i used to have a semblance of a life before this movie

BTS You Never Walk Alone - Spring Day MV Theory: The Untold Story

by: @sugasuite (edited: 170222 for pt 7)

Whose story is often unheard and untold?

The Discriminated… The Minorities…

When Kim Namjoon said You Never Walk Alone was the Untold Story… He wasn’t kidding. BigHit has done it again! Though this MV also fit the story of the boys’ journey, they still managed to discuss an underlying controversial issue.

SYMBOLISMS:

1.     OMELAS: DISCRIMINATION OF THE WEAK

In case you haven’t read the story… Here is a rundown

First of all, let me say, this story is riveting in both its simplicity and complexity; and you could finish it in less than 15 minutes. The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas is an award winning short story written by Ursula Le Guin. The story starts with the narrator describing a utopian place called Omelas as the Summer Festival starts. Everything about the city is idealistic and the narrator even invites the reader to imagine his/her own utopian scenario and imagine that to be Omelas because Omelas’ perfection and happiness was hard to simply describe. The narrator claims that the people of Omelas were not stupid, that this was not the reason why they were happy, but he also states that the people of Omelas lived without guilt.

As vague and hard as it was for the narrator to describe Omelas, her description of the small, frail impoverished child was vivid. People of Omelas knew about the child’s existence, locked in a small basement but none of them helped or saved the child. The narrator believes that the child served as reminder for the people of a world opposite to what they have. The absence of the child makes what they have pointless and therefore the child’s existence was poignant for their system.

The more incredible part though, the part that got the narrator amazed, were the people who left Omelas. Those who chose to walk alone away from the surfaced perfection toward the unknown when they have seen the child.

In the MV you can see how their initial excitement of being in Omelas slowly changed. As if taking in what Omelas truly was. 

Kookie goes to the desolate Omelas where ironically the No Vacancy sign was still lit. Like how minorities are refused entry when clearly there is still room. 

In the end, unlike in the book where the citizens who face the realities of Omelas left alone, they all left Omelas together.


2.     Snow Piercer: DISCRIMINATION OF THE CLASSES


Snowpiercer was a movie released in 2013. in the movie, the world was set into an infernal winter after an experiment to solve global warming backfires. The remaining survivors were those on board the Snowpiercer. By 2031, segregation was eminent. Elites inhabit the extravagant front cars and the “scum” inhabit the tail in squalid and brutal conditions. Under watch by guards, they are brought only gelatinous protein bars to eat and kept in their place in the social order by Minister Mason, while sometimes small children are taken away.

RICH SECTION:

POOR SECTION:

Kinda Hunger Games-ish huh?

Rebellion broke out because it seemed like the oppressed have finally had enough. Many died due to the rebellious attacks and the head of the keeper of the peace for the Snowpiercer told the leader of the revolution that it was he who planned the rebellion to reduce the population and maintain the balance of the sealed ecosystem, and subsequently orders the elimination of 74% of the remaining tail passengers. He explains the importance of using fear and chaos to maintain a necessary order and leadership on the train.

The leader of the revolution almost accepted the offer of the head peace keeper to lead what remained of the Snowpiercer but decided to continue the fight when he learned that small children from the tail section are being trapped as replacement parts for “extinct” machinery and that those in the tail section were literally being kept alive for spare parts.

In the end, an explosion happens that causes an avalanche. The train gets derailed and only two survive, one girl and one boy. They alight the train and see a polar. They learn that life was actually possible outside the oppressive train.

In the MV, Kookie and RM is shown riding the train but they keep entering the doors at the back. The train traverses a snowy terrain.

When the line stops, they all go down together and see a dying tree amidst a grassy field. It was the only semblance of life present, but it was enough to hang their shoe on it and mark the place as theirs.


3.     Safety Pin Earrings: FIGHT AGAINST DISCRIMINATION

“#Safetypin I’m an ally… All those exposed to hate and violence, you’re not alone….”

No, it’s not a fashion statement, there is a deeper meaning.


4.     Laundromat/ Segregation: RACIAL DISCRIMINATION

Honestly, where else can the term segregation be used that seems publicly acceptable?

Whites separated from colored.

This reminded me of a racial case I studied in law school, Yick Wo vs Hopkins 118 U.S. 356 (1886) (Who the F? would have thought I’d use that shit here?) 

The immigration of Chinese to California began in 1850 at the beginning of the Gold Rush. As the Chinese became more successful, tensions with Americans grew. Californians were wary of the cultural and ethnic differences.

Yick Wo, was a laundry facility owned by Sang Lee. After twenty years of owning the facility as an undocumented immigrant, provisions set out by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors said that he could not continue to run his business due to an ordinance that was evidently racially targeted against all Chinese business owners.

This case was the first case where the United States Supreme Court ruled that a law that is race-neutral on its face, but is administered in a prejudicial manner, is an infringement of the Equal Protection Clause in the Fourteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.

In the MV you can see that the blacks and whites inside were mixed. Whites, Blacks, toss it in! They’re one and the same.


5.     Mountain of Clothes: ALL EQUAL!

In 2010, Christian Boltanski created a 40-foot-tall art installation at the Park Avenue Armory.

For Boltanski, clothes are simply a placeholder for 6000 real human beings who lived real lives. He told a journalist, “In my work there have always been a lot of photos of people, heartbeats of people—for me the clothing are people.” The magnitude of the pile illustrates the heaviness of all the hearts now lost.

In this work, Boltanski said that the mountain was an eternal afterlife of sorts, where every individual rests after death. In Boltanski’s view, we are all mixed together in death, no longer the distinct individuals we were in life. We become part of a great pile, individual pieces that have lost their minute details — a single, colossal entity.

This piece of art has been made in various cities all over the world.

BTS made themselves part of this mountain, a symbol of unity in lives lost due to discrimination.


6.     Nods to the Sewol Ferry Tragedy: INJUSTICE

So many questions about these shoes. What I know… Jimin picked it up from the shore… and looked pale, kinda like he drowned.

It could honestly have so many meanings…

But given that this is an injustice close to their hearts, they might be giving nods to the Sewol Ferry tragedy.

The Sewol Ferry was a passenger ferry that capsized on 16 April 2014, killing 304 of the 476 people on board. More than 300 passengers were Danwon High School pupils on an organised trip, but only 75 students survived.

Months later, the captain of the ferry escaped the death penalty and has instead been sentenced to 36 years in jail for his role in the tragedy. 

Prosecutors had demanded the death penalty and before the trial even started, President Park Geun-hye made a public statement condemning the crew’s action, saying that their decision to abandon ship had been “tantamount to murder”. The sentence means that the captain, aged 69, is likely to spend the rest of life in jail.

In December 2016, it was brought to light that 9000 artists were discriminated and blacklisted for criticizing the government and having a dissenting opinion in the Sewol case. In January, media leaked that Bangtan and Bighit donated money to the families of the Sewol family victims.

In the end of the video, Jimin is again looking sullen and holding the shoes.He was looking at the tree as if deciding what to do with it.

Another symbolism with a lot of interpretations in the video is the “shoes on the wire”. One other possible meaning for this is to give honor to the memory of a life lost.


7. The Yellow Ribbon: Symbol of Hope and Unity

The yellow ribbon has been used as a symbol of hope all over the world for a multitude of causes. From the desire for the return of American hostages held in Tehran between 1979 and 1981 to a fight against a dictatorship from a 21 year long regime in the Philippines in 1986. 

The L finger symbol stood for the Filipino word “LABAN” which means FIGHT

For some it became a symbol of home coming and being reunited, hence the famous English song with lines that go, “Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree”. It symbolizes the hope of freedom, justice and return. This yellow ribbon has held different meanings to different groups of people but in all those times, it served one purpose, to be a symbol of unity for those part of a cause.

In South Korea, the yellow ribbon started as a symbol of hope for the return of 9 missing children from the Sewol Ferry Tragedy but it slowly grew to be more than that. It served as a reminder that the families that sought justice did not stand alone. The government slowly saw this as a symbol of rebellion and defiance. In truth, it sent a silent but unified message against the people who were the source of the injustice committed. 

In the MV, you see Kookie having sole awareness (my obnoxious way of saying he was dead ass staring at the camera) while everyone was a moving blur.

After a while, he seemed to slowly realize that everyone else was moving around him and he joins the crowd.

Two possible meanings. First, the pessimistic view, is that Kookie was the one aware of the issues but no one else was. Everyone else was going about their own business and eventually Kookie joined the crowd…

The second possible meaning? The one I prefer. The more optimistic view, is that due to the movement of everyone around him, Kookie became aware of the need to move and act and joined the movement for the yellow ribbon cause.

Though sometimes you feel like you stand alone in the crowd fighting for something… look around, look closely… there are more people who understand your plight. Never stop moving. Eventually, if your cause is truly powerful, more people will move with you.


CONCLUSION!

Bangtan’s message was clear. For those who suffered injustice or have been discriminated against for being part of a minority, we know your untold stories. Your road may be unknown but YOU NEVER WALK ALONE


From the Book: The Ones who Walk Away from Omelas

Each one goes alone, youth or girl man or woman. Night falls; the traveler must pass down village streets, between the houses with yellow-lit windows, and on out into the darkness of the fields. Each alone, they go west or north, towards the mountains. 

“They go on. They leave Omelas, they walk ahead into the darkness, and they do not come back. The place they go towards is a place even less imaginable to most of us than the city of happiness. I cannot describe it at all. It is possible that it does not exist. But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas.

From The Movie Inception:

Cobb: You’re waiting for a train. A train that’ll take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you. But you can’t know for sure. Yet it doesn’t matter. Now, tell me why? 
Mal: Because we’ll be together! 

See the difference? :)

vernon; the boy next door (m)

genre/warnings: fluff/romance/smut, flangst, adorkableness, use of non-penetrative sex toys, (not so) dry humping

word count:  14737

feat: Hansol Vernon Chwe/Original Female, Joshua, Jeonghan + various 

prompts: roommate!Vernon, silliness, cuddles, mac n’cheese = love 

(a/n) my birthday project for my muse. thank you for everything vern:) and kisses for @vernkn​ who gifed my soft sweater vernon aesthetic. enjoy!

She loved Joshua Hong.

When she was so graciously offered to live in her aunt’s vacation penthouse close to her university of choice, the only catch was that she had to pay some of the bills. Completely fair, because it was a kind enough gesture to give away a freshly furnished space to a niece you barely talked to. Luckily, there was enough room for another guest, enough to split the rent.

So in comes the savior of her life, brother from another mother, Joshua Hong, decked out in sandy beige Sperry’s and ironed white jeans. Fresh from South California, he wore their sunshine on his smile, and their attitude in his Cheshire eyes. He was attending the same university as well, and was conveniently looking for a means to stay. Needless to say, she pounced on him at orientation before he could ask anyone else.

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anonymous asked:

Dean has been trying to be open with Cas, telling him he's worried, we're better together and Cas doesn't really respond except with what could be called flippancy saying I didn't mean to add to your burden or betrays him again. So it's not that Dean needs to open his mouth, it's that when he does, he's shut down. This happens a lot in the series with other people too and I think we undervalue how much that shapes Dean's willingness to open up. As in, I think we often ignore it completely.

This is an interesting point, and the thing is, we’ve come so far in this ‘haha, we’re not describing a relationship, #no homo’ thing that the tropes of the genre have started to have an impact on the actual narrative of the show. Like, one of the main reason I don’t like romance movies is the lack of clear communication between the two main characters. I mostly hate it in its classic ‘chick flick’ form - ie, a woman going on and on with her girlfriends about how perfect this guy is and being encouraged to do all sort of ridiculous things to catch his attention rather than just talk to him - but if the movie is not subtle, I’m even capable of hating those pregnant ‘I wish I could come out and say it, but I’m too manly to’ pauses because, come on. Sometimes I truly find romance movies are the plague of our societies and are way, way more dangerous than horror or violence or whatever, simply because they set a model of behaviour for situations we actually encounter IRL - and the idea that we can’t communicate openly and honestly with each other, especially in a romantic relationship, is often at the centre of whatever demented story they’re telling.

Anyway.

I guess this is to say that miscommunicaton is a classic romantic trope and the most usual way to keep lovers apart (short of, let’s say, family obligations, mind control spells and terminal illnesses - not that Supernatural has used any of those, of course), which means neither Dean nor Cas are, at this point, to blame for any of it. It’s simply how the narrative goes, and one of the most tried-and-tested ways to preserve some semblance of UST and will they won’t they even in those circumstances where it’s very clear that yeah, they will. 

You say Dean’s been opening up, has been clear about what he wants, and that’s true. Dean’s been incredibly direct this season (and the last), not only with Cas, but with Sam and Mary as well. I think it’s unfair, though, to say we ignore it - some days, it seems we talk about little else: performing!Dean walls coming down, that’s a huge bout of character development, especially considering Dean’s worst fear is people leaving him, and, well - if you don’t come clean to someone, if you don’t tell them how much they mean to you, then you can hold on to the illusion they left because they didn’t realize how much they would hurt you - but if you’re clear about your feelings and you do your best and they still leave - ouch. Dean’s faced this dilemma with both Mary and Cas this season, and basically lost both times. His ideas of creating some kind of patchwork family - all of them safe, happy, and living right there in the Bunker where Dean can keep an eye on them and protect them - yeah, that didn’t work. Despite the unusually honest conversations he had with them, both Mary and Cas continue to do their own thing without much regard for Dean’s feelings - and I feel like I need to stress it’s not only a character’s ‘fault’, but a narrative need: to keep Dean on edge, and to make him miserable.

Something else we need to consider is that Cas is new to humanity and sees things from a completely different perspective. To him, human feelings are - well, not irrelevant, but I think he sees them as something so complicated and changeable that it’s not really worth analyzing them. Like, consider his impatience when Dean asked for help in how to deal with Mary - Cas is millions of years old. Planning a conversation, however life-changing that conversation may feel in the moment, is completely irrelevant on the long term - a speck of meaning against the backdrop of eternity, or even of a human life. When he shuts Dean down, he’s not saying he doesn’t care about Dean feelings; he’s saying everything will sort itself out, and why do humans always stress so much about such small and transient things? It makes no sense. Oh, and another thing that presumably makes no sense to him is Dean’s worry over him - Cas was created to obey and walk into battle and die, if necessary - nobody’s worried about his happiness or wellbeing for thousands of years - why would Dean? Cas is an angel - Cas is the (self-appointed) Winchester’s guardian - not the other way around. I know they keep telling him they care (sort of), but, again, different species here. And Cas also knows, because he’s seen it, that (unlike angels) humans are built to withstand grief and loss - that both Dean and Sam have done it, several times (that despite everything they’ve endured, they can still be sort of happy). To him, his own death is perhaps a matter of regret, of things unfinished, but certainly not something that’ll hurt either Sam or Dean in any definitive way - which is why he prefers to be out on the field and keep them safe, rather than staying close to them and avoid danger.

Finally, something about the mixtape scene. 

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anonymous asked:

Ok, I'm absolutely in love with your persuasion au. I didn't know how much I needed something like this until I read it. It's a treasure. Thank you SO MUCH for it! Can I ask you why do you ship rebelcaptain? as a deep question, I just want to read your thoughts about them 'cause you write so well

First, thank you for the compliment on my Persuasion AU! I’m glad you like it! And I’m going to get working on the next chapter of it now that I’ve written this 1,400+ word treatise I wrote on rebelcaptain because of your question lol.

Chemistry

Diego Luna and Felicity Jones have and had amazing chemistry as Jyn and Cassian. The eye contact, the lack of personal space, and the passion they conveyed as their characters with and without words was really impressive. Even when Jyn and Cassian were arguing and angry with one another, you got the sense that they fought as they did because the other person mattered. Their arguments are never about romance, but they were about the important basics of any relationship, romantic or platonic: truth, trust, faith, belief, and how you choose to act (or whether you choose to act at all).

But their chemistry isn’t just sexual or romantic. They also have chemistry as a battle duo. They work together well almost instantly. When she’s sporting for a fight on Jedha, he knows exactly when to pull her back. When a Partisan bomb is about to blow her to bits, he saves her—it’s not a question. On Scarif, they seem in sync the whole time from when she gives her speech to when they die together on the beach. They don’t question the other because there’s implicit trust and they seem to instinctively understand that what the other person is doing is the right or best way. They’re on the same page if you will.

Individually and Individuality

I love them as individual characters. They are my murder son and my murder daughter.
They both have defined and deep character arcs in the movie, and they grow because of it. They act as catalysts for the other for the change to come. They grow because they met each other, and they do so in the platonic sense.

Jyn’s forced herself into apathy because she’s been hurt, abandoned, and traumatized by “the cause” and the battle between the Rebels and the Empire. She lost both her parents. She was abandoned by her foster parent. She was stripped of anything that ever felt safe, that felt like home. The passion and fight intrinsic to her personality was temporarily snuffed out. She’s given so much but what has she gotten back but misery? She now only fights for herself. But meeting and knowing Cassian reawakens that passion and drive in her. The catalyst moment is when he gives her his trust on the U-wing to Jedha, and it builds from there. He pushes back against her resistance, and where others may have not cared enough to do that, he does, and that fight wakes her up again. Then he offers her a home and a family in him (and Kaytoo, Baze, Chirrut, and Bodhi). Thet cause, which has only taken from her, has given her something back. It has given her people she cares about and who care for her to fight for.

For Cassian, after 20 years of war, I think part of what traps him in this prison of his own making is that he feels like he’s fighting for abstractions now. He’s lost everything and everyone he cares about. There’s only the cause, and it’s made him do terrible things that have been cutting him into little pieces. But then he meets Jyn, and she’s not an abstraction. But it’s not love or love for her that acts as a catalyst for his change: it’s her inner fire. I think he sees in her what he used to see in himself. It reminds him of what he’s fighting for, in part, too, because he sees the tremendous losses she has also suffered at the hands of the fight. In her push to go to Scarif, she also gives him a specific way he can justify everything he has done as a soldier. And like it is for Jyn, I think Cassian finds himself now with people he cares for specifically, people for whom he fights (aka the found family he has personally collected over the course of a week).

Complementary Personalities

I like the idea of opposites attract, but I love more the idea of complementary personalities who share a lot of similarities. I think Jyn and Cassian fit this bill. They’re both orphaned child soldiers (essentially). They’re both passionate fighters. They are iron-willed, confident, resolute, and strong people. They’re different enough, though, that they can balance the other out.

They are complete people when they meet—there’s no need for one to “complete the other”; it’s rather like I argue above, that parts of them have gone dormant, and meeting each other brings them back to life; they fill in the cracks.
And they are equals. There’s no power differential. Sometimes he takes lead. Sometimes she does. They’re a team. It’s beautiful.

Intimacy

The intimacy between these two characters scrambles my brain, to be honest. The first time I saw the movie, it didn’t hit me until late (HI, ELEVATOR SCENE), but it hit me hard when it did. The intimacy in that elevator scene goddamit it—it made everything click for me. Not just the shipping but like, the wholeness of their character arcs. They are both initially cast as loners who guard themselves really closely from others—from affection, from attachment, from any ties to another living thing. But in that elevator scene, it’s all there flashing in their faces. For the first time, Jyn looks soft and lost as he stares at him in the darkened space, a whole future they won’t get to live flashing before her eyes. For him, he looks at her like she’s the only person in the galaxy that matters, and for him too, it’s colored by this sadness of what if. How long has it been since he’s been touched like this? When was the last time he had someone he could love before now?

With the idea of intimacy, too, I would argue that they both let their guard down around one another in a way they don’t with anyone else. Cassian is supposed to be this cool-headed, seasoned solider and spy, but he meets Jyn and is almost immediately running around, disobeying orders, screaming her name, saving her at all cost to his own life and to the cause. Maybe this is how he’s always felt about things, but he’s been able to push it all down before. He can’t with her. She’s triggered something in him that makes him feel. Jyn can also read him like no one else can. He’s an open book in her hands.

And for Jyn, because he’s shown her the first semblance of trust in years, the fact that he just refuses to ever leave her behind, opens her up. Even with Saw, she puts on this air of “don’t care” (“It’s not a problem if you don’t look up”). Again, the personal space issues! The touching and closeness (she touches his arm when they get the clearance to enter Scarif; she notes how he smells [of blaster oil and Eadu dirt]; elevator, beach, he’s the most beautiful person she’s ever seen etc etc.).

He makes her care about someone again because he cares for her. If you watch the scene on the beach when they hold hands—note how Jyn reaches for his hand first. But when she does, it’s tentative and unsure. He senses her hesitation and then he reaches out and takes it.
And the hug to end all hugs. I can’t even.

Unrealized potential

With most of what I ship, it’s usually the unrealized potential that sets my brain on fire. I love a good established couple (Baze and Chirrut) but because they seem to have had their happiness or their happy ending, it doesn’t tug at the heart strings as hard. I don’t actively ship because I don’t have to wonder. To quote one of my favorite shows, Veronica Mars:

Veronica: Come on. Ruined lives? Bloodshed? You really think a relationship should be that hard?

Logan: No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.

And I still contend that I’d ship them just as hard if they had survived and the ending of Rogue One hadn’t given us an explicitly romantic ending (kissing, declarations) because it would still be unrealized potential. Their deaths just make it more tragic and force more sad whale noises from my mouth.
The Freshman: Problematic Love Interests

So, ya’ll know how rough the last chapter of The Freshman was yesterday. Nearly everyone in the chapter was at their max level of craziness…particularly the love interests. In fact, I was so frustrated with some of their behaviors that I decided I had to get some things off my chest. Hence, this post came to be.

Forgive my snarkiness and general agitated tone here…I’m much less aggravated than I was last night. Let’s just be thankful I gave myself a day to relax before sharing these thoughts!

Okay, let’s get started. 

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How Could You Love Me

The next chapter of the Everyone Needs Some Love series that I hijacked from @justwritingscibbles

Originally posted by treblegirl

You looked around the room, trying to understand what was happening. Four men and one floating head with a pink moustache were in the room with you, all with the same face, and you were wearing nothing but a towel under your blanket.
Honestly, the situation looked like the beginning of one those movies children weren’t allowed to watch.

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quiescent (post gotg vol. 2 fic)

After everything - Nebula, Ego, those few awful minutes where she was sure Peter was dead - Gamora has a lot to think about. Preferably while using Peter as an exhausted but willing pillow.

(Alternately  I went into this movie expecting an amazing time and came out BRUTALLY DESTROYED BY FEELINGS.)

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i’ll put a flower in your hair
  • yixing / fluff / pg / 1.5k words
  • summary: you’re visiting your countryside hometown with a childhood friend you haven’t seen for years
  • a/n: i’ve been reading his autobiography and this just happened idk

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Historical Movie Recommendations

I know that I promised an X Company post a few weeks ago, and I swear that I am working on it, but for now I decided to recommend some of my favourite historical movies. If you have any suggestions, I would be happy to hear them!

1) Suffragette, Directed by Sarah Gavron, starring Carey Mulligan, Anne-Marie Duff, Helena Bonham Carter, Meryl Streep, and tons of other amazing actresses.

I actually just recently saw this movie, and I loved it. It tells the story of some of the foot soldiers of the suffragette movement. Carey Mulligan brilliantly plays Maud Watts, a wife and mother who works at a Laundry who ends up being a huge part of the suffragette movement. She gives up her job and her family to help women get some semblance of equality. I loved how the director showed female friendship, and illustrated the atrocities that the women went through trying to get the vote. Gavron shows the nitty-gritty’s of the movement, no glorifying of the things that happened. (Warning: this movie talks about rape and shows someone being force-fed in jail as well as other violence)

2) Anna Karenina, Directed by Joe Wright, starring Keira Knightley, Jude Law, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, and Alicia Vikander.

There are many versions of this classic, but this is by far my favourite. The movie and costumes are highly stylized and the scenes fit together beautifully. This is maybe not the most historically accurate movie, but it is done gorgeously, and everything works together to create something that will make you weep. The movie follows Anna (Knightley), a woman who has a life-changing affair with the dashing young Count Vronsky (Taylor-Johnson). Set in the late 1800s, the film captures the height of Russian society and exhibits some of the challenges that women have had throughout history. I loved the costumes in the movie, and if you have a thing for great cinematography (like me), this movie is definitely for you. (Warning: the movie revolves around an affair, and suicide is a large part of the movie)

3) Pride and Prejudice, any of the adaptations are great. Actually, any Jane Austen movies are great.

I love Pride and Prejudice. Mr Darcy, Elizabeth, all of the characters are fabulous, and Jane Austen books give you the ultimate romance on a charming regency set. If you want a more cheerful historical movie (and those can be hard to find), Jane Austen stories are the best bet.

4) Testament of Youth, Directed by James Kent, starring Alicia Vikander, Kit Harington, Taron Egerton, Colin Morgan.

This movie did not get the attention it deserved. It not only had a fabulous cast, but also great costumes, music, and cinematography. To make it even better, it was based on a true story. The movie follows Vera Brittian through the First World War, first when she got into Oxford, then when she became a nurse, and as she lost some of the people she loved the most. I cried through pretty much the whole movie. It was beautifully and respectfully done, and gives us some insight on why she became a pacifist. Please remember that it is a war movie, so there are many very difficult scenes.

5) The Great Gatsby, Directed by Baz Luhrmann, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Carey Mulligan.

Another great classic that will get you to question humanity as a whole and fight with people you actually like about all of the characters in the book. Except for Tom Buchanan. Everyone hates that guy. I loved how this movie was done- over the top with a great soundtrack and amazing costumes. It fit the book perfectly, in my mind.

6) Marie Antoinette, Directed by Sofia Coppola, starring Kirsten Dunst, Jason Schwartzman, Rip Torn.

History isn’t everyones cup of tea. This movie perfectly captures the extravagance of the French court just before the French Revolution in the late 1700s, all the while helping us modern people understand what it was like for Marie Antoinette. Most of the things that people know of her now are things that weren’t actually true, it was just propaganda (no, Marie Antoinette didn’t actually say ‘let them eat cake’.). The modern touches like the soundtrack and the converse that were snuck (is that the right word? It sounds wrong to me) into a shot help us understand what she went through, while still making a very enjoyable movie. Also, the aesthetic is pretty great.

There are tons and tons of other movies that I would like to recommend, but these are a few of my favourites. Some others that are deserving of your attention are:

7) Brooklyn, directed by John Crowley

8) Belle, directed by Amma Asante

9) The Imitation Game, directed by Morten Tyldum (this one is one of my favourite war movies, along with Saving Private Ryan and Schindlers List)

10) Atonement, directed by Joe Wright

Please feel free to add on to this list! Would anyone like another rec list, maybe for historical books or tv shows?

*Note: none of these pictures are my own.

This is Not Your Fairy Tale

Your name: submit What is this?

Warnings: Sex, Language and Violence.

The Crazy Horse Road House may not be the most romantic rendezvous, but it works for you and Sam. That’s the only thing that matters.

Between your schedule and Sam crisscrossing the country to fight the big bad, it’s amazing you’ve made any semblance of a relationship last. It takes a lot of work and patience to be the woman waiting on Sam Winchester. Most of the time it’s nothing more than missed dinners, broken plans and crawling into bed alone.

It’s not exactly ideal, but it’s your reality and it’s really damn lonely.

Once a month, if life is hectic and you two haven’t really gotten a chance to spend any time together, you meet here. The Crazy Horse.  You spend the weekend drinking cheap beer, going to second run movies and fucking in the dirty motel across the street. Sometimes he comes alone, other times he brings his brother and you pretend that it doesn’t bother you.

Everything about Sam is a compromise, so you take what you can get.

So tonight, here you sit, three beers in, waiting. Sam’s late, big surprise.

“Hey,” a greasy, middle-aged guy parks himself on the barstool next to you. He has no shame as he gives you a good once over, eyeing you from head to toe. “Damn sweetheart, you look like you could use some company.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You flash him a tight smile and sip your beer.

“I don’t know about that. You look a little lonely over here all by yourself.” He makes himself comfortable, signaling to the bartender for another drink. “I’m Luke, what’s your name?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You don’t have worry about me. I’m waiting for someone.”

“You sure about that?” He moves in a little closer. “My buddies and I have been watching you for a while. Sure looks like you’re flying solo.” He nods to a small table.  You follow his stare and several of the men begin to snicker and whistle.

“As flattering as all this is, I’m really not interested in anything other than my drink.” You shift in your seat, turning toward him and leaning away at the same time. You make sure to look him in the eyes, you don’t want him getting the wrong idea, you’re not a woman who’s easily messed with. This is not the first time you’ve been hit on in bar, but it never gets less uncomfortable.

“Hey now, no reason to get your panties in a punch.” He’s really not taking the hint. “Just let me buy you a beer. I we’d get along just fine once you loosen up a little.”

“Listen, I’m not going to ask you again, please leave me alone.” You cringe as he licks his lips, amused by your reaction.

“Let’s just think about this for a minute, it’s perfect sweetheart,” His hand is suddenly on your leg, his stubby fingers digging into your thigh. You suck in a sudden breath, jumping at his touch. “You’re alone, I’m alone. We could have a little fun.”

“She’s not alone.” Sam’s voice behind you is unmistakable, accompanied by his big hands on your shoulders. “Take your hands off her before I do it for you.”

Luke’s hand recoils, suddenly jumping up from his seat. He smiles shyly and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s cool man, we were just talking.”

“Well, you’re done now.” Sam moves between you and Luke, as he shuffles back his table where his friends are in hysterics.

“You picked a hell of a night to be late.” You spin around to face him.

“I can see that. You have quite the fan club.” Sam looks down you with his jaw set, not at all amused. He ticks his head, as if he’s trying to shake off how pissed he is. He throws Luke, and the table of admirers, a hostile stare.

“Sam, It’s fine” You stand up as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you to him. He kisses you hard, definitely more forceful than the usual hello kiss. You squeak into this mouth when he grabs a handful of your ass, giving it a quick squeeze as he pulls away.

Sam’s marking his territory. You let him.

“You wanna leave?” He offers, still holding you against his body.  You can feel his heart racing in his chest, he really didn’t like that guy touching you. His reaction, while a bit over the top, is really turning you on.  

“No, don’t let that guy ruin our night. Come on,” you grab his hand and coax him back toward the bar.

::

It takes a few beers, a game of darts and a story about Dean shopping for the perfect mozzarella cheese, but Sam simmers downs and start to enjoy himself. You talk and drink until well after midnight. You tell him everything. The little details, that would bore anyone else, make Sam’s eyes light up. He enjoys hearing about your boring little life.

Sam’s coming back from the bathroom, when one of Luke’s friend bumps into him. Sam keep his cool, but the guy mumbles something. You know what’s about to happen, already moving toward them.

“What did you say?” Sam raises his eyebrows, his shoulders rolling back.

“Baby, just ignore him. Please, let’s just go.” You’re between Sam and another man, with two hands on Sam’s chest. The other guy is just as big as Sam.

The situation has escalated in record time.

The man eyes you up, then down, making the point that Sam can’t stop him from looking at you any way he likes.  He turns to Sam and grins, “I bet I could make her squeal like a pig.”

“Shut your mouth.” Sam spits as his fist connects with the man’s face in a single, fluid motion. One quick punch and the asshole is holding his nose as blood streams down his shirt.

Next thing you know, he’s running full bore at Sam.

Your dive bar date night has officially turned into an all out brawl.

Fuck.

::

A couple hours  later you’re in a dirty motel bathroom. The gash in Sam’s side looks horrific but he’s insisting that he doesn’t need a hospital.

“Can you thread the needle for me?” he implores, wincing as he gingerly pats the open wound with an alcohol soaked cloth.

“Sure,” you gulp and look away, your stomach feeling uneasy. “Are you sure we shouldn’t have someone look at it? He cut with a broken beer bottle for Christ’s sake.”

“It’s not too deep.” Sam gives you a strained grin that’s intended to dismiss your concerns. “I’ve done it before, Y/N. I’m gonna be fine.”

“Okay,” you don’t fight him. You thread the needle with fishing line and hand it to him along with a bottle of whiskey. He takes a swig, then gets down to the business of stitching himself up.

You can’t watch. You turn the TV and force yourself to watch a rerun of Forensic Files.

By the time Sam’s crawls into bed it’s almost sunrise. There’s a lot you intended to say to him, but instead you wrap your arms around him as he lays his head on your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, it wasn’t your fault, but you feel like somehow it was. “We should have left.”

“Don’t be. He was asking for it.” Sam breathes, “I’d do it again.”

When you wake up it’s early afternoon and Sam is gone. There’s a note on his pillow.

Dean called, had to leave. Didn’t want to wake you.

I’m sorry I ruined our night. I’ll make it up to you. Call me.

I love you.

::

Two weeks later , Sam hi-jacks you on a Sunday afternoon. He holds your hand while he drives, thumb rubbing the back your knuckles and watching how you smile at the afternoon light. He sneaks glances at you, noticing, for the first time in a long time  the pink in your cheeks, delicate color on pallid skin.

He finds a old revival theater, in a town so out of the way he’d never be able to find again if his life depended on it. The tickets are cheap, but the popcorn is stale and the only thing playing is a animated kids movie he’s never heard of.

You tell him you can’t believe he’s never seen this movie and you’re definitely staying. It’s a exquisite, rundown theater, you can smell mold and new paint as you sit in ratted seats. You think it’s fantastic. He’s there with you, arm slung over her shoulders as the lights dim and your eyes tear up at the opening credits of An American Tail.

And even though I know how very far apart we are

It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star…

Afterwards, Sam fucks you in the parking lot, you ride him in the backseat, squirming and moving your hips while he bucks up into you. Your teeth chatter over his lips, kisses hard and meant only for him. He fists the pale yellow material of you dress where it’s bunched at your hips, rough hands cupping ass while you ache with lust. Your back curves sharply, harsh gasps when his dick finds your sweet spot and all you can do is say his name. You dig fingers, clawing into his shoulder, cock buried deep, while quivering muscles tug at him. You jerk when he comes quickly with a muffled shout, mouth still pressed into your breast.

In the end it’s not the fairy tale weekend you dream of, it’s just a small moment, something private that’s only yours. There are very few romantic dinners, certainly no opera tickets or moonlit walks - no, instead you get a cheap film, a flask of whiskey and a quick fuck. 

And in this life, not the ideal, not the fairy tale, but in this real existence…it’s perfect.





@impalaimagining

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Summary: Bucky Promised he’d be home for Christmas, but a mission is taking longer than expected. Will he make it home in time? 

Word Count: 1,749

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing this little fic for all you lovelies. I hope each and every one of you has a wonderful holiday and an even better new year. Happy Holidays, everyone <3

Originally posted by forever-winter-wonderland

“I promise, Y/N, doll. I’ll be home for Christmas.” Bucky’s voice was soft, soothing as he wrapped you in a tight embrace, peppering kisses over your face in an attempt to distract you from your worries.

“But what if something happens? What if you get hurt? Or the mission takes longer than expected? Or…w-what if -“

Bucky interrupted you, shaking his head. “Don’t even think of finishing that sentence. Nothing’s going to happen, doll. This is a routine mission. We’ll be in and out. We’ll be back in no time, babygirl, you’ll see.”

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3

Rose Reviews… THE X-FILES - S1.E4: Conduit

<< 1.3 Squeeze  —————————————- 1.5 The Jersey Devil >>

In the dead times post Chicago high it’s been nice to wrap myself once again in the slippery arms of my beloved show. Conduit is one of those S1 episodes I always forget about… let’s see how it scores with, as always, a melange of gifs, cursewords and thoughts arranged into some semblance of a recap under the cut…

Where she leads… he will follow

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mediocre-suns  asked:

number 44 for the 100 ways to say i love you with nurseydex, please! clumsy boys + violent sports = who knows?

44. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

Dex knows he should just be grateful that it wasn’t worse, but he has been and always will be selfish when it comes to Nursey.

“How are you feeling?”

Nursey tries to make a face, but with all of the wrappings and gauze, he can’t do much more than stick his tongue out. “Ugh.”

Dex softens, smiling a little. “Ready to go back to the Haus?”

Nursey grins. “Yes, please. Carry me?” He asks, reaching his arms out toward Dex, who instead presses his palms up against Nursey’s outstretched ones.

“You hurt your face, not your legs,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I think a big, strong hockey player like you can handle some walking.”

Nursey huffs. “First I’m so disfigured and hideous that you won't kiss me anymore, and now I’m not even injured enough for you to carry me out of here? Some knight in shining armor you are, Poindexter.”

Dex sighs. “That’s not what you said an hour ago, drama queen. Besides, you know very well what’s gonna happen if I try to kiss you with a broken nose.”

Nursey pouts as best he can. “Maybe, yeah, but you’re worth it.”

“Oh, am I?” Dex laughs, running a hand through Nursey’s hair. “And what do I tell Clara?”

“She would understand,” Nursey grumbles, and Dex would chirp him further if Clara hadn’t bustled in through the door just then to take Nursey’s vitals.


2-0, Samwell vs. Dartmouth, second period. Things are going well; defense is having a particularly ‘swawesome game and Dartmouth seems less competitive than usual, for once. In fact, this is the least aggressive Hall has ever seen them. Murray seems to agree.

It’s suspicious.

But Dex is trying not to let it bother him. After all, he’s here to keep his head down and play some damn good hockey, not push his luck.

49 is fast, like Bitty, but he’s about 100 pounds heavier and nowhere near as agile, so Dex isn’t having much trouble keeping up with him. He gets complacent around minute ten; by minute eleven, he’s feeling somewhat antsy. Finally, in minute twelve, he sees it - an assist, if he can get to Ransom in time. He goes for it.

49 long forgotten, Dex is almost close enough to snatch the puck when he hears the sharp crack of helmet against board, followed by a soft thud and Bitty’s quiet, “Oh, Lord,” behind him.

He turns, and the last thing he expects is to see a pile of red jersey lying on the ice.

No, wait. Scratch that.

The last thing he expects to see is number twenty-eight lying on the ice.

It takes his breath away.

There’s a split second where all he can do is pray that Nursey moves, gets up, does something, anything, and then the pile of red (red to match Dex’s vision) sits up and takes off its helmet and Dex remembers how to breathe again and the world continues to turn, for now.

There’s blood, and Dex wants to go to Nursey, but he doesn’t trust himself to move yet - not until he knows for sure that his knees won’t give out on him. So he waits and watches as Nursey slowly hauls himself up off the ice, his head buzzing and the noise of the crowd behind him deafening. He feels his own skates start to drift, and when Ransom and Holster give him the nod he knows they picked up from Lardo, he follows Nursey all the way back to the locker room. He finally finds him sitting on a bench with a wad of paper towels pressed to his face surrounded by Lardo, Hall, and Murray, who start up a conversation as Dex slips unnoticed into a shower stall to change out of his uniform. No way he’s leaving his boyfriend to suffer like that alone; the team will just have to deal.

“I’m fine, it’s chill, I just need a minute. It’s cool. Doesn’t even hurt… that much.”

“Bro, that doesn’t look fine.”

“It’s broken, Nurse. We have to get you to a doctor. Is there someone you want us to call for you?”

“Wait, uh, can’t Ransom fix it? He’s basically a doctor at this point and he’s my bro, he would totally do it.”

“Nursey, we’re in the middle of a game. Ransom could probably help, I guess, but we can’t be down two defensemen and a captain.”

“Well, we can’t leave him here, and I’m not authorized to let Duan drive him… Sorry, Nurse, looks like we’re gonna have to call an ambulance.”

“No, wait,” Dex pipes up, poking his head out of the stall. The crowd turns, startled, and Nursey shifts the paper towels enough to give Dex a semblance of a grin. “I can - I’ll drive you, uh, to the hospital. We could, um, take Jack’s car, if he says it’s okay, and you could, uh, push Ollie and Wicks up. And then, you know, Lardo can stay and you can finish the, um, the game,” he finishes awkwardly.

Lardo smirks at him (she’s the only one who knows about them right now, and she’s still a little too proud of herself for figuring it out before Dex took her up to the reading room one night during a kegster and told her) and hands Nursey another paper towel while Hall and Murray think it over. "Alright. Good initiative, Poindexter. Take Zimmermann’s car, and you’d better keep Duan updated,“ Hall says as Lardo whips out her phone, presumably to text Jack. 

“Yes, sir.” Not a problem, I’ve been updating her since day one. “Thanks.”

(Dex helps her with her sculptures, and she helps him vent. It’s a fair trade.)

Five minutes later, Hall and Murray are back with the team while Lardo is off on a mission to find Jack and his keys. Dex sighs and flops down next to Nursey, resting his head on his shoulder.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Was it 49?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. I wasn’t watching him.”

“It’s okay, I thought I had him covered. He snuck up on me, that’s all.”

“You shouldn’t have had to cover him, though. I should have known better than to try and be a damn hero,” Dex laments, closing his eyes.

“Hey,” Nursey says, slipping his free arm around Dex’s waist. “It’s hockey, Poindexter. Shit happens. You weren’t being a hero, you were just doing your job.”

Dex stays silent for a minute and hands Nursey another paper towel. “I should have punched him. I had time, nobody would’ve stopped me.”

Nursey sighs. “Yeah, but then who would’ve swept me off my feet to the emergency room?”

“Literally anyone else, Nurse, I’m not Prince Charming.”

“Damn right you’re not. Where’s your horse, Dexy?”

“Right here,” Lardo interrupts, sauntering in through the door with Jack’s keys dangling from her fingers. “Ugh, d-men. Get a room, you two.” She tosses them at Dex and then crosses her arms, still smirking that awful smirk at the pair.

“Thanks, Lards,” Nursey says and attempts to wink at her, which makes Dex laugh. 

“Come on, Nurse, road trip into the sunset,” he says, lacing his fingers through Nursey’s and pulling him up off the bench past Lardo, who rolls her eyes and hands Nursey the rest of the paper towel roll as they pass by. 

“If either of you die, I’ll kill you,” she calls after them, and Nursey’s “Chill, Duan!” is so endearing that Dex just has to press a kiss to his cheek. Derek is gonna be the death of him, honestly - no one’s allowed to be that adorable with a broken nose.


“C'mon, Dexy, please?”

“For the millionth time, no.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“No, I’m being logical. You wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

“Rude. I’m telling Bitty to put you on a pie ban and also I’m giving you the cold shoulder starting now, so there.

Dex sighs and falls into the visitor’s chair behind him. The debate had worn on for a full forty-five minutes, and his resolve was beginning to crumble. It was late, he was tired, and all he really wanted was to get home and curl up in bed with Nursey, which wasn’t going to happen at all if he was getting the silent treatment. He would know. 

“Nursey.”

All he gets is a huff and a turn of Nursey’s head in response. Dex, undeterred, pinches the bridge of his nose and tries again.

“Derek, darling. Light of my life. Please.”

Nursey glares at him, and it’s better than nothing, so he runs with it.

“We still have to get you discharged at the circulation desk downstairs, and then I have to bring the car around because we parked kinda far and I don’t want you to walk any more than you have to, okay? So, if you really want me to, I will carry you from here to the elevator and from the desk to the car. Okay?”

Nursey, against poor Clara’s wishes (is it acceptable to tip your nurse?), hops down off of the metal table and crosses the room to plop himself into Dex’s lap with a grin. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Dex’s eyes widen. “Actually, no, you haven’t.” Which… is true, although when he thinks about it, is kind of surprising. He’s already said the words once, while Nursey was asleep in his arms, so he know it didn’t count, but he’s thought them dozens of times. They’ve felt natural almost since the day they got together, so there’s really no reason why he’s waited this long. He guesses it’s because they always seem implied, with Nursey - it’s different with him. Everything they do for each other, every note they leave, every movie night in together, every morning waking up next to each other feels like an I love you, so why say it?

Now that Nursey’s said it, though, he gets it.

“Well, I love you,” Nursey repeats, and Dex would carry him to the ends of the earth, if Nursey asked him to.

“I love you, too,” Dex replies softly, and just so we’re clear, it’s Nursey who kisses Dex.

Clara’s just gonna have to deal.

Prompt: Reylo AU where Rey is a newbie cop, and Kylo Ren is an ex-cop/detective-turned-crime lord. And even though Kylo Ren has most of the police force in his pocket, Rey is all idealistic and makes it her mission to take down Kylo. And Kylo’s so charmed by her tenacity and constant attempts to arrest him that he subtly helps her on cases and gives her hints about where to find the latest baddie she’s chasing after. 

(Notes: continued under a ‘Read More’ due to length)


Rey exhaled with relief as she shrugged out of her police jacket, kicking her front door carelessly shut behind her. A gentle yank of a few hair pins and her long brown hair was falling blissfully free down her back, albeit a fair bit tangled from a day of being jammed beneath a regulation officer cap.

Not for the first time since starting work she wordlessly gave thanks that her apartment was so cramped and tiny – that meant that she had only a few short steps from the entrance to her kitchen, and that translated into her growling stomach being filled with cheap, wonderful ramen noodles that much sooner.

Food, she thought longingly, half-stumbling to her cabinets. Darn Finn and darn Poe for welching on their promise of dinner. But nooooo, apparently some godforsaken football game is more important than making sure your best friend has sustenance. Men.

“Really, Rey,” a voice drawled from the direction of her living room couch. “Are you always so unwary of your surroundings?”

Before the gasp had even passed the threshold of her lips, Rey jerked about and leveled her gun at the intruder with steady hands.

An intruder who just so happened to be Kylo Ren, infamous crime lord of Republic City. An infamous crime lord who was sprawled elegantly upon her disheveled garage-sale couch, flicking through her file of case reports with an infuriating air of leisure. An infamous crime lord who she had been determined to convict since her first day on the force.  

You!” Trying desperately to overcome her initial shock and gain some semblance of coherent thought, she demanded, “What the hell are you doing in my apartment, you bastard?”

“Good evening to you as well, sunshine.”

Rey bristled, her eyes trailing purposefully to the dull red scar that traversed the length of his pale face. “After our last encounter, I would have thought you’d think twice about your oh-so-sweet endearment for me.”

Kylo Ren laughed; the entirety of his lean, long form shook with amusement. “Like Icarus, I underestimated the dangers of getting too close to the sun. You’re still sunshine, Rey…only now I’m quite wise to your perilous nature.”

Okay, so clearly he wasn’t holding that badly-misplaced bullet that had skimmed the length of his face against her. Which only further reinforced Rey’s conviction that he was either a masochist or a little bit unstable. Probably both.

“You still didn’t answer me,” she intoned flatly, unwilling to be deterred.

“Very well then,” he agreed amiably. “I suppose I’m here due to…curiosity.”

“About?”

“You.”

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Preference 12 - How You Get Back Together

Scott
It’s been two months since he left you. It had blindsided you horribly. He did it without warning and he did it quick, leaving no room for argument, no room for you to fight back. He didn’t want you involved in his life anymore. He didn’t want to be with you.

It has been two months of agony for you. You’ve avoided each other in school and you’ve stayed out of his business, but he’s all you’ve been thinking about. You love him. You know that. You’re pretty sure he knows that. And there are even days where you think he loves you too, even if he did leave.

It’s raining tonight, which isn’t helping cheer you up any as you try to focus on your homework. There’s a knock at your window and when you see Scott there with that puppy-dog look, giving you a tentative wave, you get a little angry. You stomp over to the window and throw it open, but block him from coming in.

“You lost the right to sneak in my window,” you sneer. He looks taken aback and a little shocked. Did he think you’d be happy to see him? “What do you want? 

“Can we talk?” he asks over the sound of the rain. “Please?” You bite your tongue, contemplating just turning him away. The sad look he has wins you over though.

“Fine.” You move out of the way and he climbs through. He stands there for a moment and looks down, realizing he’s soaking your carpet as the rain drips off of him. He looks up at you sheepishly. “It’s fine. What do you want?” He sighs and looks lost for a moment.

“I need you,” he admits. Your heart swells, but you try not to let it show, wary of what he’s actually meaning to say. “I thought I could do all of this without you, though I had to. I don’t want you to get hurt and people get hurt a lot around me.” You soften a little when you see how sad he’s getting, how his posture shrinks down and his eyes go dull. “I can’t lose you.”

“So you left me to protect me?” you ask carefully. He nods at you.

“But I can’t do this without you. I need you.” His eyes look like they’re pleading with you. You step up to him.

“You’re such an idiot,” you tell him. His mouth drops open, hurt flooding his face until he sees you break out in a smile. “I know what I’m getting into. I know the risks. Let me decide if I want to take them.” He smiles widely at you and then sweeps down to give you a kiss. His skin is wet and cold, but the kiss feels like home. You wrap your arms around your neck, not caring about getting wet. When you pull away you tell him, “Don’t leave again.”

“I won’t.” He sighs heavily. “God, I won’t.”

Stiles
After you split, it didn’t take long, two maybe three days, before the rumors got back to you. You broke up with him? That’s what people were saying? You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t fathom a reason Stiles would say that to anyone. So one day after school, you corner him by his jeep.

“Stilinski!” you shout angrily. He sighs heavily and turns to face you.

“What did I do now?” He sounds sad and even a little broken. You push the guilty feeling away. 

“Why the hell are you telling people I broke up with you?” You readjust your backpack on your shoulder and cross your arms over your chest. He rolls his eyes at you.

“Uhhh, because you did.” You squint at him and he just stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“No, I didn’t!” You’re confused and frustrated. “You broke up with me!” Now he looks confused too. Crunched brow, hanging mouth, sputtering to grab some semblance of sense from what you said.

“I did not!” He sounds offended by the suggestion. “When we were arguing, you broke up with me!” He points back and forth between the two of you as he shouts.

“No!” you insist. “I didn’t break up with you! Why would I do that?” You throw you arms up in the air. This is ridiculous.

“You didn’t?” he questions. You shake your head firmly. “Well I didn’t break up with you!” You want to argue, to tell him exactly how he did it and what he said, but you really can’t remember the details of it.

“So wait,” You really can’t remember what he had said. “If neither of us broke up with each other, are we still together?”

“I guess so.” He shrugs awkwardly. “I mean… do you want to be together?” He says it cautiously, like he’s not sure if that’s where this conversation should be headed.

“Of course I do!” You don’t hesitate. “That’s why I didn’t break up with you, genius!” He cracks a smile and looks relieved. He steps closer to you and takes your hand.

“Okay, good. Because that would have sucked.” You smile up at him, happy to feel his touch again. You’ve realized it’s something you don’t want to have to live without. 

“Just shut up and give me a makeup kiss.”  

Isaac
It was dumb. You knew it was dumb and you knew you hadn’t wanted to do it at the time, but you did. Things were just so stressful. People kept dying and life was falling apart and to top off the supernatural side of life, the regular side of life was telling you to do better in school, college was around the corner, get a job, your life revolves around this and that and who knows what. You couldn’t handle it. 

So you did the only thing you could do to lighten your load. You broke up with Isaac. Dumb. Stupid. Idiotic.

It’s been a particularly hard day. You walk over to the park and sit down on your favorite bench to cry. No one ever walks by this spot which is why it’s perfect for a little therapy cry. It surprises you when someone sits down next to you. You wipe at your eyes quickly trying to recover and look up. It’s Isaac.

“What are you doing here?” You ask sniffling.

“Knew you’d come here. Thought you might need a friend.” You smile sadly. He’d taken the break up surprisingly well. He didn’t push, didn’t fight, just accepted it and kept a respectable amount of distance. But he stuck around. He made it known he was still there if you needed him, which made staying away a lot harder.

You both sit and stay quiet for a while. Everything and nothing simultaneously run through your mind. You can feel a headache coming and you’re tired. Tired of stressing. Tired of pain. Tired of everything. You lean your head on his shoulder and he tentatively wraps an arm around your shoulders. He feels comfortable, familiar and you finally feel a little more relaxed.

“Would you take me back?” you ask softly. He kisses the top of your head.

“If you want me, I’m right here,” he whispers and squeezes your shoulders.

“I do.” And it’s as simple as that. He squeezes you again and you nuzzle into his neck. No other words need to be said. There’s no grand gesture or declaration. Just like that, you know you’re together again. And you know you won’t make the same mistake this time.

Jackson
It’s been over a year since you saw Jackson. Maybe even close to two. After he went to London, there was no communication. No texts or phone calls, not even so much as a facebook friendship left to be seen. Radio silence on both ends. That was how you both wanted it. It made it easier. Things had ended oddly. He was a giant lizard and there were still feelings for Lydia and then he was a werewolf and then he was gone.

You hadn’t even heard he was coming back. You just randomly saw him on the outskirts of town. It was slightly awkward. He waved and smiled, looking happier than you’d ever seen him before. And you? Well you both tried to smile and look away at the same time which caused you to look ridiculous. You walked away at that point.

The next time there was no awkwardness somehow. He was at Derek’s place when you got there for the pack meeting and when you guys saw each other, you hugged. It was that moment in the hug that it stopped being awkward. You were both happy in life. You were in good places. And you missed the friendship that had dissolved between you two. It felt good to see him again.

Somewhere along the line pack meetings turned into coffee dates which lead to missing each other in a different way. His smile stirred butterflies again. His touch lit a spark in you. You started to wonder if his kiss would feel the same as it used to. You missed kissing him.

It all comes to a head one movie night at his house. He pokes your side and then he tickles you. Then he tackles you, pushing you onto your back, running his fingers over your ribs. You’re laughing hysterically, crying out, and closing your eyes, trying to fend him off. You don’t even see it coming. His fingers stop and he’s kissing you. There’s barely a beat before you’re kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down closer to you. It’s even better than you remember.

He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes and whisper, “I missed you.”

Jealousy, thou Green-Eyed Bitch

Harry has never been a jealous type, or so he thought. On hindsight, it was probably because he never really cherished or felt so deeply about another person. A feeling that seeped into his very bones- the need to protect, to love, to possess that one significant person.

The first time it had happened, Harry barely recognised it for what it was. It had been a rather slow day at Kingsman (sometimes, even insane megalomaniacs took breaks) and when that happened, the knights often idled their time by polishing their weapons, catching up on each other’s missions by reviewing the feeds or visiting the shooting range. Eggsy had been walking J.B. on the grounds when his proposed recruit for the position of Tristan spotted him.

“Hey Eggsy, Merlin just gave us a day off, wanna spar a lil and relieve the good ol’ days in the marines?” Lucas asked him cheekily.

“I don’t see why not? Since ya so keen on havin your arse handed to ya on a silver platter again” Eggsy replied smoothly without a hitch.

-

Lucas was strong and powerful but nobody could beat Eggsy at how agile and flexible he was, bending his body at inhuman angles, curving just the right amount to swerve out of a punch. After several minutes of using perfectly executed moves that failed to land a punch on Eggsy, Lucas had given up and decided to abandon all techniques he had been taught at Kingsman and relied instead on his street brawl which unfortunately for him, served only as benefit to Eggsy who swiftly swept his feet out from underneath him with a well placed kick and brought Lucas tumbling onto the ground, but not without him first grabbing onto Eggsy’s shirt for balance which ended with toppling Eggsy onto him.

It was at this moment that Harry walked into the gymnasium and saw how Eggsy straddled Lucas, both of them panting heavily, sweat-soaked shirts sticking to their bodies and Lucas smiling widely at Eggsy. Something hot and ugly unfurled in Harry’s chest. How he wanted to lunge at Lucas, pull him out from under Eggsy and wrap his hands around his neck, warning him that Eggsy belongs only to him and that he had no business touching what was his…

“ ‘Arry? Whatchu doin ‘ere?” The sound of Eggsy’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“Walk with me” Harry replied curtly and Eggsy scrambled onto his feet to follow Harry out of the gymnasium, leaving a very confused Lucas sprawled on the mats.

Eggsy had not seen Harry in such a state ever since the time before Kentucky which he refuses to talk about, referring to it only as “you-know-what”. Seeing Harry this mad again only brought back unpleasant memories that sent shivers down his spine.

Turning sharply into a corner, Harry turned toward Eggsy and pushed him against the wall, pressing his body tightly against Eggsy’s. Without another word, he titled Eggsy’s neck and mouthed at the delicate skin there, sucking and licking ruthlessly. “ ‘Arry? Whas wrong?” Although Eggsy did enjoy their escapades to remote parts of Kingsman for their occasional trysts, he did not understand what brought on this sudden aggression in Harry. But Harry did not answer, instead he contented himself with marking every inch of Eggsy’s skin that was visible even with a shirt on. Then it dawned on him.

“ ‘Arry, you’re not jealous, are you? Cause Lucas and I were just havin a lil friendly match, thas all.”

The mouth at Eggsy’s neck pauses.

Mine. You’re mine. Do you understand that?” Harry asked against the base of Eggsy’s throat as he palmed him through his sweatpants.

“Yes, yes I am yours ‘arry. No one else’s.” Eggsy replied as he tries valiantly to refrain himself from moaning. “Now how about we go somewhere where you can show me exactly how much I belong to you?”

-

Harry never spoke of the incident with Lucas and Eggsy presumed to let the matter rest but jealousy is a green eyed bitch and never rests.

One might imagine that the life of a spy is irregular, unstable and fraught with danger, and it is. That is why whenever they can, as much as they can, Harry and Eggsy endeavour to establish a routine to maintain some semblance of normality in their lives. On Saturdays, they usually stay in, watch a few movies (which remarkably always end up to be Pretty Woman, My Fair Lady or Nikita) and snuggle up in front of the telly. Harry would spend time cooking (after all how often does he get the luxury of time to use the kitchen) and spend an even larger amount of time preventing Eggsy from stealing a bite of what he has cooked. After which, he would try to educate Eggsy on the finer points of appreciating wine and how to complement and savour the wine with different types of flavours while Eggsy challenges himself to how much footsie he can play with Harry before Harry finally relents and drags him up to the bedroom.

On Sundays, it usually involves lazy morning lie-ins and kisses, slow and tender love-making, where they can finally take the time and savour each other, care for each other and show the other just how much he means. When they finally do get out of bed, they move off to play their favourite game. Every couple has their thing. An activity that only the both of them indulge in and is shared with no one else. For Eggsy and Harry, it is going to crowded places on Sundays, taking a few minutes to locate a target and see how much information they can sieve out from that target, then compare notes and see who wins that particular round. It appeals to both their spy instincts and their competitive spirit and it allows Eggsy to finally be able to gloat about something when he finally wins Harry at it (it’s rare, but it does happen… Sometimes)

This time, Harry takes a minute to take in his surroundings and lands his sight on a young man, around Eggsy’s age, wearing a familiar looking snapback, not unlike the one his partner owns and points him out to Eggsy. “That one should be easy enough for you, my dear boy?”

“Oi, I’ll not have you tryna make this easy fer me. I’ll fuckin ace this one. You’ll se-” Eggsy faltered as he finally turned to look up at his chosen target.

“Bloody fuckin hell. Whas he doin here?”

Upon hearing the familiar voice, the Target looks around and spots Eggsy, hurriedly running over to meet him.

“Oi, Eggs! Where ‘ave you buggered off to? After you left the other time I’ve missed you, couldn’t find you at any of the usual spots could I? Had me proper scared love.” the Target started.

Eggsy flushed a bright scarlet as he regarded him. It had been close to 8 years since they last met. Thomas, his very first serious boyfriend, whom he had left because Dean that sunofabitch had dragged him to the streets to peddle for him. He never did explain to Thomas why he’d left and always felt guilty for that, but to be fair, Thomas had never really seen keen on dating Eggsy as seriously as Eggsy had thought, so fair game innit?

“C’mere Eggsy-boy” Thomas started and pulled Eggsy toward him before he could react.

“You look much better now, don’t cha? Whatchu doin ‘ere anyway?” Thomas asked and that was when he noticed Harry, standing stiffly, his hand clamped over the brolly a little too tightly.

“Whozzat Eggs? Your grandad or somefink come to visit?” Thomas asked snidely.

Eggsy noticed the predatory, calculative stance Harry adopted whenever he was engaged in a fight and prayed to whoever was listening that this wouldn’t end up in however those fights usually did. Harry placed a hand possessively on Eggsy’s waist and pulled him closer. The fact that Eggsy naturally leaned into the touch and shuffled impossibly closer did weaken the rage in his heart, but not quite.

Darling, I’m afraid you haven’t introduced us. I am his husband and I am very sorry, but we have somewhere we need to be right now.” Harry stated politely as his hard wandered down to Eggsy’s hip and gave a little squeeze, leaving no room for question as to what kind of relationship Eggsy and Harry had.  

-

“Husband? I must have been proper pissed since I don’t even know when I acquired you as a husband” Eggsy said cheekily as they were walking away.

“That was the only way to get that twerp to stop pawing at my- you”

“Look Harry” Eggsy stopped walking as he grabbed both of Harry’s hands in his and said “I’m really sorry about all that back there. But honestly and seriously, you needn’t worry about all the other blokes. And none of that nonsense about how you’re old and grey and wrinkly. You’re well fit a’right? And besides all that, I love you. I love how you take your tea hardly steeped, with so much sugar it could make Daisy disgusted, and you know how much she loves sugar, I love how you hog the blankets every night and deny it to the ends of this world that you do, I love how you are ready to jump in front of me and shield me from a fuckin bullet whenever we’re on missions together even though you know I don’t need the protection, I love how you leave your robe on the bed on purpose when you go off on missions because you know I’ll miss you, I love how I return home from missions and see you snuggled up on the sofa, glasses on and a book in your lap with JB warmin up your feet and tea you prepared for my return, I love how you are you Harry. Ain’t no bird or bloke gonna change that. At the end of the day, no matter who flirts or paws at me, I’m going to return home to you, because I fully and entirely belong to you. I’m yours, Harry.”

Harry was hardly at a loss for words. He had an uncanny ability to always have the last word. But this time, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how it was possible to love this incorrigible boy standing in front of him even more than he already has. The boy who is looking at him with such sincerity and understanding and love. So he says simply “let’s head on home, our home.”

-

Even after the heartfelt speech Eggsy has made, Harry still felt like ripping the throats out of anyone who dared flirt with his boy but he was soothed by the fact that Eggsy remained stubbornly oblivious to any of it and that Eggsy remained irrevocably his.

Most Improved

A/N: Not too long or too weird at all! I loved writing this one! You have great ideas!

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Anon: “I had an idea for an Isaac Lahey drabble-imaginey-thingy where the reader is a human and a part of the pack, but she and Isaac have despised each other since the first time they’d met? And they’re constantly arguing and trying to piss the other one off and stuff? Then at one of the meetings Scott decides to pair up people to train together, who he reckons would benefit most from each other’s strengths in different areas, and he pairs y/n and Isaac so that he can help her with-(second message)-self defence etc. and y/n can help him to learn more about the creatures in the Bestiary and their strengths and weaknesses or something? (And he probably paired them together just to be a lil shit as well haha!) They both hate this and seem determined to make each other’s life hell, but then eventually start to fall for each other? And it could get kinda cute or whatever you feel like? Sorry if this is too long and too weird haha! :3 xx”

Xxx

Sometimes people come into your life, and you’re eternally grateful. The things they bring only enrich your existence and make everything in life brighter.

Isaac Lahey was not one of these people. You despised him. He was so pompous, and rude, and pretentious, and rude, and snarky, and rude, and an ass, and rude. And did you mention he was rude? Anytime you tried to talk at pack meetings, he would scoff and roll his eyes.

At school, even if they called on you for the answer, he would answer before you could.

And being a werewolf, he beat you at just about everything because he was “stronger, faster, just altogether better”, as he would say, and you would open and shut your mouth before lamely acting like a middle schooler and huffing, “Oh yeah? Well, I’m rubber and you’re glue - whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you!” Followed by stomping off like a five-year-old.

Scott knew this, the little shit, and decided to pair you two together today during a training session at the loft.

“Today, I am going to partner you with someone who I think has a strength you are lacking. Please try not to kill each other,” Scott had said with a smirk, looking pointedly at you and Isaac who had somehow ended up close to you, and your stomach dropped.

You missed all the announcements of partners, all the groans or cheering, because you only had one thought blaring in your head. Not Isaac.

“Isaac and Y/N.”

That thought had now become, Kill Scott McCall.

“Isaac, I want you to help Y/N work on her fighting skills. She’s strong, and packs a mean punch when she can get it in, but she needs to know how to defend herself a little better so she can last long enough to throw those punches. Y/N, I want you to work with Isaac on the Bestiary. He needs to quit attacking first and asking questions later. He needs to know what he is going into.”

You and Isaac looked to each other with an eye roll before sighing and making your way over to the mats.

You had just about had enough of Isaac sneering and not letting you get any semblance of a defensive move in when Scott clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, guys. This is going to continue throughout the week until next pack meeting. Meet up every day and work on what I told you. Most improved group next week gets to choose pizza and movies for a month.”

Well. This was going to be a long week.

Xxx

You stayed behind to hold up your end of the bargain, going over the Bestiary with Isaac.

To your surprise he was somewhat civil, letting you talk, and finish your answers before moving on to the next one.

Derek walked through the room from the couch to the kitchen, looking at the two of you before smiling and shaking his head. Isaac seemed to change demeanor immediately, sitting up straighter, and puffing out his chest. “What?” He asked Derek, trying to seem nonchalant.

“Nothing,” Derek chuckled, disappearing into the kitchen, Isaac almost instantly deflating back to a hunched position over the books, fully immersed once again. It was as if when anyone else was looking at either of you, he was…. Defensive? No. Protective.

You shook your head, not able to process the thought of Isaac actually having a meaningful level of character. You weren’t used to him being anything but annoying.

Snapping the books shut, you put them back in your backpack wordlessly. Isaac seemed to take the cue, helping you, making you pause in shock briefly, staring at him for just a moment before resuming your packing.

“So, tomorrow, same routine?” Isaac asked, his voice sincere for once.

“Yeah,” you said softly, actually earning a small smile from him, which you returned.

Xxx

Three days in, and you were still alive. Bruised and wearing layers from all the training, but alive.

“Think fast!” You heard behind you, ducking as you saw Isaac’s shadow approach, swinging around and blocking some half hearted throws he sent your way, smiling. “Good!” He said as you slammed your locker shut with a satisfying thud, clicking your lock.

“I have a good teacher,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own as you both walked to class. His bashful smile caught you off guard. He seemed to have a new layer every day, he just kept it all wrapped up under those scarves.

Xxx

At the end of the week, the two of you danced around the mat, showing Scott what you had learned. He made you go with a few other people just to make sure Isaac wasn’t going easy on you. You caught a glimpse of Isaac’s face as you and Derek skirted the mat, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes glow and his lip curl in a protective snarl toward Derek.

But after you downed Derek with ease, enjoying the surprised look on his face, you looked over and saw Isaac beaming.

Next, you had printed up a bunch of flash cards, the picture of a creature on the front, and it’s info on the back. Showing him the pictures, he had to name it, and three facts about it, and he had one minute to get through as many as he could.

When he was finished, you had lost count, but the stack in your hand was smaller than the stack on the table of ones he’d guessed.

Standing up with a cry of triumph, everyone cheering as you smiled, he ran around the desk, wrapped you into a hug, and then it happened.

His lips were on yours. Yours were on his. Both of your lips were touching in an unexpected, chaste victory kiss, and the room went silent.

The two of you pulled apart, Isaac’s lips still pursed, his eyes wide as he held you around the waist, looking down at you as you looked up at him.

“Well,” Scott said, breaking the silence. “I’d say that’s the most improved.”

EXO's Reaction When You're Recovering From Surgery

This little reaction is dedicated to the adorably sweet @dearneverlander! I hope you feel better soon, sweet'ums, and that this helps, if even a teeny bit :)

Baekhyun- Can you imagine this kid as a good caretaker? No. It’s not really his strong suit. Not physically, at least. Baek’s strong point in this scenario will rely on his ability to ensure your mental health is in tip-top shape. He’d keep a smile on your face with his upbeat attitude, and would try his damnedest to keep your mind off of the pain of recovering. “You gotta forget that pain and just focus on me, Y/N! How can you be grumpy with me around, hmm?”

Chanyeol- would be alllll about you. Anything and everything else in his life would be put on the back burner until you started to feel better. Any plans for the foreseeable future would be cancelled so he could be close by, just in case something had happened to go wrong. He’d honestly be one of the bigger worriers of the group, checking up on you often and ensuring you always have what you need on hand, and probably getting a little frustrated with himself when he fails to have something ready for you.

Chen- would probably be the type to tease you just a little bit with tough love at first. He’d give you a bit of a hard time whenever you asked for something, but he’d give into you before too long. He’d be the type to whine back anytime you started complaining, but at the end of the day, he’d spoil you with all kinds of attention, cuddling up next to you and singing a medley of soothing songs for you.

Kyungsoo- strikes me as someone who’s excellent when it comes to caring for the people he loves, so he’d be very attentive and would listen to any request that you had. He’d be taking on all of the things you’d normally be stuck with doing, like any of the household chores and whatnot.

Kai- would be the type to plan the biggest set of movie nights and other indoor, light activities for you, just so you wouldn’t sink into the boredom that a lot of people tend to get into during the recovery process. He’d be sure to keep you completely entertained during your period of recovery.

Kris- would try his best to care for you, but may be a little clumsy about it from time-to-time. He’d get an A for effort, but he’d likely slip-up occasionally, like handing you the wrong dose of pain medicine, spilling a bit of water on you while handing you a glass, or tucking you into bed far too tightly, but you’d have to admire how much he tries.

Luhan- may not be the best when it comes to spoiling you with the proper kinds of attention, since I’m not sure he’d know the best ways of taking care of someone after surgery, but he’d be the type to spoil you with well thought-out gifts and such, making sure that some semblance of smile continues to grace your lips, even during some of the more difficult times.

Lay- (We totally already talked about this angel a little bit, but I still gotta throw him in here) Yixing would be totally willing to give his all to make sure that you’d suffer as little as possible. He’d happily listen to any complaint or whiny retort that you had, and he’d do it all without so much as a single word of complaint from himself. You’d be in the best, most capable hands with him, and you can bet on a speedy recovery with all his TLC. “I know you’re in pain, baby. But you’ll get better soon, and I’ll take care of you in the meantime, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Suho- is very used to taking care of others, so you won’t have to worry when you’ve got him by your side. He’d know exactly what to do, and exactly the right time to do it. You wouldn’t even have to tell him when you’re in need of something, he’d pick up on your needs before even you are aware that you needed them. “I’ve already got your medicine ready for you, a blanket in case you get cold, a fan in case you get hot, and I’m here in case you need a listening ear. Anything else you need?”

Sehun- honestly isn’t much of a caregiver either, but you can bet he’ll try his best, even if it’s only because he needs you back on your feet to take care of him. It may verge on overbearing at times, but it’d definitely show that he cares. You’re thirsty, you say? Name what you’re craving and it shall be yours! Stiff and sore from having to stay in bed? One Sehun-style massage, coming your way! Need someone to change your bandages and whatnot? Well…he may not want to jump all over that one, but he’ll try to suck it up, just for you. “Are you better yet? You know, you owe me big time for taking such good care of you.”

Tao- This poor baby would be so overwhelmed by the situation. He’d honestly want nothing more than to be able to take away your pain, and even go so far as to feel your pain for you. If that was possible. But he knows better, so he’d have to settle for constantly asking you if you need anything, or how you’re feeling. “Are you feeling okay, Y/N? Do you need anything? Are you sure?”

Xiumin- would be all about trying to snuggle your pain away. He’d love nothing more than to cuddle up with you, listening to any complaints you might have about your pain, and he’d be extremely careful so he wouldn’t accidentally cause you any additional pain by touching any sensitive areas. You’d have a ridiculously hard time separating yourself from this adorable child, he’d be clinging to you, seemingly trying to force good vibes on you. “Not to worry, baby, you’ll be fine before too long. It’ll be worth all the pain in the end when you’re feeling better.”

I’m sorry the formatting’ probably terrible and that there’s no gifs, bby. I’m posting this on mobile, and it’s…a lot of work to put gifs on. Also, I feel like it may have gotten a bit repetitive, but I hope it brightens your mood, nevertheless. ^^“

Headcanon of Ichigo and Rukia’s first born daughter bonding with her grandfather Isshin and he ends up teaching her habits that Ichigo really wished he could of prevented, or so he says.


“Besides, grandpa told me if we didn’t keep you on your toes you’d end up like some sort of sad couch potato with a bad dad haircut–”

“A what?”

“You know, the kind middle-aged men have when they’re in a mid-life crisis, no purpose in life, receding hairline, balding–”


“Just call me ‘Papa’!”

“The hell?  I’m her father!”  Ichigo scowled as he warily scrutinized his own father’s actions.  Isshin paid him no mind as he made faces at his three year old granddaughter.  She merely blinked at him from his lap, her large indigo eyes wide with curiosity behind the bright orange hair inherited from her mother and father respectively.  "She can call you crazy old man!“

Not at all deterred, Isshin straightened up as he scooped her under her armpits and tossed her with much of his strength, sending her flying well above their heads as Ichigo tensed up, lunging at the pair.  Her giggles were drowned out by the sound of muscle meeting flesh from the solid kick Ichigo delivered to Isshin’s face, followed by his cursing as he scrambled to catch his daughter.

Don’t curse around her!“  

Ichigo soon found himself in a position similar to his father on the floor, his head throbbing.  He quickly shook off the pain in a panic for his daughter’s safety, instantly relieved to see her in the arms of his petite wife as she glared down at him.  His relief instantly turned to anger as Rukia continued to stand on his chest, scowling as he registered the hit she gave to him to intercept retrieving their daughter.

"Damn it, Rukia, I had her–” Ichigo grunted as Rukia’s foot once more found itself planted on his face.

“What did I just say, fool?”  She hissed as she pressed her foot down harder on his face as she placed her daughter down on the floor carefully before turning her attention to her husband.

The three year old giggled from the floor, watching her parents interact with amusement.  Although they argued fiercely and loudly, there was no feeling of trepidation nor did atmosphere ever feel heavy or tense.  Despite her young age, she could clearly feel the passion and strong emotions underlying her parents actions.

“–always have to–”
“–clearly in mid-air and you handling–”

Psst.”

Distracted by the call, the toddler looked around to catch the eye of her grandfather.  He beamed, pleased at his success for catching her attention.  He winked and tilted his head away from the couple.  The toddler tilted her head, mimicking his actions in confusion, her brows furrowing together.

Isshin had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from erupting in squeals as he barely contained himself from cooing over his granddaughter.  And then suddenly her eyes grew bright with understanding as she ambled over to him, a little unsteadily before Isshin scooped her up and quietly slipped away from the fray.

As Ichigo and Rukia’s voices faded to a steady murmur in the background, Isshin glanced down at his granddaughter and grinned.

“Now, let Papa give you some advice!”

She only looked back, blinking in response but clearly listening.

“Sometimes, I know you feel a bit lonely since they’re always busy, but you know they love you very much, right?”  A nod.  "But sometimes we have to give your momma and daddy some alone time in order to… Help things along!  After all, you don’t want to be alone all the time, do you…?“

Her eyes widened at the implication and she fervently shook her head.

"Then for the greater good, sometimes we must leave momma and daddy alone–but fear not!  Papa is here to keep you company and soon, I am certain you’ll never be alone again!”

She blinked, confusion clearly evident in her expression, but at her grandfathers light tone and encouraging smile, she returned it.

“So while you stay with me, Papa can teach you everything he knows and before you know it you’ll have a brand new brother, or sister, or siblings!!  And then soon, you can teach them what I’ve taught you!”

“Teach me?”  She tilted her head to the side, processing his words as her eyes seemed to light up as she hopped up and down excitedly, “Brother??  Sister??”

“Yes, yes!!  All the siblings you want!  Twins, triplets, you name it–” Isshin supplied gleefully, hopping up and down with his granddaughter, sharing her excitement.

Overhearing the last of his father’s words, Ichigo scowls at his father as he enters the room with Rukia in tow, “What the hell are you teaching her?!”

Ichigo!”

Isshin later proceeds to teach his granddaughter the sacred tombstone breaking competition for grandmother’s anniversary and annual family picnic along with many other ‘tips’ and ‘suggestions’ he has to offer, much to Ichigo's annoyance.

Ichigo thinks he at least escaped his father’s 'alarm’ strategy, only to find he must now be wary of his three year old daughter jumping on his stomach to wake him up at odd hour shift of the night.  And he can’t lock the door to their bedroom since, well, how could he do that to his daughter?  What if she needed them?  

And as the years go by her technique becomes more refined and even… Life threatening.

Rukia scoffs, having adopted this method herself on days where Ichigo refuses to get out of bed (“Shit, Rukia, it’s 7am on a fucking Sunday….”
“And you want to teach your children that it’s acceptable to lay about in bed being unproductive?”
“And it’s equally productive to sit on the couch watching shitty animated movies about a stupid bunny made for toddlers–shit!  Rukia!”) she claims Ichigo is being a bit ridiculous and paranoid.  It’s not as if he’s ever died from his father’s attacks (“He could have broken my neck if I didn’t have fast enough reflexes!”) although arguably Ichigo could be considered half dead?  Surely his daughter couldn’t be a threat to her own father!

Ichigo is a little worried that in addition to this, his daughter is a bit too competitive at times, although he’s certainly proud of her determination and accomplishments.  

He just had some hope he would have been able to have some semblance of normality in life where he didn’t have to wake up with a start and roll out of bed to avoid his children barreling into his room with a kick aimed at his face or any vital organ.  

“Why don’t you wake your mom up with your attempts at parenticide?!”

“Because they know they won’t be fed if they do,” Rukia mumbles from the lump of blankets and pillows.  “Don’t be so dramatic, Ichigo…”

“Hey!  I can cook too!”  Ichigo argues, but drops it at the deadpan looks from his children and wife.

Grudgingly, Ichigo admits his cooking isn’t nearly as good as Rukia’s.  Not that he’d admit it.

Ichigo often finds he must dodge his children’s attacks, mainly his first born daughter, all throughout the day.  Some attempts seem much more serious than others and he legitimately questions his family’s intention of whether they truly mean to kill him or not.

“Oh, come on dad!”  His oldest daughter frowns at him, crossing her arms over her chest.  "You always say we should protect each other!“

"Exactly!  Protect each other, not try to kill one another!”  Ichigo scowls.  He had just come home, exhausted, only to be greeted by a flying kick from his daughter.  Luckily, already built in with reflexes from such a young age, Ichigo hardly batted an eyelash as he merely dodged his daughter’s kick, hand grasping her leg to use her momentum to twist themselves around as he sets her onto her feet outside the front door before shutting it firmly behind him.

Dumbfounded, she stands at the threshold of their home, her hands still up in front of her chest and clenched into fists.  She snaps out of it the moment she hears the door locked and turns around, shouting as she bangs on the front door.

“Hey!  Dad?!  Dad!”

Ichigo ignores her calls and continues into their home, not at all perturbed about locking his teenage daughter out as he falls back into the couch, sighing in relief.  He was even thinking he might have to criticize how predictable she was becoming.

Minutes later Ichigo wasn’t at all surprised to see his daughter stomping down the stairs to confront him, a few twigs in her hair leaving evidence for him to suspect she probably scaled up the drain pipe and slipped in through an open window.

“You really think I’d aim to kill you?”  She scoffed, her expression haughty and not at all unlike her mother’s,  " I only do it because I believe in you and I know you aren’t weak!“

Ichigo merely grunted, glaring off the side at the snicker he heard from the kitchen.  Rukia, who had come home a bit earlier, was in the midst of preparing dinner.  She caught his glare, but merely smirked as she lifted a knife gesturing to the kitchen.

"Get off your lazy rump and assist me, both of you,” Rukia scolded them, momentarily interrupting their stand off.  The two knew better than to argue with the matriarch of the family and with an unspoken truce they trudged to the kitchen to assist in any way they could without causing a mess of their meal.  

Their daughter gathered up the plates and utensils, setting up the table before casually continuing her defense.

“Besides, grandpa told me if we didn’t keep you on your toes you’d end up like some sort of sad couch potato with a bad dad haircut–”

“A what?”

“You know, the kind middle-aged men have when their in a mid-life crisis, no purpose in life, receding hairline, balding–”

Balding?!” Ichigo interrupted incredulously, scowling as he paused in chopping some vegetables as he reached with his free hand to touch his bangs, “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Nothing,” Rukia pauses in her own work as she reaches up to run a hand through his bangs, fondly tugging at the strands, “she’s telling you we keep you from getting soft, fool, don’t you listen?”

“Thanks to our family and our efforts, especially me,” his daughter tells him smugly before looking up with him with a serious expression.  "You’re welcome.“

Ichigo can’t help but roll his eyes as he reaches out and retaliates by tugging on the stubborn bang between Rukia’s eyes with one hand while ruffling his daughter’s hair with his other.  They both protest and push his hands away, but they’re grinning as they hear footsteps of the rest of the family entering the kitchen.

Ichigo realizes that a long time ago he did think his father had been crazy and had become annoyed with his antics while longing for a more quiet routine.  He was almost horrified when he realized what his father had influenced and passed on to his children, but he really should have known that he never would have fit a 'normal’ and mundane lifestyle.  

And he really didn’t think he would have had it any other way.

Through Burt’s Eyes

Anon prompted: One like through pam’s eyes with Burt and Kurt

The day of one of the biggest changes in his son’s life, Burt looks back on Kurt’s life.

8664 words.  Rated: PG

A/N: This is a good bit longer than Through Pam’s Eyes simply because the show gives us more history to Kurt than they do with Blaine (what a shame that we don’t have more about Blaine). 

There’s something about sitting in a hospital waiting room awaiting news or pictures of a newborn baby that makes Burt Hummel start reminiscing.

When Burt Hummel had been told he was having a son, Burt began picturing his son’s life.  He imagined taking his son to baseball games and watching his son play football at a state championship.  He imagined his son getting nervous over a girl.  He imagined a son who would take over the tire shop or do something really sophisticated with his life like become a doctor or a lawyer.  When the nurse put Kurt Jacob Hummel in his arms, Burt realized that the small life he held in his hands would do whatever he wanted to do, but he hoped that everything that he imagined would come to life.

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