet baby." He almost dreamily cooes, as you suddenly try to wriggle out of his grasp. He catches on quickly, holding you tighter so you can't escape as he chuckles at your struggle. "Where you going baby?" He asks with amusement, as you huff.

"Nowhere because you're- ngh- you're yah!" You bark out, and his eyes grow more daring as he notices your behavior. You don't truly want to get away from him, as your body language tells him an entirely different story of what you're trying to bring across. Its a facade- even as you nip at his arm, biting the skin without hurting him as you kick your legs now, and he growls lowly.

"My baby's being a brat now?" He rumbles out, and you scoff again, trying to catch him off guard by hitting your head backwards, trying to push him away, but he only chuckles, one hand holding your body against him while the other moves higher to your throat now, holding your head tilted backwards against his shoulder. "Hm.. I actually wanted to watch a movie, but I think I'll have a different form of entertainment tonight." He says, as his hand tightens, not to choke, but to restrain, as he slowly sits down with you, forcing you with him on the floor as his hand lets your upper body loose, immediately grasping your wrists in his hand, while still holding your neck. You struggle for a good while, and he waits, until your eyes meet.

He can see the golden color of them, warm and hazy as they swim with pure emotions. You're finally submitting, your headspace blurring your thoughts as you become limp, making him smile at you. Once you're free, you turn around immediately, ready to go for his pants as he stands up, holding your neck as you obediently follow him to the bedroom, imaginary tail wagging in excitement on what's to come. "Look at you my baby." He sings out, voice low and soft as he addresses your kneeling form in front of him, hands on his thigh as your chin lays atop of it, closing your eyes when he runs his palm over your head. "Such a sweet little darling I have there." He opens his fly, shedding his pants as he throws the button up over his head, letting his erection free after his underwear is discarded as well. You quickly follow him, shedding your own layers of clothing as you sit in front of him, waiting, as he holds his hands out. You instantly shuffle forwards, nosing at his cock as he hisses at the contact, carefully guiding his length into your mouth as you close your eyes, tongue gliding over the salty skin in sinful patterns that make him groan out in pleasure. He lets his head fall back as his hand stays in your hair, muscles tightening and relaxing at the way you stimulate his nerves and senses, the room filling with your scent as he thinks he's on could nine.

He pulls your head away from him, making you gasp out as his eyes focus on the obscene strand of saliva still connecting your lips to his tip. He guides you upwards to sit on his muscular thigh, your hands holding onto his shoulders as he helps your hips move, gaze never leaving your form as you breathe heavily in pleasure. "Such a good girl." He praises, and you mewl in fondness at the praise, making him grin at you, his length throbbing from the view he has. "So good, look at you, getting yourself off on me." He continues, pushing you down harder and forcing you to faster as your breasts start to sway enticingly in front of him. "Hm? Use me darling, I'm all yours." He cooes, eyes hooded as he watches you fall apart, furrowing your brows as you concentrate on the pleasure. He suddenly hisses out when your hand moves away from his shoulder, suddenly finding his leaking cock as your soft hand wraps itself around it, desperate to give him pleasure back as well. He groans, and you let your forehead fall onto your hand on his shoulder as he growls deeply, the entire situation too much for him as his fingernails scratch down your back, making you arch it as he leaves hot marks on his way down, gripping a handful of your butt in his palm, as you bite down on his neck. It's the sound of wet skin running over skin, your hand jacking him off, groans and whimpers from you and him, and it's stuffy as the air around you takes on more and more of your smell, but its so perfect.

You whine and gasp as you finally come undone, desperately running your fingers over the skin of his length as you make sure to give it attention as well, smiling as you feel his hips trust into the air, muscles contracting as he spurts his cum onto your hand, groaning out a long sound as he lets himself fall backwards onto the bed. He breathes heavily as he holds you close to him, you bodies sweaty and spent, but happy and content none the less.

Jungkook loves you dearly.

That much is evident to anyone who has eyes inside their sockets.

It could be just how well you fit into his life, how perfectly you align with his pack, or how you care for him in a way only you could. With you, he feels safe, comforted, home- he doesn't need walls and a roof to feel like he's in his own safe haven.

"Jungkooks coming!" Jimin shouts in victory, making you turn around with wide eyes as you spot him walk into the living room. You sneeze as he walks past you, sitting down next to you as he slaps Jimins hands reaching for your snacks with a challenging gaze. The older beta pouts, but doesn't argue as he leans back, watching with amusement as you cuddle up to Jungkooks side, almost crawling onto his lap as he puts an arm around your middle "Heh, big bad omega is all cuddly" Jimin challenges as you get ready to throw the pillow closest at him, but Jungkooks palm takes it out of your hand, diffusing the situation as the beta across from you snickers in triumph. Jungkook however smirks, yawning innocently as he suddenly gets up.

"Oh, I think I've forgotten something in the kitchen." He casually says, getting up to leave you two be as you grin dangerously, while Jimin begins to sweat nervously at the mere prospect of being alone with you.

"A-actually It's late, I should probably leave!"

And both, Jungkook and you, laugh.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #abo dynamics #alpha jungkook #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omega reader

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dimonds456 · 4 years ago

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Okay, listen:

You know what? I am going to say this right here, right now. People aren’t reading the tags I write on things I reblog, and I am clearing the air.

I WISH DEATH ON NO ONE.

NO ONE deserves to die because of something their group or circle is doing. NO ONE deserves to die because they said something racist, transphobic, aphobic, ableist, ect. NO ONE deserves to die because of another death related to them, on purpose or otherwise. NO ONE deserves to die because they have some kind of mental illness, or they’re struggling emotionally/physically. NO ONE deserves to die because of the way they were raised.

Yes, people do bad things. THAT DOES NOT MEAN IT’S SUDDENLY OKAY TO TAKE MORE LIFE. All you’re doing is brewing more violence. There are other punishments for all offenses, and the chance to let these people see that what they did was wrong.

Am I saying to forgive people who do terrible things? NO. It’s up to you if you want to forgive anyone for things like that.

It’s not your place to play with people’s lives and lifespans like that. A lot of the time, isn’t that why you’re mad at the person in the first place? Because they took a life?

I am NOT an apologist. I am NOT forgiving people who do bad things. I am NOT defending people from consequence. What I am doing is putting my foot down. Death isn’t a good punishment, EVER. You can’t learn if you’re dead. You can’t see the ignorance you held onto if you’re dead. You can’t pull your life together because you wouldn’t have one anymore.

I get it. Some actions are inexcusable. I am going to stop being general and specify that I’m referring specifically to the whole “kill the cops” thing going around right now. YOUR PROFESSION DOES NOT DETERMINE WHETHER YOU ARE GOOD OR BAD. Just because someone is a cop, why does that automatically make them a bad person?

To everyone who knows me: I wanted to be a cop for the longest time when I was little. They were so cool and caring to us. I live in a rural area, and not a diverse one either, but my point is the same. If I decided to become a cop, does that make me bad? Or am I just trying to pursue a career that seemed healthy? Helpful? Protecting people, stopping bad guys- that’s what cops are to me. Yes, that can be abused, and as we’re seeing now, IT IS. But that doesn’t make all cops bad.

If you decided to become a police officer right now, are you suddenly a bad person?

By wishing death on someone, okay. I get it. That person did some really messed-up things. I don’t agree with you- I wish death on no one- but I’m not going to argue unless I seriously think they don’t deserve it. However,

WISHING DEATH ON AN ENTIRE GROUP BECAUSE OF THE ACTIONS OF A SELECT FEW INDIVIDUALS IS CHILDISH, IGNORANT, AND IGNORING A HUGE CHUNK OF THE PROBLEM. YOU ARE CREATING MORE ISSUES BY DOING THIS.

If you have a problem with what I am saying here, please leave my blog. I WISH DEATH ON NO ONE, and I certainly don’t believe an ENTIRE GROUP should be killed off because of the horrible actions of a select few. You know who else has those mindsets? Genocidal people. WHICH IS AN INTERNATIONAL WAR CRIME. FOR A REASON.

To any cop reading this that is just trying to get by: thank you. Thank you for trying to keep this world safe. Your peers are making you look bad just by deciding to pursue this career, and I hope it gets better. This blog is a safe space for you.

If you are a cop reading this who has done any of those racist things, like arresting black children for petty crimes or automatically assuming violence when dealing with a non-white person, this blog is NOT for you. People are people, and that’s final. Treat everyone with equal respect and fairness, don’t be an asshole, and I hope you can understand why your actions are wrong one day, before it’s too late. I hope you can maybe one day rise up and stand with us to stop racism, and these violent acts on the street for the smallest things that while people wouldn’t even need to get out of their cars for. Until then, leave this blog and don’t come back until you understand- well and truly- what I’ve said here today.

Black children shouldn’t have to be taught to fear cops. They shouldn’t have to be arrested for being suspected of theft with no evidence, then getting screwed over because of it. Black adults shouldn’t have to deal with obeying every law to the letter 24/7 all the time, because even the slightest tiny error may result in their deaths. That shit needs to stop. But it doesn’t end with police officer’s deaths; it ends when the bad cops get their badges taken away forever, and good people replace them. That way, we can arrest the bad people, as it was supposed to be from the very beginning.

I WISH DEATH ON NO ONE. If you can’t agree with this simple statement, get off my blog.

#this goes for any group of people too not just cops #like that 'eat the rich' thing #yes MOST billionaires are bad adn I'm not arguing that #but I don't want them to die #dimond speaks #tw cops #tw police #tw death mention #important

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grimoire2020aa · 4 years ago

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Why your spells don’t work

You set your intention. You had all the correct correspondences. You even timed your spell with the appropriate moon phase. And yet -- no results. What gives?

1. Lack of real-world follow through

2. What you’re trying to manifest isn’t a realistic possibility

Wait, what? Isn’t magic supposed to be, well... magic? Shouldn’t you be able to ask for whatever you want and get it? Yes and no.

Magic is simply a way of directing energy. Magic can’t defy the natural laws of the universe. It can’t make something happen unless it was already a potential possibility.

3. Your intention was either too vague or too specific

Magic always follows the path of least resistance, so you want to make sure that your intention is specific enough to give your magic a clear direction, but open enough to allow it some flexibility.

4. Lack of focus/concentration

If you say a few quick words and burn some incense before you head out the door in the morning, that totally counts as a spell, right?

5. You’re subconsciously blocking your own results OR you did a spell for someone else who isn’t open to it

I decided to lump these two together, because they’re different variations of the same issue.

Other (Rare) Reasons for Failed Spells

#witch tips #witchery #witch #witchblr #useful #spellwork #spell

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thorne1435 · 2 years ago

Note

Okay there's gonna be some explicit transphobia and misogyny in this part so I'm putting the whole thing behind a read-more.

If you are a trans person who is not comfortable with your appearance in public or don't feel you pass sufficiently, I highly recommend you just don't read this because it's gonna stick in your head and you'll be miserable.

If you're a cis person, though, maybe you should give the last few paragraphs a once-over.

I worry about transmascs like this anon in particular in the same way that I worry about women in stem when those women are trans.

I really think that the pressure is so much more intense for trans people who didn't lose the masculine or feminine interests that they were raised into because of these patriarchal ideas of what's "wrong" for men to be interested in and what's "wrong" (or if you're lucky "daring") for women to be interested in.

Growing up, I heard over and over again that females were just predestined to maternal, nurturing lifestyles because that's how their brains were. I was taught that it was just a genetic predestination. And I feel like a person operating within that mindset is going to double down on it if they clock a transmasc in a female-dominated field. They're just going to decide that "They Can't Escape Their Ovarian Disposition Towards Healthcare And Motherhood" and, like, I feel like that'll manifest itself via pity (the TERF standard of "Look At Our Poor Misguided Sister") or, like, support...but shitty support, y'know? The kind of "support" where they say, like, "You're living your truth and I find that so brave." but all the while they just document the fact that you're doing a thing that "Women Are Supposed To Do" and assume that it really is biological.

I've heard no anecdotes about that kind of scenario, but when was the last time you heard anything about transmasc experiences? There's so little publicity around trans men in general that I find this kind of anxiety plausible by the simple fact that I haven't been told it doesn't happen. So better to accept that it might so you don't get caught off-guard, I say.

On the transfem side, this is weaponized against us all the time. If you're not perfectly lady-like and feminine in all your mannerisms, you're not going to be seen as a woman, you're going to be seen as a desperate poser. And...that's rough. Because when you're raised to act in a certain way by society constantly barraging you with subtle standards about what both binary genders should be, you're not just going to drop it as soon as you decide you're not what they thought you were. That's years of conditioning, and it's really fucking hard to break it all.

Cis people probably don't realize this: trans people are expected to change almost every fundamental block of our personality, or at least how we instinctually express it. Like, obviously we change things like our fashion sense, but we also need to relearn our body language, our vocal mannerisms, even our fucking vocabulary can be used as a reason why we're faking it. (like for example the fact that i swear so much. thats considered masculine, did you know that? because i do. they never shut up about it.) We change how we fucking walk. Because if transmascs femme-strut or transfems man-walk it's a whole fucking issue.

And obviously this perspective is very assimilationist, and there are many trans people of many identities who just decide that they're going to stay the way they are, just slightly the left or right on the spectrum. And I think those are the people who are going to be hurt by these stereotypes.

It's good to be Gender Non-Conforming, in my opinion, because it makes your passive existence into a positive statement of defiance. But if you do that as a trans person you have to do it knowing that you'll receive more transphobia because of it.

Trans people are just fundamentally not allowed to be trendsetters or trailblazers. If we are not perfectly generic women and men, we're perverts or we're doing it for attention or we'll just grow out of it or some such bullshit that only exists to justify cis people closing their eyes until we go away.

This became more of an angry rant than anything, but just be careful, is what I'm saying. Defying the gender roles is the good fight, but it's a fuckin' hard fight.

I’m so late to the gender party but I really thank you for hitting the “gender equality is letting women be breadwinners AND men be home makers” nail on the head. I’m so glad always more women are going into STEM and traditionally masculine positions and I am all for continuing that progress, but by the same token, I am a man going into nursing and my entire class is female except for me. The stigma of men going into traditionally feminine jobs is HUGE - think about male kindergarten and daycare teachers, nannies, nurses, cleaners, etc. Just anecdotally, I’ve been told by several male nurses to be prepared to be the one expected to handle violent patients (I’m a 5’3” trans man so uh. I am sorry to say I am as or less qualified than my peers in that regard), and I’ve also been told to expect patients asking for a female nurse instead - none of my classmates have been told to expect someone asking for a male nurse. It’s just really frustrating and discouraging that there is a lot of lip service paid toward this sort of thing, but people still ridicule and demonize the men who want to work in these jobs :(

I was focusing on the househusband angle, but you're right about this needing a lot of work too.

I think that something being designated as "not-menswork" kinda means that it's necessarily being designated as "womenswork" and that's...not great. Especially since it looks like all the "not-menswork" jobs are jobs that require compassionate approaches and emotional maturity that we don't trust men to have.

And I think that's not even exclusively misandristic, either, because when you really think about it, what message is this sending to women, as well? "Yes, queen! Go leave the house! You don't have to take care of your family. Go be a teacher or a nurse or daycare worker or a maid so you can take care of other people's families!" Maybe I'm reading too much into it but it certainly seems to stem from the idea that women are just predisposed towards childcare and nurturing. And since men are just not allowed to be what women are ever, they logically must be predisposed away from childcare and nurturing.

#trans issues #transphobia #transfem #transmasc #transgender #Yeah I know this doesn't cover androgynous-anyone #It's safe to assume that any transphobia that could be used to invalidate more binary-conforming trans people could be used on an enby tho

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thewritingstar · 4 years ago

Text

More Than You Think

Pairing: Butchercup/ Greens (Buttercup x Butch)

Fandom: PPG

This was a commission/gift for the amazing @over-under-through1 who trusted me enough to write her some greens.

The dynamic is much softer for greens than i usually write because we love soft butch. This is just a journey of Butch realizing that he is in fact dumb and fancies a light green puff :)

----

Butch: Age 12

Of course Boomer would trip the alarm, he always did. Butch grumbled as he herd the familiar buzz of the bank alarm going off. They weren’t supposed to get caught, well he was the only one here anyways. Boomer was in the back room messing around with the safe and oops, now that loud ass sound is piercing through his head. Brick’s gonna be pissed.

They hadn’t robbed a store in months, kept more on the down low as they got older but even pesky twelve year olds need money and food and hey, Butch liked to have a good time. He would have preferred blowing some shit up instead but Brick’s bitching wasn’t something he wanted to challenge this late at night.

“Make that thing shut up!” Butch growled towards the back where Boomer had shouted “I’m trying damnit!”

But it didn’t matter, it never did. You could have all the fun in the world but it would be ruined no matter how good you were at your job. Eventually all the fun would come to an end.

He could hear it. Like noticing a fly when having dinner. The slight buzz of its wings, that's what it was like. The siren cut off and soon he could hear it crystal clear. He had it memorized by now. Their flying patterns and how each of them landed was its own noise. He bit back a snarl, barely tasting blood as they touched down on the ground. Fuck.

He turned on his foot with a slouch in his hip and a roll of the eyes as they stood before him.

“Buzz kills” He mumbled and locked eyes with the three super heroines.

They stood tall and proud as always. The princesses of the kingdom were here to rescue it once again, it was just a measly break in. Did they have to deal with every single small inconvenience. Guess the cops were no help but he’d rather get in a punch with someone who could handle it then in a pair of handcuffs.

He stared them down. First was the leader. Blossom or he liked to call Pinky because, well he didn’t need to explain himself. Next was Goldilocks whose voice was like nails on a chalkboard to him. Cute but annoying, no wonder Boomer was her counterpart.

And then there was her. She had a deep scowl and hooded eyes as if she had just woken up. Which would make sense as the moon was high in the sky and the only lights were the ones in the broken building. Buttercup was the only one who ever caught his eye.

“Alright just drop whatever you have and make this a clean deal.” Pinky spoke. It was startling how similar she was to his older brother, by like thirty seconds, she had that same cold stare but the baby doll pink eyes really didn’t add much fear.

“Not holding anything dumb ass.” He spat at her and held his palms open. He watched her visually straighten her shoulders from the insult and Goldilocks scoffed and yet the girl who rivaled him just had an icy glare.

Unlike her sisters, she was the only one he could tolerate, if anything. She had a killer kick and plummeting punch but she matched him in wit and snarky comments. Deep down he enjoyed whenever they got to have a full on thrashing but right now, he wasn’t in the mood and clearly, she wasn’t either.

“Got the alarm to-shit!” Boomers eyes widened as he stumbled out of the back and he wished he could have just punched him in the face for being so careless.

He watched as Pinky glanced around. The only broken item was the lock on the door and nothing had been stolen either. It should have been but blue eyes had to fuck it up. His knuckles cracked within his fists, the loud noise echoing through the untouched bank.

“Look.” Blossom started. “You broke in, disbanded the alarm and there's no way you can steal anything now, so I suggest just taking whatever dignity you have left and just walk away. Maybe next time you can do something worth our time.” She finished.

“Worth your time.” He heard Boomer mutter under his breath. A low blow for sure.

She might have been ‘everything nice’ but over time her words had taken to the spice side.

If Brick were here he probably would have gotten into her face and a brawl would have started. But he wasn’t and that pissed him off. He didn’t even care about the money any more. He had a headache and wanted to sleep and if Brick really wanted this shit, he could come down and bust it out himself.

He turned on his heel to Boomer who just raised his brow. He nodded towards the door and they both decided that a full on fight wasn’t what they wanted to do. After all it's been a couple of years since they had one and getting his ass kicked by a girl when they were outnumbered really wasn’t on his to do list. They would easily take dumber than the dumbest down in a flash and his ass would be a full buffet. 1 against 3 wasn’t on the agenda.

Butch scoffed and began to walked towards the door but stopped in front of the girls. Blossom narrowed her eyes and he saw the flash of pink within her palms.

“Relax doll, we are leaving. Boomer, get going.” He scoffed at his little brother, by twenty seconds, for making goo goo eyes at Goldilocks. He didn’t miss the small smile she was trying to hide and just rolled his eyes at them. Pathetic.

Butch passed Blossom and stopped at his own counter part. The neon green eyes seemed to glow slightly under the dim light and they wore matching expressions that held unamusement. She only blinked and raised her eyebrows.

“We don’t have all night Butch.” She spoke and he rolled his shoulders back before pushing past her. “Get your sorry ass out of here before I beat it.”

He flashed her a smirk before gripping the collar of his brother’s shirt and pushing him forward to leave. “Kinky.” He winked at her before they took to the skies and he let out a laugh as he could hear her frazzled complaint from below.

Butch: Age 13

There was something comical about him entering the school gates for the first time in his life. After Mojo Jojo was thrown in the slammer, again and again, the boys' custody shifted towards Ms. Bellum who decided to take on the challenge of three thirteen year old boys who had the mindset of destruction.

“This is all yours.” Ms. Bellum gestured to the nice apartments. Each of the boys got their own room, a kitchen, a living room and loft space. There was even a room that was dedicated for use of their powers. She had said something about the powerpuff brats having something similar so if they ever got the urge to blast lasers, it would be down there.

It wasn’t too bad after all. Butch finally had his own room and didn’t have to worry about Bricks loud ass snoring or Boomer waking up at the crack of dawn for some unholy reason. His temper had died down slightly and the urge to steal really wasn’t there. Mostly because food was provided and the new mom actually cared about him.

She was sweet and sassy and even when his fist sparked an electric green, she simply placed her hand over it and told him to stop. The boys then worshiped her. What kind of non-super does that? One worth respecting of course.

He also found it funny that dear old dad Him was upset but after a talk about child support and schooling, the boys were left to the brain of the city. So much for wanting custody.

“You should make some friends Butch.” Bellum said to him as she fixed his hair and finished zipping up their bags.

Boomer had already attached his hip to the Goldilocks and Brick had found Princess annoying ass tolerable, how? He would never know.

He grumbled before taking his bag. “Sure.” Maybe the lady was right, after all it would be lame to only hang out with his bros.

The limo was kinda cool, he wouldn’t lie. Being dropped off in front of everyone with a car worth more than these kids parents salaries always puts a skip in his step. Plus she wanted to make sure that they actually made it to school. When his feet touched on school property, she was gone.

His brothers ditched him in a flash. Boomer was now deep inside the school probably trying to talk his way into the blondes heart and Brick was most likely rolling his eyes at Princess while not so secretly looking for his redhead counterpart. As for him. He didn’t do too well socially.

He was much more of a homebody and tended to keep to himself. A social outcast like him didn’t need to be disappointed when fake ass people turned their back on him. Maybe people who did bad things were more his type but when you went to school with the Puffs, he imagined no one really did anything bad.

Mama did tell him to make friends. The only person who came to mind made him scowl but he did need a good laugh, and someone who could take the heat. He had about twenty minutes until the annoying bell rang so he followed the path of the school grounds towards the back.

From a distance he saw her sitting alone at a table outside. There were books and papers laid out and he never pegged her for the studious type. Why was he nervous? It wasn’t like it was a secret that they had joined the school but he hadn’t had a run in with any of the girls, unlike his brothers.

His fist held a death grip on his backpack strap as he walked towards her. His mind yelled at him to turn around and go the other direction, maybe befriend the group of boys who always ditched class to smoke behind the school. Those were his people in the long run and mama would probably be proud. The rule breakers, the ones without a care in the world so why in the hell was he going towards a girl who probably hated his guts and wanted his ass in jail.

He stood in front of her table and when she didn’t notice he finally spoke up.

“Sup.” He said casually and she lifted her head.

Her face was slightly scrunched as she looked around and then focused back on him. “Uhh...Hi?” She narrowed her eyes at him. Typical. But not in the “why am i awake at 1 am to deal with your ass”. More like “why are you talking to me?” Kinda way.

He didn’t wait for her to protest him being there so he threw his shit on the table and sat down. “This place is pretty lame.”

She gave him a blank expression before returning to her stuff. “Yeah I guess.”

He eyed the books on the table. Chemistry. “What are you? A nerd now?” He picked it up and flipped through the page. There were tons of sticky notes coming from all directions and more highlighter than what seemed as necessary.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes before flipping to a fresh page in her notebook. “It's called homework and chemistry is pretty cool.”

“Doubt it.”

“Well you do need an IQ over 5 to understand it, so you probably wouldn’t enjoy it.” She smirked as she stuck the end of the pencil to the corner of her mouth.

He didn’t know why he laughed as well. Usually a taunt like that ended with a fist in the face and a smash to a wall, but for once, he just laughed and threaded his fingers through his hair.

“Whatever.” And she laughed too.

There was something almost supernatural about seeing her in such a mundane place. He only knew her in the skies, fist clenched and dirt smeared on her face. Hair going crazy as her green streak followed her and the hard hit of her power. Eyes glowing with an insane amount of rage but here it was different.

There was no yelling or screaming. Maybe a glare here and there but she was...normal? She wasn’t all powerful and mighty to the eye. Instead it was a calm and cool energy. Someone who was busy with school work not monster fights and demons.

“So what do you do for fun in this dumb?” He took a book and flipped through its pages. Too many words, eh.

Her eyes were back on her book as she jotted down something. “Eh not much. Sports and just hang out with people who aren’t lame”

“Like your sisters?” He teased and she snorted.

“Yup” She popped the ‘p’. “Mostly friends my teams or Mitch the boys.”

Mitch and the boys. For some reason he couldn’t understand, hearing that his best friends were boys and put him in an odd place.

“They must be cool.”

“Oh we are.” He heard a voice come from behind and soon the table had two extra members. “Names Mike.” The first dude outstretched his hand towards him with a smile.

“Careful you don’t know where those hands have been.” Buttercup said and Butch shot her a glare before accepting the handshake, the first one he ever did.

He glazed at the other dude. “You must be Mitch.” And he nodded.

“The one and only.” He responded before looking at all the books. “Geez B how much have you been slacking off?”

She grumbled something and shot him a deadly glare. “Geez Mitch how many times do you save the city a week?”

His hands went up in surrender and Mike laughed before tossing her an energy drink. Here I snatched this from my dad.” His eyes went to Butch. “So you obviously know our little lamb chop here, how?”

“Lamb chop?” Butch laughed.

“Ignore him. This is the dude I blew up.” She closed her book.

Mike’s eyes widened. “Yo you’re death kiss boy!”

They all turned towards Mike and Buttercup kicked his shin. He made a noise and Mitch rolled his eyes before taking the initiative to change the subject.

“Your brothers were taken in by Bellum right?” Mitch asked.

Butch leaned over and took the rest of Buttercups drink without a protest from her. “Yep. Pretty sweet deal. She's not too bad.”

“Bellum is a goddess and you better treat her with respect.” Buttercup spat before shoving the rest of her stuff in her bag. “I have to get to class early, see ya.” She glance at Butch. “Try not to do anything stupid and don’t rob them, they are both broke.”

“Hey!” Mike and Mitch yelled in unison.

Butch gave a small laugh before giving her a small wave. “See ya Lamb Chop.”

Her expression turned sour before she scoffed and turned around towards the main building.

“So you two are now buddies?” Mitch asked. “Thought you hated each other.”

Butch’s eyes were still locked on her even when she disappeared into the hallway. There was this stranger feeling within him, one he didn’t know the word too but hatred wasn’t in his system with her anymore, at least that he knew of.

“She’s not bad.” He finished off the soda while the two boys just nodded. --

Butch: Age 14

Buttercup never expected to be sitting in the room that belonged to the person who tried to kill her many times. It was weird but also felt completely natural as they sat on his bed and played video games. She was beating him of course and he said it was because she had video games growing up.

His demeanor had changed over the months as they got closer. Mitch and Mike as well as a few others welcomed him into their little squad. They would go see movies and even though he was born for evil, he rarely did anything bad. Besides the teasing and pranks, he was like a normal kid.

Just with laser beams and dark glowing eyes.

The round ended and she laughed in victory. “Take that snail guts.” She beamed with pride and he only pouted and started another round.

“Whatever Lamb Chop.”

“Told you to stop calling me that.”

He finally got a hit in on her character. They were playing a fighting game and just like real life, he was losing.

“Can I ask you a question?” She said as her character kicked him in the face.

“Shoot.”

“What was Mojo like?”

“You’ve met the monkey.”

“I met in terms of a father.”

The clicking of the buttons filled the room and she suddenly felt bad. “Sorry that's really personal-”

He paused the game. “No it's fine, I just didn’t think you would care.”

“I do.”

“Well for starters, he's super annoying with those damn monologues.”

Buttercup snorted. “For sure.”

“It just sucked to be honest. To know that he only wanted us for control and to defeat you, not because he wanted kids.”

“That must be rough.” She stated. “I never thought about it like that but I would be pissed if it was just for personal gain.”

“Your dad created you for personal gain.”

Buttercup brought the soda to her lips again. “I guess so.”

“But then again.” Butch took his own drink. “It wasn’t about power. It was about having daughters.”

“Yeah.”

“Too bad he got stuck with you.”

She punched his arm lightly. “Shut up!”

Butch only let his back fall to the bed as he swept his hand through his black locks. “Sometimes I wonder if anything good ever came out of this for Mojo.”

“I think you being here was the good thing, whether or not he deeply cares doesn’t matter anymore. There's a lot of people who probably care about you more than you think.”

“Yeah I guess so.” He thought about his brothers and Bellum.

“Well I’m happy Mojo created you and then you know, Him did.”

He gave her a scoff. “Yeah after you fucking killed me.”

“To be fair. I didn’t know what would happen. But on the bright side, your hair is better.” She shrugged before reaching her hand out and pushing her fingers through it.

A weird and unfamiliar electric buzz ran through his system from the contact. Her hand came back to her side as the notion of what she just did registered in her mind. She looked at the clock on the wall before hopping off the bed and grabbing her back pack.

“I got to go but I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said and he nodded. She began to walk out and spotted his hoodie lying on the desk. It was black with the sleeves having a dark green color. She picked up the fabric and turned towards him. “I’m stealing this.”

“Wait!” He called her and she turned around.

“What?”

“Why do we call you Lamb Chop?” He asked.

She stood there debating whether or not to tell him. He did tell her something personal so she looked at him with a blank expression. “I once choked on a lamb chop.” And then she opened the door and left.

He sat on the bed looking at the closed door. He furrowed his brows before looking at the screen that was glowing slightly.

There's a lot of people who probably care about you more than you think.

“Maybe.” He whispered to himself. --

Butch: Age 15

He decided high school was a personal hell hole. Even with his powers and snarky attitude and gross sense of humor, people really liked to push his buttons.

“Dude what crawled up your butt and died?” Mike asked as he sat at the lunch table.

Mitch joined them and looked at Butch who had a scowl on. “Probably because Jason asked out Buttercup.” He smirked.

Mike took a bite of his apple. “Oh shit really? Does he even play sports?”

“Track and debate. I don’t think he has the highest scores.” Mitch replied. “Butch seriously you look dead.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night.” He mumbled before slamming his head down.

They heard the footsteps approaching the table and soon Butch felt the shift in weight on the shitty lunch table bench.

“Sup losers.” Buttercup said as she took her seat. She was wearing the hoodie she had stolen last year and they had forgotten that it even belonged to the green ruff.

“Who's your new boy toy.” Mike asked and she shot him a glare.

“Don’t call him that.” She looked at Butch whose face was flat against the table. Her hand came down on his neck and he shot up. “The hells wrong with you?”

“Didn’t sleep.” He rubbed the back of his head. “No need to hit a guy you bitch.”

She only rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Aww don’t worry Lamb Chop, he’s just mad that you aren’t gonna pay attention to him.” Mitch smirked.

She leaned over and pinched his cheek. “Aww does someone want my attention.” She said mockingly in a baby voice.

Butch pushed her offer before stabbing her side with his finger. “You wish you had me toots.” He said darkly before pushing her towards the edge of the bench. She caught herself before falling.

Buttercup flicked his forehead before standing up. “I got to go but I’ll see you assholes later.” She grabbed her bag. “Also one of you smells like pine and I don’t hate it.” She said before ruffling Butch’s hair and leaving.

Butch’s mood went fell back to the scowl and he also got up. “I'm gonna go see Boomer, said he needed help with something.” He scooped up his bag before flinging it onto his shoulder. “Later.”

Mitch and Mike waved to him before Mike took the last bite of his apple. “Hey Mitch?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you smell like pine?”

“Nope.” he popped the ‘p’.

“Thought so.” --

Butch: Age 16

He was sitting on the edge of the skate rink. His feet swayed slightly until the heel of his shoes hit the pavement and bounced forward again. He thought about lighting a cigarette and clearing his mind. The pack was in his hands, his thumb toying with the flap. The rolled paper sat on his lips as he debated whether or not to light it.

“Where the fuck is she?” He grumbled to no one. It was dead quiet with no one in sight. “Probably out with the dumb ass”

The end of his cigarette sparked to life with a green flash. He tilted his head up to see Buttercup.

“Bout damn time.” He blew the smoke out. “What took you so long? Jason couldn’t keep his clammy hands away?” He snickered.

She would usually laugh at the tease but instead she was silent as she dropped her board and sat next to him.

The lighthearted mood they normally shared was off and he gave her a weird glance. “Damn Lamb Chop, you’ve been crying or some shit?” He asked as he took another drag.

“Um” Her voice sounded dry. “We-I, broke up with him.” She said slowly.

He bit his lip and nodded. At first he had nothing to say. He wasn’t good with comforting other people's feelings, especially not the green puff. They may have had their fair share of tender moments that were movie bond but this was the first time a break up was ever in place.

“Oh.” He didn’t really know what to say so he just shrugged. “I’m sorry. Was there a reason?”

She pulled her knees to her chest. Her eyes were red at the corners and she looked as if she had been crying but he didn’t say anything.

Her fingers toyed with a pebble on the ground. “He said that he didn’t like us hanging out and how close we were.”

“Thats stupid.”

“Y-yeah. It is.” She said as the breeze came and made her shiver.

He noticed this and shrugged off his jacket before placing it over her without a second thought. He had missed the way her cheeks turned pink and their way her shoulders relaxed.

“He also said that he didn’t like the way I dressed or wanted me to be more like Blossom.” She spat. He gave a low whistle. “Thats fucked up bro. I may be dumb sometimes but the last thing you wanna do is compare a girl to her sister.” He snuffed his cigarette out next to him.

Her laugh was dry as she wiped away her tears. He hated seeing her cry. She didn’t deserve to have a guy do that to her, not when it was ultimately about him. The thought of Jason yelling at her because he was jealous of Butch made his blood boil. He wanted to go and find him and maybe knock a few teeth in. Mama Bellum might let it slide since it's an act of friendship, right? Especially since that shit he had said.

“I can’t believe I went out with such a sleaze bag. When I broke up with him, he just asked if Blossom was available.”

“What did you say?”

She was silent before looking at him. “I slapped him.”

Butch leaned back and let out a loud laugh. “Lamb Chop rocking his shit? I wish I was there to see.” He laughed some more.

She toyed with the ends of the sleeves. “I felt bad but I wasn’t about to let some slug talk about my sister like that.”

“Hey don’t go calling a guy a slug.” He gestured to himself. “That's an insult to some of us.”

She nudged his shoulder and rolled her eyes. “You were made from a snail dumb ass.” She smiled. “And a dogs ass.”

“Fuck off.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “Where's all the sugar and nice shit in you?”

“No where. Not now at least.” She fell silent.

Jason didn’t deserve someone as cool and bad ass. What kind of guy would even think about ruining a person's emotions over something that petty when that said person can break their bones with a snap.

She was looking straight ahead trying to muffle her tears and quivering of the lips. His gaze went to her and his eyes traced the profile of her face. The way the tears slipped out under those dark lashes and the smallest red to her face. He didn’t even know there was a freckle beneath her right eye.

Butch continued to secretly stare at her. His mouth slightly parted as he felt his heartbeat pick up. The look of her in his hoodie made his head spin and he really enjoyed the sight.

“On the bright side, you don’t have to be stuck at prom with his lame ass.” He tried to lighten the mood.

Her eyes met his. An array of light greens and a tang of yellow swirled his iris and he couldn’t understand why he never bothered to look closer before.

“I probably would have left him before that anyways.” She whispered. Another breeze came and their shoulders touched as she leaned slightly to his warmth.

“Really?” He asked and her eyes fell to his lips then came back to his eyes.

“Yeah. I think so.” She said as she leaned closer but he gave her a small nod before looking back out towards the rink. “Should have left him sooner anyways.”

He hadn’t seen her blow up her bangs or what she whispered to herself.

“Well I wouldn’t give an ass hat like that the time of day. Fuck him. You’re Buttercup Motherfucking Utonium and you don’t need any lame guy to be by your side.”

“Yeah.” She huffed. “Fuck him.”

“Plus.” He jumped up and grabbed his board. “I'm the only guy you need to worry about.” He winked and she looked up at him with glossy eyes. “Now forget about him and let’s skate so I can see you fall on your ass.” He pushed his board down and took off smoothly before dipping into the rink.

She finished her tears and hugged the jacket before grabbing her own board and joining him.

Butch: Age 17

Butch sat there staring at his drink. The ice cubes melting at such a slow pace he wondered if time was even real. The song changed for the third time and yet he was sitting on the sidelines feeling sorry for himself for a reason that he couldn’t comprehend.

His head was a mess, his palms were sweaty and he was pretty sure that his facial expression was dull and unreadable. He had decided in that moment that prom was stupid. He saw Boomer out on the dance floor twirling Bubbles and was glad that someone was having fun at least. From a distance he could make out the hair of his brother and probably Blossom, they probably fought before deciding to dance. Stupid teenage hormones.

“Hey man.” Mitch joined him at the table, drink in hand and more hairspray than the cast of a Broadway musical.

Butch gave him a half smile. “Hey Mitch. How's it going.” He was trying to be as polite as possible but all he wanted to do now was leave this shit show of a dance.

“Fine.” He popped the tab on his soda. “How's it for you?”

The fake laugh was a give away as Butch took a sip of his drink. “Peachy.” He really wanted to leave.

Mitch stood there watching him with raised brows and his mouth tightened into a straight line. His eyes raked over the dance floor and then to the other tables. He turned back to Butch and smirked.

“What?” Butch snapped a little too hard and Mitch shrugged.

“Why don’t you just ask her to dance?” Mitch looked towards the dance floor.

“Who?” He was met with a sigh and a look that said “you're an idiot.”

“Buttercup you dumb fuck.” He rolled his eyes. “And here I thought Boomer was the dumb one.”

He looked away over the vast crowd of people. All dressed up for a dance they would forget in the next ten years or even tomorrow. “Why would I-”

His eyes landed on her and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

She sat at her own table. A light conversation going with some random girl, probably a team mate. Her fingers traced the rim of her soda, a small ring sparkling under the light. She had gone with her sisters to this damn thing and it was the first time tonight where he actually saw her.

A dark green dress that seemed a little uncomfortable to her as she picked at the skirt pooling around her heels. He had laughed at the thought of her in a dress. She had told him how stupid she was going to look and he had agreed with a lighthearted sigh.

But he was wrong.

So incredibly wrong.

“Oh for fucks sake.” He whispered under his breath and his eyes met Mitch’s. A blank stare with a sly smile as he took another sip.

“You just realized?” Mitch laughed and patted his back as he stood up to go find his own date. “I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since Jason had asked her out last year. Took you this long. Hell I’ve been waiting since we first met.”

Mike walked up to the table, his eyes looking towards Mitch before he grabbed his hand.

“Babe Butch just found out he likes Buttercup.” Mitch laughed, making his face turn red with embarrassment.

Mike looked towards Butch with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “About fucking time dude! Go get her!”

Mitch left the table and he sat there staring at his drink again. The feeling when she had told him that she was going out with Jason made his blood boil and his skin twitch and he never knew why. Or at least he pretended not to.

And then the following year when they had broken up. The tears in her eyes were genuine and even though he was comforting her, he felt fine about the relationship ending. Happy even.

But now he stared at her from across the room. The music had turned to white noise and he was focused on her only. He furrowed his eyebrows before chugging his drink, it wasn’t alcohol but it would do. He got one step in before she shifted in her seat and her eyes fell to his.

It was an electrifying feeling that jolted through his body. Her eyes didn’t leave his even as he straightened his tie and walked towards her. In those few moments he kicked himself on how he didn’t see it before. --

“You got a date?” She asked him while they were lounging at the skatepark, the rest of their friends had left for the evening. The sky had melted from blue to a candy floss pink, a light breeze in the air.

“Eh might just ask some random girl passing down the hall.” He shrugged. “Not really feeling it I guess.”

She pushed her hair back as she tilted her head towards the sky. “No ones got your eye?”

At first it didn’t make sense why she was asking. Her face had a slight red to it but he thought it was from the heat. He had brushed it off, thought nothing of it.

“Not really.” Why did he feel like he was lying?

“Maybe I’ll steal Blossom’s thunder and ask Brick.” She teased and Butch glared at her. “Stop saying my brother is hot. He’s not.” He pouted and she laughed lightly.

“But he is. I leave him to Blossom.” She winked.

He crossed his arms. “I’m way hotter than him.” She heard him mumble.

She let the topic die in the wind as they sat there in a comfortable silence. She noticed the way his flannel clung to his arms and turned her face away with a blush and a twitch of anger.

“Really not going with anyone?” She asked again and he shook his head.

“Think I might wear a dress, Bubbles will probably force me.” Buttercup sighed but in all honesty she was looking forward to these things. Once in a while she liked to get all dolled up and have a good time, sue her.

“I say show up in shorts and tell her to suck it.” He teased and she laughed but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ll probably look horrible.”

“Most likely.” She hit his shoulder.

And they left it at that.

--- In the moment he spent walking up to her table he had finally come to his sense of what had made his mind crazy for the past days, months and years. It was never going from bad boy to someone who played by the rules or the wild ride of high school.

No, it was simple. She had made his heart clamp up and taken over his thoughts. Every action he did somehow was tied to her and if he had a question, she was somehow the answer. The things he did like wearing that pine cologne because she said she liked it or even wearing flannels because he saw her looking at them on her phone. All of those small details he never thought twice about lead him closer to her.

She would steal his hoodies or even run her hands through his hair even when he protested against it. He could tell her everything in his head and she would sit and listen. It all made sense now. And when they were sitting at that skate park, she wanted him to ask her and then he didn’t.

It never clicked that he liked all those things she did. Really liked it. Maybe even loved.

He always thought he was observant, you had to be with a life of crime as your past but he was inconsiderately dense when it came to the one person he didn’t realize mattered the most.

But sometimes the best things come to those who wait. Or figure their shit out. Whichever came first.

“Hey lamb chop.” He said over the music. He was thankful that the other girl she was talking to was gone now. Just them.

She looked up at him then smiled softly. “Hey.”

“You wanna, uh, dance, maybe?” He held his hand out with slight hesitation.

Buttercup looked at the outstretched hand, a small blush dusting her face and he thought she looked pure and delicate in that moment. Her fingers touched the tips of his as she stood up and glanced at the floor with a new found shyness.

“Yeah, I’d like to.”

He pulled her towards a spot away from the heavy crowd and even from their friends. He didn’t need the two lovebirds to add any comments when he was trying to keep his composure together. By the time they got to their location, the upbeat pop song had shifted into a slow song where couples across the floor were grabbing their partners closely.

He gulped and looked up at the tacky disco ball before he felt her arms slip around his shoulder and he looked at her. She offered him a smile that showed she was just as nervous and he let out a breath before relaxing and setting his hands on her hips.

It was a little weird at first. They were the two toughest people in the school and probably the city. He had seen her burp and get her hands dirty. Fall and scrape her knees and suffer punches to the gut and even blood trickling down her face.

He thought it was teenage hormones that were making him feel weird when he saw her like that. Calm, relaxed, free and even full of power and rage. He should have known that it was his heart trying to tell him that he had a fat crush on her.

But now looking at her in the dim lights, he laughed to himself.

“What’s so funny?” She asked.

He snorted. “I should have known.”

She cocked her head slightly with a questioning look. “Known what?”

“That you like me.” He stated and her eyes shot open wide like a deer in headlights.

“W-what-I” Her face had flamed up to the color of her sister’s bow and she began to panic. “I don’t-”

“And that I like you.” He said before she could pull away.

“Oh.”

He sighed. “I really should have seen it sooner. I mean come on BC, you’re a firecracker babe and my dumb ass couldn’t comprehend that all those feelings over the years were because of you? It's pretty lame.”

“It's not like I made it easy.” She whispered.

“Easy? It was crystal clear!” he laughed. “The hoodie stealing, the pine, the way you would run your fingers in my hair.”

“It's soft.” She bit her lip.

“I even started wearing flannels because of that damn ad you were looking at.”

“Is that why?” It was her turn to laugh.

“And then the skate park.”

“Oh when I tried to kiss you.”

“Ya when you tried-WAIT WHAT?” His voice boomed and some couples turned around before getting a glare from him.

That panicked look came back onto her face. “I like, leaned in and everything but you turned your head and I just accepted the fact that you didn’t like me I guess.”

“Wow I really am dumb, you should start calling me Boomer.”

“Ew no.” She shook her head. “I’d take you over anyone any day.”

Those words gave him a small tinge of pride. “You’re such a sap.” He murmured as he felt his cheeks turn pink. He held her closer before moving a strand of hair out of her face. Her eyes were bright and soft and he thought she looked beautiful.

“I think you were wrong.”

“About what?” She asked.

“The dress.” He looked down, then back to her face. “You look stunning.”

The expression on her face was of genuine bliss as she leaned forward and this time he knew what he was supposed to do. His lips touched hers and that jolt of electricity that happened all those years ago in his bedroom came back. He felt her lips turn up into a smile and knew she felt it too.

They pulled apart and just stared in silence at one another. It was like the world had faded into the background and it was just them. Dark and neon green dancing through the night.

She giggled, a wonderful sound that was rarely heard.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Buttercup ran her fingers in the back of his hair as they danced. “I’m just glad you didn’t blow up his time.”

“Fuck me too.” His nose brushed against hers. “That just means I can kiss you more.” He said before his lips crashed to her again. It was quicker and more hasty as she melted against him. It was as if he was trying to make up for lost time, to show that he had truly cared about her deeply through the years.

There's a lot of people who probably care about you more than you think.

He thought back to when she had said that. It was a phrase that played over and over in his mind and now he knew she was talking about herself. He pulled away and she pecked him quickly again before leaning her head against his chest. She felt like she was on cloud nine and he liked his lips. She could feel the vibration of his laugh through his chest and looked up at him.

“Don’t make fun of me for being sappy or I’m going to kick your ass.” She gave him an icy glare.

“No it's not that, I think it's cute.” he kissed her forehead. “I just think Lamb Chop isn’t a good nickname anymore.”

Her eyebrows quipped up. “Really?” She was surprised because he was so determined to call her that at any given time. “What would be better?”

His lips pressed to her ear as his hand squeezed her hips lightly. “Cinnamon.”

And when he kissed her again, she then realized what flavor her lipstick was.

---

BONUS: THAT YOU DIDN’T SEE YET :)

Butch: Age 18

“You know how you asked me about Mojo all those years ago?” He said out of the blue. Buttercup propped her head on her hand as she rolled onto her side.

“Yeah I think so.” She responded, not really understanding why he brought up the topic. Over the years the conversation had been put to a stand still and it was something he rather not talk about.

“I remember asking if anything would come out good for Mojo.”

She hummed as she wrapped her finger loosely around the string of his hoodie.

“Well the thing is, I was thinking. Maybe it wasn’t what good Mojo got from the creation, but instead the good that came out of it for me.”

“That’s a better thing to look at. A lot of stuff is good. You have a super sweet mom and you just graduated high school. Colleges want you to play for their teams and your brothers have grown closer over the years.” She said.

His lips turned to a smile as he reached out to brushed the hair kissing her face. “And you.” He chuckled as her face flamed up and she buried her face into his chest.

“Sap.” She stated, her voice slightly muffled.

“I’m just saying.” Butch ran his fingers through her hair. “I think out of all the things that could have happened, you were the best thing.”

She tilted her head slightly to meet his eyes before looking to the side. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

“Gee thanks.” He teased as he tapped her nose. “But I am serious babe. You make me want to be a better person. Someone who is worthy enough to stand by your side.”

“I think you’re worthy.”

“I know you do.”

“And I don’t care what anyone has to say because you make me feel like no one else can.” She placed a hand on his cheek before he reached and put his own over it. “

Her eyes fell to his before he leaned and kissed her softly. It was a mystery of how he actually let himself get through high school without kissing her. It was his favorite thing to do as it provided a comfort and he really liked the taste of the chap stick she wore on the daily. Not to mention that her lips were incredibly soft anf he relished in the fact that it was something only he got to do.

“I love you.” She whispered as they pulled apart. His eyes widened slightly as if he didn’t hear those words correctly. He blinked as he stared at her and she only gave him that soft gaze he adored so much.

They were hardly any words to describe how he felt about her in that moment. “I love you too.” He said back and she looked like she was glowing.

“How much do you love me?” She winked as teased him with a feathery kiss.

“More than you could even know Cinnamon.” He finished before capturing her lips again into another passionate kiss.

I hope you all enjoyed! This was a monster to complete and really fun

#greens #butchercup #butch x buttercup #buttercup x butch #ppg butch #ppg buttercup #ppg #ppg fanfic #greens fanfic #thewritingstar

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cadomoisspokenfor · 3 years ago

Text

Legion Rewatch Notes,

Chapter 7:

The King In Yellow

Walter’s really putting his all into that whistling.

Kerry ended up losing Walter eventually. But I guess she was chased out of her hiding place by the zombies.

Theory: Much like how David feels most stable and confident when Syd’s around, Kerry feels most stable and confident when Cary’s around. She’s much less likely to lose a fight or get scared if Cary is in the vicinity. This would also explain why she feels so betrayed that Cary left her in Mental Clockworks. She works best when he’s around (power of love and all that) so when he’s not around she constantly feels like she’s on the ropes. Maybe only subconsciously though.

Lenny says “Hey” a lot.

So Farouk... actually seems distressed here. This is him at his least chill. He’s just shoved a person he actually cares about into a corner of their mind cause he just couldn’t understand them, the dream he’s created is collapsing and he has no plan on how to deal with it (rare for Farouk), and the location of his own body (his temple) is still lost to him after all this time.

Also, there’s apparently no specific place it could be. Farouk’s body could be anywhere on the globe. I guess he and everyone who knows about is aware that he could come back to his body if he knows where it is?

Even though it’s pointed out a lot I’ll also note that Charles is in his wheelchair in Amy’s flashback. And given future/past events (confusing, I know) this either means Farouk is the one who put him in a wheelchair, or whatever caused it happened between defeating Farouk and giving away baby David. And there’s... really not a lot of time in between those 2 events.

As we’ve seen before, while Farouk can probably see into Oliver’s ice cube residents, he can’t actually go inside or do anything to Oliver (or his guest) while he’s in there.

Farouk doesn’t want the dream to end until he’s located his body.

Cary is used to finishing Oliver’s sentences.

Cary and Oliver think very alike. The biggest difference between them I suppose is Oliver’s reality bending powers.

David never agreed to the barbershop quartet but Oliver put his name down anyways.

I never caught this before, but the thing that makes it obvious to Cary is the fact that the parasite called itself “King”. Before when watching this I thought “it’s just a name,” but I guess the point is... what other villain would be so hubris filled as to advertise who they are so openly. It speaks to the brazenness of Farouk. If Charles had ever checked back and found out David was talking to some invisible friend named “King” Farouk woulda been discovered then and there. I can only assume this means the name “King” was taunt of sorts. A joke only Farouk was in on. Not to mention, Farouk probably would never have settled for a name any less dignifying.

Oliver doesn’t remember any of his past friends, but he does remember Farouk. I wonder, did him and Cary hear about Farouk before or after Charles defeated him? Farouk hasn’t been publicly doing things for 30 years, and the only event that could reasonably be linked to him is Meiser Sunday. If they knew about him before Charles defeated him then that would just speak to his prolificness as a villain, I guess. “The Shadow King”, an unstoppable force for years until a random prodigy mutant gets him on his first try... or so they thought. I believe that’s how it happened in the comics too.

I’ll also note, Charles is an important figure in the mutant community, but it shouldn’t be discounted that the mutant community still existed and had a whole rich history before Charles even stepped on the scene. It seems like either Xaviers School doesn’t exist in this timeline, or they just don’t know about it. And given that, Summerland seemingly founded itself off the same general ideas of the Xavier School, but completely independently. Like 2 people coming up with the same idea on different sides of the planet.

Farouk’s weakness as Oliver puts it is, “He puts all of his energy into tricking David. Didn’t think to watch his six.” I wonder... is this a consistent weakness of Farouk’s? Could this be what Oliver means when he says he found his weakness in s2?

Oliver admits Farouk is too powerful for him. It’s not like he’s one to have a power complex, but it is interesting how shameless he is about it. He doesn’t really philosophize about that kind of thing, he’s matter of fact about it. Farouk’s got more measurable power than me, we need to find another way around him. He also notes though that *David* could defeat Farouk if need be. Everyone recognizes David as the top of the food chain.

Small note: I guess this is how it works between omega lvls. Always thinking of ways around each others raw abilities. Farouk knows David is too strong for him in s2, so he finds away around it. David knows he might not be able to hold out against Farouk’s built up experience, so he finds away around it. Brains over brawn every time, it would seem.

Cary feels really really bad for David. Seeing him screaming his brains out in a locked box knowing full well how much David hates small space. It’s very sweet. But also, 2 episodes Cary seemed a bit more standoffish about David. Knowing what he knows now recontextualized all those past events. David is a victim of something incomprehensibly terrible. He sees that now.

My boi Dan’s gonna need a lozenge after this one.

“We’re gonna need everybody.” They never get Ptonomy :/

I didn’t pick up on any of the other times, but Syd’s job here is to be a distraction. Sure, she has to protect the others in the process, but freeing them from the dream is the job of Cary, Oliver, and Melanie.

Still though, David is the victim who needs help here. He’s not the hero who saves them, he’s the one in need of saving. And Syd takes charge in the plan to do so and is tasked with protecting the others, making her once again closer to the hero archetype than David is. In the moment at least.

Syd’s talking fast cause they don’t exactly have all the time in the world here.

The zombies vanish but the architecture remains. There are “degrees” of real in the astral plane.

“Just thought it’d be interesting.” She’s over the whole “jumpscare haunted house” thing by now.

Silly me, the Melanie scene took place after Cary went to gather people. So it’s definitely Cary in the suit.

Melanie’s glad to see he’s back but she’s not completely love struck. Probably both cause he doesn’t remember her, and cause lovestruck Melanie was a result of her mind being altered to fit the delusion. Cary is guiding them out of the delusion so she’s back to her old self basically. Rational, and concerned with the mission.

This isn’t important, I just like how Melanie wakes him up here. It’s sweet, and bitter, cause it’s too late for him anyways.

Why does Farouk simulate this whole process for Rudy? What’s the use in tricking him if he already can barely do anything? We know Rudy gets him eventually, but it’s just surprising that Farouk recognizes him as being a potential threat.

Cary neglected to inform Syd who else he was personally waking.

Is Walter seeing the zombies too? Unclear. But he’s less chill about his tormenting now.

David starts using humor to cope. From what we’ve seen he’s been non-stop screaming for a while. It seems like he stops panicking as much specifically because his mind is fracturing to help him cope.

His first alter (that we see). Rational Mind.

RM says the coffin is just an “idea.” Very specific word choice there.

Rm tells him to forget all the “lies” he learned in memory work and the MRI. That was all Summerland stuff, though. “It’s your mind.” Essentially, trust yourself. You know who you are, don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. Not even your new friends. Very reminiscent of, “You decide what is real and what is not.”

David doesn’t want to call his adoptive parents his parents anymore.

David’s happy to finally contextualize Farouk as a mutant and not a mental illness. It all starts making since to him, his whole life.

RM’s the first one to say “boohoo,” and it’s in response to David’s sadness over his bio-parents giving him away.

“I am pretty, I am loved.” “Good, keep going.” This mindset David’s falling into is specifically encouraged by his alters. In fact, it’s RM that pushes him down this path in the first place. David (non-Shadow King possessed David) has been avoiding this thought all season.

David’s a bit wrong here, and I think the difference tells us something important. David assumes Farouk possessed him after he was already living in the Haller’s house. But, we know it seemingly happened before Charles even got back from Morocco. So, given that Gabrielle’s mental health was already bad from post-partum depression (alternatively, it’s just the depression she already had) and Charles leaving her alone to go to Morocco, Farouk coming in and haunting the house probably sent things over the edge. David was most likely given away because Gabrielle wasn’t well enough to care for him like he needed, and Charles... 🤷🏾‍♀️ tbh. Might just’ve not wanted to raise David without Gabrielle. They both said they didn’t ant him to turn out like them. In s3 it’s made to seem like the house haunting was a combination of David and Farouk. David’s haunting time travelly presence probably made things worse, but Farouk would’ve gotten to the baby much sooner if not for him, and without David in the way Farouk probably would’ve upped his own intentional torments. The goal was revenge after all.

David assumes Farouk’s goal is revenge upon the whole world. Makes sense since that’s what Farouk’d been encouraging David to all season. And what he’ll continue to encourage him towards throughout s2 & 3.

Syd “woke him up.” She makes him more stable and sane. She grounds him in reality.

“I was sick, but I’m not sick anymore.” A moment of quiet deliberation with his alter and then he awakens with newfound confidence and a plan. This will repeat in a very tragic way later on.

Kerry, Syd, and a damaged comrade in a wheelchair. If I had nickel for every time this happens I’d have 2 nickels. Very weird it happens twice. Unless... mental clockworks and the end of s3 are supposed to parallel each other.

I assume the astral-plane diving suit protects whoever’s wearing it from psychic threats, much like the ice cube. At the moment, no one’s wearing it.

Sometimes psychics powers require a bit of miming to manifest. Oliver can’t just wave his hand and make a shield, not a strong enough one at least. Similarly, Farouk can’t just expand his mind into the future, he needs to go through a whole time machine building process in the astral plane.

Cary and Melanie seeing Walter get killed must hit hard for them considering he used to be a student of theirs. Sure, he turned against them, but still...

They juxtapose Walter dying with Rudy fully waking up. I wonder if that means it was his powers that were keeping Rudy docile and not necessarily the stab wound.

David is the one that wakes them all up, destroys the dream, and puts them back in their real bodies. And just in time for Cary to place the halo on his head. This is I think the first time David does a real act of super-heroism. The only potential one previously is saving Amy and he wasn’t really the one in control there. This is his first win against Farouk.

David’s not only got control of his powers, but control of himself for the first time, too. And it’s to the point where he’s perceiving things at lightning speeds and moving fast enough to catch bullets. Along with whatever power he’s using to halt the bullets momentum too. For now at least, this is our hero.

They play sinister music whenever he does the bright white light teleport. He does it again at the end of s2. Is it a specific kind of teleport, or is he just adding flair?

David didn’t teleport them directly to the base.

Kerry sadly looks at Rudy’s body.

Melanie looked around for Oliver but in doing so missed him meeting up with the others.

Everyone’s relaxing after their long fought for victory. David and Syd seem really happy. They find Oliver funny/charming.

When Cary’s talking to Kerry, in the background I can barely make out everyone else talking about potatoes.

David’s fine with Amy apologizing, just not in front of the others.

Instead of “The Poor Woodcutter and His Wife” Oliver calls it the “The story of The Lady and the Crane.”

Farouk doesn’t like small spaces either. Ha.

#legion fx

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aelaer · 4 years ago

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☕ The fact that Wakanda was presented as an advanced country looking down on others from it's comfortable vibranium armchair but had a monarchist system that could place a ruler with 100% muscles and 0% brains at the head, along with other bothersome stuff like that, like Shuri being the head of the government's science department while she is a part of the royal family, or really, every single part of Wakanda that looks good on paper - a king with a council of people leading the different tribes - but that history has shown us very often ends up creating a dictatorship, which is really what happened in the movie and I'm surprised no one sees it.

Like, the movie literally shows us this country that's supposedly so advanced, with spies and people placed around the world, most likely putting their fingers in as many pies as possible, and an incredibly developed technology - which is frightening on many levels considering that UN or no Wakanda could blow up everything outside of its borders and people wouldn't know it until it happened -, but with a monarchist - and whatever other words could define it - governmental system that has revealed a lot of problems in its configuration. The tribes leader were literally being choked in the throne room and no one was doing anything, there was a destruction of a historical, scientific and cultural heritage being condoned by the new religious ceremony leader(???) just because the king ordered it. They would've literally tried taking over the entire non-black population (and where does that leave all the metis people? All the ones that are not white, but not black? Of middle eastern descendance? Of Asian one? Etc?) if the ex-monarch hadn't done something.

What I'm trying to ask if, what do you think of Wakanda being a good idea on paper but terrible in practice? True! Untrue? Something else?

Holy shit lady, you ask the tough questions. This is a difficult subject to cover - you’re asking me to look at the political structure of a fictional society within a disenfranchised continent - and I’m uncertain if it’s possible to do a decent analysis without addressing heavy topics. Basically, I don’t want to sound like a privileged dickwad. So I guess what I can say is - this comes from someone with a (mostly decent) American-based education, and no formal study of pre-colonial customs and political structures in Africa. I apologise for any misconstrued ideas and more than welcome any corrections to those who know more about these subjects!

I like Wakanda on paper, mostly due to the fact that the majority of Africa got completely screwed in terms of historical treatment and I’m rooting for the continent’s people to gain their own voices again. Wakanda being such a huge thing in international popular culture might serve as an inspiration for someone who ends up being important to at least one country there. In that sense, I really like Wakanda - the idea that it can potentially inspire historically disenfranchised cultures in the real world. How practical that thought is, I’m not sure - I might just be too idealistic.

Dictatorships can happen in non-monarchies as well, which you know -- as the most famous examples in 20th century history are not monarchies. The issue that can appear in monarchies -- or dictatorships -- is the lack of checks and balances to help keep those in power from going overboard (or the populace not having enough manpower/arms to get a dictator-like-coup out, but that’s an entirely different discussion!)

From what we got in the movie, Wakanda does seem to lack those checks and balances and no ability to overrule a king’s command. It seemed that they never had any sort of Magna Carta in their history (which is far from a perfect document, but did start the precedent of limiting monarchical power), and it doesn’t seem there’s anything resembling a representative government with veto power over the leader that you see in, what, 2/3rds of the world these days? (I legit have no idea, but I do know it’s wide-spread.)

But why wouldn’t they have such a document limiting monarchical power or some sort of democratic process? The modern mindset across many countries around the world leans towards democracy and elected, representative governments. But it can’t be denied that colonialism helped spread this, as -- at least, according to wiki -- representative democracy/liberal democracy/Western democracy all originate in Europe. So, in some way it makes sense that they didn’t transition yet because they were never colonized, and they were completely self-contained so didn’t have any of the outside world conflicts to force them to make changes. France helped fund the barons who pushed for the Magna Carta. France was also responsible for helping fund/arm the US in their fight to gain independence (lol France vs England history, it’s so great). External conflicts with other regions/countries caused *changes* to happen in those societies, at least from what I know of European history. Possibly happened in other continents, but I’m just not knowledgeable enough about their histories to give specific examples.

Wakanda had no outside conflict, and with no outside conflict, you get one major source of problems eliminated. Civil wars happen for a multitude of reasons, but perhaps one of their solutions historically for kingship changing without civil war was the fight of a representative of a tribe to try and win it over. Who knows? But when you’re enclosed like Wakanda was, there’s a lot less chance of things changing.

(On that note - their selection of a new leader is also incredibly disproportionately unfair to women. The average man is physiologically stronger and faster than the average woman. It’s just--biology. But who knows, maybe Wakanda was the same as much of the rest of the world in terms of their thoughts of women leading in politics. There’s comic canon that could be different, but the MCU did a lot of changes from comic canon.)

A *lot* of things changed across the world in the 20th century, making the world much smaller. Before the 20th century, it was likely considered completely useless and nonviable to make war on other nations because, though they were more technologically advanced, it’s incredibly unlikely they had something akin to nuclear bombs in the 19th century. They had to have their own steps of progression. And if they were only *a bit* better, they couldn’t stop the entire world if they started attacking and word spread. It’s only in the late 20th, early 21st century that things like destroying the rest of the world with Wakandan weaponry was likely actually feasible. Though honestly? I don’t think that shield could withstand a nuke. I just don’t see it. If Erik’s plan went through, he may have doomed Wakanda's capital city to being utterly annihilated because too many countries do have the ultimate kill button, and there are some who would not hesitate to use it.

It also could be cultural. Wakanda didn’t go conquering their neighbors left and right. They were happy with five tribes and it seemed to remain five tribes. That speaks of something deeply cultural, deep within the roots of how they’re raised and taught. Erik came from an entirely different culture with a violent childhood and background, and because they were in the 21st century, other Wakandans could *learn* of the rest of the world, and get new ideas - and get the same anger that stirs war and revolutions, and ultimately can affect a country’s culture.

So perhaps before the 21st century, limited power with the king wasn’t needed simply due to their isolation. Now, though that they are much more connected with the world, maybe they need something more like Botswana or Nigeria, only tied in with a monarchy (according to wiki -- Elsewhere, in Botswana, the kgosis (or chieftains) of the various tribes are constitutionally empowered to serve as advisors within the national legislature as members of the Ntlo ya Dikgosi. Meanwhile, in Nigeria, the various traditional polities that currently exist are politically defined by way of the ceding of definite authority from the provincial governments, which in turn receive their powers to do so from a series of chieftaincy laws that have been legislatively created.)

So basically what I’m trying to say is, while I’m personally super gung ho about representative democracies and individual liberties, that’s not necessarily the culture of Wakanda and it may not fit for them. But *what* the culture of Wakanda evolves into, being more open to the rest of the world -- and thus, the rest of the world’s ideas and cultures, remains to be seen. They may find that they do need to reform their political structure after the civil war we saw in the first film, though, and perhaps they do so.

#mdcbd #wakanda #erik killmonger #meta #mcu #ask #answered

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mymindsmadness · 5 years ago

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Why I hate seeing the Uchiha logo on Sakura’s shirt/why I don’t ship SasuSaku

DISCLAIMER: I’m not shitting on anyone’s ship. I get it. You love them. You do you booboo, I’m just here to speak my truth. Don’t come at me with comments shitting all over the things I love. You have your opinion and I have mine.

If you are a SasuSaku shipper and you read past this point, you have no one but yourself to blame for your anger!

I’m probably gonna rant a bit, so I’ll start with the bottom line. Sakura and Sasuke’s relationship is one of the most toxic relationships I’ve ever seen.

Unrelated (but kind of related): All the female character are written pretty shitty, and that adds to this whole mess.

Part I [Young Love]:

Okay. I get it. She’s all for Sasuke and he doesn’t give her the time of day. We love a queen that gets hers in the end. The problem is that Sakura’s core personality traits are based off of her obsession. Her wants. Her flaws. Her essence as a [non] person is completely defined by Sasuke’s character. This is even verified when Kakashi asks them about themselves and Sakura literally gives [giggles] Sasuke for every answer.

When they’re tested with the bells, Sakura shows no ninja prowess whatsoever. She shows no skill beyond hiding in a bush. The only time we really see her moving/thinking/talking, is when it’s to ‘rescue Sasuke’. She even refers to him as ‘my Sasuke’ a dozen or so times. Seriously, it could be a drinking game.

During the chunin exams, we see a little more of a backbone from Sakura. But even as she struggles to make herself be seen, she really only wants to be seen by – you guessed it – Sasuke.

When Sasuke gets extra angsty [YOLO style], and tries to leave the village, Sakura tries to go with him. Think about that. Sakura tries to leave the village. Her home. Her family. Her friends. Everything! She does this because the idea of becoming a criminal is more appealing than being left behind by Sasuke.

But you know what? I’ll excuse it. She’s only thirteen at this point. She’s entitled to make stupid choices in the name of puppy love. We’ve all been there, man. And sure, at thirteen all love feels like true love. You know what girl? I forgive you.

Part II [Personal Growth]

At this point, Sakura’s whole character arch is defined by the people that leave her. And I could forgive this – almost. Enter Tsunade. I love Tsunade. I worship Tsunade. She is probably the one female character in the whole show that is as well integrated as the men [if we ignore the fact that her whole backstory is revolved around them]. When Sakura started training with Tsunade, I knew there was about to be an Eye of the Tiger montage. Sure enough, my girl comes through. Come Shippuden, Sakura is kicking ass and taking names [literally]. Better yet, she found her niche in medical ninjutsu [insert joke about how females always play the healers]. She’s got chakra for days and the control of a saint. Piss my girl off? You ‘bout to lose a lung.

Yes, Sakura’s still insecure when it comes to her place among the others, but can we blame her? She had demi-gods as teammates. But it’s different now. Sakura knows she’s a badass. She’s fully aware that her control and strength are something to be proud of. She uses those years of neglect and training to help her comrades!... and chase down Sasuke.

By the beginning of the 4th war, this bitch has lost her damn mind. At this point, Sakura and Naruto have been searching for Sasuke for the last 3 [or so] years. All this time, Sakura is under the impression that she’s in love with him. The times from when Sasuke left to the end of the war, are some of the most defining years in a person’s life. At 13-17 is when a person’s personality really starts to develop and lay out the foundation for the adult they will be.

Part III [All’s Fair]

Now, I’m not saying that Sakura didn’t hold a certain level of love for Sasuke her whole life. It’s very possible. However, there was no way it could be a romantic love. Think about who you were when you were twelve. Now think about who you were at seventeen. Did anything change in that time?

Sakura could not have been in love with Sasuke because she didn’t know who he was. They hadn’t been in contact in years! She had the memory of who he had been on a pedestal, and without him around to alter that image, it became more and more idyllic. By the time Sasuke returned [at the end of the war], Sakura was still in love with the idea of him.

She had put their relationship and romance in the forefront of her mind all of her life. It had been her driving force and defining mindset. When this crazy ass bitch [ily gurl] activated her seal and literally jumped on a pike for her boys, it was the most badass thing she’d ever done. And when she was done with that? She got upset that Sasuke hadn’t noticed/cared. She was fighting for her friends, her family, her village, her life… and all that confidence she had gained was brought down by the fact that the boy she thought she loved didn’t notice.

Part IV [In Which Sasuke Cares… Allegedly]

Remember when Sakura finally got Sasuke to notice her? When he overcame his terminal broodiness and admitted that he was touched that she never gave up hope in him? When he kissed her goodbye with the promise of returning and being worth all of her unfounded love and attention?

Oh… right… that never happened.

I mean… he tapped her forehead like Itachi did to him that one time… Same thing I suppose.

Okay, okay… I might be being a little harsh. I’ll concede that it is a genuine act of affection for Sasuke. But… a minor one. Alright, our broody boi doesn’t like PDA… Still, we’re given no indication that they talked about their feelings before this goodbye. That’s backed up by the fact that she asks to go with him – something she would have done before now if they had. Legit, Naruto got more of a goodbye than Sakura did [two dudes, chillin’ in the woods].

To the best of everyone’s knowledge, Sasuke only stayed in Konoha for about a year after the war. Now, depending if you follow the manga or anime, some of that time might have been in jail. My point is, that a year or less was spent in the village after several years of Sakura loving him from a distance.

At this point, she very well might have learned about the older Sasuke. She might have decided that she did still love him [doubtful on a realistic level]. But then he leaves. We’re not sure for how long, but if we look at Boruto, it’s common for him to leave for long periods of time.

Once again, Sakura is left behind with her memories of the man she thinks she loves [because without a functioning adult relationship, there’s no way to be sure].

Part V [Sakura Achieves Her Nightmare Dreams]

Let’s step into Boruto for this next part. We flash forward to all of our beloved characters in their adult years. I know what you’re thinking ‘Oh! I’ve missed so much! They’re all so grown up!’. Hahaha, don’t worry. They’re not at all the same people.

Since the series is based on the children, we’re forced to fill in some of the blanks ourselves. Sakura – the best medic nin in Konoha. The woman whose strength rivals that of her mentor’s. The woman who mastered the Seal of 100. The woman who grew into her own as a character, even if the driving force was a boy - is living her best life as… a housewife? I mean... maybe?

We don’t know this for sure, and a lot of us hope she runs the hospital or something [because we want all good things for our girl], but have you noticed that she doesn’t wear a headband? A ninja one that is. The girl who worked hard to not be left behind’s whole adulthood is… the woman left behind.

Even if it can be argued that she achieved her goal… has she? Yes, she wanted to be Sasuke’s wife and baby mama since waaaaay too young of an age to be thinking about that shit, but like this? We know from the fact that Sakura fainted when Sasuke came home that he’s rarely there. This means that she probably raised their daughter alone. Even now, she can’t just leave because Sasuke’s always away.

If you think I’m taking libraries with filling in the gaps, I refer you to that one time her daughter basically asked if they were really married. And if you think I’m exaggerating Sasuke’s absence, I refer you to that time he almost killed his fucking daughter because he didn’t know what she looked like!

Let that sink in.

Part VI [In Summation]

Sakura was a girl that grew up with a false ideal of love. She obsessed over a person that didn’t exist and carried that falsehood into her adult life. When presented with everything she thought she had wanted her whole life, Sakura jumped on the chance because it was the logical move. In gaining everything that she thought she wanted, Sakura lost any personal growth that she had gained by the absence of her obsession aka Sasuke.

Sasuke, who had ignored her as a child, tried to kill her as a teen, and barely acknowledged her beyond using her to revive his clan, can’t be bothered to even appreciate her. Even as he leaves again as an adult, he says goodbye to their daughter [again, with an oh-so-affectionate poke], but simply walks away from Sakura.

The truth is that given the way she blushes and faints around him still, Sakura doesn’t know him. She’s still in love with an idea of the man that grew from the boy she had been obsessed with all her life. She wears the Uchiha symbol on her back as a reminder that she did it. She got the guy! True love wins again! I mean… maybe? He’s fucked her at least, so…

There’s a chance that Sasuke loves Sakura. I think he loves her for loving him. At the very least, we know he’s fond of her… I assume.

Sakura was a character that was used to further the plot of a man. Even as an adult, she’s left to sit and pine as the boys go off on their adventures. She’s a woman that’s stuck in a hell of her own creation – even if she loves her daughter and the things that marrying Sasuke has brought her.

There’s ‘getting the guy’ and being trapped in a toxic idealized relationship. How you choose to see this one is up to you.

#anti sasusaku #naruto #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #my opinion #rant #toxic relationship

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imma-lil-teapot · 5 years ago

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Which Turtle I’d Get Along Best With :)

This is actually in response to @aurora-the-kunoichi ‘s post =

Ignoring the facts on why they are your favorite turtle based on looks and character traits. Based on your personality alone who do you think you would get alone with the best and give me reasons.

I was going to respond to it in the comments, but found the more I thought about it, the more indepth I wanted to actually go into the subject, and it’s been a while since I posted something of my own (sorta) so here we go~

Also, please beware the typos and errors. They bite.

A few things before we start... (Feel free to skip if you’re really not interested, it’s cool) ;)

-- Since a Bay!verse gif was used in the original post (points up), those are the Turts I’m going with in response to the post. :)

-- I have a handful of personal issues that I’m going to take into account when considering which guy I’d get along with best, namely: social anxiety and awkwardness, depression, panic attacks and low self esteem.

-- The general comfort setting I assume is during after the initial reaction of meeting them. So the friendship is still in its early stages but past the ‘OMGOSH, GIANT, TALKING, EXTREMELY BUFF, TURTLES WITH WEAPONS’ phase.

-- I really wanted to talk a bit about each one and how I’d feel around them, so how this is gonna work is basically least comfortable (first) to most comfortable (last) and of course as to why. :)

-- Please don’t think for a second that I dislike any of them based on this! I ADORE all of these boys (even though I do have a fav) and I fully believe that just about anyone (with good intentions) can get along with all of them and vice versa, even if it were to take a while (I’m looking at you, Raph ;P). I don’t see these boys being especially hostile to anyone without good reasoning, but like with all friendships, it takes time.

And with that outta the way~ (Drum roll)

(4) LEAST COMFORTABLE~

RAPHAEL~

Aww, Mr. Big Cuddly Teddy Bear himself? Why would I be the least comfortable around ol’ Red? Perhaps because, first of all, his SIZE!! :O Yeah, technically, Donnie’s slightly taller, and granted, they’re all pretty gigantic, but Raph’s on a whole other level! Skip shoulder day? I think not! And here I am, 5′1′’ and have to look to the sky to see this hulking mass staring down at me with such a piercing gaze and a toothpick poking out of his lips... Yeah, that social anxiety and shyness I spoke of earlier would be busy wetting itself whenever I’d be in the general vicinity of Raphie-Boy. Now let’s get real for a sec, it’s not like Raph’s gonna have a Leatherhead moment and turn savage at the sight of me, but in my irrational mindset, from his displayed temper and the way he goes at that punching bag, he could at any time... Not to mention how he often butts heads with Leo. It would take quite a while to completely dispel the tension and discomfort I’d be in whenever I’m around him. Maybe even a few years since I get really nervous around others that show a lot of anger and physical irritation. I’d definitely feel like he’d find me a bother, irritating or in the way a lot, even though he probably wouldn’t really since he tolerates a lot from others, but that’s just how I’d interpret his actions from my own point of view and I’d always try to stay a little clear of him for the most part. Seriously, I adore you, Raph, but you’d scare the cr@p outta me. :O

On a brighter note, I would admire his dedication to his family, his heroic actions and just the way he works out all the time. But you know, just from... afar. :) At least for a while until I got use to him more, then we might even hit it off after that!

(3) SECOND TO LEAST COMFORTABLE~

LEONARDO~

Sorry Boi Blue. :’( You may be my fav, but I’d be an awkward mess around you. Now I dunno if the favoritism would hold true if I were to meet them in reality (there’s still a good chance it would), but like with Raph, Leo’s someone I’d admire from afar, though the nervousness wouldn’t be as hectic as with his younger brother in red since Leo doesn’t tend to display it as much and not in the same fashion. I tend to have a good amount of respect for authoritative figures (or at least I try to) and he’d be no exception to that rule, but because of this, I’d both enjoy and dread our little interactions for the fear of saying something stupid or to annoy him in anyway, even though I’d probably enjoy his presence since he’s someone to look up to (and no, that wasn’t a short joke ;P ) and to feel protected by. Again, I’d feel like a burden and an annoyance to him but unlike with Raph, I would have to at least open my mouth first to get that same amount of discomfort with him as opposed to Raph... That last sentence wasn’t meant to sound NSFW, just FYI. ;P But with Leo, I think I’d actually try and work around that amount of nerves to get into his good books since he’s proven he can be a bit more on the gentlemanly side so I feel I’d stand a better chance with him... But still pretty nervy and that is why he’s in the no.3 spot. Sorry, Leader Boy. :’(

Up side, the admiration is strong. Leaders have a lot upon their shoulders to bear so that alone puts him in high respects in my eyes. Not mention I’d be in complete awe whenever watching him practicing with his katanas and performing katas... I promised myself I wouldn’t fangirl, but DAYUM, BOI! It’s getting awful warm in the sewer~ Expect applause and compliments after practice! ;P

(2) SECOND MOST COMFORTABLE~

DONATELLO~

Despite us talking about the smartest Turtle, this one’s a no-brainer, really. :) Don’s a sweetheart so I think someone would really have to try their best to get this pacifist to at least not tolerate them. That’s not to say he doesn’t have enemies - like Shredder and Krang of course - but as long you’re not posing a threat to his family, friends, the innocent or the earth, I think you’re pretty much A-okay to him. He’d without a doubt be the brother I’d feel most comfortable around after the first as he seems to take into consideration the feelings and reactions of others and is just pretty laid back in general, not really loud and ranty and for that, I’d definitely feel more at ease around. Plus, he has a bit of a fun and quirky side that comes out every now and then. Heck, even a little bit of a potty mouth. X’D Don is definitely the one I’d go to for advice on just about anything, or just to share random information and trivia with. I feel he’d be a great listener, share his own opinions in a gentle fashion, provide heartfelt solutions and just genuinely be ready to help where he’s needed. Heck, he may even try to engage me in some simple tasks like helping him with a gadget he’s busy whipping up... This is however where the comfort will start to wobble: Don-Bon’s a genius, and I’m intimidated by brilliance of the mind. :( I’d start to feel compelled to stop talking to him after a while for the sheer sake of seeming too dense to be in his presence, especially if he were to start explaining equations and science related topics. His brilliant mindset would be too much for me to bear so I think I’d probably not spend too much time around him. That’s not to say the others aren’t smart, heck, but Don’s on a whole other playing field!

Other than that, I definitely would feel comfortable around this sweetie nerd. He’s adorable! Even though the brilliance is what scares me, I would in turn be in awe of it. :) He’s a regular Einstein and then some with a lovely personality to boot!

When there’s something strange,

with your home wi-fi,

Who ya gonna call?

DONATELLO~

*Is boo’d off the stage* X’D

And finally~

~(1)~ MOST COMFORTABLE~

~MICHELANGELO~

*Lets off balloons and streamers* Well, what a surprise, am I right? ;P Raise your hand if you saw it coming! :)

But seriously though, there wasn’t much to question; Mikey’s easily the one I’d gravitate towards first and feel most at ease around. :) He’s so laid back, fun, non-judgmental, accommodating, sweet, hilarious and charming, just to name a few things! What can I say, the youngest brother of the Turts is adorable and I genuinely feel I’d get along quite well with him. <3 With all my own personal baggage, he seems like the one that would be most patient and understanding with me if anything was to surface, and he’d be so chilled about it or even joke around in a non-offensive manner to help ease the tension. That’s something I’d really appreciate with him, especially in certain situations. His goofiness could quell any nerves, that’s for sure. Even though I’m no prankster of any note whatsoever, if he were to rope me into a very harmless and innocent one here and there, I’d probably be game for it, so the two of us would probably have quite a bit of fun together. Watching movies together too, with pizza, of course! Even laughing at him showing/goofing-off during training.

So yeah, Mikey’s hands down my go-to Turtle boy in terms of comfort level, emotional support and just about everything in that relation. I see no reason as to why I’d not get along with him. He’s just a really great guy whom I feel would really go out of his way to make any human with good intentions feel welcome in his family. Someone who’s really in tune with others’ feelings and emotions and would try to help them when needed in the best way he could think of. A real cutie-pie with a heart of gold who just wants to fit in with the rest of the world. Someone who wouldn’t really care what the person looked like as long as they meant well. That’s Mikey for you, and the one I’d probably be most comfortable around! :D

And there we have it! :) Definitely a fun and enjoyable post to type up! Although the ‘winner’ was a clear cut choice, it really got me thinking how I’d feel around the other three so am really glad I got around to doing this. :) Also, I’m sure @aurora-the-kunoichi would love to see more people respond to the question so if you’re interested, feel free to respond to it. ;)

Thanks for reading~

#tmnt #tmnt 2016 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2k16 #leonardo tmnt #raphael tmnt #donatello tmnt #michelangelo tmnt #response post #this took forever #no seriously #i started it last year #fail #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey

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yutaya · 4 years ago

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Iron Fist Rewatch 1x04: Eight Diagram Dragon Palm

Danny, struggling to pull himself onto that light post thing with his probably now bruised chest: "I dedicate myself to the service of all beings of K'un Lun-" *falls* So is this a recitation they do in training - is he trying to use that mindset to help him climb this beam? Is he doing some sort of traditional ask-the-gods-to-bless-me-with-strength thing?

Lol somehow I had remembered it as Danny crawling up again anyway after the initial push. I forgot they actually went and collected him. Guess that makes them look more favorable to him than my own recall though...

On the coffee table directly facing Danny when he wakes up, probably meant to be a sign to him about where he is and who has so kindly rescued and tended to him after his unfortunate tumble off a building: the formal pic of Harold and children, another photo hard to make out - my first thought was the vacation photo of the 6 of them but it's very sepia, could be something else. Maybe if I look back at other photos we've seen before I could match it.

Danny: "What happened to me? Last I remember I was climbing up-" Ward: "Yeah, like goddamn Daredevil." LOL

UGH THIS WHOLE HAROLD INTRO SCENE UGH Danny mad at Ward one second and then Harold appears and it's like the breath is punched out of him. Looking at Ward and Ward just calmly looking back because he clearly knows what's going on and Danny doesn't - it's as if they're bringing him into their confidence on something. This is a form of offering Danny something he wants - to be a part of something with the only family he thought he had left, not to mention the miracle of one of his parent-figures being alive again. (Wow, what a journey. From finding out Harold is dead and then Ward and Joy both quite clearly rejecting him and denying him a place in their lives to Joy actually doing something to indicate maybe at least she still wants him around after all? To wait, Ward and Harold bringing me in on something too? It's like the dream he clung to in K'un Lun got snatched away and now seems to be trickling back, and - UGH.) "You see him too?" because Danny thought he was seeing things that night at the hospital but this- this is real? Ward's sad, small nod because he knows so much more about Harold than Danny does, and he's seeing this innocent joy (word choice intended) while knowing himself to be wary and that this is almost definitely another manipulation (but what if it's not? What if-? But Harold is still dangerous, he can't help it, there's a reason Ward wants to protect Joy from him even while knowing that Harold favors her so dearly, because there are other ways to hurt your children-)

Harold calmly walking forward while wearing a black suit and confirming "I did die," followed by Danny's "You look the same age as when I last saw you..." - Vampire AU??? (Ugh but why did it have to be Harold? Not a fan of monsters as the bad guys.... need a non-evil vamp to balance him out....)

The way Ward just keeps looking silently between the both of them, like a witness, like - UGH.

"You're home now," GOD DAMMIT and Danny's relief and gratitude and Ward's somber look down I -

Cancer lasted 3 years

Ward: "Dad, are you sure you should be saying this?" Harold: "It's ok. Danny needs to know this." Casting Ward in the opposition role

Ward sits down in the chair adjacent to the couch Danny is on. Harold crosses over from where he was standing near the left side of the couch to sit on the farther right side instead - specifically sitting in between Danny and Ward.

Harold: "I still remember my last breath. Scariest shit I've ever experienced." Ward looks up and away, taking a breath, before turning back again. Combo of eye-roll at dramatics and genuine pain at the thought because that's his dad and Ward remembers those years of pain and decay and - ?

I forgot Danny originally thought of the Hand more like a fable than a reality - and finding out they're a real, present threat combines with being told it's not K'un Lun that they're threatening, but that this whole time, they've actually been digging their claws into his home?

Ward rolling his eyes with his whole body when Harold encourages Danny to think about this as ~embracing his destiny~ hahaha

Ward: No offense, but Danny has zero idea how to do business and therefore maybe shouldn't be running a company with again, absolutely zero training??? Harold: Don't mind Ward being a petulant brat who wants to keep you from your rightful place in our family, Danny. I need you. :)

Harold to Danny: "We've needed a fighter like you back in the family." - right in front of Ward, yet another small "unlike you, who are weak" jab. In line with the whole "Joy can close the deal, you, Ward, can not do anything" lines in the previous episode.

Ward warning Danny about Harold!! But not really doing it great so it could be taken as another 'othering' where Danny could hear 'Harold's not YOUR dad' instead of Ward's intended 'Harold's not your DAD' - made much better by his clarification that Harold only cares about Harold and helping to show he meant 'not a good supportive dad you can lean blindly on' than if he had just. left it at that. I'm glad for Ward's continuing with that line and for Danny's long, considering look at nothing afterward. Gives the sense that Danny feels that something is off, even if he's not sure what.

Colleeeeeeeeeeeeen and her shame and her truly believing in honoring the code of bushido and her teaching these children to get them "the scholarship" to help them in a legitimate, meaningful, honorable way (SOB) and believing that their skills should be about the code and not be about flashiness or showing off or being able to lord their power and ability over others or money -

Code of Bushido (Includes eight virtues, and this episode title is Eight Diagram Dragon Palm. Coincidence???)

1. Rectitude or Justice (refers to PERSONAL rectitude - “one’s power to decide upon a course of conduct in accordance with reason, without wavering” “the bone that gives firmness and stature...without Rectitude neither talent nor learning can make the human frame into a samurai.”)

2. Courage (Bushido distinguishes between bravery and courage - “Courage is doing what is right”)

3. Benevolence or Mercy (“Love, magnanimity, affection for others, sympathy and pity, are traits of Benevolence, the highest attribute of the human soul”)

4. Politeness (Courtesy is rooted in benevolence - “Politeness should be the expression of a benevolent regard for the feelings of others; it’s a poor virtue if it’s motivated only by a fear of offending good taste. In its highest form Politeness approaches love”)

5. Honesty and Sincerity (interestingly, rather than what *I* personally think of when I hear the words “honesty and sincerity”, the info in the Bushido code text about this virtue mostly centers around the idea of disdaining money and riches - probably what Colleen is talking about with her whole “fighting for money breaks the bushido code” thing)

6. Honor (referring to non-martial behavior)

7. Loyalty (bushido text about this seems mostly in context of loyalty to a superior, to your leader, to people you are indebted to. Applies tragically to Colleen and her personal experience with Hand culture. To me, of course, I am more interested in the idea of those leaders deserving your love and your loyalty hand-in-hand with it. Given the other virtues, this IS probably what the code meant to include, but from a modern standpoint it seems like one of those things where especially paramilitary organizations or cults like the Hand could twist the letter of it into an expectation of blindly following orders, even perhaps against your personal devotion to the other virtues)

8. Character and Self-Control (“Bushido teaches that men should behave according to an absolute moral standard, one that transcends logic. What’s right is right, and what’s wrong is wrong. The difference between good and bad and between right and wrong are givens, not arguments subject to discussion or justification, and a man should know the difference.” I get the ideal of this, but something about the wording sits weirdly with me... maybe the implication that they can’t make a mistake?)

Ageless qualities of manliness: choosing compassion over confrontation, and benevolence over belligerence <3

“The tie might be a touch effeminate” Shut UP Ward

Danny, at a press conference: *waves at Jeri* “Hey.” Jeri: *shakes her head*

Danny: “Yes, I was in a mental hospital.” Joy, despairingly: “Oh, Danny”

Jeri smiling. Maybe she worked with Danny on how to handle the press conference and likely questions he would face? My headcanon from this anyway. Ward and Joy looking at each other, seems like in surprise at Danny’s answers and spin?

“Kindness is the eternal law”

The way Danny slips in to this conversation with Joy about the Red Hook property for his Hand investigation is very well done. Reminds me of watching the Netflix trailer and thinking that it made IF look like a show where Danny was some form of government agent going undercover as himself for an investigation.

SO CUTE how Danny goes “woah, I have a first appointment of the day? Who is it?” and then he turns around and it’s his friend Jeri! Hahaha. Danny: “J-money!!” *goes in for a hug* Jeri: “Woah, we don’t do that.”

Jeri: “Your father’s office. Even found his old desk.” Meaning she was the one working on this - Ward is the one who had to set Danny up there after his sarcastic remarks in the penthouse, but Jeri brought in the sentimentality. (Jeri, directly after basically admitting to putting a bunch of effort into a very sentimental gesture here: “Now don’t get all weepy on me.”) Jeri in IF is so soft I love it

Danny: “I pretty much had to raise the dead.” *smirks to himself at his own inside joke*

Jeri, trying to give Danny advice: “For most of these people, you are a hostile takeover.” Me: JERI, HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THE NUANCES OF YOUR CORPORATE SPEAK.

Jeri asks if Danny wants the door open or closed. He chooses open. Open to Megan, open to all his new coworkers and employees. Danny is, at his core, for people.

LOL Did Danny just steal Ward’s chair?

Danny: *forces half the board to move so he can sit next to Joy* Me: DANNY

If these guys really wanted to persuade Danny to their point of view on the sell-at-cost thing, they should have emphasized the “funding new research” part of it instead of just repeating “this is just business” ad nauseam. Obviously Ward is actually trying to do the opposite right now and get Danny driven out, but idk what the rest of these people are thinking. Danny acknowledges that they can still make profits elsewhere, which is his side offering a dialogue to meet them. Their counter is that the WHO will be buying it from them and subsidizing it from other people. If they wanted to meet or even just appear to be meeting Danny partway, they could have suggested an initiative to work with the WHO on a program for that? Although since none of them want to actually do that and don’t really care what Danny thinks about it, I know why they didn’t.

Joy raising her eyebrow at Ward’s declaring that they’ll go to market at cost like “I see you Ward and how many times have I told you to leave the maneuvering to me you are unsubtle and unskilled”

Danny looking back at Ward significantly on his way to his discussion with Joy about the pier deal

Ward taking The Drugs before he has to answer Harold’s late night phone call

Harold: You did a great job today. Ward: *baffled expression* Harold: Now, son, this isn’t the time to point fingers, it’s the time for solutions. Ward: There it is. Harold: Also, you screwed up in the meeting and you need to make it up. Ward: *sigh*

Danny: white sneakers with the suit

Joy casually placing the monks and their traditional robes in a lower class position to them and their white collar formal business attire

Time for Joy to play the angle on Danny, curb his at-cost behavior for the future

The ringmaster choosing the second fighter for Colleen followed by that “look, you guys know all the rules” line - I like this guy. He probably remembers how the last dude Colleen fought was a rule-breaker and wants to keep all his fighters safe as possible in an already dangerous 2-on-1 fight like this.

Again with the camera slowing and the noise fading and the blood splattering camera work giving the “losing control” vibe

“The problem was, I never thought through WHY I wanted this job. I mistook my stubborn will for a sense of... destiny, or something.” (Danny, earlier: “My shifu would have called this destiny.”)

“Every moment was a struggle. Failure... led to a beating. Victory... led to another fighting style. To the next lesson.”

Joy flat out calls it abuse and Danny doesn’t deny it.

Vodka and tonic, light on the tonic.

Danny clearly still shaken by the borderline flashbacks to his life at K’un Lun.

Is this the first time the Hatchets appear? Just storming the apartment and punching Joy in the face? Danny and Joy must both be like “WHAT IS HAPPENING”

Joy tries punching one of them. Good for you, Joy.

Ah yes, Ward flat out telling one of the more shark-like reporters that the drug is a huge deal that would save millions of lives and that Rand was of course planning to really boost the price to make a “huge” profit. “That is a loss of hundreds of millions of dollars [that our one company wanted to make off of the millions of people who needed this drug to save their lives]. He’s worse than those bleeding-heart-liberal-trust-fund hipsters wandering around Williamsburg.” (Note: Williamsburg: hip neighborhood that draws the young and fashionable. Boutiques, cafes, street art, outdoor concerts and food markets. Dance clubs, bars, music halls. East Williamsburg is ranked one of the 5 most LGBTQ+ friendly neighborhoods in Brooklyn.)

“Ellison, don’t give the front page to Karen”

Ward just looks at her retreating back and rubs his hands together like “Ah yes, a job well done.” Biggest question for the viewers in this scene is probably: Did Ward tank this on purpose or is he really that far removed from the reality of the non-Elite?

Colleen: still bloody from her illegal cage fighting and hears noise outside her door. Last time she heard noise, it was attackers breaking in for what probably seemed to her like retaliation. Then it’s Danny and she has the relieved exasperation, but - oh ho, Joy Meachum?

“Wasn’t he stalking you?” “It was a misunderstanding.” “Right. I guess being a millionaire covers a multitude of sins.” (Danny: “Billionaire.” Colleen in the background: *disbelieving huff+head shake*)

TRIADS. Time for my triad rant: Every drama show ever to involve Asian-Americans - even just in one-episode specials - includes triads. I’m so sick of it. I know organized crime is a real problem that actually exists, but - why are the Asians always evil? It’s like having the mafia be a plotline every time an Italian character exists on screen. Plz diversify. Media colors perception.

Danny: literally just walks into a restaurant and says he needs to speak to the head of the crime gang. AND THEN NONE OF THEM EVEN BOTHER TRYING TO DENY IT. The Hatchets literally just open the door to their backroom where you can clearly see their illegal activity and come out to talk to Danny. What if he was working with the cops, guys?

It’s so scary how the Yangshi Gonsi react to the mention of the Hand. Well done, IF.

“Joke around the house was that Danny and I were pledged to be married.” (“In another life, this would have been romantic.”) (THIS CREEPS ME OUT THOUGH in a very personally specific triggering way as someone who spent their childhood running around with a boy that I found out later people thought was gonna “knock me up someday.” #BARF)

Colleen has a billionaire in her dojo learning how to punch on a dummy held together with duct tape because she can’t afford to fix it. (Also: Colleen's dojo is also for self-defense classes. Joy was just attacked by hatchet-wielders.)

Danny: "The hatchets won’t be a problem anymore." and then doesn’t elaborate. DANNY THAT SOUNDS SO SHADY. YOU LOOK SO SHADY RIGHT NOW.

Danny: *reaches out and touches Colleen’s hand* Colleen: *flinches back* What are you doing? DANNY. DANNY, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. You seriously have no idea how you come across. Joy is watching all this like “wow....ok.”

Danny used to fight in illegal fight clubs on his way back from K’un Lun. Along with his obtaining an illegal fake ID. New headcanon: Danny is actually super connected to the criminal underground worldwide. Mob bosses everywhere have a soft spot for him. He’s somewhere on a mission with Ward/Colleen/Defenders/HfH and acting like he knows the area, someone recognizes him and he starts chatting cheerfully with them, suddenly they’re being greeted and helped out by people deep in the black market scene while Danny bear hugs someone that most people clearly fear and his companions look on with wide eyes.

Danny, a literal billionaire: Remember how I offered to pay you six months rent for helping me out? Colleen, broke as hell: My denial stands.

Danny: So how are we gonna tell Ward? (framing them - all three of them - as a team) Joy: lmao, are we thinking about the same Ward? You want to tell the most overprotective big brother in the world that men with hatchets attacked his sister? Do you remember what he did to those bullies when we were 8?

Gao: *black bags Harold, refuses to tell him where they’re taking him, doesn’t reveal that this particular instance is him landing on the ‘good’ side of the scale until the last possible second.*

Ugh, he just puts that sword back in the scabbard with all the blood still on it? Improper blade care

Oh yeah, I guess this is the audience’s first scene showing that Harold is capable of cold-blooded murder

I notice that this article may be the front page of the business section, but is NOT the front of the newspaper. Sorry, Jennifer.

[I had initially transcribed the article here, but have made it it's own post which can be found here. Notes on the article, though: Jennifer was very kind to the Meachums in it, given what Ward was actually saying. Also, which Bulletin employee fell down on grammar checking that thing?]

Danny’s Jeri-given apartment doesn’t have a number on the door, but does have some sort of cherry blossom branches etching in the plate?

The Hatchet box!!! (congrats again @Sholio LOL) Yang Hai-Qing wants Danny to get rid of the Hand too. He wasn’t gonna mess with them, explained they didn’t know about the Hand's involvement when they went after Joy, and apologized, but then the Hand came to his restaurant and killed one of his men anyway.

Ah yes, the great tattoo reveal. Also, is that a bullet’s pucker scar on Danny’s left shoulder?

#Iron Fist #iron fist rewatch #eight diagram dragon palm #my stuff #the immortal iron fist #i am lagging so badly on this rewatch!!#but this episode literally took me all day

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

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Yellow Flowers In Your Hair (1/3)

Emma Nolan has been raised in a privileged household and has never wanted for anything other than freedom to live her life on her own terms. Her parents want that for her as well, at least to a certain extent, but when her father unexpectedly passes, Emma is left with two options: marry a man she doesn't love or lose the home filled with memories of her beloved father as well as memories of her first love, a man with blue eyes and a kind smile who left for the Navy years ago and hasn’t been home since.

But what if her first love were to come back?

Rating: Teen (for now)

a/n: Hi, hey, hello! This is based off of the two prompt game “Historical + Grief + Star-crossed lovers” and @shardminds picked it as her fic as a part of my fic giveaway! She passed up on more of Indirect Deposit for this, so, you know, I hope you all enjoy it. lol. If you know me, you know I’m a modern AU girl. This is decidedly not a modern AU, so we’ll see how this goes!

To @shardminds, you’re a sweetheart, and somehow you’re getting three parts of this story much faster than I anticipated! ❤️

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tag list: @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81

-/-

A soft breeze blows over tall blades of grass, causing them to sway and for the leaves on the trees above to shake in a quiet rustle that mutes most other sounds of nature. There are birds chirping, but they’re quiet, their songs not as beautiful and vibrant as they usually are. Somber. Emma would describe the songs as a somber melody that causes an ache in the heart as it searches for a happy tune amongst the darkness.

And yet maybe that is her own mindset. Maybe that is all in her mind’s own making. If she’s honest with herself, which she hasn’t been lately, she knows that the muted sounds and the slightly grayer sky are all in her mind. In actuality, the sky is a vibrant blue, one that painters wish to recapture in their work, and the birds are likely chirping happy tunes that one could skip to or dance to at a picnic. The sun shines brightly overhead, warm enough to coat Emma’s skin in a glow that should bring life back to her, and yet Emma still feels a chill over her flesh, little bumps rising on her arms despite the knitted coat she has hanging loosely off her shoulders.

What today is can only be described as beautifully pleasant. It is a day Emma has experienced many times in the nearly twenty-four years of her life, and while otherwise it should be a normal day where she rides her horse or spends her afternoon in the study reading one of the novels her father has brought back for her from his travels or simply from a trip to the market, today is anything but a normal day in her life.

Today is very much the worst day of her life, and she is so overcome with grief that she is not sure if her mind has even been able to wrap around it all.

Truthfully, though, Emma may not be able to wrap her mind around today being the worst day of her life because she has spent the last six years thinking that another day was the worst day of her life. She has spent six years replaying the day where Killian walked off of the estate to travel to the Naval base where he enlisted, and having that day not be the worst is…unimaginable even though her heart has never been more broken than it is in this moment.

Everything about that day is still so clear in her mind. Her memories can replay the sad curve of Killian’s lips that quickly turned into a reassuring smile when the tears started to fall from her eyes. The blue of Killian’s eyes and the way they sparkled in the sunlight, the complete lack of stubble on his face, the new cut of his hair, the deep accent of his voice that was so different than how it sounded when he was becoming the man that he is - it is all so clear in her mind even though it is a distant memory.

She misses him. She misses the way that he’d sneak her apples from the orchard as if they were not already owned by her family. She misses the way that he’d sneak away from work to come sit by her at the lake, the two of them talking until he absolutely had to go back. He used to always say he was simply doing a bit of gardening, and while he would occasionally pick a yellow flower for her, there was no gardening involved.

They always were weeds and not flowers anyhow, but Emma has found that she has a fondness for pretty things that most people deem unworthy because they are not expensive or proper things.

She misses his laugh and the way his skin looked under the sunlight, especially after a summer of Killian spending his days outside. She misses the way his lips felt against hers in stolen kisses that had her cheeks painted red and a constant smile painted on her mouth even when she was supposed to be looking serious.

She misses every little thing about him, and she’s been counting the days he’s been gone. He told her that he would wait for her, that not a day would go by where he would not think of her, and he asked her if she would do the same.

Of course, she would. She has, even if she knows that in reality, her parents would never allow her to marry someone who is under their employ. She is supposed to marry a man of status, of worth equal to that of hers if not more.

Status has never been much of one for love.

To hell with status and being proper when she has never been one for conventional methods and traditions anyways. Growing up with Killian by her side likely aided in that.

Emma always thought that the day that Killian left would be the hardest day of her life.

She never assumed that it would be eclipsed by the death of her father if only because her father has been too young and healthy to die.

And yet, he has.

She…can’t. It’s not real. This isn’t real. She loves him too much for him to be gone.

Her mother had been sitting in the parlor knitting, something she always seems to be doing, and Emma was gardening by the front gate, something she always seems to be doing as well.

(The senior Mr. Jones is no longer around to work, replaced by new grounds-keep, but everyone always seems to forget the flowers in the front. Killian never did, and neither will Emma.)

Everything had been normal, happy, and when Emma saw Will Scarlet walking toward their front gate, she thought nothing of it other than that he was here to see Belle. The two of them have been courting, so he’s been around quite often. But the melancholy look on his face immediately told her that he was not at the house to see the woman he fancied, and when he very quietly told Emma that there had been an accident, her heart plummeted into her stomach as her legs crumpled under her dress.

No.

The scream she emitted still echoes in her mind, the shrill hoarseness and utter heartbreak written there, but nothing will ever compare to the way her mother had collapsed when she heard the news. Her mother, who despite all of her shortcomings in understanding that Emma does not want to be a proper lady whose only purpose in life is to serve her husband, is a wonderful woman full of strength, love, and hope for a good life. Her mother who Emma very much loves and her mother who was very much in love with her father.

Emma thought Killian leaving to provide for himself was the hardest day, was a loss that nothing could be compared to, but there is nothing as eternal as death.

Mary Margaret Nolan, a woman who has done nothing in her life except love everyone around her, especially her beloved husband, David Nolan, lost everything on a day that was just like any other.

The love her parents have for each other…or rather the love that they had, is the love that Emma always strived for. When she went into town or talked with her school friends about their parents, most of them talked of them sleeping in different bedrooms or not talking at the breakfast table. Many even mentioned the maids that their fathers would sleep with.

Not David and Mary Margaret Nolan.

They always slept in the same bedroom, in the same bed actually, and as long as her father was not traveling for work, they sat next to each other at the breakfast table chatting and laughing and being genuinely happy. Her father knew how her mother took her tea, and her mother knew that her father enjoyed having the hair at his neck scratched.

It was genuine love in a world where marrying someone of equal or better stature is more important than marrying someone who makes you happy, and their love is exactly why Emma grew up believing in it, even if she did have a few doubts about it all.

Just because she is the product of genuine love doesn’t mean she was guaranteed to find it.

But she did, and he’s gone now as well.

The loss of the two most wonderful men in her life has painted the blue sky gray, but today, her paintbrush is covered in black.

Her beloved papa is dead, and all she wants in this world is to hold him and have him hold her as well, staying as the warm and steady presence who has guided her life.

-/-

“Mother, do you want to go for a ride this afternoon?”

Emma asks the question, but she doesn’t get much of a reply, a non-committal hum as Mary Margaret stirs her tea in her cup and picks at her muffin that Granny baked for them this morning.

“I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” Emma sighs, grabbing a muffin herself and plopping herself down on a stool at the kitchen table. “The weather is so nice outside today, and it’ll be good to get some exercise in – for us and the horses. We can even take a picnic. You can pick a book, and I’ll read it to you.”

There’s still no reply, her mother’s focus on her tea intense, and it’s starting to grate on Emma’s nerves. It’s been three months since her father died, and while it has been anything but easy, a bit of color is repainted into their lives every day.

But damn if Emma isn’t tired of playing the part of a proper daughter when her mother sometimes doesn’t even pay attention to her. It’s usually only in the mornings, Mary Margaret returning to her normal chipper self as the sun continues to rise in the sky, and even if it is selfish, Emma would like to be able to do something happy for once.

Today is already a particularly hard day for her as she received news that Liam Jones had been married, and she did not receive an invitation to the wedding. It’s fine, not that big of an insult, except that Liam once worked for them and lived on their property.

Oh, and the fact that Liam Jones very much knows that Emma was involved with his brother.

No one else knew except for Liam and possibly Emma’s maid, Ruby, as her parents forbade her to court with anyone they did not pick for her – which very much seems the opposite of what they should have done with their true love – and she expected to at least receive an invitation to the wedding ceremony.

That is not what hurts her, however. What hurts her is the thought of Killian being within miles of her and not coming to see her.

How could he do that?

Emma is not even sure that he was there, she has no reason to think that he wouldn’t come to see her, but her mind has begun to imagine every scenario. Over the months, she has told herself that she will not think of how sad missing Killian makes her because the pain of the loss of her father is worse, and yet thoughts of him still manages to creep into the corners of the pages of her mind.

So, today she needs her mother to be her mother, to be her friend. She needs the two of them to have a nice day together and then maybe return home and invite Granny and Ruby to sit with them at dinner.

Ruby has been her closest companion throughout everything, and if she can make Mary Margaret laugh in the way that she makes Emma laugh, it will be a good dinner indeed.

“Mother? Shall I go prepare the horses?”

Mary Margaret finally blinks up at her, her lips downturned, and Emma’s heart sinks into her stomach once more. It may as well take up permanent residence there lately. This morning is very obviously a bad one for her mother.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret sighs, placing her cup of tea down onto the table, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes – I mean, no.” Her mother sighs again before straightening her back and plastering a very obviously forced smile on her face. “I received notice two days ago that we could lose the house and all of the land. I don’t know how this slipped my mind, but it did. I was too…after I…my mind has been muddled with other thoughts, and I didn’t think about the fact that we are not allowed to own land.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re women, sweetheart.”

The words click in Emma’s mind, and while her heart has still dropped, it’s beating much more quickly now. The realization as to what her mother is saying causes rage to boil inside of her, and suddenly riding off into the woods on her horse sounds like the best option for her to do.

“No,” Emma protests, shaking her head as she angrily rips the covering on the muffin before tossing the pieces onto the table. “Fuck no.”

“Language,” Mary Margaret gasps as if that is the worst thing to be happening in this moment.

“What at all does my language matter, Mummy?” Emma groans, slapping her hands against her thighs before curling her fingers around the material of her dress so that her knuckles turn white. “What does it matter about being proper when we are going to lose our home simply because we were not born as men? What about a cock makes a man superior to me?”

“Emma!”

Emma rolls her eyes, knowing that she’s probably mortifying her mother but not caring. Her mother knows that Emma is right, but the language is obviously what is doing her in.

“We can’t lose the house. We can’t. There has to be some way. Papa’s memory is painted all over this place. When I walk into this kitchen, I see the two of you smiling and talking to each other as you drink your tea. When I go into the study, I see him reading me a book, using all of his voices to make me laugh even if it made you roll your eyes. When I walk up the stairs and my foot touches the step that creaks, I remember him telling me that it was simply the house speaking back telling me how glad it was that we were all home. I can’t – we can’t – ”

The words disappear from her as a sob overwhelms her, clogging her throat and making the air escape from her body. She can’t breathe. She can’t. It’s too hard to breathe in the air of this home and the familiar smell that is so uniquely her family because soon she will not be able to breathe in this scent.

No. No. No.

Tears sting in her eyes, and while she manages to regain some air flow, everything that she sees is through the tear-stained lenses that her mother has been wearing for months now.

How is it that she has already lost nearly everything and yet the feelings of anguish do not come until now?

Slight arms wrap around her, and Emma would know the slight arms of her mother anywhere. She would know that scent of her, the warmth. She would know everything, and despite the fact that Emma is going to ruin her mother’s dress, she presses her face into her shoulder and sobs as Mary Margaret runs her hands up and down Emma’s back.

“We’re not going to lose the house, Emma,” she promises. “There are ways around it.”

“What possible ways are there around it? We cannot suddenly become men.”

“But I can marry one.”

Emma’s head immediately rises from her mother’s shoulder, and after blinking away the tears, she finally sees the way her mother’s cheeks are faintly stained with the path of tears this morning as well.

“Mummy, no,” Emma protests, reaching up to cup her mother’s cheeks. “You can’t.”

Mary Margaret sadly nods her head. “I have to. It’s not love, but it will be a way for us to keep the house. I have already found a man, a wealthy man, who is willing, and I – ”

“I’ll get married,” she blurts out, the words rolling off of her tongue without her realizing the repercussions of them. “I am getting older. I’d have to be married soon anyhow, and I am the heir to the Nolan estate. If I’m married, it goes to my husband, and we can keep the house and have a place to live. You loved Papa too much to marry someone else, especially when you still sleep with his shirts.”

Emma thought the only man she would ever marry would be Killian, but if these are their options, Emma will be the one to make the sacrifice.

Killian may never come back anyhow. It’s been years, and the waiting may never end.

Saving her mother is the most important thing right now.

Saving her family.

-/-

The man she is to marry is named Neal Cassidy, son of banker Robert Cassidy.

He is perfectly nice, if not boring and a tad bit too…brutish for Emma. He’s not harsh or violent, of course, but he does believe that a woman is better to be seen and not heard. To him, she is nothing but a pretty thing to keep on his arm, and Emma knows it. It sends a shiver down her spine and makes her blood heat in her veins, but there is nothing she can do about it.

This is the only way to save their home and to save her mother from more heartbreak.

If she has to marry Neal Cassidy, she will.

They will probably never be in love, but she doesn’t want to be in love with him. And as long as she is able to spend time with her mother and her friends without him keeping her away, that is fine with her.

It is not the life she grew up imagining, but life never does seem to go to the plan of a woman when the world is designed for them not to be treated the same as a man.

-/-

The lawyers and bankers give them an additional two months of staying in the house when they find out Emma is engaged to be married. It’s not much, but it’s more than enough as summer fades away and the leaves begin to change colors before falling to the ground. The blue skies that were around all summer, filling Emma with the slightest bit of hope, have morphed into the shades of gray she was imagining.

Her imagination has very much become her reality as Ruby and her mother tie her corset to make Emma lose all of her breath with her ribs being crushed so tightly.

She never has been one to wear a corset on a daily basis, and on the occasions that she does, it is usually miserable.

Today, on her wedding day, it is much worse.

That also may have to do with how much Emma doesn’t want to get married, but she is holding that secret closer to her heart.

The dress she is wearing is long and covered in white satin with a bit of lace that falls off of her sleeves. Every bit of her is covered, which feels unnatural, and autumn flowers of colors orange and yellow are threaded into the plait of her hair as makeup is painted onto her skin and her lips. She looks beautiful even if she doesn’t feel that way, and she’s sure that everyone at the church will think the same.

It does not matter to her, but it matters to society.

After all of her preparations are finished, including a conversation about the marriage bed that Emma most definitely does not need to have with her mother, the two of them load up into the carriage that Mr. Cassidy has provided for them and begin their ride to the church in the center of town. Emma stares out the window the entire time, watching buildings and people go by, and while she knows that it’s not true, she feels as if her own freedom is disappearing when this is the only way for her to keep that freedom.

Reaching for her mother, Emma intertwines their fingers and squeezes, needing reassurance and a reminder of why she’s doing this, before looking out the window again.

And that’s when she sees him.

“Stop the carriage,” Emma screams out to the driver up front, and within seconds the horses slow down in their speed, the gravel not crunching as loudly underneath their hoofs.

“Emma, what are you doing?”

“I,” she starts, but she doesn’t know the words to finish her sentence. “I need to get some fresh air outside of the carriage.”

“We’ll be late for the wedding.”

Damn the wedding, she thinks.

“I’ll only be a moment,” she says instead before opening the carriage door and stepping out on her own, knowing that she’s stepped on her gown.

He hasn’t seen her yet, but she’s most definitely seen him.

He’s…different than before. His shoulders are much broader, the body under his clothes obviously more muscled, and the angle of his jawline is sharp enough to cut skin. He’s also covered in scruff. He used to be before, of course, but it was more in patches and his father would often make him shave. His hair is shorter, more clean cut, and she likes the way that it looks over the top of his Naval uniform.

And with everything that’s different, she knows that the blue of his eyes and the brightness of his smile are going to be the same. How could they ever be diminished?

“Killian,” she whispers, her voice unable to get any louder than that.

If it were anyone else, she knows that he wouldn’t have heard her, but he turns to look at her with parted lips and widened eyes that have tears already forming in Emma’s.

This is all a dream. It has to be. It’s been nearly seven years now, and while she had received letters years ago, ones she had passed off as being nothing more than friendly communication, she has never been able to send one in return since his location seemed to always be changing. She always sent them anyways, hoping that he would somehow receive one, but she had no indication that he ever did.

She was always too afraid to ask Liam.

“Emma.”

His voice is exactly the same, still that low, deep timber, and it sends shivers down her spine as she picks up the bottom of her dress and walks forward until she’s colliding into the firmness of his body, her arms wrapping around his neck and his arms wrapping around her waist. He’s different. His body feels and smells different, but there is an undeniable warmth that could never change and could never be replicated.

“Did you miss me?” Killian chuckles into her neck, his breath warm against her skin, and it only makes her embrace him more tightly.

She cannot breathe, and there is no telling if that’s because of how undeniably ecstatic she is or if it is because of the corset she’s wearing.

The corset.

Underneath her wedding dress.

Oh fuck.

She’s supposed to be getting married in under an hour.

Can she even do that anymore?

“Every single day of my life, it feels like,” she whispers back, pulling back so that her hands can cup his cheeks, fingers tracing underneath his eyelids so that she can study him. There’s a scar on his cheek now. That wasn’t there before. “Where have you been?”

“Everywhere, I believe,” he laughs, that same wonderful laugh. “I’ve been in America for the past two years, but I was in France for a little while, Denmark before that. It’s been a whirlwind, Emma, and I want to tell you about it all later. I – ”

His eyes seem to finally take in her appearance – the makeup, intricate hair, white veil, and the very telling white gown that she very much wishes would burn up into flames right now for the way that it makes the blue of Killian’s eyes dull into a gray that she never wants to see again.

“I,” he repeats, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “I returned home yesterday. Liam has gotten married a few months prior, you see, and he’s offered me work in the shipping business that his wife’s father owns. I wanted to come and see you as fast as I could, but then…I heard about your father, love. I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes flutter, lashes blinking away the tears, and Emma can practically feel her mother’s gaze on her behind her back.

“I am as well,” Emma sighs, her happiness continuing to fade away. “I miss him every day.”

“I imagine you’d want him here today especially.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Killian blinks his eyes closed, his long, dark lashes landing against his tanned cheeks before he shakes his head the slightest bit. “Why, it is apparently your wedding day, my love.”

#yellow flowers in your hair #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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